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yoonjae20 · 4 months ago

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Ric(hard) Fenton; Part 1

(Once again slightly inspired by @saltymarshmall0w 's prompt.)

Read on ao3.

Masterpost. Next.

“B, didn’t you promise us as you’d tell if there was a possibility of another secret child?” Tim asks as he stares at the black haired boy, who looks like he had been to hell and back to get here, with blue eyes — because of course, they are blue — in front of the Manor’s door.

He can’t help but feel unnerved by the way the boy evaded their security measures and how he hasn’t said a single word since Tim opened the door even when he can see the boy’s hands tremble.

“Yes?” Bruce's voice floats from further in the Manor, his barely audible gaunt drawing near.

“Then who the hell is this?” he asks just as the man turns the corner. He freezes at the sight of the kid, literally blue screening as he takes him in.

“Actually he’s mine,” a too chipper voice announces and Tim nearly jumps out of skin as he turns to Dick.

The young man must see both Tim and Bruce doing the mental calculations in their heads because he interrupts before they can draw the wrong conclusions.

“If Bruce can go around adopting children, I can do the same.” Then he turns to the boy. “You can come in, Danny.”

Tim is eerily reminded of a wary, frightened cat as the boy — Danny moves inside. His steps are too silent for a mere civilian.

Bruce and Tim share a look and Tim knows that they are both asking themselves when Dick met the boy and why he never mentioned him with how familiar he acts around him as he easily tucks him into his side.

Although neither of them wants to accept it, Dick has changed since the one year where he disappeared without a trace. He’d told them that he was shot leading to him to lose his memories and that he only retained his memories a few days before he came back, but Tim always had a feeling the older man was not telling the whole truth, hiding it behind an easy-going smile. He didn’t speak a single word about what happened during that year, claiming he didn’t remember much of it ever since his memories returned.

Not only that, but it had become even rarer than before that any of them would meet Dick at the manor (even Jason was at the Manor more often) — and when he was present he was always studying them with an intense stare as if he was searching for something in their expressions.

“Dick,” Bruce starts but the man waves him off.

“Later,” he says. “I need to see if I have any fresh clothes for Danny.”

Dick pulls the boy away and they head up the stairs. Tim gives it a minute before he follows, nodding at Bruce, who does the same. He hears them stop in the hallway and he pauses in his steps.

“What’s going on?” Tim hears the man's question and he sneaks closer when he can’t hear the boy’s response. He subtly uses his phone’s camera to peek around the corner.

“What about Mom and Dad?” Dick asks in a hushed whisper and Tim knits his eyebrows together — confused about who his brother is talking about.

Danny winces with a pained expression.

“The GIW got them in custody for affiliating with and aiding an ectoplasmic entity,” he explains. “You are my only chance.”

“Jazz, Sam, Tucker?” Dick almost seems desperate and when the boy just shakes his head after each name, he runs a hand through his hair and curses.

“And you are sure we can’t go to them?”

Tim can’t help but ask himself who they are talking about that Dick’s voice is so full of disdain. Danny vehemently shakes his head, eyes squeezed together like he is remembering something painful and when he speaks his voice is shaky.

“I don’t know what to do, Ric,” he says, clutching the top of his shirt like his heart is hurting and Tim’s eyebrows climb to the top of his hairline at the unusual nickname. “I can’t- I can’t do this alone…”

“Fuck.” Dick takes a deep breath as he hugs Danny. “Okay. Yes, of course I’m coming with you, baby ghost. Just let me grab my things and then we’ll go on our way.”

“You will not go anywhere.”

Bruce steps in Dick’s path before Tim can stop him and he narrows his eyes at the pair. Danny flinches away from the man and Dick steps protectively in front of the boy.

Tim knows Bruce and Dick had their rough patches in the past but never like this. Never had Dick looked at Bruce like he was a threat.

“I’m not in the mood, B,” Dick warns sharply.

“And I’m not about to let you go off with someone that I haven’t vetted.”

Dick lets out a bitter huff of a laugh.

“Of course that’s the only thing you would focus on.” His voice is cold. “You’ll bulldoze your way through, and prod and condemn, not caring if you hurt someone innocent in the process as long as you can justify your actions. I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point. It’s what happened to Jason after all.”

Bruce reels back like he’s been punched.

“Now if that is all, I have to go save the people who actually treat me like family.”

This time nobody stops Dick as he leaves the house, Danny in tow.

“Master Bruce, Master Tim,” Alfred’s voice tears Tim out of his trance and startles Bruce who froze in his spot. “Where is Master Dick?”

Dick trembles with barely suppressed fury as he leads Danny to his car.

He wanted to believe that Bruce was better — that he wouldn’t have led the Justice League on a hunt after a child, but the longer he is back in Gotham as Richard Grayson — the longer he is around who were supposed to be his “actual” family, the more he grows unsure about that fact. There is no easy trust between them — not the steadfast determination that no matter what happens, they’ll take his side. Not like the Fentons have. (It’s been barely 2 months and he misses being Ric Fenton — misses being Jack and Maddie’s son and Jazz and Danny’s older brother.)

Bruce has contingency plans about them for fuck’s sake. And while he understands that there might be situations where they would be on other sides — the time where he and the Teen Titans had to fight their mind controlled mentors comes to mind — it’s a scary thought. For the first time since ages — since Bruce had taken Robin away from him — he feels like he is on his own.

Back then he had turned to Clark — to Superman. He was the one who gave him the name Nightwing but Dick is plagued by the nightmares he witnessed Danny having. He doesn’t think he can look at his uncle ever the same again.

At the same time, he doesn’t know if Danny and him can do this alone. He glances at the boy as he drives out the gates to the manor — he looks incredibly drained. He’s even paler than usual and there’s a sheen of sweat over his whole body as he leans back in his seat, breaths shallow.

As he drives through the streets of the Bowery a sudden thought comes to his mind. He tears the steering wheel around, tearing Danny out of his doze. He blinks at Dick, eyebrows knitted together when he sees that they are still in Gotham.

“Where are we going?” he asks and Dick gives him a smile that is all teeth.

“Just a little pit stop.”

Jason and Dick don’t talk much — or to be more precise they don’t talk about the important stuff. Not about the — ‘I broke down when I heard about your death and I blame myself for not being there’ or ‘I was sure you hated me and you were glad I was gone’. They barge into each other's apartments, spar or get drunk together and cling to each other when they are sure the other isn’t awake to witness it. It’s not quite healthy — but it’s something better than when Jason was still Robin.

So when the door to one of his safe houses gets slammed open, Jason isn’t concerned. He knows Dick had been off the past few weeks and had been expecting his visit for quite a while now.

The look in Dick’s eyes is different this time around though. It’s not quite the mix of depression coupled with anger he normally expects — it’s something stronger — righteous fury.

“I need your help,” Dick demands before Jason can question what’s going on.

Jason knits his eyebrows together.

“What about Bruce?”

There’s a dark look in the man’s eyes for a moment before it passes and that’s the moment Jason realizes that this something more serious than the usual spats he normally has with B.

“You are the only one I can trust with this.”

He spins around on his heels and is out of the safe house before Jason can blink. Getting a bit impatient and angry about Dick not getting straight to the point and still expecting him to follow — Jason storms out. What he doesn’t expect is the passed out half-dead kid in the passenger seat. A tinge of green enters his vision as he glares at Dick.

“What the hell is going on?”

The story Dick tells as they speed on the highway leaves Jason reeling. If the man’s tone wasn’t carefully monotone as he spoke about Ghosts and an entire town being shifted to a different dimension, Jason would have already declared that Dick finally snapped. He wants to question why he lied to the rest about losing his memories about the year he went missing, but the desperate look he sends him and the way his hands shake on the steering wheel hold him back. It’s only the boy’s quiet snores that have Jason’s volume not climbing above a hiss.

“Are you sure this all happened? That this is real?”

“I was there, Jay,” Dick’s tone leaves no arguments. “I almost watched Danny die, again — fighting Pariah Dark. I would have never forgiven myself if another of my brothers…” He gulps and shakes his head. “I was there this time. I should have made a difference and once again I was helpless”. He slams a fist against the radio, cursing when it turns on, blaring loud music.

He quickly turns the volume down and both of them wait with bated breath as Danny stirs in his seat, before he goes limp again. Dick lets out a deep sigh.

“How do you think I felt once I realized the situation?” Dick questions. “I was in the middle of nowhere with no recollection of who I was. If the Fentons hadn’t found me-” He shakes his head. “Next I know I’m watching a kid fight fucking Ghosts twice his side and getting thrown around like a ragdoll like it’s a normal Tuesday. That shouldn’t happen Jay, it just shouldn’t.”

Jason stays silent.

“And worst of all, I still knew how to fight,” Dick barrels on. “But no matter how much I tried to help Danny and teach him, it was useless because it wasn’t humans or even metas he was up against. How could my moves counter beings that can fly and go intangible and invisible at will?”

Jason still can’t fathom why Dick hid this from them all — but he knows enough to understand why he needs his help.

“So what’s the plan?”

Dick shoots him a relieved smile.

“We still have 12 hours of driving ahead of us,” Dick glances at Danny. “I’m reckoning he’s gonna be out cold for at least half of it if not more. I need you to switch with me after half of the drive so I can get a power nap in, then I’ll take over again.”

“Not trusting me with the car?” Jason teases.

“Show me your drivers license and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

They start bickering, and for a moment Jason can convince himself that this is a normal road trip.

Jason’s at the wheel when the boy wakes up. Dick is out cold and despite the man’s protests Jason can drive normally if he wants to. There’s no reason the man has to over exhaust himself.

They had tossed their phones once they crossed the border to Illinois and Dick had withdrawn a couple of thousand bucks. Jason had questioned why they hadn’t done sooner if they wanted to keep Bruce off their trail, but the man told him he’s not the one he is worried about. Considering what Dick told him about the elusive GIW, Jason can harbor a guess on who he is talking about. It’s after that, that Jason wrangled him into another nap — Dick was in no condition to drive any further.

“Ric?” Danny questions sleepily as he sits up and Jason keeps an eye on him out of the corner of his eyes.

“He’s asleep,” Jason answers and it’s only because he’s used to Damian that he blocks the instinctual kick as the boy realizes he’s not alone.

“I can see that Dick kept you sharp” Jason huffs out a laugh. “I’m Jason, in case he didn’t mention me.”

Danny blinks at him and shifts so he is sitting cross legged. He knits his eyebrows together, clearly thinking.

“You were the pit stop?” he questions.

“Apparently.” Jason shrugs. “Great work, by the way. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Dick this pissed.”

The boy frowns, gnawing at his lips as he stares out the window.

“You’ve died too, haven't you?”

Jason suppresses his initial reaction to snap at the boy. Instead he grits his teeth as he stares straight ahead, the road blurring together.

“And?”

“Ric shouldn’t have let you come.”

He grips the steering wheel until his knuckles are deadly white, green hazing his vision.

“They’ll cut you open too.”

It takes the wind out of his anger and he lets out a curse. The brakes screech as he stops at the side of the road, nearly catapulting them forward with the force of it. Jason finally turns to look at Danny properly. The boy peels down his t-shirt to reveal a gnarly, ugly red Y-shaped scar as he gulps.

“Ric doesn’t know,” he says as he releases the hem of his shirt, covering the scar once more. “I haven’t told him.”

“Then why me?” Jason’s voice rises without his consent.

“Because you’ll get it,” the boy murmurs. “How it feels to die.”

The boy leans back, turning away from Jason to look at the corn field.

“How it haunts you.”

Jason wants to puke and he lets his forehead fall onto the steering wheel.

“Fuck,” he says emotionally and the boy laughs — broken and hysterical. Jason doesn’t comment on the tears streaming down Danny’s face.

Jason starts up the car again, leading the car back on the road.

“Next time Dick asks for my help, I’ll send him to hell.”

Jason hides a smile when the boy snorts at that.

Dick comes to himself as they are about to cross the border into Amity Park. Jason and Danny are quietly talking and he wipes away a little bit of drool as he sits up. It’s dark outside and Danny directs Jason as they enter the city. He leans forward as he enters the conversation.

“You’ll think the GIW’s detectors will sense us?”

Danny glances at Jason, before he turns his attention to Dick.

“We should be fine for a few hours at least as long as I don’t have to turn ghost,” he says. “Half of the town is liminal at this point so you and Jason shouldn’t raise any alarms either. They had too many false alarms in the months since you left.”

Jason looks at Dick strangely once they park where they can hide for the night.

“Since when did you have contact with Lazarus Pits?”

“Never,” Dick retorts. “But living above a portal to the Infinite Realms for a year will do the trick.”

Jason's face scrunches up.

“Who the hell builds a portal in their own basement?”

Both Dick and Danny snort.

“Gotta love Mom and Dad,” the boy says as Dick nods in agreement. “Only they are insane enough.”

Dick makes a face.

“I could do without reanimated meatloaf for the rest of my life though.”

“Don’t remind me,” Danny shudders.

Jason stares at them in bafflement.

“You do know how crazy that sounds?”

“Crazier than Ghosts?” Danny questions with a smirk and Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head

“To give it to Mom and Dad they did stop storing samples in the fridge after we lectured them about it,” Dick adds. At Jason's aghast face he just shrugs. “They are passionate about their work.”

“Insane, absolutely insane,” the man mutters and Dick suppresses a smile.

It had taken him a bit to get used to the Fenton's and their flavor of insanity and chaos. At first he had been worried about them being neglectful at best, but it turns out that they just needed someone to remind them when they got into “hyperfixation” mode. He and Jazz had to stage an intervention and both Maddie and Jack were embarrassed once they realized they took it too far. Dick doesn’t know who is worse — them or Tim when he’s awake for more than three days.

He was very relieved when his initial hunch didn’t turn out to be true after Danny revealed himself as Phantom to his parents. They did a whole 180 on their research, focusing on learning about the intricacies of the Infinite Realms, their culture and even politics instead — resigning from their high positions in the GIW. That’s when the trouble really started.

Dick hadn’t lied about getting amnesia after he was shot and it was also true that his memories had only returned — thanks to Frostbite — two months ago. But the only reason he went back to Gotham had been to get Danny help (the longer they waited the worse the situation with the GIW became) — to find out if the Justice League could be trusted. Once he heard what happened with Freakshow and the Reality Gauntlet (and had the memories to properly realize what that meant) he had been horrified. He had given himself a deadline to — if need be, confront the Justice League by the time Danny’s birthday came around and find out the truth. (He had desperately hoped that this was all a misunderstanding, but Bruce’s words still taste bitter on his tongue.)

Dick knows bringing Jason along was a risk — considering Danny’s theory that the Lazarus Pit were corrupted ectoplasm, but they need the manpower to get through the GIW’s defenses. Even if he’s scared shitless about what they’ll do to Jason when they find out just how liminal he is. He knows this is a death mission. But it doesn’t have to be for Jason.

“We need to establish some ground rules,” Dick says reluctantly and Jason narrows his eyes at the wording.

“If we get captured, I want you to save yourself, Jason.” Jason scoffs and Dick raises a hand, silencing his retort before it can come. “I’m the sole reason you got involved in the first place. Me and Danny may be willing to die for them, but I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself for something that isn’t even your problem to deal with.”

“If you think I’m gonna agree to those, you are more than stupid than I thought Dick,” Jason’s voice is scathing. “It started being my problem when you came to me for help and we drove for 12 straight hours to get there. If you say those people are your family — then they are mine as well.”

His lips perk into a smirk.

“Besides, I want to meet the people that might be even more batshit insane than B and got you to call them Mom and Dad.”

Dick flushes slightly — the Fenton’s had always insisted on him calling them Mom and Dad and he doesn’t know when the titles became genuine. Even with his memories restored, Ric Fenton feels more alive — more loved — than Richard Grayson ever did.

Danny just shrugs as he leans back, arms crossed behind his neck and feet rested on top of the glove box.

“I guess I have not only two sisters but two older brothers now,” he adds cheekily.

“Brat.”

Jason playfully shoves Danny and Dick gapes at the fond tone in his voice.

“How?” he stammers — they should barely know each other. “When?”

Jason tucks Danny into his side, angle a bit awkward, but grinning as he ruffles his hair.

“You missed a lot, sleeping beauty,” Jason jests and Dick groans.

“I was only asleep for 1 hour!” he bemoans.

“Two,” Danny corrects and Dick glares at him, raising a finger.

“Don’t you two dare gang up on me!”

“This is sweet revenge for when you and Jazz teamed up against me,” Danny grins.

“We were literally trying to help you!” Dick complains, shoving Danny’s face away as the boy cackles, Jason watching on with amusement.

Dick might have to leave Ric Fenton behind for good now that his two worlds have collided, but maybe he can still be Richard “Dick” Grayson-Fenton instead.

#dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #this went out of hand #and got a lot angstier than I expected #would anyone believe me this was supposed to be funny?#danny fenton #dick grayson #jason todd #batfamily #batfam #good parents jack and maddie #bruce isn't a bad parent in this btw #just can't communicate properly for the life of him #part one #yoonjae20 writing #yoonjae20 #ric fenton au

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shikiii-skadi · 9 months ago

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Achievement Unlocked: Pet the Grim

SUMMARY: after Idia told you that he would help you with your alchemy project if you get Grim to let him pet him, you immediately went and did just that.

NOTE: inspired by Idias line "If you want help with questions, get Mr. Grim to let me pet him. Then we'll talk." from his labwear card

WARNINGS: none

NAVIGATION: Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

Your grades didn't look too good in some subjects, thanks to the fact that you were sharing your student spot with a gluttonous cat weasel monster, who preferred to cause trouble rather than study properly for your tests.

Professor Crewel made it very clear when he handed you the assignments for this project in Alchemy that you and Grim can't afford to get a bad grade if you want to pass this semester smoothly.

So it was up to you to find a way to make sure you did.

"Grim, listen. I know you hate being compared to a cat but think about it. Just let Idia pet you for a moment and he will help us with the alchemy project."

"WHAT? Are you kidding? Let that weirdo pet me?! Pfft, forget it! No way I'm lettin' Idia anywhere near me."

Grim, who like so often couldn't see the bigger picture, was fiercely opposed to your suggestion, even after you've been trying to change his mind for a while now.

"What other options do we have? I love Ace and Deuce but they are struggling just as much as we do. If not more," you said trying to make Grim see reason. But in the end, this was probably a waste of energy because Grim still didn't grasp the gravity of your situation. Grim thought he could easily achieve a good grade and that you two weren't actually that bad.

It looked like you had to use your last trump card.

"It's just one small pet. And who knows maybe you deserve an extra portion of tuna after bringing home a good grade in this project, which we probably only get with Idia's help."

You could see Grim starting to ponder as you said this. "Hmph! You make a compelling argument. ...Alright, fine. I'll let that weirdo touch me. But only ONE pet! That's it! And the extra tuna is non-negotiable!"

“Oh, Grim, I knew I could count on you," you said, although you were referring more to his hunger than him as person.

With this small victory secured, you immediately headed for Ignihyde, before Grim had the chance to change his mind and run away again.

When you arrived in Ignihyde, you were immediately welcomed by Ortho, who told you that Idia was in his room. You didn't really expect Idia to be somewhere else anyway. Was he even able to leave his room?

Ortho also told you that you should just enter Idia's room if he doesn't answer.

"Idia!" you say after opening the door to announce your presence.

"GAH!!" Idia lets out a nervous yelp as his room was suddenly invaded, and the source of the "attack" being... you. "W-what happened to knocking first?!"

"Oh, come on, don't be a drama queen. Ortho told me I should just come in," you reply and enter his dorm room, while Grim stays outside, "But let's not get hung up on this. There is a reason I came to see you. Can you remember our deal? You told me you would help me with this alchemy project if I get Grim to let you pet him."

He groans and crosses his arms. "Ugh... you didn't forget... Did you seriously find a way to get Mr. Grim to let me pet him? He always gets angry whenever I bring it up."

You nod, before turning to the door and calling out to your furry companion. "Grim! Come inside."

Grumbling could be heard before Grim walked into Idia's room. Grim definitely didn't look happy. It looked like this was his walk of shame of to his execution. He really didn't want Idia to pet him, but the prospect of tuna kept him going.

Idia stared at Grim in disbelief, his mouth agape, before turning to you. "Y-You actually got him to listen to you? H-How did you get him to even move?? I swear, he acts like I'm trying to murder him or something!"

“Tuna usually works wonders for him.”

"Alright, let's get this over with. You better make sure that your hands are washed properly before you touch the Great Grims fur! And just one pet. That's it!" Grim said, crossing his arms and looking away while waiting for Idia to pet him so he could get the tuna you promised him.

With the speed of light Idia runs to the bathroom to wash his hands. Honestly, you have never thought he could move that fast.

After returning he walks up to the cat monster, carefully raising his hands. "Don't worry, my hands are as clean as they could ever be. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I'm not messing this up!"

He reaches out and finally pets Grim on the head. You watched as a wide smirk formed on Idia's blue lips before he let out that giggle of his, that could only be described as unsettling. "Whee hee...! I can't believe I unlocked the ultra-rare achievement 'Pet the Grim'."

Meanwhile, while Idia looked like he had the best day of his life, Grim only begrudgingly endured Idia's pet.

"There, the petting session is over. You got what you wanted," Grim said jumping away from Idia, before turning to you, "Now where's my extra tuna?!"

"Stop thinking with your stomach for once, Grim," you answered scolding him slightly before you addressed Idia, "So will you help me with the alchemy project now?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can help you with that alchemy project. But don't expect me to do all the work. Got it? I'm not carrying you the whole way!"

A bright smile formed on your lips when you heard Idia say that. You are overjoyed that your plan worked and that Idia is now going to help you and Grim, which hopefully saves you two from failing your class. "I wouldn't expect you to. We'll be doing our best!"

Idia could feel the tips of his hair turning pink when he saw your reaction. "What an absolut cinnamon roll reaction...," he mumbled.

Before you could ask him to repeat what he said, because you didn't understand him, Grim suddenly raised his voice.

"I want my extra tuna-!!"

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst fanfic #twst fic #twst imagines #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #idia shroud imagine #idia shroud fanfic #idia shroud fic #idia imagines #idia x mc #twst grim

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little-jana · 3 months ago

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"Hearts at War"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader, Aaron Hotchner x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: Light rivalry, a bit of jealousy, and lots of pining, but ultimately fluff, no throuple thingy, just one of them at the end wins her heart, kissing

Summary: When a brilliant and captivating new agent joins the BAU, both Hotch and Reid find themselves drawn to her. Their attempts to impress her quickly escalate into a silly little competition.

a/n: This was requested and so fun to write! Enjoy!

The BAU had welcomed new team members before, but something about you changed the dynamic in ways none of them expected.

For one, you were effortlessly charming, intelligent, and sharp-witted. You had an impressive track record, a knack for profiling, and a personality that made even the most grueling days in the field feel lighter.

But most importantly, you had unknowingly done the impossible—you had both Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid completely, utterly enamored.

At first, it was subtle.

Spencer would linger by your desk longer than necessary, rambling about case files or psychological theories, his voice slightly faster than usual. Hotch, on the other hand, would offer small smiles (which for him was practically beaming), and his usual professionalism would crack just enough to reveal something softer whenever you were around.

And then, without either of them realizing, it escalated into a full-blown rivalry.

It started on a case in Chicago. The team had just arrived at the precinct, and you were setting up in the briefing room when the first incident occurred.

“I, uh, brought you coffee,” Spencer said, setting a cup in front of you, his ears tinged red. “You take it with two sugars and a little bit of cream, right?”

You blinked, touched by the gesture. “Oh! That’s so sweet of you, Spencer. Thank you.”

Spencer beamed—until a second cup of coffee was set down beside it.

“I already got her one,” Hotch said, his tone neutral but his expression just smug enough to be noticeable.

You looked between the two cups, then up at the two men staring at you expectantly. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

“Well,” you said awkwardly, “looks like I’m going to be very caffeinated today.”

You took a sip of Hotch’s first (because it was closer), and Spencer narrowed his eyes at his boss like a cat who just had its favorite seat stolen.

And that was the moment Derek Morgan realized what was happening.

“Oh, this is good,” Morgan whispered to JJ as they watched from the other side of the room.

It didn’t stop at coffee.

Hotch started offering to drive you to crime scenes more often, opening doors for you, and giving you extra time to present your insights during briefings.

Spencer, not to be outdone, made it his mission to impress you with facts he thought you’d find interesting, bringing you books he insisted you’d love, and subtly making sure he was always the one sitting next to you on the jet.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the team picked up on it.

“Okay,” JJ said one afternoon, watching as Hotch and Spencer subtly (or not so subtly) hovered near your desk. “Are we all seeing this?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Morgan grinned. “They’re both smitten.”

Garcia gasped dramatically. “Is our resident genius and our fearless leader competing for the same woman?!”

“Looks like it,” Rossi smirked, clearly enjoying the show.

“And who do we think is going to win?” JJ asked.

“That,” Morgan said, watching as Spencer tried to one-up Hotch’s impressive legal analysis with an even more impressive psychological breakdown of the unsub, “is the million-dollar question.”

The competition reached its peak on a quiet Friday night at the BAU offices.

Most of the team had gone home, but you, Spencer, and Hotch were still reviewing files when the power went out due to a storm.

“Looks like we’re stuck here for a bit,” you sighed, stretching your arms.

Hotch, ever the leader, immediately took charge. “I’ll call maintenance and see if they have an estimate for restoration.”

Spencer, on the other hand, saw this as the perfect moment. “You know,” he started, pushing up his sleeves, “since we’re waiting, I could teach you some magic tricks. I don’t think I’ve ever shown you my sleight of hand illusions.”

You grinned. “That sounds fun.”

But before Spencer could reach into his pocket for a deck of cards, Hotch returned. “It’ll be at least an hour,” he said, before casually adding, “In the meantime, I have some MREs in my office if you’re hungry.”

Spencer gaped at him. “You’re trying to impress her with military rations?”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “She likes survival tactics.”

“That doesn’t mean she wants to eat vacuum-sealed beef stew, Hotch!” Spencer argued.

“I appreciate both of your offers,” you interrupted, thoroughly amused. “But, um… I think I’ll just have a granola bar.”

Neither of them looked particularly satisfied with that answer.

The storm raged on outside, but inside the BAU, a different kind of storm was brewing.

It was Rossi who finally pushed you toward making a choice.

“You do know what’s going on, right?” Rossi asked one afternoon while you were reviewing a case file at your desk.

You sighed. “Oh, I know.”

“And?”

You hesitated. “I care about both of them. A lot.”

“But one of them more?”

You looked down, biting your lip. The answer was already there—you’d just been afraid to say it.

That night, as the team was leaving for the weekend, you found the person you really wanted to be with.

And when you walked up to Spencer Reid, gently tugging his tie and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips in the dimly lit hallway…

Hotch, watching from his office, simply sighed, shook his head, and muttered, “I should’ve gone with magic tricks.”

Morgan, who witnessed everything, burst into laughter. “Oh man, I love this team.”

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glitterjay · 11 months ago

Note

hi! do you write threesomes? can you write about y/n with hee and won?

⭒ threesome, exhibitionism(?, dom!heeseung, virgin!jungwon, switch!reader, pet names, smut under cut minors dni

⭒ c's note: i do write threesomes but i cant promise im good at them, hehe. im also doing my permanent taglist all over again, so if you'd like to be in it shoot me an ask or leave a comment :] also, this is all over the place so im sorry if it sucks

⭒ taglist (open): @hollyoongs

having one of your boyfriend's dearest friends watching as you got your pussy eaten out was definitely something new.

heeseung had been talking about how one of his friends, jungwon, had been getting more and more curious about the active sex lives of those in his friend circle, and to his luck, heeseung was one of his closest friends.

he had been talking with you about inviting him over some day to watch you guys do your thing, and you agreed because why not? but you didn't think it would be such a turn on like this.

you could see him through your peripheral vision as he tried to look everywhere but the bed in front of him. how his hands tried to frantically cover the very noticeable bulge under his sweats, and how he threw his head back every time you moaned heeseung's name into the air.

your boyfriend had been talking about inviting jungwon over to see the both of you do the deed. something about jungwon starting to look for hookups thanks to the influence of other friends (jake). and since heeseung was the closest one to him, why not teach him a few lessons?

your body jolted and shook as you started nearing your first high. your right hand landed perfectly on heeseung's hair to pull it, as your body arched hard and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. gasps were leaving your mouth as you came in your boyfriend's face, thanking the heavens for giving you a man with a skilled tongue like his.

"and that, won, is how you eat a girl out." he said, cleaning his chin with the back of his hand as he smacked your sensitive bud with the other, the gesture made your body shake again, a loud moan echoing the room.

the boy that was painfully sitting in a chair next to yours and heeseung's bed seemed to have his hand deep inside his sweatpants, probably trying to release some of the tension his poor cock was feeling.

"now, darling, why don't you help our special guest? hmm?"

you could see the way jungwon's face reddened even more, but his hand didnt seem to leave his dick at all. you nodded and with heeseung's help, you made it over to where the other boy was sitting. you knelt between his open legs, and asked if it was okay to touch him. the cat like boy in front of you looked over at your boyfriend for approval, who nodded in response, and mocked the same gesture.

you grabbed the hem of his sweats and boxers together, and pulled them down as fast as you could. the sudden cold air of the room made jungwon moan as it hit his sensitive member. it seemed like he was suffering a lot from the amount of precum leaking from his tip, and how hard and red it looked.

"she will help you, jungwon. trust me, her head is just as good as mine is."

you took that as your queue to go. your hand wrapped around jungwon's rock hard cock and started moving up and down. his eyes rolled to the back of his face as he threw it back in the chair, staring at the ceiling with teary eyes. it was definitely a different sensation than his own hand, and it was filling his head with clouds.

you spat on his tip, your saliva mixing with his precum before taking him in with your mouth. the sensation felt so ridiculously delicious to him that you had felt his cock twitch already. heeseung was seeing everything from the bed, his own clothes now gone and his cock in hand.

he got up from where he was sitting, pushing your head further into jungwon's dick. this made the other's body shake in response, his head shot up, wide eyes looking down at heeseung's hand on the top of your head, keeping you in place. "breathe through your nose, darling. take it in like a good girl."

the scene seemed to be taken out of the porn videos jungwon had watched on his own, and fuck was it hot. it was enough for him to cum in your mouth. heeseung was able to tell his friend was done by the change in pitch of his voice, letting go of your head to let you breathe. your own head shot up, mixtures of saliva and cum running from the corners of it as you gasped for air.

"i will let you stuff her whole, won. but no funny business. either you cum outside or you dont get to cum at all, understood?"

and thats how your body was being used by your boyfriend and one of his closest friends. jungwon was taking instructions from a very calm heeseung who had his cock fucking your face. your head was running to the verge of insanity. the third party was definitely hitting the right spots for it to be his first time. but yet again, he was being led by heeseung. there was no one that knew your body better than him.

"taking two cocks at a time, nobody's having it like you are, baby" heeseung cooed, ramming his hips harder and faster, the way he moved your entire body with his force was enough to have you fucking back into jungwon, who was having the time of his life. you hummed when you felt your boyfriend's dick twitch, the vibrations helping him cum.

the taste was sweeter than jungwon's, probably because you were used to it already. heeseung pulled out, quickly kissing your forehead. it was a pleasant view seeing his friend taking your pussy from behind, but he knew nobody could make you feel the way he did, so there wasnt much to worry.

"fuck jungwon... try to hit that same spot again." you said, your hand intertwined with heeseung's for moral support. the way his own name rolled of your sweet tongue made jungwon twitch yet again. he was fast to find that spot that had you seeing starts and cussing out loud, body coming to it's second orgasm of the day.

your walls felt empty when jungwon pulled his dick out, ropes of white cum landing on the bedsheets. he didnt want heeseung coming for him, although he would've loved to cum inside.

you were exhausted to say the least, and heeseung was more than welcome to take care of you for doing such a good job. not without praising jungwon as well, telling him he was ready to go make girls cum on his own. but if he felt like needed more practice, the both of you were available any time. and to be honest, you hoped he came back again.

#— ✿ c's work!#enhypen #engene #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #kpop #hard hours #kpop smut #enhypen heeseung #heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen jungwon #jungwon smut #enhypen jungwon smut

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anonymous-existences · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter 2 : Laying Low

Continuation to the Prolouge and Chapter 1

This was bad, very bad. For some... Reason. The Fenton's figured out who Phantom is and they think Phantom is overshadowing Danny.

Danny was panicking and packing the rest of his belongings fast as Vlad tries to stop Maddie and Jack from busting in to get to Danny. Dan was helping him whilst trying to calm Danny down.

"I'm scared... I'm so scared." Danny just slowly stated as tears rolled down his cheeks trying to catch up on his breathe.

"Shh, shh. It's gonna be alright kid. Look. We'll get out of here right now. I got our passports. Our- everything we need basically." Dante carried his duffle bag and the spare suitcase that carried Dante's items. "Now let's go!" Dante Yelled and carried Danny like a kitten before running out the backdoor.

They could hear Maddie yelling and Vlad Clapping back hesitantly but effectively, his paren— no.... Maddie and Jack was trying to reason with Vlad saying Danny was possesed and they needed to kill the Phantom within him.

Danny just covered his ears trying to shut out the noise as Dante put on his helmet and Making Danny wear one as well, Dante puts Danny Infront of him in the bike and Drove off with their Things.

Dante was obviously breaking the law with how Fast he's going but he couldn't bring himself to slow down. Not when the GIW might chase after them any moment they find out Danny is with Dante.

"It's gonna be okay twerp.... It's gonna be fine." Dante tries to reassure Danny, Danny just.. cried and covered his face trying to muffle his ugly sobbing. "I'm scared... I'm so scared..." Danny cries out and just kept very still in his seat.

Soon later they arrived at the airport and Danny has stopped crying as Dante has reassured him, they rushed inside and was quickly escorted by the staff to the so called "private jet" Vlad has prepared for them in advance.

"Are you ready? Are you okay?" Dante kneeled Infront of Danny to match his height, oddly enough he had this very rare worried face.

Danny merely nods and held Dan's Hand, they entered the plane and Dante made sure that Danny was settled in safely.

'It still feels so sudden... It's as if I haven't been planning to do this for ... Weeks.' Danny thought to himself as he stared out the window of his seat.

'Jazz would've wanted me to... Be free .. Right... She would have wanted this.' He whispered to himself as the plane slowly rose and started to fly to their headed direction.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

As they landed to their destination, Dante woke Danny up.

"Danny. we're here." Danny slowly fluttered his eyes open. "Oh?.... Oh okay..." Danny meekly said with a yawn. Dan just carried him like a cat once again whilst getting their bags.

"You can go back to sleep." Dante reassured him as Danny fell back asleep in his arms. Danny felt safe, warm... And comforting. It made his core purr in happiness.... He likes it..

Dante called them a lift as they moved in to a decent sized apartment near Crime Alley. The place already had furniture as Vlad promised. Dante tucks Danny in bed and heads off into the living room to unpack their things.

Dante started dialing Vlad's number.

"Fruit loops."

"Yes ... Big Badger?" Vlad sighs tiredly

"We arrived safely, Danny is off to sleep. He's tired. Do I need to find a job? How did dealing with those 2 crazy fuckers go?"

"Slow down... Yes you need to find a job so no one would get suspicious, Maddie and Jack I managed to stir off of my property finally. Ellie says she'll visit soon when the GIW stops looking for phantom... Sort of." Vlad reassures Dante.

Dante sighed, Annoyed, Stressed and totally Irritated.

"I'm gonna go find some criminals to beat up." Dante started before hanging up on Vlad who was about to complain about what he was about to do but Dante can't care at all about what the old Fruitloops has to say. He had to blow off his steam somehow and heads out of the apartment leaving Danny alone.

Danny had Ghost Blobs Covering him, vibrating to keep him warm like bees and Snuggled beside him to keep him asleep and rested.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Red Hood suddenly felt odd, not in an odd bad way but in an odd easing way.

He looked around his turf continuing his patrol before he heard Grunting. Not a good type... Ugh.

It was someone getting beat up, he doesn't usually meddle with this type of stuff but something within his chest... The pits was being pulled in.

Jason ran. More like bolted to whatever was pulling him in. Because whatever it is, it silenced the Pits, it made the pits quiver in fear.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Heh, Serves you right Mother fucker."

Dante laughed as he finished beating up a guy who tried to Assault a Worker. He dusted his hands and he is so glad he brought his mask and Cap with him because he wasn't prepared for Red Hood of all people to find him.

Dan just tried to keep composes as the Worker he saved ran off safely.

"Who are you." Red Hood Asks Sternly hand in his waist ready to pull out his gun, Dan tries to keep himself away from this situation.

He really Oughtta keep himself out of trouble, his luck is just far too unlucky for this to happen.

"Name's Dante... Just beat up this fucker for trying to kidnap a woman is all..." Dante chuckled to himself, very mentally uncomfortable but physically trying to stay calm.

"You're not from here aren't ya. Don't you know where you are?" Red Hood's tone didn't lose it's Stern but it softened a bit.

Odd, Dante was sure it was said that he can be very violent to his trespassers, he guesses Red Hood is just having a good day.

"No Sir Red Hood, I apologize if I entered your Hau- I mean.. Territory by accident." Dante apologizes, not sincerely but he made sure he sounded like it.

Oh. Now that Dante is looking at Red Hood much clearly and focused, He feels weird... His core is unfinished... Sort of.. there's this weird thing inside of him, Corrupted Ectoplasm? Ew.

Dante made a Disgusted look under his face mask, lucky enough that red Hood doesn't noticed because of Dante covering half his face except his eyes. But now that Dante observes more.

This guy isn't a Halfa. Sort of a Halfa but not all. What does Frostbite say it is?... He tries to remember the Term for it. Ah yes...

Red Hood is-

"A Revenant?" Dante blurts out by accident, his eyes flashing green with red gradient for a moment making Red Hood Stand Stunned.

"Pardo-" Red Hood tries to talk but Dante just Bowed his head and interrotuped him.

"I apologize again Sir Red Hood for entering your Haunt, but I really need to go, I won't do it again. I can't promise much because there are a lot of dick heads around here but do excuse me. I have better things to do." Dante said quickly but also sarcastically as he turned and bolted.

"WAIT!" Red Hood tries to chase after him but Dante Went Invisible as he turned to a corner.

"What the-" Red Hood was confused. Where did he go?

It made Dante chuckle mentally as he floated away and headed back to their new apartment.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

'What the fuck just happened.' Jason thought to himself confused, very confused infact as the strange and oddly Hot mysterious man just disappeared out of thin air... Like a ghost.

He needed to find that man again. Possibly ask him on a date- who KNOWS. But he needed to find him again.

The pits acting incredibly terrified and tame Infront of him was enough to get Jason Curious and... Oddly Calm.

"Maybe I should ask Timbers for help. I didn't catch his name... And what is a revenant?" He asked himself and scratched the back of his nape in frustration.

Hopefully he can still meet that Guy again... His eyes though.

They looked like the Lazarus Pits and that wasn't good. It didn't sit right with Jason and it honestly never will.

KMS. AAAA MY HANDS. Anyways I'll be writing chapter 3 later <33 cuz I'm insane like that.

Hope you like this chapter.

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caspiansinclair · 5 months ago

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A LIST OF TFC KANDREW QUOTES/CRUMBS (i love them. i probably missed a good amount since this was from a light skimming through):

- to andrew: “you already have kevin”

- “[andrew] said he’d break his fingers if Coach ever made him play with kevin again.” “but he’s playing now?” “only because kevin is. kevin got back on court with a racquet in his right hand, and andrew wasn’t far behind. up until then they were fighting like cats and dogs. now look at them. they’re practically trading friendship bracelets and i couldn’t fit a crowbar between them if it’d save my life.” “but why? andrew hates kevin’s obsession with exy.” “the day they start making sense, let me know. i gave up trying to sort it all out weeks ago. you could ask, but neither of them will answer. but as long as i’m doling out advice? stop staring at kevin so much. you’re making me fear for your life.” “what do you mean?” “andrew is scary territorial over him. he punches me in the first time i said i’d like to get kevin too wasted to be straight.”

- “andrew was only here because kevin day never went anywhere alone.”

- about andrew: “he has only eyes for kevin”

- ‘“look at me,” andrew said. kevin turned a haunted at him… “it’ll be fine,” andrew said. “i promised, didn’t i? don’t you believe me?” it took a while, but at last kevin visibly relaxed. the dead edge melted out of his eyes as he absorbed every ounce of strength andrew could give him. the unwavering trust kevin had in andrew was amazing.”

- about andrew: “kevin needs him right now and that trumps whatever agreement you two had”

- “kevin had andrew to lean on”

- “i hate you.” “you don’t.” “how would you know?” “because if you did, andrew wouldn’t let you anywhere near me.”

- “andrew put his hand to kevin’s back and shoved him into the bedroom” (this one’s here for sillies.)

- “since kevin appears to be in the center of his (andrew’s) strange world”

- “this means andrew is keeping you, same as he kept kevin”

- “you’re the reason kevin’s going to stay with our team. andrew’s got kevin’s back, but you’ve got kevin’s attention. that makes you invaluable to andrew.”

- “kevin had to climb up andrew’s side to get to his feet after downing 13 drinks in an hour and a half”

- “Kevin was standing with Andrew inside the goal line, left hand out so Andrew could tug at his outer glove. Andrew undid the straps and peeled it off, then hooked it under his arm so he could take off Kevin's arm guard. He left Kevin's under-glove on, but unhooked the loop from Kevin's middle finger so he could slide the black cloth to Kevin's wrist. Kevin flexed his fingers slowly, staring at his scars, then turned his hand over and flexed his fingers again”

- “The look on Matt's face said he was just getting started, but Andrew stepped between them before Matt could go after Kevin again. Andrew was smiling and his stance was casual, but Matt knew better than to try his luck against the short psychopath. Matt took a step back, silently conceding the fight, and shot Neil a worried look. Kevin got to his feet behind Andrew and glared at Neil.”

#kandrew #all for the game #kevin day #kandreil #andrew minyard

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normanssurvivalsite · 1 year ago

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The Prince

(Alastor x prince of hell!reader)

"HOLLLLYYY FUCKING SHIT (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER WE ARE VISITING CHARLIEEEE" yelled your dad while bursting into your room.

You looked up at your dad startled.

"Thats great, but why are you yelling?" You asked while raising your eyebrow.

"BECAUSE WE ARE GOING NOW COME OOONNN" he continued yelling while taking your hand and dragging you out of your room and off you guys were to the Hazbin Hotel.

When you arrived your dad almost run in before you told him to tone it down he is still the king of hell who has to keep up a certain image.

This was your relationship in a nutshell. You were not at all like your father and older sister. You were calm and collected and were there to calm them down. And why you stuck with your dad? Because he was broken after your mother left and you kind of got stuck being his mental support.

You never blamed Charlie for leaving you had the chance you do that as well but you decided to stay.

Your dad entered the hotel and immediately hugged Charlie. You just calmly walked in after him.

"OOOHHHHHH YOU BROUGHT (Y/N)" yelled Charlie as well excitedly and gave you the same bone crushing hug your dad gave her earlier.

"Yeah...'m here...sis....cant...breathe" you tried to get a sentence out.

"OH yeah of course sorry"

"Its fine Im happy to see you Charlie" you smiled at her while dusting your button up shirt.

After this encounter Charlie introduced you to the rest of the residents including her girlfriend, who you were delighted to meat since Charlie always rented about her when you guys would talk.

But of course your dad managed to make that encounter awkward as well to which you just sighed a little.

Unbeknownst to you a certain radio demon had his eyes on you from the moment you entered. It was one thing that your attire was something he himself would wear and it suited your figure perfectly, quite old fashioned just like he liked it, but when he saw that seemingly you were the distinguished one in the family you have won his interest.

The way you held yourself with a straight back chin up, truly befitting a prince. He noticed that you seem to either calm down or hint to your father on how to act. It was a sight to behold for sure.

"And this here-" started Charlie nearing the stairs where Alastor appeared. "-oh, this is Alastor our beloved building manager"

"Its a pleasure to meet you sir quite the pleasure" said Alastor while shaking Lucifers hand and wiping it in his coat after.

Not paying a second more of his attention on your father he looked immediately to you.

"And this magnificent creature is the prince of hell himself I'm sure" he said while taking your hand and softly kissing your knuckles.

Your face got a bit read while he straightened back up eye contact never leaving.

"I am, it is a pleasure to meet you sir, I quite enjoy your radio podcast" you managed to get out after re-gaining your composure.

What you said was true, though. You enjoyed his brodcast, his voice, and interestingly enough your taste in music was similar, the jazz part at least.

Alastors eyes lit up at that.

"Indeed? Well I'm honored the prince of hell himself enjoys what I do, and please do call me Alastor." he smiled at you and took one of your hands in both of his while you guys just stared at each other.

"Should we do something ooor...?" Whispered angel to Husk.

However the cat was to stunned to speak. He has never seen Alastor act like this with anyone before. The radio demon was literally flirting with the prince of hell.

"WOOOOWWW ooookkkkk nononono lemme just...squeeze in here" said your father while standing between you and Alastor which was almost impossible thats how close you two stood to each other but he managed.

"If you don't mind I believe my daughter was about to show us the hotel so see ya later" said your dad hastily while pushing you away from the overlord.

"Oh, no, we built the hotel together we should show it together, right Charlie?" Grinned Alastor at the princesse

"...Ok"

"I wouldn't mind at all to show the lovely little prince around" he smiled at you and offered you his arm which you gladly took.

All this while Lucifer was glaring daggers at Alastors back as you two walked off chatting happily.

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

WOOOOOOWWWW LOOK AT ME POSTING AGAIN YEAAHHHHH WHAT CAN I SAY I HAVE A PROBLEM

And you bitches too I literally uploaded my Hazbin Hotel posts minutes ago and yall are eating it up already.

I mean ofc thank you sm for all the love (🥹🧡) but DAMN yall good? Anyone need a therapist?

Haha, just kidding...we all do.

ANYWAAAYSSS

I HAVE SOOO MANY MORE IDEAS AND I CANT WAIT TO WRITE THEM AND SHARE THEM WITH YOU GUYS.

I'm also thinking about writing a pt.2 for this so lemme know if yall would be interested😎

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies, gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and goodnight🧡🦖

#male reader #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader

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myzticbean · 8 months ago

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Cat!Dad Series: You're My "Maine" Squeeze

Edit update: I LOVE that this came around full circle with the latest cat!boi cards 🤣😎🔥

Pairing: Qin Che | Sylus / MC (fem! reader) Tags: Super fluff, established relationship, cute cats, domestic bliss Can also read at A03

Previous posts in the Cat!Dad series:

Zayne: Quit kitten around - let's celebrate

Title: You’re My “Maine” Squeeze

Wrapping my arms around Sylus, I rest my hands against the motorcycle’s tank as it rockets down the dark street. I slip a hand under his leather jacket as we both lean into the tight corner, disappearing into the condo’s underground private entrance. The motorcycles that had been following us blew past, unaware we had already made our getaway.

I laugh, a little giddy from the rush of adrenaline at the chase and successful escape (ahem, joyride), hugging his broad back and resting my helmet between his shoulder blades as he slows and parks the bike.

“I told you it would be fun,” Sylus says calmly after he pulls off his helmet. I tug mine off as well, my bun squished to my head and tangled flyaway hairs sticking to my face, but I know I’m still grinning from ear to ear.

“Another successful mission with my criminal mastermind partner,” I chuckle, shaking my hair out of the hair tie before throwing it back up into a ponytail. I swing my leg over and hop off the bike, and he stands as well, wrapping me in his arms in a quick hug.

We wear matching black leather jackets, my curb stomping boots laced up over black jeans, and a custom thigh holster holding my (not-quite-legal) gun. I lean into his embrace, lifting my face to smile smugly at him.

“Admit it, I definitely helped you a lot this time.”

“You literally started a fight and got us thrown out -- of my own club,” he answers sardonically, tightening his grip around my shoulders and waist. But he can’t hide the lip twitch of amusement and the softness in his gaze as he stares down at me.

“You needed to hire better help anyways,” I say airily, stepping out of his embrace and flicking a strand of my ponytail back over my shoulder saucily. “That they didn’t even recognize their boss…tut.”

“You do realize most people shouldn’t recognize me, otherwise it defeats the purpose of being the mysterious leader of an underground organization,” he responds dryly, locking the steering on his bike and grabbing the straps of our helmets in one hand.

“That they didn’t even recognize your dark, dangerous, and sensual aura and let you do whatever you wanted is just a crime against nature,” I answer cheekily. I open my mouth to continue my teasing despite his grimace, when the hissing and howling of cats interrupts me.

As we neared the elevators, I saw a couple of cats brawling, two smaller dark colored tomcats wrestling a dirty, fluffy, absolute monster of a cat. Even while clearly outnumbered, it was holding its own and about to turn the tide of the fight when another cat appeared, intent on jumping into the fray.

“Oh no,” I say, taking an unconscious step forward. I wasn’t sure how to intervene without getting scratched to holy hell when an empty can was suddenly thrown from behind, clattering as it pelted one of the dark cats on top.

It screamed, not that it was actually hurt, but more in surprise as it backed off of the giant cat on the bottom. Without waiting, the big cat sprang to its feet, roaring like a tiny lion and racing forward aggressively.

The tomcat didn’t bother waiting around to see if it could take the big cat on - it scrambled to its feet and raced away, the other cats following close behind. The bigger cat stopped, sitting on the ground in exhaustion, bloody scratch marks on its face, back and ears.

“You poor thing,” I murmur, squatting down to try to get a closer look. It would probably be pretty skittish, especially if it has been a feral, unneutered male used to roaming the streets of the N109 zone and surviving.

It turns to look at me at the sound of my voice, its tail flicking back and forth as it surveys me from where it sits on the cold concrete. “I wonder if he’ll let us take care of his wounds,” I say to Sylus who stands behind me, his hand propped casually on one hip as he looks between me and the cat.

“It’s a tom, probably not,” he answers.

“I tamed you,” I say a little tongue-and-cheek as I glance at him slyly over my shoulder.

“Hmm,” he hums thoughtfully. “I might argue it was the other way around, kitten.”

“Here kitty, kitty,” I whisper, flicking my fingers at him. I moved to kneel down on one knee, not moving closer, but holding my hand out in case he wants to come over for a sniff.

The cat didn’t deign to move closer, but also doesn’t seem afraid or inclined to scamper away from us. He just peers at me with intent yellow eyes, his fluffy tail flipping back and forth as if to lure me in with the promise of touching it.

I can’t help myself -- I shuffle forward a little bit, my hand still outstretched, wanting to see if he’ll let me get close enough to at least take a better look at his scrapes. He’s certainly not afraid - his watchful eyes are flickering all around.

“Look at this handsome boy,” I croon, voice pitched a little lower, trying to entice him to take a step towards me. I wish I had some food for him.

Sylus just sighs behind me.

“Ignore him, kitty,” I suggest, trying to stifle a giggle when I see the cat’s yellow eyes briefly dart behind me before locking back onto mine. “You are definitely the biggest, most handsome cat on the block. If you come juuuust a little closer, I want to make sure you haven’t been hurt.”

The cat yawns, his sharp teeth on full display before he licks his nose and gives me a blink.

“That’s right, big guy. You know I won’t hurt you.”

Sylus suddenly chuckles behind me. “Let’s do this a little quicker, shall we?” Without pausing, he activates his Evol, wrapping the cat in red and black swirls of color and lifting it into the air. It yowls in immediate displeasure, thrashing and kicking.

“Oh, don’t-” I try to say, before Sylus deposits it in my arms, though still wrapped up and held immobile by his power.

It freezes, looking up into my face, while I peer down at him. “It’s okay, kitty, I won’t hurt you,” I say soothingly. I resist the urge to pet it - it’s trapped and can’t escape, and my touch could do more harm than good. Instead I hold him close against me, cradling him gently in my arms as Sylus guides me towards our private elevator.

We ascend to the penthouse as I’m trying to look over his wounds - with his thick hair, it doesn’t seem like he sustained too much damage, but I wouldn’t be sure until I could investigate more thoroughly. He is, however, extremely dirty and covered in fleas, which I can see crawling through the dirty fuzz.

“He needs a bath,” I say, looking him over. “Do you think we should take him to a vet instead?”

Sylus scoffs quietly behind me as we enter our private floor. “I’ll make a call.”

“My rich boyfriend is so strong and powerful,” I laugh, walking further into the condo and heading towards the bathroom.

“Do we have any of that blue dish soap?” I call out as I settle the cat down in the shower. I need to grab a towel, and with Sylus’ Evol still activated, he won’t be able to move too much. I kick off my shoes and socks and grab a few fluffy dark towels from underneath the sink, whispering to the cat as I reach for one of the handheld shower heads. Since the shower is big enough for 10 people, the cat is safely outside of the spray as I test out the water and let it warm up.

“What a good boy you are,” I croon, kneeling down by the cat once the temperature has been adjusted, gently allowing the warm water to soak into his fur. The cat gives a grimace and gnashes his teeth, but otherwise doesn’t fight it.

“Yes, you’re so smart, what a sweet kitty you are. You were definitely going to win. It was three-on-one, and look how strong and brave you were…” I ramble on and on as I soak him from the neck down, gently carding my fingers through his fur to try to get him completely wetted.

Sylus walks in with a bottle of the dish soap, rolling his eyes a little at my running commentary. “I’m worried about you, sweetie,” he says lightly, squatting by the shower entrance and setting down the soap bottle.

“Hush,” I say, fighting back a smile as I throw a mock-glare over my shoulder. “Squeeze me,” I say, holding out one palm.

“I wish,” he mutters before he obliges, squirting a heaping handful of soap.

I soap my palms together and get to work, thoroughly (but gently) cleaning up the poor, battered cat. His cuts and scrapes aren’t bad, but I’m careful to avoid getting too much soap in those areas to avoid any stinging. I keep speaking to the cat, voice low and calm, and he doesn’t otherwise flinch at being doused in water and soap.

“I wonder if he was someone’s pet?” I question thoughtfully. “He’s too well behaved for a feral cat.”

Sylus just hums but doesn’t say anything, his Evol still containing the cat though it’s obvious the animal isn’t fighting it. I make sure to wash off as much of the dirt and fleas as I can, rinsing and repeating one more time, and the amount of dirt pooling beneath the two of us turned the pale gray tile completely black.

But as the cat emerges, clean and victorious, I’m astounded to see a pure white beauty in its majestic display. “He’s so handsome,” I gasp, gently drying him off with a soft towel.

“I know, you’ve already mentioned it many times,” Sylus says dryly, but the humor glinting in his ruby-colored eyes is obvious. “I always knew you’d be a cat person.”

“You call me kitten often enough, I thought it was obvious,” I say, smiling playfully.

It’s quiet again for a moment as I finish drying the cat off, before noting, “I don’t think he’s seriously hurt, but he had fleas and could use a check up.”

As if waiting for my remark, the doorbell chimes, announcing a visitor. I look over at Sylus, who has climbed to his feet and casually strolls out of the bathroom.

I reach out, cradling the cat in a new clean towel and exit the bathroom and into the living room where a man with a black kit is waiting for us. Without much expression and with almost no conversation, he takes the cat from my arms and begins his check up, and the cat -- who is still held by the black strands -- immediately begins to meow and scream non-stop.

“Oh, poor baby,” I whisper, clenching my hands but unable to help. I look on in concern, trying not to react as the impersonal vet quickly doctors the cat’s wounds and gives him a few shots.

“He’ll be fine in a few days. I’ve given him his vaccinations, and a pill that will help kill off the remaining fleas.”

“What kind of cat is he?” I ask, the cat looking even larger as the fur dries.

“I’d guess Maine Coon based on his size and features,” the vet says. “You can do a DNA test if you want to know for sure.”

“Will he get bigger or is he fully grown?”

The man lifted the cat’s lips, checking his teeth. “He’s a young cat, maybe still under a year old, so I would guess he’s still growing. Maine Coons can keep growing until they are around two years old.”

He gives me a few instructions on how to continue caring for the animal, and without much fanfare, leaves.

“Let’s let him free now,” I murmur to Sylus after setting him down on the floor. Sylus releases his Evol, and the cat slowly stands, taking a few steps and sniffing the air.

“He’s so cute,” I sigh, watching him tentatively explore his new surroundings.

“He better not pee on anything until we can get him neutered,” Sylus mutters. “We’ll never get the smell out.”

I reach out, wrapping my arms around his waist and nuzzling into his chest. “You’re so wonderful,” I say, content and a little tired. The doorbell rings again, and I lift my head off his chest to look up at his face, puzzled.

He motions for me to go, saying, “Get in the shower, I’ll get him settled. The twins brought some supplies.”

I smile in relief, giving him another squeeze, and silently beg for a kiss as I stand on my toes and lift my face. He cups my chin, brushing warm lips over mine in a chaste kiss. He gives me a second kiss on my forehead.

“Go on,” he murmurs. “I’ll join you soon.”

More than a week has passed since we rescued the cat. I’ve had to travel to and from Linkon for work, but Sylus never asks if I am going to take the cat with me or drop it off at the shelter. Instead, the cat seems to settle into the plush penthouse as if he had never lived a life on the outside, his kingly attitude right at home in the dark, romantic surroundings.

After arriving a little later than I expected, I put my overnight bag away in the bedroom before I grab one of the new cat toys lying about. It’s a stick with a feather dangling from a string, and I flick it around on the floor and up in the air, laughing aloud as the cat makes a daring leap trying to catch it.

“You can do it, Junior,” I cheer as he stretches out his paws, dagger-like nails exposed. Mephisto caws angrily in the corner, pacing back and forth on his stand as he watches the playful cat. They’ve been sassing each other all week, with the kitty missing chunks of hair and Mephisto decidedly more ruffled looking with mechanical feathers lying twisted on the ground.

The door opens and Sylus walks in just in time to hear me, raising his eyebrows as he comes towards me carrying a couple of shopping and garment bags.

“Please don’t tell me that name means what I think it means?” he sighs.

I start giggling and the cat takes a flying leap, tackling me to the ground. I ooph out a rush of air, his heavy body colliding with mine as I clutch him to my belly and roll backwards. Sylus drops the bags into the couch and strides over, grabbing the cat by the scruff of the neck and tossing him (somewhat gently) onto the coffee table. He reaches down, helping me to my feet as I fight off a giddy laugh.

“It’s exactly what you think,” I answer, a sly smile twisting my lips as I reach down to pat Junior on the top of his head, his large, fuzzy ears twisting to catch our voices. “He looks just like his daddy, after all…”

“I did not, in fact, sire a cat. But if my little kitten is so inclined to have her own litter, I could be persuaded.”

I burst out laughing, pushing at his shoulder (he didn’t budge). “I’m not ready for a baby right now. Baby making, however…”

His eyes glint in the light, strangely dark as he locks his gaze onto mine, tugging me closer and into a tight embrace. He leans down, nuzzling his face into my neck, arms wrapped around my waist. “Let’s go practice now,” he suggests, teeth nipping gently at my skin in blatant invitation.

I sigh, languid from the pleasure that courses up my spine as he trails long fingers down my back in a slow caress. He kisses me tenderly, tongue tracing the seam of my mouth before I open to let him in, our tongues pressing against each other in unhurried exploration. We’ve kissed hundreds of times, but each press of his lips to mine brings a fresh wash of affection and excitement.

I lift my arms to wrap around his neck, falling deeper into his kiss, but a demanding howl from the coffee table shatters the moment. I look down, meeting the irritated eyes of the cat staring back at me. “Sorry, Junior. You shouldn’t be watching mommy and daddy like this.”

Sylus stifles a long exhale before he reaches down, adjusting himself, and steps away back towards the bags. I follow along with interest, trying to peek into the bags, but he covers it up.

“You can open this one now,” he says, holding out a shopping bag. “I’ll show you the others later.”

I look with interest at the other handful of bags and garment bags, but don’t press. I’ve learned that any surprise from Sylus is well worth the wait. Instead, I tear open the bag and read the brand name on the box. “Evol CommuniCollar?” I question, looking up at him in surprise. “Aren’t these ridiculously expensive?”

He scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. “Maybe if you’re not me.”

I roll my eyes. “You are such a snob sometimes.” I eagerly read the description. “It says here that it can translate everything your pet says into human language. This is so cool!”

I sit down and start fumbling to open the box, tearing off the flap corners in my haste to get it open. “Oops, I hope we don’t need to return this,” I say. He looks completely unconcerned as he settles on the couch next to me, as Junior perches politely on the coffee table near my knee, tail swishing back and forth.

Reading the instructions, I open my phone and download the app as Sylus checks the battery charge on the collar. I fill in Junior’s information, noting his suggested breed and age in the settings. While Sylus isn’t watching, I set the AI voice to one of my favorite male celebrities that is (surprisingly) available in the list.

Sylus gently adjusts it around the cat’s neck, making sure his fur isn’t being pulled or tangled, and gives him a single pat on the head.

Junior is still watching Sylus and gives a tiny meow, and the collar suddenly beeps, a deep, masculine AI-voice is clearly projecting from the collar. “Father.”

I gasp, practically swooning on the couch. “He knows you’re his dad,” I squeal, covering my mouth to hide the huge grin. Sylus looks taken aback, one eyebrow raised as he stares down at the cat that is still looking up at him. He obviously recognizes the voice when I see his sidelong glance at me.

I hurriedly continue reading the instructions. “While animals may not experience the same family bonds, environmental stimulus, language or emotional capacity that humans do, they’ve been able to map the closest electrical triggers to feelings that we can understand.”

I laugh a little. “So I guess he knows you aren’t his birth father. Maybe you’re his step-dad.”

The kitty looks at me chuckling on the couch, attention flicking back and forth, and as he looks at me directly, he gives a single, long blink. “Wife.” The masculine voice is low and rumbly as he purrs a little.

My mouth drops open, and I don’t dare to look at Sylus. I’m trying desperately to stifle a cackle of mischievous delight, and I reach out to stroke my hand along his back.

“No,” Sylus says, reaching out to catch my hand. “Don’t reward him for bad behavior.”

“How is he being bad?” I ask, choking on my laughter. I’m trying not to cry, eyes welling up as I gasp for breath.

“This collar is defective. Let’s throw it away,” he says resolutely, reaching out a hand to unclasp the collar from the cat before I bat his hand away.

“Don’t you dare. This is priceless.” I try to be stern, but my quivering lips and definitely giving it away.

He looks slightly irritated but does take his hands away and folds his arms across his chest. I turn back to the cat, giving him a little scritch behind one fluffy ear, and he closes his eyes, rumbling in pleasure.

“Feels good. It’s itchy,” the cat collar says in its low, dulcet tones. “Wife. Wife.” The purrs get a little louder when I switch to the other ear.

“No, I’m your mom,” I correct, and the collar gives another little beep with tiny rumbling noises as if to translate what I said.

“No, not mother. Wife,” the cat collar responds, and the cat blinks up at me again, holding eye contact.

I cover my mouth to hide my laughter when I see Sylus stiffen up beside me. “No, I’m your mother. And this is your dad,” I say, pointing to Sylus. “I’m his wife.”

I pretend I don’t see Sylus whip his head around to look at me. I’m trying to make a point to a cat, and this is the easiest way to get it across. How would a cat understand human dating behavior?

The cat looks obviously disgruntled as the collar makes more translation noises. His tail lashes angrily back and forth, and he turns his head away from me, obviously not agreeing to my words.

I lean forward, giving him a little kiss on his forehead, ignoring his mew of unhappiness. “I love you so much, my handsome little guy. You’re the bestest boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m the best cat. Better than the bird,” the collar agrees, and the cat turns to nuzzle his head into my chin.

I pepper little kisses all over his cute little cat face. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, I’m hungry. I’d like dinner, please. I want the fish one. The wet food, not the crunch food.”

“Oh, you like the tuna more than the chicken? You should really eat the kibble too, it’s better for your teeth if you can eat some crunchy food,” I say, and we walk into the kitchen, chatting together.

Sylus leans back against the couch cushions, sighing as scrubs one hand over his face before climbing to his feet and going to store away the bags.

Junior and I chatter back and forth, his sentences slowly becoming longer and more in-depth the more the collar was used.

He finally finishes his food and I ask to gently wipe his face and whiskers with a clean towel, and he happily obliges, purring loudly as I clean him up. We walk together back into the living room, where Sylus has once more taken a seat on the couch, the fireplace crackling and the low throb of classical music coming from the record player.

“Father,” Junior murmurs, leaping onto the couch and then clambering into Sylus’ lap (uninvited, but also undeterred). I smile, nestling into his side as he raises an arm and pulls me in closer.

“Father, play with me. Play with me,” the cat begs, raising one paw and tapping it against Sylus’ chest.

I try to bite back a smile, shifting away slightly so I can quickly snap a photo. Sylus resigns himself, reaching down to flick one furry ear before he tugs gently at a whisker. The cat grows ever more exasperated as he tries to bat away Sylus’ hand, who snaps his fingers and conjures up a handful of black feathers dusting along Junior’s head and back.

“You wanted to play, and now you’re mad?” Sylus asks, listening to the cat muttering profanities (with the help of the collar) and hiding a small smile.

Finally the cat huffs and flops down, and the feathers immediately disappear. We both look down at the large cat stretching himself along the length of Sylus’ thighs, Junior’s head resting closer to his stomach. I reach out, giving him a scritch as I nuzzle into Sylus’ broad shoulder.

Sylus presses a tender kiss to my forehead as he sweeps one long-fingered hand down the back of the cat in a soothing, absent-minded stroke. He drops his head, feathering kisses across the bridge of my nose and cheeks, before pressing a deeper, sweeter kiss to my lips.

“So about that litter of kittens you mentioned…” I pull away to whisper into his ear as Junior finally settles and little snores start to emerge.

Activating his Evol, he carries that cat over to his bed, settling him into the cushions lightly while he stands and hefts me over his shoulder. “Practice makes perfect, sweetie,” he purrs, striding into the bedroom and shutting the door while I try to muffle my giggles.

Junior licks his lips, snuggling deeper into his bed and drifting off into an even deeper, satisfied sleep.

Cat image source

#love and deepspace #fanfiction #lads #sylus love and deepspace #fluff #cute cats #domestic fluff #sylus x you #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sylus #lads sylus

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moongirlcleo · 3 months ago

Text

Keeping Me Waiting is a Dangerous Game

Tags: Light Dom/Sub, Teasing, Oral, Hawks is a Little Shit, Spanking AN: Check out all of my works on AO3! -> | link

🔞NSFW content - Minors DNI🔞 Dividers: @/cafekitsune Fic: @moongirlcleo

You knew exactly what you were doing when you showed up late to your dinner date with Hawks. Lingerie shopping, making him wait, acting all innocent like you hadn’t planned every second of it. But oh, sweet thing, did you forget? Hawks is a patient man—until he isn’t. And now? Now he’s got you right where he wants you, and he’s about to remind you exactly why teasing the No. 2 Pro Hero is a very, very dangerous game.

You knew you were late. The steady tick of the clock, the unanswered calls, the messages that went from teasing to clipped—you’d ignored them all, dragging out your arrival like a game of cat and mouse. But Hawks? He wasn’t the type to chase.

He was the type to punish.

So when you finally sauntered into the dimly lit restaurant, your heels clicking against the tile with calculated ease, you weren’t surprised to find him already lounging at the private booth, one arm draped over the back of the seat, a nearly untouched whiskey glass in his other hand.

He looked up at you slowly, golden eyes glinting under the warm glow of the chandelier. And damn, if he didn’t make anger look good.

“Forty-three minutes.” His voice was smooth, too smooth. The kind of calm that sent a shiver down your spine, because you knew what it really meant. “I counted.”

You slid into the seat across from him, feigning innocence. “Oh? You didn’t start without me, did you?”

His smirk was lazy, but his fingers tapped against the rim of his glass—a measured rhythm, deliberate, restrained. “No, sweetheart,” he drawled, tipping his drink back for a slow sip. “That’d be rude.”

You hummed, reaching for the menu like you weren’t already walking on thin ice. “Good to know you have manners.”

The air between you crackled.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Hawks let out a slow, amused breath through his nose, but his stare never wavered. “Manners? Huh. That’s rich coming from someone who kept me sitting here like some regular guy waiting on a date.”

You bit back a smirk, acting as if you were mulling over your dinner choices. “Aren’t you?”

The sharp clink of his glass hitting the table made you jump, just a little. His smile didn’t waver, but the heat in his gaze turned molten, dangerous.

“Not to you.”

Your stomach flipped.

And just like that, the game was over. Because you might have thought you were in control, but Hawks? He was always three steps ahead.

And tonight, he was going to prove it.

You swallowed, feigning nonchalance as you reached for your water glass. But the way Hawks leaned in, predatory and patient, made it damn near impossible to ignore the simmering tension crackling between you.

“So,” you drawled, keeping your tone light, as if he wasn’t watching you like a hawk—literally. “Are you going to sulk all night, or are we going to enjoy our very late dinner?”

His smirk widened, slow and deliberate, before he leaned back, stretching one arm along the back of the booth, taking up space like he owned the damn place. “Oh, sweetheart,” he purred, golden eyes locked onto you. “I’m enjoying myself plenty.”

Your fingers tightened around your glass.

The bastard knew.

He knew you’d done this on purpose, knew exactly why you took your sweet time getting ready, why you ignored his texts, why you made him wait. And instead of snapping, instead of scolding, he was playing the long game—letting the anticipation coil tighter and tighter, because he knew you’d snap first.

Oh, hell no.

You leaned forward just slightly, letting the candlelight flicker over your skin, your smile teasing, syrup-sweet. “I don’t know, Hawks. You seem a little… tense.” Your foot slid forward under the table, the tip of your heel barely grazing his ankle. “You sure you’re enjoying yourself?”

His fingers drummed against the table once. Twice.

Then, in a movement so fast you barely caught it, he reached forward and plucked the menu straight from your hands, tossing it onto the empty seat beside him.

“You won’t need that.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He lifted his glass to his lips again, sipping lazily, as if he hadn’t just ripped your control straight from your grasp. “I already ordered for you.”

Your lips parted, irritation flaring hot in your chest. “Did you, now?”

“Mhm,” he mused, swirling his drink. “Figured after keeping me waiting, you shouldn’t get too many choices tonight.”

Your nails dug into your thigh beneath the table. Oh, he was good.

“Such a gentleman,” you muttered, leaning back against the booth, playing along—for now. “And here I thought you were mad at me.”

Hawks grinned, easy, lazy—dangerous. “Oh, I’m furious, sweetheart.” His voice dipped lower, dark amusement curling around the words. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Your breath hitched.

Then the waiter arrived, sliding a perfectly plated meal in front of you before disappearing just as quickly. You barely registered what it even was, too focused on the way Hawks was still watching you, still waiting.

You lifted your fork, twirling it between your fingers, refusing to be the first to break. “You really think you can control me, Hawks?” you mused, finally cutting into your food, lifting a small bite to your lips.

He didn’t answer.

Not at first.

Instead, he reached across the table, plucking the glass from your hand just as you were about to take a sip, setting it aside with a sharp clink.

Then, he leaned in, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, close enough that his breath brushed your ear when he spoke.

“I don’t think, sweetheart.” His voice was nothing but velvet and wicked promise. “I know.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Oh.

Oh, you were so fucked.

And dinner had barely started.

The restaurant was elegant—soft golden lighting reflecting off polished mahogany tables, delicate chandeliers casting a warm, intimate glow over the space. Low murmurs of conversation mixed with the faint clinking of silverware, a refined sort of atmosphere that didn’t quite match the electric tension at your table.

It was the kind of place reserved for whispered confessions, slow seductions, and the occasional stolen touch beneath crisp white tablecloths.

But Hawks?

Hawks was not in the mood for subtlety.

His fingers toyed with the rim of his glass, casual, but the sharp edge to his golden gaze betrayed him. He hadn’t stopped watching you—not since you waltzed in nearly forty-five minutes late, draped in smug satisfaction.

And why wouldn’t you be?

You’d made sure the wait was worth it.

The lacy undergarments beneath your dress were a secret only you knew for now—black, delicate, selected with the express purpose of testing Hawks’ patience. The matching garter hugged your thighs like a promise, and you made damn sure to take your time picking it out.

You could still hear the exasperated voicemails he left while you lingered in the dressing room, taking your sweet time deciding between lace and silk, purposefully sending teasing mirror snaps of ‘What do you think?’ with nothing but a sliver of fabric peeking out.

Oh, he had been livid.

And now?

Now, he sat across from you, all cool composure, all calculated restraint, but you could see it in the way his jaw ticked when you uncrossed your legs too slowly.

The way his grip tightened on his drink when you licked a stray drop of wine from your lips.

The way his wings twitched, ruffling ever so slightly, like they ached to move.

Yeah. You’d won the waiting game.

Or at least, you thought you had.

Until he leaned forward, elbow propped on the table, chin resting against his hand, that signature smirk curling at his lips.

“You know, sweetheart…” His voice was smooth, deceptively light. “It’s funny. While you were out prancing around, wasting my time, I was thinking.”

You tilted your head, feigning interest. “Oh? About what?”

His eyes gleamed, slow and knowing, like he knew exactly what he was about to do to you.

“How desperately you must have been craving my attention,” he mused, tapping his fingers against the table. “Going through all that effort. Lingerie shopping? Really? That’s just adorable.”

Your stomach flipped.

He knew.

Your composure nearly cracked, but you smirked through it, lifting your wine glass in a slow toast. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself, bird boy,” you teased. “I was just treating myself.”

His smirk widened. “Sure you were.”

Then, before you could react, his foot slid forward under the table, pressing against your ankle, traveling up.

Higher.

The heat of his touch ghosted over your calf, slow, deliberate. It was nothing—barely anything—but in a place like this, in a moment like this, the teasing pressure sent a bolt of heat straight through you.

Your fingers tightened around your glass.

Hawks tilted his head, utterly unbothered, dragging his foot back down in a slow retreat, only to slide it right back up again.

“So, tell me,” he drawled, watching you intently. “What’d you end up picking out, huh? Silk? Lace?” His foot nudged against your knee, subtle but wicked. “Something easy to rip off?”

Your breath hitched.

The waiter arrived at that exact moment.

Hawks leaned back as if nothing had happened, smiling pleasantly at the poor, unsuspecting server while you struggled to pretend you weren’t feeling burning hot all over.

“Anything else I can get for you?” the waiter asked politely.

Hawks’ grin was too sharp. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”

You exhaled slowly, willing the heat in your face to not betray you.

This man.

You had been so confident walking in here. Smug. Prepared.

And yet, somehow—

Hawks had flipped the game entirely.

And by the way his eyes darkened, by the way he watched you shift in your seat, by the way his tongue flicked out to wet his lips—

You knew this dinner was going to be anything but ordinary.

And you were utterly at his mercy.

ou should have seen this coming.

The moment you walked through those restaurant doors, Hawks had already planned your downfall. And now, with the air between you humming with tension so thick you could taste it, you were forced to sit through the slowest, most torturous dinner of your life.

The meal itself was exceptional—pan-seared salmon for him, a delicate truffle risotto for you—but you barely noticed it.

Because he wasn’t letting you.

Hawks ate leisurely, slicing into his meal with deliberate precision, licking the tips of his fingers in slow, obnoxiously smug satisfaction. He barely said a word, only shooting you those sly little glances whenever you shifted in your seat.

You tried to hold your ground, twirling your fork around the creamy strands of risotto, pretending like he wasn’t winning, but the moment you so much as fidgeted—

“Oh?” Hawks hummed, pausing mid-cut. “Uncomfortable, sweetheart?”

Your fingers clenched around your utensils.

“Not at all,” you shot back smoothly, swallowing down the heat licking up your spine.

Hawks tilted his head, clearly enjoying himself. His golden eyes flickered down to your legs—pressed so neatly together, as if that would stop the slow pulse of need gathering between them.

Then, he had the audacity to stretch.

One arm draped lazily over the back of his chair, the other rolling his shoulder, wings fluffing ever so slightly.

It was a show—a silent, mocking display of how utterly unaffected he was, while you? You were the one falling apart.

And then came dessert.

The final act in his little power play.

The waiter arrived with a decadent, sinful-looking slice of chocolate cake, glossy ganache glistening under the dim light. Hawks thanked him, all smooth and polite, before turning his attention back to you.

“Want a bite?”

You exhaled slowly, regaining some semblance of control. “Depends,” you mused, taking a sip of wine. “Are you going to make me wait for it too?”

A slow, pleased smirk tugged at his lips. “You catch on fast.”

Then, he sliced into the cake with agonizing patience, scooping up the perfect forkful.

And ate it himself.

You gaped at him. “Are you serious?”

Hawks hummed, licking a crumb from his lower lip, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Dead serious.”

Your jaw clenched. You weren’t about to beg for dessert, but Hawks wasn’t just making you wait—he was relishing in your impatience, drawing out every single second just to watch you squirm.

The fork hovered in front of your lips, close enough to tempt, but never touching.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purred, dragging the fork away just as you leaned in. “You really thought I’d make this easy for you?”

You clenched your thighs together.

The smug bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

You weren’t just hungry for the damn cake anymore.

Hawks fed you a single bite—one, agonizingly slow bite—watching the way your lips wrapped around the fork, watching your expression as the rich chocolate melted on your tongue.

Then, he set the fork down.

Untouched for the rest of the meal.

You wanted to be mad. But more than that, you wanted to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his pretty face.

You leaned forward, matching his smugness with your own. “You’re awfully cocky for someone who still has to take me home after this.”

His pupils dilated.

Your lips curled. Checkmate.

But instead of backing down, Hawks let out a low, knowing chuckle.

“Oh, don’t you worry, sweetheart.” His voice dropped, smooth as honey, rich with intent. “I’ve been thinking about that all night.”

The car ride home was nothing short of torture.

Hawks had insisted on driving—because of course he had. There was no way in hell he was letting you take control now. Not after you made him wait.

The moment the restaurant door swung shut behind you, he had guided you to his sleek black coupe with a firm hand at the small of your back. It was a touch that should have been casual, should have been innocent, but the heat behind it? The warning laced in his fingertips?

That was anything but.

You slid into the passenger seat, feigning nonchalance, but the second Hawks took his place behind the wheel, his presence filled the entire car—suffocating, commanding, pressing against you like a heavy, unseen force.

He didn’t start the engine right away.

Instead, he turned to you, hands draped over the steering wheel, fingers tapping in lazy rhythm against the leather.

And then he looked at you.

His gaze was slow, deliberate—drifting from your lips, down the slope of your throat, lingering at the way your dress hugged your figure.

"You really thought that was cute, huh?" he murmured.

You tilted your head, playing coy. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His chuckle was dark, amused, but his wings twitched—the only sign of his very thin restraint. “Lingerie shopping, sweetheart? That’s what kept you so busy?”

Your lips curled. He knew.

Oh, he knew.

“Had to make sure I got something worth your patience,” you mused, trailing your fingers along the hem of your dress, just enough to tease, just enough to remind him that beneath it…

There was something waiting for him.

Hawks exhaled—a sharp, controlled thing—but the grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles flexing beneath the dim glow of the dashboard.

You had him.

Or at least, you thought you did—

Until he leaned in.

One hand left the wheel, reaching over to trace the delicate curve of your thigh, his touch light as a feather but carrying the weight of an unspoken promise.

"That’s real funny, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice dropping into something dangerously low. “You think you get to tease me? After keeping me waiting like some poor, neglected boyfriend?”

You swallowed, your pulse skipping at the sudden, heated shift in the air.

“I—”

“You did this on purpose,” he continued, fingers brushing higher, skimming just beneath the hem of your dress. “You wanted to push me.”

His eyes flicked up to yours, molten gold in the dim light, glinting with something feral. Something that sent a sharp thrill down your spine.

“Now you’re gonna take what you started.”

And with that, he finally turned the key in the ignition.

The car purred to life, but Hawks didn’t immediately pull out of the parking lot. No, he let it idle, let the tension sit between you, let you think for just one more second that you had the upper hand.

Then—

A sharp tug.

His fingers curled just beneath your dress, dragging the fabric up your thigh, but he stopped before going any further, grip firm, commanding.

Your breath hitched.

Hawks just smirked, eyes flicking back to the road, and finally—finally—he pulled the car into motion.

He drove slowly.

Painfully, agonizingly slow, one hand on the wheel, the other still resting on your thigh.

“You better keep still, sweetheart,” he murmured, golden eyes flicking to you for just a moment before returning to the road. “Wouldn’t want me getting distracted now, would you?”

You clenched your thighs together, but Hawks felt it—

And he laughed.

“You’re squirming,” he noted, lips curling with amusement. “Is that a problem?”

You glared at him. “You know it is.”

Hawks hummed, as if contemplating your dilemma, his fingers drumming a lazy, taunting rhythm against your skin.

“Guess you should’ve thought about that before making me wait,” he mused.

Then, to really hammer it in, his hand inched higher.

Your breath caught, heat coiling low in your stomach as he brushed his fingertips over the edge of your lace panties—the ones you’d spent all afternoon picking out, just for him.

He traced the delicate fabric, barely touching, barely pressing, just enough to make your thighs tremble.

“Pretty,” he murmured, so soft you almost didn’t hear it.

Then, his lips tilted, smirk widening as his fingers retreated.

Just like that.

Gone.

You nearly whined.

Hawks let out a slow, mocking sigh. “I could touch you,” he mused, flexing his grip just enough to make your pulse spike. “Could pull over, let you fix that little problem between your legs right now.”

Your breath hitched.

“But I won’t.”

You snapped your gaze to him, but he just chuckled, shaking his head.

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

The bastard.

You knew that look.

The way his fingers tapped idly against the steering wheel. The way his wings twitched, eager, but still holding back.

He was going to drag this out.

You shifted, pressing your thighs together, barely holding back a frustrated groan.

Hawks just smirked.

“That’s right, baby,” he murmured, voice a velvet promise. “You’re the one waiting now.”

The car rolled to a slow stop at a red light.

The moment stretched—charged, electric, dangerous.

Then—

Hawks turned to you, lips curling.

And whispered, “Hope you can behave for the rest of the drive home.”

You weren’t sure how Hawks managed to make a fifteen-minute ride stretch into what felt like an eternity, but he did. Every stop sign, every slow turn, every moment he let his fingers linger on your thigh—just barely brushing, just enough to tease—was deliberate. Calculated.

And the worst part?

He was enjoying this.

Smug bastard.

The only sounds in the car were the smooth hum of the engine and the occasional click of the blinker. You were certain he was dragging that out too, flicking it on a fraction of a second slower than necessary, as if he wanted you to feel every moment ticking by.

And then there was the other sound—your own breath, coming shorter, sharper, because the heat between your legs had become a problem. A problem you could not fix while he was playing this stupid game.

Hawks smirked.

He heard it.

Felt it.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, turning into the last stretch of road before his apartment. “You’re fidgeting.”

Your fingers dug into the seatbelt, nails pressing against the fabric. “Because you’re being insufferable.”

That earned you a chuckle, dark and amused. “Mmm, and you weren’t?”

You glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the way your body betrayed you, thighs pressing together again in a vain attempt to ease the ache.

Hawks noticed.

Of course he did.

His fingers flexed on the steering wheel, golden eyes flicking to you for half a second—just enough to make you feel thoroughly examined—before he dragged his gaze back to the road.

“Guess I should’ve known you’d be impatient,” he mused. “But after all that teasing? All that waiting?”

The car pulled into his parking garage, rolling to a slow, agonizing stop.

Hawks tilted his head toward you, smirk widening.

“You can wait a little longer… right?”

You clenched your jaw, heat burning beneath your skin. “Keigo—”

But before you could finish, before you could snap at him, the car dinged—doors unlocking.

Then, without another word, he slipped out of the driver’s seat.

That smug, infuriating—

You barely managed to pull yourself together before shoving your door open, but the second you were outside, Hawks was already on you.

Fast. Too fast.

He was behind you before you even had a chance to step forward, wings spanning out slightly, a silent cage. His breath skimmed over the shell of your ear, sending a violent shudder through you.

“You wanna act like a brat?” he murmured, voice velvety smooth. “Then you’ll get treated like one.”

Then, his hand ghosted down your back, teasing the hem of your dress, gripping the fabric just tight enough to make you ache.

Your breath hitched.

His lips tilted.

And then—

He stepped away.

Just walked toward the elevator.

Like nothing happened.

Oh, hell no.

You turned sharply, ready to let him have it—

But the look he shot over his shoulder?

That smug, confident amusement, paired with the way he pointedly flexed his fingers—like he was remembering the way you felt beneath his touch—

That shut you right up.

A slow, lazy smirk stretched across his lips. “Coming, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard.

And then, without another word, you followed.

The moment the apartment door clicked shut behind you, you knew you were in trouble.

Hawks didn’t move right away. Didn’t speak.

He just looked at you.

The kind of look that made your skin feel too tight, that sent heat creeping up the back of your neck because it wasn’t just hunger—it was calculation.

Like he was deciding exactly how he wanted to ruin you.

And then, finally—finally—he moved.

Slow, deliberate steps, his boots muffling against the floor as he made his way over.

You stayed rooted in place, your breath caught somewhere between anticipation and frustration.

It wasn’t fair.

The air between you was already thick with everything left unsaid, everything drawn out during dinner, during the car ride. Every single second of torturous patience he made you endure.

And then—he reached you.

You opened your mouth—to snap, to beg, to say anything—

But Hawks got there first.

A single, gloved finger lifted to your chin, tilting your head up just enough to force you into his gaze.

“You planned this,” he murmured, voice low and dangerous, his thumb swiping over your lip like a silent reprimand. “Didn’t you, sweetheart?”

Your breath caught.

His wings stretched behind him, slow and languid, casting shadows across the dimly lit apartment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, heat blooming in your chest at how close he was.

Hawks let out a quiet huff, something between a chuckle and a warning, his fingers trailing down, over the curve of your jaw, ghosting along the side of your neck—not gripping, not holding you there, but reminding you that he could.

That he would.

He leaned in, lips just shy of your ear.

“Sweetheart,” he purred, warm breath sending a violent shiver through you. “You should know better than to lie to me.”

Then, he pulled back—but not before his teeth grazed your earlobe, just barely, just enough to make you suck in a breath.

And then he was gone, his touch leaving behind nothing but a searing trail of heat.

Your head was spinning.

Hawks only smirked, dragging his gloves off one by one, the sound of the leather peeling away punctuating the thick silence between you.

“You made me wait.”

His voice was soft, deceptively so.

But the look in his eyes?

That wasn’t soft at all.

His gloves hit the counter with a quiet thud, forgotten.

And then—he reached for his belt, flicking it open with an effortless clink.

Your throat went dry.

“I think,” Hawks continued, watching you closely, “it’s only fair that you learn what that feels like.”

Your pulse pounded.

Then—without another word—he turned and walked toward the bedroom.

And when he didn’t look back, when he just left you standing there, waiting, your legs trembled beneath you.

Because, oh.

You were about to learn patience.

The air in the apartment was thick, charged, like the stillness before a storm.

Hawks disappeared into the bedroom, not bothering to look back, and you were left standing there, heart hammering, thighs pressed together in restless anticipation.

This was cruel.

You knew you deserved it—had planned for it, even—but that didn’t make the waiting any easier.

For a few agonizing seconds, you debated following him, but something in his posture, the casual ease of his movements, told you that wouldn’t get you anywhere.

No, he wanted you to sweat.

He wanted you to squirm.

And damn it, it was working.

Biting your lip, you hesitated before taking a slow, measured step forward, eyes locked on the open doorway to the bedroom.

Dim lighting spilled into the hall, casting a warm glow over the floorboards, but Hawks was nowhere in sight.

You swallowed, stepping inside.

And there he was.

Leaning back against the headboard, wings sprawled out behind him, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal the golden skin of his chest.

Waiting.

For you.

But he didn’t say anything.

Didn’t tell you to come closer.

Didn’t tell you to strip.

He just watched.

Amber eyes half-lidded, assessing, drinking in the sight of you standing there, hesitant for the first time tonight.

And then—

A single finger curled toward him.

A wordless command.

Your body moved before you even thought about it.

Step by step, you crossed the room, feeling every ounce of his scrutiny—how his gaze flickered from your lips to your throat to the subtle shift of your hips as you walked.

You reached the edge of the bed, pulse thrumming beneath your skin.

Still, he said nothing.

Instead, he stretched, slow and deliberate, arms flexing as he shifted his weight back onto his elbows, giving you a very clear view of the growing outline in his pants.

“You took your time,” he murmured.

The corner of his lips lifted in amusement, but there was a sharp edge to it, something wicked in the way he dragged his gaze up your body like he owned it.

Like he was still debating how much longer to make you wait.

Your breath hitched.

His fingers ghosted over the sheets, barely moving, and still the anticipation crackled between you like a live wire.

“You wanna make it up to me?”

His voice was velvet, dark and coaxing.

Your lips parted, ready to say yes, to beg if you had to—

But Hawks only chuckled, shifting just enough to pat the space beside him on the bed.

Close, but not close enough.

“Come here,” he said, golden eyes dark with promise. “We’re gonna take our time, sweetheart.”

Hawks stretched out on the bed, wings fanning slightly, his sharp golden gaze fixed on you like a predator toying with its prey. The air between you was thick with the promise of something wicked, something that would leave you trembling—breathless, begging, ruined.

But first?

He was going to make you wait.

Your knees hit the edge of the mattress, but before you could crawl onto the bed, Hawks shook his head, that damn smirk playing at his lips.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart.” His voice was a low drawl, lazy, mocking. “You were late. And not just a little late, either.”

He tilted his head, eyes burning into you with slow, intentional scrutiny, like he was committing every inch of you to memory before he even touched you.

“So now…” He leaned back, arms stretching above his head, his shirt parting just enough to reveal a sliver of golden skin. “I get to take my time, too.”

Your stomach dropped.

Because oh, this wasn’t just about teasing anymore.

This was about punishment.

Heat pooled low in your stomach as Hawks let the silence stretch between you, drawing out the tension until your skin practically ached from it.

“Strip.”

The word hit like a command, slow and deliberate, leaving no room for disobedience.

Your fingers twitched at your sides as you met his gaze, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

His smirk deepened, sensing your hesitation. Loving it.

“Need some help?” he mused, voice smooth as silk.

You huffed, resisting the urge to roll your eyes—but you knew better than to test him now.

So, with your pulse thrumming beneath your skin, you reached for the hem of your dress, fingers brushing the fabric—

“Slowly.”

Your hands froze.

A shiver ran down your spine as you looked up, meeting his darkened gaze.

Hawks grinned, eyes flashing with satisfaction. “C’mon, sweetheart. I waited so patiently for you. The least you could do is give me a show.”

Your breath hitched, but you obeyed.

Fingers trailing over the hem of your dress, you slowly pulled it up, letting the fabric skim over your thighs, then your hips, dragging the motion out until you could feel his eyes burning into every newly exposed inch of skin.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as his gaze dropped, sweeping over the lace of the lingerie you had picked out just to tease him.

And oh, did it work.

Hawks let out a low, appreciative hum, golden eyes darkening as his wings twitched against the mattress.

“Damn,” he murmured, voice rougher now, tinged with something dangerous. “All this for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

His gaze snapped back up to yours, sharp, predatory.

“Then get over here.”

You barely had time to move before Hawks grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto his lap, making you straddle his thighs in one smooth motion.

His hands skimmed up your sides, slow but possessive, tracing the delicate lace of your lingerie like he was committing the texture to memory.

“Such a tease,” he murmured, fingers slipping beneath the straps. “You enjoy making me wait, don’t you?”

You parted your lips to answer, but before you could, his grip tightened—just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Don’t lie.” His voice was lower now, rougher, each word sliding over your skin like molten honey. “I know exactly what you were doing, sweetheart.”

His hands slid down, gripping your hips, guiding you to press down against him, against the growing heat beneath his clothes.

And oh—

You felt him.

Thick, hard, pressing right where you needed him.

A sharp gasp left your lips, and Hawks grinned.

“That’s right,” he murmured. “That’s what happens when you make me wait.”

His lips brushed against your jaw, teasing, taunting, the heat of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

“You think you can get away with making me suffer?” His grip on your hips tightened, rocking you against him again, slow and deliberate.

Your breath hitched, thighs squeezing around him as pleasure curled deep in your stomach.

Hawks chuckled, teeth grazing your skin.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His voice dropped to something dark, something dangerous.

“You haven’t even begun to suffer yet.”

His hands didn’t roam. They stayed right where they were—gripping your hips with a controlled stillness that made your pulse stutter. He was waiting, letting the anticipation build, letting you feel the weight of your own choices.

His golden eyes roamed over you, slow, deliberate, as if he were memorizing every inch. The lace-trimmed garters squeezing the plump skin of your thighs. The slight rise and fall of your chest. The way you shifted under his stare, just enough to betray how much you wanted him to touch you already.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Hawks let out a quiet hum, tilting his head as his thumb brushed featherlight circles against your hipbone. “Y’know, for all that teasing,” he murmured, his voice so unfairly calm, “I expected a little more patience from you.”

You swallowed, your breath catching at the barely-there touch. “I was very patient at dinner.”

He exhaled a slow, measured breath—one that barely masked the hunger flickering behind his lazy smirk. “Were you?” He leaned in, his lips grazing your jaw, warm and unrelenting as he murmured, “Because from where I was sitting, all I saw was a brat begging for my attention.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the heat in his tone. Your hands fisted at the front of his half-unbuttoned dress shirt, but before you could pull, Hawks caught your wrists and pinned them back against the small of your back, his grip firm.

“Nuh-uh.” His smile was all teeth now, predatory and slow, golden eyes alight with mischief. “You don’t get to rush me, baby bird.”

Your breath hitched, legs instinctively pressing together as his knee nudged between them, forcing them apart just enough to make you whimper. The smirk tugging at his lips deepened.

“You made me wait,” Hawks murmured, brushing a kiss down your throat—soft, infuriatingly gentle—before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze again. “So now? You get to wait.”

His wings shifted behind him, casting long shadows in the dim light of the room, framing him like something otherworldly as he lifted one of your wrists to his lips. A kiss, featherlight. A contrast to the way his other hand gripped your waist, keeping you still.

And then?

The moment Hawks finally moved, it wasn’t slow.

It wasn’t soft.

It was everything you’d been waiting for.

He was on you in an instant, crashing his mouth against yours with a hunger that stole your breath. His hands—rough, sure—slid down your body, fingers curling around your thighs as he lifted you with ease, pressing you back against the headboard as his wings flared out for balance.

“Enough teasing,” you barely managed to gasp between kisses, nails dragging down the broad planes of his back. “I’ve waited long enough.”

Hawks chuckled darkly against your throat, his tongue flicking over the pulse point before sinking his teeth just hard enough to make you gasp. “Oh, you’re impatient?” His voice was pure sin, thick with amusement, but the way his grip tightened on your thighs told you he wasn’t unaffected. “You were real confident earlier, princess. What happened?”

You bit your lip, rolling your hips against the hardness pressing between your legs. “You made me wait.”

His golden eyes darkened at that, something primal flickering through them. “Yeah,” he murmured, dragging his lips down, down, tasting the curve of your neck, your collarbone. “Guess I did.”

Then, with no further warning, he dropped you onto the mattress with a bounce before his hands were on your waist. His smirk deepened as he took in the lacy lingerie—the one you purposely took your time picking out, knowing he’d appreciate the wait.

“Damn,” he muttered, voice husky, fingers tracing over the delicate material. “You really wanted to piss me off, huh?”

You grinned, arching beneath his touch. “Was it worth it?”

Hawks exhaled sharply, his pupils blown wide as he reached for the waistband of your panties. “Guess I’ll let you decide.”

And then he tore them.

Not pulled. Not slid down your legs in some slow, torturous fashion. No, Hawks hooked his fingers into the flimsy lace and ripped them off in one fluid motion, tossing the ruined scraps over his shoulder like they were nothing.

You gasped, but the heat pooling in your stomach only burned hotter. “K—Keigo, those were expensive.”

He only grinned, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh as he settled between your legs, palms sliding up to hold you open for him. “Guess you shouldn’t have been late then, huh?”

Then, without another word, he devoured you.

His mouth was hot, tongue flicking against your clit in slow, deliberate circles before flattening and dragging down, teasing your entrance before plunging inside. The sharp contrast of precision and recklessness had you gasping, your back arching off the bed as pleasure coiled through your veins.

Your fingers flew to his hair, tangling in the golden strands as you pulled, and Hawks groaned against you, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure straight through you.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, lips glistening with evidence of what he’d been doing. His smirk was filthy, eyes gleaming. “Go ahead, baby. Take what you need.”

And then he sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking mercilessly, and the world exploded.

Your thighs clenched around his head, but Hawks didn’t stop—if anything, he doubled down, hands gripping your hips to keep you from squirming away as he licked, sucked, owned you. The pleasure coiled, tightening, until the only thing left in your world was him, his mouth, the way he ruined you with every stroke of his tongue.

You came with a sharp cry, legs shaking, body arching into him, and Hawks groaned, dragging it out, working you through every last wave of pleasure until you were trembling beneath him.

Only then did he pull back, his grin wicked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah,” he said, voice thick with satisfaction. “Worth it.”

Your chest heaved, eyes still glazed as you watched him climb back up your body, settling between your legs. “That—that was—”

Hawks laughed, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “Oh, baby,” he murmured, reaching down to undo his belt.

The sound of his belt sliding free was almost drowned out by the pounding of your heartbeat, your body still trembling in the aftershocks of his mouth. But Hawks? Hawks wasn’t done—not even close.

He pulled back just enough to shuck his shirt over his head, golden strands falling messily over his forehead, making him look dangerous, untamed. His wings flared slightly as he slowly unzipped his pants.

Golden eyes locked onto yours as he pushed them down, letting his cock spring free, thick and aching as he wrapped his hand around the base, giving himself a slow, teasing stroke. The way your breath hitched at the sight made his lips curve into something downright predatory.

“Fuck,” he murmured, dragging his thumb over the leaking tip. “Look at you. Already fucked out and I haven’t even given you the real punishment yet.”

You swallowed hard, thighs instinctively pressing together, only to have Hawks tut in disapproval.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart,” he scolded, grasping your knees and spreading you back open. “Don’t go shy on me now. You wanted to play, didn’t you?”

You barely had time to take a breath before he flipped you onto your stomach, pressing your chest flush to the mattress as his hand smoothed over the curve of your ass. His touch was deceptively gentle—possessive—before he delivered a sharp smack, the sound echoing through the dimly lit room.

You gasped, your fingers twisting in the sheets, heat spiking at the sensation.

“Damn,” Hawks chuckled, voice husky as he squeezed the soft flesh. “That pretty little ass of yours just begging for me to ruin it.” Another smack, this time firmer, and your body jerked, pleasure mingling deliciously with the sting.

“Keigo,” you whimpered, half in frustration, half in desperation.

“Ohhh,” he mocked, leaning down until his lips ghosted over your ear. “Now you wanna be sweet? Where was all that attitude earlier, huh?” His hand trailed between your legs, fingers swiping over your soaked folds, making you shudder. “Bet you thought you were real cute making me wait. And now?”

His fingers pushed inside without warning, two thick digits curling perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you, making your back arch off the bed with a cry.

“Now you’re gonna take whatever I give you.”

You whimpered, walls fluttering around his fingers, but Hawks was already pulling away, dragging them out so slowly before replacing them with the thick, aching heat of his cock.

He lined himself up, teasing your entrance, rubbing the tip through your slick folds without pushing in.

“Keigo,” you whined, pressing back against him, desperate for more.

He grinned, pressing a hand to the small of your back to keep you still. “Not so fun when you’re the one waiting, huh?”

Before you could even snap back, he slammed inside with one deep, brutal thrust.

Your mouth fell open in a silent cry, body jerking at the sheer force of it. He was big, stretching you in the best kind of way, filling you so perfectly it left you reeling.

Hawks groaned, his head falling forward, wings shuddering behind him. “Oh, fuck—yeah, that’s it, baby,” he murmured, pulling out just enough before thrusting back in, the slick sound of skin meeting skin filling the room. “You feel so fuckin’ good, squeezin’ me like that.”

He didn’t give you a second to adjust. Didn’t let you breathe before setting a pace that was relentless, deep and fast, each thrust pushing you harder into the mattress.

Your nails clawed at the sheets, gasping with every delicious drag of his cock against your walls, every rough thrust that sent sparks of pleasure erupting through your body.

“Keigo—oh my God—”

He let out a dark chuckle, fingers digging into your hips as he snapped his hips forward, angling to hit that spot that had you seeing stars. “Aww, now she’s beggin’,” he cooed, voice rough with amusement. “But you earned this, baby.”

His wings flared as he pulled you back onto him, forcing you to take every inch, moaning when your body responded so perfectly, walls gripping him tighter, pulsing around his cock.

“That’s right,” he groaned, his hand tangling into your hair, pulling your head back just enough for him to kiss you, filthy and claiming. “You take what I give you.”

Your body was on fire, pleasure curling so tight in your core it was almost unbearable. The tension, the teasing, the denial—it was too much, and yet not enough.

“Hawks,” you gasped, barely able to form words, barely able to think.

He growled, pressing you harder into the mattress, his rhythm turning brutal. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he mocked, voice strained with pleasure. “You were talkin’ real big before—thought you could handle me?”

You sobbed his name as the coil inside you snapped, pleasure crashing violently through your body, wave after wave of blinding heat as your walls clenched tight around him.

Hawks cursed, his rhythm stuttering as he buried himself deep, groaning as his release ripped through him, hips snapping one final time before he stilled, pressing against your back as he panted heavily.

The only sound in the room was the sharp gasps of breath, the slick press of sweaty skin against skin, the aftershocks still wracking through your body as Hawks buried his face into the crook of your neck, leaving a lingering kiss there.

You were spent, muscles still trembling, breath still unsteady.

And yet—

Hawks laughed, low and sated, but with something still dangerous lurking beneath the surface.

“Baby,” he murmured, voice heavy with satisfaction. “We are not done yet.”

#mha #my hero academia #mha smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha hawks #mha hawks #hawks x reader #moongirlcleo

108 notes · View notes

shadowsviper · 2 months ago

Note

Ooo can you write the reader as a cat while thanos and namgyu take care of them?

Thanos and Nam-Gyu taking care of Cat reader

Literal cat. I made it so they live together just to make it easier to write. Whether they’re dating or not is up to you. Bro who was gonna tell me that the formatting for phones is weird compared to laptops

• There’s two ways I can think of how they find you and they’re high as fuck in both situations

• One way is that they’re coming home from the club and while walking down a dark alleyway they find you rummaging through some trash looking for something to eat

• Nam-gyu noticed you first, he immediately got down to your level and started pspspspsps at you

• Thanos was high as fuck so he actually kept walking and left him behind for a minute

• You were cautious of Nam-gyu. You peeked your head out to look at him but didn’t make a move

• He tried to lure you out with his hand but because of how cautious you were and the fact that he had nothing to offer you, you stayed put

• Thanos came back after realizing Nam-gyu was gone. When he noticed you, he let out the loudest gasp, scaring the fuck out of you

• You immediately hid under some cardboard

• “What the hell? You scared them off!” Nam-gyu grumbled.

• “We should take them home!” Thanos suggested. He started moving some cardboard out of the way

• Unfortunately for you, his movements were fast and unpredictable which scared you even more. It didn’t help that compared to you he was a giant human

• His hands reached down for you, effectively grabbing your body and lifting you up to his chest. Your paws immediately pressed against him, trying to push him away

• “You suck at holding them, give them to me,” Nam-gyu said, reaching over for you. His hands grabbed you from Thanos and cradled you to his chest

• It wasn’t that much better than Thanos, but at least he had a comfortable grip. Just like that, they now have a cat and you have a new home

• The other way I could think of them finding you is at a animal shelter. They were high as hell and decided to go look at some animals for fun

• Thanos immediately went for the dogs, claiming that they would match his energy

• Nam-gyu gravitated towards the cats. He preferred them over dogs.Dogs were too energetic for him. Having Thanos around was enough for him

• Nam-gyu looked at every cat available before he circled around and came back to you. He couldn’t explain it but there was something about you

• He stared at you, and you stared back. It became a staring contest for the two of you. Nam-gyu didn’t blink at all, but not blinking might be a side effect of drugs

• He asked a worker to let you out so he could spend some time with you. He already knew you’d be the one

• You were the only one who even bothered to approach him and accept his hand for pets

• It took some time before you were comfortable to play with him. You swatted at the toys he gave you, showing off how playful you could be

• Nam-gyu sat near you, his hand constantly reached over to pet you. His touch was gentle, almost as if he’s scared to pet you. You can’t help but purr every time he pets you

• Thanos comes in loud as always, scaring some of the cats in the room

• “Nam-su! They have a bunch of dogs here-” Thanos stopped when he realized you were right besides Nam-gyu and purring. “Is that a cat?”

•”No it’s a hamster,” Nam-gyu said sarcastically, ignoring the nickname. “Yes, it’s a cat. They’re very playful. I think they’ll be a nice fit to our place.”

• And here comes the argument

• Thanos wants a dog, Nam-gyu wants a cat. They’re both arguing over which animal to pick as if they actually had the goal to adopt when they came into the shelter high as fuck

• “Dogs are cooler,” Thanos whined. “Imagine me walking around with a big ass German Shepherd, or a Doberman! I won’t look as cool with a cat, I can’t bring them outside.”

• “Yeah but guys having cats is considered a green flag,” Nam-gyu said. He was getting distracted by you making biscuits on his pants as he pet you. “You’re a walking red flag, you need some green to even it out.”

• Thano argued that he did have green to even it out. It was weed

• Nam-gyu sighed.

• Either way, Nam-gyu eventually convinced Thanos to adopt you. It didn’t take too much effort considering that he was high and he listened to Nam-gyu whenever he was high

• Congratulations you now have two dumbass junkies as your owner

• Which ever way they found you, they made sure that you were the most spoiled cat ever

• They made their apartment more comfortable for you. There were beds everywhere, cat trees everywhere, scratching posts, you name it they have it

• Thanos made sure you had every toy in existence and that you would always be comfortable

• Nam-gyu made sure you had the best quality food. Whether that be the best quality kibble, wet food, or even raw diet, he made sure it was perfect

• Cuddles are a must for Thanos and you don’t have a say in when or where. He’ll just grab you and hug you close for a while. He’s done it while you were sleeping which earned him a few scratches

• He definitely tried to grab you while he was in the bathroom saying some shit about needing a buddy while he goes

• Yeah just stay away from him when he’s in the bathroom

• Nam-gyu respects your space. Which is funny considering how touchy he is with Thanos

• He’ll let you come to him most of the time. The only times he’ll grab you first is if he needed to move you or just wanted a hug

• The bed is always the best spot. It’s warm and cozy, and it has their scent. It keeps you sane when they’re gone for a long time doing whatever it is they do late at night

• You soon realized that they’re different when they’re sober

• Thanos is still as loud as ever but he’s more aware of how loud he is. Ever since having you in the apartment he realized how sensitive your ears are and will quiet down around you

• He respects your space a little more when he’s sober because he’ll realize that he never leaves you alone

• Nam-gyu is pretty much the same. He’s more aware of his surroundings and will be more accommodating towards you but fuck everyone else he doesn’t care about them, only you… and maybe Thanos

• Thanos would be annoying as hell, he’d buy every pet outfit he sees and buys it for you to try. His phone is filled with pictures of you dressed up

• They both have you as their wallpaper

• Thanos either has you with an outfit as a wallpaper or it’s some bad quality photo he got of you mid sneeze. He only has bad quality photos of you and maybe like 2-3 good ones. He loves to send those bad quality photos as reaction pictures when texting anyone

• Nam-gyu only has good quality photos of you. Ones that people would pay hundreds for. His wallpaper is always you looking perfect. On the couch lounging, sleeping in the cat tree, looking at birds out the window. The best quality only

• Anyways, they love you very much and will only provide the absolute best for you, nothing less

#squid game #squid games #squid game 2 #squid game season 2 #squid game thanos #squid game nam gyu #choi su bong x reader #choi su bong #thanos x reader #player 230 #thanos x y/n #nam gyu #nam gyu x reader #namgyu x reader #player 124 #nam gyu x y/n #squid game headcanons

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senawashere · 11 months ago

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Hi could I request something fluffy for Bradley? Maybe he comes home after a bit too many beers at the Hard Deck and is super needy just needs a bit of affection🤭 please take your time, and no rush! You can go wherever you want with this:)

We're on this together...(Chapter VII)

Summary: Cat is out of the bag.

A/n: It took a lot,sorry.. And thank you @promisingyounglady for thus request,i changed it a bit,hope you will like it!!!

Warnings: Infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf.Use of alcohol,arguing,use of bad languange. Not so angsty anymore🥹

September 11 2022

If there was one thing Bradley wanted, it was to spend the rest of his life with you.

If there was one thing Bradley definitely wanted, it was to have a family with you.

You wished he was more creative, more romantic, but when your period was late and you started feeling queasy about food, you took a pregnancy test and burst into tears when you saw the result.

You had been trying for this for years and you were exhausted.

Mental breakdowns, crying sessions, crises, fights, negative tests, negative doctor visits and more, it hurt a lot for years.

But one day everything changed.

That test that you were used to seeing as negative came back positive that day.

You were pregnant.

You wished you could create something to share the news with Bradley, but he came running to your screams, his eyebrows pinched together in distress and he ran into the bathroom with a frantic "Baby?!"

You were jumping, holding the test with tears streaming down your face, "We're going to be parents! Bradley, we're going to be parents!"

"What?!" Bradley screamed, his vision instantly blurring as he gasped for air and gasped for air, and he stood up to ground himself from the overwhelming emotions and pulled you to his chest, giving you a bone-crushing hug.

Another thing you'll remember forever.

°•°•°•

Of course you were smart enough to wait nine months, but you didn't expect Bradley to be so protective of you the moment he found out you were pregnant.

"Why are you using the kettle, baby? There's hot water in there."

"Oh no, honey, you're not taking Duke to the park by yourself."

"Don't sleep too close to the side, baby, come here, into my arms."

"What are you doing?! Hell no, you're not even going near the vacuum cleaner."

You could barely breathe as Bradley watched you, his body ready to interfere with you.

God forbid, because right now your baby is lying in your womb sipping on damn cocktails in your bladder.

“What happened? What happened?” Bradley woke up frantically, his sleepy eyes wide and his hair a mess as he leaned towards you.

“Baby, I’m just gonna pee.” you chuckled quietly.

He rubbed his eyes as he got out of bed, muttering, “Okay, let’s go.”

You sat down on the bed, looking at him in shock as he yawned and waited for you.

“Bradley, I’m seriously just gonna pee,” you said, before pointing to the bathroom, “Right there.”

Your husband’s arrogance made him look at you in confusion, “Yeah, I know. Come on then, let’s go and pee.”

You stood up, “I’m not gonna pee while you’re staring at me like a hawk.”

“Okay, I won’t look then.”

“Roo!”

“Whaaaat?” He shrugged at you as he dragged you to the bathroom, looking at you, “I just want to protect you and our baby.”

“I think that’s great, but baby,” you sighed, “Go back to bed and let me pee on my own, okay?”

He wasn’t sure, his eyebrows furrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest in displeasure as he watched you step closer to him, wearing your fluffy slippers.

“Relax, cranky,” you teased, before pressing a kiss to his cheek and heading into the bathroom.

Brad, being Brad, sat on the bed, his eyes glued to the closed door, mentally prepared to rush you if you did so little as whimper.

But minutes later, you washed your hands, yawned, and rubbed your eyes before jumping on your waiting husband.

You shook your head and let out a laugh of disbelief, “I can’t believe you.”

Worse, Bradley wasn’t the only one constantly freaking out and protecting you from the world’s many terrible dangers, and more specifically, TV remotes, vacuum cleaners, and everything else that was going on around him.

But so was Duke.

The little—now big—pup was definitely his dad’s best friend, because Duke’s body had grown and he would be right next to you whenever a family member or friend got too close. If you were all sitting on the couch, Duke’s paw was always on your belly next to Bradley’s hand.

It was enough to make you wonder if Duke was even human.

Bradley shared the news with the squad when you were almost 3 months pregnant:

"She's over there!"

His voice was drowned out by the clinking of glasses and the heavy bass of the rock song playing through the crappy speakers in the corner of the room, but it was still unmistakable. His "greeting" was followed by shouts and howls from the rest of the group, many of whom raised their glasses in honor of your (late) arrival.

"My hot wife!"

Bradley, despite his drunkenness, smiled widely and greeted you protectively, as he had for the last few weeks – this time he removed your coat and purse, along with any bags or extra weight he had hanging on brass hooks underneath.

You scanned the bar table and his facial expression for any signs of displeasure or concern.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when he started "dad mode," his tendencies to go into overdrive, but it definitely started that rainy and cold Tuesday night in your shared bathroom as you sat leaning against the wall of the tub with three positive pregnancy tests.

“I wish you would stop calling me that, Brad,” you sneered as he helped you free your arms from your jacket. "One day you'll make a scene."

The drunk man chuckled.

"What can i say,baby?."

You nodded and rolled your eyes at his antics as you turned your attention towards to your soon to be husband and the man of the hour, intending to pull him in for quick hug and a kiss.

“Y/n!”

Despite the loud noise of the bar, you heard a familiar voice. You turned back to see Jake coming towards you both. Approaching Bradley first.

"Hello, birthday boy," Jake's voice was soft against the drunken slur that was beginning to take over Bradley.

"It's not nice of you to be late for my party,"

“Well sometimes traffic can be a pain in the ass,you know that. But here are my two favorite people standing together. Come give me a hug” he slurred, pulling both in rather roughly for a bone-crushing hug.

You managed to squeeze out a giggle between Jake's bone-crushing hug.

You saw Bradley stiffen out of the corner of his eye, as if saying, "Jeez calm down, dude. She's pregnant, for God's sake," or letting the interaction continue.

He knew he wasn't allowed to do the first one because you both agreed to wait until all your friends and family gathered at the same time to tell them the great news, so Bradley let Jake hug you. You hugged extra tight despite his unrealistic, dramatic concerns that he would crush his fragile body or somehow harm the baby. When he released you from his grasp, he made sure to send Jake a reassuring smile.

Your greeting to Penny and Natasha was short and sweet, both opting to kiss you on the cheek.

“Let me see it one more time,” Natasha’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper, over the chatter of the bar.

You felt the heat creep up your cheeks as she took your hand in hers to examine the ring on your fourth finger.

The ring was thin and gold, studded with a single, elegant but large diamond in the center.

“It's beautiful,” she whispered, marveling at the way the jewel floated even in the dim, tungsten glow of the bar.

You mumbled a quiet “thank you” before leading back to the other side of the table. You turned to where Bradley was waiting for you with his arms outstretched, a shit-eating grin on his face.

You caught the wind of tequila on his breath as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

You tasted it too, kissing his lips quickly and - oh my god, had he gained weight too? Or was he getting more bulkier? But he looked like a whole damn meal like this too.

"So okay?You did worry me when you said you were going to be late,are you okay now?" Bradley's question was asked in a low voice so only he could hear.

Bradley had been celebrating all day with Jake, Natasha, Javy, Mickey,Bob,Maverick and Penny so this was the first time he saw you since you kissed him and sent him off to work this morning.

You nodded and smiled, but your face made Bradley believe otherwise.

"I felt nauseous when I got home from the office. It took me a little longer to get out the door," he shrugged, implying that it wasn't a big deal but that he didn't feel 100 percent ready to party either.

“Baby,” Bradley half-scolded you, feeling a good portion of his hum leave his body when Y/N said she wasn’t feeling well. Clinging on you like a koala because of the alcohol in his veins.

"Why didn't you tell me you were not feeling good? I would come home and sit with you."

“I wasn't going to ask you to interrupt your best friend's birthday dinner just because I was vomiting for the umpteenth time this week,” you said sternly, making it clear that you were fine.

"I'm fine. I promise."

Bradley's jaw softened at your sentence, the muscles in his torso relaxing from their tense positions.

"Oh! Will you two stop whispering and get drunk with me?!" Jake shouted across the table, bursting the bubble that had temporarily surrounded the couple as both whispered about their sweet little secret they were dying to tell everyone.

“You,” Jake pointed a finger at Y/N’s head. “Don’t be shy. Now,” he pointed at the bartender who was making drinks at the opposite end of their table.

Both you and Bradley chuckled nervously, not sure how to handle the fact that you couldn’t drink without airing dirty laundry.

“I think I need to eat some food before I do that. Why don’t you get some for Bradley,” You grabbed Bradley’s shoulder and pushed him forward, praying that it would be enough to entertain the drunk boy.

“Fine,” Jake glared.

“That’ll make it hard for you to keep up later, though!”

He grabbed Bradley by the bicep and pushed through the crowd to get him liquor, which he was so eager for.

Your conversations with Penny were light, mostly about what they had done today and the bet they had made that Bradley would need to have a ride for the night.

You successfully dodged Natasha’s questions about how the fertility and planning were going,how the doctor was and was it helping your sex life.

“We are trying hard,it is going good,” you replied with a nervous chuckle, the truth being that you were pregnant right now.

It felt like ages before the two of them – Jake and Bradley– returned.

You had chosen the fries and were sipping on the ginger ale Bradley had bought you before Jake came, but you were interrupted when Bradley and Jake returned to the table.

He was drunk.

Quite drunk.

More than tipsy.

Damn he wasn’t even seeing straight anymore.

And you knew it because his body was even warmer and his eyes looked even hazier than before he left.

You definitely imagined them having more than one shot at the bar, but you didn’t have much time to think about it before you felt his arms wrap around your waist and rest on your hips. You returned his touch, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and resting your head on his chest.

“I love you,” Bradley murmured into the soft spot between your jaw and ear, then his hands slid under your shirt to rest on your lower belly.

“I love you too,” you said again.

You could feel him smiling against your skin as he cradled the barely-there baby bump beneath your oversized sweater.

Bradley was the only one who saw you regularly enough to notice the small changes your body was going through. To everyone else, you still looked like plain old Y/N.

“We like you more but if you don’t stop fooling me in the middle of this bar,” You began, speaking light-heartedly and quietly into your ear, “Everyone will know and you won’t understand. You have to be quiet in order to have that announcement party you’ve been planning for weeks.”

Bradley sighed, knowing you were right, and loosened his grip on your stomach, choosing to at least throw an arm over your shoulder to keep you close.

“I know what you’re up to,” Jake and Natasha looked at the two from across the table.

This caught the attention of not only Jake and Natasha, but also Bob,Maverick and Penny. Everyone turned to look at Jake, anticipating what he was going to say next.

“So what’s going on here, Y/n?” Jake asked flirtatiously.

A frown formed on Btadley’s face, his arms quickly pulled up to his chest as he huffed.

“You’re trying to get out of here and leave us alone on your birthday.”

“I guess I’m not even here then. I guess I am just your fantasy then,” Bradley said, rolling his eyes.

“We’re not trying to leave you, man. I promise,” you stuck your pinky out on the table as a gesture of sincerity.

“Besides.” Jake’s drunken chatter was starting to sound rather childish now, and it was getting more and more entertaining by the second.

“We don’t do that, Bangman,” Bradley Replied.

“Liars. Both of you.”Jake threw a bunch of straw wrappers in Bradley’s direction, which bounced off Bradley’s chest and landed near his feet.

They were both heavily intoxicated now, and you didn’t want a fight between them.

“Where could we possibly go, hmm?” Bradley scoffed, resting his chin on the knuckles of his free hand that was resting on the table. "What better thing could we possibly plan than spending time with you on my birthday dinner?"

They watched as Jake fought his remaining sobriety for an answer, but he eventually gave in to his drunkenness and said, "I don't know. You're probably going to fuck each other or something.”

The table burst out laughing and you hid your face in Bradley’s chest because you were embarrassed.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Penny said before taking a long sip of her cocktail.

“Look. We’re in agreement.” Jake tried her best to sound serious in his drunken stupor.

“Prove to me that you won’t leave me at here and have another shot,” Jake said like a 5-year-old.

“Dude why the fuck they would leave you here at his own party dinner?” Bob asked but Bradley cut him off. “Fine,” Bradley shrugged. “Let’s go back to the bar then.”

Bradley started to pull Jake towards him but was stopped abruptly.

“No,” Jake said quickly.

“Y/n too. If you both drink, you can’t go home and leave me,” he said proudly, as if it was the smartest idea he could come up with.

“Hangman, maybe she doesn’t want to drink with y-” Bob was cut once again.

“Oh my god Bob stop, she loves drinking!” Jake absurdly said.

He couldn’t even form proper sentences and he wouldn’t listen to anything you said or Bradley or Bob.

You just knew that Jake was sloppy drunk and acting like an idiot like he always did, but you couldn’t help but feel your palms start to sweat.

You couldn’t tell Jake the real reason you couldn’t have drinks with the group tonight, so you quickly tried to come up with another excuse since you’d been stuffing your belly with fries since he’d given you your last one.

But there was no need to think any further when Bradley was helping you with his.

“She can’t do that, man. Now, come on. Let’s get some more tequila. Looks like Nat,Javy and Mickey needs some more too, hmm?”

You pinched your nose in annoyance. He was doing his best to keep this all under wraps, but Jake was making it extremely difficult.

“Who are you? Her guardian? Are you telling her what she can and can’t do?” he shouted.

“No, you fucking nun. She can’t drink because you can’t drink when you’re pregn-”

Damn it.

Bradley covered his mouth before he could finish his sentence, but it was too late. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he said it. To be completely honest, he wasn’t even sure if he was thinking.

He silently prayed that neither Jake nor the others would hear him, but when they all looked between him and you with wide eyes, he knew immediately that it wasn’t true.

“Y/N, are you pregnant?” Maverick was the first to speak.

You felt stuck in place, only able to stare at Bradley with a very fast beating heart and an open mouth.

“I, um, I – yeah?” It came out more as a question due to your state of shock.

“I’m so sorry baby,” Bradley cried, turning to you to comfort you.

He was writhing with fear that you were angry with him, but it was mostly the alcohol that made him think that way.

“You have a baby?” Jake’s voice was unusually low compared to how loud he had been shouting earlier.

“Yes. It will be.” You were laughing nervously as you spoke. “I’m sorry Bradley ruined the surprise. We wanted to throw a big party and tell everyone at the same time, but I think the cat’s out of the bag for you.”

You rubbed the palm of your hand over Bradley’s back, silently assuring him that you weren’t mad at him. But the others were in a completely different world.

Jake didn’t say anything, just moved from his position next to Bob to get between You and Brad.

He looked at you both with an expression that resembled both anger and confusion, which only increased your discomfort.

In a split second, he wrapped his arms around both of you and hugged both of you tightly.

“Wow! This is the best news i heard today. Uncle Jake…What the fuck?! This is amazing!!

Now he was wandering around, smiling from ear to ear as he ran to Mickey and Javy, who had lost their minds again, to pull them into a group hug on her own chairs instead of on yours and Bradleys.

Both your eyes locked on each other in the middle of the group of friends and they were forced to be a part of his sandwich.

A smile and a knowing look exchanged between you, and despite not coming out in the most fashionable way, you knew that your precious little nugget would be surrounded by people who loved them very much. Everybody took their time to hug both of you and congratulate you.

By the end of the night, Jake leaned over his knees and placed his icy hands on your belly.

"Hi, I'm Jake, I love you..." He began to kiss her belly in a drunken voice.

"Fuck off Jake, that's enough." You burst out laughing as Bradley shouted from behind you.

"Okay.”

And that's how your pregnancy was revealed…

Few weeks later…

For a few days, it was Bradley and Duke’s normal protectiveness that you had gotten used to, but it wasn’t until Bradley’s mother invited you to a family gathering that Bradley reached a new level.

“Go join the others, okay?” You told him, “I’ll be fine here with your relatives,” and despite not being sure, he did as you asked, but looked at you often to make sure you were okay.

When someone is pregnant, that’s the talk of any sit-down.

“You’re glowing!” Many of Bradley’s family members fawned over your belly and your pregnancy, “Did you find out the sex of the baby?” one woman asked. You said you didn’t because you wanted to know when the baby was born.

All of this was fine.

But.

A lot of hands were constantly touching your belly.

You knew it was good intentions, but you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with every hand touching your belly—hands from people you weren’t that familiar with.

Every time someone touched your belly, you tried to take a discreet step back, trying to put your hands on your belly before they did, but it was no use.

Bradley knew you like the back of his hand.

So, in a failed attempt to hide your discomfort, he immediately tried to save you as you stood with a forced smile on your face with 6 of his relatives.

“Hi,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist before placing a quick kiss on your cheek.

“What if you’re not the father!” A woman joked happily, “We were just giving Y/N tips for the first month when the baby came,” she said before leaning forward to caress your belly, “I think it’s a baby girl.”

You frowned at the touch, taking a slight step back as you also moved closer to Bradley. He understood, wrapping his other arm around your waist, his relative pulling his hand away reflexively,

“Anyway, I’ll be so happy. Can you give us one minute please?” He asked them with a gentle smile before taking your hand in his and letting you both go to a quieter place.

You sighed in relief, caressing your little belly.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked softly, his hands covering your face, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I just-” You sighed again, feeling overwhelmed with emotions that would make you cry.

“Hey, hey,” Bradley’s mood changed instantly, his eyebrows furrowed as he hugged you, pulling you closer to his chest, “I’m right here, I’m right here.”

“I just,” your husky voice said before you pulled away slightly but still leaned into him, “Everyone keeps touching my belly. Like, all these hands and all these people and some of them are like, some of them are just rubbing it or something or holding it there for a long time so they can feel the baby kick and it just makes me so uncomfortable.”

Bradley nodded as you spoke, looking into your eyes as he began, “You have every right to be uncomfortable, baby, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, “How about we go home, yeah? We can just go.”

“But your mom-”

He shook his head, “My mom will understand, I promise. I care about your comfort more than anything else,” he said. “Let’s go, okay?”

“Okay,” you sniffled.

“Yeah?” He smiled softly and leaned down to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”

“I love you too,” you replied, before sighing, wrapping your arms around him. “And my back really hurts.”

“We’ll go home,” he said as he began to rub your back. “And I’ll massage you until you fall asleep, how does that sound?”

“Heavenly.”

He murmured, “How about I call my mom so you can say goodbye? You don’t have to say goodbye to everyone, I don’t want more people touching you.”

“You mean like I don’t know,” you shrugged, “Isn’t it a bit rude?”

“Fuck it,” Bradley replied instantly, “I can’t risk making you feel any more uncomfortable because someone might think it’s rude.”

And he kept his promise. Bradley called his mom so you could sneak off alone and say goodbye to the relatives.

And then he kept his promise once more because as soon as you got home he was buzzing around like a busy bee, making sure you were happy and comfortable before massaging your back.

“Mmh i love you so so so much,baby”

“Love you too honey.”

Child jake vs dagger squad

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