#i was staring at this before posting an i think it might look like a couple other bran fanarts rip

[caustinen]

Omg I’m actually so in love with your Hollywood au 😭😭 do you have any headcanons for them? Like how they started dating, or what they do on a daily basis, general domestic things!!

Hi!! Sorry I took so long to reply but your ask sent me SPIRALLING — this whole au was such a random quick thing and I never expected it to go anywhere, but thinking of a response to this I got so into it I might actually manage to write something!

Just the first meeting hc got so ridiculously long that I’ll respond to the domestic hc’s (I HAVE SO MANY) on a separate post and tag you! Thank you for the inspiration luv 💘

HOLLYWOOD AU! First meeting:

Their first impressions are not very good… John hasn’t made it big yet but he’s definitely getting some attention so he decides to relocate to Hollywood and find a good PR-team around himself despite having always thought that the marketing/branding side of his profession is capitalistic nonsense — and while he has changed his attitude to the exctent of ”if you can’t beat them join them”, he’d still expect all the suits to be cold business men who don’t care about the art of it all.

Gale on the other hand expects all actor clients to be self-obsessed nepo pricks; he’s been climbing in the industry steadily for years and enjoys the challenge of bringing the best versions of people out and finding them their best options (he takes pride in being very good at what he does) but since initially he ended up in the industry through his love for film, he’s also often annoyed by the up-and-coming stars who only care for the fame.

Loud, relaxed and seemingly no-care-in-the-world John fits this prejudice perfectly, as does John’s expectation for an uptight, borderline rude PR-executive in a suit — at the end of the meeting he chooses a much more laid-back seeming guy called Brady to represent him, and Gale is relieved he’s not stuck with him, he really is, despite the teasing, annoying smile of that bastard refusing to leave his mind for the rest of the day.

Their second meeting is somehow WORSE, in a week or so a meeting runs long so Brady invites John to after-work drinks. Gale looks so different out of his suit (now in a white t-shirt and black pants that hug his waist tightly, hair mussled and curlier after a long day of running his hands through it) that Bucky is absolutely blinded for a second and goes to introduce himself flirtily. Gale stares at him for a bit before informing him they met last week and while John is able to laugh it off with the others, this doesn’t exactly help with Gale’s image of him (why can’t i get that smirk off my mind when he couldn’t even bother to note me??)

It doesn’t help that Bucky gets very drunk and keeps seeking his company, not caring he’s only receiving grunts as reply to his stories told draped over the blonde’s shoulders as Gale sips on his non-alcoholic beer (he also shares the Buck story and starts calling him Buck like in the show), and whatever progress John might’ve done to make him almost smile a couple of times is undone immediately as he flirts with everyone else just as much when he leaves Gale’s side, cementing him in Gale’s mind as a playboy who’s gotten a bit too into his own head with his modest success lately and decides to forget all about him.

After that they run each other a couple of times at the office and social gatherings, and things are civil enough, they chat briefly each time but there’s some strange tension between them that makes Gale uneasy and John confused and a bit frustrated because he usually gets along with everyone but this man just seems to be immune to his usual charm; he can’t understand why the man is seems so cold and barely ever speaks up, that sweet smile he rarely sees him show others is completely wasted on him in his opinion.

They only properly meet again at a premier of John’s new movie a couple of months down the road, the first one under Gale’s firm, and end up in the backroom between the red carpet and John walking into the theater post-film (Brady is busy with organizing everything) and it’s TENSE, they’ve never been in a room by just the two of them and John is obviously nervous wreck which makes him antsy and Gale isn’t making any effort to make small-talk to ease his nerves (he’s not a natural at that okay, and esp with John he doesn’t know what to say)

Only when John is basically doubled over on the couch groaning into his hands as the film approaches its end Gale is forced to interfere. ”Why are you so upset?” ”They’re gonna hate it.” Gale is thrown off, never expecting to see this vulerable side underneath all that loud confidence. ”They’re not gonna hate it.” John scoffs. ”And how would you know?” Gale frowns, annoyed. ”Listen, it’s not Casablanca but you had to know that walking into the project, and you give it enough life to keep the tension up ’till the end. This is your best work since Thorpe Abbotts so just sit back and relax.”

John stares at him, mouth open, despair forgotten for a while. ”You know my work?” he asks, blindsighted, and Gale blushes and turns away. ”Maybe. I go to most films they show in my local theatre so don’t make too much of it.” John doesn’t have time to digest the words properly before he’s ushered to take the applause of the crowd, but it stays with him.

Things shift after that. John starts to pay attention to what Gale says, and realizes while he might speak rarely, when he does it’s always meaningful and thought-out. When Brady wants to make him do some new audition tapes he asks him to bring some of his collegues for second opinions, and he’s satisfied to see Gale roll up to the little studio they’ve rented one afternoon.

Wanting to impress Gale apparently works wonders because he feels like he reaches a new level with scene they’re working with, and the feedback reflects this. Even Gale gives him an approving nod, which somehow sends butterflies down his insides.

He turns his show-off when they go for drinks as a group next time to actually have a conversation with the blonde, and it turns out Gale is OBSESSED with old hollywood — whenever things were bad in his childhood home (often) he’d hide himself into the world of fiction of all kinds, and he’s seen an obscene number of films and loves learning trivia about it too, film star biographies are his favorite genre of books. He used to go to his little local movie theatre so much he was eventually offered a job there and could help with picking the movies, but his brief dreams of being an actor were never realized as he knew he needed a less pecarious job to give himself the stability his childhood home didn’t offer.

Learning these pieces of information draws John even more facinated with him, and Gale seems to be laughing at more and more of his jokes too. Once Gale lets his guard down he has also started to see John underneath the bravado, and makes mental notes to check out the books he recommends and he might even lightly flirt back these days, secretly enjoying the those dark, observant eyes fixed on him and squeezing into a surprised smile.

All in all, it’s been going better for a while until a faithful day, when they’re doing another auditiong tape. Bucky’s been rejected from a film he really wanted earlier that day, and his previous film has gotten some lukrwarm reviews upon getting into streaming services, so he’s in a shitty mood, and the unimpressed faces Gale keeps making annoy him to no end.

They call it a day and they agree to meet at a bar closeby to start the weekend and get everyone’s spirits up. The beer only serves to make Bucky more upset tho, espescially when he sees Gale hitting it up with someone who walks up to him, laughing at his stuff and looking relaxed in a way he never quite does with him. A bit drunk and a lot angry he follows him to the bathroom, Gale noticing him as he walks in with the same swing of the door. He turns around and greets him, the smile from talking to that whatever dude still lingering on his lips being John’s final straw.

”Oh, so you can be happy? Thought it was fucking impossible to achieve.” Gale’s smile immediately drops and his posture shifts, arms crossing over his chest. ”What are you talking about?” ”You’re always making those faces no matter what I do. You’ll ruin your pretty face with all that frowning.” ”What on earth are you-” ”When I try to talk with you. Or when I do a scene and you’re supposed to help but you just keep looking at me like I’m an idiot. I don’r get it.”

Gale starts to get upset too now, something John has never seen before, his calmness finally breaking. ”What do you want me to say?!” ”I don’t know, be fucking supportive for once?!” ”I am being supportive by being honest! Do you think that was the best you can do?” It surprises John, but he’s already too worked up to back down. ”Well what if it is?” They’ve gotten closer to each other in the empty men’s room, and Gale’s hands are no longer crossed, he’s pointing at John’s chest and staring him down. ”You have so much goddman potential, John Egan, and it’s killing me to see you waste it like that. Reach for something bigger. Get more complex charachters, more nunaced scripts. If it takes you hating me to hear that then so be it.” John scoffs despite the blush trying to creep to his cheeks. ”Well since you know fucking everything maybe you should help me find those roles.” ”I’m not your agent, or your publicist, or your mom, or your boyfriend, I don’t see how it’s any of my-” They’re practically yelling at each other, and without thinking John takes the wrist of Gale’s hand poking his chest to his and pushes it down so they’re chest to chest, noses almost touching, so close they’ve gotten. ”Maybe you could just help me out if you didn’t hate me so much.” John isn’t yelling anymore, and all of Gale’s nerves are on fire, he can feel John’s breath on his cheeks, his own pulse pounding in his chest. ”I don’t hate-” And that’s as far as he gets before John crashes their lips together, the small movement inevidable as the sun coming up each morning.

Gale makes a muffled sound into the kiss and goes to grab his shirt, pulling him closer as John reaches to cup the back of his head. The kiss is just as messy and teethy and perfect as the months of growing tension between them has promised. Gale wants to climb him and bite him and drag him down the floor, his own desire punching air out of him as John stumbles until his back hits the wall, his big hand protecting his head from the hard impact. They are lost in it until their lips are swollen and bruised and they’re both more than half-hard after being pressed so tightly together, and Gale bites his abused lips to silence a moan trying to escape him as John dips down to suck and lick on his sweaty neck, his own hand tangling in his curls and pulling and feeling victorious as John makes a choked sound. He pulls until their eyes meet again, and he’s sure his own pupils are as big as John’s as they stare at each other for a moment, both of them trying to catch their breath like they just ran a marathon. ”You drive me fucking insane,” Gale grits at him, and John laughs a short sound. ”I drive you insane?! You’re the one prancing around… Being all, you know, intelligent and sexy with your James Dean features and Paul Newman eyes.” Gale stares at him for a little bit, mouth open, before pulling him into another kiss.

They go back to Gale’s eventually (Gale comes back to himself enough to realize he does not want to be caught with all his collegues on the other side of the bathroom wall) and they make out for a while more, little less heated but just as passionate, but when it’s getting more intense again John has a moment of clarity and pulls away. He’s drunk and tired and overwhelmed and he doesn’t want this to be just a hook-up. Gale understands but asks John to stay the night anyway and he ends up sleeping on his coach that night. It’s a bit awkward in the morning because neither of them really knows what to say and John’s just about to leave, thinking this was a mistake after all, when Gale suggest they’d watch a movie, and the nervous hope in his face grips John’s heart enough to realize there’s no walking away from what he’s started to feel for this man. They watch a film, and another, and by the third the funny commentary both of them make has shifted into the movie playing in the background as they make out, Gale in John’s lap, and it feels right.

John ends up staying the whole weekend, they just watch films and make dinner together and get to know each other. John is scared he’ll overstay his welcome but Gale makes it feel natural, and the exciting newness of it all is addicting, and perhaps exactly because they’ve had to overcome so many of their own prejudices about the other everything feels more vibrant and exciting. Seeing Gale relaxed and smiely and silly and nervous as he rolls his eyes at him when he sings along to the radio as they cook makes his heart miss a beat. He’s completely prepared to not go further than kissing for now but after a delicious, footsie heavy dinner on Sunday evening at Gale’s kitchen they finally end up in bed, and it feels just right that their first time together is slow and searching and absolutely perfect, and they get the final confirmation that their chemistry seems to be working out pretty fucking well.

After that weekend, John never accepts a role without running it by Gale first (they often read them together naked in bed on the weekends, making each other giggle while dramatically imaging the scenes while leaning into each other amongst the fluffy pillows), and within a year he’s a rising star and his name is on everyone’s lips, but he’s only got one pair of lips in mind.

It isn’t just smooth sailing after that either, navigating a relationship and his career and the publicy, but as slow as their love might have started it’s all the more steady for it, and it never stops growing.

SORRY THIS GOT SO INTENSE!!! Literally all of this came to me as I thought how to respond to your ask so thank you for being a major motivation 🖤

[weallluvnilou]

HII OMG I WOULD LOVE TO SAY I LOVE YOUR DILUC POSTS <333!!! ❤️❤️

is there any possible chance you could right a fic abt reader hearing rumors abt Diluc cheating or liking someone else per chance?? As long as you can and if u want!! <33

TYSM IF U TAKE THE IDEA!!! ❤️❤️

Hi anonymous!! Tysm for the idea lmao I was running out of post ideas n drafts <333 🤍

.•° CHEATING? °•.

(angst?/comfort)

(ANYONE CAN VIEW THIS POST! 🎧)

.•°•.

—

You were roaming around Mondstadt before this brunette lady, who you’re unfamiliar with, comes up to you. “Hey ___, you don’t know me, and this wasn’t said by me, but I think you deserve to be aware.” She takes a long sigh before she continues on.. “People are saying your husband is seeing another woman. I hope you sort it out. Have a nice day” She leaves with a guilty face slowly. Before she’s fully gone, you’re just confused. How could someone just come up to you and say that? It’s surely not true. Your thoughts take up your mind while walking home from your last of commissions.

When you reach the manor, you’re greeted by Adelinde who tells you your husbands home early. A bad feeling sets in your stomach. You go up the stairs, get undressed and into new clothes more comfortably fitting for relaxing at home as you finally come by his office door. Wondering if you should knock, because he may be busy, you notice him stop writing and hear him say “You can come in, __, I’m not that busy.” He chuckles slightly before you open the door into the low light golden room.

Before you sit down at his desk, the first thing he notices is your facial expression. The way your nose is slightly scrunching up, your eyes are filled with anxiety, until you finally meet eye contact with him.

“What’s wrong?” He says with concern when you finally sit down. “Nothing to worry about” You say pondering and playing with your fingers, now avoiding his crimson eyes. “You’re lying to me, my love. Tell me what’s wrong. If not now you can tell me later, I’ll wait.” He says sweetly waiting for you response when you look back at him.

“It’s just some rumors I’ve heard around the city, nothing big.” You say, slighting shaking and hoping on what the lady said isn’t true. You loved him to much for it to be true. “Tell me, ___. What rumors have you heard?” He says, now his voice more low then he sounded when you came in. You could tell he might have an idea the rumors are about him and you. “A lady came up to me today and told me that, you-” You pause, before you might word what you’re about to say wrong. “Might.. being seeing another woman.”

silence.

You’re too nervous to look at his eyes, knowing how you can feel his eyes locked on you. You finally look at him and you can tell he’s just as confused as you are, but his face is more stern then before. “And who, supposedly told you that?” He said coldly says, making you feel slightly worse. “I don’t know her, she just came up to me, and just told me that before walking away.” You said still keeping your eyes lock on him as he’s doing the same.

“Don’t tell me you believe them?.”

…

“I don’t but I was unsure, that’s why I came here to ask you if you were aware of what people were saying, and if it was true.” You say, finally leaving his eye contact before he puts your hands on yours. “My love, you know I would never do such a thing. You know you’re the one I love, you’re the one I want to be with, you’re the one I chose to marry.” He continues on takes your hand before it contacts his lips. “Please, never believe what the townsfolk have to say about me, or you. They already talk about me another, I don’t need them getting to you.”

You stare at him and you feel tears coming upon your eyes. You don’t know why you worried so much, you knew he loved you. ONLY, you. “I love you.” You manage to choke out before you start tearing up and hanging your head down when you hear him say “Come here.” As you do, he hugs you and you bury your head into his neck.

“I love you more, never forget that.” He says quietly for only you to hear, while he lets you stain his clothes with your tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” You say choking it out while he’s quieting you down. “You don’t need to apologize, it’s their fault.” He says lifting your chin to look at him while he places his thumb near your checks to get rid of your tears.

“Get some rest, my love, I have some papers to fill out before I can join you. I love you.” He kisses your temple and one last squeeze before you finally walk out his office, up the stairs, and to your shared bedroom before you drift asleep with you in his arms. <3 ❤️…

—-

.•°•.

—-

Tysm for this request, this was probably my favorite written piece by far. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it <3. ❤️

[sinisterexaggerator]

Hard Feelings

Hancock x Fem! Sole Survivor / Reader Insert

(AO3)

Summary: You are the General of the Minutemen. Hancock is your companion when out on missions. It's all fun and games until there are hard feelings at play, the ghoul thinking that one day you just might leave him.

Warnings: NSFW / 18+ for PiV sex, public sex (sort of), MAKEUP sex, switching, praise kink, heavy petting and kissing, fingering, biting, angst, a small domestic dispute, and negative thoughts and feelings associated with oneself (Hancock). In this fic, Hancock displays golden retriever boyfriend energy, and he is more submissive. He also experiences low self-worth, and feelings of inadequacy, which leads to doubt. At some point, he has a panic attack.

Notes: Another fanfic that is completely self-indulgent. I was inspired when I took Hancock to the Starlight Drive-In for the Minutemen mission. We were briefly separated when I (sole) climbed onto the roof of the movie screen. Hancock ran around down below in a panic, thus this idea blossomed; I mention it in this post. I stole Teeth's nickname for Hancock: Hanni. ;D )

Word count: 4.7k+

A gentle peal of thunder rocked the night, just hours from daybreak, the eerie green glow of your pre-war Pip-boy casting its luminescence across the present object of your interest: a sullied movie poster. It was curling at its edges, the faded face of a starlet frozen in time with her mouth agape having snatched your attention, for better or worse, as this potential settlement had yet to be explored—there was no telling what lurked out there among the shadows.

Rita Jean Scarlett was staring into the eyes of not man, but insect, The Barfly calling out to you from a bygone era. It was an Old World tale of weird science gone wrong, filled with hubris and lessons learned all too late. Not too far off from the reality of things, you mused, though meant as fiction, actor Chip Weathers having adorned the costume of the “ghastly” monster for his starring role. 

The creature had bulbous eyes and sticky clawed feet, yet wore a suit and hat. Once considered the stuff of nightmares, now things like this seemed to you like child’s play. You regularly joined in the company of ghouls; robots; synthetic humans, and even super mutants. You faced adversaries on the daily that would make prey animals of yesteryear look like teddy bears—an unnerving thought, but it caused you to smile regardless. 

“What are you grinnin’ about?” a curious voice asked, the creak of worn red leather signaling his closeness; two thin arms encircled you, pitted hands smoothing over skintight, extruded rubber, shiny as the ghoul’s black eyes.

“Just about how things that used to be science fiction are now science fact,” you offered vaguely, casting a glance downward to the sight of yourself being molested, Hancock groping your tit—like any typical man—before it maneuvered lower, gliding over your belly to dip between your thighs.

“Hancock!” you breathed, your pulse quickening, loins already beginning to throb as blemished fingers stroked the line of your vault suit, teasing you at its seam. 

“Hmm?” he hummed, ignoring the tone in which he had been addressed. He asked another question, even as he continued to fondle you sans mercy.  

“Things like me?” 

Hancock was unhurried, enjoying the sleek texture of the glossy fabric against the underside of his thumb. He was positive he was making you wet, wondering how long you might last before you were begging him to fuck you, just like a few hours previous.

However, his query caught you off guard, your mind preoccupied as your palm came to rest over John’s explorative hand, holding it firm, the ghoul taking liberty with your breasts again, cupping one’s shape to give it a squeeze.

“Things that shouldn’t exist? Like that monster up there who thinks he’s human,” he growled silkily, finely wrinkled digits pinching your pebbled nipple through that damnable suit that left nothing to the imagination, John’s prick hardening against the back of your leg.

“You might say that,” you replied without thinking, thoughts clouded with pleasure that would all too suddenly end, so careless was your answer that the ghoul recoiled.

“Really,” John flatly returned, as if for some reason not at all surprised, his warm, gentle touch leaving you longing, confused as to why he was beginning to walk away.

You turned from the ticket booth, staring after your lover as he kicked a loose rock across asphalt; it bounced, ricocheting off an overturned cigarette machine. Hancock pretended to be engrossed in the diner just up ahead, a part of the Starlight Drive-In theater, you both having been warned about raiders before traveling here.

“Hancock.” You followed closely behind; he did not pay you any mind, as if he had not heard you, acting about as mature as a spoiled child who was giving you the dreaded silent treatment.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you claimed, though it was the truth. To be asked that question to begin with seemed like he was fishing for flattery, but who were you to deny the charismatic Mayor of Goodneighbor a harmless stroke to his ego, especially when he meant so much to you.

“Is that where the “might” part comes in?” he snapped, his tone irritated; it was becoming obvious that he had not expected you to agree with him on such matters, the conversation quickly devolving. 

“Is this our first fight? Are we fighting?” you asked, Hancock’s beady eyes narrowing beneath his hairless brow at the flippant way you were brushing off his feelings, or so he thought. 

“Look, if you don’t want to travel with a ghoul, why didn’t you just say so— got better things I could be doing,” he groused, namely chems with his name on them. 

“Is that so? Well, far be it from me to stop you from doing those better things,” you returned, not understanding why he couldn’t just forgive you for something said in passing.

“Always a smart ass,” he complained, as if Hancock himself wasn’t guilty of using his fair share of sarcasm.

Had you not been so heated, you may have remembered just how self-conscious the sociable, charming mayor actually was. His confidence was partially a façade, though he wasn’t one to normally bring down a mood with his own insecurities. Being the introspective sort meant that Hancock wasn’t afraid to get to the heart of things, even at the cost of his own self-esteem. 

John had even allowed you in, being vulnerable by sharing details of his sorrowful past; it was no secret the ending had been bittersweet, if not unhappy. His own appearance had sickened him; he found it hard to believe a gal like you wanted anything to do with him, much less desire to share a bed together, especially since he wasn’t exactly a looker by human standards.

Perhaps you had failed to give him reassurance when it was needed, though temporarily blinded by your temper. Instead of trying to clear things up, you made it worse. 

“You’d be one to know,” you baited.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hancock shot back, droplets of rain beginning to descend toward the ground.

“You know what? Go over there, check that place out.” You gruffly dismissed him, pointing toward the diner. “I think we both need some time to cool off,” you added, voice sounding less than amicable toward the man whose forehead lurched, as if he had been punched in the gut. 

“Yeah? Fine.” John’s feelings were hurt more by this simple demand than anything you had said thus far, Hancock behaving like a scolded puppy whose owner had treated it unfairly.

You shook your head as you watched him march away, Hancock’s red frock coat glistening thanks to a now steady sprinkle. You sighed, turning toward a slew of rusting, run-down autos, spying a shed somewhere in the distance—you hoped it had a crafting station, as your orders from Preston Garvey were clear.

---

No raiders were present, only mole rats and radroaches. Hancock had kept his distance at your request, though you weren’t so oblivious that you failed to notice the way he routinely hovered only a stone’s throw away. The ghoul was caught basking in your shadow more than once, stealing glimpses, a frown pulling down the edges of his thin-lipped mouth. Yet he would move along the moment you laid your eyes on him, as if embarrassed, not wishing to be the victim of your ire.  

Overall, he seemed to be taking things about as well as you had hoped, though he had technically been the one to start it. You weren’t a mind reader, either, refusing to try and decipher his body language despite the moping, waiting for a time you felt more at ease.

Although, it undeniably tugged at your heartstrings—knowing he was suffering in some capacity—but you kept a clear head, focusing on the task at hand—building a radio relay tower from spare parts in order to reach out to others, reclaiming the theater in the name of the Minutemen with the sole purpose of making the Commonwealth a better place, one settlement at a time.

It was when another accursed mole rat burst forth from its earthy den that you yelped in surprise, drawing your double-action revolver almost a moment too late. With teeth nipping at your toes, you shot the beast, Hancock having dashed to your aid.

You glanced back at him, rattled; he seemed satisfied knowing you weren’t hurt, though his gaze lingered, as if there was something on the tip of his tongue. 

After a moment, he asked, “Can we talk?”

“Not right now.” You shook yourself off, taking a deep breath to assist in the slowing of your pulse. You returned to your workstation, deciding it wasn’t appropriate to address any more personal issues at this juncture—you both had a job to do.

“Sure, got it,” Hancock said grouchily, the ghoul wandering off to continue sifting through various piles of refuse for any usable materials to add to your haul, though inside it felt as if gnarled fingers were cinching tightly around his heart. Anxiety was welling within him, as not being on good terms with you did not sit right; beneath the surface, he was a troubled bundle of nerves, though he did not want to rush you by any means.

If only you knew about the disturbing thoughts that were crawling up John’s brainpan, slithering through the cracks to possess his mental faculties, feeding them fear; unsurety, outwardly expressed by way of a sour attitude. So involved was he with the many voices collecting in his head, that he failed to notice when you had finished installing the relay tower, your instincts guiding you to the Starlight Drive-in’s once magnificent three-story screen.

You took the stairs, moving past a shoddy door to climb to the top. The sun was newly risen, a fine mist hanging over the expansive parking lot, rays of light from your planet’s star casting a beautiful glow along remnants of grass, present in patches, though the area was plagued by the contamination of rads—another item on your to-do list. 

You were enjoying the view when you observed Hancock poking around the last place he’d seen you, determining you were in a better mood and willing to talk. You had planned to call out to him when you saw him run the other way, circling the diner, and then the first place you had gathered—the ticket booth where you had exchanged unpleasantries. 

Confused, you continued your study of his erratic behavior, wondering if there was some unknown enemy skulking about, yet Hancock had no weapon drawn, his gait all at once frantic and without rhyme or reason, the ghoul seeming to have no particular destination in mind. 

“Hancock?” you asked yourself quietly, baffled at how John was going insofar as to peek inside doorless cars, or even under them, kicking into a full-fledge run as he made his way toward your perch. He wasn’t paying heed to anything that wasn’t at ground-level, failing to notice you up high above.

“Han—” you were enthralled, the ghoul almost as fast as a feral, which was a less than comforting thought, watching as John ran a lap around the base of the screen. 

You followed, pushing off the railing to walk the few short steps to the opposite side, catching him turn the corner as he looped back around. It wasn’t until you heard his panicked breathing and the terrified whisper of your name that you completely understood, gut clenching as Hancock came to a disconcerting stop. 

The poor thing looked to be having a meltdown, head darting to the left and right, though the only thing visible to you was the top of his tricorn hat. He began to pace, first one direction, and then another, not keeping to east or west, but zigzagging as if he couldn’t decide where to go, or what to do. 

He called your name again, this time louder, sounding more distressed. You could not tear your eyes away as Hancock fell to his knees, fingers digging into soft dirt as the ghoul appeared to be in the throes of a panic attack.

Was he—

Spurred to action, you turned toward the way you came in, quick to rush down the stairs as swiftly as your legs could carry you. You sprinted around the bend of the building, nearly bumping into an abandoned cooking station off to your right, skirting it in the nick of time; you passed behind the structure, witness to a heartbreaking sight.

“Hey,” you whispered, Hancock having pushed himself back against the wall, knees to chest. The ghoul was tightly hugging his own legs, his marred face buried in the folds of his coat.

You weren’t sure what was happening, or why, only that he seemed deeply upset he could not find you, not expecting your brief absence would have such a negative effect. The ghoul was mumbling words you could not discern as you tiptoed forward, bending down to his level to address his huddled form.

“Hanni?” you asked gently, calling him by a pet name you had given him so long ago, John’s head shooting up, onyx eyes glistening, though you dare not think he had shed tears on your behalf. 

Hancock gazed at you, his expression a mix of sadness, incredulity, and stark relief. You placed a hand on his shoulder, concern marking your features, John not budging from his half-fetal position. 

“I thought—" he began, voice cracking, words quavering with an emotion you could not quite define, “—I thought you’d skipped out on me,” he offered pathetically, the amount of hurt present in his eyes enough to make you feel as if you deserved to die. So devastating was the look plastered across his handsome, ghoulish face that you wanted to cry, moving to cup his ruined cheek in the crux of your palm.

“Why would I do that?” you asked, tone soft but firm, staring at your reflection within gorgeous, dark depths, as if the answer lay hidden somewhere deep inside them.

“Because I don’t deserve you; because you can do better than me,” he answered without hesitation, “because who would want to be stuck with this ugly mug; wouldn’t wish it on my own worst enemy,” he finished flatly, Hancock’s dispirited disposition arising from being rejected—that’s not to say he blamed you.

“Didn’t wanna talk, ignoring me, couldn’t find you—just figured you were through,” he continued, tone solemn, making you feel awful. 

You had deeply sinned to make this man react in such a manner—that was your first thought, Hancock’s gloomy mood permeating your defenses. All the walls you had in place came tumbling down, feeling nearly sick to your stomach as you scooched forward, prompting Hancock to drop his knees, legs finding even ground.

“No,” you berated, “none of that is true.” You shifted, straddling the ghoul, your other hand joining its partner to cradle his jaw opposite. “I won’t leave you,” you pledged, placing a kiss atop his furrowed mouth. “The thought never even crossed my mind.”

Hancock searched your face; he expelled a dejected sigh, breathing out through the hollow cavity that once housed his human nose. “You—you’re the best thing I’ve got. I don’t want to lose you, sunshine. I’d be dead in a ditch somewhere if it weren’t for you, hopped up on chems,” he admitted, hanging his head. “But don’t think I would blame you for hittin’ the road. I’d manage, somehow. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to make do, so just say the word. Don’t feel obligated to stick around.” 

“Is that what you think? That I would abandon you? That I would get sick of you? That I don’t want you here by my side? Hancock—” you emphasized, running your thumb over the curve of his ear, forcing him to look squarely at you with a gentle redirection, “—I mean it when I say I love you,” you lamented, kissing his raised flesh. “Please, don’t doubt me.” 

John lifted his head with your help, the concave divot residing front and center brushing lightly across your cheek. He presented you with a kiss this time, his cock enlivening beneath you, unable to help his arousal at the admission of your heartfelt words. 

“I won’t, not anymore,” he promised, another kiss administered, and then another, returning each touch of his lips with one of your own until they picked up in fervor, Hancock’s sly tongue subtly snaking its way between your teeth. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” you cooed, warm, wet muscles intertwining in an orchestrated dance that rekindled the deep-seated ache of your loins. 

“You listen so well,” you needled playfully; you had the ghoul’s number, knowing just what made him tick.

Hancock moaned a sound of gratitude, your impromptu praise causing his prick to flex, lean, wilted fingers creeping forward to place themselves deliberately along your thighs; they ran up the dips in your hips, and smoothed over the shape of your waist.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Hancock grated between avid swirls. His cock was riding up against your slinky blue vault suit—like liquid latex poured to conform to your body, it fit tight as a glove.

John held no complaints, only that you were still wearing it. Fortunately, you had ideas. 

“Being such a good boy for me,” you teased, your own hands roving, exploring the contours of his slender chest and waist, sweeping back and forth; you hooked his partially corroded throat, carefully capturing Hancock between the crook of your palm, thumb trailing his Adam’s apple in a light caress. 

“Not sure you know what that does to me,” he purred, the ghoul at your mercy as you gyrated your hips, your own sex succinctly aligned as you massaged his erection through faded black slacks.  

“Are you so sure?” you asked, grinning into your kiss, one of Hancock’s hands sneaking along synthetic fibers for three fingers to stroke the underside of your jumper. He pushed up only slightly, cupping your mound; you felt it in your core, a subdued moan breathed straight into the ghoul’s mouth—Hancock was so turned on, it was a wonder he didn’t just nut right then and there.

“You teasin’ me, sunshine?” John panted, groping your breast, digits fingering stitchwork; you bit down on your bottom lip as you reached for the clasp at the front of your collar.

“Get this off me,” you instructed, fumbling with the pull of your zipper.

“Is that a request?” Hancock asked cheekily, though he did not expect an answer.

“An order,” you responded, feigning authority, Hancock doing as he was told, though there was a hint of a smile crawling up the side of his face. 

“Yes, ma’am,” the ghoul chortled wryly, watching as you shed your suit like a second skin. You ushered it past the arc of your shoulders, the slopes of your breasts, to the base of your hips, leaving yourself half naked and assailable; John was unable to help his amorous stare.

“You’re so beautiful,” he declared, moving to knead doughy flesh, mouth finding your throat; Hancock sucked the sweat off your flawless skin, his other hand working its way underneath what was left of your vault suit, two fingers dipping into your already soaked cunt. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, slipping in and out, thumb pushing itself between the folds of your labia to rub your throbbing bud. 

“Yes, let’s,” you returned, swirling your hips, riding Hancock’s thick fingers as you clumsily moved to untie the flag wrapped about his narrow waist. 

“Right here?” he asked, perplexed. Though not one to argue, being out in the open without cover was dangerous; he knew better than anyone the risks of the Wastes. 

“I want you,” you answered, as if that in and of itself was all he needed to hear. You knew there might be consequences, but at that moment, your hormones were the ones in charge, a sharp gasp escaping as John’s fingers curled against the anterior wall of your sex.

“I’m all yours, love, forever,” Hancock vowed, following your example. He hastily unbuckled his pants after releasing your tit with reluctance, pushing apart the flaps to withdraw his glaring hard on; precum was already seeping out the slit at its head. 

“Promise me,” you insisted, lifting up off your thighs—and Hancock’s fingers—to shimmy the rest of your suit down toward your knees. It might be a little awkward, but you were too desperate to care, taking up the ghoul’s girth in the breadth of your palm.

“Cross my heart and hope to—” 

“Don’t you dare,” you protested, shoving your tongue back into John’s mouth, guiding his cock inside you. You sank down onto your haunches, inch by delicious inch, his variegated shaft filling you full up.

Then, the ghoul went rigid. “But sunshine, what about—” 

“Shhh, that’s it,” you whispered, though Hancock hadn’t done anything to warrant a reprimand. It was your own descent that had you crooning, dipping forward to feel that delightful pressure snug against your walls. 

“Not sure you wanna end up like—”

“—I took one a few hours ago, remember?” The darling man was more concerned with your well-being than even you; you could physically feel the tension leaving his body, John relieved to know you had things under control.

“You do love me,” you stated breezily, flicking the tip of your tongue inside the helix of the ghoul’s ear; Hancock shuddered, both his hands returning to your hips, touch featherlight, prompting you to press your palms against the partition behind him to prop yourself up on either side of his head.

“Wouldn’t mind you turnin’ Ghoul,” he replied throatily, thinkin’ spending an eternity with you sounded like the best damn thing a guy could ask for. 

Hancock watched with bated breath as you rose up to enshroud him in your shadow, breasts level with his eyes. He groaned his appreciation, seizing your right nipple between puckered lips, John’s bony hips pushing up against the round of your ass. The ghoul sucked diligently, dull nails clawing gingerly into supple, human flesh, incapable of keeping a straight face.

“What was all that about not doubting each other?” John huskily reminded you, the point of his tongue flitting against your sensitive skin. He returned to suckling, as if a babe latched to nurse, the hand left idle finally slipping down your thigh. Hancock spread your lower lips apart with the underside of two fingers, a third taking its place atop your thrumming clit, engorged with blood. 

“Shut up,” you urged, wanting him to belay speaking for fear the moment might spoil, Hancock grunting in indignation before he bit down lightly on your nip. 

You gasped a broken breath, cunt rising to the head of his cock. You dropped back down; Hancock bottomed out, sequestered in the deepest part of you, snug as anything, the ghoul hypnotized by your pretty writhing. 

“Why don’t you make me.” Hancock intensified the patient revolutions of blotched fingers, dragging you down by compressing your cheeks with his thumb and index; you slumped your shoulders just enough, angling to meet his current height, tossing your arms about John’s neck to humor him with another passionate kiss.

“Done.” You rocked forward, feeling Hancock’s sizeable member immured to its base. Indecent sounds kept each other company, the squish of your conjoined loins combining with the wet, obscene spirals of your whorling tongues. It wouldn’t take much longer to climax, your slick cunt tightening its grip on John’s rock-hard cock. 

The ghoul’s chest heaved between ragged breaths, Hancock practicing his self-control. He didn’t want to cum until you did, sliding his palm up to carefully cradle the small protrusion distending your lower abdomen. 

Feeling the outline of himself inside you was nearly too much to handle, a visible tremor preceding what was to be an early warning.

“I-I can’t hold back, angel.”

“Wait,” you countered, guiding the ghoul’s head toward your breasts, driving his noseless face into your cleavage; Hancock’s tricorn shifted backward as he followed your lead. He vested himself in the cocoon of your limbs,  moaning his approval, grabbing onto a fistful of ass as your back arched in pleasure. 

You opened your eyes to gaze at the sky—it was pale blue and cloudless, for once.

You came hard, the flat of John’s palm supporting your spine as you released your ecstasy to the heavens, the ghoul’s tepid seed discharging in spurts to paint your inner walls white; his ejaculate had been offered as payment for your lovely little song.

The ghoul felt overwhelmed and full of deep affection for you; Hancock’s teeth bore down on beautiful, unblemished skin; he broke capillaries, drawing your blood to the surface, leaving his mark in the form of a dark red welt. 

You gasped at the bite, Hancock ensconcing you tightly in his arms, both of you allowing your orgasms to run their course. His grip was a comfortable vise, brittle nails burrowing into lithe flesh with almost paradoxical tenderness; John was always so careful with you.

From an outsider’s perspective, the embrace of a ghoul meant certain death, with the expectancy you would be rent into unrecognizable pieces. Such a pose as you presented now was questionable, one that evoked alarm from bystanders, settlers who had followed the beacon to their new home, expecting to find the general of the Minutemen, but not like this.

“Ghoul!” someone shouted; you heard the shuffling of leather, the clink of metal.

“No!” you yelled, protecting your lover with the entirety of your body, encapsulating his slight frame. You shielded his vitals with your bare back, hunkering down to speak to these newcomers over the peak of your shoulder. 

“He’s not feral!” you growled, hating that you had to defend him, knowing how John must feel at this moment as he gazed up at you with surprised, wide eyes. You cared not that a horde of people had seen you naked; you only cared for Hancock, determined to preserve him and all his parts.

In reality, the ghoul was seconds from tears, knowing—without a doubt—that you had meant what you said. You were guarding his wretched life with your own without question, willing to die to keep him from harm, just as he gladly would have sacrificed himself to see you live another day. 

A day, he thought, that might have been better off without him, but now he was glad to be alive (in some form or another), swallowing hard against the knot in his throat, eyes never once leaving your impassioned face.

“We’re together; we came here together, and we will leave here together, do I make myself clear?”

A person stepped forward, separating themselves from the crowd. “Yes, General,” they said, having fortunately, or rather unfortunately, recognized you.

With a sigh of relief, those gathered departed. John practically smothered you, so forceful was his hug that it nearly choked the air from your lungs. 

Hancock didn’t know what he’d done to get someone like you, and he was afraid to ask. If there were any powers at be—something, or someone—watching over him, he supposed he’d owe them one, but for now he was more than happy to count his blessings. And the sad thing was, everything, all of it, could be a dream—or one long, hallucinatory chem-trip. If this turned out to be nothing but a fucked up Jet flashback, he’d just as soon never wake up. 

“I’ll follow you to the end of the Wastes,” Hancock blurted, voice strained and rasping, fingers; arms; chest tightening as he spoke against soft tufts of hair. “You and me together, the world ain’t got a prayer.”

Despite what had just transpired, you cradled him against the bow of your neck, oblivious to the inner workings of his mind, only wishing to absorb him, for him to live in the space between your ribs that stored your heart. All you wanted was to keep him safe for all time, knowing that he deserved the world, though the ghoul would most certainly outlive you. 

It was a melancholy thought, if ever one existed, but you did not allow your mind to dwell. “Sweet man,” you murmured, “it doesn’t stand a chance in hell.”

—-

Fallout Masterlist

[luvyduvy17]

Never Forget

y/n met the man she was sure to marry, just to realize his personality changed after the summer was over. She realized, she didn’t know him. The one she thought she loved.

Warning: mentions of sex, happy -> sad (?) -> happy

I saw a headcannon about this theme of story and I couldn’t stop thinking about it but I can’t find it anymore 😖 so I just decided to write a lil story about it. If you find whoever created the similar headcannon plz tag them for credit!!!

You smiled as you settled into his arms.

You were sitting next to him, your legs on his, your head resting on his shoulder, your hands around his neck. His arms were around your lower back, keeping you close.

You were with the one person that knows absolutely everything about you.

Your likes. Your dislikes. Your opinions.

He knows everything that goes on in your brain. He knows how your eyes change when sunlight hits. He knows how your hair waves up in the ocean water but drys way more curlier. He knows how many beauty marks you have. He knows what compliments make you happy and which ones make you cringe. He knows the pet names you don’t and do like. He knows what parts on your body make you squirm and which ones turn you on. He knows all the faces you make when he’s balls deep inside of you, and what they mean.

He knows everything about you. As did you know most about him.

well. Looking back, it seemed like you know nothing about him. You didn’t know what school he went to. You didn’t know his friends.

You had his social medias, but he was a very closed person and didn’t seem to post much.

You did know his parents names. What they did. You knew he wanted to be a hero, and his love for all might. “He’s more badass than any other extra hero there is.”

You knew he was an only child, and where he grew up. You knew his favorite color was orange. Not the neon kind but the tangerine tones orange. You knew he doesn’t like sleeping late. You knew his favorite ice cream flavor is Rocky Road. You knew he enjoyed playing baseball, and his number was 1 because he always has to be number 1. You knew a lot of things about him.

You have never met anyone like Katsuki Bakugo. It was on vacation to Japan where you met him.

You came this summer to Japan to get to know your new home for a few years. Maybe you will move back to your home country. Maybe not.

It was a tropical resort, but you two have seemed to find a very secluded beach, where no one goes.

It’s where you had your first kiss with him.

It’s where you lost your virginity to him.

It’s where you fell in love with this boy.

You sat in his arms. It was almost the last week of summer, and returning to school was coming close.

You and him spent every moment together.

“The sky is so beautiful. Isn’t it?” You looked at the sky.

It’s warm orange clouds, the contrasting color clashing with the soft blue skies, the water reflecting the colors.

“Nah.” He simply said.

You sat straight to look at him.

“Cmon. What’s better than that?” You gave a small smile, before turning back to look at the view.

“M’ lookin at it.” You turned to look at him, your eyes quickly locking with yours. Your faces were inches apart, your lips the same.

Your soft smile returned, before you spoke,

“You’re too sweet, Katsuki.”

“You’re beautiful, y/n. Prettier than the sun and the ocean.”

A soft pink blush arose on your cheeks as butterflies flowed in your lower stomach. You remained staring into his deep red eyes, moving your hands to cup his handsome face.

He pulled you closer, joining your lips. You finally felt his soft lips on yours. A sensation you’ll never forget.

“Thank you, baby.” You pulled away.

You realized you would never love someone as much as you love Katsuki Bakugo. You may not know him as well as he knows you, but from what you do know, is that he’s a sweet, strong, caring boy.

It wasn’t until the very first day of school that you realized, you didn’t know him at all.

This first day was pretty rough, since just the day before, he had blocked you on everything.

Instagram, Messages, Snapchat, you name it.

Waking up to the X next to his name made your heart drop.

You decided that, maybe he didn’t love you as much as you loved him.

You decided that he wasn’t for you.

You realized that yea. He was pretty distant during the summer. Asking you to not post any pictures taken of the two of you.

“I don’t want anyone to know about us yet.”

He would say,

It was during class that You sat in your seat during class, making small talk with a girl next to you. She had pretty brown hair and she seemed really nice.

Her name was Ochaco Uraraka.

“You can sit with me and some of my friends at lunch, if you haven’t already been asked.” She smiled sweetly.

“Thank you! I will for sure.”

You smiled at her, before sitting straight forward as the teacher, Mr Aizawa addressed the class.

Once he called on you to go upfront and introduce yourself was when you finally saw him.

That stupid idiot boy you loved so much than you really cared to admit.

The eye contact was different than all the other times you looked into his eyes and he looked into yours.

He looked, different. His eyes weren’t as bright. His manner seemed even more salty than normal. He was a completely different person than he was a week ago.

It was at lunch that you learned more about his school life.

You sat with your new friends, Ochaco, Momo, Mina, Jirou and Tsuyu.

“Sooo, what’s your quirk?” Mina asked, chewing on some food.

“I have like.. telekinesis but with water.”

You smiled as Mina nodded.

“That’s so cool!” Ochaco replied.

“We’re really glad to have you!” Momo smiled.

It was at lunch that you suddenly became the hot topic at Katsukis table.

“Man that new girl.. what’s her name?”

Denki began on his rant.

“L/n?” Kirishima answered.

“Yea her! She’s so hot!” He snickered, as the rest of the group, almost in sync rolled their eyes at his remark.

“What? You can’t deny it! Not even you can Bakugo.”

Bakugo looked up from his meal watching as everyone waited for his ‘approval’.

“You need to shut the hell up, sparky.” Before turning to look at his food.

He realized he didn’t very much enjoy his group of “friends” talking about his girl. The girl he knew everything about. Kaminari couldn’t even remember your name and is out here saying these grotesque things about you, when Bakugo knows everything about you. It’s when he realized that you are now “on the market” for other guys.

It was at a friend get together at Mina’s house where they played simple group games.

“Hmm y/n! Truth or dare?” Kirishima asked.

“Truth” you waited in anticipation for his question.

“Hmmm.. have you ever been in love?”

The question you had no choice but to answer, but Atleast there was no follow ups.. right?

“Yea I have.” You answered.

“Who was it?” He followed up.

You shook your head before saying, “um you can only ask one!”

He squinted at your answer before saying,

“Cmon! We all wanna know.”

Bakugo waited, anticipating your answer. He wished the answer wouldn’t come out and if it did, it be anyone but him.

You rolled your eyes playfully.

“No!” You giggled, before Mina groaned. It’s like she made him ask!

It was about an hour later into the night where the hostess of the get together wanted to get spicier.

The game was 7 minutes in heaven.

“Okay guys! Get in a circle.” Mine snickered as the group complied.

You sat next to Mina, watching as she played with an empty glass bottle. Most likely from alcohol since she provided food and drinks there.

“We’re playing 7 minutes in heaven! And Bakugo you’re first!”

She threw the bottle into him hands.

“No. I’m not.” He rolled it into the center before Kirishima grabbed it.

“Whatreya’ a pussy?” Denki snickered, making you smile, holding back a laugh.

“Shut the hell up, dunce face! I’m not a damn pussy.” He grabbed the bottle from Kirishima and spun it.

You glanced at Mina, furrowing your eyebrows. She shared the same expression before you both turned back at the spinning bottle, watching at the tip of the bottle landed infront of you.

Great! You thought.

“Ooooo!!!” Mina shoved your shoulder.

You glared at her and shook your head, before she stood up, helping you up.

“You got this.” She winked.

“Tell me what happens!” She snickered, before she glared at Bakugo, making him stand. His was muttering swears under his breath before Mina shoved the two of you into her living room closet.

She locked the door. You couldn’t hear anything. The room was dead silent in and out. Maybe it was noise canceling?

You didn’t even want to look at him, you’re so mad!

Mad he didn’t tell you were going to the same school.

Mad he blocked you.

Mad he didn’t talk to you for the first month at school.

“Hells’ wrong with you?” He mumbled.

You turned to face him.

“What do you think?”

“The hell are you talking about?”

“Im talking about us! Everything we did! Everything we shared! All the things you told me that made me think you cared about me.”

You pushed him on his shoulders, as you continued walking toward him.

He made a scowl.

“Shared? What the hell did I share with you?”

“Are you serious?” Your voice lowered.

“You were my first time! You took what was mine and no one else’s. You took my heart.” You felt tears arise, your tone of voice softening, voice cracking.

You were now face to face with him, your faces just inches away.

���You made me fall for you. And then what? You’re just going to ignore me and act like you never said the things you said and did what you did?” A tear fell from your left eye.

You expected him to act like he didn’t know what you were talking about.

Instead, his face softened. You watched his eyes as they looked at every inch of your face. His hand softly grabbed your waist as he pulled your body closer.

“I could never ignore you, y/n.” His voice low, yet soft.

“Then why did you?” Your arms crossed as you looked down.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

His grip on you softened as you scoffed.

“You hurt me even more than you would’ve.” You sniffled, quickly wiping the tears that had fallen. You avoided eye contact.

“You know how I get. Especially around these idiots. They get in my way when I’m trying to be the best. But you. You’re so different.”

You looked at him, confused expression on your face.

“Different..how?”

He let out a shaky breath, and looked up like he was about to admit something embarrassing.

“Listen. You know I’m not good with words, but you just made me too happy for my own good. You can be stupid sometimes but you don’t act like those idiots out there that try too hard. And you’re not too bad looking either.” He smirked.

Your smile slowly returned to your face.

“I guess I get competitive. I know how these fuckers get with pretty girls like you. I just don’t want to mess up your life at school you know. I want you to.. you know.. be the best. And I don’t want these hoes fighting you because I like you more than them.”

He referred to all his little fan girls.

You laughed, his smirk turning into a smile.

His hand reached for your face, as his other wrapped around your lower back.

“I-“

You mumbled, as you stared into his red eyes. The eyes that now looked as bright as they did on that beach.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

You finally said, his smile growing at the sides.

“Right back at ya’, pretty girl.” He said, quickly leaning into the kiss. The sensation you’ll never forget, with the boy you’ll never forget.

[stereksimp]

*Scott has just been saved and they are all leaving the church.*

Stiles: He made me leave him to go save you. He's dead. He's really dead, and I never told him that I love him. Scott, I lost my chance.

Scott: You'll be OK buddy. I promise and hey maybe he's not dead. For as long as we have known him he has not been easy to kill.

Stiles: Yeah, because I have been the-

* A large black wolf slams it's body into Stiles knocking him onto the ground and proceeds to lick his face. Stiles squirms and pushes but this wolf is not moving.*

Stiles: What the fuck is happening! Where did this wolf come from? Who's wolf is it?

*After the wolf has licked every inch of him face and neck at least twice it flops down on Stiles and shoves his snout into his neck, and starts purring.*

Scott: *Trying his best not to laugh.* Buddy I think that might be your wolf.

Stiles: *Fingers mindlessly carding through fur.* What do you mean my wolf? I don't have a wolf. Scott the only wolf I would claim as mine...is...

Stiles: Holy SHIT! Derek?? Derek is this you big guy? How did you- When did you- Can you turn back?

*The black wolf huffs in his face before slowly shifting back until Derek is laying on top of him human and very naked.*

Derek: Hi *the biggest smile splits his face*

*Stiles mouth drops open and he just stares for a few minutes as everyone else decides to leave the 2 alone for a bit. Maybe get Derek some close?*

Derek: *He stares at Stiles, listening to his heart jackrabbit in his chest, and smell his emotions go through all the stages of grief in record time then happy then pissed then awe.* I love you too.

Stiles: *Suddenly confused and pissed.* You what? When the fuck did you learn to full shift? How dare you say that now after everything we have been through you choose post dying to tell me!

Derek: I figured it out when I was nearly dead. I saw my mom. She whacked my head and told me to get over myself and go to my mate. That I was torturing myself for no reason. I tried to tell her that my mate didn't love me but she just gave me this look she did when she was alive that said 'you are and idiot but I love you'. Then she roared at me and I snapped awake as a wolf.

*All the confused anger melted off Stiles' face after the first scentance and now he just stares up in awe and what Derek now realizes is Love.*

*Stiles reaches a tentative hand up to Derek's cheek and when his hand touched Derek's eyes close and he leans into the touch. He slides his hand back, carding his fingers through soft hair until his hand is on the back of his head. Then he slowly brings Derek's head down until their lips are just ghosting together.*

Stiles: *whispers softly* Of course I love you dumbwolf.

*Derek pushes the last distance and kisses him with all the love he can.*

*There is an awkward cough behind them that makes them pull apart.*

Scott: This is beautiful and I'm so happy for you guys but the rest of us would like to go and none of use want to see Derek's naked ass.

*He tosses clothes on top of Derek.*

Stiles: Speak for yourself Scotty-boy.

Derek gets dressed and instead of leaving with Braden he goes home with Stiles and they make a plan together to find and kill Kate Argent.

[saphronethaleph]

Double Dialing

Anakin looked around, cautiously.

“Was that the last of them?” he asked.

“Last ones we know about,” one of the liaison wookiees reported. Chewbacca, Anakin thought his name was – the son of Attichitcuk.

“All right, good enough for me,” Anakin decided, deactivating his lightsaber. “Skywalker to Five-oh-first command, report in?”

“Their attack has stalled, sir,” Appo reported in. “We’re preparing a counteroffensive move, but it’s not urgent – I’d appreciate your input if you can give it, sir.”

“I’ll head back to the command post,” Anakin replied, rolling his shoulder a little.

He had a pleasant burn in his muscles, and he’d done some really cool things so far today. Sure, he wasn’t a Master, and that was still a bit annoying, but it was a lot harder for it to feel annoying when he was helping out to save an entire planet!

Again.

And saving a planet full of wookiees was particularly good at making you feel like you were completely kickass and amazing. If they needed help, and you could give them that help, it was well worth it. Especially as a sign that the Council was willing to let him pick his assignments.

Then his comlink crackled again.

“...guiding light to big handful,” Obi-Wan’s voice said. “Guiding Light to Big Handful, over?”

“Master, it’s me,” Anakin replied.

“You’re supposed to say, Big Handful copies,” Obi-Wan pointed out, reproachfully. “Really, Anakin.”

“Sorry,” Anakin said. “You know it’s me, though. And I still think whoever picked that codename was being cruel. I wouldn’t have picked it for me.”

“Nobody picks their own codenames,” Obi-Wan replied. “It’s like nicknames. Anyway, Anakin – I’ve got some good news.”

“Oh, that’s… good?” Anakin replied. “Hang on, I think I remember, weren’t you on Utapau?”

“Yes, but that was a while ago,” Obi-Wan told him. “You must have missed the last update for the Council.”

Anakin felt a bit guilty about that, except that he had been in the middle of a lot of fights on Kashyyyk over the last few days. So he’d probably just ignored his comlink when it was ringing, because he’d been trying to cut a tank droid in half or fend off STAPs or make sure his crashing hoverspeeder crashed into the enemy without anyone on board. Instead of crashing into their own command centre while there were still two liaison wookiees on board.

It really had been an eventful few days.

“I probably did, Master,” he admitted. “So what’s been happening on Utapau?”

“I beat Grievous,” Obi-Wan said, just tossing it off there. “He was quite good, but not quite good enough. But before our battle I overheard him telling the Confederacy council to run away, heading to Mustafar.”

“Mustafar…” Anakin repeated, thinking. “That’s not all that far from here. I could probably head over-”

“Alas, you’re too late,” Obi-Wan replied. “The Open Circle fleet chased them to Mustafar. That’s actually what I’ve been doing, I led the assault on the mining facility they were holed up in twenty minutes ago. The whole CIS leadership has been captured.”

“Great!” Anakin said. “Does that mean we can bring an end to the war?”

“Not just yet, Anakin,” Obi-Wan apologized. “I’ve been interrogating the Trade Federation leadership, and Nute Gunray is quite clear that he’s been working for Darth Sidious for the last thirteen years at least – since before we met. Which is why I called you.”

Anakin was silent for a long moment.

“...I don’t get it,” he admitted.

“I captured their computers, Anakin,” Obi-Wan explained. “Including current comcodes to contact Darth Sidious. I’m hoping to get R2’s help in tracing them.”

“Yeah, he could do that,” Anakin replied. “Though…”

“Though what?” Obi-Wan asked.

“I’m just thinking about something the Chancellor said, once,” Anakin explained. “He said that, if Darth Sidious walked through the door he’d try and negotiate with him.”

He shrugged, not that Obi-Wan could see him. “Just a thought.”

“That might actually work,” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin stared at his comlink, not that Obi-Wan could see that earlier.

“It might?” he asked.

“Well, it’s a plan you came up with, Anakin, and I’ve had plenty of experience in how well those go,” Obi-Wan replied. “Which is to say… distressingly well.”

“Thanks,” Anakin said.

“It’s better than the alternative,” Obi-Wan replied. “Unfortunately, the codes seem to be secured to this computer. We can’t just send them to you or to the Chancellor.”

“That’s okay,” Anakin decided. “I’ll get back to the command centre and hook up R2-D2…”

“Chancellor, you must appreciate your position,” Mon Mothma said, reasonably. “Your arguments that we are still in a crisis situation are becoming increasingly threadbare; this is not, necessarily, a problem that is impossible to solve, but it is a problem that needs solving.”

“I hardly see how it would qualify as a problem, Senator,” the Chancellor replied.

“The war is coming to a conclusion, Chancellor,” Bail pointed out. “It is going to be time to transition back to normal governance at some point soon… that transition is going to go more easily, for you and for the Republic as a whole, if you are willing to make it rather than dragging it out.”

“I’m not sure what you are insinuating, Senator Organa,” Palpatine began.

“It’s not an insinuation,” Bail replied.

He shrugged. “It’s a statement of fact. Speaking purely from the point of view of securing public support, it is a matter of fact that the public responds better to someone who is willing to face an electoral challenge than someone who fends it off as best they can. If you continue to run the Republic in a crisis situation until the end of the war, then – speaking purely in terms of fact – that makes it far more likely that you will lose the subsequent election.”

Palpatine glowered.

“Assuming I accept your assessment,” he began. “What is your suggestion, then?”

“Abandon your emergency powers, or make a clear statement with a short timeframe as to when those powers will be abandoned,” Mon advised. “There are also issues relating to the courts, to be clear.”

“I don’t consider such issues to be issues at all,” Palpatine said, then there was a beeping sound.

He picked up the comlink from his desk.

“Yes?” he asked, then smiled. “Anakin, my boy! It’s good to hear from you. How have you been doing on Kashyyyk?”

“Is this… a bit impolite?” Bail murmured to Mon.

“Skywalker did call him,” Mon replied. “You know how the two are friends.”

“...that sounds marvellous,” Palaptine said. “Oh? ...yes, I remember. I’d be happy to negotiate with the CIS leadership… I’m sorry, who are you talking to?”

“And… there we go,” Static declared. “It’s using a priority override key, the only one in the system. You’ll show up as being Nute Gunray, since we know he had contact.”

“Excellent,” Obi-Wan replied, nodding to the expert. “Anakin?”

“Ready, Master,” Anakin replied. “I’ve got the Chancellor on the other call, I’ll put the comlinks next to one another.”

“Very good,” Obi-Wan said. “I’ll do the same.”

He triggered the system, and for a long moment nothing happened.

Then the call connected.

“Explain yourself, Nute,” came a sinister voice, and Obi-Wan shuddered.

Who would ever think such a man had their best interests at heart?

“I assume you are referring to Nute Gunray?” the Chancellor said. “I believe he is not available. However-”

“Begone, then,” Sidious snapped.

“Please, allow me to finish,” the Chancellor requested. “This war has been going on for too long already, and I believe there are grounds for a peaceful settlement.”

“A peaceful settlement?” Sidious asked, chuckling darkly. “What kind of peaceful settlement could you possibly be talking about?”

“Surely the conflict between the Jedi and the Sith has some basis in the past, but that was hundreds of years ago,” the Chancellor pointed out.

“The conflict between the Jedi and the Sith is quite recent,” Sidious replied. “The Sith have developed techniques which some would consider… unnatural… and the Jedi were opposed to them from the start. They wished to keep the secret of healing the very ill out of the hands of the galaxy… many of them won’t even know it themselves.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling to ward off his intense dislike for the Sith.

That was an obvious tissue of lies, phrased to manipulate and with a built-in reason why the listener might not have heard of it.

“There must be a basis for peace,” the Chancellor protested.

Sidious made an amused noise. “Very well, then, here is your proposal. The Jedi Order must be dismantled.”

“I will not accept that,” Palpatine replied. “Some Jedi are my personal friends. Anakin Skywalker, for example, is a hero.”

Sidious chuckled. “You’re not expecting me to change my mind based on that, are you?” he asked, sounding amused. “What if I revealed to you that the Jedi do not have your own best interests at heart?”

“I would be very much inclined to not believe you,” Palpatine said, with a sigh. “Your Confederacy has caused enormous bloodshed!”

“The Confederacy was never a Sith creation,” Sidious replied. “It was a creation of my apprentice, Count Dooku. But Count Dooku is not the Sith. What the Sith want – what I want – is to be free from the tyranny of the Jedi.”

His voice became silky and insinuating. “Haven’t the Jedi resisted your own influence? Prevented that hero you spoke of from achieving the rank of Master? What other reason could they have – they must be hiding something.”

Obi-Wan felt sick for a moment.

The way this Sith was speaking was almost calculated to get under Anakin’s skin, as well as that of the Chancellor.

“I… don’t think the Jedi Order is quite so corrupt as you suggest,” Palpatine replied, after a moment, which was almost worse than an agreement.

Did the Chancellor really think he could give orders to the Jedi?

“You know what it would take for a peace,” Sidious said. “It’s the only way to stop the bloodshed. The only way that the Sith would feel… comfortable… sharing our superior knowledge of the Force.”

Then the call ended, unceremoniously.

“...well, that could have gone better,” Anakin muttered.

“It was worth a try,” Obi-Wan said, though he privately agreed with Anakin.

Static and Sparkle were checking if they’d managed to track down Sidious during the conversation, and once they delivered their verdict Obi-Wan would check with Anakin to see if R2 had achieved anything. Maybe he’d even managed to send a virus.

At least Sidious had stayed on the line for a while.

Palpatine heaved an enormous sigh of relief, setting down the comlink he’d been using to talk to Anakin.

He very much hoped to never have to do something like that again.

Then a tiny sound made him look up.

Bail Organa and Mon Mothma were staring at him. And, in a shimmering blue hologram, so were about half of the Jedi Council.

“...what. The kriff. Was that?” Mace Windu asked, eventually.

“Ah…” Palpatine began. “...performance art?”

Nobody seemed very impressed by that answer.

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (22)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: E (Dirty talk, PIV) Words: 1.6k Summary: Make me immortal

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

They ain’t watching him near as close as they oughta.

It’s been four days of cross-country trekking, and by his count they couldn’t be more than another day or two from the Stateline. Any moment now they were liable to run into some patrol and while this bunch were treating him like a colleague it was anyone’s guess what Nero’s own crew might do.

His time was running out.

Unfortunately, they were keeping double watch now - one person always watching her and the other keeping a more general eye on things. It made taking them by surprise difficult, and they weren’t quite stupid enough to arm him.

Tonight was the first exception. They’d made camp in an old building that happened to have working doors. After a pretty thorough check they’d locked her inside, tied to some piece of the structure.

“I hear fellas like you can live a long time,” Sancho says after some time passes. His name weren’t Sancho but Cooper hadn’t been arsed to learn his name the first time around and he wasn’t starting now.

“Depends on what you think is long.”

“I heard of a guy who’s been alive since before the bombs fell,” Panza chimes in. Panza isn’t his favorite, he’s the one who hit her. He’s going to die soon - he just doesn’t know it yet.

“Ain’t no one been around that long,” Sancho scoffs.

Cooper barely pays them any attention, staring into the small fire. Well, past it actually, where the youngest of the three had disappeared not ten minutes ago.

It’s been dead silent since. He’s not sure he’d even be able to hear them talking, but he’s pretty sure he could hear her if she screamed. That door wouldn’t do jack shit to stop him if she did.

“You know we ain’t sharing the bounty, right?” Panza asks with a small frown. “Ain’t nothing against you, ghoul. Just that three’s two too many already if you ask me.”

Cooper cuts his eyes the man’s direction. “I ain’t looking for the bounty - hoping I might be able to find more work. Something to do. Getting bored out here with you shitheads.”

The man laughs just as Cooper intended. “Well that’ll be-”

The door slams open and the Kid stomps out, clutching the water and the small bag of rations. “She says she don’t want nothin’.”

“What do you mean… tell her she ain’t got a choice. She ain’t eaten since she tried to run off.”

“I tried that, but you said-”

Cooper’s on his feet already, seeing the opportunity and taking it. “I’ll do it.” The trio eye him skeptically and he cocks his head at them. “She trusts me. ‘Sides, this way you only got one thing to guard.”

None of them trusted him, which was fair, and he’d slept like a baby even as he listened to the racing heartbeat of whoever had been assigned watch the last few nights. He was counting on lack of sleep being a helluva persuader.

“Nah, you’re right. We’ll unlock you in the morning.”

Perfect.

Cooper waits for the door to close, adjusting his eyes to the dim light from above. The room is solid walls with a dirt floor, the only point of entrance the gaping hole in the ceiling and the woman tied to a post in its center.

“Brought you some vittles.”

“I said I wasn’t hungry.”

“You need to put some food in your system or you won’t make it to the Stateline.”

She looks up at him, eyes wide and sad and it’s a kick to the gut. “When will we get there?”

“Tomorrow, I reckon. Maybe the day after.”

She nods thoughtfully and rests her head on her folded arms once more. The ropes around her ankles shift slightly as she moves and he maneuvers carefully to sit beside her, leaning back against the same rock.

“If you plan to starve yourself to death you’re going to need more time.”

She laughs softly, “Not sure I even could. With how I heal and all.”

He considers that for a moment and passes her the water. After a long moment she takes it, gulping it down before handing it back. “Reckon tonight is our best chance to get free.”

“I don’t think-” she starts and he turns on her sharply. When he doesn’t say anything she continues, “I think I have to go, actually.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? After all this fuss you’re just going to give in?”

If looks could kill he’d be a pile of ash. “I have to put a stop to this - to more people like me and assholes like him buying them.”

“Ah,” he says softly. “So this is a vengeance mission.”

“You got a problem with that?”

“Not a bit, I’ve been on a fair few in my time.” He passes her some food and she eyes it before nibbling on the edge. “The problem is those kinds of journeys tend to be one way.” She shrugs and it makes something in his chest hurt. “Now darlin’, you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

“I’ll do what I have to,” she pauses, then gives him a sidelong glance, “anything I have to.” Suddenly she turns to him fully, those gorgeous eyes of hers shining in the moonlight. “You think we’ll get there tomorrow?”

“Or the next day, it ain’t far now.”

She nods, biting her lip. And then she’s in motion. Before he can think. Before he can block her. Before he can do anything - she’s in his lap, throwing her arms over his head, and she’s kissing him.

She’s kissing him.

Whatever the danger is, it’s too late now. He sinks into it, wrapping an arm around her waist and reaching one hand up to clutch at her shoulder. Her tongue is everywhere, licking along his lips and teeth and he meets her with equal fervor. It lasts so long he runs out of breath, breaking away with a gasp and staring into her eyes.

He waits.

Nothing happens.

No light-headedness. No burning. No neurotoxin or chemical or anything at all in fact. Hell, other than a raging hard-on he feels exactly the same.

She looks dazed, blinking up at him before pulling him back for another kiss.

He ain’t ever been one to tell a lady no.

He guides her legs over his hips, settling her in his lap while she tries to suck his soul out of his mouth. Everything is hot and wet and he can feel her through his pants, soaking the fabric.

“Ah sweetheart,” he groans, slipping his hand under her panties to cup her ass. She grinds down in return, rocking on top of him in a mimicry of exactly what he wants as well.

“Lift up,” he tells her, “let me get these off of you.”

She does as he says, coming to her knees and letting him pull her panties down til they hang on one ankle.

“Tell me you want this,” he growls, licking into her mouth. “Tell me to fuck you, just like this.”

“I want it,” she nearly sobs, fingers digging into the back of his neck, “Fuck me, fuck me just like this.”

They moan together when he slides inside. It’s just as he remembers, tight and hot and so unbelievably good his eyes roll back in his head. Her mouth is everywhere, sucking on his neck, licking up to his ear, teeth biting at his lips. He tries to slow her down, to guide her with a hand on the nape of her neck, but she digs her fingernails into the back of his head and he lets her take the lead.

Lets her take him.

Everything is gasping softness, breaths mingling as they pant into each other’s mouths. He brings his hand around to cup her jaw, urging her to take his tongue. To give hers in return. And the entire time she’s moving on top of him, clutching him inside her.

“Ah fuck darlin’,” he groans. “I ain’t gonna last. Can you come like this?”

“Maybe,” she gasps in return. “I don’t know.”

He moves his hands to her waist, guiding her body into slow undulating rolls. “What do you need?”

“Make me,” she moans, pulling him in for another kiss, “tell me what to do. Make me yours.”

A low growl rumbles from his chest and he shifts so he can get his knees under him. Now he has power behind his thrusts, fucking up into her and touching something so deep it makes her whimper. 

“That’s it, fuck yourself on me,” he tells her. “And when I tell you to you’re going to come. Ain’t that right?” She nods, mouth open on his cheek and he grins. “That’s a good girl.”

One hand claws at the front of her dress and she helps him, moving her arms so he can shove it down and watch her breasts bounce with every roll of his hips. He covers one with his hand, catching the nipple between two fingers and pinching it hard.

“Come for me, come all over my cock.”

She does. Oh how she does. She screams and he cuts her off with his mouth, swallowing it down and feeling her pussy milking him so hard he comes too. Spilling inside and filling her up just like he’d been thinking of doing since the first moment he saw her on that damned radio tower.

Only he had never imagined that she would kiss him so sweetly afterwards. That she would pull bound wrists from behind his neck and cup his face in her hands and fucking make love to his mouth with the gentlest of nibbles and sweeps of her tongue.

“Again?” she asks once she catches her breath. Her mouth covers his and he can barely think straight as she licks inside.

Yeah. Sure. Again. Anything she wants. Always.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[shadowdarlings]

Rain & Redemption II

Tamlin x Reader

Synopsis : The Lord of Spring has returned, with his nightingale in tow. While readapting to civilized life you and Tamlin face reality together.

part one

Pairings : TamlinxReader

a/n : so i am really digging the first part of this story and decided that i want to continue writing at 12:07am so i hope you enjoy this as much as i did <3

Warnings : slight angst (with comfort), mentions of trauma, suggestiveness, as always possessive tamlin (in a good way)

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Dinner with Tamlin was a drawn out affair. The deer he hunted down, no doubt in his beast form, had to be prepped and cooked. While he began dressing the fallen creature you took it upon yourself to begin sifting through the discarded and destroyed artifacts that littered the dining area. Although the manor had been shredded and abandoned, you couldn’t help but marvel at its refreshing beauty. Here there was light. Massive glass windows looked out to a rose garden that was surely once well manicured. The sun had already started its descent past the horizon but light still streamed in from every corner. The manor was everything that your home under that gods forsaken mountain wasn’t. The Hewn City was all darkness and stale air. You began sorting things into two piles. Items that were fairly unharmed were deemed “to keep”, others that had been completely torn apart were tossed into a discard pile. The two of you worked diligently in silence until he looked up from the deer and said, “You never told me your name.” You tore your gaze from the chipped vase in your hands and met his stare. “You never asked,” you began with a playful smugness, “but it’s Y/N.” Something unreadable flickered in his green eyes before a slight smirk cracked on his face. “Well, Y/N,” he said with a dramatic pause, “our dinner is ready to be cooked. How do you like your venison?”

You both agreed that without a working kitchen that a fire would be the best way to roast the deer. While he built a fire you toyed with an idea. “What if we preserved some of this beautiful bounty into something that will last beyond a night?” you asked him. Tamlin threw another piece of wood onto the makeshift fire and answered your question with his own. “As in a jerky? How do you mean?” That was exactly what you had meant. The future of your time in this manor and when you would next have a full meal was entirely uncertain. The topic had hardly been broached. “Unless you intend to spend the rest of your days hunting and building fires, it might be a prudent idea.” He looked you over before replying, “Smart, little bird. We’ll make two steaks for tonight and dry out the rest. It should preserve overnight and we can feast on jerky for weeks.” Satisfied with your quick thinking you helped him prepare the meat for roasting.

“What did you mean when you said you are not fit to be a ruler?” you asked after another bout of silence. Tamlin stilled his spinning of your dinner over the fire and his gaze shot to the flames between you. “I’m sorry,” you quickly said, “If I’m prying too much.” He did not look up from the inferno but said quietly, “I have abandoned my people and my post. Those who reside in the Spring Court put their faith in me. I have failed them again and again, in so many ways.” You blinked once at his brutal honesty before prodding further. “Will they not look to you once more? Surely there is a way to regain their trust.” His eyes moved from the fire to your own. They were filled with such sadness, such regret. “I would not know where to start, little nightingale.” You scoffed lightly as his response. “Well,” you began, “I think leaving those woods and coming home is already a start, wouldn’t you say? If you’re willing to return just to ensure the safety of a lone Night Court citizen, I can’t imagine what you might be willing to do for your people.” The sadness in his eyes faded ever so slightly as he said, “Since you’re so full of wisdom tonight, pray tell how might I continue this path of redemption?” You smiled at that.

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Tamlin was restless. Every time he started to fade away, sleep evaded him and he was jolted awake by poisoned memories. He had declared that he wanted to sleep outside the manor to stay alert for any looters or more dangerous creatures. He’d shifted into his beast form and taken post directly in front of the entrance just as night had overtaken the Spring Court. Truly, he was not sure if he was ready to sleep under this roof again. The two of you had talked for hours, discussing your histories and what the future of the Spring Court might look like. He’d escorted you to your room and bid you a gentlemanly goodnight, but your conversation replayed in his mind endlessly. A loose plan had been set in place to begin repairing his relations with those that depended on him. You had been so eager and determined while you both brainstormed ideas for making amends. He admired your tenacity yet was not fully convinced that this plan would work effectively. The thought made him queasy. His heart began a pace that tightened his chest and he was sure that if he’d been in his fae form that his palms would be sweaty. Tamlin shoved his anxieties down and recalled what you had told him about Rhysand, about how he’d condemned the entire Hewn City to a life of cruelty and rot. Although the idea of tomorrow sent him into an unending panic, he did not wish for you or any of his people to endure the same neglect for another moment.

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The morning light creeped in through the open window in your bedroom. It took a moment to recall everything that had happened, where you now were. The bedding had been dusty but a few shakes had it cleaner than before. You didn’t mind dirt, you’d spent a year lying on the forest floor. Waking up in a soft bed had become unfamiliar, but you relished the softness of the pillows and blankets before sitting to stretch your limbs. Moving to the armoire, you sifted through the clothing to find a pale green dress and a set of cream slippers. The outfit was plain but you didn’t particularly mind. Your mission for today did not require glittering attire. You fixed your hair into a loose braid and pulled two strands from the front to frame your face. After giving yourself a once over in the looking glass you deemed your appearance fit for the task at hand.

Tamlin was already dressed in a tunic and pants that were similar in style to the night before. You only gave yourself a moment to admire his wide shoulders before clearing your throat. He turned from his work on the piles you had created the night before and said “Good morning,” before he faltered. His eyes widened slightly and dragged up and down your figure. Meeting your gaze once more he choked out, “Well don’t we look the picture of Spring today?” You rolled your eyes at him and moved to take the picture frame from his hands. “We have a job to do, remember?” Tamlin huffed out a weak laugh before replying, “How could I ever forget?” He looked tired. You wondered if he slept as marvelously as you did. Considering that he spent the night on a set of marble stones you didn’t know how he possibly could.

The two of you moved outside to where the deer had been smoking overnight. Indeed it had preserved itself into a jerky that would remain edible for weeks. He started packing the strips into the wooden bin you had found in the kitchens when you said, “I have another idea.” He did not pause his movement or even look at you as he said, “Of course you do.” You pulled a basket from behind your back and waved it in front of his face to draw his attention. “I was thinking,” you began, “we should gather some flowers to take as well. These gardens are completely overrun. There are flowers and berries that need culling anyhow.” He straightened and assessed the gardens before the manor. “As you wish,” was all he said. Tamlin had been quieter than he was last night. You thought it best not to pry further and with his permission granted made your way into the thick of the garden and began collecting the fruits of spring.

When your basket was full and Tamlin had stored all of the dried meat you both began your trek to the nearest village. On horseback, he had told you, it would only take a half hour to reach your destination. After the fall of Spring his array of horses had all been stolen or set free by anonymous citizens. After two hours of walking the two of you were tired and parched. A nearby stream trickled with fresh water and you both drank deeply from its supply. “It’s just over that hill,” he said. The hike had been mostly silent. You were learning to enjoy quiet moments with the High Lord. It was almost as if you had a mutual understanding that the silence was not rude, but instead a peaceful reprieve. “No turning back now,” you said, standing from the stream and straightening your lightweight gown. He grunted in acknowledgment as you both continued your parade to the village.

The sight of the meager town was heartbreaking. Several houses and shops had fallen into rubble and the village center had looked as equally abandoned as the manor. Tamlin halted immediately, his breath quickening. Sensing his discomfort you moved to lace your fingers between his, squeezing tightly. The High Lord did not balk from your touch but instead gave a light squeeze back and continued his approach. The two of you reached a small home that had a plume of smoke rising from a stone chimney. A sign of life. Unlocking your hands you raised a fist and gave two sharp knocks to the wooden door. A few moments of shuffling and then the door swung open to reveal a gruff looking fae male. His eyes first landed on you, then travelled upwards to the towering Lord behind you. The male’s eyes widened with shock and reproach. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” he spat at you both. You calmed the annoyance that flowed through you and made your voice gentle as you said, “I- We come to offer a favor to you and your home.” The male looked down at your basket and the dried jerky Tamlin held in his hand. “We don’t need your charity,” the male responded, “we’ve been fairing well enough on our own, girl.” A sweet voice sounded from further into the house, “Mikah? Who is it?” A pretty looking female stepped into the light of the entrance and put her hand on Mikah’s arm. When she turned her gaze to the two of you her expression almost mirrored the males’. “Our High Lord and his… this girl have brought favors.” She looked down to the goods you had presented and back to Mikah. “I told them we were just fine,” he said with a hint of finality in his tone. The female scoffed at him and observed the two of you once more. “We are most certainly not,” she started. “Invite him and the girl inside.” With that she turned and strode back into the house. Mikah gave Tamlin an incredulous look but opened the door further for you to enter.

The female’s name was Cera, you had learned. She fussed over dishes and refreshments as she lamented about their struggles. The village had been ripe for naga attacks and most residents had decided to evacuate the area for fear of their families. “Mikah did not want to leave, of course. He spends most of his days hunting, although they are not always fruitful.” You and Tamlin listened carefully to her story. There were only a few families that had stayed after his disappearance. They all struggled. You glanced over at Tamlin and were met with a stern face. His jaw was set and his eyes were dark with despair. Underneath the modest wooden table you grasped his hand once more, turning your attention back to Cera. The four of you spoke for several hours. You and Tamlin expressed your willingness to help in any way you could with the naga and the rebuilding of the village. After exchanging the dried meats and gifts from your basket, the two of you made your way back to the front of their house. “Thank you for having us,” you said “It’s been a pleasure making your acquaintance.” Cera reached out to pick up your hands. She looked at you then at Tamlin, her eyes pricked with tears. “Thank you for coming back. We need you,” she said. He nodded his head towards her and straightened as he said, “I could not have done it alone. It will take all of us to rebuild. I am thankful for your time.”

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ .. ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ .. ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

Tamlin let out a heavy sigh when the two of you began your walk back to the manor. The day had been filled with conversations like the first he’d had with Mikah and Cera. The two of you had made your way to most of the families remaining in the village and presented your gifts as well as your pledges to restore their homes and lives. He was exhausted. Once the two of you had crested the hill overlooking the town he paused. You looked at him in curiosity. He was overwhelmed with emotions… gratitude, despair, grief, hopefulness, apprehension. Without thinking he grabbed your waist and pulled you close against his chest. He could hear your smooth, calming heartbeat. He breathed in your scent and closed his eyes. Only two days ago he had been more beast than man. Now he was walking on two legs and meeting with the people who had once trusted him. He felt your hands wrap around his middle as you nuzzled into him further. He could have stayed like this forever, but you pulled back looking up at him with those bright gorgeous eyes. “You did well today,” you said to him still in his grasp, “I’m proud of you.” Tamlin hadn’t heard such perfect words in a very long time.

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ .. ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ .. ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

Taglist : @lilah-asteria @booksnwriting @stained-glass-eyes0708 @anxious-cactus @thrumbolt @jesskidding3 @acotarxreader @nocasdatsgay @scorpioriesling

[fumifooms]

Did you notice that in the anime chilchuck blushes when he sees marcille in the red dress? I skimmed through the marchil crumbs master post and from what I saw you didn't mention it

Also its not from the ale since he wasn't blushing right before that

Ah yeah, don’t worry it’s because part 8 of the crumbs masterpost isn’t out yet, I’ve been lazy with it but it’s been overdue ever since the second half of season 2 started, and it does have a buncha stuff don’t you even worry lol my god… I just need to get out some stuff for it first ahh good times

On this though: I personally don’t give it much weight but it’s valid to read into it.

What we know:

Against: - Kui does make characters blush both when they’re drunk AND when they laugh. - Chil is confirmed drunk/tipsy in that scene because in the picture above his little mood chibi is drunk lol. - The point of the scene is that he laughs at her, the joke is that he laughs at her. If there’s subtext it’s still very much secondary and easy to miss and ‘besides the point’ anyways, buut does this subtext exist? Well…

For: - In the dating sim cover, the other option was "tell her she looks pretty". None of the choices seem outrageous for his character so it’s not random throwaway lines, though of course the reasoning behind it may be as simple as ‘it’s formality’. In the chapter cover, Marcille’s section is the one on top of every other one at center stage, which makes sense since it’s for bicorn chapter and bicorn chapter is THE Marcille & Chil chapter. In all of the choice dialogue bubbles on the cover, out of the 7 ones the hand is always over the choice he picks except for Marcille’s and Falin’s, indicating he might have hesitated. - Short of being a half-foot with a sultry face, Marcille is Chilchuck’s type. - The face he’s making in his little mood emoji in the dating sim picture lol? You may be drunk but pull yourself together omg - Chilchuck does deflect his more compromising feelings so this would be in character. Marcille is the only character he teases so much so often and it’s implied to be because he finds her reaction fun, full with shojo filter and sparkles all around her with his mind. Do with this what you will… Schoolboy pulling on the pigtails of the girl he like’s pigtails.

Neutral: - we don’t see the milisecond of realization on Chil’s face in the manga. - we don’t see his face after spitting out all his ale in the anime lol. - what could be "canon" in the manga may not be in the anime and vice versa.

Also whatever the hell this is. We all know not to give too much weight to VA’s takes but also what!! I always thought in the manga that Chilchuck wasn’t the one calling frogsuit Marcille cute so that was already a steel chair to me but lol the point of him saying that in the scene was still very much to follow through on the bait she took lmaoo. I don’t thiiink Chilchuck would think the frog suit genuinely makes Marcille look cute idk. Kigurumi enjoyer Chilchuck confirmed… And I feel like if this is true then Chilchuck wouldn’t have much problem giving her a casual compliment over her looks in the golden kingdom scene either. But also?!! 👁👁

Chil’s jp VA has also said that Marcille is cute (Marcille’s jp va said Chilchuck is cute too but that’s besides the point. 16:05 here). And got into some trouble for acting overly familiar with Marcille’s VA, somewhere in this haven’t looked myself yet. So there might be a whole unrelated thing there?? I’ll cover it more fully in the crumbs masterpost hopefully, after some more investigation. Gdbdg so yeah several layers of putting crumbs under magnifiers like they could be fake gemstones to appraise their authenticity and thus value

Stare. Play it cool.

I love it when he does this it’s so cute. Cheers, raising my cup to you

[yongility]

NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 5/?

genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.

warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.

word count: +10k?

a/n: IT'S YONGILITY COMEBACK!!!! Haha I'm sorry this took too long to post!! But I wasn’t feeling it y'know? I couldn’t write anyyyyything to my liking, I was like in a block mood:( but here it is. IM SORRY I gotta confess that it faces me the ick when I try to write smut HAHAHHA but some of you asked so i deliver 🙂‍↔️.

I'm sorry if this is too long TT, but this is kinda a slowburn? it might contain a lot of parts so wait for part 6! One of the reasons this is long af it's because I would like to show you how Jaehyun and (Y/ N's life is before they get together! So pls pls don't skip anything I hope you like it!

if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!

When the atmosphere had changed; when the music no longer thumped in their ears and the roar of the engines was left behind, the silence was torturous in the strange scene they found themselves in.

It was rare to see Jung Jaehyun, Wong Lucas, and Mark Lee in the same place these days.

It had been almost a year since they had last properly spoken to Mark, and that last time had not been very pleasant.

Lucas preferred to bury that memory deep in his mind, where he could almost forget it; however, Jaehyun remembered it vividly… he recalled shouting, hurtful words, and maybe even a fight…

And now, being there, in Lucas's house, face to face, felt almost like a dramatic scene. Lucas could feel the strong tension between the two boys in front of him; they had been at his house for quite a while but hadn't said a word since they arrived, and it was making him nervous.

“What do you know and how do you know it?” Jaehyun blurted out harshly, his arms crossed over his chest, staring intently at Mark.

Mark let out a sigh and swallowed slowly.

Jaehyun's gaze was never easy to hold.

Talking about the incident with Winwin and everything that had happened as a result was something that still moved him, and it was hard to find just the right words.

But he had to do it.

Jaehyun needed closure as much as he did.

“After our argument that day, I really needed answers. I couldn’t see what had happened and do nothing,” he began to explain. “The nights were endless for me, I went days without sleeping, the situation with Winwin really affected me… and that’s when I found Qian Kun. He… he’s from China, like Winwin. Right now, he’s not related to any gang, but… he knows a lot of people, here and there, he has a lot of contacts. He told me he would help me find out who sent those people to Winwin’s house.”

“In exchange for what?” Lucas questioned.

“Protection,” Mark answered curtly without looking at either of the two boys in front of him. “Kun fled the gang he was part of in China… he has no support from anyone. Kun knows a lot about many people in that gang, he was one of the youngest members to join. He knows everything about them and thinks they will come looking for him one day… if they aren’t already,” he explained.

Jaehyun kept his gaze fixed on him but now with a hint of confusion.

“Why would you trust someone who fled his gang? You didn’t even know him before, the guy just showed up and offered to find all this information for you?” Jaehyun asked incredulously. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like bullshit to me,” he said to Lucas. “How do we know he isn’t lying?”

“Why should we believe you?” Lucas now questioned.

“There would be no reason for me to lie about this,” Mark clarified while still under the questioning gazes of the boys in front of him. “Kun and I have common interests.”

“What’s Kun’s story?” Lucas asked. “Why did he leave his gang to come to SM City?”

“Is that really necessary?”

“I don’t trust someone who fled their gang,” Jaehyun responded.

Mark sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “People from his gang killed his girlfriend in front of him,” he said shortly.

Lucas and Jaehyun flinched at the thought of the sight Kun must have seen, and they both kept quiet.

“They thought she was a mole. That she was selling whatever type of information she heard from Kun to their rival gang,” Mark continued. “They shot her in front of him. No second thoughts. Nothing… He was going to propose the day after that.”

Jaehyun always knew that gang life came with a lot of risks. He knew there would always be fights, threats, and in the worst-case scenario… he knew death was just around the corner. He knew he was hurt from his friend's accident, but he couldn’t imagine the kind of pain this Kun guy had felt when his girlfriend was killed right in front of him.

To know that the person you loved most… with whom you were committed to building a life together, creating something new; vanished so quickly that you couldn’t even say goodbye. To have imagined a life with that person, only to have any beautiful illusion you created in such a horrible life taken away.

Not even the good moments could be enjoyed while they were part of Neo Zone.

“That’s why he fled,” Mark continued. “The night his girlfriend was killed, Kun left the city, he couldn’t even say goodbye to her. That’s why he knows they are looking for him, they think he’s also selling information,” he finished.

“So…” Lucas cleared his throat.

“So Kun understands what it felt like when I tried to find answers as to why, why they did that to Sicheng's family. And he decided to help me, in exchange for being able to take shelter in my house and for me to provide him protection.”

“That guy is staying at your house?” Jaehyun asked incredulously.

“It’s part of the deal,” Mark replied. “Look guys, what I’m about to tell you is crucial information… and I’m not here to tell you expecting us to do something about it. I just know that you need closure just as much as I did,” he commented as he approached them.

“I don’t need closure,” Jaehyun said. “I need to make them suffer the same way Winwin has been suffering for the past year”

“There’s no way to do that,” Mark assured. “And before anything, I… I really want to apologize to you. Especially to you, Jaehyun.” Mark turned his gaze to the mentioned boy and could notice the coldness in his eyes.

“You blamed me” Jaehyun said with a deep voice. “You put the blame on me” he repeated.

“I was angry, okay? And I know that doesn’t justify anything, but I was hurt and I didn’t what to do” Mark explained.

“So was I! Do you know how many times I couldn’t sleep thinking of your words? How they may be true? How many times I tried to imagine what would have happened if I stayed with Sicheng instead of going to make that delivery? When you put the blame on me, I blamed myself day and night. The three first months I couldn’t even go to see Winwin on the hospital without thinking that was my fault. I was so angry with you, with myself that u didn’t knew if I could kept going… and when I realized that it wasn’t my fault… I told myself that I would do anything to find who did it and that I have to do the same thing to them so they would know how Winwin is feeling every passing day.”

The frustration in Jaehyun's voice was noticeable. Lucas understood his friend; after all, he was the one who had accompanied him throughout that phase. On the day of Winwin's accident, Lucas had actually lost three friends. The first, in the hospital, left to the mercy of the universe; the second, Mark, who decided to take a different path; and the third, Jaehyun, who was never the same after the situation.

Jaehyun had always been a curt person, but when the quartet of friends got together, it was as if a different air hit Jaehyun. When the four of them were together, he could feel how he himself loved joking around with them, maybe forgetting a little about his life in Neo Zone and together imagining what life would be like if their reality weren't real.

But when Mark Lee decided to change his path after blaming him for Winwin's accident, it was as if he had lost the little spark he had within him.

“I know, that’s why I’m apologizing,” murmured Mark.

“Right now, your apologies make no difference,” Jaehyun confessed.

Mark remained silent and nodded slowly, taking a moment to think things through and how the next confession could turn the whole world upside down.

His eyes moved to Jaehyun's neck, where the gang tattoos were visible, then to Lucas's body, where the same tattoo was visible on his upper arm thanks to the sleeveless shirt he wore. After swallowing hard, he could feel the heat in his abdomen, where the same mark was.

It disgusted him.

It disgusted him to think that all this was something they could never erase, in some way, and that the memory of the gang would always be with them, imprinted on their skin with no chance of disappearing.

It was as if it burned his skin.

“I just want to let you know, that after I tell you everything I know, there’s no way you can take matters into your own hands,” Mark warned. “I needed closure, knowing what caused all this might help… and I think you deserve that closure too.”

“Get to the point,” Lucas demanded, crossing his arms.

“It was Sooman,” he blurted out without hesitation. Direct and clear.

Jaehyun might have misheard, “What did you say?”

“The person who caused all this was Sooman,” he repeated firmly.

“What are you talking about? You’re crazy,” Lucas muttered.

While Jaehyun remained silent and processed the words, the image of his boss lingered in his mind. He knew Sooman was capable of many things; he had seen them himself, but there was no way he would do something like that to Sicheng’s family.

Why would he do it? If Winwin’s father was one of his best men? Who offered him more loyalty?

Mark Lee’s words simply didn’t make sense.

“I thought I told you not to mess with this,” Jaehyun threatened through gritted teeth.

“I’m telling the truth!” Mark exclaimed. “It was hard for me to understand at first too, but after going over the matter many times, it made sense.”

“Sense?” Jaehyun asked. “It makes no sense. Sooman can be many things, but why would he do that to my Uncle Dong? He was one of his most loyal men; it would be foolish of him to do something like that.”

“It may be foolish, but for someone with the power Sooman has, it doesn’t matter,” Mark insisted. “And he has enough power to have hidden this for a year.”

“Let’s go,” Jaehyun said, giving Lucas a light pat on the back. “I’m not listening to this guy any longer.”

“No matter how much you try to deny it, this is the truth, Jaehyun.”

“But why would Sooman do something like that?” Lucas now intervened.

“It took me time to understand, but by finding all the threads, I was able to piece it together. This accident isn’t the only thing he’s been responsible for,” Mark explained. “Our Uncle Dong had planned to leave the gang; I don’t know if his plan was to try to get out through Sooman or just flee,” he said. Jaehyun and Lucas looked at him confused, and he continued. “Do you remember that time when we were gathered at Jaehyun’s house and Sicheng asked if, hypothetically speaking, he moved to China, would we make the effort to visit him?”

The two boys nodded.

“Winwin already knew about his father’s plans to leave SM City,” Mark clarified. “Sooman found out about this through Cheol Uk; he thought Uncle Dong was planning a betrayal. After all, he was one of his closest men and knew more information than any of us should know,” he paused. “That led him to where he is now.”

“But why would Uncle Dong want to return to China? He left there to work for Sooman here in SM City, he had a settled life and a high position in the gang,” Lucas questioned. “Why would he leave all that to go back to the place he initially sought to escape from?”

“Uncle Dong found out many things in the last few months before he died,” Mark explained, looking at Jaehyun. “He realized that at any moment, Sooman could do to him what he had done to others…” he paused, swallowing slightly.

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun inquired.

“When Sooman realizes that his best men might turn against him… he thinks it’s easier to just get rid of them,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Because that’s exactly what he did to your dad, Jaehyun.”

“What?”

That word got stuck in his throat. He could barely voice it. He wanted to understand and process what Mark had just said, but it was difficult.

It was difficult because just mentioning his dad, his mind clouded with memories of that night when his father died. He remembers seeing the blood spread all over the floor, remembers the sound of the gunshots deafening his body, and above all, remembers how much that situation changed his life.

The words didn’t process in his mind. He spent years trying to find out who had killed his father, but he took it for granted when Sooman said it had been Busan gang members.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Who did Mark Lee think he was to come with all this?

“You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up,” Jaehyun said with anger as he got closer to Mark and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“Fuck this shit, Yoonoh, I’m telling you the truth,” Mark spat. “You can’t be all defensive about this shit. What I know is the truth. You wanna know all these years who did that to your pops? Well, I’m telling you, it was fucking Sooman,” Mark said close to him.

Lucas tried to pull Jaehyun back by his shoulder but couldn’t do anything.

“Sooman was the one who ordered the shooting the night you were out with your dad. And if you’re wondering why? It was because he needed to get rid of your father before he gained more power than him… that’s why he took you under his wing… because he knew he could manipulate you and make you work his way… something he couldn’t do with your dad anymore,” Mark said as he felt Jaehyun’s grip loosen on his neck until he could take a few steps back. “Something he couldn’t do with Uncle Dong either.”

Jaehyun looked him directly in the face, and his whole body shivered.

“The night of Winwin’s accident, he wasn’t supposed to be there. The attack was only meant for Uncle Dong… Sooman wanted to do to Winwin the same thing he did to you,” he explained. “That’s why in the first months of treatment, he was supporting us… he wanted to clear his name and not have us suspect him.”

Jaehyun and Lucas remained silent for a minute, then Jaehyun moved furiously and tried to leave the place.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he said through gritted teeth as he tried to head for the door, but Lucas and Mark stopped him.

“I told you I wasn’t going to tell you all this for you to do something stupid,” Mark said. “What will you do? Try to kill him? As soon as you do, they’ll put a bullet in your head.”

“I don’t give a shit; I want them to suffer the same way Winwin has suffered… the same way my father suffered,” Jaehyun explained, feeling a lump in his throat.

He couldn’t allow himself to be weak.

Not when he had discovered what he had been wanting to know for so long.

“Trying to take revenge won’t change things; if anything, it will make them worse,” Lucas said after a while.

“You couldn’t get close to Sooman even if you wanted to; you know you can’t bring him down. It’s you against a hundred other people in the gang,” Mark continued. “You wouldn’t get out alive even if you begged all the saints.”

“Why would you tell me all of this if I couldn’t do shit about it?” Jaehyun asked, breathing deeply.

“Because I know you needed answers… the same way I did,” Mark replied. “Jaehyun, I know my word doesn’t mean anything to you, but please don’t fuck it up,” he asked. “I know you’re a smart guy. Be smart and don’t get in trouble. You got your answers now, be wise with your decisions.”

The boy remained silent and looked at the whole room in front of him.

His head was going to explode if he didn't get out of there immediately. Everything was spinning, as if the moment of realization was eating him alive. He had waited for this for months, but now that he knew everything... what would change?

Now he only wanted to know the best way to take matters into his own hands.

He needed divine justice.

It was as if it were his only goal right now.

Maybe remembering the moment he had lived hours earlier with Winwin finally having a reaction was what made him think more and more about the situation.

But making a rash decision right now would be putting his life on the line.

How much did he value his life to do it?

_______________________________________________

The clock was perhaps about to strike 1:00 am. She wasn't sure. She had stopped checking the time maybe a while ago.

Her mind couldn't stop spinning around the same issue over and over again.

The issue being none other than Jaehyun.

Lying on her bed in the silence of her room, (Y/N) could hear the beats of her heart resonating in her ears.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She had called Jaehyun maybe fifty times by now, but her phone lay silent on her nightstand.

She wanted to understand everything. She wanted to understand Jaehyun.

But it was so difficult.

Her mind couldn't process all the events and emotions that had happened in just one day... from experiencing Winwin's reaction at the rehabilitation center, to feeling ecstatic in Jaehyun's company, only to have it all fall apart with Mark Lee's arrival.

She wanted to understand but couldn't.

What was it that Mark wanted to talk to Jaehyun about?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Perhaps her heartbeats were drowned out by the knocks on her window because she could barely react when she saw a silhouette outside.

How could Jaehyun dare to do that?

When she could finally react, her body leaped a mile a second from her bed, and when she opened the window, she could see how agitated the boy was, and without thinking twice, she threw herself against him to support him against her chest.

Jaehyun said nothing, just placed his weight on the girl's body.

He knew he had lost when seeking her comfort was necessary to get through this night.

He knew he had lost when he couldn't even finish breaking free from her embrace.

Jaehyun's head would surely explode at any moment. His whole day had been an emotional rollercoaster, everything that had happened was piling up more and more in his mind, but he didn't want to break. He couldn't allow himself to.

One minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes.

Perhaps more time had passed while they were in that position, but even though she quite liked the moment, (Y/N) had to end it.

"Come in before someone notices you're here," she murmured, pulling him inside the room.

"Are your parents home?" the boy asked quietly.

"Not yet. They went out for a 'business dinner,' but my dad's guards are still lurking around," she explained, leading him to her bed. After a few minutes of silence, she continued. "Why are you here? What happened with Mark?" she asked quietly.

Without a single word, (Y/N) could see how broken Jaehyun was at that moment.

He didn't even look her in the eyes, his hands barely able to caress hers, and his shoulders were tense.

It was strange to see him like that, and it made her want to know what had happened.

"Right now, you're the only one who can keep me on track," Jaehyun murmured.

(Y/N) swore her heart could break right then and there.

"Jaehyun? What are you talking about? What happened?" she asked, trying to catch his gaze but failing.

Jaehyun sighed. "I really don't want to think about it right now. I don't want to overthink it any more than I already have. I need to block all that out for a moment."

"Jaehyun..." the girl murmured. "I want to understand you."

"Please, not now."

Why was she able to bring out all his vulnerability?

And she didn't even notice when a tear fell onto her hand.

He couldn't cry. Not right now. Not in front of her.

"Jaehyun..."

"Let's not talk about it now," he murmured, placing his hand on the girl's jaw and pressing his lips to hers. "I need to forget."

He didn't know how he got to this point, but he could taste the cherry flavor of the girl's chapstick, mixed with the salty taste of the tear that had run down to his lips.

He didn't even know when the kiss had turned into an unbridled one.

He needed to free himself.

He needed to forget everything.

The girl melted into the kiss. It felt like being in the clouds, feeling Jaehyun's long hands partially caressing her body. Now, she felt familiar with Jaehyun's lips and felt safe with him.

And it felt good to see a different side of Jung Jaehyun's reality.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

(Y/N) felt euphoric when Jaehyun put his hands on her waist and helped her settle into his lap. Her body felt warm; she was sure her cheeks were red, and she believed the color would turn even redder when she let out a small moan feeling Jaehyun underneath her.

She felt a smile on her lips, and then Jaehyun's kisses moved to her neck.

"I don't know how you manage to distract me from anything out there," she said about her neck.

"Jae," she moaned slightly.

"You're gonna make me lose my shit," he said in her lips.

Jaehyun's lips moved to the girl's neck to gently stroke the area, his hands on her waist made the grip deeper and brought her even closer to him. Making her moan again.

"My parents could arrive at any moment," she said, with her head back and her eyes closed. Passing her hands through Jaehyun's hair and playing with it.

Jaehyun removed his lips from the girl's neck and turned to look at her with a loving smile.

"Tell me to stop right now if you want to," he asked with a dazed look while returning his kisses to the girl's neck, leaving them marked there.

The girl tightened her hands on the boy's hair and moaned.

"I need to hear it from your words, beautiful baby," Jaehyun asked.

(Y/N) moved her hands to Jaehyun's jaw and pulled him closer to give him a chaste kiss.

She shook her head and smiled. "I don't want you to stop now or ever," she assured him.

Jaehyun moved his hand to the girl's leg and maneuvered her position until she lay on her back on the bed, with Jaehyun over her and caressing every part of her body.

The pajama shirt that was placed over her torso disappeared after a few seconds, and the words got stuck in her mouth when Jaehyun gently touched her breasts.

She couldn't think of anything other than the man in front of her.

Doing everything. Touching everything. Loving everything.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Jae~ please~" she asked between moans.

"Please, what baby?"

"Please touch me. Anywhere. Just don't stop" she said.

Jaehyun smiled slightly, taking her little short off and leaving her all exposed to Jaehyun's mercy.

A breathy moan escaped her lips when his digits started to make their way towards her sensitive bundle of nerves. (Y/N) whined when he put more pressure in the spot, making her buck her hips towards him, provoking a smile in Jaehyun's face.

And it was then when he coated his middle and index finger with his saliva and slows inserted his fingers into her. She gasped at the stretch and her hands went to take a grab on her sheets not being able to word something out thanks to the incoherent moans she was letting out.

"Yeah baby, keep moaning like that" he asked dumbfounded.

He pulled (Y/N) into a heated kiss while he kept finger-fucked her, keeping his rhythm making her even wetter as every thrust from his fingers was made.

She could swear she could see stars just by the way his fingers entered her every passing second. She is unable to voice a praise for Jaehyun, but she thinks he doesn't care, because it looks like he prefers moans and whines.

"You look to fucked out and it's just been my fingers" he said kissing her neck and then going straight for her breasts.

She tried to adjust her legs more so he can have more accessibility to her entrance and that gives him the green light to keep with everything. So his pace became faster and harder. His fingers were coming in and out reaching a sensitive spot inside of her. Sensitive enough to be close to cumming.

"Fuck, Jae... 's getting too much" she said bucking her hips towards his fingers and the hand that Jaehyun had free was in her abdomen trying to pin her to the bed.

A strangled moan escaped her mouth and the knot in her stomach was getting tighter.

She can barely see the smile Jaehyun had in his face, but when she was so close to cum, he took out his fingers, to lick all of her arousal up and then kissing her.

"You're so pretty" he worded. "Even so dumbfucked like this" he clean the sweat in her forehead while smiling. "I'm gonna make you feel so good"

"Yes, Jae?" She smiled. "Gonna make me feel good?"

"So good baby, you won't be able to word something out"

The heat of the night was making her feel like she was in cloud nine. So that's why her hands sneakily found the waistband of his jeans; tugging the material of the way trying to get a hold of his dick but Jaehyun stopped her grabbing her hand and taking matters in his own hands and taking his jeans off along with his underwear releasing his throbbing cock. (Y/N) hands went straight to palm his dick and draw a line in one of the prominent veins that were situated in his hardness.

"Baby, could you spread those pretty legs for me?" (Y/N) did as she was told so and spread her legs just for Jaehyun be able to position between them. She liked how Jaehyun could be so vocal while she just was a mess under him, Jaehyun dick twitched just at he sight of her being so ready to have him, looking all pretty underneath him and then he didn't waste any more time as he took his cock in his hand to line up his tip in her dripping cunt.

They both let out moans as he pushed forward until she was filled up. His eyes were looking right to the middle of both of them, watching greedy the way his dick disappeared into her entrance. Just as it was made for him to fill up.

"God, Jaehyun...i feel so full" she whined as she rolled her eyes and started letting out messy moans.

"Y'a feel me in there, pretty girl?" He asked as he put his hand on her stomach seeing the bulk that was there.

"Yes Jae! You're so deep"

Hearing that was enough to Jaehyun to lose his mind and pulled his hips back, dragging so slowly his tip along her sensitive walls and then smack his hips, burying his entire girth inside of her cunt with a messy moan.

His pace was like that the next minutes. Reporting his motion over and over again, leaving some kisses here and there while he got a grip in her hips trying to keep her in place when he slammed his cock so deep in her.

Jaehyun was just too pussydrunk that he had to start pound into her sopping cunt to keep him sane. "Gonna fill you up. So hard. You'll only think of me the rest of your life"

"Fuck yes. Want that, want that so bad"

She didn't think Jaehyun could go harder, but she was wrong, because the moment she mouthed that word out, the pace of his hips were insane, slamming so good all the way up to her cervix making her let the most filthiest moans he could ever hear. He reached out her clit with one of her hands and started to play with it to make her cum.

She didn't know how she could last this longer but it was enough when Jaehyun slammed into an specific point that she just lost it. She let out a strangled moan and she gripped his shoulders as her life dependent on it. She saw white flashed light the moment she came, feeling all of her arousal coat Jaehyun's coat as he fucked her drip into her. A couple of thrust more were enough for Jaehyun to release his seed into her, letting a grunt out and steady himself.

"You did such a great job baby" he whispered as he moved himself to lay beside her and embrace her in his arms. He looked to her sleepy eyes and wiped some of her sweat out of her forehead to then let a small kis in there. "Such a pretty baby"

Being too worked out to speak, she rested her head into his chest to fall asleep in his embrace, feeling the sweet kisses Jaehyun was leaving in her head and zoning out.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Possibly now the clock was approaching 4:00 am. Jaehyun hadn't been able to sleep at all.

After the euphoria had subsided from his body... The events of the previous day returned to terrorize his mind.

He lightly caressed (Y/N)'s shoulder as his head spun. What could he do? What would he do? Even with the faint light entering through the window of the room, he could observe the space around him; he swore that the girl's room was three times larger than his own living room. He wanted to take a look around at his surroundings and noticed that everything there was much more expensive than he could ever afford.

The room's atmosphere was far more than he was used to.

Much more than he could fit into.

Realizing all of this in such a short time was like a slap in the face to himself.

Because he never deserved (Y/N), no matter how much he wanted to.

And he didn't want to drag another person into a hole they couldn't escape from.

Mark's words echoed in his head, and Qian Kun's story ended up burning him... Because if he continued with all this... would (Y/N) end up like Kun's girlfriend? Like his father? Like Winwin?

Just thinking about it made him feel an overwhelming urge to vomit.

But what an unjust life.

Didn't he even have the right to love?

Jaehyun couldn't hide his past and erase his present. If he wanted to do it, he had to face it, but... How could he confront Sooman if he couldn't come out of it alive?

How could he say goodbye to what was embracing him right now?

But if he wanted the justice he needed... He had to do it, even if it cost him something precious, he had to do it.

Even so, there was no way he could fulfill anything that (Y/N) wanted.

They didn't live in the same reality, and it wouldn't end well for either of them.

So, giving one last look at the sleeping girl beside him, he managed to get out of bed and gather his things to dress as quietly as possible... walk towards the window and see her one last time before fleeing from there.

No explanation. No farewell.

Not knowing if it was the last time they would meet in life.

And he regretted it so much.

a/n: I hope you liked even though in took me weeeeeeks to post hahaha, love y’all! NOT PROOFREAD!

taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)

taglist: @spicyryujin @daegalismybiasinnct @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholovespreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae @beomgyusonlywife @bts-iris @doejaejung @methneo @kriizztin @mrsuhnshine @pieddpiperr (idk why some of the tags just doesn’t work out! 😔)

If you want to ask me something, feel free to send them here!

[bartonbones]

short little ficlet that i want to post before s3 takes this scene away from me: in which sugar finds out she's having a girl, which is the worst thing she can imagine being

"Don't tell Pete," she says. “Right?” 

Carmy stares up at her, unblinking, slightly ashamed, as if it's embarrassing to him that he doesn't immediately understand what she means. It’s like—Mikey would. Or no, it’s like, he really wouldn’t. But he’d know what Carmy meant. And that’s a failure from both of them—this deep, secret understanding between the Berzatto children that sometimes managed to stop just shy of Natalie.

"That you're having a girl?" he says, pressing his eyebrows together. "He doesn't know?"

"It's supposed to be a surprise," Sugar says, flashing all her teeth in an unconvincing mimicry of parental glee. "We're supposed to find out together, when she's born, but I couldn't—"

Carmy waits for her to finish. Doesn't guess her next words, partly because he hates when people do that to him and partly because there's no universe in which he can possibly imagine what they might be. It’s past the point of Sugar being left out of jokes and face-to-face with the cliff of being left out of Sugar’s experience entirely. Mikey wouldn’t get this, either, but, fuck, would anyone? Tina, maybe. Richie, even. Anyone except him, probably. But he wants to try, so he waits, patient, while Sugar looks at the ceiling with red, puffy eyes and opens her mouth without making any sound. 

“I couldn’t stop picturing his face,” she says. “Like, if it was a girl, he’d just—it’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to him and he’ll look at me and it’s supposed to be the best thing that’s ever happened to me but I just—fuck!” 

Sugar smashes her palm against the table, surprisingly violent. It startles Carmy enough that he flinches back, a little, and worries him enough that he starts to reach out, to grab her hand, this battle between instinct and fear, old and gruesome, that strikes up whenever someone’s upset. 

She doesn’t take it. Brings her palm flat up to her face instead and scrubs away her tears, angry.

“I’m already so fucking bad at it,” she says. “I’m not supposed to feel like this.” 

“I think however you feel,” Carmy says, quietly. “Is, you know—okay.” 

“Thanks, Carm,” Sugar says, in the tone she gets when he’s said something particularly useless, usually something about money or taxes or anything involving numbers or spelling or high school science. 

She’s quiet for a second. Carmy clears his throat, flexes his hand that’s no longer holding hers. Even quieter, he says: 

“How do you feel?” 

"I wanted a boy," she says, laughing. "Is that fucking awful?"

Sugar laughs more, worse, looks at him and then the ceiling again and then at her hands, worrying at her silicone wedding band, her bracelet, her hangnails. Suddenly she shifts—away from him, enough that he feels it, tilts his head. She doesn’t look back at him and when she speaks, her voice is small and almost shameful. 

“I wanted a boy, and I wanted to name him Michael."

“Oh,” says Carmy. He hadn’t expected it to hurt so much when she said it—it wasn’t like it wasn’t on his mind, on the table, like everyone didn’t halfway expect it. They’re Italian. Names had always been dead things, ever since the first sorry motherfucker got martyred and printed up on the inaugural Holy Card. It’s just different when she says it like that. It’s just worse than he thought it would be. 

But Sugar continues. 

“But it’s shitty, Carm. I’m being shitty.” 

“You’re not,” he says, finding it harder and harder to find his voice. “Nat, you’re not.” 

“I am,” she says, voice thick. “I am because—it’s not like—I didn’t want to name a baby Michael for Mikey, I wanted—I just wanted Mom to—and I thought, because I’m just fucking—stupid, I guess, I thought that—maybe Mom would like them more, you know? Maybe it’d give them this chance that I guess I thought—I felt like I didn’t have.” 

They’d never fought about this before. It’s weird that that is the first thought that Carmy has, but it is—they’d never argued, all three of them in a room, who Mom was the worst to. Mikey never said: before you two were born, or, as the oldest son. Carmy never said: when I was alone with her, or after you both left, and she started drinking more. And Sugar never, ever, as long as Carmy could remember, said: she’s never that mean to you. 

But she could have. And they’d all known it, so maybe it was why they didn’t fight about it when they were younger, when the rage and sorrow tumbled down from Mom to Mikey to Nat to Carmy, and they were all fighting about something—they always knew there was nothing to fight about. At least, not one they would win.

“Nat,” Carmy says. “Jesus.” 

“I know,” she says. “It’s so awful.” 

Carmy presses his lips together. Shakes his head. 

“It’s awful that she made you feel that way,” he says. “It’s not awful that you feel it.” 

“I can’t stand it,” she says. “I won’t be able to handle it if Mom looks at her the way she used to look at me.” 

Carmy opens his mouth. False promises threaten to tumble out of it—that Mom wouldn’t look at her like that, that Mom might never have to meet her. Things he doesn’t have any place to say, especially when he knows they’re probably not true. But he does know one thing: has maybe always known it. 

“But it’ll be different, Nat,” he says. “She’ll have someone who loves her—just, so fucking much. And so fucking well. And it won’t matter that Mom’s being fucking crazy, okay? It won’t matter to her. ‘Cause she’ll have you.” 

“You don’t know that,” she says. “I’m sorry, Carmy, but you have no idea—” 

“I do,” Carmy says. 

“Carmen—”

“Natalie,” he says, serious and sharp and accented in the way he only sounds when he’s home, when he’s with Nat and Richie and he’s laughing or screaming or otherwise unfiltered. “Natalie, look at me. I do know.” 

She does. It’s wet and open and her face looks so terribly sad that Carmy feels probably the worst he’s ever fucking felt since the last time she cried like this. His face burns and his eyes sting and he looks at her anyway, through all of the awfulness, just to see his sister as the same person he used to look at five, ten, twenty fucking years ago. 

“I know, okay?” he says. He reaches out, wraps his palms around her forearms and locks eyes with her. “I know, because I had you. I had you and I was so fucking lucky to, and it was enough. I don’t—I don’t reach out to Mom because I don’t need to. She won’t, either.” 

Suddenly she looks so young. Her face swells and breaks, falls into something soft and hopeful and grief-stricken. She was so young, Carmy forgets that, and now thinks about how much everyone babied him and how no one ever babied her, and how she would’ve only been nine when he was born, learning to make bottles and how to do long division in the same week. 

“I never thanked you for that,” he says. “You or Mikey.” 

“For what?” she says, thick. It’s obvious what the answer is, but even more obvious that she needs him to say it, so he does. 

“For raising me,” he says. He nods, licks his lips, sniffs what he is somehow surprised to find are tears. “You’re going to do such a good job, Nat. You already did.” 

“Okay,” she says. She the heels of her hands into her knees, nods her head. “You turned out okay, right?”

She sounds uncertain about this. Carmy has never been good at convincing anyone of that fact except himself, so he just shrugs, watery and helpless. 

“I don’t think anything about me that’s fucked up is your fault,” he says. 

“Alright,” she says, sounding uncertain. She sniffs, doesn’t stop looking at him like she’s scanning him for the things she couldn’t fix, until she’s pressing her hand against his face and running her fingers through his hair. He bends his head, lets her, in a way he maybe hasn’t done for a decade. “God, I just want you to be okay, you know that, right?” 

“Would you believe it if I said that I feel that way about you, too?” 

Sugar tilts her head, considering, still with her hand on his face. 

“I think so,” she whispers, thick. “I love you, Bear.” 

Carmy nods. It’s not something she has ever needed to say. 

“Pete’s going to go fucking crazy when he finds out,” he says. “There’s not going to be a pink blanket left in the tristate area.” 

Sugar laughs, but this time it's an uncomplicated, joyful one. It is suddenly the only sound in the entire universe worth hearing. He’ll need to do this a thousand more times to ever make up for half of what she’s done for him—and he’s decided, right now, to try anyway.

“I love you too, Nat.” 

[britneyshakespeare]

i have been working with kids for four years and i had to write my first ever note just now about a seventh grade boy being inappropriate towards me. i don't know what the hell this could possibly lead to or what. he was trying to feel my legs repeatedly to the point where i had to stop sitting next to him (and i was subbing for his one-to-one para!!!). he's got high support needs. in that kind of job, you're supposed to sit next to them all day and look over their work.

the teacher whose classroom this was happening in could also tell something was wrong. the whole class was acting kinda crazy because it was the day before school vacation week and there was another class coming in to share projects. so like, he was swamped with keeping order already. but we were sitting two feet away from his podium at the front of the room. the kid was giving him and me a hard time when he wouldn't take out his chromebook as he was instructed. and then when he did take out his chromebook, he immediately, for some reason, places it on my lap. he had been ogling my legs the whole time. he puts his computer ON MY LAP. and i'm just like, stunned, because what the hell? can you not keep it on your own lap, for some reason? i don't even know what to say, i just hold it a little above my lap while i'm thinking why on earth would this be happening? he would NOT do this to his regular para if she were here, would he? this can't be normal.

and the teacher sees this and within a minute places a stool in front of the kid for him to put his laptop on. and i'm like. oh ok. yeah. he notices exactly what's happening and that that's not appropriate. and then when the other class comes in to share projects he tells me "miss b——, you don't actually have to sit next to c—— this whole period if you don't want to." and he grabs me a chair for me to go sit with the other paras in the back opposite corner of the room. like he KNEW. and thank you mr. d—— for recognizing that because i was just kind of shocked and didn't know if i was overreacting in my head to all of this.

when there's a point in the class where the kids are discussing stuff, i privately mention what's happened to the para who's sitting closest to me. and she says that the thing about him calling me pretty is something he's been known to do, but the fact that he kept trying to touch my legs is new behavior. and that's a completely different class of behavior. i was telling him NO, don't do that, and he kept doing it. and the fact that he was calling me pretty repeatedly, even when i was giving him instructions that he wasn't taking. and this is the second to last class before the end of the day, so she says she'll take a walk with him before learning center and talk to him about it, and i'm grateful for that. she does. the kid apologizes to me as soon as i come into learning center. but like. WHAT the hell.

i'm STILL like what the hell. this is unfathomable to me. the other adults who i told about this or who witnessed it were supportive of me. but. what to do??? i wrote a long note to his regular para about this, because i knew she was going to hear about it at least from the first para i told. the second para i told about it after school had a kind of... i'm not gonna say enabling reaction, but i suppose since it had already been "taken care of" (or at least, he had been spoken to and apologized) she didn't really have much to add in the way of discipline. i told her what happened after school and she was just like... a little bit, laughing? like oh, yup, that dog. she at the very least confirmed he KNEW what he was doing, that that was not an accident. she said to me "i had a feeling he was going to develop a crush on you" (me and these other paras were together for most of the beginning of the day too). but it's like. it's not about that.

i have worked with children for FOUR years. children have had crushes on me before; i'm quite unfazed by it. boys from the ages of 5-to-15 have told me i'm so pretty before and asked me to marry them. i've never had them feeling up my legs before. i've never had them making me physically uncomfortable. it's NOT about this seventh grader having a crush on the pretty substitute. he is NOT unusual for that, at all. but i've never had a boy of any age or education level repeatedly touching my knees and thighs. THAT is problem behavior!!!

because what if i wasn't assertive enough with him to tell him to stop? what if i was a girl his age? worse, what if i was an adult who encouraged this behavior? i don't come to the middle school to be a seductress. i had no intention in putting on a pair of tights and a skirt this morning of being viewed as an attractive object, especially not by a pubescent boy. what if i did though? what if his interpretation of me wasn't so incorrect and offensive? what if i let him keep touching me inappropriately and saying flirtatious things to me? me, an adult in my mid-twenties, towards a middle school boy?

in no world would that be ok. if i had been feeling up and overly-complimenting a CHILD at my place of work, holy shit would there be reports about me. so a child acting that way could never be ok either. if it'd be firable for me to be reciprocating that action, then that action should not be happening to me. ever. and that child should never repeat that action again to any other adult again.

like i am simply not there to be treated as an attractive young woman. i put on a skirt that shows too much knee and get paired with a boy, though, and that's apparently just a natural consequence. hooo-ly shit. like i don't know what to do. first of all, the more time passes since this has happened, the more i am just unable to stop thinking about it. i wasn't "hurt" or too emotional in the moment but i'm just still processing it and it gets worse. i'm just more and more disgusted.

i don't know what i expect to come out of this, or the email i sent to his regular para. like, am i gonna have to attend a fucking meeting? what is the precedent that this sets for him? WHY do i feel BAD for him about this? well, because he's a child, of course. a child who has done wrong he may not be able to understand. but he knows WHAT he did. he just doesn't know WHY it was wrong.

and i couldn't even say something to him that was like, "well, how would you like it if i was touching you like this?" because young boys do not understand how inappropriate it'd be. i'm sure this kid thought he was gonna get away with what he was doing at the very least. but probably not unlikely he (being a child with no concept of how wrong it'd be) thought he could get some sort of "positive" attention for treating me like this. either way he was simply doing what he wanted to do, with no perspective of how it would make me feel or that it could be classified as harassment. teenage boys think it'd be awesome if the older attractive woman would reciprocate their affections. they're wrong. i, as the older attractive woman of his affection, cannot be the one to convince him of that, though.

i don't know. i don't know. like it's just so not ok. but if i didn't tell another adult about this, he would've gotten away with it. he would probably do it again. and him being in trouble for it is not the same as him understanding that it was wrong. unless someone has a REAL talk with him about inappropriate attention and consent, it's not unlikely that he'll just repeat the behavior in a setting where he thinks he won't be caught or told on. THAT'S the problem. me, i could just never have to be this boy's para again. in my email, i didn't say that i would never be ok working with or around him ever again. he already knows i didn't like it and i'm not afraid to tell on him; as far as that lesson applies to me, individually, i think he's become too ashamed to repeat that.

i don't know. i don't know. i very much expressed that i, i guess, "forgave" him in the email that i wrote. i clarified that i was writing it for the sake of having it on the record. i think that could potentially be very important for the purposes of preventing further similar or escalating behavior from him in the future. i don't want him to be in trouble. i don't think i will be blamed for this, especially not with how promptly i acted, although i don't know to what extent this will be framed as me thinking i'm a "victim." i'm not... i don't feel victimized. i feel disgusted. i feel afraid for the sake of what could happen to or with him in the future, if he thinks behavior like his towards me today is ok.

i feel like if i end up having to further respond to this, this will be made about me. in a way it kind of was. is? in the moment it was happening, it was certainly about me. because i was the one this boy was giving all this unwanted attention to. but to make the consequences of this about me and to involve me any further, i also don't want. because i said what i said already, i don't care if a student has a crush on me. this isn't about me being the pretty substitute. i'm the pretty substitute all the time, to tons of people. that's not really something i've been concerned about up until now.

but do i have to reexplain my personal embarrassment? that i was wearing a skirt? that he was ogling my legs? really? what more do i have to gain from sharing that, other than having the adults at my place of work confirm or deny me in their heads as the pretty substitute? i don't know. perhaps that's REALLY overthinking it. but i don't want to be the substitute that caused a problem for this special ed kid. i don't wanna be the reason that he can't be around me anymore, the person people think of when they're monitoring how he's acting around girls and young women. i DON'T want to be the one people think of when they think of his past misbehavior. i'm NOT here for that.

that's just fucking humiliating. and in this being a thing that could follow him, i have to be ogled and touched over and over again in people's minds for this to be taken seriously. but for this to be swept under the rug would be even worse, no? i don't know. i hate this. the principal is a nice guy; i wouldn't be surprised if he and/or people from the special ed department reached out to me sympathetically about this. but i don't wanna be reached out to. i don't wanna have ppl i work with tell me "sorry that kid was just so attracted to you he couldn't help himself" like come on. if the kid himself doesn't change then i don't really care to remember this incident. and no one reaching out to me and saying they've talked to this kid will actually prove to me he understands. this is the kind of inappropriate behavior it takes years for people to understand why it was wrong, especially a child who has no idea. i mean come on.

[pepperpixel]

More!!!! More!!!!! More bird art!!!!! So much fucking bird art!!!! I actually had variants of those chibi pics I wanted to post as well that I actually can’t because I have!! too much bird art!!!! And, a lot of these are actually pretty old tbh? I just never got around to fully finishing them. I have now tho! So yeah!!! Finally! I can post birds!!

[nonbinaryaubrey]

btw we figured out what Maris ''fear somethings'' will (probably) be based on

Claustrophobia, Thalassophobia (<- tho for different reasons than sunny), and Scopophobia

[coconutdays]

seat taker

s. you have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?

w.c. 10.6k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut! (its more so toward the end so u can read until it cuts off to that lol if u want)

a/n: based on this idea I posted about biker!geto from uni lol, I didn't really proofread so ill get to that sometime later after I shower and eat lol just wanted to get this out

"go sit next to him then."

you take a nervous gulp from your water bottle as you walk to your lit class. the effort was a bit clumsy considering you were using one hand to open and close it while the other held your phone, your friend on the other line.

"never, would I ever have the balls to do that. i may be confident but I am not as delusional as the caveman gym bro that took your seat so he could sit next to me in anthropology."

she laughs on the other end, a hysterical giggle at your backtalk.

"well then he's just gonna keep thinking you're creepy cause you stare."

you let out a haughty scoff, "as if I acknowledge his existence." a finger of yours goes up in the air, as if she could see you being a smartass about your discretion, "I never look at him. I only get in a glance or two when he asks the professor a question or when he raises his hand to answer a question."

"you're insane."

"unfixable." you sigh prettily and proudly before giving a more serious response to her first suggestion, "and it would be really awkward if I sat next to him either way. the class is packed and everyone has their assigned unassigned seats, the white haired guy that always sits next to him would probably push me off his seat if he ever saw me there."

"that is true. some girl did that to me in stats and I was like ??? have you not been sitting somewhere else this entire semester? pissed me off that I had to sit somewhere else and take someone's seat."

you're about five seconds away from your lecture hall door when you add to her complaint.

"right. and then that person looks at you funny cause you took their seat and then argh–its just a fucking domino effect." you turn around and take a step into the class, the sight before you bringing emphasis to the last words that you meant to finish off with, "fuck seat takers..."

"huh. what was that last part?"

your classroom is full. every one of the 200 seats are seemingly just taken. it's a sight you're not used to when you walk into class. normally, when you decide to go in, about half of the class is there, and you were starting to curse the fact that you gave yourself the luxury to finish the last of your reading for next week ahead of time. those ten minutes didn't seem like they'd make a difference, they sure do now...

with white haired guy sitting in YOUR seat.

its across the lecture hall from where he normally sits, next to Geto, who just so conveniently has an empty seat next to him, the only empty seat.

poker face, poker face, poker face.

it's all you repeat to yourself as you walk up the carpet steps to the row where Geto is sitting and try to continue the conversation with your friend.

there's no white noise, some people are typing away at their computers and others are chatting with the person next to them or near them, so it gives you room to explain yourself a little without being heard.

"everybody's already in class, and white haired guy is in my seat dude, and guess which seat isn't fucking taken." there's an edge to your voice, however it lays undetectable with your calm face.

"WAITTTTTTTT. AHAHA–"

you can feel your body heating up in nerves when you start walking between Geto's row, to the seat next to him.

"stop f/n. I am on the verge of committing a serious crime. I'm going to actually end up in handcuffs by the end of today. the–"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA." She keeps laughing at you as you force yourself to not care that you're pulling out and sinking into the chair next to Geto. If he acknowledged you, you wouldn't have known, his mere presence something you deleted from your mind in order to process the current events before you right now.

a high pitched and drawn out HA is the last of her laughs you hear before she speaks again, "I basically manifested this for you. you should be thanking me."

"fuck your manifesting. I'm not excited for this." you don't care to filter your voice into a whisper, it stays at its normal tone even though you're next to Geto because he didn't even know what the conversation was about anyway.

you balance your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you begin to take out your iPad and journal for class.

"ask him for a ride on his motorcycle after heh." she pokes at you and you feel like you can hear her poking out her tongue in malevolence.

even though you're slightly grumpy at your predicament, you manage to make a comment accompanied by a sigh, "with the way midterms are looking, id need a different kind of ride."

"you can ask him for that too~"

"shut up, you menace."

"hehe," she strikes evilly, "well, I'll leave you to your class with your boyfriend."

"no, stop, the class doesn't even–"

"bye!"

and she hung up on you, leaving you to flip mindlessly through your notebook while you try to ignore the presence of the hot hot hot piece of sexiness next to you.

suguru geto has been at the forefront of your mind for weeks now. you had always slightly admired him from afar, considering your actual seat in the lecture hall was across the room from him. he was undeniably attractive, with his long black always tied up in a bun and clean outfits. and his intelligence, he was always one to garner thoughtful debates in class in response to the professors teachings. his calmness towards everything was enough to make you swoon at the thought go him being that patient with you too.

and his stupid motorcycle, the thing that made it all click for you.

you had been walking to the library after class to meet with your classmate to work on an anthropology presentation when you caught a glimpse–stare–of him getting onto a motorcycle and pulling a helmet over his head before he quickly rode off to wherever he was going. for some reason, it really got your gears grinding and wishing you could just jump this man and do some truly desperate things.

he was all you thought about after. none of the other cute guys in your classes could hold a candle to the being that is suguru geto, renouncing you into a pining mess that looked forward to every lit class–even though you pretended you didn't care for him.

god, what even was the point in all of this if you weren't ever going to make a move? if he just SPOKE to you first maybe you could get some rizz in–

"you have pretty handwriting."

"I–what?"

you perk up like a deer in headlights at the sudden voice of Geto, wondering if you're the one he's speaking to.

and he is, he's spinning a pen between his fingers while he looks at you, slightly gesturing towards the journal in your hands, your cursive covering the pages of it.

"oh!" you're still caught off guard, doe eyes in the face of his sudden and scary, to you, comment, "thank you. can't even read it sometimes though, it's like trying to understand another language when I have to study what I write after."

he smiles slightly at your comment, a whisp of his dark hair swaying near his right eye, "I think it'd be cool to try and translate."

you resist the urge to curl into a ball and wish he would just look away from you, but you persevere, holding out your journal to him.

"be my guest." you say without hesitance

he sets his pen aside when he grabs it, immediately flipping through the pages and starting to skim through your notes, his eyes moving side to side as he does. you get a good view of him while he goes about trying to decipher your writings. he's wearing a black shirt today, it's not exactly tight, but not loose either. it gives you the perfect view of his arms bulging a bit, his biceps' size is an eye sore for you.

he's wearing these black stud earrings too, only visible because of the bun that he keeps his long hair. you wish you could see how long his hair actually was sometimes, he had never worn it down to class.

"looks like I'm more versed in your cursive than you are." he glances at you, a faint smile on his lips

your eyebrows raise a little and your eyes widen, "what? you can read it?"

he closes the journal and slides it to your spot on the very long lecture table. geto then leans over to your side a bit, close to your ear, and starts to point across the room to his white haired friend.

"see that idiot with the pitch black glasses?"

the question sends chills down your spine, the proximity making your heart race.

"y-yeah."

"silver spoon baby. learned cursive when he was four and it's basically incomprehensible unless you've been sharing notes with him since high school."

a laugh flows out of your lips, etching a smile on your face. your shoulder slightly bumps into his chest from it before you turn your head to directly face his.

"and I'm taking it that you're well versed in his cursive then too?"

he looks at you with a slight dreaminess in his eyes, his height still domineering over you even if you were both seated next to each other.

"have to be, would have failed lots of class projects if I didn't"

you take the opportunity to poke about the whereabouts of his friend in your seat now that he's been mentioned.

"and why's he sitting over there then?" you blink up at him for a response

at this, geto sinks back to his original position on his chair, face a million miles away from yours now as he goes back to fiddling with his pen.

"he's...trying to flirt with the girl he's talking to right now." he shakes his head a little, although there isn't much of a disappointed look in his face, it's more entertained. he was probably used to his friend's antics by now.

"ah. at least it looks like she's into it." you dispense the weight of your head onto the palm of your hand as you look at his friend with him, "could not have been me."

"what?"

you don't turn to look at him as you respond, "this Andrew Tate gym bro took my friend's seat to sit next to me in my anthropology class the other day. tried speaking to me like those guys who swear all you need is a computer to become a millionaire. worst ninety minutes of my life."

you hear a puff of a laugh from geto

"I can guarantee you Gojo has better skills than that. he's probably talking about his Halloween party for this weekend."

you flip your head to look at him suddenly, "he's that guy?"

every big party that everyone talked about on campus was always held by Gojo. they had numerous amounts of beers and liquor bottles. always the best music, the best hookup stories, the best snacks, everything. you hadn't put a face to the name until now, although it should've clicked when you found out Geto's name. his was always being paired with Gojo, as some would put it, two pretty best friends.

geto could see the gears turning in your head and his eyes creased a little at your realization in a smile, "yea, that's the guy."

you're a bit taken aback by his confirmation and turn to take another look at gojo before looking back at geto.

amused, geto speaks again, "by all means, go for it, he's–"

you quickly shake your head and stretch out both your hands to frantically do the same, "no, god, no. i'm not into him. it's just I didn't know that was him. I always hear good things about his parties."

geto nods, "he has an affinity for making sure everyone has a good time. you ever been to one?"

you shake your head, "never, haven't had the chance to or been invited."

"you should go to the Halloween one." geto suggests, gesturing his pen in your direction before going back to spinning it around his fingers, "you know where it is?"

you shake your head again, now completely facing his direction, the attention you were giving to his friend gone and now placed on him.

geto gestures towards your journal and reaches for it, "may I?"

you nod, curious at what he was going to do.

he flips the journal and opens the very last page, guaranteed to be blank and begins writing something on it.

when he pushes it back to your side of the table, you can see what he's written now, an address.

"that's where the frat house is."

you wiggle your eyebrows a little at him, "you in the frat too?"

geto laughs fully this time and shakes his head, "no. I have my own apartment. that's just gojo's thing."

you acknowledge him and look over the address written on your journal, "I'll think about it. have to wear my costume somewhere right?"

"what is it?" he tilts his head curiously, genuine interest in what you would choose to dress up as.

you try to bite back the smile at the knowledge you have of your costume and choose to leave it up in the air for him, tapping your journal on his shoulder.

"now that is something for you to find out if you see me at the party."

just how it's entailed in mean girls, you dress up slutty for gojo's halloween party. you wore a playboy bunny costume, close to one of the sluttier things you can wear, but it's rare recently for girls to wear as opposed to the trendy fairy and angel costumes lately.

although it isn't exactly halloween yet, its the first out of the two parties gojo was holding in honor of the holiday. next weekend there would be another one on the actual day, but you didn't know if you'd go that one yet, you were going to see what this one was all about though.

you brought your friend with you, hooking her up with the address geto provided you because she had been aching to go to one of gojo's parties too.

your eyes light up when you see geto's sleek black motorcycle parked near the garage as the both of you walk to the door.

"god, there's so many people inside." your friend all but screeches in excitement and you would too if it weren't for the nerves of impending doom that geto, your everything crush and classmate, was going to see you wearing this.

the chills that come from the thought make you rub your shoulders for heat as you walk inside and the blaring of the music becomes even more booming now that it isn't being shielded by the walls of the house.

"where do you think the drinks are?" you try to speak up, a trace of small worry at bumping into geto laced in your voice.

she raises her head up and looks around to see where she could spot the alcohol until she starts dragging you by the hand, "the kitchen is over here I think!"

she pushes the both of you past clusters of people, paving the way for her desire for vodka and it makes you bump into someone a bit roughly.

you try to voice out your apology quickly as she keeps dragging you along, looking back at who you just bumped into.

it's geto.

his eyes show mild surprise, not one for entirely showing his emotions, they're widened a bit and he looks a bit taken aback while his eyes rake up and down your body–still being dragged away. he's not wearing a costume, sporting a white t-shirt and jeans instead.

the words of apology you were going to utter fall off as you make eye contact and realize it was him you bumped into, he who just got an obvious look at your costume.

you're glad the speed of your friend makes the interaction short lived due to her lightning speed in suddenly bringing you to the kitchen, which is lined with beer and liquor of all kinds, every space of the spacious kitchen taken up by alcohol.

you hurriedly reach to serve yourself a cup of strawberry vodka, hoping that the first sip and those after might make your nerves dilute. when you turn around to talk to your friend, who's probably already served herself straight flavorless vodka, she's being flirted with by her anthropology club crush. she gives you a quick glance, a combination of 'oh my god oh my god' and 'sorry' being communicated to you.

you smile at her knowingly and point towards where everyone was dancing and talking, marking that that's where you would be while you left her to go as far as she wanted with the boy in front of her.

you're halfway through the crowd to make it to the patio when a voice is suddenly in your ear from behind.

"is it as cool as people say?"

you jump at the intrusion and cradle the cup of vodka to your chest and look at who just spoke to you.

it's geto, exactly behind you, his large frame towering over your body and leaned over so you could hear him.

you're stopped in your tracks and turn around to face him now, trying hard not to feel intimated by your basically half naked right in front of him.

"yeah!" you nod

geto turns his head a little from his spot at least a foot above you and leans down again, at level heads with you

"sorry, say that again." he looks at you earnestly, wanting to be able to properly hear your answer with the loud music echoing into your ears and his.

"I said yeah! I didn't know parties could be this packed!" you say, taking a nervous sip from your cup as you look at him

"what happened to your friend?" geto keeps his posture the way it is to keep talking to you

"the guy she likes started talking to her!" you exclaim past the loud blare of music.

"ah." he nods, taking a quick glance to the kitchen and spotting your friend smiling eagerly at the guy in a jason costume in front of her. "what are you going to do then?"

you blink cluelessly, haven't actually thought about until he asked you.

"dance!" you look around the room so he could look with you. bodies pressed against each other and bodies dancing by themselves all across the room.

geto smiles and straightens himself before reaching a hand out to you and gives you a look of 'wanna take it?'

you can't help the bashful smile that makes its way to your face as you hesitantly take his hand. he softly brings you closer to him, not as close as the other horny bodies in the room, but it's a little intimate and makes you feel intoxicated. he puts his other hand high on your waist, making sure to avoid the sluttiness beneath that line of your torso considering your outfit, and he starts to sway the both of you to the music. he holds you to himself with you hook an arm over his shoulder and use the other hand to hold your drink, singing along to the music with a toothy smile.

it was playful, the interaction with him, a fun setting between the both of you. the combination of that and the large heap of strawberry vodka you served yourself and managed to finish by the second song with him were the reason for your increasing comfortable nature with him. you were laughing and laying your head on his chest frequently through your endless bursts of energy and gasping breaths for relief.

he was smiling throughout the entirety of it, never getting too comfortable though, and keeping his hands where they had originally been.

"I just wanna be one of your girls tonight!" you sing at the top of your lungs.

geto lets go of one of the hands encircling you and instead reaches for one of the hands splayed across his shoulder and chest, caressing it with a thumb.

you tug at him a little with your other hand and he leans down to hear what you're about to say.

"wanna get drinks?" you ask, craving a sweet hard seltzer instead of another pour of vodka.

"you want something?" geto asks you back

"are there any strawberry drinks?" you blink up at him

geto looks like he's thinking for a second, trying to remember the usual drinks his best friend caters, before he nods, "yeah there are. want me to get you one?"

you nod eagerly at him and follow him to kitchen. he had taken a hold of your hand when he noticed you were going to accompany him, he didn't want you to struggle getting through all those people.

he had been bent over to look through a cooler on the floor before he stood up and held out a strawberry daiquiri to you, "here."

"thank you." you nod before you jump and sit on the countertop so you could rest and drink

you notice geto doesn't have a drink in his hand when he leans against the kitchen island in front of you.

"you didn't want a drink?"

geto shakes his head calmly, "gotta drive back."

"oh." you remember his motorcycle from earlier near the garage and strike another question so he doesn't know that you know he has a motorcycle. incredible logic.

"what kinda car do you have?"

"ah, not a car, a motorcycle." he smiles slightly, the answer was humble

"oh~"you drag out–as if it was new information to you–and continue drinking from your bottle.

"you have a ride back home though?" geto asks, crossing his arms over his chest so he could be more comfortable while listening to you.

"uhh," you reach for your phone and see a message from your friend asking if it was okay for her to go to McDonalds with her crush, "well I was going to uber with my friend, but she just had a change of plans."

"I can take you home." he offers genuinely, tilting his head in await for your answer.

"In your motorcycle?!" you blurt out

he starts laughing heartily at your answer and smirks at you when he speaks again, "never been on one?"

"no." you shake your head, a bit intimidated, "what if I fall. im literally naked im gonna get cut up by the road."

geto smiles at you, "that's a fair concern, but I'll give you my helmet and let you borrow my jacket, it's big, it should cover you up a bit no?"

although the alcohol leaves your brain empty, you think it over which involved nothing but staring at him in supposed 'thought' before you nod, "okay."

"can I give you my number? so you can send me your address?" geto asks, shuffling a little bit closer to you

"mhm." you hand your phone to him and watch as he types away into your phone before he hands it back to you. when you stare back at his contact name, suguru geto, it makes a dawn of realization wash over you.

"you don't know my name, rig–"

"y/n."

you do a double take at how fast he says it and his eyes crease at your reaction.

"what?"

"you get involved in the lectures a lot." he takes note for you

"oh." you sink back into yourself

"do you know mine?"

you shyly respond with a, "yea, you get involved a lot too..."

"good to know." he grins a little, watching as you take the last sip of your drink and gesturing back towards the dancing scene, "wanna go back?"

"yeah." you confirm softly, taking the hand he gives you so you can get off the countertop smoothly. and when your feet touch the ground, you yelp, "ow ow ow ow!"

the hour of pure dancing and jumping around had not been a good rival for your new and tall heels. they were a height you had walked before, but the shoes themselves were new and not worn in, causing a great deal of pain across your entire foot.

geto held you by just below your armpits, the worry he had seeping through in his widened eyes and his leaning over to see if he find out what was wrong with you.

"what's wrong?" he asks quickly

"the heels," you scrunch up your nose in pain and sigh, "they hurt like a bitch now that I got a bit of rest."

you can tell geto feels bad about your pain by the way he grimaces for you and plants you on the countertop again. he suddenly kneels down and begins to work at the clasps of your heels.

"you can borrow my shoes. that sound alright?" he looks up at you from where he's at, already sliding one of the heels from your feet.

you're quick to deny, "but what about you?"

"satoru and I are the same size, I can just ask him for a pair, he has a million."

you give in at his response, embarrassed, "okay."

"you want me to take you home now?" he lightheartedly smiles as he works on the other heel, "I think you can walk in my shoes, but dancing doesn't seem doable."

"well yea." you say dejectedly, a little frown etching itself on your face when he finally comes back up, his lips quirk up a little when he sees it

"wait for me here then." he says, putting your shoes next to you on the countertop before he walks off a little hurriedly to you assume gojo's room.

when geto walks you to his motorcycle, he takes your heels and puts them in the compartment box of it for you, then takes his helmet and immediately puts it on your head.

an 'oomf' leaves your mouth at the sudden weight of it and he looks a little amused as he starts working at the straps of it.

"there you go."

he smirks a little as he looks at the, very large in comparison to you, helmet, and picks up his jacket that he brought back from gojo's room to put on you.

"there we go" he sighs, almost like he's proud of himself and gets on the motorcycle, turning his torso a little to pat behind him for you to get on too.

when you get on and take in the feeling of sitting on a motorcycle for the first time, he's turned around and looking at his phone, pinching and zooming in on the route to your apartment.

"you actually live pretty close to me." he murmurs, noting what roads to take.

"yeah?" you yawn, laying your head on his back

"alright," geto says, starting up his motorcycle, revving it up a bit, "hug me tight okay?"

you nod sleepily and wrap your arms around him, brain so eased by the alcohol in your system that you don't overthink it, as if your sober self wouldn't be screaming and crying on the inside during this exact situation.

geto drives off at a decent pace, some part of you thinking that this might not be the speed he normally drives off and that he was taking it a bit slower just for you. you could feel him breathe in and out all throughout the ride, his chest and stomach were rising and falling underneath your touch. you fell half asleep on him halfway through it, managing to grasp onto him like a child with their stuffed animal, and unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids.

you blink back to reality at the sudden stop of movement, the stilling air was no longer brushing past your skin and the noise of wheels screeching against the road was gone.

after geto helps you get his helmet off, he hangs it on one of the handles and takes your heels out of the compartment box.

"this is your place right?"

another yawn flutters past your mouth again and you hold out your pointer finger to say yes.

"alright." geto says, watching as you lead the way into and through your apartment and to your place. he had placed a ghost of his hand near your back in case you started to trip up from his shoes considering their size in comparison to your feet. the walk was quiet considering your focus on making it to your door and the overwhelming sleepiness dawning on you.

when you get to your door you slip off geto's shoes and them to him, taking your heels from him in return.

"thank you, geto." you hold try not to yawn again, doe eyes sleepily fluttering at him

"you can call me by my first name." he comments comfortingly, "and no problem. see you in class?"

"yeah." and this time you do yawn, again, before you open your door and walk inside, looking at him while you hold onto the frame.

"alright then." he looks down at you from across the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his shoes, "get some rest okay?"

"okay." you almost murmur, your bed calling out to you.

you get to class at the time you usually do the following class meeting. the weather forecast had been a little chilly, so you opted for a cozy, off the shoulder sweater. it was fashionable and you had been dying to use it the moment you saw the weather forecast the night before.

you're scribbling notes onto your iPad this time, going over lecture notes from your earlier class that day. there were some things you forgot to add and that's what you always used this time for before class started. you see the class start filling in minute by minute out of your peripheral vision as you do this.

your habit of pretending to not care about suguru's presence is still existent, so all you can see for a fleeting second when you look into your backpack for a mint is that he is indeed sitting at his normal spot with gojo.

there was no chance to look at him that day in class, he hadn't spoken, which wasn't really rare, sometimes you wouldn't speak in class either. you, however, did speak in class that day, the module that the professor was teaching that day had piqued your interest a great amount and thus called for a great amount of your interaction with the lesson.

by the end of class, you were setting quick reminders on the notes you had taken of what was the most important before you started packing your bag to leave. the sound of feet and shuffling to leave the class a bit noisy, but it could let you make out the distant loud voice of gojo, probably talking to suguru.

"I have been on my best behavior. I do not know what you mean by that Suguru." "No no no that was a favor, look where it got you." "Oh you are such a wuss."

It was only a little appealing considering the fact that you couldn't hear what suguru was saying and the things that gojo was saying didn't let you get any clues as to what they were talking about. oh well.

you wanted to go home and start studying for a test tomorrow, so you started walking out of class, past suguru and gojo's line of view.

you heard a smack, like one of them had hit the other.

and gojo's voice, "idiot."

you were sitting at your desk, going over the last of your test review when you felt your phone buzz across the desk and picked it up

suguru

hey

y/n

hi

suguru

you wanna take satoru's seat next class?

y/n

he wants to flirt with mika again?

suguru

not rlly lol.

y/n

?????

suguru

I think it'd be cool to switch desk buddies every once in a while ;)

y/n

lmaooo. I won't tell mika if that's what you're scared of

suguru

haha, that's not rlly the case, but just take his seat

y/n

okay?

when you go to class again that same week, you hesitantly take gojo's seat. there was no follow up text from suguru after you said your okay and it was a little off putting. of course it had only been that night and the day after that he hadn't texted again, but it was a little weird, especially for it being the very first text conversation he strikes with you. the only thing that had been exchanged between either of you in your messages had been your address to him from gojo's party.

there were no notes for you to go over, there was no test or important knowledge that you had to use soon in any upcoming classes, so you were left to wait for the class to begin while you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and watched people come into class.

three minutes had passed before suguru and gojo were walking into class together. gojo was rubbing his friend's shoulder rather roughly, a fang filled smile on his face as he said something to him. suguru didn't seem to mind it, like many things, his eyes still had that warmth they always had, but it looked like he had said something back.

gojo playfully shoved suguru forward by the back before he laughed evilly and walked to your original seat, if you were right, you could see his bright blue eyes flick to you for a second behind his glasses before he smiled at the girl he flirted with last week.

you look up at suguru as he finally gets to the seat next to you.

"hey." he sighs with a smile as he plops into the seat.

"hey." you smile only halfway, a little tired from staying up to finish a homework the night before.

"sorry about the cryptic texts." he starts to apologize, moving his chair a little closer to yours, "satoru took my phone."

ah. that's why it seemed so out of character

"it's fine." you reassure, "they were a little off putting to read."

suguru scratches at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry about that. I meant to text after but I felt awkward."

"really? about?"

for the first time, you see him stumble on what to say, hesitance obvious when he opens and closes his mouth for a painfully slow second before he manages to respond, "to see if you were coming to the party on actual Halloween night this weekend."

"oh." your mouth opens in a little oh, oblivious to what he really wanted to say, "I'm not too sure. my friend that I went to the party with is spending it with that same guy she left with. so I don't have anyone to go with. plus I already used my costume."

"what's wrong with using the playboy bunny costume again?"

you eye him, disappointed, and lean over to flick his forehead, "i...am not an outfit repeater, suguru. the people who saw me at last week's party are going to remember me and say 'she's using the same costume again, what a loser'"

he gazes back at you as if you pat his head instead of just flicking it, warmth and a hint of mischief seeping into his stare, "you're right, you did catch a lot of attention."

"what?"

suguru leans back in his seat and answers, "you looked beautiful. it was hard to ignore."

"for who?"

"for me and every guy with eyes at the party."

he seems calm and confident when he says it, but his cheeks and ears start to get a slight pinkish hue as he awaits your response.

you try to keep looking at him, fighting the need to look away and wait for the professor to start class, your flustered face saying all too well what you're feeling, "what am I supposed to say to that?"

"you don't have to." suguru moves forward, positions his feet to face you as well as his face, and puts his elbow on the table, slanting his body onto it a little, "The president of gojo's frat asked for your name. He really liked you."

"Zenin?!"

"You like him?" he asks, with the tone of a guy who would try to set you up with the president if you said yes.

you shake your head, gaze looking down in embarrassment, "no no. it just caught me off guard..."

"if you like Toji it's fine," he tries to lower his head so he could catch your eye again, speaking earnestly yet something about it sounds like it's fake, it's weird, "he's like a dog, treat him well and he's loyal. although he can be brutally possessive, probably the type to leave hickeys on your legs if you're going to be with him and wear a costume like the one from the party."

"no, I don't like him. he's not my type." you answer meekly, having felt a bit of pressure from his boasts of the frat president.

"no?"

"no."

and before he can continue with his intense conversation again, you're saved by your professor, dramatically entering the class and bellowing for all of you to pay attention to him.

when your class ends, you try and succeed at scampering away from suguru before he can get a word out. as if she possessed magical powers, your friend called you the moment your professor ended the lesson. within the millisecond her name popped up on your phone, you grabbed at your phone at put it to your ear.

"hello?"

"hey hey! I have a question!"

you pay no mind to suguru as you haul your backpack over your shoulders and begin to walk out of class.

"what's up?"

"do you want the extra halloween costume I bought? levi is taking me to dinner on halloween for our date and I won't get to use it."

"the fembot costume?!"

you can almost makeout the banter between suguru and gojo a way's away behind you as you walk down the concrete steps of the building.

"yeah! you can go to gojo's party in it!" she beams, before her voice gains a bit of malice, "you can dance with motorcycle guy again~"

"go there by myself?" you groan, almost wanting to stomp your feet on the pavement beneath you

"lots of girls go by themselves to parties!"

"well I've never done that." you grumble

"aw come on. use the costume and go for me. pretty pleaseeeee."

"I'm going to give you a reason to be scared on halloween if this goes south for me. got it?"

it's cold when you get to gojo's party and you're beyond psyched out of your mind. from the unbelievably slutty costume that let everyone see your naked body in panties due to sheer babydoll material and the fear of coming across a very handsome suguru or toji zenin, who as handsome as he was might be able to seduce you, but you didn't want him like you did suguru.

you're more conscious of the stares now, due to suguru's previous comment and the fact that this costume was way more revealing.

on instinct you rush to the kitchen and get a strawberry daiquiri like the one suguru got for you exactly a week ago. you didn't want to get drunk tonight considering you came by yourself, so reaching for the strawberry vodka again was not within your list of options.

your eyes were on high alert as you pushed yourself through the countless bodies dancing, trying to remain unseen.

it doesn't give you cause to hide for some reason, considering he's suguru's friend, but you see satoru strut to the kitchen in a slutty firefighter costume. he was wearing the pants and boots, and nothing on top but a set of suspenders. classic.

however, you do a double take when you suguru geto wearing that same exact costume. you swear you feel your eye twitch in frustration when your eyes see his hair finally down, splayed across his back and chest, and get a peek of a tattoo tracing his spinal structure, bone for bone, going all the way up his back until it gets interrupted by his hair. his arms are practically calling to you when he fist bumps a toji zenin wearing a prisoner costume, they flex and bulge at the action. his abs are all perfectly prominent and–

he just made eye contact with you.

you hadn't gojo walk up to him and whisper something into his ear, probably that you were here.

fuck you satoru gojo.

suguru smiles immediately and turns to walk to you, leaving you to stay in place and not run away from him.

"you bought another costume?"

"no," you feel your chest heave at the sight of him, breath getting caught in your throat with his very shirtless self right in front of you. it makes you look off to a girl dancing behind him when you continue, "my friend gave me hers because she didn't end up dressing up."

"you want me to bring zenin?" he points a thumb behind him, towards the kitchen, face the definition of calm and suave.

you glare at him this time and take a sip of your daiquiri

"what? feeling shy?" he smiles down at you, if he weren't such a peaceful seeming person, you would have said it was condescending

"I'm not into zenin." a tinge of irritation already seeping into your voice.

"you sure?" he moves closer to you, your face right smack in front of his chest.

"yes." you jut your chin at him, done with his shenanigans

his lips twitch a little when he tugs your strawberry daiquiri out of your hands, grabs you by the neck, thumb close to your chin, and says, "open your mouth." he immediately starts to chug from your daiquiri and the thought of realization dawns on you of what he was about to do.

you open your mouth and he pushes his body closer to yours as he spits the drink into your mouth, his eyes solely on yours as he does it besides for when he briefly looks at something or someone behind you rather haughtily. he's still holding you and intently watching when you swallow it down immediately. that familiar happy crease of his eyes sketched itself across his face after.

you're heaving a little, star struck by the action the both of you just committed, "what was that suguru?"

"scaring off zenin. you don't want him right?"

his eyelids flutter a bit, something yours did whenever they were sleepy and it makes you search into his eyes more. your curiosity dying when you see the sudden red veins clouding the whites of his eyes. and you push him off.

"are you kidding me? you're high?"

"and drunk." he smiles, not minding your pushing him off and still inserting himself into your personal space again.

you try to speak and can't, solely out of irritation at the fact that he did that because of his intoxicated state. you bite your lip to stop yourself from overreacting and settle for shaking your head.

"you don't like guys who smoke?" he asks, genuine concern laced with his stupid crossed persona at the moment, "I tend to never smoke, but satoru passed me his joint when I was already at the 'whatever happens' point of a tequila bottle ."

"I really don't care about that in a guy, as long as he's not a musty constant weed user that can never cope with his life." you roll your eyes at him slightly, "but you just spit alcohol into my mouth because you're crossed as fuck."

"no." he scoffs, now entirely entranced in his conversation with you.

"yes."

"I spit alcohol into your mouth so zenin wouldn't come up to you."

the response makes you cross your arms over each other, "a simple 'hey she's not into you like that' would have sufficed."

"where's the fun in that?" its a serious question for him, you can tell by the way he patiently waits for your answer

irked, you look up at the ceiling while biting your cheek, trying to gather yourself again before you say, "sober up geto." and turning to walk away.

you made it your mission to stay hidden the entire party, having entered the deal with your best friend that if the night turned sour for you, she would come with her boy whatever to pick you up in his car

after their date.

which wasn't going to end until an hour or two.

the garage had stayed open to the enormous frat house, although there weren't any people in it. people had respected the space, leaving the miscellaneous in it untouched such as the two cars and...suguru's bike.

you eyed it from the rather comfy bean bag in the darkest corner of the garage, feeling a fight or flight instinct at the mere glimpse of it whenever you looked up from your phone.

it had been almost two hours since you last suguru and you were striving to keep the streak going on longer.

"told you I'm going home satoru." a wary and very sobered up voice says when they open the door to the garage, "I drank enough water, I'm sober."

it's suguru.

there is no stagger in his step and his posture is refined as he walks to lean again the trunk of the car furthest from you and closest to his bike. you remain hidden due to the cars covering you from his line of sight as well as the sheer darkness of the corner.

he's wearing a shirt now, another black one, and he rakes his hands across face when he gives a defeated sigh. you hoped he wouldn't notice you.

this was your Friday the 13th movie for sure.

suguru pulls outs his phone from one of the spacious pockets of his fireman pants and he starts to type away immediately. there's a slight buzz from your phone seconds within the action.

suguru

are you still here?

I'm sobered up now.

he shoves his phone back in his pocket after. and you watch as he stays where he is, crossing his arms across his chest while he waits a good five minutes for you to respond, which you don't do. he gets his phone out again after and taps something randomly before he puts his phone up to his ear.

buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz

the strong buzzing of your phone on your thigh make a ricochet that gets's fine tuned ears pick up quickly.

"y/n?" he's shining his phone's flashlight on you, squinting his eyes just a little to try and make you out.

nervous, you mutter, "what."

suguru turns the light off and sighs, walking to your corner, his eyes already getting adjusted to the darkness.

"why didn't you answer me?"

"do you really not know the answer?"

"you're right." he sinks down in front of you, sitting down on the floor and brushing a stressed hand through his hair. his legs are stretched out and basically manspread even though he's not on a chair.

"satoru didn't text you to switch seats with him because he wanted to flirt with mika" he comes forth, both of his hands laying across his knees.

you're confused, "but–"

"it was a wild attempt of his to help me talk to you again." and he laughs, a burst of energy randomly gracing the intense air. suguru raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck while his chest and stomach ricochet and his teeth peek out from his mouth.

"truth is, I really like you." he's still smiling.

the declaration makes you stare blankly at him and a million goosebumps rise across your entire body.

"if you don't feel the same in that regard it's fine of course." he reassures, back to his normal calm self, "I just thought it would help explain my behavior."

"since when?" you peep

"our first class meeting," suguru seems a little bashful at the confession

"I have for a couple of weeks now too." you meekly profess

suguru seems genuinely surprised, his eyes widening, "you have?"

"why do you sound so surprised?" your brows knit.

"it felt like you didn't know I existed until last week." he grins followed by a small huff of humor

"oh...that," you trail off, embarrassed, "I thought pretending you didn't exist was the best way for you to not know I had a thing for you..."

"satoru is far smarter than me in that aspect." he says, "he insisted that you were doing that when I told him."

you giggle a little, "he read me like a book."

suguru hangs his head for a second and groans, still joyful, before he whips his head up and gazes at you, "I apologize for having never gathered the courage to approach you before. I have Satoru to thank for even getting me here with you in the first place."

"it's fine." you shrug, pulling at your own fingers, "we're here now aren't we?"

"we are." he agrees before leaning over. suguru grabs one of your hands and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto it while his eyes never leave your own.

"want to go back to the party?" you muster past your nerves, focus solely on the warmth of his hand still holding onto yours.

suguru shakes his head lightly, "I'm enjoying it being just the two of us right now. do you want to?"

"no, I like it here too."

theres a moment of silence, where both of you stare at the hands that the both of you have connected until a strong breeze passes and flutters the thin material of your babydoll up and makes you shiver strongly.

"let me." suguru says as he hastily gets up and gets his leather jacket that's hanging from his motorcycle, then brings it back to you, helping you tuck your arms into the sleeves and get comfortable in it.

he's above you when he does it and you can see the small glances he tries to avoid giving your body, especially at the sparkly pink thong peeking through the see through material of your costume. suguru is making sure his jacket is on your properly when you call out to him suddenly.

"suguru."

he doesn't get the chance to respond when he looks back up at you and you pull him in by the material of his shirt to kiss him.

he reciprocates within seconds, after the surprise wears off and places a hand on your thigh, the other next to your head and grabbing at the beanbag. his lips are soft and have no remnants of alcohol on them, a smooth flavor of his skin and flesh meeting your tastebuds when he dips his tongue into your mouth. it elicits a groan from him when you whimper at the contact.

he pushes as much as he can into your space without falling and you follow suit, trying to lift yourself as much as possible off the beanbag to meet him.

a particular whimper has suguru pulling away from you and pulling you up by the arm so he can maneuver you to sit on the trunk of the car next to you. when he plops you down onto it, he slots his torso between your thighs and pulls you for an even deeper kiss. his hands have a strong grip on your thighs as he keeps you against him and you can feel the distinctly large throbbing of something against your panties through his pants.

"are–mmmm–you hard?" you ask through kisses

suguru can't help the grind of his bulge against your core when he answers and keeps kissing you, giving small nips to your lips, "yes."

your eyes are closed into the kiss when your hands navigate to the waistband of his pants, about to reach for–

"not here." suguru mutters and keeps both of your wrists clamped under one of his large hands.

you pull yourself away from his lips and heave, a pout of sexual frustration illustrated on your eyes and lips. "okay."

he raises a hand to caress your cheek as he smiles fondly, "what?"

"nothing."you look away for a quick second, leaning in to kiss him again after.

suguru stops you before you do though, clamping one of his hands against your mouth while the other holds the back of your head.

he's smiling even wider this time, "now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you touch me before I get to touch you?"

you slouch in his hold, too upset by the fact that you couldn't touch him or go back to kissing him to care about his words.

"you know, even satoru couldn't keep his eyes off of you in this little costume of yours." he looks down for a second so you could too, "god knows what toji was thinking. I saw the tent in his pants when you took my spit and booze like a good girl."

suguru sees the way you shift your hips for a smidge of relief at his words. "are you my good girl?" he leans his forehead across yours, hand still on your mouth. you try your best to let out a muffled 'mhm' and incessantly nod your head, eyes pleading and hands gripping onto his shirt.

"are you going to answer the phone when I text you next time?"

you give him the same answer again.

"god." he warily eyes you, gaze wandering towards the outline of your breasts and the rest that wasn't covered by your thong, "you're so beautiful."

the hand at the back of your neck trails down and moves some hair away from your shoulder, then ends up holding you by your lower back as suguru leans down and starts to mouth at your neck. he starts off small with his intentions, simply placing soft and subtle kisses, eliciting a ticklish response from you until his lips become searing and he goes in with the intent of leaving hickeys on you, it makes you squirm and suguru lets you, it's not like you can break away from his touch anyway. you use your legs to keep him caged in and closer to you eventually after the third 'pop' you heard coming from his mouth on your skin, it makes him audibly laugh for a second too.

you tug at the hand on your mouth, expecting for the task to be hard considering his build, but suguru lets his hand fall away easily and hold onto your thigh.

"what are you thinking pretty?" he asks mindlessly before going for the opposite side of your neck

"mmmm–about how good–mm–this feels."

"yeah?"

"mhm"

"tell me what you want to do. do you want me to drop you off at your place after this?" he blows on your most recent hickey and smirks when he sees you jump a little, "do you want me to get you food?"

"I want–ah!" suguru bites into your neck fairly hard, enough to make you moan and yelp at the same time, "I want to spend the rest of the night with you at my place. can we watch a scary movie?" the suggestion is simple and it isn't to hook up with him, although that's what you want more than ever now, but you don't want him to think you're that desperate so its what you settle for.

"couldn't imagine a better halloween than that." he smiles

you're under suguru, on your bed later that night, the movie you had been watching was long forgotten and the t.v. was turned off the second things started to get out of hand. it wasn't his fault no, suguru's a gentleman and when you said you just wanted to watch a movie, he was just going to watch the movie with you. you were the instigator. after you had been cuddled into his arms, near his neck, you decided to place a few loving kisses...that eventually turned into what this was with suguru getting up to take off and throw away his shirt while you hastily yanked off the long gloves of your costume.

he was needy, grinding his hips into yours the moment he came back down to kiss you.

"you have no idea how fucking bad I've been wanting you." he mutters, hissing when a particular rub pleases him the right way

it makes your back arch, "I think I do suguru."

"really?" he groans into your mouth, "you touch yourself to me like I do for you?"

"yeah." you sigh, clinging onto him even more, splaying your hand across the soft skin of his back.

"move your panties to the side."

when he feels your hand move down and follow his directions, suguru moves his down too and slides a finger across your soaked folds.

"fuck, this pussy is so wet for me. were you even trying to pay attention to the movie?"

"yes, I was." you complain, and whimper when he starts rubbing circles across your lower lips, gathering your slick for added stimulation after every rub.

he separates himself from kissing you to look down at his ministrations, mouth opening in a soundless moan at the sight.

"listen to this sloppy fucking pussy." he rubs faster and you start to jerk your hips up by natural defiance at the stimulation, but he holds you down "no, let me touch you baby." he says sternly

your breathing starts to pick up and you feel that familiar knot that only you can give yourself starting to build up in your stomach and suguru notices, looking up to smile at you.

"are you close angel?"

concentrated on the feeling, all you can do is nod your head and he speeds up his pace at it, garnering close to wanton moans from you and screech like whines.

"come on come on, cum for me pretty girl, cum cum cum cum–fuck, atta girl." suguru talks you through it, mouth opening in awe at the sight of your body going limp and your breathing slowing down, his cock even twitches at how cute it is that your legs kick a little when you cum too, he thinks he'll be able to keep them still when he gets make you cum on his cock.

you start to hiss at the overstimulation when he keeps rubbing your clit after your high, "'s too much suguru."

he doesn't stop, "you want to stop now then?"

the shake of your head makes his eyes light up and bite his lip with a grin, "then just let me keep going."

it takes all of your strength to lean up with one of your elbows and grab his wrist with the other, obvious strain written across your features when you huff, "I want you inside me."

like he knew that was what you wanted, suguru's grin grows wider, "are you sure?"

you nod your head in confirmation, followed by suguru saying, "so cute." before he gets up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and climbs on top of you, manhandling your legs by pinning them to either side of your head into a mating press.

he lets his cock teasingly rub up and down your folds while he leans down to nip at your ears, "let's leave your little costume on yeah?"

you nod and make a face when his tip catches on your entrance

suguru lifts his hips at your confirmation and pushes his tip in, savoring the way you're beginning to invite him inside you.

" 's so big sugu." you whimper in shock at the larger than expected intrusion

"never taken a cock this big?" he pulls out and pushes in again a little deeper

"no." you rake your hands down his arms

suguru laughs, "good thing I'm here to provide then right? see, look at you creaming around me already."

the words make you look down at where you both meet and when he pulls out again, you can see the ring and slick on his dick, it makes you shiver.

"I'll–make–this–little-fucking–pussy-take–me." he punctuates each and every one of his words with a thrust that pushes himself deeper and deeper inside you until you can fully feel his tip grazing your cervix and every vein on his dick ridging against your walls from how girthy he is.

every sound that comes out of your mouth after is incoherent when suguru starts to punishingly pummel into you and god does he keep talking to you.

"you look so pretty taking this dick baby. god, you sound even cuter than I imagined. you like getting stretched out like this? fuck, take it take it take it. wish I could make you sit on it, you'd look so cute trying to ride me."

it's all so much, especially when every thrust is accompanied by a moan or groan of his or with a sentence.

"couldn't fucking wait to get home after the party last week too. wanted to rip off that costume and fuck you till you couldn't even scream. and when you wear those skirts with pantyhose to class?" suguru groans, "all–I–can–think–about–is–bending–you–over–and–stuffing–this–pussy–with–my–cum."

"suguru!" you squeal, "im–I'm gonna cum!"

suguru tightens his hold on your thighs at the admission and starts jackhammering into you, "cum around me baby. let me fuck you through it." it almost sounds like he's starting to beg, "just cum for me, cum for me, cum–"

a silent scream leaves your mouth and you trash in suguru's hold while he keeps his furious pace.

"so pretty, angel." his eyebrows knit as he watches you orgasm and feels you clamp down on him. it has his peak lurching across his body and his thrusts grow erratic as he starts spurting his cum into you.

he leans down to kiss you as his cock twitches inside of you, leaking his cum into you each time.

at the end of the kiss, the both of you are heaving against each other, smiles on both of your faces until you erupt into laughter and giggles.

suguru is still inside you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, swiping away your sweaty baby hair, "you're cute when you cum. you kick your legs a little, I like it."

the confession has you trying to shy away and suguru laughs again, caressing your head, "why are you shying away? you wore this costume for everyone to see just a couple hours ago."

"well this is you telling me you think the way I cum is cute, its quite different than guys looking at my thong." you shakily grab onto his shoulders

"I suppose so." suguru nuzzles into your neck, "do you have a bath?"

"yeah."

"let me start one for us then." he pulls out and both of you look down at your lonely entrance until his cum starts to leak out. suguru seems entranced and you can see his cheeks start to gain a red hue accompanied by the blood starting to rush to his cock too.

suguru looks back at you the moment you do too. you reach a hand out to him and he crawls back on top of you.

"we can do that later right?"

"right."

[fangswbenefits]

Suit Up

Summary: Miguel craves to mark you as his, but he’ll have to start slow… so he offers to build you a custom suit. For now.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed Miguel. Innocent and inexperienced reader. Pining. Sexual tension and frustration. Masturbation. Breeding kink.

* ˚ ✦ Part 1 (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one)

Miguel had decided he was going to build you a suit.

Not just a regular one, but an extension of his own.

He craved to have you for himself, and to have others know that. But he’d have to play his cards right. This level of obsession could easily scare someone off at first.

Especially you.

His sweet, sweet girl.

So he settled for this: building you a custom digital suit to match his.

Slowly, but surely you’d start to connect yourself to him more often.

Or so he hoped.

He found you in his lab early in the morning, sitting by the desk while taking your sweet time with a slice of watermelon.

“Good morning.”

As expected, you jolted in your seat, turning to face him.

A few droplets of juice dribbled down from your lips and chin, and eventually landing on your shirt.

You offered him a messy grin, bits of watermelon all over your teeth, but the absolute innocence of that action tore straight down to his cock.

“Oh! Miguel, hi! Sorry—” your voice came out slightly muffled, as you placed the half moon slice on a plate. “This watermelon is so sweet! Want a taste?”

His brow furrowed and he halted right in front of you. “There’s…” his voice trailed off, eyes fixed on your chin.

You immediately picked up on the implication and wiped the sugary liquid from your skin with a napkin, bringing a few fingers to your lips as well.

Miguel cursed inwardly and wondered if you were truly unaware of how suggestive all of this looked.

He slapped that thought away. No. You were too innocent for that. Your words and actions held no second meaning.

You were genuinely so fucking clueless that it only served to fuel his obsession with you.

His cock gave him a warning twitch.

He was all too familiar with those by now.

Would you be this messy while sucking him off? Would you not be able to keep it all in and eventually swallow?

He’d be fine with you not swallowing it all at first. After all, he did cum a lot. It would probably be overwhelming for someone as innocent and inexperienced as you.

“Miguel?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts at once. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry for making a mess,” you said, hurriedly cleaning the desk.

There was no doubt you’d be the death of him.

Apologising for making a mess…

“Don’t worry about that,” he managed to say flatly. “I’m sure it tasted really good.”

You then smiled once more and let out a cock-twitching groan. “Oh, yes! But… why did you want me in here my casuals today?”

Right.

He moved to tap the hovering screens in front of him. “I was thinking you suit might need an upgrade.”

“What? But I built this one myself… what’s wrong with it?” you whined softly, sticking your bottom lip out.

His cock twitched again.

“I know, I know,” he reassured you with extreme ease. “But I’ve been working on a prototype of my digital suit and would like for you to test it out.”

A blatant lie.

He had just decided this the night before, after that post nut clarity had hit him hard.

How else would he mark you without you even realising?

You blinked a few times, having to tilt your head up to stare at him, and it was enough to flare his imagination.

“Really?” the excitement in your voice was palpable and he felt a sudden rush of satisfaction. “That… that would be an honour, Miguel!”

His fingers tapped through multiple files. “You’ve been helping me out a lot in the lab lately. It’s only fair that I show my appreciation.”

Your gaze wavered momentarily, broken by his genuine praise, and Miguel nearlt bit his lip from this sight alone.

“I do it willingly, Miguel. I love learning new things from you,” your eyes were back on his, and you were bearing a warm smile. “You’re a great teacher!”

He tried hard to tear his gaze away from your lips, and offered a mere nod.

You deserved more than a nod.

And your eagerness to learn from him made him feel swollen with pride. An ego booster.

It was quite addicting.

He’d teach you so much more if you’d let him. He’d teach you how to embrace your pleasure and use it for him only. Oh, how he’d enjoy teaching you how to suck his cock, or how to use your words to turn him on.

Fuck.

He would teach you all he knew.

You’d have all of him.

But he wanted you to want him the way he wanted you. No. He needed you to need him. To crave and yearn and feel the unfair ropes of despair tighten around you.

“I’ll just need your measurements,” he said, fetching a couple of measuring bands from a top shelf. “These will measure every tiny detail, so the fit is as suitable as possible.”

You nodded eagerly, lips slightly parted. He moved to grab each wrist, closing the metallic band around each wrist.

“Feet up,” he asked, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his true feelings.

You lifted one leg after the other, and he carefully clasped them around your ankles, the feel of your warm skin and proximity nearly having him bite his own lip.

“Wait, do I have be naked?”

The question caught him completely off guard and he straightened up at once. “What?”

Miguel felt more blood rushing downwards and was grateful his own suit was able to keep most of his strained erection from sight.

You broke into a nervous laugh. “Oh — I mean… you’re naked under your suit, right?”

He nodded. “Your suit becomes an extension of yourself and it should feel like a second layer of skin,” he added, extending one arm out, and allowed you to see the digital layer of fabric quickly retracting from the tips of his fingers all the way down his naked torso.

The reaction was immediate.

Your eyes landed on him for only a split second, before looking away.

For the second time that day, Miguel’s ego soared to incredibly dangerous heights.

You looked so innocent and sheepish, not daring to gaze at his incredible physique once again.

He wouldn’t hold that against you, though. You’d have plenty of time to gawk at his body once he managed to break into your mind, and make you his.

“It feels more comfortable this way,” he added reassuringly, as his suit promptly covered his exposed skin once again.

You turned to look at him again. “Oh! So I don’t actually have to be naked,” you giggled in relief.

“No,” Not for this, he wanted to add.

The height difference was starting to take a toll on his ability to focus. Having you sitting on that chair, perfectly levelled to engange in a more suggestive scenario, was enough to feel the blood boil in his veins.

He needed more.

He needed to touch you.

“Let’s boot the measuring analysis program,” Miguel took your hand in his and helped you on your feet. “I need you to stand still.”

He needed so much more than that from you, but he’d have to settle for silent agony for now.

You were visibly excited, barely able to contain yourself as a smile settled on your face, and he felt the sudden urge to praise you for being so eager and such a tease.

He tapped a few commands on his watch, and came to stand behind you, careful not to stand too close, or you’d notice his hard cock.

“Do you trust me?”

You shouldn’t…

You turned your head to the side to look into his crimson eyes, confusion twisting your face. “Of course I do, Miguel.”

… because he wouldn’t.

He rolled his fingers along the hem of your shirt, slowly rolling it upwards. His heart went into overdrive instantly and he could feel the first droplets of precum dripping down his cock.

You flinched once his knuckles brushed against your skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked, halting at once.

You nodded and giggled lighty. “That tickles.”

His sweet girl…

How was he supposed to endure burying himself inside you inch by inch when he couldn’t barely keep his composure now?

Once the shirt was resting under your breasts, he moved one hand to grip it gently from behind, effectively tightening the fabric flat over you. From where he stood, he could see your bra’s outline and how your breasts heaved with each breath you took.

This was driving him mad.

Your cleavage was so inviting and he had to take a step back, ensuring his erection wouldn’t accidentally brush against your ass.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take this off?” you asked.

You were so fucking sweet and innocent, and he wanted nothing more than to rip all of your clothes apart.

“Just let the program scan your body,” he said, voice strained and breath coming out in shallow pants. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you immediately replied.

Such a good girl for him… his sweet girl…

He would want to ask that same question the day he got to teach you how to suck his cock.

You’d struggle at first.

But he’d be patient.

He’d probably need to come up with a serum to inject himself with to keep from exploding right away, and he couldn’t have that.

You would need proper guidance, wouldn’t you? How he’d love to have you on your knees, mouth dropped open and receptive.

His other hand was now pressed flat against your tummy and he nearly bucked his hips in response.

Careful, Miguel, he scolded himself.

Was this too much?

In reality, he didn’t need to be doing any of this for measurements, but he couldn’t help himself.

He needed you closer.

He needed to feel you shudder against his touch.

He needed you to need him.

You gasped softly once he started to moved his hand down ever so slightly, fingers nearly touching the waisgband of your pants.

“Ticklish?” he asked in a low voice.

You hummed, bucking your hips into him with a faint giggle, and he felt his cock into contact with your ass.

Oh, fuck.

He had to let go of you right away, flinching back.

You turned to eye him, worry plastered all of your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No!” he said right away, more precum droplets spilling out. “I think the analysis is complete,” he cleared his throat and turned his back to her, looking down to his bulge.

He wish he could set his cock free.

No.

He wish you would offer to set his cock free.

He wanted you to know and see how much his body craved yours.

“Miguel, are you okay?” you asked tenderly, moving to stand by his side, brushing his tense bicep. “We can finish this some other time.”

Was it really possible for someone to be this clueless? Was your inexperience that blinding? Hadn’t you felt his erection?

Against his will, he nodded.

He needed you gone right away.

He had to get off urgently.

“You’re overworking yourself again…”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

How he’d love to make you his and have you take care of him.

Your hand squeezed his muscles gently. “Is there anything I can do?”

Please, touch me… “No. I’ll just finish the suit and have you test it out soon.”

Your hand dropped.

Maybe if he asked you to let him fuck your hand, you’d let him. Maybe.

He’d settle for you watching him jerk off to you, at this point.

“Can I pick the colours?” you then beamed, glancing up at the orange screens. “Can I? Please?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you chirped happily, swiping across the customisation menu on the screen.

Miguel paced quickly into a storage room to his left, groaning into the back of his hand.

In no time, he had the front part of his lower half of his suit vanish, cock springing free, fully coated with precum.

He let out a strained and breathy sigh of absolute relief.

“Ay, Miguel…” he muttered to himself, realising just how badly this obsession had gotten.

His cock twitched, sending strand of precum to dangle from the tip.

From this angle, he could see your back, shirt still nicely tucked under your breasts, revealing so much of your skin to him.

That would do.

For now.

Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he set a slow pace at first, testing out his limit.

Dangerously close.

It was unfair that you were so close, yet so far. You were completely unaware of your effect on him.

Faint anger took over him.

You should be the one to bring him relief.

This was all on you… his sweet, innocent, inexperienced girl.

The pace quickened and he felt his fangs extending in anticipation.

You were bending over the desk, lifting your ass just enough for his mind to have imagining himself ramming into your from the back.

You’d love that position. Maybe not at first, but he’d teach you to enjoy thoroughly.

Being rawed and bred. You’d be a loving mother, wouldn’t you? You’d let him breed you over and over again, because you were just nice like that.

So eager to please.

He wished you’d bend over a little more, so he could fully immerse himself in his lust.

Feeling one fang dig into his lower lip, Miguel wondered how long it would take to draw blood, considering how hard it was for him to suppress his groans.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and his desire nearly pained him, because his hand would never be as tight as you, and it would never feel like you.

But he had to get rid of this now.

He had to complete your suit and mark you as his.

Everyone in Nueva York and across other universes would know you were his.

They would know not to cross you, for his wrath would be unmatched.

The sweet tingles of an orgasm soon engulfed him whole, and he threw his head back and fluttered his eyes shut, relying on his mind to keep your alive as he fucked himself for you.

Just you.

His sweet girl.

Just his.

He squeezed the first spurts of warm cum with his fingers, allowing himself go roll his hips in a broken rhythm.

The metallic taste of blood pooled in his tongue and he knew his fang has dug too deep, but he didn’t care.

He would break himself for you.

And you would, too.

You just didn’t know it yet.

Part 3

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