#i needed a bat and she felt like a good pick

[stars-obsession-pit]

Stephanie Brown stopped eating her burger and just stared as a teen stumbled into the fast food joint.

Literally stumbled. Living in Gotham, Steph was no stranger to seeing scuffed up kids, but this guy was seriously fucked up. His hair was matted down with blood across the right side of his head, some of it blending in with the dark purple of his black eye. And judging by how he was gripping onto that side’s shoulder while its arm hung down, she suspected the damage extended down at least that far too.

She was on her feet in an instant, bumping her table as she stepped out to approach him. “Holy shit, are you okay?”

He let go of his shoulder just long enough to wave her off. “Nah, it’s cool. I just want some food.” In that brief moment, the injured shoulder seemed to shift slightly, and he grimaced before quickly putting pressure back. Wait, was it actually dislocated or broken and not just bruised? Why wasn’t he getting medical attention?!

“I really think you ought to go to the hospital. Or at least a clinic.”

“No, really, I’ll be fine.” He tried to smile at her reassuringly, but the blood in his mouth was not helping matters.

She felt flummoxed, and before she could format a further response, he stepped around her to approach the counter and the shellshocked looking cashier.

“Hey, can I get uh… I dunno, a burger? Whatever’s quick and has a lot of calories. I’m starving.”

The cashier continued to stare for a moment, then shook their head rapidly and spoke. “I– uh– alright, okay, sure. Yeah. Anythin’ else? An’ what name’ll it be for?”

“Nah, that’s fine for now. And it’s Danny.”

[swytdoll]

(19)virgin!choso has the hots for his older neighbor(35):(

perverted. that’s how he felt as he watched you wash your car, in shorts so tiny they were practically underwear and a white tank top that was so soaked it was see through. the way the fabric clung to your breasts made his mouth water. he had been staring for at least 30 minutes and had gotten to see them from all angles. it was torture, sweet torture. he wanted to take you right then and there in the grass and hear his name on your lips over and over.

you were old enough to be his mom. in fact, he had had you as a teacher back when he was in high school and that made him feel guilty for looking at you like this. but he just couldn't stop. he couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about being with an older woman, one that knew what she was doing and knew how to use him. you would make him feel like your toy and he wanted that.

you looked up and caught his eyes. he blushed bright red and quickly turned away. maybe if he had kept looking he would have noticed the smirk on your lips.

you were a teacher in more ways than one. you could teach him how to be a good boy and give you the pleasure you deserved. he wanted to sink into the ground when you began to approach him. you were smiling sweetly, but your eyes said something different.

you leaned against the fence separating your property and his, propping up one of your arms on it. you gave him a soft grin and he wanted to die. you’re so pretty to him. glowing eyes framed with thick wispy lashes, pretty plump lips. he can't look away, mesmerized, he watches the way your lips part and the tip of your tongue darts out to wet them. the sight makes his blood run hot and his shorts grow tighter.

"hello mister kamo," you hummed, "where are your parents?"

"i-i'm sorry i-" had he been caught? were you gonna tell on him?

"what's the matter? are you nervous?" you cooed, "i just wanted to say hi to your mom, see if she needed anything for the barbecue later. is she around?"

"she's- um- out. getting groceries," he replied quietly, not daring to meet your eyes.

"oh? and what about your father?"

"he's...working late," choso said. he was sweating and the bulge in his shorts was now painfully obvious. he wanted to die, to disappear from embarrassment. you smiled and let out a giggle.

"are you okay mister kamo? you seem awfully nervous." you’re batting those lashes and he swears he could melt, he clears his throat. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine, totally fine!" he blurted out, "i'll- uh- tell them you said hi."

"okay," you quipped sweetly and began to walk back to your house, "if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

he nodded, "okay."

his head was spinning and he couldn't think straight. he didn't want to be alone, didn't want to go inside, didn't want to leave and miss seeing you again. he could still smell the strawberry of your shampoo from where he was. it was intoxicating.

"choso," you called out and he snapped out of his daze.

"yes, miss?"

"can you come help me? i dropped my hose and it's really hard to pick up."

"o-okay."

you lead him around the side of your house and he saw the hose was indeed on the ground, the water running. his hands were shaking, but he bent down and picked it up anyway. the moment he stood, you grabbed his hand and placed it right on your chest. he squeaked and tried to pull away, but you held him tight.

"you can touch me," you hummed, "i don't mind. is that why you were watching me? do you like older women?"

"i- uh- well- you- you're-"

"use your words, choso," you chastised him and moved his hand lower, making him rub his fingers over your nipple, "good boys speak when spoken to. did i ever teach you that?"

"y-yes," he whined and his hips bucked into the air. you gave him a wicked smile and pushed him to the ground. he landed on his back, legs sprawled out. his cock was standing up, pressing against his shorts and there was a dark stain where his tip was.

"such a cute little thing," you giggled and knelt down in front of him. you grabbed his legs and pulled them apart before getting between them. he squirmed and you grabbed his hands, pinning them to the ground.

"please," he whimpered.

"please what? be a good boy and tell me what you want," you cooed, pressing his hands into the ground.

"i- um- please...touch me," he whispered.

"like this?" you hummed and reached down to rub his clothed erection. he bucked his hips into your hand and moaned.

"yes, please, miss," he gasped.

"good boy," you purred and kissed him, he was putty. "so good for me."

your hands moved to his hips and he lifted them so you could pull his shorts down. his cock was already leaking and twitching.

"you poor thing, did you get this hard just from looking at me?"

"y-yes, miss," he moaned, "i couldn't stop thinking about you, how pretty you were and how much i wanted you."

"oh, you're such a good boy, telling me exactly what you want," you cooed and gripped his cock, stroking it slowly, "i should give you a reward, hm?"

"please, please, please," he whined, his hips twitching up.

"okay," you replied and leaned forward. you pressed a soft kiss to his tip, smearing the pre-cum on your lips before wrapping them around him. his back arched and he let out a loud moan. he couldn’t believe this, anyone could see him and you. his parents could walk past the fence and catch you sucking off their son. but that was part of the fun. it was forbidden and he loved that.

the sounds of your gurgled chokes as you slurp his cock are like a siren's song to him, the way you so dutifully suckle him to the base and take his entire length in your mouth without a trace of resistance. your jaw is slack as he slides between your lips, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you forward until your nose is pressed into his belly. he's so big that even though your eyes are rolled back, your vision is obscured by the sheer size of his erection. your throat feels like a fleshy sheath for him, your breath forced out in tiny, rapid huffs through your nostrils, and your tongue is pinned.

and you're not just sucking his cock, either. you're swallowing. and every time your esophagus clenches down around the head of his dick, it sends him hurtling closer and closer towards an orgasm that he's determined to wring out of you first. he can feel you starting to struggle for air, but the way you're still obediently sucking his cock even while your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen.

“god," he rumbles, his voice like the sound of boulders shifting together. his grip on the back of your head tightens, and he grinds against your face, your nose and lips mashed up against his skin.

your stomach growls and churns in a desperate plea for nourishment, but the way he fills your throat is a completely different hunger. you can taste his pre-cum, his magic thick and warm and tingling on your tongue, and you suck and swallow with more enthusiasm. even though you're struggling to breathe, the idea of drinking his cum makes you feel like a starving woman given the key to a buffet.

"j-just like that," he praises you, his words coming out in a hiss as you clench down on him, your throat tightening in a futile attempt to keep his cock from pushing so deep into your airway. he whines when you withdraw, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"you taste so good, choso," you murmured, "have you had many girls do this to you?"

"n-no, miss, never," he groaned, "only you."

"and do you want only me to do this to you? do you want me to be the only one that knows how good you taste and how cute you sound?"

"yes! yes, miss! i want it to be only you, please," he babbled. you smirked and kissed his hip.

"well then, i better take good care of my boy, huh?"

"please, please," he whined, pushing his hips toward you.

"okay, i'll make you feel really good, sweetie."

you took his cock back into your mouth, licking at the tip and stroking the rest. his head was spinning and he could hardly breathe. you felt too good, looked too good, sounded too good. your soft lips wrapped around him, sucking and licking, teasing and pleasing. it was too much and yet not enough. his body was on fire, burning and aching.

his knees buckle as your warm hand palms his balls and your tongue traces the veins of his cock. he lets out a whine and grips your hair. you pull off his dick, letting it fall against his stomach. you press a few soft kisses to his tip, watching as his cock twitches.

"miss," he whimpered, "it hurts, please."

"what does, sweetheart?" you asked.

"please, let me cum, miss," he begged.

"already? did i make you that horny?"

"please, miss," he whined and bucked his hips.

"alright," you hummed, taking him back into your mouth.

"thank you," he breathed.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could. his fingers tightened in your hair and he bucked his hips. your nose pressed against his pelvis and your throat clenched around him.

"i'm close," he moaned, "i can't, fuck, it's so good."

a few more thrusts, and his movements become erratic. you're dizzy from oxygen deprivation, the edges of your vision growing dark, when suddenly his cock twitches inside you, and his hot, sticky cum fills your stomach. there's so much of it that you're actually able to feel yourself swell a little with the volume of his release, and the sensation makes you whimper and whine.

"you did so well," you cooed, crawling up and laying next to him, "was that your first time?"

"yeah. . . s-sorry i finished so quick." he mumbled, cheeks tinted brightly.

"you did so good," you repeated, pressing a kiss to his temple, he felt like he was going to pass out.

“i’ll see you tonight at the barbecue, yeah?”

he nods, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him.

*peeps around corner* dare i say part 2?

[pathologicalreid]

spring into summer | s.r.

in which Spencer pursues a relationship with you. you try to resist every advance - for your own protection.

[previously] | [next]

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angsty content warnings: blowing smoke part tew, at a bar but it's not specified whether or not reader drinks alcohol, kissing, if you have a problem with my bar music keep it to yourself, maeve as a plot device, love confessions, not edited word count: 2.25k a/n: y'all i wasn't gonna do this, but listening to this song... yeah i had to.

“Spencer’s here!” Penelope exclaimed from her bar stool, her heels clicking on her way to the front of the bar, hoping to lead Spencer through the crowd to where the team had decided to set up shop.

Your head snapped up in alarm, tilting your head to the side and trying to get JJ’s attention, “I didn’t think Spencer was coming out tonight.”

She frowned slightly, placing her glass on the bar and shrugging, “It was an open invite.”

An open invite that you extended to the guy you’re seeing. You huffed, pulling the strap of your dress back over your shoulder and flagging down the bartender, hoping to get a drink before you need to play defense against Spencer.

“Hey,” Ethan said from behind you, a cute guy from counterterrorism that Penelope had introduced you to. His hand sat comfortably on your waist as you got the bartender’s attention again, letting him know that you’d actually need two drinks.

You smiled back at him, panicking slightly when he leaned in to kiss you. Evading his kiss, you let his lips land on your cheek, turning your head so that you were facing Spencer.

The two of you had as little contact as you could manage in the past two months, ever since Spencer’s attempt to ask you out had gone completely awry. Of course, ceasing all contact was unavoidable, between work and Spencer’s continued pursuance, you continuously found yourself under his net.

Ethan squeezed your waist gently, taking the glass that the bartender had placed in front of him and grabbing a straw for yours. You thanked him, crushing the straw wrapper against the bar and taking a sip.

Admittedly, you weren’t interested in the guy in the slightest. The second time you went out together, he’d gotten your name wrong, but he was friends with Penelope’s crush, so you were trying to be a good sport.

It felt like the world was playing a cruel joke on you, pairing you with someone who couldn’t be bothered to remember your name while you were trying to shut out a guy who remembered your favorite flower from a conversation three years ago. Yesterday, you’d found a bouquet on your desk for the third Thursday in a row.

Every time you read the card that he sends with the arrangement, you almost forget yourself. It would be a waste for you to get rid of them, which is the only reason you’ve kept them on your desk.

Or so you keep telling yourself.

“You look nice,” Spencer whispered to you, reaching between you and JJ so he could grab his drink from the bar. He looked good, you noticed him against your better judgment, even the embroidery on his tie managed to catch your attention.

Before you could collect yourself enough to respond to him, Morgan had already pulled him back to a booth, putting an arm around his shoulders and pointing out different girls in the bar while Savannah rolled her eyes. His hair was growing out from the undercut that he’d debuted in the fall, falling in front of his eyes until he inevitably flicked the stray hairs away.

Peeling your eyes off of him, you looked back at Ethan, who’d already made his way through half his drink. His eyes were glued to the baseball game being displayed above the bar. If your date had noticed you ogling your coworker, he didn’t show it.

Tentatively, you tapped his stool gently with your toe, “Hey,” you tried to get his attention, batting your eyelashes. “Do you wanna go over to the jukebox with me? We can pick a song together,” you offered.

He frowned and shook his head, “Nah, the Nationals game is on.” He nodded his head up to the TV, refraining from sparing you a glance.

You looked up at the screen, they were at the bottom of the second inning, and you were in for an exhausting night. “Right,” you said flatly, “I’ll be right back.”

Sharing a look with Penelope, who shot you a supportive thumbs up from the other side of the bar, you got off your stool and adjusted your purse over your shoulder. You liked that this bar still had a real jukebox, as opposed to the updated touchscreens commonly found in bars nowadays. You dug through your purse for a quarter, half paying attention to your rummaging and using the rest of your brain power to study the available songs.

A few things caught your eye, most of the available tracks were classics—Journey, Queen, and a Meatloaf track that was suspiciously out of order. Probably because the song was over eight minutes long. “Here,” the familiar voice—that you’d been trying to avoid—spoke.

Spencer held a quarter out for you, leaving the coin displayed in his palm until you graciously accepted it. “Thanks,” you said, “Do you have any suggestions?” You expertly dodged his attempt at eye contact, sliding the quarter into its slot and reading through the titles again. Pressing your lips in a thin line while you ignored the way he was leaning over the jukebox.

“Why did you ask him to come out?” He asked, pointing at one of the songs and chuckling when you shook your head. He should’ve known better than to actually make a request. After all, you were just being polite.

You squinted at a title, worn with time, and you distracted yourself with the task of reading it. “I didn’t know you were coming with us,” you muttered, refusing to let your curiosity get the better of you and resisting the urge to just select the worn button. “You don’t usually like this bar,” you reminded him. You couldn’t remember the last time Spencer went out to a bar that wasn’t O’Keefe’s.

He hummed next to you, standing so close that you could feel his body heat intermingling with your own. “So,” he started, “You wouldn’t have asked him to go out if you had known I was going to be here.”

“I didn’t say that,” you told him, your eyes flickering to the side. Not enough to see his face, but enough to notice that he’d taken off his suit jacket, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

“You might as well have,” he returned, watching as you finally chose a Fleetwood Mac song, concluding that you’d either have to choose a song you didn’t want or waste Spencer’s quarter.

You peeked around him, your date still preoccupied with the sporting event. Even so, you tried to make your way around Spencer, but he grabbed your elbow and held you back.

There was nothing forceful in his action. If you wanted to snatch your arm away and stalk away from him, he wasn’t going to stop you, but you found yourself interested in staying with him. It would be worth your while to stay with someone who was begging for your attention rather than return to the bar to beg for someone else’s.

Spencer looked around, mindful of the members of your team who were still in earshot while he led you away from the crowds. He tucked you away, resting your back against a shiplap wall in a corner, perfectly concealed from curious profilers. “I want to talk to you,” he whispered, leaning against the wall.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest in preemptive defense, making sure he stayed at least a foot away from you. “I’ve said everything there is to say to you,” you made no effort to avert his gaze, no attempt to duck away from the conversation.

“I haven’t,” he responded immediately, his voice steady despite the noticeable pounding of his carotid. It was almost as if he’d practiced this speech before, going through every permutation of the conversation in his mirror before meeting you out.

Raising your eyebrows, you looked up at him; the sun was setting, the orange light reflecting in his brown irises while he studied you like it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Spence,” you breathed, waiting expectantly for him to continue.

“You never actively pursued me, how was I meant to know you were interested?” His question made you want to scoff, but the earnest look in his eyes gave you pause. “Admittedly, social cues aren’t my strong suit, and I know you know that.”

Your shoulders relaxed, “So, because I never actively pursued you, it’s my fault that we never ended up together? Was I supposed to declare my intentions to you?”

He shook his head, sending strands of wavy brown hair tumbling in front of his forehead. In another life, you would’ve reached out to fix his hair. “No, I’m saying that while you never actively pursued me, I am actively pursuing you. I just want to make sure you know what page I’m on,” he told you, nervously picking at his nails.

“Spencer,” you sighed his name, “I already told you I couldn’t do it.” You’d cried it to him, actually. You expected this conversation to be more of the same, pleading with Spencer to understand your perspective on the situation while he relentlessly begged you to reconsider.

Reaching out, he touched your arm gently, nothing more than a graze of his fingertips across your bare skin, “And I want to prove to you that we can do this. I can be the guy that you want.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to push yourself further into the wall until you phased right through it, “I can’t take the back and forth.” You needed something stable, but what you needed would never be reflective of what you wanted. The most brutal truth of all was that you still wanted Spencer. You considered him your first love, and no one ever gets over their first love.

Just like he’d never get over his.

“There are just too many years between us, Spencer. It’s too complicated,” you told him, trying to keep your breathing steady. It would be exhausting to explain your tearful look to the rest of the team.

He waved your reasoning away, “It’s not. It’s not complicated. I love you and you love me. So, why can’t we be together?”

Your lips parted, staring up at him with wide eyes as your brain frantically tried to catch up with the situation at hand. Each beat of your heart was like a repetition of the word—love, love, love.

Spencer took your silence for rejection, “Maybe it’s just me then.”

“It’s not,” you croaked, fear and love and sorrow causing your throat to strangle your words. You looked up at him and wondered how long he’d been sitting on that confession. You wondered how long he’d known you loved him. You wondered if he still dreamed about Maeve. For whatever reason, that’s the only curiosity that you voiced, “Do you still dream about her?”

“I only dream about you these days,” he answered, his voice soft in the cacophony of the bar, keeping the conversation private despite your public stage.

“You can’t mean that,” you murmured, your face warming in response to his confession.

Your response only seemed to encourage him further, leaning his head down to allow himself contact. He pressed his lips to yours gently, and you found yourself leaning into him more than you’d like, each movement of his lips reminiscent of a chisel against the wall that you had constructed between the two of you.

Reaching your arms up, you propped one over his shoulder and used your free hand to weave your fingers in his hair—just as silky as you had always imagined it would be. His lips were soft against yours, and you knew you were fighting a battle that you could never win. You’d always run back to him.

Even when you pried yourself away from him, there wasn’t an ounce of regret in your bloodstream, but there was an outpour of sorrow. “Spence,” you breathed, blinking tears from your eyes while he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry,” he responded, “I shouldn’t have done that.” His tone didn’t reflect his words in the slightest, there was no remorse in his eyes when you met them for the first time in a new light.

You shook your head instantly, “It’s okay.” You understood why he had done it. Telling you he loved you. Kissing you. He hadn’t done either of those things with Maeve. Spencer was trying to make a statement with you; he wanted his actions to speak louder than words.

He frowned, “You’re crying. I’m so sorry.”

Your lips parted to respond, but you hesitated for a moment. Curiosity was rapping at your door, wanting to know if the last person he had kissed was Diane. “I’m not crying because I didn’t want you to kiss me,” you admitted, hoping that your candor would serve to bring him some comfort.

“Oh,” he breathed, “Oh.”

You nodded, confirming his suspicions, “But I meant it when I told you I can’t do this. I just… not right now.” You needed time to come to terms with the fact that the love you never expected was right around the corner, and you needed time so that Maeve wasn’t the first person you thought over after kissing him.

“Okay,” he said, taking a small step away from you, “But you… you’ll let me know?”

Your head bobbed, “I’ll let you know.”

"I love you and I always will and I am sorry. What a useless word." - Ernest Hemingway

[solbaby7]

I love your work, and I’ve been creeping on your master list and it’s so good 😭❤️❤️❤️… pls do one with Azriel and AFAB reader who finds out first that they’re true mates but says nothing at all, too scared that he’ll reject her cause he’s in love with Elain and she witnesses the whole necklace gifting/almost kiss between them and runs away, tries to avoid both of them for days and gets sick or injured or something and that’s when Az realizes it too and smut ensues 🫶😭❤️

Since You Have A Lover

pairing : azriel x afab!reader

warnings: angst babe, torture too (oops👀🤣), not proofread, swearing, probs typos, mild smut at the end, testing out the longer fics and then we’re gonna figure out if longer or shorter is better 🫣

thank you for the request bean! i switched it up a little to add some much needed angst but i’m so happy you’ve been enjoying 💗💗

oh and…educate a girl. wtf is afab?👀 respectfully ofc

—

Deep breaths and a lowered gaze is how you make it through family dinners as your stomach lurches uncomfortably.

The feeling never got easier, even after months of enduring the debilitating emotions that ensued from watching your mate love another.

It’s instinctual to be jealous—to compare yourself to Elain when Azriel refused to tear his eyes away. He was supposed to be your equal and yet the longer dinner went on with overhearing their hushed conversation and not-so-sneaky touches under the table; you felt anything but suitable in comparison.

Drowning those thoughts is surprisingly easy, a plethora of wine bottles are scattered about the table and not a single person bats an eye when you snatch one up for yourself. They’re too caught up in each other to realize you’ve slipped away; abandoning the suffocating love that permeated from every direction besides your own.

Fresh air helps a little, the stolen bottle of wine aiding in keeping you warm from the unforgiving nighttime chill. Eventually the cool bite doesn’t send shivers down your spine and you barely even flinch when bare skin meets cold stone, your gaze dipping down to lively town below.

Time moves too quickly as the observer, seconds bleeding into minutes until hours have passed and the bottle has nothing left to offer. There’s a brief moment where your foggy brain contemplates the effort it would take to retrieve another when your solitude is broken.

Two bodies burst through the balcony doors on the furthest side, mostly concealed by trees and flowers but you’d recognize those wings anywhere. A hand smacks over your mouth to conceal any sound, body freezing in place as you witness Azriel press Elain into the wall, his hands cradling the sides of her face lovingly.

A part of you shatters when you catch that sparkle in his eye, the eagerness in his movement to have her closer until her cheeks go flush and thick lashes flutter closed in preparation for the sweet kiss Azriel is sure to grant her.

You’re unable to stomach another moment and neither of them even flinch when you shuffle from your spot and make a bee-line for the exit. Tears cloud your vision, shoulders shaking and steps unsteady as you all but run through the halls, darting up the stairs and colliding right into another body. “Oh,” The startled sound is all but whimpered out of you and red eyes and splotchy cheeks are the first thing Nesta sees as you look up. “Gods, I’m sorry.” You scramble to your feet, retrieving the book she’d dropped in the collision. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching here I was going.”

“That’s not like you.”

A weak smile quirks at the corner of your mouth, unbound hair in unruly strands down your shoulders. “I’m not quite myself at the moment.”

Nesta hums in response, slender arms crossing over her chest and the fabrics of her nightgown shifts with the motion. Her gaze is scrutinizing, picking apart the truth from the lies and you’re infinitely grateful that she doesn’t call you out on your state of disarray. “Want me to walk you to your room?”

“No.” You whisper, hastily wiping your cheeks and attempting to smooth down stray hairs and wrinkled silks. “No, I think I’m going to go for a walk instead. I could use the fresh air.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

Nesta's neck cranes, slowly turning on the balls of her feet as you swiftly slip past her and make way for your chambers. Perhaps, it's the defeated slump of your shoulders that catches Lady Death's attention; that emptiness in your eyes that couldn't even be filled by the overflowing tears that stained your cheeks.

She considers waking Cassian--he always was better equipped to handle the emotions of others but you're already gone, disappearing behind the door without even saying goodnight. Something about the interaction forces her to linger, smutty book long forgotten as she waits to see you creep out that same room ten minutes later.

You're dressed to better accommodate the weather now. Thick leathers insulating body heat while subconsciously providing much needed compression--the tight fabric mimics comfort in its attempt to hold together the broken bits of you shoved inside.

Nesta's lips part, a million possible words resting at the tip of her tongue but you're quick to intercept, tone numb and alarmingly empty. "Don't wait up."

--

Being alone was supposed to be relaxing.

Distracting, at the very least.

But, all you could feel was the cool prickle of awareness at the back of your neck the whole time you sat at the edge of the mountains that overlooked the Sidra. Each time you'd slow your breathing and attempt to regulate the unusual beat of your heart with the captivating view of Velaris at night. While most were inside, the homes that resided there were full of life; lights glowing golden through their windows, laughs ebbing through the woodwork and creating a sense of serenity that refuses to wash over you as well.

Eyes narrow, shoulders squaring and fingers twitch for the sharp daggers strapped to your thighs. The thick trees you’d come through seems far less attractive now, branches craning out like grabbing hands with gaps of murky darkness that resembled giant mouths waiting to swallow you up. “Nesta?”

The chuckle that breaks through the clearing is anything but feminine. “Not quite.”

It happens too fast--the hand that smacks over your mouth to mute the startled scream that rips free. You push against the solid wall of a body stationed behind you, attempting to sway his stability in order to break free but a sharp sting in your neck renders you still.

The burn that follows is instant and before you can stop it, the unforgiving darkness becomes all you know.

--

The palpable tension at breakfast is suffocating.

Azriel's seething brood casts angsty shadows along his strong build, creating a visible wall between himself and his High Lord after the stern conversation he was forced into the night before. It runs on repeat in the shadow singers mind, the order given to back off on his affections towards the middle Archeron sister.

It seems cruel. A sick form of punishment that Azriel can't quite wrap his mind around because who was really in charge of the tragectory of his life? Azriel ? Or his High Lord?

The mere thought has his teeth grinding in silent contempt, his gaze flickering around the table before landing on the bare spot directly across from him. His brows furrow, confusion briefly sweeping away the rage as he considers the time--your usual schedule and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them. "Where is she?"

A brief pause, the casual conversation slowing to a halt until Azriel catches a glimpse of something on Nesta's face--a strain of guilt he'd seen a million times on a trillion different faces. "Left earlier this morning." Polished silverware scrapes at fine china, pushing aside food that her body refuses to indulge in. "Said she was going for a walk."

Discontentment settles into Azriel's bones--a feeling he struggles to understand and Nesta's answer only exasperates the unsteady sensation.

"In this weather?" Grey clouds are thick in the sky, shades of slate and granite completely masking the sun as relentless rains pour down from above. "When was this?"

"Around three."

Cassian swears lowly from beside his mate, a sturdy hand resting at her shoulders but the regret lacing his features speaks plenty about the decision to stay quiet for so long. It was too dangerous, especially after the last few meetings Rhys had with Kier in Hewn. Change took time and the Steward and his men were complaining about that change taking too long. Hateful words were thrown in the name of the people of Hewn City and how they had desires too; dreams of a better world for themselves and their children but the High Lord’s better judgement rose question to the other consequences that could arise from giving what they were asking for. "Ness that was nearly eight hours ago."

The screech of Azriel's chair draws attention, a sudden boost of fuel being injected in his veins. "Did she tell you where she was going exactly?"

Nesta’s tone turns into vitriol, a subconscious reaction to the guilt that gnawed at her bones for not seeking for you sooner after finding you in your state. The reminder of tears streaming down your face flashes behind her eyelids; the choppiness of your words through labored breathing. How desperately you’d attempted to wrangle it together just long enough to make it to your room and suddenly the eldest Archeron feels that familiar uselessness creep beneath her skin. “She didn’t leave me a map with a drawn out route—she just said she needed air.”

“While crying?” It wasn’t intentional, Rhysand seeing the flash of memory that Nesta had unknowingly projected; her mental walls caving for just a fraction of a minute before the iron doors had regained their formidable security. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Silverware clatters against the table, staining table linen in strawberry jam but no one seems to give a shit when the severity of the situation behinds to settle over the room. Nesta runs a hand against the material of her dress, smoothening out wrinkles and creases in order to avoid all of the eyes settling over her face. “I was just going to the library to read and we bumped into each other. She came from the balcony—I offered to walk her to her room but she just…” A sigh pulls free, jaw setting tightly. “I let her go.”

“Nesta.” Feyre’s slow shake of her head holds enough disappointment to have Nesta’s shoulders squaring on the defensive.

“I’m not some evil bitch, I waited up!” She seethes, the beginnings of those silver flames lapping at the steely grey of her eyes but the fight within isn’t truly directed towards Feyre or anyone else but herself. Because she’d felt the exact moment that you walked from the doors and winnowed away, that she’d made a grave mistake. Nesta’s shoulders sag, fingers bunching unforgivingly into the inky linen cloth until she felt the tips of her nails digging into the polished mahogany underneath. “I waited.”

Azriel’s already out of the room without a word.

He didn’t have a right to shame her because Azriel had a feeling he knew what sent you running.

His teeth grind together when thinking back to the night before when he and Elain had scuffled off onto the balcony at the witching hour; hoping their sins would be shielded by the dark cast of night. Too caught up in one another to consider another already occupying the space.

And, no matter how many times Azriel brushed his fingertips over the soft curve of Elain’s cheeks or vyed for a fleeting touch when passing in the hallways—the kiss he thought he wanted lacked the spark he was sure would flicker to life when lips grazed.

He’d pulled away so abruptly, brows furrowing in a stark line discontentment that was visible to anyone with eyes and then he heard the broken whimper of a gasp.

It’s been too easy to pass it off as Elain and far easier for him to forget about it altogether after Rhysand had found an embarrassed Elain rushing back to her room with flushed cheeks and an unsteady gait. He’d never heard his brother shout so loud, the veins in his neck protruding as he ordered Azriel to never even look her way again. That if a quick fuck in the dead of the night was what he desired then Azriel should wander along the cobblestone streets of Velaris and find himself a suitable pleasure house and pay for it.

The words act as fuel, Azriel’s senses working on overdrive; shadows scrying for information faster than ever before until they’d returned with something he could work with.

Dropped neatly in his palms were the cool steel of your twin blades that never left the secure holsters forever strapped to your thighs.

And they were soaked in your blood.

—

You recognized the suffocating dank smell that tended to fester when stuffed so far beneath the earth—the perfect dungeon.

One you’d been in countless times before, wearing that shadowy mask of indifference when masquerading as the soulless monster that became necessary to survive while in Hewn City. It took decades of assistance by Azriel’s side; an apprentice of sorts when the bounds of your affections had just begun testing its limits—wondering to see just how far you’d go just to be near him.

To get him to notice you. Your mate. Yours. Yours.

All of that seems so foolish now. Insignificant compared to the dire situation you’d found yourself entangled in.

Sharp twinges of pain throb up your neck, aches settling in from the uncomfortable position and it’s a strain when you shift in attempts to take in your surroundings. Fear lurches in your chest when your hands don’t move, restrained by chains that had you hung up like a prized hog after a fresh hunt.

Not good. Not good. Not good. So, not good.

“I always did love that look.” Immediately your spine goes ramrod straight, fingers clenching into fists over the cool bite of the chains as that voice washed over you like a bucket of water. Refreshing on your own terms and a horrible wake up call when it wasn’t. “When panic shifts into realization—truly a sight worth capturing. Especially when attached to such a delicate disposition.”

Delicate?

You’d never once used that word in ordinance to yourself.

Hearing it now, under such circumstances makes your heart lurch, it’s beat untamed against your ribcage and it takes every bit of strength left to smooth that look of utter calm across your features. “Come a little closer, let me show you how sweet I can get.”

The underlying threat is easily palpable and Kier is wise not to follow the bait; aware of the wounded animals ability to put up a considerable fight and he’s too coward to brawl fairly. “As tempting as that is, it won’t be me who plays with you tonight.” Your teeth bare into a snarl, pure promise rumbling from your chest and the sound encourages a chuckle from the male.

He’s not close enough to injure; to swing the brunt of your weight around for a well-timed kick that you knew would disable long enough to figure a way out of these damn restraints. But even with the distance between you, the resemblance between this male and Mor was striking. She’d inherited the shape of his lips, even if the words she spoke were far sweeter than the shit spewed from her predecessor. More similarities are spotted during your scrutinizing evaluation of him; the line of his nose, the shade of his hair, the confident air that oozed from his form—no matter how misplaced it was.

“I’ll kill anyone who dares lay a finger on me.”

“So much fight in you,” Kier all but croons, his eyes raking across your body in a way that was less than savory. “I can’t wait to see how long it lasts.”

Breathe.

Years of training beside the spymaster had prepared you for this very moment and it’s easier to drift back into the memory of just another session; before things had gotten so complicated and he’d just been a friend eager to teach if you were willing to learn. Countless times you’d been in a similar situation—you, waking up tied up to some chair with ropes securing every possible joint in place and Azriel would leave you there as long as it took for you to figure your way out of it.

Allow the thrum of your heart be the beat that keeps you focused.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Relax and take in your surroundings. Notice things no one else thinks is important because that could be the one thing that keeps you from an untimely death.

The cell wasn’t very large, four stone walls covered in grime and mildew with just enough space for two grown men to fit semi-comfortably. No windows. One door with a thin slot at the top large enough for two eyes to peer inside. No fire. No light. No warmth. No breeze, just stale, dank air that tasted of iron when your breathed in too deep.

Just stay alive long enough to get help.

“What do you want from me?”

Kier inhales a greedy breath, his chest expanding in the ornate armor worn. It glistens even with no light—proving that even with his privileged title, he was never the one who got his hands dirty. “Many things,” He finally confessed, the words airy and nonchalant. He’s too cocky. Too comfortable. “But first, I want you to tell me about the Cursebreakers sisters.” He dares a step closer, arms crossed casually behind his back as a dark look begins to worm its way into his eye. “I want you to tell me everything you know about the Made ones and the power they stole from the Cauldron.”

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A smile works its way across his face—one so familiar it taints good memories with its stain. “I hoped you’d say that.” Kier walks past, the smell of his cologne burning your nostrils and you couldn’t imagine ever smelling tobacco and ash, bergamot and oakmoss without gagging ever again.

One knock on the thick steel door and slender male with hair like soot and eyes like a raven enters.

Your face remains a blank slate. Even as you take in the rubber material of his apron and the sturdy material of his leather boots. Well used gloves cover his hands and tucked under his left arm is a rawhide holder filled to the brim with all kinds of terrifying treats.

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

“Who are you?”

He takes his sweet time answering. Making a show of neatly setting down the holder and undoing the braided leather straps holding it in place. “You can call me the Butcher—everyone else does.”

“How original.” A thick swallow to quell the nerves; to shove away the shake that threatened to disturb your carefully curated cadence. The chains rattle as you shift, the tips of your toes just barely skimming the cool ground beneath you but not quite enough to relieve your wrists of the burden of bearing the entirety of your weight. “Well, Butcher—come make yourself useful and loosen my chains, will you? It’s starting to chafe a bit.”

His head shakes in his denial, barely acknowledging the departing Steward and the heavy thud of the shutting door—a lock sliding into place. “You don’t really want me to do that.” For donning such a threatening title, the Butcher is deceivingly soft-spoken. It sends your nerves into a fritz, triggering your fight or flight and for the first time since your eyes had opened and the darkness had waned; that delicately woven web of control slips from your grasp. “If you’re as stubborn as I think you are,” The sharp ring of metal twangs through the air and in his grasp is a perfectly polished knife a little too curved to be considered a scalpel. “You’ll need something to hold onto. It helps with the pain…for a time.”

Breathe.

“Then let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

Butcher chuckles low under his breath, full lips concealed by an ever fuller beard—the only thing about him that wasn’t perfectly trim and proper. “Not a fan of foreplay?”

Fingers curl around the cool bite of thick chains, your chest rising and falling in a steady pattern as you began to dissociate. An attempt to keep your mind as protected as possible from whatever was to come. “I’m more of a rip-the-bandaid kind of girl.”

Death clings to the pristinely polished rubber of his apron, the creak of his gloves filling the space as worn fingers ready around the hilt of his weapon. “You know,” Inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth. Disappear off into that numb place deep, deep within your mind. Ignore the bite of the blade poking around already sensitive wounds. “Under entirely different circumstances, I think I might’ve actually liked you.”

The switch flips so fast—too fast for you to catch but it’s impossible to miss the devastating burn that ripples through you as flesh is severed, muscle flayed and so, so much blood spilled.

It’s hard to keep track of how much time passes down here without access to windows and you’re certain that it’s intentional, aiding in the psychological aspect of their torture.

Relax and take in your surroundings. Notice things no one else thinks is important because that could be the one thing that keeps you from an untimely death.

The masculine baritone of Azriel’s teachings repeated like a mantra in your mind until it becomes the only thing distracting you from the sound of your flesh tearing, your blood drip, drip, dripping a misshapen puddle beneath you.

You force yourself to keep conscious, mentally noting anything your eyes are able to latch onto. Insignificant things; ebony hair, umber skin, a brand burned into the middle of Butcher’s left wrist in a symbol half-obscured by his gloves.

There’s a block on your powers, not quite faebane in its most lethal dose but paired with the wards humming against the walls, you knew using magic wouldn’t be an option for you. “Tell me about the Made ones and I can stop.”

“I don’t know anything.”

Just stay alive long enough to get help.

“You live there with them,” Butcher goads, crooked teeth exposed when gritted into that grimace of a sneer. Leather creaks under the playful twist of his wrist, the sharpened blade carving at muscle and obliterating sinew until you swear it reaches bone. “You share drink and food, you fight beside them in battle and you expect us to believe that secrets aren’t shared as well?” Every breath is ragged, a sheen of sweat coating your skin and unruly hair sticks to the curve of your neck. “Tell me what you know before I decide to get a little more creative in my methods.”

“Even if I did know anything, why the hell would I tell you? What would Hewn scum do with such knowledge?”

Your words have nicked a nerve, robbing the Butcher of that soft-spoken charm and replacing it with something more sinister. “You say the same thing to that bastard Illyrian you’re always seen around?”

A brow quirks, furrowing ever so slightly as it became more and more apparent that this was more than some spur of the moment kidnapping. Their questions, the desire to keep you immobile and battered but not enough to render you unconscious—not enough to be fatal. For whatever reason, they needed you alive and judging by the desperation that claws its way to the edges of Butchers voice, his curses and demands falling on deaf ears as your mind runs on overdrive to accumulate all the information you could before it was too late.

Each breath grows more labored, lashes fluttery and thick with exhaustion but just when it feel like too much—when you feel like giving up and succumbing to the sweet oblivion.

The rake of talons brushes against your mental walls. A cautious prod, testing your durability and utter relief washes over you when that feline lilt floods your consciousness. “We’re coming, just stay awake.”

The syllables barely reach your ears, sound faded by the obnoxious ringing that refused to subside—a side affect from all the fucking screaming and shouting. Swears slurring together the longer you snapped at the male before you, knees jerking and wounds barking in agony when the heel of your foot smashes so hard into his nose, his skull caves in; limp body dropping to the floor with a thud.

It’s all the strength you have in you and the death-grip you have around the chains is released all at once. Time moves in slow motion as you dangle there, vision darkening at the edges and that thrum of your heartbeat loud enough to distract you anymore. “Rhys they want— they want…”

So much blood oozes from your wounds, drenching your leathers all the way through and you were definitely feeling the affects. Your vision blurs, lids going lazy with just enough time to hear that voice—Azriel’s voice bellowing your name. “Stay alive.” He mutters over and over and over when he’s finally reached you, adrenaline pumping so high that he breaks the chains from their bolt with nothing more than his bare hands. “Do you hear me? Don’t you dare fucking die on me.”

You swear you try to obey the command, desiring nothing more than to keep Azriel's attention after finally being front and center in it. But it just felt so safe held in his grasp, tucked so close to his chest while he rids you of your restraints and applies pressure to gaping wounds.

All you wanted was one second. If you closed your eyes just for a second to gather your wits then you'd wake up and everything would be okay.

It sounds like a good idea-- so good that you allow the peace to wash over you like a cool tide washing over the shore in the early days of the burning summer; ignoring the desperate shouts from a vignette of voices that fades in the background like the haunting final notes of a song.

—

Confusion crashes at you in unforgiving waves, memories --or were they dreams?-- flash behind your lids with each blink. A dull throb pounds behind your lids, aggravating your mental shields to the point where you feel them wobble with each breath.

"You should stay still." Azriel's saying without giving you time to clear through the dense fog plaguing your mind. Instead, he busies his hands with fussing over your blankets, carefully tucking bare toes and pressing a five finger grip on your sternum when you attempt to rise from the soft cushion of a mattress that certainly did not belong to you. "It took Madja a while to get you all stitched up. Are you in pain? She left ointments and a few tinctures."

He's graceful enough not to mention the owlish blink of your eyes and their befuddled examination of his room until the crackly rasp of your voice cuts through the space; both of you refusing to address the elephant in the room. "My head hurts a little."

"Yeah," Shadows fuss with warm rags, sweeping it over your forehead and dabbing it along your cheeks while others occupy themselves with filling a glass of water to offer. "Rhys will be by later to apologize for that, I'm sure."

Your brows furrow deeply, nose scrunching when you sip your water. "Apologize for what?"

"You were in distress. We thought you were going to--" Azriel abruptly cuts himself off, fingers curling into fists at his sides. "Rhys went in your mind, said that before you'd gone unconscious that you were trying to tell him something that seemed urgent enough to bypass the usual request to wait for permission."

Your heart begins to pick up speed in your chest and suddenly the desire to rise from this bed and run away was becoming horribly intense. Legs shift under the weight of a duvet that didn't belong to you, attempting to hide the way your sore muscles sink into the overwhelming scent of night-chilled mist. "Okay...and what did he see?"

"He saw you get taken," Azriel turns his back to you, expertly avoiding your eyes but the nervous energy buzzing off his skin was unmistakable. "He watched them carve you up and torture you for information about Nesta and Elain." The stabilizing breath he takes shakes his shoulders, the strong line of muscle barely concealed by the tight stretch of his leathers--leathers still stained in the blood of those who'd spilled yours, no doubt. "Rhys said that you didn't say a word. You didn't give them a thing."

"That's good, right?" A pillow is fluffed behind you, shadows doting on every need. "Then, why do you sound so upset?"

"Why do I sound so upset?" Azriel cruelly mocks, his aurate gaze positively smoldering with rage when they land on you. "Because, you almost died! You almost died in my fucking arms before I ever got the chance to—. What the hell were you thinking?"

The beating you'd endured does nothing to quell your fiery spirit, eyes lighting with life and lips running a mile a minute—too fast for your logical brain to keep up with. "I was thinking that they wanted information on your precious, little girlfriend." You all but spit out, childishly pushing away the comfort the duvet from your legs as you attempt to shuffle from Azriel's bed without disturbing the tight wrap of your bandages. Why the hell were you in here anyway? "I was thinking that maybe, it'd be easier for them to fucking butcher me rather than watch what would happen to you if it were Elain there in my place."

Silence stretches along the hardwood floor, cloaking up the length of the walls and muting out the low crackle of the fireplace; its flame gentle and calm in the midst of an emotional storm. "I almost wish you would've let it be her." Azriel fills the void, finally mustering up the courage to face you. "I could've survived that and whatever consequences came along with it because my mate takes precedence above all."

Just like that, all the spitfire you’d prepared in retaliation absolutely dissipates after hearing those two words. “Your mate.”

Azriel doesn’t confirm with words. Instead, he searches inside for the humming gold thread wrapped taut around his ribs, just above his heart and pulls. Fucking yanking at it with all his might and something sparkles in his eye when your body jerks in retaliation.

“You know?”

“How long have you known?”

Your heartbeat hammers against your ribcage, threatening to carve out a hole if that’s what it took to get to its other half. “A while.”

“And you’ve said nothing.” He says, tone sounding almost defeated. “Why wouldn’t you have said anything?”

“Because, Az,” The shadows have seized their tireless caretaking, sliding back into place beside their master as you lose the ability to accept the tender affection. “You wouldn’t have chosen me. Not before Mor and certainly not before Elain.” You’re quick to bristle over that part, not leaving any room for the spymaster to interrupt no matter how expressive his face became. “Besides, the bond is a choice not a burden and that’s what it would’ve been for you if I spoke up about it.” Pure determination is what allows you to bear the brunt of your weight , willing yourself to appear strong in the face of the male who could render you to cinders if he so pleased. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d really like to shower the dungeon smell off of me.”

A childish whine of a noise is ripped from your throat when Azriel huffs out a breath, murmuring something about you being stubborn as hell before carefully picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. It's embarrassing, a furious blush burning at the apples of your cheeks as he starts the shower, adjusts the temperature and slowly sets you down. "Thank you for that but you don't have to do this. I can handle cleaning myself."

"You can barely stand on solid ground on your own."

"I'll manage."

"I know. What I'm saying is that you don't have to." You nearly faint on the spot when Azriel crouches down in front of you, his hands shaky but sure when unlatching the difficult ties of your fighting leathers. His teeth grit together when the fabric is loosened and carefully worked down your thighs, over your knees and tugged away from your ankles. "Just let me help."

Azriel is nothing short of respectful, you notice. He doesn't sneak salacious peeks at the endless expanse of bare skin that he exposes. Doesn't once mention the tremble of your breath or the way your fingers seem to bite into the flesh of his arms whenever a new article of clothing is removed and dropped to the floor. Even after he's eased you into the shower stream; standing before him, perfectly presented on a soaking wet platter—he keeps his eyes trained on your face.

Shadows thicken over sensual bits, providing a shield between you and the male diligently applying soap to rag. Each drag of the slightly rough material against your skin releases a tension you hadn’t noticed you’d been carrying and all you can do is watch as he rids your skin of the thick film left behind when magic was used to clear away muck.

Eons must past before words are spoken, a this time Azriel is more intentional when he chooses them--more intimate when he relays them. "I'd always hoped for a mate. Ever since I was a boy and my mother told me stories about two halves scouring the world to finally become whole again." You're malleable under his care, pliant when he lifts your arms to scrub underneath and damn-near boneless when he turns you with slippery hands to slowly work the knots from your back. "I had always hoped that one day, I too, would find my equal." Azriel clears his throat, returning back from whatever memory he'd been sucked into but the massage doesn't stop; it only drags lower. "Then so much time had passed and I started to wonder if I couldn't find them because I wasn't being forward enough but that only lead to misplaced affections and unfulfillment."

"Azriel, I'm not sure if I really understand--"

"I felt something for you—something stronger than friendship but I pushed it away. I ignored it and looked elsewhere because I can bare not being as close with Mor and it’s as easy as breathing to never see Elain again but losing you—ruining the peace I feel when I’m with you would’ve broken me.”

Tears well in your eyes, a thickness welling in the back of your throat and your skin burns where his fingers touch, lingering near the dip of your back and just barely curling around the curve of your hips. “Az, you don’t have to say any of this to make me feel better. I just wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy.”

“Then, please don’t reject it.” His warmth ripples over every inch of you, your neck craning to make room for the forehead he helplessly drops in the crux of your shoulder. The perfect line of his nose drags along the curve of it, inhaling the soothing notes of your scent mixed with his body wash. “Don’t reject me—this is all I’ve ever wanted.” Finally his fingers curl around your hips, the grip gentle but oh, so claiming. “Can’t you feel it? This rightness.”

Raw emotion swims in the amber tones of Azriel’s eyes when you turn in his arms; searching within those rich shades to find any detection of a lie.

Not one reaches your radar.

The line of your vision drops, creeping down his nose until it fixates on the plush pink of his lips. Instinct takes over, offering a gentle nudge until the space between two is eaten up and breath becomes shared as a line was about to be crossed—a prophecy fulfilled.

When Azriel’s lips finally brush against yours, it’s like a coil snaps, unleashing an animal he hadn’t known existed. Sure, he had plenty of experience with childish crushes and boyish infatuation. But this, Cauldron, it nearly takes his breath away with its intensity—the burning desire that rips through his veins like a forrest fire.

One kiss bleeds into two hands desperate to acquaint themselves with your body until all that mattered was you, your spymaster and the sentient shadows protectively surrounding you both. “Azriel,” You all but keen in his ear, chest heaving and hips rolling into the hardness of him pressed against you.

“Mate.”

A whimper cuts through your throat, neck craning to make space for the perfect bruises he was sucking into the skin there. “I want you.”

“You have me,” He promises over the frantic beat of your heart, tongue laving over the soft fat of your breasts. “Even when my bones are rotting in the dirt, I’ll belong to you. My mate. Mine.”

[novacorpsrecruit]

“She’s Cheating On You”

Gen | WC 1,234 | tw: perceived romantic Stobin (fake dating), misunderstanding

Eddie wasn’t sure why he was happy.

He should be upset for Steve. Mad. Angry.

He shouldn’t be buzzing with anticipation, waiting for the perfect moment to spill the beans.

It’s just that since Steve and Robin started dating, he couldn’t stand being around them. He knew they were close, but they promised they weren’t like that. They weren’t supposed to be like that. Except a few weeks ago, they surprised the party at a movie night, hands intertwined as they announced they were going steady.

And Eddie should’ve been happy for Steve.

Except that broke his heart.

He wasn’t sure why. Steve was out of his league, batting for the other team. There was no way he would go for someone like Eddie. So Eddie tried to push him towards Nancy. Nancy was the type of girl Steve was supposed to like. Because if he likes someone like Robin —

That meant he could’ve liked someone like Eddie.

If only he was a girl, right?

So maybe Eddie distanced himself from the couple. Not wanting to see them so sugary-sweet and couple-like. Eddie felt sick to his stomach thinking of them kissing. He avoided family video unless he saw Keith’s car parked outside. He tried to make conversations brief, afraid that his jealousy and heartbreak would show.

But he still couldn’t say no to Steve.

Steve had cornered him after Hellfire, all but demanding a movie night of their own. Steve even said they could watch Evil Dead like Eddie’s been begging for months. It should feel like a victory, but Eddie’s stomach felt like stone. He remembered asking, “is Robin coming?”

“Nah,” Steve shrugged. “Girls night. Figured it could be just us.”

Eddie nodded. There was promise of pizza and beer as long as Eddie picked up the tape.

So maybe Eddie went out to Indy the night before. Hoping he could find someone to ease the pain before he spent the following day with Steve. But that’s where he saw her.

Robin and this girl — a short redhead — dancing in the back of the club. Robin tilting her chin up ever so gently to capture her lips in a kiss.

And Eddie felt the world slow to a stop.

Robin was cheating on Steve.

And Eddie couldn’t have felt happier.

Which also made him feel like a huge asshole.

His best friend, a full romantic, was cheated on by his soul mate. Eddie should be upset. He should go and break the girls up. Tell Robin that she should be thinking of Steve, and not in this gay bar. That she’s going to break his heart.

But Eddie will be there to pick up the pieces.

Eddie left, no longer interested in finding someone. He needed to find a way to tell Steve.

He ran through the scenarios, trying to imagine how Steve would react to the news. Would he break down and cry? Would he get angry and yell? Would he look at Eddie, tears in his eyes and admit his love for him?

How would Eddie try to comfort him? Tell him that Robin’s no good for him? That he deserved better? That Eddie could be better for him?

How would Eddie even break the news? Would he start all soft, taking Steve’s hands in his like he’s telling him that his grandma passed in her sleep? Would he tell him that he’s heard from a friend or that he saw with his own eyes? Would he just rip the bandaid off?

No. Steve deserved gentle. He couldn’t just blurt it out —

“Okay, what gives?” Steve said, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. “You’ve been antsy all night.”

“She’s cheating on you,” Eddie blurted out. “Robin. She’s — uh — cheating on you.”

Steve sunk back into the couch, a furrow in his brow. “What?”

“She’s a lesbian,” Eddie said. “I saw her last night at this gay bar in Indy with this girl and I — uh — she kissed her.”

Steve’s face softened into something sad. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“What —“ Steve started, his brow wrinkled as he tried to process his heartbreak. “What were you doing there? At the bar?”

“Oh — uh —“ Eddie frowned, as he tried to process Steve’s question. He thought Steve knew he was gay. Did he assume that Steve would be okay with that? “I — uh — I’m gay.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, pulling a knee up and towards his chest. “I — uh — know that. But you were there?”

Eddie nodded. “And saw her there.”

“Did you — did you stay long?” Steve asked.

“No, I left after I saw her,” Eddie said. “I was trying to figure out how to tell you.”

“You didn’t talk to anyone?”

Eddie wished he could read the expression on Steve’s face. Wish he had whatever weird telepath connection him and Robin has — had. He wished he could peer into his brain and figure out his thinking. “No.”

Steve nodded silently, lips pressed together.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie repeated. “About Robin.”

“What?” Steve asked, like he forgot about how they got to the gay bar in the first place.

“I’m sorry that Robin’s cheating on you,” Eddie said. “That’s a shitty thing to do.”

Steve shrugged, picking up the remote and pressing play. “I told her she could.”

Eddie felt his brain break. “What?”

“I told her that she could,” Steve repeated plainly. Eddie reached for the remote and paused the movie.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m her beard,” Steve said. “Well, I guess we’re both each others’ beards.”

“You have to be queer to have a beard,” Eddie said slowly.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

Eddie leaned back into the couch and processed this information. Steve and Robin are beards. Steve is single. Steve is queer. Steve is queer. “You’re single?” Steve nodded. “You’re into guys?”

“Specifically one guy in particular —“ Eddie felt his heart drop. “—but he keeps trying to bring up my fake girlfriend while we’re on a date.”

“On a date?” Eddie nearly shouted. Steve let out a laugh. “Oh my god —“

It made sense. The way Steve looked nervous when he talked to him about the movie night. The way Steve’s body was pressed against his, his arm thrown lazily over his shoulder. The way Steve looked disappointed when Eddie said he went to the gay bar last night.

“Oh my god,” Eddie repeated. “I went to the bar to get over you. I thought you weren’t into me.”

“Totally into you,” Steve grinned. “Even after you kept trying to push me towards Nance.”

“Oh,” Eddie said sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

“Between you and the kids, always pushing one of us to date,” Steve said. “We kinda got sick of it. So we decided to fake date. Just — uh — didn’t think you’d push us away after that.”

“I was jealous,” Eddie admitted.

“That’s what Robin thought,” Steve said, shifting in his spot. “She said that maybe I needed to be more forward.”

“More forward,” Eddie repeated softly

“Yeah,” Steve said, a smirk on his face. “Maybe like this —“ he leaned into Eddie’s space, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. When he pulled back, Eddie felt like Steve took his oxygen with him.

“I’m happy Robin’s cheating on you,” Eddie admitted. Steve grinned.

“Me too.”

[marvelstan0905]

Helloooo can you please write one where Ken is just stressed his practices and barely has time with reader and their baby girl so reader surprises him by taking their bby to watch hin practice and the entire time their baby is just giggling and cheering him on?

"Sunshine in the dark"

Husband!Kenji Sato X Wife!Reader [Oneshot]

TW : petnames/fluff/mentions of overwhelm, sadness and guilt/Emi mention/Kenji's mom mention/not proofread yet/mixed POV

Note : Here you go! Hope you enjoy it! Thank you for the love and support!❤️

©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

Swing. Strike. Swing. Strike again. At this point Kenji had been out more times than he could count. His head was everywhere and he felt like he was pulled in numerous directions. The guilt and overwhelming feelings that drowned him where far too immense for Kenji. He couldn't even think of a time when he spent a full day, a whole 24 hours with his wife and beautiful baby girl, d/n. Kenji's little princess was so small, just months old and his mind was eating him for not being there for every single moment of her growth. That was only the cherry on the cake. His mother was still not found. All this Ultraman stuff was dragging him further down. Kaiju alerts left and right. Even if Emi was in a far better place and with her birth mom, Kenji couldn't help but worry from time. That was his baby as well. Then his passion, a reason for a smile on his face was going downhill as well. Baseball, God. Kenji felt like he was sleeping on the field. He was losing plays left and right. He couldn't get much sleep because of his own worrying and the Kaiju alerts which were increasing day by day. Along with that, he was doing his best to be a good husband and father. Trying to change and feed the baby at night, help his wife so she can rest as well but it felt like he was more of a problem than solution to his family.

"Goddammit! You're Ken Sato! The Ken Sato! Hit the ball! Hit the ball!" Kenji roared in frustration as he slammed the bat into the ground before picking it up. As the simulation of an old ball park surrounded Kenji, another ball was picthed and he missed once again. In complete frustration he slammed his knee into the bat. Instantly regretting it, he groaned from the pain and grumbled. "Of course. You're being so stupid, Kenji"

"Go Kenji!"

"You can do it, sweetheart! Just breathe!"

"Dada!"

Kenji immediately whipped his heads towards the stands to his beautiful wife, his daughter and his mother. All three of his favorite girls. Even if one was a simulation. It made Kenji's heart skip a beat and flutter in happiness. His baby daughter, sat on his wife's lap clapping and giggling. The infant finding joy in just seeing her father. Those little joys even made Kenji's frustration dissipate. Even for a moment. With a grin, you leaned to kiss your daughter's head.

"C'mon, princess. Say 'Go daddy'" I gently coaxed my daughter whiles she cooed and babbled. D/n just clapped and giggled calling out for her father with endless joy. Kenji's eyes brimmed with tears. This small moment, this joy meant the world to him. It was just what he needed. His sunshine in the dark.

Even so the simulation of his mother sitting right next his daughter and wife was all he needed. With a quick wipe to his cheeks, Kenji readied himself.

Batter up. Ichi. Ni. San. Ball!

With all his might, Kenji swung and finally hit the ball. The ball disappeared into the landscape of the simulation as Kenji dropped the bat and felt so refreshed. This small win. This trivial achievement. It was..everything to Kenji. At this very moment, he just needed this.

"YAY! GO KENJI!" I cheered for my husband. The simulation of his mother followed in suite urging him to run. Kenji went towards the stands and picked up his daughter. With a spin around, he peppered her face in kisses before running three bases with her safely tucked in his arms. At the very last stretch, just three quarters in from the third to home base, Kenji put his tiny princess down and held her hands tight. "That's it! You're almost there!"

"Come on, little one. You can make the home run for daddy!" Kenji encouraged his daughter who giggled. D/n held onto her daddy's index fingers and with his support she waddled towards home base. With some falls and babbles on frustration, she finally got there. Kenji couldn't help but think of Emi when his baby daughter finally made the home run.

"Home run! Let's go D/n!" I shouted from the stands. My daughter giggled and smiled brightly not even knowing what she was being praised for. Blissfully unaware of the impact her bright smile had on Kenji. "Well done, baby! You did Kenji!"

"There's my girl! Well done, princess" Kenji praised his tiny girl and picked her up holding her tight and kissing her tiny face. D/n clung to her father and nestled into his affection.

"Thank you." Kenji murmured as his cheek pressed against hus daughter's soft hair. Thank you to his wife, his daughter and..of course his mother. He really needed this.

[nosyrobin]

I NEED WONDER BOY READER AND HOW THEY MET DAMIAN AND JON!!

“Is that a girl?” “IM NOT A GIRL?!”

Summary: meeting the new addition to the duo, there’s already wild first impressions

Genre: fluff

Pair: Superson trio. (Supersons x Wonderboy!reader)

Damian and Jon were in the watchtower, practically there because their fathers had a meeting. But slowly the meeting felt longer, Damian and Jon sat across from each other. Jon was asleep while Damian was awake. He dared not to close his eyes and fall asleep to an “important” meeting with his father. After the adults were done talking, Diana looked over at the supersons. She smiled and points to the two boys, “Yknow, I have a child of my own. Not very social, but would make a good addition to these two.” Immediately Damian snapped his head at the Amazon woman.

Clark smiles warmly, picking up his son who is still knocked out. “Oh yeah! Y/N. I think so too.” Damian raised a brow. He didn’t want to seem curious about this “Y/N” kid he was hearing about. But learning that the child is half Amazon or fully Amazon. He smirked, another kid to join “his” team. Amazing, maybe he can show his father that he can be a true leader. As the others leave the watch tower. Bruce drives back to the bat cave as Damian looks ahead. “Father.” Bruce hummed for his son to continue. “…when will I meet wonder woman’s heir.” Bruce smirked. “Eager are we?” Damian scoffed, now looking out the window. “Not like that father. Its just..I wanna see how she is. I wanna see if she’s just like her mother.”

Bruce held his tongue. He knew whatever happens next would be a surprise for his son. “Yes, I can see your curiosity about Y/N’s personality. But I assure you that you would be shock at how she acts.”

And oh boy would the two supersons would be shocked. Now it’s a new day, Jon and Damian were in their costumes. Batman, aka Damian’s father, aka Bruce Wayne himself asked the boys to meet him in the batcave. They did as they walked inside to see the present trinity of heroes. Batman had his stoic face and Superman was smiling. Wonder Woman was standing in-front of someone who clearly had the same material outfit as her. But when the Amazon lady moved, that’s when the two boys caught the beautiful sight of the child of the Amazon. They looked exactly like Diana. But wore pants other than a skirt. And looked more masculine, but the face is what threw the super off. Along with the boy wonder. Jon pointed a finger at the kid who seemed a little older than them. 11 at most. “Is that a girl?”

……..

“IM NOT A GIRL?!” The Amazon yelled shocked. The adults let out chuckles, even the Batman let a small one out before regaining his face. Jon felt heat hit his face of embarrassment, Damian showed shock before he switched his expression. “Wow superboy. I thought you would use your x ray vision.” Jon, still flustered looked at his best friend. “X ray vision is not supposed to be used like that Robin!” The older Amazon male snickered, which brought the boy’s attention to the male. “Jeez, what a first impression.” Wonderboy says. He walks up, holding his hand out. “Sup, I’m wonderboy. Son of Wonder Woman. But honestly, I already know your identities. Doesn’t take a genius to know.” The boy says. Jon didn’t care about his identity being known as of the minute. His manners were taking over as he shook the Boy’s hand.

“I’m superboy, Jonathan Kent. But you can call me Jon when we aren’t superheroes!” He giddily says. The boy only nods, “Okay Jon. I’m Y/N Prince. But you probably heard my name already.” Y/N winked at the super, Jon felt heat hit his face again. His ears tinted red as he quickly pulls his hand back. Damian moved forward, his arms crossed looking at the boy in-front of him. “So, you know who I am?” His face hardens. Y/N snorted with a smirk, a smirk that lifted one side of his lips to his ear. “Course I do, Damian Wayne.” Y/N ruffled the hair of the tanned boy. Damian huffs and immediately pushes the male’s hands off his head. His ears are a little red but it soon calms down. “Funny how I’m the oldest of this trio. Was hoping you guys would be at least my exact age. But that’s okay.” The Amazon boy shrugged and started to float.

Jon’s eyes light up, immediately started to float off the ground. “You can fly?! I mean of course you can fly, you’re wonder woman’s son! Omg we can fly around and catch bad guys! Have flying races! There’s so much things!” Jon was so excited to have an another flying person like him. And his age range as well! Damian clicked his tongue in distaste. Damian wasn’t jealous that his best friend was practically flying around the bat with the new addition. The superson trio was so caught up knowing about each other that they didn’t know their parents had left.

As Damian stare at the flying boys, Y/N smiles down at the boy wonder. The Amazon male swooped down and lifted the bird in his arms. “Aww birdy don’t be sad you can’t fly.” Y/N coos playfully, Damian scoffs. He can feel his facade melt, Jon chuckles as the two flying boys flew around the bat cave. Damian was fully relaxed in the boy’s arms, leaning his head against the amazon’s chest.

“Boy. It’s time to go home.” The flying boys stopped their flying. Damian immediately realized his softened demeanor and pushed himself off the Amazon male. Landing on his feet like a cat, Bruce raised a brow under his cowl at the quick switch up. Damian could only just stand there as Clark and Diana came in the batcave. It seems their little meet up to hang out has ended. Jon frowns, “Awe man…” Jon looks at Y/N. “Think we can hangout tomorrow? I have these comic books I want to show you!” Y/N nods. “Sure man!” Clark and Diana fist bumped each other, smiling as Jon hugged the Amazon boy goodbye.

After the Amazons are gone, leaving just the supers and bats. Jon pulls his dad’s cape. “Could he come to our house? PLEASEE” Clark chuckled and patted his son. “Sure sport. Sure.” Damian had his arms crossed. Looking down, Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want Y/N to come over as well?” Damian stayed quiet before a curt nod was received. Bruce smiled. “Alright then, I’ll set up your play date after Jon’s.” The Kents were now gone, leaving the Waynes to their home.

Neither the less of tonight, Damian was interested in the Amazon male. His charming smile, his compassionate nature , his calming attitude that he oddly find..attractive. Jon felt the same way, his eyes were blown out wide. You would’ve seen a tail behind him wagging when he sees that the male was strong just like him. But of course Y/N is strong like him! Y/N’s an Amazon, he’s a kryptonian. Plus he loves his heart beat makes him calm. Hopefully he can get a playdate with him soon!

This trio would be legendary for the future of heroes.

[thestarlightexpress]

Kinktober Day 3 - Foursome - Bat Boys x Reader

TW: Sexual themes, praise, etc.

word count = 2.6k words

NSFW below the cut

Lipstick, heels, and jewelry - all the accessories you needed to pull tonight’s outfit together. This was the first time in a while that you had been able to just go out and spend a night with your family. With Mor and Amren out on missions, you had planned to just spend the night with your boys getting very drunk and dancing. Rita’s dancefloor hadn’t seen the type of action you had planned in decades.

You touched up your makeup and gave yourself a once-over in the mirror before leaving your room and heading towards the living room right on time.

Unfortunately, you were greeted by your three stubborn bats who were decidedly not dressed appropriately for a night of good old-fashioned drunken revelry. You marched up to them with your hands on your hips and huffed, “Oh by the Cauldron, what the hell is this? Why are you not ready?”. 

Cassian threw back his head and barked out a laugh while Rhys threw a placating, courtly smile your way to appease you. “We figured it might be a better idea to keep the party here, can’t have you getting distracted by any pretty fae while we’re supposed to be spending time together.”, Rhys added a playful wink. You rolled your eyes and pouted your lips at the dig at your tendency to wander while out with them. 

“And you couldn’t have told me this before I got all dressed up?”, you questioned him with a seething glare.

To your left, Azriel shifted in his place on the couch and his eyes grazed up and down your firm before a smirk settled on his face. “Well then you would be here all pretty and dolled up for, now would you?” His heated gaze caused a rosy blush to sit on your cheeks as his hand slid up your thigh to play with the hem of your dress that conveniently ended right under the curve of your ass. 

Before you had a chance to retort, his rough palms gripped your waist and pulled you down onto the couch next to him with your legs draped over his lap. Cassian and Rhys shared a humorous eye roll, knowing how close you and Azriel are - often not seeing one without the other. Whether they picked up on the thinly veiled sexual tension between you two, you weren’t sure. 

Rhys placed a warm hand on your knee before standing up. “Relax, princess. I’ll break out the good wine and you don’t even have to pay for it.” 

You rolled your eyes and whispered under your breath as he sauntered over to the wine cellar, “Not like you weren’t going to pay for it anyway.”

As Azriel wrapped a strong arm around your waist and pulled you into his side, you felt Rhys slip into your mind. 

I heard that, darling. 

You lightly chuckled and smiled to yourself before commenting with a sarcastic tone lacing your words.

You were meant to, my Lord.

Rhys speedily returned with copious amounts of wine and 4 glasses. Hours later and multiple glasses later, you found yourself quite tipsy and giggly. You were still nestled into Azriel’s side. When Cassian started to recount one of your most recent escapades at Rita’s, you blushed madly and curled to hide your face and embarrassed laughter into Az’s chest. 

You felt Azriel’s small snicker through his chest, “C’mon Cass, I’m sure that she doesn’t remember that moment quite as fondly as you do.” You peeked your head out and started to lazily stretch out of his hold. 

“To be fair Cass, he was quite pretty. You could’ve done without hitting him.” Cassian beamed over at you, completely unaffected by you chastising him. 

“Who’s going to defend your honor if we don’t? People have to know who you belong to after all.”, he added with a wink. 

You scoffed as you hopped off the couch. As you headed to the kitchen for a snack, you made sure to ruffle Cassian’s hair on the way, “I think we both know I can handle myself, General.” 

He made sure to call out to you before you disappeared into the kitchen, “Just because you can, sweetheart, doesn’t mean you should have to.”

You returned from the kitchen having peeled an orange and shared it with your boys before sitting back down on Azriel with your legs stretched over Rhys’ lap. Rhys gripped your ankles before glancing over at you with a mischievous smirk, “I have an idea - let's play Truth or Dare, or well Truth or Drink I guess.” Despite knowing they were likely just going to joke around, you had a bad feeling.

After a few rounds where you all got progressively more drunk, you had pretty much lost all propriety and common sense. So much so that you didn’t even mind when the questions started to take an erotic turn. 

Rhys proposed a question to all of you - “So sexually speaking, what’s something you’re not willing to do.” 

Everyone shared a look before simultaneously laughing. “Hey! I’m serious, I’m just curious.”, Rhys managed to get out through a sea of snickers. 

You weren’t planning on answering but you figured you couldn’t embarrass yourself more than you already had. You always thrived well within chaos. “Well, me personally, I’m not a big fan of being told what to do.” 

A beat of silence passed as the boys shared a look with each other. Another mute moment, it seemed that they were talking without you. You scooched back on Azriel’s lap, completely missing the strangled groan you tore from his lungs, “You know, it’s not quite nice to leave someone out of a conversation in front of them. Care to clue a lady in?” 

Azriel pulled you back to his chest with one arm before pulling your hair back and whispering in your ear. “Let’s be serious now, love. We all know that you can be a good girl for the right person.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut as he started to kiss and nip down your neck. Your breath hitched as you tried to collect your thoughts. “Az, wha-what are you doing?” 

He smirked as he sucked a bruise into the crook of your neck. “Calm down, little one. I’m sure they don’t care, do you boys?” At Azriel’s subtle nudge, Rhys slid over on the couch, throwing one leg over the arm. Cassian laid back in his armchair, preparing for whatever the hell Azriel had planned. 

Azriel picked you up and sat you back down on the couch. He sat on the other arm of the couch and placed a hand on your back to steady himself. His other hand came up to your jaw and angled your head up toward him, “Now, if you can be a good girl, then I think we can all have some fun, yeah?” You looked up into the sea of greens and browns in front of you and quickly nodded your head. 

Azriel rubbed his thumb over your lower lip before leaning down and kissing you. Your stomach leaped up to your chest as you melted into him. His tongue slipped into your mouth as a hand tangled in your hair. You were utterly distracted by everything Azriel was giving you and you didn’t even notice that Rhys was inching closer and closer to you. Your breath hitched in your throat as Rhys’ hand slid up your bare thigh and up towards your hip. 

One of Rhys’ hands rested on your stomach while the other went up to your neck. He gently pulled you away from Azriel and caught your attention. His violet eyes sparked at the blissed look on your face and your puffy lips. “Do you trust us, darling?”, he softly spoke as his hand wrapped in your hair. 

“Of course, Rhys.”, you whispered while getting lost in his eyes. He quickly picked you up and moved to place you on the chaise lounge next to the couch. 

Rhys kneeled next to you, “Make sure to let us know if anything makes you feel uncomfortable or if it’s too much.”. He leaned in to kiss you as you hummed in agreement. One hand slipped around to your back and started to unzip your dress and it fell down around you.

You felt like you had stepped into an alternate dimension, there was no way that this was happening. An hour ago, you had been having a good time with your best friends and now all three of them were about to fuck you. And you were definitely going to let them.

You were pulled out of your internal monologue by the chilled wind against you. Only a sheer black slip covering your chest and barely reaching past your ass. A rosy blush stained your cheeks as you glanced at the boys, all of them seemingly distracted by you. “For the record, I’m feeling quite alone over here. Are you all just going to stare at me or get on with it?”.

Rhys darkly chuckled next to you before pulling your hair back to arch your neck. He snapped his fingers and misted their clothes into the void, leaving all of them in their undershorts. “Better?”, his hand lightly traced down your bare arm.

You looked up at him and smirked, “Much.” While you had intended to keep his attention, you found yourself distracted by how clearly you could see all three of them and the evident bulges under their shorts. 

Cassian slowly rose from his spot on the armchair across from you, where he had been watching all of this play out. He sauntered over to stand in front of you. He sweetly smiled but you could see the mischief hiding within his gaze. He grasped your ankle and pulled you forward so only your torso was lying on the lounge. The slip you were wearing floated up to barely cover your breasts. He smirked at you before slowly sinking down with his face in between your thighs. 

He took his time and teasingly placed searing open-mouth kissing up your legs. He hiked your legs on top of his shoulders before placing a teasing kiss on your clit. Before you could take a breath, he gripped your thighs and dove into your wet pussy - licking up your arousal. You threw your head back and writhed on the chair at the much-needed stimulation. 

You pushed yourself up to lean back on your forearms. Rhys tugged the slip off of you and immediately started to kiss your neck, working his way down to your nipples. You were already seeing stars and could barely pay attention. Azriel appeared next to you, twirling your hair around his fingers as one of his shadows came to float around your neck and shoulders. “You enjoying yourself, love?”.

The touch grounded you and you smiled up at him, taking your time grazing your eyes up his body. Your soft palm grasped his thigh and inched up to his hips. You brushed over his bulge and he let out a low groan as you gripped his hard cock through his shorts. He bit his lip at the wicked look in your eyes and tugged on your hair, “You want more, baby? So needy.”

You licked your lips before looking back up at him, “Well you can’t just stand there and tease me and not expect me to act on it.” You gripped the waistband of his shorts and slowly tugged them down, revealing his obscenely large cock. You tentatively wrapped your hand around it and gave it a few testing strokes. You were already on the verge of drooling just at the thought of having his cock in your mouth.

His hand replaced yours and angled your mouth over towards him. You reached out and took the weeping head into your mouth. The hiss he released sounded like music to your ears. You quickly gained confidence and took more and more of his heavy cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around him. Azriel’s grip on your hair tightened, you could tell he was holding back.

Once you were comfortable with the sheer size of his member, you looked up into his eyes and nodded. He placed another hand along your jaw and the side of your neck. You relaxed your jaw as he started to slowly thrust into your mouth. While you did have to keep yourself from gagging, the sensual feeling of his cock dragging in and out of your lips sent a new wave of arousal right to your center. 

You moaned around his cock as you felt Cass thrust two fingers into your wet cunt as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked harshly. The constant stimulation was almost too much - Az in your mouth, Rhys playing with your tits, and Cass sucking your soul out through your soaked center. You could all hear how wet you were, quickly barrelling towards your release. 

Azriel gently wrapped a hand around your throat, “Fuck baby, you’re so wet for us. You ready to cum for us?” Your eyes fluttered as your mind started to go fuzzy. It took all of your energy to look up at him and nod. He started to buck his hips into you harder, seeing how much it turned you on to let him use your mouth. This finally pushed you over the edge, clenching around Cassian’s fingers and whimpering around Azriel’s cock. 

Azriel made sure to gently wipe the tears from your cheeks while he worked you through your orgasm. However, you weren’t given much time to recover when Cass and Rhys switched places - Cassian kissing up and down your torso while Rhys positioned himself between your legs. Rhys gripped the base of his cock and ran the head through your soaked folds. He stepped closer to you and easily slipped into your messy cunt. 

The addicting stretch already had you nearing the edge again. Rhys firmly gripped your leg and tossed it over his shoulder, reveling at the new angle. He slowly groaned at the tight grip your pussy had on him as he fucked into you. 

Azriel glanced down at his brother roughly fucking you and started to feel himself getting close. He slowed down his thrusts and gingerly pushed his cock farther down until it brushed against the back of your throat, coaxing a shaky moan out of him. “That’s it, baby girl. You’re doing such a good job, taking us all so well, just like that.” 

Rhys lowly growled before kissing and biting into the skin on your knee to muffle his groans. You tightened around his cock, feeling him twitch and start to spill into you - his warm cum filling you up and making you groan around Azriel’s cock as your second orgasm crashed into you. 

Az suddenly stilled and pulled back so the tip of his cock rested on your tongue. A whiny groan was the only notice you got before he released in your mouth. You slowly sucked his cock, pulling him through his orgasm. He finally pulled out of you, letting your jaw rest.

“Open your mouth, baby.”. Your jaw dropped open, showing him his cum sitting on your tongue. He smirked before grasping your face and spitting your mouth. He tilted your chin up as you swallowed all of his release. He leaned down and kissed you, tasting himself on your tongue. “I told you you could be a good girl, didn’t I?”.

Kinktober Tag List:

@honethatty12 @sweet-chai-amore @helo1281917 @scarsandallaz @thatacotargirl @a-courtof-azriel @lmadness @riorgail @lilah-asteria @littlepippilongstocking @d3ad-ins1de @paleidiot @holypizzaqueen

[sweetyyhippyy]

After Party. Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader. *Fluff*

Summary: Eddie's fiancé has the best time at her bachelorette party. So much fun that Eddie has to take care of her when she gets home.

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: Very drunk reader. Mentions of alcohol. Reader being kind of an airhead (she's drunk its not her fault). Reader also being hungover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie had long nodded off on the couch, the reruns on the tv had run their course and now the late night infomercials played. He felt himself falling asleep while he waited for his fiancé to make her way back home from her bachelorette party, bargaining with himself he would only close his eyes for 5 minutes.  

The rapid ding of the doorbell jolted him awake, his brown eyes scanning the room in confusion at first until the annoyance of the constant ringing brought him back. He lifted himself onto his feet, shuffling to the door and opening it up. 

His fiancé was wrapped around her best friend Gianna, a squiggly smile on her face. 

“She’s fucked up.” Gianna says, handing Eddie his bride-to-be's discarded boots and her clutch purse. “I would have called to have you come pick her up, but she threatened to push me into a bush if I called you.” 

Eddie sighed, tossing her belongings onto the floor next to him and stepping out to grab hold of his fiancé. 

“Hello, handsome.” She slurs the second Eddie takes her by her hand. “I’m a married woman!” She snatches her hand out of his, furrowing her eyebrows at him. 

Eddie wanted to be amused, but he also knew she was going to fight him every step of the way until her eyes closed for the night. 

“I tried to get some food in her, but she wanted nothing to do with it. I brought it just in case you have better luck.” 

“I want him to give me chicken nuggets.” She grumbles at her friend, giving her a glaring look. 

“If you come inside, I’ll give you some chicken nuggets. But you have to let me help you.” 

“But Eddie will get mad if you touch me.” She pouts her bottom lip out dramatically, batting her eyes at him adorably. 

“I’ll talk to him and tell him I was just trying to help you and feed you.” He offers his hand again slowly, her hand reaching out for her while she untangles herself from Gianna. 

“She had like 5 tequila shots. That’s what this is.” Gianna laughs. “Your turn now.” 

“Yeah, thanks.” He replies, giving her an unamused face. 

“You put a ring on it, you’re responsible. I’ll call her in the morning to check up on her.” 

“You need me to call you a cab?” Eddie asks, not wanting to let her go without a safe ride home. 

“Gareth picked us up. He’s parked out front. Thanks though. Good luck.” 

Eddie leads her inside, carefully guiding her through the house 

until they reach their bedroom. “Here, let’s sit right here so I can help you get undressed.” 

She giggles loudly, bouncing on the edge of the bed. “You’re going to see me naked? And on the first date?” 

Eddie can’t help but smirk at her, kneeling down on one knee, grabbing her by her ankle to take her sock off. 

“My husband has that necklace. You kinda look like him, but he’s hotter.” She wiggles her eyebrows, laughing to herself. 

Eddie secretly loved she already referred to him as her husband.

“Where is he? He’s not here taking care of you while you’re drunk.” Eddie teases back to her. 

She stares at him for a while, quiet for the first time since she’s been home. 

Eddie was ready to jump up and grab the trash can in case she was unable to hold her liquor anymore. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“You look a lot like my husband.” She pokes his cheek with her finger. “But he’s hotter.” She repeats herself, smiling from ear to ear. 

As much as he loved her, she turned real dingy when she was drunk but it always made for an entertaining night. 

Eddie goes back to taking her socks off for her, rubbing her ankle when she complained her ankles were sore from her boots. 

“I miss my husband.” She sighs, laying back on the mattress dramatically. 

“What’s your husband like?” Eddie teases, wanting to see what she would say. 

She sits up onto her elbows, smiling like an idiot. “Well like I said earlier, he kinda looks like you, but he’s so much hotter. He has really pretty brown eyes, and he has this really cute mole on his lower tummy. And he’s kinda nerdy but I like it, nerds are so cute. And he’s really sweet, he loves me even though I’m really annoying and even though I drool in my sleep.”

Eddie stifles a laugh, he sure did love her despite her drooling in her sleep. “Sounds like a hell of a guy if you ask me.” 

She hums happily. “He got me this.” She shows off the engagement ring on her hand, smiling at it. 

He wasn’t going to lie, he wasn’t entirely happy with the engagement ring he had bought her. He always wanted to get her a flashy diamond like her friend Janett Marks had when she got engaged. But all he could afford was a puny diamond that was barely .5 caret. He thought she deserved something so much bigger. 

“Eddie worked so hard to get this for me. Worked a lot of hours and saved a lot of money.” A warm smile spreads across her face the longer she looks at the ring. “I really lucked out with him, I have such a good man.” 

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at her, wanting nothing more than to kiss her but she didn’t even know who he was and he didn’t want to confuse her. “Yeah, it sounds like you have a good one there. Why don’t I get you some pajamas and get you to bed?” 

She whines, throwing herself back into the bed. “I’m hungry! Eddie always feeds me!” 

“What do you want to eat, sweetheart?” 

“First,” She hops back up, wagging her finger around in the air. “Nobody calls me sweetheart other than Eddie.” 

“Okay, noted. I’m sorry.” 

“Second, I want taquitos with cheese.” 

Eddie bites back a smile, nodding his head. “Alright, I can do that. But you gotta change.” He walks over to her dresser, getting out a pair of sweatpants and a band tshirt for her. 

“You’re trying to get me naked!” She laughs obnoxiously. “You naughty boy! You can’t see me naked! You have to go!” 

“Yup, yup. I’m going.” Eddie puts his hands up in the air to surrender, closing the door behind him. “Jesus Christ.” He sighs, never seeing her that drunk before. He knew the next morning was going to be rough for her. 

By the time the taquitos were done in the microwave, she still hadn't come out of their bedroom and he was a little worried that she might have gotten sick or hurt herself by accident. 

He walks back to the room, slowly opening the door to peek his head in. 

She’s in the middle of the bed and on top of the sheets, pajamas surprisingly on her body correctly, small snores coming from her. 

Eddie goes into their closet and grabs an extra blanket, laying it on top of her, along with the trash can next to her side of the bed, just in case. “Love you, sweetheart.” 

*** 

Eddie jumps back from the pan as the grease from the bacon pops at him. “Fucker.” He curses, turning the heat down. 

“Eds?” He hears a mumble from behind him. 

He turns around to see his fiancé dragging her feet into the kitchen, eyes half open, black smudges under her eyes from the makeup Eddie tried to wipe off her face while she was asleep, and hair going in every single direction. 

“Oh good afternoon sleepy head. So nice of you to get up this fine Saturday morning. How’d you sleep?” Eddie puts on his best chipper tone, teasing her in her hungover state. 

“I feel like a giant bus hit me and ran me over.” She whines, sitting in the chair a few feet from him. “Did you have to come get me?” 

“No Gareth and Gianna brought you home, but not without a fight from you.” He smirks, putting a large glass of ice water and Tylenol in front of her. 

She grimaced at him, only imagining what she did or said to him last night. “Oh god I’m sorry. Did I say anything incriminating?” 

Eddie chuckles to himself as he flips the bacon onto the other side. “Just that your husband is hotter than me.” He turns back to look at her reaction, a shit eating grin on his face. 

She groans to herself, struggling to open the medicine bottle before whining and looking to Eddie for help. 

Eddie walks over, taking the bottle from her and opening it, shaking two white pills out and handing them to her. “Would you like a tequila sunrise to wash that down?” He teases. 

Her body visibly retches at the word tequila. “God no, eww.” 

“Come on babe!” Eddie chuckles loudly. “They say the cure to a killer hangover is to keep drinking.” 

She glares at him, holding up her middle finger to him. “You’re an ass.” She pops the pills into her mouth and takes a few sips of water before putting the cup down. “I’m sorry if I was embarrassing or was too much last night. I know sloppy drunks aren’t fun.” 

He smiles as he kisses her temple. “You had fun at your bachelorette party and I’m glad. I’ll gladly take care of you when you’re fucked up any day. It’s all part of the deal, right?” Eddie takes her left hand and touches her engagement ring. 

She smiles at him and softly nods her head. “All part of the deal.” 

“Besides, next weekend is my bachelor party. And who knows what kind of shit the guys and I are going to get into.” Eddie smirks before walking away to finish cooking breakfast.

She knew she was going to be in way over her head with drunk Eddie next weekend. She would no doubt have to rope Wayne into helping her.

[subbypeterparker]

loser!hazel smut headcannons

she’s so pathetic, i need her. loser girlfriend 🫶

➢ loser!hazel who gets flushed when you’re wearing short skirts/dresses/shorts, and low cut shirts. she knows she shouldn’t find your bare skin so attractive, but being able to see the flesh of your tits, and the curve of your ass just makes her go crazy

➢ loser!hazel who just about dies when you compliment her outfits and play with her jewelry, twisting that silver chain around your finger, slowly pulling her closer to you (she’s so oblivious to everything, she doesn’t even understand you’re trying to jump her bones)

➢ loser!hazel who gets flustered when you look at her, especially when your voice lowers to speak to her. the bat of your eyelashes, the way you lick your lips, the way you look like you’re going to eat her…

➢ loser!hazel who feels her brain go numb when she sees you during the fight club, chest panting from exhaustion, and lips bloody from the punches you’ve been taking (hey we’ve all been into someone covered in blood)

➢ loser!hazel who couldn’t help herself from getting wet when she had you pinned under her during the fight club’s meeting, and hearing all the little gasps and grunts you let out, wondering how you’d sound if maybe you were underneath her for a different reason

➢ loser!hazel who gets so horny around you, she can’t keep her brain under control when images flash in her mind. you bent over while she grips your hips and pounds into you, her being pulled by her hair to look at herself in the mirror while you’re pounding into her, how pretty you’d look with her head between your legs…

➢ loser!hazel who remains oblivious to how hot you find her, until one night you’re at her place, watching a movie, not missing the way her eyes stay trained on your lips when you speak to her. all of a sudden you’re pushing into her lips with yours, and it gets very handsy from then

➢ loser!hazel who doesn’t know what to do, and lets you take control, putting her hands directly where you want them, and letting her feel your body any way she needs

➢ loser!hazel who whines when you finally fuck her, and take off your bra to do so. something about your tits hanging in front of her face is so…😮‍💨

➢ loser!hazel who can’t help the desperate little noises she makes when your pussy touches hers, and she’s whining and begging for you to go harder

➢ loser!hazel who can’t believe someone as hot as you actually wants to have sex with her, and feels almost insecure, until your head buries itself into her neck, and you’re letting out so many breathless praises at her while struggling not to orgasm before her

➢ loser!hazel who has the biggest praise kink known to man. she can’t help but writhe when you tell her what a good girl she is, how well she’s taking you, how good her pussy and mouth are, how skilled her fingers are…she could get drunk off you praises

➢ loser!hazel who can’t get enough of you the first time you two fucked. she gets so needy in public, and this time around, real images flash through her mind. she can’t help but feel herself getting wet in the middle of class when she remembers how soft your thighs felt, especially around her head, how you looked at her with so much love when she was nervous, how pretty your moans sounded, and of course all the filthy praises you whispered in her ear

➢ loser!hazel who feels so lucky whenever she realizes you chose her out of anyone you could have wanted, and always tries to make you feel so good when she gets to fuck you (no matter how many times you tell you you wouldn’t ever pick anyone else, and that she’s the one for you)

➢ loser!hazel who gets very jealous when she sees someone flirting with you. she’ll go up to you and put her arm around you, kissing you before quietly standing there with a dopey smile until the person leaves, realizing you’re with her. you think it’s funny when she gets jealous, but you find it especially funny when she’s eager to go home after that, begging you softly to show her who she belongs to

➢ loser!hazel who doesn’t have the best stamina, and falls asleep not long after orgasming (always makes sure you do too, she’s such a giver), pressing soft kisses on your neck while you praise her, before dozing off, soft snores falling from her perfect lips

[starzblvd]

Me Espresso.ᐟ

Ellie thinks coffee tastes disgusting, but you taste delicious. Do u guys get my fire references in here, hope you babes enjoy 🍽️ Band!Ellie Bsf!ellie college!au

Hot summer nights while having your knees digging your weight into the carpet floor of your best friends small dorm room was starting to become weekly routine. Making band tees with cheap markers for her band that had its fair amount of supporters, somehow they’d sell out every time they performed. It was probably because there’d only be like 20 shirts that actually looked good enough to put out for sale.

Sitting next to you was Ellie with half of a bun she struggled to keep it together had some strands fall out and onto the back of her neck. You could smell the perfume on her, you convinced her to buy it that one time she’d agreed to come shopping with you. Wanting to be helpful you had to show her the right way to wear it, by spraying it on your wrist to then rubbing it into her collarbone, just to be helpful of course.

Holding up a finished shirt Ellie grins into the cocky face you’ve gotten to love the look of,

“Oh they’re gonna love this,”

“what your 300 Spotify listeners?”

“Ouch,” Ellie looks at you playing heartbroken to then throw the shirt right at your face. It was always banter like this, with the very few times the lines almost blurred to get somewhere further. Staying away gets harder when being with her was so natural.

“Just for that I’m so not coming to your concert tomorrow.”

“Hey hey hey I need my number one fan there, plus we’re getting ice cream after.”

You’d become a groupie to her, always front lining to every concert she was able to catch a venue in, which were basically all bars. When she’d look below to you under the neon lights playing guitar it felt like such a special moment only between you and Ellie. No crowd no other band mates, as if you knew what she was thinking of and that she wanted you too. Some of your plans started to circle around her now that she was being a bit more discovered.

”You aren’t going to talk to your fan girls?”

“Nah, I’d rather spend my time with you. You know?” Staring at each other awkwardly stopped being so awkward when they’d happen so much, it’s was perfectly normal.

And with opportunity you got to be with Ellie you already knew you’d take it. As little as you knew she was wrapped around with whatever you had been involved in too, stuck and feeding off your sweetness like a bee.

June.21.24

Just like every concert you shared your special moment, no one else can say they had Ellie’s direct attention during multiple songs. This time it was more of an outside stage with sand below you. Yellow hued string lights draped above the stage and more along the audience area. The heat was really getting to Ellie, making her glow from sweat. The black T-shirt she picked out only made her condition worse. The face framing bangs she cut herself were sticking to the side of her face.

She wasn’t even singing, but being under your watch scorched her hotter. To save herself from embarrassment she mainly looked down to her guitar playing notes, but she made a mistake looking at you when a lyric of a song she made with you in thought came up.

Tell me you never wanna lose me

Cuz I know when you call you call for me

She might’ve been a little out of it when helping writing the song, but it became too late when Dina saw the scrunched up paper and kept insisting on making it an official song for a newer album.

To you it was just another lyric that was written by anyone but Ellie. If only you knew how much she relates to your desperation to be with you in every way and any position she could. Whether your batting of eyelashes at her was intentional or not her finger slipped making an unplanned squeak slip through.

‘Fuck this is so bad she probably thinks I’m shit at playing now’

Lucky for Ellie it was the final song anyways and she could get far away from the crowd and you. Other people clapped upon their leave and when they finished their set list you knew exactly where to meet her.

”You ever going to do more than eye her when we’re up there?” Dina was putting away the instruments back to take home with help from Jessie.

“What are you even saying I don’t do that,” Ellie scoffs then sits down on a blue deflated bean bag that who knows how long it’s been in this back room.

“Oh you know what I’m talking about, your friend zone is taking longer than your time with Cat.” She crossed her arms waiting for another excuse to why she hasn’t done anything after a continued semi dating friendship since freshman year.

“She’s nothing like Cat that’s why, if I lose feelings for her after getting rejected that’s one thing but losing her completely because I fucked it up is different.” Her constant fear of never getting to be near you again because of some feelings she couldn’t stop screwed her over with overthinking everything.

In her journal it was the same thing, “She liked my shirt today, I don’t want to look weird and over wear it now, but not under wear it now. Unless she’d like to see it more often or maybe she likes my style in general she’d like me in anything?? Fucking hate this gay stuff and whys it so hard.”

One of the two large metal doors swings open with you appearing, with the smile you wore she had engraved into her mind with a hot rod of metal after sketching you a few more times she’d probably ever admit. Ellie got up and cut the short distance and accepted you into her arms trying to not look like a desperate looser that flushes over a simple hug. Her ears clammy hands didn’t make her look exactly so hot and relaxed though.

“You did amazing El’s,”

“You think so?” She lit up into a smile under your praise, no matter how many times you give it to her mind melts.

“Except for the part where she messed up on the bridge.” Ellie shot a quick mean look at Jessie, but he just turned a cold shoulder before turning away.

“At least I didn’t bump into Dina’s drums 10 times,”

While Ellie kept bickering back and forth with Jessie she still held onto you, this felt like an opening to try at doing something.

A kiss on the check seemed harmless and innocent enough to take back in the case Ellie thought it was totally disgusting. Raising your head up towards her cheek nearing the corners of her smile, pressing your lips to a pout Ellie brought her face back in your direction landing the small peck on her lips. Ellie locked in place while you pulled away, not that you wanted to, but felt too embarrassed to start a kiss you didn’t know how to finish.

“El’s ‘m so sorry, you just moved out of nowhere and-“

“No, yeah mistakes happen, it’s chill or whatever,”

Her shit faced expression wasn’t helping the full pink flush saturating deeper on her face. Ellie lowered her head to wipe the bottom of her nose trying to forget the way your lips felt, your lipgloss was still sweet on her and so was the taste of it on her tongue wiping her lips clean.

Now it was your turn to feel scared and conflicted. It was too silent in the room even with the chatter of everyone else doing their own things outside. Taking back the small kiss wasn’t so easy now that it was done and got taken up a notch further.

She dropped her arms from both of your sides, looking away from you because looking at you right now felt like looking directly into the sun.

“Ellie you should start up the car we’re done here,” Jessie throws the keys at her giving her a slight knowing look to let her go and collect herself back together.

She didn’t even say anything, walked away without a goodbye or convincing enough reassurance that would calm your nerves.

“I’m gonna go home too, see you guys.” You were left with only your actions to think about. Ellie’s response to an accidental kiss made her ran away in the other away how could’ve you imagined it going any of other way? Feeling guilt and shame were the only emotions you could feel, rethinking the crush you’ve denied yourself from paying attention to and that it should’ve stayed that way.

Instead of paying attention to the kiss Ellie let her actions drive themself, not wanting to think at all. Until she hit herself with the car door, why did I act so grossed out? Making different scenarios of how it could’ve played out a million times better she thrust the keys into the ignition.

She dug out her cracked old red iPhone from her butt pocket and threw it into the passenger side. It hit something else than the leather seat, one of the lipglosses you always carry around abandoned alone. Ellie reached for it and saw the shade label, Glassy Expresso.

It sounded like the taste in her mouth from earlier, a taste you stole from her too soon. Unscrewing the lid she contemplated just trying it on. My lips are dry anyways, she swiped the applicator across her lips twice to get an even coat and rubbed it in with her lips. Some of it slipped onto her tongue, again. If only the taste of you could come along with the gloss.

Lmk if you guys want a pt.2♡🍒

[clockwayswrites]

Part 1 Part 2

Danny & Cass, Black, Electric whirring @barbiethecryptid

cw: fear toxin

Danny is running. His feet are loud against the asphalt, loose toe of his bettered, red sneakers slapping the street loudly a moment before his foot hit hard.

They’ll hear him.

He has to keep running. He can’t let them catch him.

Why isn’t he— he can’t! He can’t change into Phantom.

If he’s Phantom they’ll know.

Molecule by molecule.

They can’t know.

He can’t be Phantom.

Never again.

Never—

A figure lands in front of him. Tall, broad shouldered.

“Dad,” Danny croaks out.

“It’s okay,” Jack says, hand outstretched as he comes slowly forward. There’s something in his hand. A syringe.

Danny stumbled back. “No! Stay away from me!”

“I’m here to help.”

“No! You’ll know and you’ll kill me and I don’t want to die again!” Danny choked on hims words as a sob tore out of him. “Please, Dad, I don’t want to die again. Please don’t kill me.”

His dad stilled.

Danny took the chance to run. He turned down an alley only for another figure to join him. But that was—

“Birdie! No, get out of here!” Danny grabbed her hand and pulled. “My dad’s here and he— I don’t know if their scanners will pick you up or not but you have to run.”

Black bird didn’t budge.

“Birdie, please,” Danny begged.

Something sharp bit into Danny’s neck. He legs felt like rubber. He clung to Birdie.

“Please, we have to run.”

-

“Cass, honey.”

Cass twisted to face Bruce. Batman. Or was he Bruce or Batman? His cowl was down, but the rest of the uniform was still in place. His expression was all Bruce though. Cass didn’t know.

She pressed back against the metal edge of the med bay bed, fingers still twisted in Danny’s. She refused to let go of his hand. She didn’t want him to wake alone.

“Cass, I’m not angry,” Batman Bruce said. His body was practically, purposefully screaming it; his arms were carefully relaxed against his side, palms empty and facing out. His shoulders were dropped so that he looked slightly smaller. His eyes were soft. “I’m not going to make him leave. I just need to understand a little bit of what’s going on.”

Cass searched his eyes. They didn’t lie. It’s why he hid them in the cowl, she thought. His eyes couldn’t lie.

Slowly, Cass shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, tucked next to Danny’s ribs and still holding his hand. She gave a small nod. Bruce could ask. The hums and beeps of medical machines loud in the silence as Bruce gathered his thoughts. He took the seat in the room and leaned forward to rest his elbows onto his knees, hands clasped. All of his attention was on Cass.

“Is he from your life before you escaped?”

Cass’s hand tightened around Danny’s and she shook her head quickly. She didn’t like to even think of Danny going through that.

Bruce must have felt the same by the breath he let out. “Alright. So he isn’t related to you? He isn’t a sibling?”

That was harder to answer. Cass tilted her head. Slowly, she tapped her finger tips to her chest and then motioned to Bruce and back to herself and then to Nightwing Dick who had come to stand in the doorway.

Bruce’s face softened. “Not by blood, but he’s family to you the same as we are— a family made.”

Cass nodded quickly. Yes. Yes that exactly.

“This is who’ve been visiting in the city, isn’t it?”

Another nod.

“Have you told him about being Black Bat? He knew who you were in mask.”

Cheeks puffed up angrily, Cass shook her head.

“Okay,” Bruce spread his hands. “It’s likely he’s a meta just from his readings. Does he have a home to go back to?”

In an aggressive motion, Cass pointed up at the ceiling, towards the manor.

Bruce just chuckled as he stood. “Okay honey, I’ll have Alfred make a room for him. You need to shower, we all were exposed to the fear toxin, but then you can stay with him.”

“Well this is going to be an interesting breakfast, I think I’ll stick around,” Dick said with a no good smile.

It made Cass’s own lips twitch into a little smile of her own.

“This one is not my fault,” Bruce said as he stepped around his oldest.

“Sure Bruce, like that matters. Can’t wait till the press release, he’s even got the right coloring,” Dick said and let Bruce past. Dick’s smile was wide as he looked at Cass. “You go shower, Cass. I’ll stay with him.”

Cass jumped off the bed and hurried off, wanting to be back with Danny quickly.

[mrsriddlenott]

The Seventh Day Of Smutmas

[smutmas masterlist] [main masterlist]

~ Stocking Stuffers ~

dom!Theo x sub!Reader x switch!Mattheo

Summary: Insanely horny Mattheo and Theo help you decorate for Christmas in your cute holiday themed outfit and hear you refer to putting gifts in their stocking as needing to stuff their stockings, and can’t help but get distracted by the idea of stuffing your stickings with a gift too.

Warnings: Teasing, Cumplay, Threesome, no Penetration as Punishment, Overstimulation, Sword Fight, Thigh Fucking.

The way you strode around the house in your velvety red dress with matching stockings was driving the boys crazy. They’d already had two talks about the way you swayed your hips and spoke to them in a higher pitched voice than usual, you were baiting them, you knew they couldn’t keep their eyes off you and you loved it. So they agreed to deprive you of all their attention as they continued decorating. That was until they felt your presence behind them, Mattheo locking eyes with Theo, begging him to let him succumb to your desires as your hands ran up their biceps to their shoulders.

“We still need to stuff the stockings,” Theo’s jaw clenched noticeably as he turned to you with angry eyes. Watching as you purposefully poked your chest out further, smiling as his eyes trailed across you before returning to your pleading eyes.

“Are you trying to get another punishment?” Theo asked you, trying to ignore the way you batted your eyes up to him sweetly as Mattheo made his way behind you. His rough hands tugging at your waist, pulling you into him as his lips attacked your neck, unable to control himself as he forced a gasp from you.

“Come on Mattheo,” Theo rolled his eyes as he watched his boyfriend and girlfriend, “You’re too fucking easy on her, you always give in.” He sighed, groaning as Mattheo licked up to your ear, eliciting a moan from your lips before he spoke.

“Hey! She deserves it. Look at her, she’s all dressed up for us,” Mattheo shook your hips slightly in his big hands with a bright smile, watching Theo’s eyes fall to watch your thighs shake, climbing up your body as your tits threatened to slip past the fluffy edge of your Christmas outfit.

“Yeah Teddy, I picked it out just for you guys. Look it barely covers my panties!!” You said excitedly as you turned in Mattheo’s arms, his hands migrating to your ass where the straps of your stockings disappeared, connecting to the matching underwear that peaked out from under the fluff on the hem of the Christmas dress.

“Look at her Theo, she’s been such a Good Girl today, practically giving us a show all afternoon,” Theo scoffed at his boyfriend’s words, rolling his eyes but being unable to stop himself watching Mattheo’s hands as they groped your ass, lifting your dress to expose you fully for your boyfriends.

“If you call being a little tease good than sure, but I think she’s been a but naughty,” Theo joked, stepping forward with a harsh smack to your ass before continuing, “Way too naughty for this little Santa outfit, but I guess that’s what makes it so fucking sexy.” He laughed as Mattheo chuckled, letting Theo tug you around to face him.

“Don’t think you’re getting off the hook, you wanna wear this cute little outfit then you can keep it on while me and Matty….stuff your stockings” The two laughed as your brows scrunched, eyeing Theo and cocking your head back to silently plead with Mattheo for only a second before Theo’s rough hand was tugging your chin back to face him.

“You’re gonna stand here and look pretty in your little outfit okay Baby,” Mattheo whispered into your ear as the clank of two belts filled the room, the boys seemed to know exactly what they wanted to do with you as though they were communicating without you knowing. Soon, Theo was tugging you forward, one hand on his hard cock as he spoke, “Are you okay with this? Do you want us to use you like a pretty little doll to get off?”

You were immediately shaking your head yes and within seconds Mattheo’s hands roughly grabbed your hips, forcing your thighs together before shoving his leaking tip between them with a breathy moan, fucking into your thighs as his arm came around your stomach to hold you in place. Theo watched as Mattheo’s dick moved against your plush thighs, watching his red tip poke fully out towards him before disappearing between your flesh teasingly. Theo felt himself twitch in his hand at the sight, your head tossed back against his shoulder as you squirmed around him waiting for Theo to join in on the fun.

Mattheo’s hooded eyes met Theo’s, his lazy smile disappearing as he moaned against your neck, practically begging him to help him find his release. Theo roughly grabbed your waist, lining himself up above Mattheo and shoving himself through, forcing a whine of a moan from the boy behind you as their dicks rubbed against each other. They timed their thrusts perfectly to rub fully against each other with each pull, Theo’s cock just barley rubbing up against your clit teasingly as he focused entirely on Mattheo’s pleasure as he whined behind you.

The feeling of your thighs surrounding him as the veins of Theo’s dick rubbed against his making him whine uncontrollably as he bit into your neck out of embarrassment causing you to squeal and clench your thighs harder around your boyfriends, eliciting loud moans from the both of them before Theo spoke again, “Don’t hide those fucking noises Matty, you’re almost as bad as her sometimes, you’re getting punished too.” He casually teased as he pushed Mattheo’s face away from your neck forcing him to moan and whine every time their tips touched, jolting him forward against you as you wiggled and moaned from the slightest touch.

Mattheo’s thrusts we’re becoming sloppy and faster, smacking his balls against the back of your thighs with a bruising pace before he was stuttering against you with a loud moan. His breath fanning over you shoulder as thick spurts of his cum painted your stockings and covered Theo’s cock as he continued to thrust into your thighs, pulling away before Theo tugged his front against your back, “I didn’t say to fucking stop, you’re not done until I am Mattheo.”

Theo fucked into your thighs slowly, watching Mattheo shake as his arms fully enclosed you, his mouth focused on your neck and shoulders to keep him from whining. The sight of him fucked out and slowly going limp between your thighs as he drained himself down your stockings sending him over the edge as he stuttered against you, leaning in further to nip at Mattheo’s neck and force him to whine in his ear pushing Theo over his edge as he covered your panties and thighs with his cum, mixing with Mattheo’s as it soaked into your stockings.

~~~~

@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess @limeren @h-------n @kezibear @mattheoriddlemarcuslopez @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @curiousshifter101 @tobyr68 @spididerman @hedwigprewett12 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kiwi475 @stellasdelusions

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

aaron hotchner x jacks nanny/babysitter

she’s got a crazy ex that stalked and threatened her so she moved far away to live a simple, under the radar life and started working for hotch. he knows her situation and does his best to look out for her, maybe she’s like a live in nanny ? neither of them is bold enough to make a move first until her ex finds her and hotch and the team race to save her. ends with love confessions and all the sappy stuff

could be a one shot or a short lil series i’m sure whatever you write will be amazing !

༉‧₊˚. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨-𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size babysitter!reader

— summary: your new life as a live-in nanny was wonderful, and with your dark past behind you, there was nothing that could ruin this. but as they say, what goes around comes around.

— warnings: heavily detailed violence BEWARE, surprisingly light angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, physical hurt/comfort, mutual pining, abusive ex's :[, guns, and a horribly written action/fight scene (forgive me).

— wc: 1965

⋆ a/n: okay this is a heavy fic so beware once more, but aside from that this takes a fully turn! i don't really have anything else to say besides enjoy!

masterlist | AO3

“Backpack? Check. Lunchbox? Check. Shoes are tied? Check.” 

You placed your hands on your hips triumphantly, a proud smile on your face as you examined the little boy. 

Being a live-in nanny came with being organizational and making sure that Jack was ready for school everyday without fail. It wasn’t like Aaron was super strict on you; he understands when you have your days where things are a bit out of place, but honestly it was a personal preference, and totally not because you have a big fat crush on the FBI agent.

You had been very skeptical about your babysitting position at first because of your ex who was absolutely bat shit crazy. It was a situation you had barely escaped from, and it had taken almost everything in you to get where you were now, so you were a little afraid of men in general. But Aaron was kind, and welcoming, and fatherly, someone that you felt safe with.

And then, you fell in love.

It had scared the shit out of you of course, but now it was a feeling that you welcomed with open arms, even if you couldn’t act on it. 

Your phone began to ring as you searched for the car keys, the contact name read ‘Aaron <3’.

“Morning!” You greeted with a smile as you picked up. “Good morning. How are you guys?” The older man asked. “We're doing just fine, as always,” You successfully found the keys. “How are things?” You knew better than to ask how he was, because if you had the kind of job that he did, there was no way you could answer positively. 

“We pretty much have everything we need, so we’ll probably be able to wrap this case up early.” 

“Oh Aaron, that's great!” You cheer happily and make your way back to where Jack was waiting for you. “You ready to go, little man?” Jack looks up at you from his toys. “Is that daddy on the phone?”

“Yeah buddy, you wanna say hi?” 

“Yes!” Jack’s answer was full of excitement, and you can’t help but smile. “As much as I enjoy talking to you, it looks like I’m handing you over.” You swear you could hear Aaron chuckle.

Yeah, this was a life that you could get used to.

Having the house to yourself was weird.

With Jack away at his aunt’s for the weekend, it was strangely quiet due to the emptiness of the child’s presence. You suppose you’re grateful for the break even though taking care of Jack really isn’t as tiring as one might think. 

Despite Aaron rarely being home, he’s managed to raise the boy well when he could, and it’s honestly very admirable. It’s one of the many things that made you fall in love with him. You gaze down into the wine glass at the thought, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Ugh, why does love make you such a loser?

Your bashful train of thought was stopped by a suspicious thump coming from the back of the house. Your smile dropped and a feeling of anxiety and worry twisted in your gut as you grabbed your phone that was lying on the kitchen counter.

You’re quick to dial Aaron’s number and your fingernail finds itself in your mouth as you chew on it anxiously. It’s an old habit, one that you had picked up back in your old relationship.

“Hello?” Rasped Aaron. 

You knew he had just recently flown in from wherever he was because you could hear the foot traffic of everyone grabbing their luggage from the plane’s storage.

“Hey,” Your greeting was nervous and it was something that Aaron easily picked up on. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” He asks with a furrowed brow. “Yeah, just um - I’m just hearing some weird things so I just wanted to know when you think you might be getting home.” I miss you.

“Honey what type of weird things?” Before you were able to answer, there was a loud crashing sound. You instantly dropped to the floor to hide behind the counter; you cradled the phone to your ear, “Okay uh - change of claim,” You attempted to joke. “Someone is most definitely in the house.”

Aaron tries not to panic at the way his insides turn cold, “You remember what to do, right?” He asks with a hardened voice. You gulp, stretching slightly to peer over the marble. You stare out into the darkness and a frightened shiver shoots up your spine. 

“Get to your room and enter the safe.” You reiterated what he had told you almost a year ago when you had first moved in. You’ve never shot a gun before but tonight might be the night where you learn how too.

“That’s right, and do you remember the code?” 

As you went to answer him, you were snatched up by your hair and a scream rang out and into the phone. Even though you weren’t on speaker the others that were currently standing outside with Aaron could hear it.

Aaron desperately calls out your name, and with your silence he takes off without any explanation, but his team knows to follow close behind.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing since you tried to leave me?!”

You cried out as another blow was delivered to your gut but a heavy boot. Your lungs burned and there were tears streaming down your face. He had pulled you so hard over the counter that it made your scalp burn, a blistering headache beginning to form at the base of your skull.

“Fuck you!” You spat as you attempted to prop yourself up on your elbows. 

There was a fine line between anger and fear, and this was one of those moments where they blend together. If you ended up dying tonight, at least you didn’t go down in vain.

This time he punched you in the face before snatching you up by your arms. There was a metallic taste in your mouth, a bruise already developing near your eye. “Why’d you leave me, huh?! We had a good thing going and you just… you just ruined it!”

“I didn’t ruin shit asshole!” You screamed and pushed at him but it was no use. “We were gonna get married but you… but you wanted to play house with an old man, really?!”

“You’ve been watching me.” You said in disbelief. It made your stomach twist in nausea and horror at the thought of him watching Jack, what he could’ve done to him. You had actively put the man you loved kid in danger and it devastated you.

“I had no choice!”

“You’re fucking crazy!”

“Put your hands where I can see them.” Aaron’s voice rang out throughout the house.

Before you knew it you were spun around with a gun to your head, his arm locked against your neck, faintly strangling you.

“Aaron!” You called out in relief, but it turned into a grunt as you tugged further into your ex’s chest.

Aaron’s gun was raised steadily, his eyes focused on your attacker, but he doesn’t hesitate to cast you a reassuring look. When he sees your bloody and bruised face his jaw tightens, the vein in his neck popping and visible through his skin.

“Boyfriend to the rescue, huh?” Your ex sneers into your cheek. You shudder. 

“Put the gun down.” Aaron continues to coax, and out the corner of your eye you can see Morgan approaching through the darkness. 

“Why do you want to save this slut? Don’t tell me you’ve already -” A shot rings out into the fair followed by a scream of pain.

Your ex collapses to the ground, cradling the gunshot wound in his knee as blood spills through his fingers. Aaron was the one that pulled the trigger and Morgan is already in the kitchen by the time he’s tugging you away and into his arms.

“Oh God.” You finally cried. “You came, you came…” His arms are wound tightly around you, purposefully tucking your face into his chest. “I’m here, I’m here.” He shushes and rocks you side to side in order to try and lull you.

Aaron – softly – orders you to sit down while he cleans up the blood when the rest of the team has already left.

You can’t help but watch him from where you’re sitting on the couch with his sleeves of his white button up rolled up and his hands gloved. “I’m sorry.” You decide to say, because you really were. “I’m sorry for everything.” There was so much more you wanted to say, but you felt your throat tighten with unshed tears.

“No, don’t apologize.” He says softly, abandoning the rag that he was using to scrub up said blood. “No Aaron you don’t understand. I put you and Jack in danger because of my bullshit and I thought that I had put it all behind me and I don’t -” 

“Stop.” It’s a bit firmer this time. “I knew exactly what I was getting myself into when I offered you to live with me and my son. Nothing that has occurred tonight has swayed my trust or opinion about you, you know that, right?”

“Right.” His hand holds your cheek and strokes the soft skin of it. “Good.”

Your eyes flicker down to his lips before peering back into his eyes, “If I asked you to kiss me, would you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I promise this isn’t like a trauma bond thing. I’ve liked you for as long as I’ve worked for you and I didn’t want to tell you because I have nowhere else to go if you say no. Plus,” You sigh, “I just don’t want to make things difficult or uncomfortable for you.”

“You could never do that, feelings reciprocated or not.” He reassures.

“Well are they?”

He grins at your question, “I’d be an idiot not to feel the same way.” You laugh and he leans forward to join your lips together.

A warm feeling spreads in your gut and you knew that this is what love was supposed to feel like.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna @moonysreid

[billybutcherrtrash]

Dress

I suppose it’s my destiny to write about inanimate objects. First a chair, now a dress.

CW: sexy times. MDNI. (18+)

As usual, I didn’t proofread it. 🤷🏻‍♀️

You and Spencer attend a wedding and your dress is quite a distraction.

You’d been Reid’s ride or die since day one. You’d both been young when you joined the BAU and instantly became the tamer version of Morgan and Garcia. You’d bonded over your mutual nerdy interests. The two of you watched Doctor Who and Star Wars. Your brilliance nearly matched his. He secretly loved when you challenged or questioned him during cases. He’d often call you when he needed to be talked off a ledge during a panic attack, even if it was 2:37 in the morning. It wasn’t unheard of for you two to room together when working a case. No one had ever batted an eyelash or gave it a second thought. Neither of you had really ever considered the other anything but a friend. Until of course the day you noticed him staring at you longer than he should have. The day you noticed the way he licked his lips when he was listening to you speak. The day you noticed how perfect his hands were. The day you realized you were day dreaming about his hands in places they definitely shouldn’t be. That’s when you knew you were doomed. You’d crossed a line in your head you thought you’d never cross. Now every time you were near him and he touched you in the most innocent of ways it was like a jolt to your system. The way he brushed his hand across your lower back when he passed you or when his hand grazed yours as he sat beside you on the jet. Thank God no one had noticed the way you would sneak glances at him when you knew no one was looking. You were doomed now. The risk of rejection or worse, he might actually feel the same. Only one way to find out…

Penelope had agreed to go dress shopping with you for a certain someone’s upcoming wedding. For whatever reason none of the dresses you owned seemed to meet the criteria you’d made up in your head. It was a wedding, of course they were nice enough but…not for what you had in mind.

“This one!” Penelope announced, holding up a floor length black dress.

“P, do you really think I’d look good in this?”

“Are you kidding? You’ll look stunning! Put it on!” Penelope said, ushering you into the dressing room.

You reluctantly slipped into it, unsure of how you felt about it. There was a slit running up the side that you hadn’t noticed before. It was a rather low cut for your usual taste but you couldn’t deny your breasts look great in it. You felt a bit exposed as you stepped out of the dressing room. Penelope’s jaw dropped.

“Yes! Yes! It’s perfect!” She clapped, “Oh, he’s not going to be able to keep his eye off you!”

“He?” You asked, confused.

“Babe, I have eyes. You and Reid have been playing googley eyes for months. And this, my dear, is a “fuck me” dress if I have ever seen one.”

“Wait what?” You froze.

“I’m not a profiler, but it doesn’t take a genius to see you two probably can’t share a hotel room platonically anymore.” She laughed. “And this dress will guarantee that.”

You couldn’t tell if you were mortified or relieved she’d noticed.

“You said he was making googly eyes…?”

“That man clings to every word you say. And if you don’t end up in his bed after wearing this, I don’t know what it will take.” Penelope said.

“Fine…this is the dress.” You agreed.

……

Reid was standing with Morgan when you arrived. Morgan nudged his arm, his head nodding in your direction. Reid turned and you could see his jaw drop. The look on his face didn’t get past Morgan.

“You gonna pick up your jaw off the floor, pretty boy?” He smirked.

Reid faltered to a moment before gaining his composure. He tried his best not to make it obvious that he was having a certain reaction to the dress.

“You look…” Morgan paused, nodding at you.

“Stunning.” Reid finished for him.

You blushed and smiled, “Thank you, boys. You both look handsome as ever.”

Reid couldn’t help but notice the heels you were wearing, making you several inches taller. He honestly couldn’t recall you ever wearing heels. Before he could comment, Penelope arrived to usher everyone to their seats.

“Alright, my darlings! It’s almost time! Let’s go!” She announced, grabbing your hand and leading you inside the chapel.

You found the rest of the team and settled into your seats. You could feel Reid’s eyes on you through out the ceremony. You’d casually glance at him, meeting his gaze. Penelope nudged you to bring your focus back to the nuptials in front of you. It was hard for Reid to concentrate when all he could think of was how you looked in that dress. Finally the ceremony ended and you made your way to the reception.

“He was staring the whole time.” Penelope smirked.

“Yeah, I’m aware.” You nodded, taking a glass of champagne.

“What’s your plan?”

“Plan? I don’t have a plan.” You shook your head.

“I doubt you’ll need one, but you need to talk to him. Drop subtle hints.”

“Was the dress not enough?”

“Oh, it definitely is. But can’t hurt to fuel the fire.”

“Ladies.” Morgan said, “I hate to interrupt, but I think it’s time for this lovey lady and I to dance.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Penelope smiled, taking his arm and leaving you alone.

You took a sip of your champagne as Reid approached. The butterflies had turned into pterodactyls now.

“Hi, Spence.” You said a little too shyly.

It didn’t go unnoticed by him. He could read you like a book…and just a quickly. After all these years he knew every tell you had. He could see you were avoiding direct eye contact, looking toward him but not directly at him.

“You look nice.” Reid smiled, “That dress fits you well.”

You let out a jagged breath, “Thank you, P picked it out.”

“She has good taste.” He licked his lips, his eyes dragging over you.

“She does. She also made me wear these heels”. You laughed softly.

“Well, they’re also very nice.” Reid said glancing down at them.

“They’re pretty but they are killing me”. You admitted.

You felt his hand on lower your back, causing you to look up at him. Your breathing increased as your eyes met his.

“You okay?” Reid asked.

“Yeah, why?” You nodded.

“You’ve been quiet tonight.”

“Oh, have I?”

“A little. It’s not like you.”

“It’s a wedding. Not much to talk about aside from how beautiful the bride is and how in love the happily couple are.”

“Or how good the cake is.” He laughed.

“Or how drunk the bridesmaids are getting over in the corner.” You gestured toward the scene to your left.

Spencer nodded, “They’re going to have a great night.”

You took another sip of your champagne, finally feeling your nerves settle. That didn’t change the fact you weren’t sure if you could actually go through with whatever it was you thought was going to happen.

After a few more drinks, guests started dissipating.

“I’ll walk you home.” Reid said.

“Walk? Not in these heels, Spence.” You shook your head.

“Okay, have a seat and I will take them off.”

You couldn’t help but smile, doing what he asked. Reid knelt before you and unbuckled the strap. His eyes wandered a little higher, following the slit of your dress up your leg. His hand ran over your calf gently as the other slipped your shoes from your feet. You gasped softly. God, he was going to make you crazy. Once both offending shoes were removed, you stood up.

“Omg, freedom.” You laughed.

You said your goodbyes and congratulations before making your exit. Once on the sidewalk, Spencer turned his back to you and gestured for you to jump.

“What?” You asked.

“Piggyback ride. C’mon.” He said.

“Seriously?”

“Yes! Jump, I can’t have you walking on these streets.”

“Reid, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m so serious. C’mon.”

Reluctantly, you jumped onto his back, arms around his shoulders, legs on his hips. You laughed softly at how ridiculous this way.

“It’s like 5 blocks, Spence.” You said.

“It’s fine. I promise.” He replied, beginning the trek.

“You’re being entirely too nice. I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do.”

The two of you made more small talk until you reached your building. He set you down on the stairs.

“Well…thank you for this…it’s been a nice night.” You said softly.

“I’ll walk you up.”

“You don’t have to. Five blocks is more than enough.”

“Don’t be silly.”

With that you put your key in the door to the building and made your way to your apartment.

“Do you want to come in?” You asked after opening the door.

“Yeah.” He nodded nonchalantly.

Your heart was in your throat now. It was definitely the right moment. But how were you going to pull this off? You turned to face him, prepared to just say it but he spoke first.

“Can I say something?” He asked.

“Of course.”

“If I’m being honest…that dress is going to be the death of me, Y/N.” He bit his lip.

“Oh…”

“I haven’t been able to focus on anything but you all night.” He stepped closer to you. “This dress is just…making it hard to believe I have an IQ of 187.”

“My turn to be honest…I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

And just like that, Spencer’s lips were on yours, his hands were in your hair and there was no going back. Your hands undid his tie and you tossed it aside. He pulled his suit jacket off and it fell to the floor. Next you went to work on his shirt, unbuttoning and adding it to the growing pile of discarded clothing. It took every ounce of sanity he had to pull away and take your hand leading you to your room. A room he’d slept in several times, but never had he considered doing this. He sat on the edge of the bed gazing up at you. For a moment you weren’t sure what to do. But there was only one thing to do. You reached for the single clasp that held your dress on and undid it. Spencer watched as it fell to the floor. He licked his lips and took in the sight of you. For all the years he known you, this was never something he thought he’d see. You thought you’d be embarrassed but the way he was looking at you only made you feel wanted and desired. Spencer took your hand and pulled you into his lap. You straddled his lap and were now inches away from him. He kissed you gently, more calmly than he had before.

“Spence, at some point… you’re gonna have to…take off your pants too.” You said between kisses.

“Someone’s impatient.” He replied.

“No, just seems…unfair.”

His lips moved to your neck, “You tortured me with that dress all night, that was unfair.”

You ran your hand through his hair, tugging gently. “Please?”

“Now you’re begging?” He smirked.

“Absolutely not. Just asking politely.”

He looked at you and sighed, “Fine. Lay down.”

You moved off his lap to the middle of your bed, leaning back on your pillows. Reid stood up and casually undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to the carpet. You bit your lip as he climbed back in the bed and moved on top of you.

“You look like you might like what you see.” He smirked.

“Very much.” You nodded.

“Actually, one more thing.” He said getting back up.

“Spence!” You whined.

“We need a condom.”

“I don’t have any.” You replied.

“Don’t worry. One of us is responsible.” Spencer teased.

He grabbed his wallet from his pants and pulled out two condoms, setting them on the dresser next to the bed.

“Two?” You raised eyebrow. “Someone’s optimistic.”

He climbed back on the bed and hovered above you. “No, just prepared.”

You watched as his hand slid up your thighs, slowly slipping his fingers under your underwear and pulling them down. You didn’t say a word, realization setting in that this was happening. You barely noticed he’d taken off his and was reaching for the condoms. You swallowed as the butterflies returning to your stomach. You felt anxious as he slid back over you.

“You got quiet…you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah…just nervous.”

“We don’t have to do this.”

“No, Spence, I want to. I really, really do.” You said. “More than anything.”

“Anything?” He laughed softly. “Wow, I’m honored you’re choosing me over anything else.”

He leaned in to kiss you, settling between your legs. It didn’t take long for things to become more heated, more desperate.

“Tell me when.” Reid murmured.

“Now.” was all you could say, needing him desperately.

“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable. Promise me.” He said.

“I promise”. You nodded.

His lips crash into yours and you felt him push into you. You moaned into the kiss. God, it felt amazing the way he stretched your walls to accommodate him. Every second felt like forever as you waited for him to move again. You knew he was trying to be gentle but you needed him desperately.

“Spence, please, you’re not gonna break me.” You begged softly.

Whatever restraint he’d been holding back snapped and he thrust into you causing you to yelp. He was so deep and you only wanted it more. His lips moved to your neck, kissing and sucking gently as you took every thrust.

“Just like that…fuck, Spence!” You panted.

He reached up and cubbed your breast, squeezing it gently.

“You feel fucking amazing.” He groaned against your neck.

“Don’t stop, please, please…”

“I’m not, I’ll get you there”. Spencer promised. “I got you.”

He kissed you again, more feverishly. Your hand tangled in his hair, tugging gently. Spencer hissed, his tongue running over your bottom lip. He reached down and pulled your leg up higher on his hip allowing him to sink deeper into you. Your headboard hit the wall above you with the force of his movements, causing you both to look up.

“It’s fine.” You said, biting your lip.

You could feel yourself getting close. That’s familiar ache was rising inside you.

“Close…”

Spencer’s eyes widened for moment at your words. He nodded and slid his hand for down your side and between you. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he ran his fingers over your clit. He felt you fluttering around him as he worked you to your climax. Your legs were shaking when you finally reached it. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, only spurring him on to pick up his thrusts. Your nails raked down his back, riding out your high. It was only moments later his hips faltered and he came hard, burying his face against your neck as he collapsed over you. You lay quiet, trying to catch your breath, your fingers stroking his shoulder. Finally he lifted his head and kissed you gently.

“You okay?” You asked.

“I think so.“ Spencer answered, slipping out of you.

You quietly mourned the loss of him as he climbed out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. You heard the shower turn on, and him poke his head out.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.” He winked at you.

You didn’t need to be told twice, climbing out of bed and hurrying to join him.

[imsofreakingtired]

Hi! I love your writing <3

I wanted to ask,can you please write something about really drunk Sevika being vulnerable with reader and reader comforting her?

Maybe drunk Sev talking about how tired she is or her expressing some insecurity?

anon i love this ask so much, here u go<3

tired (angst, hurt/comfort)

content warning(s): alcohol abuse, heavy(ish?) angst

“you haven’t felt right for days is it the fact you never say what comes in your mind that day? maybe it’s time to shut away ‘cause i’ve never really felt okay.” 

~~~

You can’t find Sevika anywhere—she’s not at the Last Drop, she’s not at the harbor, and no one in the Shimmer warehouse has seen her all day. You finally find her up in Silco’s empty office, sitting on the couch, nursing a bottle of hard liquor and staring blankly at the wall in front of her. Her prosthetic arm is detached, propped up against the low table. You remember that Silco’s away on a trip uptown for the night, something about him needing to buy things for Jinx’s room. The room is so silent you can hear everything in the streets outside—the fights, the drunk laughter, the rumble of wheels. Somewhere deep beneath the building you hear the distant boom of an explosion—Jinx must be working on her experiments. 

“Sevika?” you say in a low voice. She gives a start, stares at you like she’s never seen you before. 

“Hey,” she says. Her gaze is slightly unfocused, and in the dim light of the lamp the rings beneath her grey eyes look deeper and heavier than you remembered. 

“You okay?” 

You approach her slowly. You’ve never seen her like this before—sitting in this slouched position, hand limp, absent-minded. You feel a sudden concern. Is she sick? But that was like wondering if the sun shined at night. Sevika didn’t get sick. 

“I’m fine,” Sevika says gruffly. 

You feel her forehead anyway. Half-heartedly, she bats your hand away. You’re closer to her now and can smell the alcohol on her breath.

“Hey,” Sevika says again. “Why do you stick around?”  

“What?” 

She raises the bottle to her mouth, but seems to decide even that motion requires too much energy. She lets the bottle roll onto the floor. It was empty anyway. 

“I’d leave me, y’know, if I could,” Sevika mutters. “So why don’t you.” 

Then you understand. The slurring of words. The heavy tone. She’s drunk. This is somehow even more alarming than if she were sick. Sevika doesn’t get drunk. She has a powerful alcohol tolerance and disciplines herself with a limit to how much she can drink each day. She can’t afford to get carried away, doesn’t have the time to let herself fully escape from the world. There’s just too much to do. Silencing Silco’s opponents. Overseeing shipments. Bribing Piltie suppliers. Making deals with the magistrates of Zaunite districts. And, lately, cleaning up Jinx’s messes. 

At any rate, though, she’s drunk now—no doubt about it. You’re almost fascinated. Working at the Last Drop, you’ve seen any number of drunks: some sobbed loudly about past wrongs, some picked violent fights, some jumped up on tables and sang. But Sevika is collected even in intoxication. Her voice is subdued, and she looks more tired than anything. 

“I stick around because I care about you,” you say matter-of-factly, sitting down beside Sevika. 

“I’m no good,” she says. “I’ve been thinking about it. I’m no good. You deserve better.” 

“Don’t say that, Sevi. It isn’t true.”

There’s something desperate in the way she’s looking at you—a raw plea in her eyes. You cup her face in your hand, raising her chin to look her in the eye. “Hey,” you say softly. “It’s okay. Talk to me.” 

She looks away. “I feel like I’m holding up a crumbling brick wall. I’m walking through these streets and I see these kids, you know, playing in the gutter and looking up at me with their hungry eyes, and my chest gets so tight I think I might die.” She shakes her head, draws in a shuddering breath. “It’s never enough. No matter what I do, what choices I make. It’s never enough. I’m never enough.” 

“You’re doing all you can.”

“I’ve done horrible things. I close my eyes and I see these…these faces, these twisted angry faces, cursing me for what I’ve done to them.”

“You didn’t have a choice.” 

“I had the choices. I made all the wrong decisions.” Her voice breaks and she stops abruptly, biting her lip. “I just…I just don’t know myself anymore.” 

“I know you,” you tell her. “And I know you’re doing your best. I know you’re more than enough.” 

She looks at you tiredly. You wrap your arms around her, rubbing her broad shoulders.

“It's okay, Sevi. I’m here.” 

With a deep sigh she rests her head in your lap, and you stroke her hair until she falls asleep. You don’t leave her side even after you hear her slowed breathing. You stay there, running your fingers through her hair, threading out the heavy thoughts, warding away the nightmares. She won’t remember this in the morning. She would deny she ever gave a thought to any of what she told you, let alone spoke them aloud. So you store her secrets in your heart for her. If you could take away her burdens by doubling your own, you would. 

In her sleep, Sevika clings tightly to you.