#it'll probably be his undoing :'))

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Four) (18+) / Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 4.8K / navigation / inbox

A/N: Day two begins!! thank you to everyone who's been reading along, and if you're just finding this series for the first time through this part, welcome! I hope you enjoy, and though this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, it packs some punches. You will get more insight into why they act the way that they do in this chapter, in the next chapter! bear with them please, they're dumb </333 please let me know how you're feeling about the series so far! <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Daniel’s shoulders are so broad that they block your view of both the cabin and his face, everything completely obscured by the heaving, sweaty, tanned mass of muscle flexed over you. Daniel’s toned arms frame your head, his lips tug your own into a string of merciless kisses, kisses that leave you panting when you’re granted even the slightest of respite. His cock pumps in and out of your throbbing cunt with every thrust of his strong hips, and all that you’re capable of is a pathetic stream of whines and whimpers as Daniel undoes you.

“Oh Dan- Daniel! Please, harder, I want- I want more, please!” You babble, gripping at his back, smoothing your hands and scratching your nails over every inch of his glistening, taut skin, “Please, please, I need more, please, more- harder, more, I need you!”

Pleasure shoots through your core stronger than you’ve ever felt it before, and you chase the feeling desperately, lifting your hips to press yourself into Daniel’s steady thrusts. The new angle of your body allows for your head to be tipped backwards, and you catch sight of the hazy face that had eluded your vision before. But where Daniel’s scruff blankets his face, there’s only tan, smooth skin, squared at the chin and leading into the tight, determined snarl of none other than Jake Seresin.

“Jake!”

You wake like it’s from a nightmare, a gasp leaving your throat and your stomach dropping at the image of Hangman having his way with you. You’re sweaty and sleep-ruffled, and you realize with a still-throbbing core that you’re clinging to one of his arms, rutting your hips against him like a man starved. 

Fuck. Fuck, your throat is dry which probably means that you’ve been moaning, god forbid his name, and- and he’s going to tell everyone that you’re desperate, and you’re never going to be able to look him in the eyes, and you might as well quit your job because he’s won and there’s nothing you’ll ever be able to do to make up for how ashamed you’re going to be… when he wakes up.

He’s asleep.

His lashes are softly resting above his strong cheekbones, lids covering eyes that did not witness you at your most vulnerable. He didn’t see, he’s been asleep- he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know, which means that you never have to talk about it, which means that you can go to the bathroom and take a cold shower and pretend that you woke up on the floor instead- maybe you’ll even tell him he kicked you off in the middle of the night so that he feels bad enough not to tease you for the day. And nobody ever has to know that he’s in your dreams, whether they be that or nightmares.

You stagger out from under the bedsheets and over to the small bathroom faster than you’ve ever been awake and alert in your life, and you’re instantly relieved by the sanctuary of the bathroom when it lets you shut a door between you and Jake.

--

The slamming of the door or the squeaking of the shower knobs is not what wakes Jake. It happened to be a very loud, very wanton cry barely minutes prior, when he’d woken to find your pinched-up face buried into the heated skin of his bicep. You’d whined and whimpered and moaned until a very sizeable tent had grown in his pants, and you’d fucked your hips onto his thigh over and over and over again until he’d felt a wet patch blossom that stuck his boxers to his thigh. He’d remained civil- respectful about it, keeping still even if his mind was racing, but when you’d suddenly moaned out his own name- Jake would have reached for his cock but that was when you’d woken, and he’d already had his eyes snapped shut in the desperation of conjuring a mental image of you writhing below him so that it seemed like he was still asleep. Blessedly disguised, Jake listens as you beeline for the bathroom, and when the door slams, his eyes fly open.

A quick glance beneath the sheet reveals a stain of translucent slick that’s soaked into his boxers, big enough to account for the way you’d been grinding so desperately onto his thigh. Knowing that you’d said his name, not Daniel or Damien or Dallas or Dalton or Devon- you’d been dreaming of him. It’s enough to have Jake frantically prying at the hem of his boxers, tugging on his cock with one rough fist while the other hand prods desperately at the wet spot on his boxers for something to lick up. Jake was the name you’d said, Jake is the man you’re thinking of.

--

Jake cannot be the man you’re thinking of. You don’t have nearly enough energy when you close yourself into the bathroom to shower right away, so you take to sitting dejectedly on the lid of the toilet rather than scrubbing down right away. But you feel dirty, you feel wrong for fantasizing about the jerk from work instead of the dreamboat you’d frenched in an elevator less than 24 hours prior. It’s not fair. Why does your brain have to latch onto Jake? Why can’t you just be peacefully separate from him, why does he have to nail himself to your door and bleed through the gaps? 

And why did he have to dress you in lingerie? 

You realize you’re staring down at your pink silk-covered stomach, and your nose scrunches when you note how little fabric there is to cover what’s between your legs. Christ, he couldn’t have dressed you in something a little more modest?

Although, you suppose, you didn’t bring anything more modest. Actually, the pink getup is probably the most modest nightgown you’ve got- you’d anticipated sex. So he gets a pass on that one, but you’re still peeved about the way he won’t leave your head. 

The shower is warm and being clean feels delightful against your slick skin, washing away the sins you’d rubbed into Jake’s thigh, but you’re so disturbed by your dream- or more so it’s subsequent meaning, that you can barely enjoy any of it.

In stepping out of the shower you realize you’d been in such a rush to get in that you’d forgotten to take clothes with you. But if you’re lucky, at least Jake will still be asleep, and you won’t have to endure any-

“Fancy droppin’ that towel, darlin’? Since you got in the shower without me, I figure it’s only fair I get to see what I missed.”

Any teasing. If Jake was still asleep, you wouldn’t have to endure any teasing. But there he is, hair tousled from sleep, eyes slightly bleary, but smirk in full force as he stares at your towel-clad form.

You’d be locked and loaded with a quip back any other day, but the memory of the pleasure writhing through your veins like blood itself at Jake’s hands has thrown you severely off-kilter. Instead you stand there, winded, lost for words as a strange and unexpected surge of tears sting at your eyes.

Jake notices, blinking as the smirk vanishes instantly from his face.

“Hey, woah, that’s- don’t do that. I was just teasing, don’t- don’t do that.”

“I’m not-” You defend uselessly, blinking rapidly as you back towards your suitcase, but Jake’s concern dims into something like disappointment.

He recites, “We didn’t do anything last night. You were shit-faced and you passed out the second you were in bed. I’m not…” He struggles, glancing away from you and towards the wall in thinly-veiled distaste, “I wouldn’t do that.”

You’re almost as stunned by the accusation as he seems. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind at all, but- in another man’s hands, you might not have been safe. You hadn’t felt a sliver of distrust towards Jake, and there’s something strange about that. Would you have felt comfortable going home with Daniel? Perhaps last night, several drinks in, you would have. But now you feel a strange camaraderie with Jake, now he feels familiar and safe and you’re glad he was the one to escort you to bed. You’re not used to respecting him, to relying on him, to letting your guard down around him. But you had, and you had even forgotten that you might not have been safe until he’d brought it up himself, convinced your crying fit is because of some awful thing you think he did to you last night.

You’d much rather use that excuse, but you’ll give credit where credit is due.

“I know,” You admit softly, clutching your towel tight around your body, “I didn’t think- thank you for taking me to bed.”

He doesn’t speak- he doesn’t think he ever could. But he nods, once, face tight and stiff because if it wasn’t it’d be soft. And you’d already shorn deep into his newly unguarded, tender flesh- he doesn’t need more wounds.

“Are we eating breakfast together?” Is your indirect way of asking- nay, demanding that he eat with you as thanks for the night prior without actually asking. Because asking would be crazy, you don’t even like him.

And you don’t want to eat with him, except for the fact that you eat with him near every day, and if you’re not going to be in a candlelight setting, you might be able to convince yourself that you’re not on a sex cruise, and that you’re just eating with your fri- teammate. That you’re just eating with your teammate, and all else can be ignored. Especially your dream.

“‘Was plannin’ on it. Hey, wear your bathing suit under that,” Jake nods at the romper you’ve chosen for the day, “We’re goin’ swimming after breakfast.”

You raise a brow at his tone, “Oh, are we? I was planning on meeting Daniel.”

“Where?”

“He mentioned going to the pizza place for lunch.”

Jake snorts, “Real romantic. Well, I walked by there the other day, and the pizza place is a poolside bar. So, put on that skimpy little bathing suit I saw in your suitcase, and you can swim with me until Danny-boy gets there.”

“I don’t want to swim with you,” You feel a little like a petulant toddler snapping back at him, but it’s true. You don’t want to be splashed and dunked and held down in what will surely prove to be the most stressful time you’ve ever had in a body of water- which is really saying something, because you’d had to eject into the Pacific before. Breakfast is one thing- a thank-you. This is different and you’d rather have a tooth pulled.

“Fine, then, princess. Sit on a lounge chair and read a book. I don’t care, just come with me.” You think this might be an invitation, a genuine hand outstretched amidst the numerous other jabs you’ve taken over the duration of your voyage so far. You meet his eye, but there’s a mischievous glint in them and it’s too late to stop him before he continues, “I’ve gotta keep my lady close, or else there’ll be a swarm of other passengers beggin’ to hang off my arm, and we’ll sink the ship if everyone rushes to one side.”

It’s pathetic to admit that you have nothing better to do than go with Jake. His cockiness creates scenarios that are so easy to refuse- so tempting to reject if only to see the light in his eyes fade into a more manageable dulled hue. Now though, you’re stuck. You’re not willing to spend the entire time on board locked away in your cabin hiding from Jake- you came for the fun and sun, dammit. And being in the sun sounds lovely, and the main character of the novel you’re reading will bring you a welcome respite from Jake until Daniel comes to sweep you off of your feet.

“I am not getting in the water,” You warn, fishing your bathing suit out of your suitcase while keeping a firm hold on your towel, “I am going to sit on a lounge chair and read a book. And you’re going to leave me alone, and do whatever it is you like doing in the pool. Chase those little diving rings, maybe?”

“I’m not six.” Jake wrinkles his nose in distaste, “I use the torpedoes, like a real man.”

Your eyes itch to roll back into your skull until they’re stuck there, and you never have to see his smug face again.

“Your torpedoes, then. Get my book from out of my bag,” You nod towards your purse, “And bring your own towel, because I’m not getting one for you.”

The door drowns out the beginning of Jake’s bitching when it slams behind you, but even in the tiled bathroom you can still hear him speak.

“-prissy today, aren’t you! Y’know, the hunk on the cover of this romance looks a lot like me. And- ohhh,” Jake’s wicked laugh instills fear- real, actual fear in your chest as you rush to get dressed, “This is one of them porn books, ain’t it?”

He’s holding the book like a trophy when you finally step out of the bathroom in your bikini, the way a fisherman would proudly display a 38 pound halibut. It’s got a cowboy on the front that’s wearing a hat similar to the one Jake wears at ‘Honky Tonk Night’ at the Hard Deck, and the female lead is draped over his chest, leaning in for a kiss.

“Wanna roleplay it, darlin’?” Jake moves forward, his free hand reaching for your waist to force you against him like you’re on the cover of your novel, “You could do exactly what it says on the cover, ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.”

You catch his arm instead and use it to give you leverage in your attempt to take back your book, but he’s holding it high over his head, and he’s tall even without his combat boots giving him a good extra inch or two. 

“Daniel’s got a bit of a southern drawl,” You choose to fight with words if you can’t win a battle of heights, and Jake’s bicep tightens in place as he tenses, muscles flexing.

“That boy’s got nothin’ on mine,” Jake tilts his chip upwards- ah, so you’ve hit a weak spot: that precious Texan heritage he boasts about.

“I like his better. It’s subtle, not too in-your-face.” You shrug, and now that Jake’s frozen, buffering, you’re able to reach up and take back your book without him fighting back. But he follows you when you step away, and your back hits the wall of the cabin when he leans forward and down to match your height.

“See that?” He inspects your expression, and even though you’re wide-eyed in bewilderment he finds something satisfying in it - “You like it when I’m in your face.”

Maybe it’s your proximity- the way his face is closer to yours than it was even in your dream last night, or maybe it’s the way he murmurs the words instead of boasting them, like they’re a secret. Something strips you of your ability to fire back, and you share a moment of silence before he pulls away and gathers a set of towels from the corner of the room.

He’s wearing his swim trunks already. You hadn’t noticed. Well, you’d noticed his lack of a shirt, but you hadn’t bothered to check what was below that. You’ve seen him in them before, a beach day with the dagger squad or a pool party for Penny’s birthday, but you’re not sure you’ve ever noticed the faint fish hook outlines on them.

“I can feel you lookin’,” Jake snickers, giving you a rather impressive view of his ass, “I’ll let you squeeze it if you admit Daniel’s not all that great.”

“The only thing I wanna squeeze is your neck, Hangman,” You scoff, hurriedly looking away from his ass and gathering your belongings- key card, phone, book that’s been discarded on the bed, “Now let’s get out of here before I change my mind and lock you out of our cabin.”

“Oh, but you’d be so bored in here without me,” Jake’s croon exudes fake sympathy, “Who would you bicker with all day?”

“Not Daniel.” You purr, grinning mischievously as you head for the elevators, your door clicking shut behind you as Jake nearly steps on your feet, “If I was with Daniel, he wouldn’t be able to talk through all the pussy on his tongue.”

That shuts him up.

The elevator ride is silent, and by the look on Jake’s face, you’d have thought he’d been declared a spare on a mission amongst a group of new recruits. HIs jaw is stone-set, sharp and tight, and his eyes bore uselessly but fiercely into the silver wall as the elevator moves up- something is brewing in that hard head of his.

Finally, some fucking peace and quiet.

Something about the ding of the elevator snaps him out of his funk, and he holds the door open to the breakfast hall for you with his signature shit-eating grin. It’s the same place you’d eaten lunch the day before, and you wish again for Daniel to knock knees with you beneath the table. It had been so cutesy, so intimate, so-

“Here,” Jake plucks two trays off of the stack, one for you and one for him, “I’ll hold it while you load up a plate.”

“I can do it myself,” You insist, snatching the tray from his hands and setting an empty plate on top of it, “I’m not falling for that act, Hangman. You’ll steal my breakfast if I let you hold it.”

“Now that’s not true,” He scolds, scooping eggs onto his plate, “I’ll steal it no matter what.”

The ship’s pancakes look surprisingly well-made, and you’re starting to marvel at how nice the amenities are for the price you’d paid. Maybe you’d been the guinea pig voyage, and they’re testing how feasible this sort of thing really is. 

“Hands off my syrup, Hangman,” You elbow him in the side, bumping him out of line for fresh pastries while you snag one for yourself, “I don’t want your sticky fingers getting all over my book.”

“So you do want me readin’ that thing,” He grins, reaching over you to pluck a chocolate croissant off of the tray, unbothered by your teasing, “I guess I’ll need to get into character. Tell me, how big is he? Anything under nine inches just won’t be realistic for me.”

“Please! I’ve heard things from Rooster,” You laugh, topping your plate off with butter packets, “Four is more like it.”

“You tell Rooster,” Hangman shoots a hand out, stopping you from snagging an empty seat at a table for two, “That he’s gotta stop swapping our measurements. Tell him to keep my name out of his mouth.” He pulls the chair out, clearly expecting you to sit.

Under his fiery, watchful gaze, you sit.

You don’t know what makes you do it; you’ve always felt Hangman’s faux-chivalry was condescending at best. He always seems to be mocking you- let me do it because you can’t, or let me do it because I don’t think you should.

Now it seems more like let me do it because I want to. And for that reason, you’ve obeyed.

Hangman’s terse mood from earlier seems to flicker in and out, but breakfast is pleasantly casual- nothing like your tense candlelight dinner the night before. 

“You’re lucky Phoenix isn’t here,” You raise your brows briefly at Hangman, eyeing the way he’s sprawled out over the bench, “She’d tell you to quit manspreading.”

“I like manspreading,” Hangman grins, thankfully concealing his mouthful of food in the process instead of showing it off, “Let’s everyone know what I’m working with.”

After a quick, fake look at his crotch, you decide, “Nothing?”

He takes the teasing good-naturedly, rolling his eyes and insisting, “You’re gonna be sorry when you find out how wrong you were, darlin’. First time y’see it your eyes are gonna bug out of your head.”

“I’d prefer not to see it at all,” Your nose wrinkles, “I’m perfectly happy with your current state of dress.”

“I know that’s right,” He snickers, “I saw you eyein’ up my tight little swim trunks earlier.”

“I was not.” You snap, but he’s only goaded into being further convinced, “Your back was to me, how could you have possibly known where I was looking?”

“I heard you stop moving the second I bent over,” He winks at you, and it’s a gaudy, grotesque display of cockiness, “You were transfixed, darlin’. One look and you forgot what you were doing.”

“That was because I couldn’t believe how skimpy your legs are,” You speak around a mouthful of pancakes, perhaps not the best etiquette but you’re not trying to impress anyone. “Next time you hit the gym, work on your calves.”

“Skimpy? Skimpy?” He shoves his foot into your lap, forcing you to stare at his exposed calf as you try avoiding the sole of his flip-flop on your bare stomach. You shriek, and you try tamping down laughter that threatens to escape as you attempt to shove him off of you. 

“These things are tree trunks,” Jake insists, and when you finally manage to wrestle his leg off of you he leaves it on your side of the table, his foot resting just beside your own, close enough to touch.

“You want some?” Jake offers you a forkful of scrambled eggs, but you shake your head, leaning away from the fork.

“Fine. Picky.” Jake shrugs, eating the eggs himself, “How come you’ll eat off of Payback’s fork but not mine? You think you’ll get all blushy if our lips touch the same thing?”

“I’m thinking I’ll vomit, not blush,” You correct him, “Payback brushes his teeth every once in a while, so eating off of his fork’s no big deal.”

“Damn, you’re vicious today!” Hangman observes, but he doesn’t settle into the back of the seat like you’d expected him to. It unnerves you when he leans forwards, “I brush my teeth twice a day,” He insists, and this time his antics are a little more intense than hiking his foot into your lap, “See?”

He stands so that he can lean farther over the table, flashing his grin in your face like you’re the lens of a camera he’s modeling for. It’s so forcibly charming, so irritatingly dazzling that leaning away- showing weakness - doesn’t even cross your mind, and you’re stuck staring at his pearly whites mere inches away from them, a sour scowl on your face.

“No cavities in sight,” He drawls, “But if you don’t believe me, you can inspect it yourself. Thinkin’ your tongue might work.”

“You’re a sicko,” You decide, your face blank, if not a smidge downturned as you sit inches away from Jake’s grin in full-force, “Sit down, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“I’m embarrassing you.” He corrects, sinking back into the plush booth with a hiss of air and the spreading of his legs once more, “I can tell you’re blushin’ over there.”

“Must be an allergic reaction to something,” You sigh morosely, observing your plate, “There’s probably an ungodly amount of chemicals in all of this.”

“Tastes fresh to me,” Jake shrugs, reaching his fork across the table to pick at your fruit, “Give me that.”

“No- not the melon!” You clash your fork against his, an ugly scraping sound created by metal-on-metal as you fight to protect your fruit, “You can take anything else, just not the melon!”

“You can have my melons,” A smooth, melodious voice straight out of a porn intro comes from beside the table, and you and Jake look up in unison to see a woman in stiletto pumps and a skirt standing next to your seats.

Jake barely takes a second to process her bold words, and his face melts like butter into that greasy grin he’s always sporting around the ladies.

“Is that so? Well, thank you darlin’, that’s very kind of you. Might take you up on that if this one keeps holding out for a nobody.”

Jake points his fork vaguely, uncaringly at you, eyes still glued to the woman’s low neckline- her melons are, admittedly, nothing to sneeze at.

You find yourself incapable of speaking, so you take to pulverizing your fruit on your tongue instead of talking to the woman.

Once she and Jake have properly eye-fucked she struts away, and your nose curls to make way for a sneer at the clicking of her heels on the floor.

“What a bitch.” You retort, and Jake’s all-too-pleased with your indignance, “And those fucking heels? Who wears heels to breakfast on a cheap cruise?”

“Hey, I thought you were into all that girls-supporting-girls stuff,” Jake munches on a grape, “Ain’t that a little judgy? Maybe she feels pretty in the heels.”

“Girls support girls’ girls,” You insist, shaking your head disapprovingly, as Jake tries processing the tongue twister, “She was not a girls’ girl. She was trying to take my man!”

“Your man? I’m your man now?” Jake leans forward again, suddenly extremely interested in you rather than Miss Miniskirt, “When did that happen? The second someone else tried snatching me up?”

“No, you’re not my man,” You scoff, fork clattering against your plate, “But when we’re on a sex cruise together as unfortunate roommates, and we’re dining together, conversation flowing, clearly engaged with each other- when you were just leaning across the table asking me to lick your teeth two seconds ago- no girls’ girl would swoop in and try to take you away from me!”

“I think you’re just jealous,” Hangman points that damn fork at you again, and you still in your seat, prickling with annoyance, “I think you’re pretending to be all wrapped up in Daniel so that I go crazy, but it almost backfired on you when she started chattin’ me up. Hell, you called me your man! You can’t have it both ways, Y/N. Either let me go, or make me stay.”

“Go.” You seethe, eyes flashing with anger, with the indignance of being accused of puppetting him. You’ve been on edge this whole voyage, but something about his audacity combined with the sheer mortification of your dream last night means that your mouth is running without a filter. “I’m not pretending anything, Hangman, and- and I’m not going to ‘make you stay’, that’s ridiculous! I’m interested in Daniel. If you really want a woman who swoops in on what looks like a couple, then by all means, have at her. But you don’t get to bitch about Daniel and then act like I’m some controlling monster when I try to stop you from talking to bad ideas.”

“I’m not bitching about Daniel,” There’s a dangerous edge to Jake’s voice, the one that’s typically heard on the tarmac, “I’m trying to-”

“You’re trying to control me!” You accuse, and now it’s you that wields the fork, aiming it violently at Jake.

“I wasn’t done.” Jake snaps, but you don’t care.

You continue over his meager protests, “You are bitching about Daniel, 24/7. You’re trying to knock him out of the way so that you can schmooze me like you schmooze women back home, and it’s not going to work. You use people, Hangman, you hook up with women and then you push them away like they’re pathetic when they try staying with you for longer than a night! But I know you better than they do, and I won’t fall for it. You think I’m dumb? You think I don’t realize how much of a leg up you’d have at work if you got to tell everyone I fell for your little game? That’s why you want it so bad,” You huff, “You’re, like, obsessed with winning now- because I fly with you, and because I’m the only woman who’s ever told you no, you’re going crazy trying to get me to say yes! You are the one freaking out whenever Daniel talks to me! You are the one that’s clinging desperately to the unfortunate coincidence of us being roommates, and you are the one who refuses to let go. You won’t win. You cannot make me stay.”

Jake’s mouth had been open during your vicious speech, ready to fire back in a tone that would have made your skin crawl, but when you finish off, it falls shut. He stares, on the brink of disaster, one slip of the controls away from tailspinning. He’s always been like that: dangerous. 

You don’t give him the option to spin out.

“I’m not hungry anymore. You know what? You can have the fucking melon,” You stand, dumping your remaining fruit unceremoniously onto Jake’s plate as he stays frozen stiff, watching, “Maybe you’ll get lucky and score hers, but I doubt she’ll be interested if she’s not competing with anyone anymore.”

You barely remember to grab your belongings on the way out of the breakfast hall, and you don’t spare Jake another glance as you beeline for the elevators.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[bunnyreaper]

Hello! First of all, I LOVE your blog!! Could you please do forced breeding with John Price if you haven't? Maybe older roomate Price..

ahh hi, thank you!

older roommate!price, who you moved in with due to a recommendation from a friend in the military. otherwise you probably would've been pretty hesitant to move in with any kind of older guy, but your friend assured you john price was a good, decent man.

plus he was barely ever there--basically a guest in his own flat rather than anything else. most of the time you had free reign as he was deployed or on base. when he was home, he was incredibly courteous--neat and organised and not at all a nuisance.

you knew john worked hard, saw some shit, so when he was home you liked to cook and bake for him, grab him beers and keep him company--and you managed to only blush a little when he made a joke about how you're basically his young, pretty housewife.

the truth is that you want him, bad. you shouldn't have a crush on your older roommate who surely doesn't view you in that way. but it's hard to not feel something when he greets you in the kitchen, tight shirt and grey sweatpants, a lazy smile as he reaches around you to grab a mug--all while telling you something smells amazing (and those baby blues are looking straight at you and not the food)

or when you're sat watching a movie together and you get distracted watching the way his hand wraps around the neck of the beer bottle you just fetched for him (while he gave you a wink and a thanks, love) or the way his neck bobs as he swallows or how he so happily will watch anything with you even if he hates it.

so it shouldn't have surprised you too much when he caught you staring, and finally decided to do something about it. everything changed in an instant as he pulls you into his laps, fingers splaying over your thighs as he pushes you down onto his clothed, hard cock.

he takes everything slow, stripping you down while he remains dressed--kissing your cheek, your neck, the tops of your breasts. he makes you drip and tremble, systematically undoes you under tender kisses and lingering touches that move closer and closer to where you need him most.

he has you exposed, fully at his disposal as he lounges back and pushes his sweatpants down, freeing his thickness that looks way too fucking big to be inside you. with the way he's touching you, with the way he's rubbing the head through your slick, drippy holes, it's so hard to think. and he just leads so naturally, coaxes you into everything he wants under his convincing touch and devilish lips.

you know you should say something when he slips inside, you know you should tell him he has to pull out but it just feels so fucking good. he's older, experienced, knows exactly how to touch you, how to roll your hips against him in just the right way to steal your breath from you.

and he looks so fucking feral, driving his cock as deep inside you as it'll possibly go, grinding himself against your insides and getting lost in the pleasure. you're practically a doll on top of him, being manipulated by his large, rough hands. "feels too good, love. jus' wanna make you feel good too. you deserve it, f'being my little wife."

wife. the word shoots through you like lightning, not technically true and yet so accurate in many ways. you keep his home warm, keep his belly fed and now have committed to keeping his balls drained. all the duties a good little wife tends to. you moan out deliciously, lost in the idea of being his.

his arms wrap around your waist, anchoring you to him with no escape.

"how about i make you a mother, yeah?" he coos, rocking in deeper--clearly losing his mind with the pleasure. "really make you mine."

it's just the dirty talk, you convince yourself, its not something he's going to actually do.

"ill come home knowing I have a pretty little thing like you growing my kid." his words turn to growls, his arms like a vice around you as panic sets in and you try to wriggle free. "john, please I don't--" it's hard to finish your sentence with the surge of pleasure as he bounces you up and down his length, latches onto your neck with a filthy kiss. you're so young, and he's so much older, you can't become a mother...

and yet every movement of john's hips brings you closer and closer to that eventuality, his strength too much for you to overcome as you try to free yourself from your fate.

john's eyes fix on yours, something so soft in his gaze despite the way he's forcing you to take his cum. "shhh, i know what's best for yer, promise, darling. just let me fuck a kid into you."

[gurugirl]

Gurugirl's Wattpad & Tumblr Fic Recs

Anything you read in these masterlists won’t disappoint but I’ve picked my absolute favorites from each blog and listed below.

NOTE: I did my best to include all my faves here but I've probably forgotten a few. I intend to add to this list (may need to make a part 2 once I hit my mentions and link limits) because I'm always reading new fics so come back often!

Angst recs (all taken from list below but specific to the more angsty ones)

Daddy kink

Enemies to lovers

Summer vibes & party fics

Personal faves from my own writings

Other blogs I love

Tumblr

@1d1195

One Shot: Right Here: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc.

@a-strange-familiar

Series: His Memories (3 parts): you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other. And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.

@adorebeaa

One shot: Undo Me: YN reveals a kink in front of best friend!Harry, who is curious…

@awideworldoffanfics

Series: Milking the Grip (5 parts): Harry Styles is a single dad who golfs every Tuesday. Y/N is his babysitter who also happens to work at the golf course he goes to. They’ve never run into each other there. Until they do.

@be-with-me-so-happily

Series: My Way Back Home: YN is left to figure out what to do when the love of her life, Harry, does not remember loving her. (AU)

Series: Don't Worry Darling: Y/N has her first big break as an actress as she lands the leading role in 'Don't Worry Darling'. The only problem is that her co-star is Harry Styles, who she feels has a very big ego. Tensions rise the more they film. All kinds of tension...

One Shot: Friendly Favor: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.

Series: Laceleaf: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.

@bopbopstyles

Masterlist (anything you pick here will be a pleasure - seriously)

@fkinavocado

Series: Daddy Issues: in which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them. (daddy!harry, dilf!harry)

Series: Hard Candy: in which Harry owns a candy store and he just loves giving good girls special treats… especially after closing time (candyman!Harry)

One Shots & Blurbs: Long Hair Harry One Shots & Blurbs

@freedomfireflies

Series: Playboy: Welcome to 1965, where the women are loose, and the morals are looser. Here you'll meet Michelle and Harry. You don't need to know too much about them. Just that they're both incredibly bold...and incredibly jealous. The summer of June 1965 was a rather wild one for the Playboy Bunnies but even more wild for our two dear friends. Stick around and I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you all about it. You just have to promise one little thing... Don't tell Hefner.

Series: Teach Me: 5 parts - Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?

Series: Mafia!harry: 2 parts so far - more to come - Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right. Exhibition kink!!

@goldenbuckyyy

Series: Illicit Affairs: A series of events between your affair with Harry. (Cheating together)

@harryistheonlyoneforme

One Shot: Little Freak: pairing: dbf harry x reader (so hot - so many kinks all in one little shot - must read)

@harrywritingsbyme

Sneaking Around (a series of shorts): Best friends dad - FUCKING HOT

@helladirections

Series: Brother's Best Friend: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words. 

One Shot: Under Summer Skies: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.

One Shot: Moka Pot: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together? 

@itslottiehere

One Shot: I Don't Want to Hear About Him (angsty): bff!harry writes a song about bff!reader.. and her boyfriend.

@jawllines

Harry is Y/n's Criminology Instructor (2 parts)

Harry is a single dad and y/n is surprisingly good at babysitting (2 parts)

Harry & y/n are witches, they hate eachother, and something's coming (3 parts)

Y/n knows something she shouldn't and Harry does what on Fridays? (4 parts) - Boxer!harry

Harry is a grumpy mechanic and y/n just can't stop talking (4 parts)

@jarofstyles

King of the Jungle (multi part series): Y/N’s family works for a wildlife preservation society and Harry is king of the jungle or tarzan!harry

Lone Wolf (multi part series): Harry is a grumpy alpha who has given up on finding his mate or werewolf!harry

Beauty & the Beast (multi part series): Harry is a moody, withdrawn but successful creature who needs a companion who can tend to his… needs.

@lemoncrushh

Series: The Entertainer: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones meets Harry Styles, an up and coming musician and soon-to-be rockstar. The Entertainer Part II

One Shot: Dressing For Revenge: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him. Part II

@lukesaprince

Series: Intruder: You were an outside hire for a promotion Harry wanted, and he despises you for it. The hatred is mutual since Harry is a bit of an asshole, until the day of an important presentation where the tension is finally dealt with - A very steamy enemies to lovers romance (domrry)

Series: The Roommate Series: After Y/N’s best friend and roommate Alex decides to move out, she’s desperate for someone to take her place. Alex seems to have found the solution in a British fresh-to-New-York musician who ticks all the boxes. He just happens to be insanely attractive and charismatic… what could go wrong? (friends to lovers)

Series: Fratboy!harry You Can Pretend All You Want: You hate fratboys and everything they stand for, so you decide to prove one wrong by sleeping with him… safe to say it backfires (fratboy!harry, enemies to lovers).

Series: Rich: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.

@moonchildstyles

Series: Aster: Harry is a tattoo artist and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her. tattoo artist!harry / lhh!harry

Series: Citrine: Harry's a witch and it's been along time since since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he was getting y/n out of his head. witch!harry

Series: Chiaroscuro: y/n needed a job but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger. vampire!harry

Series: Prosecco: Harry is just on the edge of 30 and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated. older!harry

@0oolookitsme

One Shot: Dazzled: In which Harry has an uneasy feeling about Y/n’s new mission but the devil ignores his guts’ screams. But the vampire as well as his fiancé, Y/n, isn’t dumb and is quick to listen and take some weight off of his shoulders. They both soon find out, why, he was feeling uneasy. 

One Shot: Anything For You... And I: SMUTTY!!!! Dwd!Harry x Dwd-Character!Y/n

@0nlythrowharrybeaux

Friends Share (2 parts):Harry & Y/N have been practically perfect roommates for several years but the appearance of a hot new neighbor creates an unexpected shift in their relationship.

Unavailable (2 parts): Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.

@pleasingforharry

Moans & Elevator Music (2 parts): Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.

@purplekiwis

Breaking the Ice (2 parts): Hockey!Harry x Skater!Y/N It’s no secret that as a figure skater, you’re fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty… and your ex’s status as a player isn’t helping much either.

In the Witching Hours (will be 3 parts): Wizard!Harry x Witch!Y/N; Soulmates AU An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events but luckily, there’s a cute, shy wizard around…

One shot: Tentmate: Friends With Benefits Y/N has always hated camping… until her and Harry got stuck together in the same tent. (This one is smutty AF)

@s-brant

Series: The Getaway Car: In a drug deal gone wrong, Y/N, daughter to a famous racecar driver, finds herself behind the wheel of a car with a gun to her head. A masked man named Harry demands she helps him evade the authorities, so she does the only thing she knows how to. She drives.

One Shot: Midas Touch: The night before they leave to spend Christmas with his family, a conversation with their friends makes Harry and Y/N confront the future of their marriage.

@stylesloveclub

Series: Pleasing: In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry is a Michelin star chef who thinks she’s cuter than a puppy. 

@swiftmendeshoran

Series: Curvy Secret/No More Secrets Daddy: Dad's best friend (dbf!) Harry x plus size reader

@watchmegetobsessed

Series: The Sun Will Rise: You’re glad to be back at college and away from your family. Everything is back to its normal, but you have a little issue: you told your family you’d bring a date to your sister’s wedding, but you have no actual partner. An unexpected deal is made with the person you couldn’t even consider to be your friend: Harry can take the spare room in your apartment for the semester if he’ll be your date for the wedding. But can you actually live together with a guy who obviously dislikes you and you have no idea why? Can you fool your parents into thinking you’re dating Harry? And what will they think about him? Nothing is ever good enough to them, nothing that’s not as perfect as your sister, Alice.

Series: Wildest Fantasies: You’ve been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles’ Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.

Good Girl (Part 2): sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader

@writerpetals (writes optional male lead smut but you can easily imagine any male *coughharrycough* as the males are described as tall, well-built, with a nice head of hair - read anything this author writes - it's good, you will find almost any trope - ENJOY)

One Shot: Lakeside: werewolf!au, werewolf x reader

@zayndrivesmeinvain

Series (wip): The One That Got Away: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone? dadrry x oc | single dad!harry

i hit my link limits so was unable to insert link to part one of their series. check out their masterlist and you'll find it!

Wattpad

_miiki

Series: Artwork & Aquarelle: "Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away.

Aggressivelyfriendly = @aggresivelyfriendly

Series: Who Names the Colors: In the last year, Joanne Smith Giles, has once again become Jo Smith. In another heartbreaking turn of events, she's also the single mother of an infant, again. She knows she can do this on her own, and better at 40 than 19, but it seems weird to be launching a son into manhood, a new career as an art professor, and changing nappies all in one day. She is so thankful when Ethan, her boy, comes home from Uni. Jo could use the help. His best friend, Harry, comes round too. And his launch into manhood may be another heartbreaking turn, for all of them

ErinAlterEgo = @yourwattpadmom

Series: Late night Talking: Alex is craving something at night, and it's not ice cream. Encouraged by her husband to explore a polyamory relationship to meet some of her more....eclectic tastes, she finds herself on a dating app for the first time in her life. She expected maybe some interesting experiences, possibly her first one-night stand ever. She didn't expect to meet a man who made her question everything about herself. Harry is on a new path in his life that is exciting and different than he ever could have imagined. He's looking for excitement, experiences, but definitely not love and attachment. When he meets Alex, he sees a whole new path that he's unsure he wants to go down, but finds it hard to resist.

Hitterj (love all of her stuff!)

Series: All This Time: The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?

Series: Kiwi: If you don't know about this one by now... go read it - super duper smutty and sweet and angsty

Series: Sweet Little Lies: All her life, Ivy Malone has known what her family was. She grew up in the deep, unforgiving world of the mob. Ivy hates her position in life, knowing that her life was never fully hers. Harry Styles was cold. He trusted almost no one, especially his family. He had learned quickly that everyone was waiting for him to fail... to fall. An empire built by his father from the blood and bones of those who stepped in his way was all he had, no matter how much he hated it. He had no choice but to carry on the legacy. And marrying Malone's daughter was the next step in fortifying their defense. With new rivals making a move for power and a mysterious figure haunting the crime families of Queenstown, Ivy and Harry have to learn to live together. A bad start leads them down a tumultuous, passionate, and downright dangerous path, but maybe they were exactly what the other needed to live the life they always craved.

MysteryMixtapes (Just go read all their stuff)

Series: Stall & Stall 2: Violence/gangs/dark

Series: Perspective: Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying?

Series: Unforgettable: "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?"

Peanutboyfriend (read all of Birdie's stuff - you won't regret it)

Series: Aerial: In Malibu, California in 1965, a surfer and world-famous aerialist undergoes a chain of comedic and not-so-comedic mishaps that force him to re-evaluate who he is.

Petit_cerise

Series: Devil's Due & Devil's Desire: Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back.

Sunflowersnstuff

Series: One Word & Wonderland: We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.

ThousandYearsOfHope

Series: Lonely Nights: Willow Mackey is a quiet girl, but she is fiercely loyal and will never lie to you. Harry Styles is her brother's best friend, and someone she'll always have a soft spot for. Grown up and no longer shielded by their ages, lines start to blur, and mistakes keep being made. For the first time in her life, Willow realises that sometimes, the truth is too painful to hear. But how could she ever say no to the one person that's always understood her better than she understands herself?

Series: Pretty Boy: One night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.

Writhali (I really like everything I've read by Thali)

Series: Ambit: Gangs/violence/action/SMUT - "Hell's boring, Birdie." He claims, that cold, dead stare back to his eyes. "And this, this is what I call a Monday night."

[james-is-here]

You're a staff member but also Chan's boyfi

"Okay, How much time do I have?" You ask as you walk into the room with a small glob of paint on your palm, shoving the paint tube into your back pocket before putting your palms together and grimacing slightly at the coldness.

"Not much. Five minutes? Maybe?" You met Chan at the center of the room, still spreading the paint around to try and warm it up. "Wait, where's the jacket?" "I thought you left it in the dressing room? We're still gonna have to blow dry the paint." He stood in front of you shirtless and only wearing slacks and a belt. "Oh right. So probably less than five minutes."

You sigh, separating your hands. "Alright, what's your plan this time Christopher?" You tilt your head and he chuckles. "Kiss me." You snicker, dropping your head as you giggle. "Sir, that's not very work appropriate." You lift your head and smile back at him.

You step closer, Chan lightly holding your hips as your hands hover by his neck. "It's still cold, just warning you." You mutter before leaning in and kissing him, placing your hands on his jaw, causing him to inhale sharply and pull away. "I told you it was cold!" "Didn't know it was that cold." "Don't worry, it'll be warmer soon." You smirk and pull him back in for a kiss.

You remove your hands from his jaw and place them on his pecs, then your right one on his abs as your left wraps around his right bicep. Then you pull back with a sigh. "Need more paint." You pout slightly and Chan's right hand moves to your ass, lingering slightly before he takes the paint out of your pocket and puts more on your palm. "You're enjoying this aren't you?" You smile, spreading the paint on your palms. "Very much."

Chan captures your lips again and you try your best to ignore the paint and simply act how you usually do, tilting your head and slipping your tongue past his lips, your hands dragging paint down his sides as you hold his waist then slide them to his lower back. You remove your right hand and press a hand print in the same spot, then one under his left shoulder blade, then your left hand moves to place a print directly on his right shoulder blade.

Your hands drag paint down his back, your left hand sliding to his left side and your right moving back down to his lower back then his hip. You resist pulling him closer and instead pull back and ask for more paint. Spreading the paint one last time, you place a hand at the base of his neck and smirk into the kiss he pulls you back into only for you to pull away again.

"Move this." "Mn, you can't." "Come on, it'd be so worth it and you know it." "Jagi, that is incredibly risky and you know it." "Channie, this whole thing is risky but Stay won't know. They'll just speculate but again you know it'll be worth it." Chan sighs, his hands removing themselves from your waist to shift the front of his pants down slightly only huffing when he realizes it'll be better to just undo his belt.

Once undone, he moves the waistband of his boxers out of the way before watching you place a handprint that would be sticking out from his waistband. "Yeah, Stay is gonna love that." "You are taking full responsibility." "Gladly."

Kissing him again, you move your hands back up and drag the rest of the paint on your palms down his chest, over his abs, basically trying to get the rest of the wet paint off your hands and he giggles against your lips when your hands find his waist and squeeze before smearing paint. "Okay, Okay, now you're just using me as a towel." He smiles as he pulls back and you squeeze his waist again. "Only slightly." You pull back enough to look at him and nod.

"Perfect." "Oh really? Maybe you should paint with Hyunjin." You look away from your handiwork and meet his eye. "In what context?" He laughs, jaw dropping at how fast you replied. "Oh, I don't know, maybe actual painting? On a canvas maybe?" Chan places the tube of paint back in your back pocket as he huffed out small laughs. "W-What do y-you mean what c-context?" He asked through his laughter.

"Have you seen Hyunjin? You may be my boyfriend but I am just a man who knows~" You drag out, poking his stomach and he flinches at the ticklish feeling. "How to appreciate~ good looking men." "How long have you been ogling Hyunjin?" He asks as you turn towards the door to leave, holding your hands behind your back. "Oh, I ogle all of you." You say quickly before spinning around and walking backwards. "Come on, gotta blow dry you." "I- Wait, no, come back here." He quickly checks the paint of the print on his pelvis before fixing his pants and following you.

You grin as he followed you but stop when you both notice Felix who was ready for his solo. "Woah, you sure went full out for this one." His eyes flick to the very low hand print before widening. "Who did it?" He asked as if it wasn't obvious but you still moved your hands from behind your back and showed him your hands. "Who else, Lix?" "Oh, right." He laughed before walking away.

"Okay, come on, I gotta wash my hands and you need blow dried." "You mean I need blown?" You drop your hands and glare at Chan who's smiling innocently with his usual dimples smile and wide grin. "Go." You point towards the group dressing room and he laughs. "I love you." He giggles as he kisses your cheek and walks to the room. "Whatever, I love you, too, I guess." You roll your eyes fondly and follow him with a small smile.

If you wash your hands later and there's a faint grey stain on your hands, you don't say anything. You'll let Chan find out when he cleans it off after his solo while you proceed to purchase a new paint that won't stain.

[lottesreads]

Why Me? - Part 12

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, some angst, mentions of nightmares, mentions of PTSD, swearing, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, therapy (we love), mentions of death/being sick, mentions of limb loss (it'll all make sense),

Word Count: 9500

Summary: Everyone prepares for the storm, and you're left with a lot to think about as some forgotten feelings come back.

A/N: Hiiii guys, I am so sorry this took SO LONG. For some reason it was so hard to write and school started so ya know how that goes. But hopefully this makes up for it?? I love all of you and as always I hope you enjoy. Reblogs and comments feed my life force just btw

p.s. you know I love to hear what you think, so fire away

Masterlist

Bob knows he messed up. He knows that, and as much as he wishes he never put you in this situation to begin with, he can’t undo what he said. Things have just gone completely downhill since he told you how he felt and it just…. feels like it’s all his fault. You’re quiet, secluding yourself, and almost scared at work now. But there’s not much he can do if you refuse to open up to him. He can’t help but worry for you, but it’s up to you now. If you want to talk to him, great. If not, he just hopes you talk to someone else.

The wind has slowly been gaining speed since early this morning when he took Sylvia out for a run. It was his last chance to get her out of the house before the shit hit the fan and he wasn’t gonna keep her cooped up anymore than she had to be. He’s been in a daze since yesterday. Can’t quite seem to focus on anything he puts before him, including the several garden gnomes and pieces of porch furniture belonging to his neighbors.

“You sure all of this will fit in the garage?”, he asks while carrying a chair down from the front steps.

“Oh I’m sure”, Rich replies. His eyes have been more focused on placing their gnome collection inside the house, but he’s been making room for everything else in the garage. He’s skeptical as he eyes the rest of the room, they’ve still got to fit their cars inside, too. He’s sure if he moved a couple of those storage bins to a higher shelf he’d be able to-

“You’ve already done enough for us, why don’t you come inside for some sweet tea, huh?”

“I’m ok”, he tries to brush him off.

“I’m not taking no for an answer Bob”, Rich offers with a raise of his thick eyebrow. Bob gives in, like he does most of the time with these two, and follows Rich inside. Harry sits at the table as he wraps up the rest of their pointy-hat clad lawn ornaments, but pauses at the sight of his husband.

“How’s everything going out there?”

“We’re just about done”, Rich responds from behind the fridge door, “I thought we deserved a water break.” Bob laughs to himself, he really hasn’t done much except move a couple pieces of furniture. He probably could have been finished by now if they didn’t keep offering him water or tea.

“Oh that reminds me”, Harry turns to his husband, “We need to bring the hose from the side of the house in. I forgot when I finished watering the garden yesterday.” Bob isn’t able to take one step in the direction of the door before Rich urges him into the seat across from Harry.

“Don’t you worry about that one young man, I got it.”

“It’s really no trouble-”

“I insist, you take a seat and drink your tea. You can take a turn listening to Harry complain for once.” Rich slides a glass of sweet tea in front of Bob before patting Harry on the shoulder and stepping outside.

“I just wish I could help you boys more”, Harry starts. “But ya know the leg starts acting up whenever a storm is coming.” He emphasizes his point by tapping his metal prosthetic onto the side of the table, shaking it the slightest bit. Bob’s never sure if he’s talking about the actual prosthetic hurting, or what’s left of his leg, but at this point he’s too scared to ask. All he knows is that whenever he gets a call from Harry early in the morning, there’s bound to be a storm before the day’s over. This time however, he got his weather from the news, like a normal person.

“So-”, Harry starts as Bob takes a swig from his glass, “Are we going to be seeing Miss Mitchell anytime soon?” The sweet tea halts in Bob’s throat, sliding down the wrong tube and causing him to choke on the beverage. He does his best to not drop the glass onto the table in order to stop himself from spraying the drink everywhere, but Harry looks like he could care less as his brow raises. Bob clearly was not expecting him to bring you up, and Harry’s squint gives into the fact he’s happy to catch him off guard.

“I’d make an assumption, but I’m not quite sure how to make one out of that kind of reaction.” Bob continues trying to clear his throat by coughing, but Harry waits.

“No”, he chokes, “She uh- she won’t be coming by anytime.” Harry hums to himself as he turns back to the bubble wrap.

“That’s too bad. She was quick, I liked her.” Me too, Bob thinks to himself. He just gives him a slight frown at the news. “Seemed like you were pretty fond of her, too.” Bob’s cheeks heat up at his insinuation, and he tries to make a run for it.

“Ok! I should probably go help-”

“Sit back down”, Harry groans. Bob begrudgingly does as the man says as he begins to toy with the condensation forming on his glass. “All I’m saying is, you both obviously like each other. What gives?” All he can do is shake his head at the thought. There’s too much, but maybe he’ll understand.

“There’s just a lot of other stuff involved.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Well, for starters her title isn’t ‘Miss’... it’s Lieutenant.” Bob’s gaze flicks over to watch Harry’s eyes widen in realization.

“Shit. Is she a WSO, too?”

“Nah, she’s a pilot”, he smiles, “A damn good one.” Harry chuckles as he crosses his arms.

“I shoulda known.” Bob furrows his brows, silently asking him to explain. “She just had this look in her eye…Can’t really explain it.” Bob knows the one. The silent determination he sees whenever you climb into the cockpit. No matter what happens on the ground, once you ascend that ladder… you’re focused. And no one can take that away from you.

“So that’s it then? You're just gonna let her go?” Harry probes as Bob shakes his head. He focuses on a grain of wood in the table, avoiding the man’s gaze.

“It’s against strict rules”, Bob shrugs, “I don’t want to be the reason she gets into trouble. It’s better if we just leave it.”

“Is it?” Bob grabs his glass of sweet tea and takes a sip before Harry leans forward in his seat, “If I know anything about you Bob, it’s that you’ve got a level head on those shoulders. And from what I can tell about Lieutenant Mitchell, it’s that she does, too. But you can’t forget underneath all of that, you have hearts. You can’t leave that out of the equation.” Bob stills as he taps his finger on the rim of his glass. Yeah, Bob has a heart, but you do, too. And who knows if deep down this is what you really want? If he’s what you really want.

His thoughts are interrupted by Harry once again, this time as he finishes wrapping up the last gnome.

“Mitchell, huh?” Bob mindlessly nods. “You don’t happen to know if she’s got any family who served, do ya?”

“Yeah, actually. Her dad just happens to be our captain. Pete Mitchell-”

“Maverick?!”, Harry all but yells. “That cocky motherfucker’s still in service?” The front door slams shut as Rich makes his way back inside.

“What cocky motherfucker are we talking about?”, he asks as if this is a normal topic of conversation for the two of them.

“Pete Mitchell”, Harry tells him as he stares at Bob in awe.

“Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time”, Rich replies as he grabs himself and Harry their own drinks. Bob pivots in his seat as Rich brings both glasses to the counter, eyes wide in shock. “Don’t tell me-” He’s obviously already made the connection as Harry nods at him. He simply shrugs and continues to pour their drinks, brushing off the fact that Harry seems to be stuck on. Something he thought Rich of all people would want to talk about.

“Did you fly with him?” Bob directs the question at Harry. He rolls his eyes.

“For a very brief time. He’s a few years younger than me, but always acted like he was the best of the best. Didn’t even win the goddamn Top Gun trophy.”

“Well”, Rich chimes in as he sets the glass in front of Harry, “That wasn’t entirely his fault.” Bob’s eyes unintentionally squint as he tries to think back on what he actually knows about your dad. There’s very limited information he sought after Hangman revealed he flew with Rooster’s dad, and- then it hits him.

“Wait”, he stops the two men, “Were you guys here when they had the accident?”

“I wasn’t”, Harry responds, “But Rich was. He was actually one of the-” Rich’s hand claps down on his husband’s shoulder, effectively stopping him from finishing the story. He grants Bob a forced smile.

“I was. It was a… a very sad day.” Rich keeps moving, leaving his glass of tea untouched as he moves the box of packed up gnomes to the living room. Bob leaves it at that. If there was more to the story he wouldn’t want to probe where he’s not welcome to.

After helping move the small outdoor coffee table into the garage, he insists on parking their cars himself. Just to make sure he did leave enough room for everything to fit. And with his many years experience with Tetris, he’s able to pack anything that the wind might sweep away into safe hiding spaces for the night.

-----------------------

If the puffy eyes that greet you in the mirror are any indication that you’d been crying, the wad of tissues scattered around your trash can would certainly do the trick. It was an ugly cry, one that you realized was futile to resist against the snot dripping down your nose. You’d cried more in the past couple months than you had in the past five years. Not to mention you haven’t cried to the point where you kept a roll of toilet paper to use as tissues next to your bed since you were a teenager. But even then you had mastered to cry in silence, to not alert anyone or “bother” someone with the noise of your anguish.

It wasn’t a question that was the reason for your headache. You even forgot you got hit in the face until you tried wiping the sleep from your eyes, only to pull your hand away as soon as it brushed near the red and purple bruise.

“Son of a bitch”, you muttered as you made your way to the bathroom. The wind howls outside your room as you splash your face with cold water, hoping to reduce the swelling before inevitably seeing your father. Gently, you wipe your face with a towel, taking a good hard look at the aftermath from the night before. You huff out a breath before tearing your gaze away from the mirror, gathering the tissues you’d thrown half-heartedly in the direction of the trash can the night before.

Your father is already up and moving as you descend the stairs. Granted, you did allow yourself to sleep in today. He’s sitting on the couch, slipping his shoes on when you make eye contact. He immediately smiles with a grimace upon seeing your face.

“Hey sweetheart”, he greets you, “How you feeling this morning?” You simply scoff and turn to the kitchen. The coffee machine is still warm, your dad already having at least his second cup of the day.

“Like I got hit in the face”, you respond. The machine hums while you let it work, and you grab an emblazoned Navy mug from the cabinet. You turn to lean on the counter, watching him finish lacing up his boots. “Where are you going?”

“Well, Penny’s moving everything at the bar and I figured since I took care of our stuff yesterday, I’d go help out. Plus it’ll be my last chance to take the bike for a spin this weekend.”

“And they say chivalry is dead”, you comment as the coffee seeps into your cup. He chuckles and makes his way over to you. You turn, mug in hand as he walks up. He grimaces again at your face, but his shoulders slump as he notes your puffy eyelids. “How’d you sleep”

“Alright”, you mumble.

“I can stay here if-”

“Dad”, you groan as you roll your eyes, “What am I, five?”

“No- but I’m just saying, if you need me I’ll be here for you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine.” He seems unsure as he glances between you and the front door. “Go”, you urge him, “Be a knight in shining armor.” He laughs again as he bids you goodbye and leaves. The rumble of his motorcycle tapering off as he exits the neighborhood.

Truly, you are fine. You’re not great, but you’ve been worse. In fact, this is probably the most down time you’ve had in a while. If you were still talking to Bob you would probably text him and see what he was up to, but alas. There’s not much to do except waste away for the rest of the day. Which is exactly what you do. You turn the t.v. on and throw your feet up. They almost hit the large box Bradley left yesterday. You guess you could see what’s in there for you, but you’re already so comfortable and it's just so… far away. And soon enough, your eyes are drooping shut again.

-----------------------

The day passes by painlessly as you switch from folding laundry, to eating whatever is left in the fridge. Your headache slowly dissipates with every bite of food and drink of water, but as it gets closer to evening, the noises from outside get louder and louder. A leaf from a palm tree being ripped from its home and hitting the side of the house, ran pattering, and thunder booming in the distance.

Deciding you’ve had enough of scrolling aimlessly through your phone, you move back to the living room and turn on something you can watch without much thought. The cardboard box Bradley brought over still sits on the coffee table, and huffing out a breath you decide to take the lid off. There’s a bundle of old photos, a couple of dirtied up baseballs, and an old envelope you move to look at, but your phone rings before you can inspect it further. Your dad’s face appears on the screen and you swipe to answer.

“Hey dad, what’s up?”

“Hey kiddo, listen, there was a lot that needed to be boarded up and taken care of at the bar, I just barely got back to Penny’s. I know everything’s taken care of at the house, but the wind and rain are picking up. I don’t want to leave you alone, but it might be safer just to spend the night here. Are you gonna be ok?”

“Dad, I'll be fine. I’d feel better knowing you’re at Penny’s rather than driving your bike in the storm.” You can hear him sigh on the other end. Even with your permission you know he still feels guilty leaving you.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I swear. I’ll be fine.”

“Ok sweetheart. Promise you’ll call me if anything happens or you need me, ok?”

“I promise”, you can’t help but smile through your words at his protectiveness.

“Alright, well I love you, and hopefully things will slow down and I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Love you, too, dad. Bye.” He bids you goodnight, even if it isn’t 8 o’clock yet, it feels like much later with the storm clouds covering up any chance of dying sunlight.

Turning back to the box you pick up the envelope, there’s an unexpected weight to it and you hold your breath at the sight of Carole’s handwriting. There’s one word on the front and it’s simply labeled “Bug”. Your once steady hands shake as you trace the folded edge that has been sealed for almost two decades. You can’t open it fast enough, but at the same time you’re hesitant to see quite possibly what her last words to you could be. Slipping your finger under the seal, you try to minimize the damage as it rips open. As if it were an extension of the woman herself.

Inside sits a lined piece of journal paper, folded neatly into thirds. But your eyes linger on the item weighing it down as you huff out a breath in disbelief. Your fingers reach inside, and once completely taken out of its hiding place, a silver chain with a butterfly pendant hangs from your hand. 

 With the necklace still wrapped around your fingers, your eyes water as you reach for the note, unfolding it. The paper shakes as your heartbeat quickens. And her voice fills your head while you trace the all familiar cursive with a featherlight touch.

My Darling Bug,

Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice this found its way back into my possession? I don’t know why or when you did this, but I thought I told you it wasn’t mine anymore. I gave this to you for a reason, Bug. I wanted you to know that Bradley, your dad, and I will always be with you. I think you might need it now more than ever. It might be a little different, but I don’t want you to look at it and be sad I’m not with you. I want you to look at it and be happy that I still am, no matter what.

I know I made you promise me to be brave. And you have kept that promise, so if you think you haven’t, you’re wrong. But maybe I should have worded it differently, because you don’t need to be brave like anybody else. I want you to continue being brave like you. Because I know you are. Even so, I want you to remember how I got this necklace in the first place. It all happened because Goose was brave enough to ask. He taught me that being brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared anymore. It means that even though you are scared, you do it anyway. You don’t run from it, you face it head on. He always told me I wasn’t born with the fear part of my brain intact, but he was wrong. When we lost him, I knew for a fact that part of my brain was there. I was so scared, but I knew I had to keep going. If not for me, then for Bradley and your dad. Heaven knows your dad was scared out of his mind, but that’s what makes him one of the bravest people I know. He kept flying, and then soon enough, you came along and changed our lives completely. And I know I’m rambling, but I just need you to know how much you mean to me- to all of us.

So I don’t want you to live your life in fear or with regrets, wondering the same things, so please; continue to be the brave girl I know you are. It’s hard to take those first steps. But it is so worth the risk, because you deserve everything good this world has to offer.

And this may or may not make it easier, but I just ask that you take this back and wear it with pride. I will always be with you, bug. And I can’t stand another moment having this sitting in my jewelry box, collecting dust when you can wear it and put it to much better use. You deserve it. I love you very much, don’t forget that.

P.S. I know Bradley’s a big boy and he acts like he can take care of himself, but I know he’ll need you just as much as you need him. Same with your dad. Be there for each other.

-Love, Carole

You move the letter away from under your face as you feel the tears start to fall. You’re just quick enough as they hit your lap instead. The necklace is now safely encased in your grip as you take in a ragged breath. All this time- You can’t stomach the thought. This entire time, these past 16 years you’ve been separated from this last piece of Carole you never even knew existed. And the necklace you thought was lost to time now sits in your palm. You hold on to it. Tight.

You still don’t let go as you gingerly place the letter back in the envelope. Deciding you need to put these two things in a safer spot than your living room, you walk up to your room and go to the shoebox above your closet. Inside, you move the velvet box with your Academy ring to the side, making room for the letter. You almost place the necklace in with it, but you’re not going to disobey Carole by not putting it on the next chance you get.

With the silver chain still wrapped in your hand, you put the shoebox back, just about tripping over your flight suit in the process. In everything that happened yesterday after therapy you must have forgotten to put it in your laundry basket, or hang it up at least. As you pick the jumbled green fabric up, your ears prick up at the sound of something hitting the floor. The gleam of a copper coin catches your eye and you drop your uniform altogether, opting to pick it up instead.

Carole’s words swirl through your head as your heart rate picks up. You stare at the penny in one hand, and open your other to reveal the silver butterfly. The memory of Bob’s crooked smile fills your senses and your heart beats faster again. There’s a phantom ache of his hand cradling yours, gently placing that first penny into your palm on the tiled floor of the locker room. Even before you kissed there was this urge to want to get to know him from deep inside the dark recesses of your heart. From places you thought you blocked off and boarded up after your last boyfriend. You left no room for weakness, no room for anyone to have the upper hand, but yet, you feel safe around Bob. You still do, even after it tore you to shreds resisting that same urge to talk to him, to look at him. It scares you, how after only meeting him a few months ago, it feels like he knows the darkest parts of you, and still wants to learn more. To care for you in a way that you haven’t let someone in a long time. And you want to do the same for him.

That urge sends chills up your spine as thunder booms in the distance, the once small patter of rain picking up as it hails on your roof. Clenching the penny in your fist, you delicately hold the necklace in the other, and you swear the lightning reflects off the silver butterfly, almost winking at you. In the glint, you hear Carole’s voice from when she first gave it to you, and again through her writing. “Be brave”, her whisper echoes. And in that moment, your heart beats louder, anticipating what you know you’re going to do next before your brain has the time to catch up. Placing the necklace on your side table next to your bed, your feet sprint down the stairs the moment the chain leaves your fingers.

You can hardly differentiate the thud of your feet  from the thunder that is somehow getting closer by the second. Throwing on the nearest jacket and lacing up your shoes, you grab your keys and head to the garage. Your old faithful Toyota lays dormant as you jump in, and start the engine. Or at least try to. It sputters a couple times as you turn the key again, and again.

“No, no, no. Please”, you plead as you take a deep breath, holding out hope as you try one last time, “C’mon!” With a final twist, the engine roars to life. “Yes! Thank you!” The garage opens and closes with the click of a button as you peel out of the driveway, probably a little too fast, but who would be crazy enough to be on the streets in these conditions?

The rain doesn’t stop on your account, and both hands are white knuckling the steering wheel as you attempt to maintain the little control you have of your vehicle over mother nature. Your windshield wipers are moving as fast as they can, but it’s little to no good as you traverse the streets. You might have been better off with a canoe.

Nonetheless, you’re so close. Your destination is only a couple blocks away, practically in sight as your car lurches forward, sputtering, before ultimately slowing as you pull to the side of the road.

“No, no, no, are you kidding me?!”, you scream as you hit the steering wheel. She was doing so good! What happened? Placing the car in park, you remove the key and try again, but nothing. Squinting through the rain pattered window, you make out the street sign up ahead as it sways in the wind. This is ok. You can do this. Clenching your jaw and ensuring your phone is buried deep in one of your pockets along with your keys, you push against the gusts of wind and open the car door.

Your face is immediately pelted with ice-like bullets, raining down on you without mercy. Even with the hood of your jacket on, it does no good as you run across the sidewalk and turn down the street. A few house lights are on, but you can barely see as the rain washes over you in sheets. A gust of wind almost gets the better of you as you try your hardest to hold the hood to your head, creating any kind of cover you can. You are so close to throwing in the towel. So close to going back to your car and hiding away until the storm is over. But you didn’t come this far just to turn back. You will not give up.

Shining just a bit brighter than every other house on the street, your destination is in sight. Just one block and your feet make the decision for you to move faster. To run like you never have before, because this time you’re not running from anything. You’re running towards something. The rain hits you quicker, but it’s hard to feel it soak through your clothes as your feet pound against the pavement. 

Your shoes slip on the step to the front door, and your fist meets the entrance much sooner than you were expecting. It creates a loud knock, but there’s no sign of life behind the door. Gaining your footing back, you knock once more. Nothing. You knock twice again. Damn it. He must not be able to hear you through the storm’s havoc. You don’t care anymore, you weren’t thinking when you hopped in your car, and you aren’t trying to stay out in the rain all night. Your knuckles are knocking repeatedly on the door, and that’s when you hear Sylvia bark. She’s getting louder as she moves closer to the door and you continue your knocking, hoping he’ll hear you over her.

“Please, c’mon”, you mutter to yourself as your teeth chatter against the words. Your knuckles are going raw from the sheer cold and the fact that you’ve been hitting them against the door for what feels like 20 minutes. The door opens with a rush of warm air and you’re greeted with the halo wrapped face of someone who only feels like warmness and comfort. The light shines around his features as they contort at what stands in front of him.

“Mantis, what the hell?!”, he yells through the wind while reaching forward to pull you inside. “Oh my god, are you crazy?!”, he exclaims as he holds your arms in place. Your teeth are chattering as he tells you to stay put before coming back with a towel that he promptly throws over your shoulders. It doesn’t do much good as you’re soaked to the bone, but he’s frantically looking for more before you reach out for him.

“Bob-”

“What are you doing here?!”

“I- I’m being brave”, you explain through the pounding rain and thunder. He pauses just for a moment, then shakes his head as he stares at you in utter confusion.

“Did you.. run here? Mantis, are you ok?”

“Bob I’m fine-”

“Do you know where you are? How did you get here?”

“Bob!”, you finally raise your voice and he meets your gaze instead of your rain-drenched form. “I will explain everything, but please just let me say what I came here to say”, you breathlessly supply. He looks back to you, hesitant, but nodding to let you continue.

“Ok”, he whispers. You can barely feel your fingers, or your toes for that matter, but your shaky hand reaches into your pocket and grasps onto the single penny you came here with. The only thing that you made sure to bring.

“What did you mean by this?”, you ask as you hold it out in front of him. “When you gave this to Phoenix, what did you want me to make of this?” His eyelashes flutter in a series of blinks as he silently takes in a breath. Without meaning to, the coin shakes in your hand, and he rushes an answer before you have to stand there any longer.

“It means what it’s always meant. I know I messed everything up, but I still want you to feel like you can trust me, and talk to me. Because you can. I know how scary it can be, and it’s…rare to find someone you feel so comfortable to be around and talk to about the nitty gritty parts of your life. And I like to believe I was that for you for a little bit, ‘cause… you were that for me.” Your heart melts at his sentiment as you continue to drench the walkway of his home.

“Now can you please tell me why you drove here in the middle of a hurricane?” You swallow, hoping whatever fears you have fall to the back of your throat to make room for what you need to tell him. Because, here you are: Soaking wet, standing in Bob’s home, with nothing but a penny and the knowledge that even if you’re scared, you can do this anyway.

“Bob”, you sigh, “You have not messed anything up. In fact, you did something I was too afraid to do.” Taking another deep breath, you ignore the lines riddled in his forehead and continue.

“I have been scared for most of my life. I know sometimes I act like I’m invincible, but I’m not. But I am also sick of being scared. I am sick of pretending. Life is too damn short, and for once instead of just acting like I am, I am trying to be brave. I can’t let this be another ‘what if’. I won’t let you be that. You deserve to at least know how I feel.”

“Mantis, you don’t have to-”

“No, but I want to”, you nod with authority, solidifying to Bob that this is a risk you want to take. You take in another deep breath as it fills you with courage. “Bob, it’s hard to explain, but- you make me feel brave. But at the same time you also scare the shit out of me”, you can’t help but laugh as the crease in his forward melts a little bit. “You scare me because you care so deeply for the people around you, and you’re so generous, and kind, and I can’t help but want to be around you all the time. And- and I’m rambling aren’t I?”, you ask as he breathes out a miniscule laugh. And then you’re gifted with the slightest uptick of his mouth. Just enough for you to know that he’s still listening. But when is he not?

“Anyway. I just- it kills me that you think so lowly of yourself, and I need you to know that I care about you. A lot. And if it hasn’t been blatantly obvious by how I’ve kissed you”, he blushes and looks down at his feet as if he didn’t kiss you with just as much passion, “I like you beyond the point of being friends. And- I feel like you see me. Not just as an aviator, not just as a woman, but as a person. But that’s also scary in itself because you’ve seen my flaws, and each time you didn’t look away. You stayed. You stayed and made sure I didn’t stay down.”

“You didn’t need me for that”, he shakes his head. And you smile through your shaky breath. “You don’t stay down long.”

“Maybe not, but it’s easier to get up when someone lends you a hand.” He stills at your words and your mind tracks back to find the courage you came here with. It’s not hard when Bob’s standing right in front of you with Carole’s voice running through the back of your mind.

 “I’ve tried brushing these feelings off, and staying away from you, thinking I was doing what was best for the both of us. And… I don’t know about you, but it’s only been like two days without talking to you- and I miss being around you.” The tell you’re about to cry starts with your throat straining, and at this point you’re trying everything to talk through it. “I don’t want to mourn you while you’re still here-”, you choke out as you clench your jaw to stop your teeth from chattering any louder than they already are.

“Hey”, Bob whispers as he moves closer to you, “It’s ok-”

“I don’t want to lose you when I’ve never even had you”, you breathe a shaky breath as he places his hands on your shoulders, the warmth permeating through your jacket and towel.

“Whoa, where is all this coming from?” Your breathing is rapidly increasing, as he stares down into your eyes, concern painted through the way he looks at you. That and something else you’re too hyped up on adrenaline to identify at this moment. 

“It’s ok, just breathe for me. Can you do that?” You nod as you stare back at him, his hands reaching out to grasp your own, placing one on his chest. Just like he did in the locker room. God, it feels like it was ages ago.

“Jesus Christ, you’re freezing”, he mutters as he puts both of his hands atop your own. Your fingers thrum over the soft cotton of his shirt, and you’re almost certain his heart is beating just as fast as your own.

“Your heart’s beating really fast”, you comment as you watch your fingers underneath his.

“Are you sure that’s not your own?” You exhale a laugh, but continue to feel that familiar thump from his chest.

“No, that’s definitely you.”

“Yeah”, he manages a nervous smile, “That usually happens when I’m around you.” Your hand is slowly gaining feeling back under the protection of his own, and your eyes meet his. He whispers your name softly, and this time you don’t flinch. You don’t break away, you don’t blink. Your teeth are still chattering, the noise distracting him from whatever he was going to say.

“Let’s get you into some dry clothes, yeah?” Silently you nod as he gives you a brief smile. He’s seemingly already accustomed to the idea of you staying the night, something you didn’t think of before running out of your own house. Taking your hand in his own, he leads you to the bottom of his stairs before jogging up to what you presume to be his bedroom. You wait as you attempt to clench your jaw to stop chattering your teeth, but that’s when you spot a shiny black nose poking out from the corner of the living room. 

“Hey Syl”, you whisper while bending down. She retreats almost immediately at the sight of you, but reappears at the familiar voice. You realize you must look kind of scary with your jacket hood plastered to your face. In an attempt to get her to come closer, you peel your hood off of your head and tempt her again with your outreached hand. “It’s just me sweet girl”, you whisper as she moves forward to sniff your hand. Her tail starts a wag at the appearance of your face and you smile as she gets close enough for you to pet her head. 

You’re scratching her ears as Bob returns from upstairs, now carrying clothes for you to change into.

“Ok, I’ve got some sweat pants and a t-shirt”, he explains as he sorts through them, “But I do have a sweatshirt in case you’re still cold.” He shifts his attention back to you as you stand and accept the clothes with a quiet ‘thank you’. Without the hood obstructing his view of your entire face, his brow immediately furrows at the shadow just to the side of your eye. He doesn’t get a good look at it before you’re turning to change in the bathroom. He must be seeing things. A shadow from your hair, the dim lighting, it just can’t be what he thinks it is.

Peeling your wet clothes off your body was something you didn’t think about while sprinting full speed down Bob’s street. But here you are, in his downstairs bathroom, admiring the softness of both the shirt and sweatpants he’s offered you. You’re soaked right down to your underwear, and rather than sitting uncomfortably in a wet bra and underpants, you decide to go commando. If you get cold enough Bob did offer you a sweatshirt. Tossing your wet clothes over the shower curtain, you slowly walk out of the bathroom. It’s quiet. Other than the occasional rumble of thunder, or whip of wind and rain against the windows, the only thing you’re aware of is your own breathing. Until you get into the living room and find Bob picking at his thumbs on the couch. He doesn’t notice you, and for the first time tonight, you hesitate. You run your fingers over the bottom of Bob’s shirt, holding it out slightly in front of your body. Just admiring how quickly he offered his own clothes to you. Your hair is slightly damp, but not dripping like it was moments ago, thanks to the towel he gave you when you first came in.

He must hear you shift on your feet, because soon enough his eyes follow your form in his clothes, the pants tight in some places, loose in others, but the large t-shirt does its job. He stops on your face as you give him a nervous smile and make your way over to the other end of the couch.

“Oh my god, what happened?”, he all but rushes out as you sit. His eyes are frantic with worry as you trace his concerned gaze to your cheek.

“Oh that”, you try to laugh, “It was an accident.” He swallows while he stiffens in his seat. Bridging the gap you left between the two of you, he catches your gaze as you look down at his hand.

“Mantis”, his voice darkens, “I need you to be completely honest with me.” He’s staring so intently into your eyes you feel like you’re center stage in a show you weren’t given the lines to. A kind of intensity you’ve never seen directed toward you from the man. “Did somebody hurt you?” You’re stuck in your spot, and without hesitating you answer him.

“No”, you breathe as you softly shake your head, “Bob, I promise you it was a complete accident. I was playing catch and wasn’t paying attention.” He eyes it one more time, and you see his hand twitch in his lap before it slowly makes its way to cup your face, turning it to take a better look. You hold your breath at the movement, but once his thumb strokes lightly over your skin you melt into his warmth.

“Well whoever you were playing catch with knows how to throw a pretty wicked fastball”, he mutters as he takes in the bruising along with the indent of the stitching.

“Yeah”, you sigh, not able to say much as he holds the weight of your face and much more in his gentle hand. “Rooster was a pitcher on his high school team.”

“You were playing catch with Rooster?” You let out a breathy laugh, knowing how confusing this must be.

“It’s a long story”, you tell him. “I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“And he still threw it at you?”

“I try not to make sense of Rooster’s actions anymore.”

“Next time you wanna play catch, you come to me. Ok?” His eyes are still on the bruise, analyzing it from every angle.

“Are you saying you won’t throw the ball at my face?”

“No. I’ll make sure you’re ready first.” His smile fades the tiniest bit, but his hand has yet to move. It’s quiet again until a particularly loud burst of thunder has him dropping his hold on you.

“Um, let me get you some ice.”

“I’m fine. My face, feet, and hands are pretty much still numb.”

“May I?”, he asks, reaching for your hands. You’re facing him now, and he turns to mirror your own crossed legs as his hands clasp your own. Slowly, without looking back at you, he brings them closer to his face and before you have the good sense to realize what’s going on, his warm breath fans over your dead fingers. Something flips in your stomach as he starts rubbing his thumbs over the back of your palms after each slow and agonizing breath.

The contrast in temperature hurts your fingers down to the bone, but you can’t seem to take them away from Bob. He stops the breaths just for a second as he rubs your hands in contemplation.

“Mantis… Why are you here?” You’re almost certain your swallow is audible as you stare down at your joint hands. He doesn’t push you when you don’t immediately answer. He only continues to soothe your aching extremities. But when he starts breathing on them again and his glasses fog up slightly, that’s when you truly start to feel the discomfort seep from your fingers. And that’s when you know you have your answer for him. Because he will truly put your needs before his own. His clothes on your back, his sight for your warmth, his happiness for your own. But he doesn’t quite know the true extent of your own unhappiness without him in your every day.

Your answer sits on the tip of your tongue, but truly, your brain speaks before you can formulate the words you need him to hear.

“I went to therapy”, you blurt out as you stare at him. God, why can’t your mouth just say what it needs to? Why is this so hard? Bob looks at your face at your admission, blinking away his shock at the volume at which you spoke them.

“That’s- that’s great.” He goes back to rubbing your fingers, ruminating on your words, then stopping suddenly. “It wasn’t ‘cause of me, was it?”

“No!”, you’re quick to correct him. “Not at all.. I mean it wasn’t your fault, but I did talk about you a little bit”, you admit bashfully. He nods, seemingly drawing his own conclusions. “It wasn’t anything bad. Just-”. You’re hesitant to tell him about your dreams, about why your dad called him that day. Why you were so fidgety and couldn’t even look him in the eye. But then you look back at him, and you know everything will be ok. He won’t run, or look at you with pity. He might be concerned, sure, but he’ll still be there for you.

“After Nat’s party, I had a nightmare. I haven’t had one in years, and it kind of rattled me. And then I had another one. They usually happen after I feel like I’ve done something I shouldn’t have. Something that would- make my mother mad at me.” He stiffens at your words, brows drawing up once more. He knows. And you don’t want him to blame himself. “But yeah, I got back in touch with my therapist. Gonna make it a regular thing now… but after my session she asked me to list three people who make me feel wanted. And it was very clear to me you’re on that list. And I hope I make you feel important, too. I know I haven’t this past week- and I’m sorry-”

“Hey”, he tugs your hands toward him just enough to get your attention, “You had enough going on, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I do. I can’t help it.” He whispers your name and averts his gaze from your face like he can't even bear to look at you right now. You didn’t think this was news, last time you were here he told you essentially the same thing.

“What?”, you whisper back.

-----------------------

Bob did not imagine even in his wildest dreams you would run to him in the middle of a storm. But here you are, pouring your heart out to him, your hands in his, his old t-shirt draped over your shivering body, but there’s still that tiny part of his brain telling him it’s too good to be true. And in reality, it is. Because what is he supposed to do now? What did you hope to achieve by coming over here? Your feelings don’t change the fact that this is still wildly against rules in place.

It might have been easier for him to deal with it on his own not knowing exactly how you felt, but now? He can’t put you in a position for someone to take your dream away from you. Especially after how much you’ve had to sacrifice to get to where you are. And there’s still so much for you to do.

“What do you want me to do with these feelings?” He finally asks and you’re caught off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- a few days ago when you came to me you were so sure this wasn’t a good idea. And now?” He searches your face for an answer in your silence. “What changed?”

“I found a letter from Carole. It was meant for 12-year-old me, " you can’t help but release a watery laugh, “but she just reminded me that some things are worth the risk.” You pause for a moment, squeezing his hands for reassurance before continuing.

“Our jobs are dangerous, and even if they weren’t, life is so precious. And I don’t want to continue breathing if I’m only half-living. I already did that, and I refuse to do it again. And I’m not asking you to do anything with what I’ve told you, I just had to let you know. And that might be selfish, but I know running from what I’m feeling isn’t fair. To you or me.”

It’s quiet again, you’re not sure if Bob is looking at you anymore, but your eyes are drawn back to his hands. One of the single greatest comforts you can’t help but indulge yourself in. A flash of lighting pierces the corner of your eye and the boom of thunder follows shortly after. It almost bleeds into the rasp in his voice as he speaks.

“Is it selfish if we both want it?”. Your eyes snap to meet his and you’re hit with that intensity again. It’s slightly masked by insecurity, but you can see how much this means to him. You’re so sure he can hear you release a sharp breath.

“What do you want-” Your thought is cut off by a deep rumble of thunder, almost shaking the structure of the house. You flinch as if the roof were about to collapse on the two of you, but you’re not catching a break as the remaining kitchen lights click off.

“Damn it”, he mutters under his breath. Bathing you and Bob in total darkness, you instinctively squeeze his hands and he squeezes right back.

“It’s ok”, his voice echoes as he tries to see anything around the darkened room. Sylvia whines from beneath her hiding spot as he blindly searches the coffee table for his phone, petting her in the process to calm her nerves. With his phone located, he turns the flashlight on and you wince at the harsh white light. Sylvia continues to whine even as she scurries out from under the table and runs up the stairs. He runs a hand through his hair as he stands and you’re left in his absence. Goosebumps crawling up your arms and legs force you to shiver and Bob sees it out of the corner of his eye.

“Here- you can take my bed. It’ll be way too cold down here.”

“Bob, no. I’ll crash on the couch”, his mouth opens to protest but you stop him before he even starts, “Plus, I think your daughter might need you up there.” He moves his hands to his hips, deliberating his choices until he eyes you.

“I mean- we could always, ya know…”

“What?”

“We could share my bed. It’s not like we haven’t already slept in the same bed together- Not that I’m assuming you want to! But it’ll keep you extra warm if we’re both there, and that way we’re in the same room and-” With a soft smile you cut off his rambling.

“I think that’s a great idea.” That crooked smile graces his face for the first time in what feels like forever, and your nerves are put at ease. You want to be the reason he smiles like that for as long as you’re able.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He silently leads you up the stairs and offers to let you use the bathroom first while he tries to tidy up the mess you hopefully didn’t see through the lens of your phone’s flashlight.

There’s not much, just a couple of dirty shirts he didn’t have the time or energy to throw into his laundry basket. And then there’s the laundry basket of clothes he was going to fold today, but got distracted at Rich and Harry’s. Shoving the basket in the corner of the room, his eyes catch on the rain-pattered window. Palm trees sway in the wind, and thanks to a flash of lightning, he watches the street run like a river. He squints, trying to find where you parked your car, hoping the damage won’t be too bad.

The click of the door opening has him turning to you, brows still furrowed.

“Hey, where’d you park your car?”

“Oh, that. Funny story”, you laugh, “It stopped running about a block that way-”, you point up the street, “And I kinda ran the rest of the way.” His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as you stand there chuckling.

“Mantis”, he sighs, “Why did you think any of this was a good idea?”

“I wasn’t really thinking, I just knew I had to talk to you”, you bashfully admit. A flash of lightning reflects in his glasses, and you’re brought back to your conversation downstairs. Your unfinished conversation. The hairs on your arms raise before Sylvia whines from underneath Bob’s bed.

The two of you glance back and spot her nose peeking out from under the frame. You’re on your knees, petting her head as Bob stands at the window.

“It’s ok sweet girl”, you coo. With the two of you distracted, he takes a minute to finish getting ready for bed. God, he just can’t believe you’re actually here. Granted, he wishes it was under better circumstances, but still. Stepping back into his bedroom, he’s pleased to find you already underneath the covers, your back facing him. His heart speeds up at you already so comfortable in his bed, but he gathers himself quickly before turning to close the door to the room. The bedroom the two of you are currently sharing… with his dog lying on his side of the bed.

“Before you say anything”, you rush out as you sit up, “She got up here all by herself, and I don’t have the heart to tell her to get down. So you’re just gonna have to look into those big brown eyes and be the bad guy here.” He bites down a smile as he pretends to deliberate on what he should do. Not giving in and telling you that she normally sleeps on the bed with him.

“Plus, I don’t think she’ll be as scared if she’s up here with us”, you add. With us. Yes, that word just came out of your mouth. And it might not be a big deal, but you just used that word and Bob is having a hard time not pinching himself to make sure this is all real and not another dream. Clearing his throat, he manages to cough out a “yeah”. Or something akin to agreement.

He starts to settle onto his side of the bed, and you scooch as far away from the middle as you can. Sylvia moves down the bed in between the two of you and you finally lie back on your respective pillows. You can hear his glasses hit his bedside table as his hand falls to Sylvia. There’s an unspoken tension in the room, and you’re not sure if you can wait until morning to break through it. But neither of you say anything. You just lie there like a lifeless body whose heart is also about to burst through her chest.

Another flash of lightning slices through the curtain, followed almost immediately by a horribly loud boom. Sylvia whines again and your hand falls to her. You knew his hand was there, but it doesn’t stop the shock at the feeling of your fingers brushing his. As your hand swoops over Sylvia’s fur he almost moves back as you stop. But that single touch in the dark makes you want more. So with a clear mission, you bring your hand back over her fur and start to slowly trace his knuckles and fingers. His hand turns over, inviting you to do the same to his palm before he halts your motions and instead intertwines your fingers. He’s still so much warmer than you are, and your hand melts in his. It makes you feel safe.

You don’t say anything as his thumb rubs your hand. The two of you lay in the backdrop of rain and thunder, staring at the ceiling as if it had some kind of hidden message you have to decode. Bob must find what his side says because he clears his throat before speaking.

“What you asked earlier, about what I want- I want you to be happy. Above anything else.” Your heart turns over as you face him.

“I want that for you, too… But you should know you make me really happy”, you whisper into the night. His hand flexes as his pillow rustles to your right.

“You mean that?”, his voice is clearer as he turns his head, and although you’re having a hard time seeing through the dark, you can imagine the look of fear and insecurity in his eyes.

“Of course I do.”

“Cause you make me happy, too”, he rasps, his voice somehow even deeper. And you just can’t help the way you move closer to him. Reaching with your free hand, you hold onto his bicep and rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomes it with a relaxed sigh as you get comfortable. Sylvia doesn’t seem to mind being squished in between your legs, and you’re happy for the warmth these two provide you.

There’s still a lot to talk about. A lot to figure out as to what happens next, but right now? You can’t seem to care what happens tomorrow because you’re content to hold onto Bob tonight. And as you feel him kiss the top of your head, you get that deep butterfly feeling in your stomach. The good kind this time. No overwhelming urge of anxiety or doom washes over you and you know everything is going to be ok. It has to be.

-----------------------

Hey Siri, play Fearless by Taylor Swift

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

@itsmytimetoodream

@theamuz

@harrysgothicbitch

@mygyn

@luckyladycreator2

@marve2014

@wretchedmo

@callsignwidow

@finnydraws

@melsunshine

@jostan456

@okiegirl24

@beebeechaos

@eclecticfashionbookszipper

@hunbomb

@nerdgirljen

@knight-of-the-doctor

@smoothdogsgirl

@planetaryempire-blog

@dumblani

[lady-z-writes]

(Jealous Karl x reader. "You're mine" smut)

Swear I thought I posted this, but here you go:

(ETA: ...I'd posted it in 2021, apparently. 🫣)

He'd made the decision to bring you, despite his best efforts to avoid this type of thing.

As soon as Alcina found out about you, she'd been urging him to join her little charade where she pretends to be a good oversized hostess.

She just wanted to get a taste of you, he was sure; lock eyes with you and hope to seduce you, steal you away from him.

Who knew the fucking caterer was going to be yet another threat.

The way he's staring at you makes Heisenberg notice. Sipping his whiskey, he keeps an eye on things as you chat kindly, probably unknowingly.

The smile on your face, the way you look in that outfit tonight - it's too much. He barely let you leave the factory without a mark on you; just in case someone got close enough to see the bite marks on your inner thigh.

You knew you were his. But with some alcohol in you, he wasn't so sure you'd behave yourself. Clearly, you hadn't started this interaction. Of course Heisenberg had been staring since you got up from the table; always an eye on things. He'd rather silently watch you than play socialite at Alcina's ridiculously over-the-top gala.

You'd been good, he just didn't trust the rest of these fuckers.

And the longer he stares, the more heated he's getting.

You'd noticed Heisenberg's staring. It was hard not to. He'd been grinding his teeth when he wasn't taking a sip of that almost-empty whiskey glass.

Speaking of, you knew you were meant to get the bottle from the server.

The caterer is nice enough but if he doesn't watch it, Heisenberg is going to make him into a mechanical plaything.

As you say goodbye, the caterer takes your hand and kisses the back of it. Totally flabbergasted, you shake your head at him.

"You need to stop," you say.

"Stop? We were having such a lovely chat. Perhaps we could have a drink under moonlight."

You glance over your shoulder, but Heisenberg isn't there.

Fuck.

"No, thank you," quickly, you back away toward the serving plater with the whiskey he likes.

It's gone.

Eyes wide, you gaze around the room to see if it's on anyone's table. If you come back without that bottle...-

Suddenly a familiar smell of cigar smoke overwhelms your senses. Glancing to your left, you notice Heisenberg's gaze fixed on you from a few feet away; whiskey bottle in hand.

"Come with me," he demands, shoving the bottle into your arms as he passes.

Before long, you're in a loading bay area, wrapping your arms around yourself from how cold you are suddenly.

"Karl, I-"

"Take your clothes off."

"What?"

He exhales smoke in your face as he shoves you against a crate.

"Now," he hisses.

Shivering, you follow orders, hand him the bottle of whiskey, watch him take a hefty gulp as he stares at your nakedness. As he hands you the bottle back, his eyes linger on the bite marks on your thigh.

You sip the booze in hopes it'll warm you up. Heisenberg takes pity on you - or maybe it's an act of ownership - but he gives you his coat and you're greedy for the warmth.

Not wasting time, he hoists you up, shoves you completely back on the oversized crate. It's freezing and hard but you don't sit up. You set down the booze before you spill it. Heisenberg pulls himself up, crawls over your body with a deep growl that exhales smoke around the cigar in his mouth. When he's eye-to-eye with you, he pops it out of his mouth, ashes it near you, uses his gloved fingers to uncover your right nipple from beneath his jacket. And then the left.

His eyes scan hungrily as he takes another inhale. You can feel him hard against your body and to be honest you're not surprised. It feels good to be this wanted.

He nods down at you and you know what he wants so wordlessly you undo his pants and belt. When his cock springs out, you guide it toward your naked pussy and let him shove himself inside you.

Arching your back, you moan out for him, knowing he wants you to be loud and the pressure of his thick cock is tender without any prep. But he wants it like this. It's a punishment of sorts.

"See you made a friend tonight," he grunts as he puts his cigar out beside your shoulder.

When he's completely in, you feel like you can finally speak. "N-no, that's not it at all. Karl, I-"

There isn't a second of hesitation: he starts pounding into you at such a pace, you can't help but grip his shoulders and whimper.

"You're mine," he growls. "You got that?"

"Yes."

"Say it," he grunts, biting your neck.

"I'm yours."

"Again."

"Karl, I'm yours!"

"Mmm, that's right. You are. You're mine to bite and to fuck. You're mine to make a scene about."

He's putting so much pressure on you, you're consumed by him and it's such an overwhelming feeling you can't help but love it.

"This cunt is mine to fill," he chuckles. "Oh? You're close, aren't you?" a deep laugh. "Bad girls don't get to cum."

You whine and grip him tighter. "No, I'm good. I promise."

"Oh, are you now?" he teases. You nod. "You look good...my jacket falling off your body like some centerfold...tits with my bitemarks on them, little marks from my facial hair...heh, it's like you're my little plaything."

"I'm yours," you whisper out, nodding against his chest as you feel your orgasm nearing. "Please, Karl, please."

He hums as if thinking it over. "One condition, doll."

"Anything."

"You sit in my lap and ride my cock while you cum."

You nod quickly and shift positions, staring in awe at him. This new position gives you so much pleasure. Your mouth is on his shoulder then kissing at his neck, moaning and crying out his name as you ride out your orgasm.

"Good girl," he laughs. "Ah, that's it, kitten...getting me so close."

After you've come down, your heartbeat in your ears, you kiss his neck again, open your eyes, throw your head back a second to stare at the ceiling as he pounds up into you.

It's only when you look straight ahead of you that you notice the door is open.

"Karl," you whisper, tapping him on the arm, trying to pull back.

It's too late. He's got an iron grip on your hips as he's moaning and pumping into you.

All while the caterer stands there in shock next to his crates of pastries.

"Get a good enough show there, bucko?" Heisenberg pants a yell over his shoulder where you're still staring in shock.

No response, just the sound of footsteps retreating.

You smack him on the bicep.

"You knew he was there."

He laughs loudly. "Of course I did!"

"Heisenberg!" you hiss.

"No harm. I didn't even kill him. Besides, look at that entire crate of pastries he left...just for us to sneak back to the factory."

You groan, hiding your face in his chest out of pure embarrassment.

"What? You're a sight when you're cumming. Probably gave that guy plenty to think about..."

"Can we go now?"

"Depends. Learned your lesson about talking to strangers?"

You roll your eyes.

"Yes, sir."

[d34dlysinner]

Morax drabble, "guilt and pleasure"

"Do you feel guilty about being healed by me?", he asked, as he redid one of his bandages only for it to be soaked with blood the very next second. "You shouldn't be... I enjoy my job. I enjoy taking pain from others.", he said as he looked very delighted in taking away one of your bruises. "I feel happy knowing that I can take this away from you. You're human. You should have the freedom to live without unwanted pain.", he said in his sickly sweet voice. You couldn't see it properly, but the way his eyes curved and the soft, but happy tone in his voice definitely confirmed that he was happy.

"But... Morax-", you started as you saw him take away the wounds, the big ones and the small ones, from your skin.

"You shouldn't worry. I'm adapted to this.", he interrupted you. He stood up when he was finished taking away your wounds.

You knew that you can't take away his wounds. If you could, you'd probably debate whether you should or shouldn't. It's his way of having fun, do you really want to take away something that he likes solely because it looks like it hurts. You would be stuck in an endless loop of questions and reasoning to whether you will or won't take his wounds away.

You sighed as you couldn't complain or talk back to his reasoning. "At least let me redo your bandages.", you said as you took a normal roll or bandages.

"I should advise you on how to use these... But it'll mean a lot if you can help.", he said as he guided you into placing bandages on him. You were about to undo the ones on his face, but he caught your hands before they could even touch him. "Not here...", he said.

"You need to redo those too... Let me help.", you said, but he shook his head and pulled your hands away.

"Of all things, I don't want you to see my face. At least for now. I'm okay with you seeing all the rest of me.", he said in a soft tone. "I know you worry about my state, but I fear I would make you restless when you've seen my face. It's better to not see than to worry. Especially in your case... I want you to live in Hell freely and joyfully, and I'll keep the memories of you as scars on my body once you've left Hell.", he said as his thumbs drew circles on the top of your hands. An invisible smile yet again adorned his wrapped up face.

He really was enjoying himself, you wouldn't dare take away what he liked after what he just told you.

[devilfic]

Saw the previous Matt Murdock post and I can’t help but think of him as college professor dynamic???!

LIKE HOW WOULD HE BE?

❝criminal law professor!matt murdock❞

cw: law school professor matt being everyone's wet dream, brief mention of alcohol, brief suggestive content. words: 1.3k.

AHHHHHHH criminal law professor!matt who never set out to teach but got invited to a lecture held by an old lawyer friend of his and built up such good rapport with the students that when one of them came up to him after class and told him they'd sign up for any class he'd teach, the cogs started turning

only teaches one class a semester, probably one class a year

one of those professors that almost everybody wants to get in with but is prone to several dropouts after the first two weeks because of his teaching style

he's very casual most of the time but very much hands-on and will not let up on you for a second if he thinks it's a teaching moment

he's relentless. he is not an easy A but you will come out of his class better than you went in

his favorite part of the job is getting into ethical debates with the students

likes to do a lot of mock trials and very regularly stick his students with cases that test their moral judgment

it's not to make them feel bad or play at having the higher moral ground if they make a "wrong" decision, but more so to force them to consider what they're willing to compromise on to win a case

and whether winning cases is the best thing for them or for their client

he's the type of professor who will gladly stay an hour or two after class just chatting it up with students over cases he's done in the past or answering questions about practicing law professionally

he grades hard but he always offers ample feedback to make his students do better next time

has a saying that he'll never turn down a coffee from a student trying to butter him up

and immediately follows up with "it won't make me change your grade but it will help me remember your name"

this motherfucker definitely likes to sit on the edge of his desk while teaching, too

undoes his tie a bit when he gets passionate about a topic, rolls up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, has to stop himself from pacing the room without his walking stick when he feels particularly excited about a discussion

does not care about late work like at all

as long as you get it to him before the end of the semester, you'll be fine

you'll be panicking, emailing him about how you're so sorry but your laptop got stolen on your way home and that you'll have to rewrite your entire paper from scratch in the school lab tonight so it'll be a day late and you'll get a response back in 4 minutes that just says "No problem, stay safe - Sent from my iPhone"

and... your laptop is mysteriously returned a few days later. apparently whoever stole it had a serious change of heart. you also got a 98 on your paper

(he may not be swayed to change your grade with coffee but he is a bit of a softie when it comes to stuff like this)

he's also just the hottest professor on campus. do I even have to say it at this point

comes to class everyday in a nice button-up, very form-fitting trousers (none of his students have ever seen him in a pair of jeans nor will they), glasses perched on the tip of his nose, a leather messenger bag at his side that is mysteriously well-stocked with first aid supplies, and a loose red tie around his throat

do you see the vision

cancels class often because of daredevil business and treats these as days to work on papers

tries not to cut class short because of daredevil business

it actually makes him a bit sad when he has to, and so he makes it an open invitation that if students catch him out in the wild or walking around campus, they can bother him as much as they want

his TA is a little (a lot) exasperated with him but he makes up for it by buying them food. it has actually put a dent in his budget at this point but their appeasement makes it worth it

he has an office on campus but he very rarely uses it for office hours, you can pretty much find him anywhere BUT his office

he likes to meet in coffee shops or lecture halls or parks on campus because he feels like it's less daunting for students to just sit and talk out in the open

he's very popular on valentine's day

students and faculty alike will shower him with chocolates and mini bottles of wine and roses and proposals to go out for drinks sometime and he always accepts the gifts graciously

and then passes them onto his TA, karen, or foggy

although he'd be lying if he said he didn't keep some of the wine for himself

he has a strict rule against dating within the university, he'd just rather it not be awkward

now,,, a one night stand with a fellow professor maybe? no strings attached? he's not opposed to that

let's just say that tie and office are getting put to good use-

if you're a student and want a piece though, you're gonna have to wait until you've gotten your degree, sorry

he happens to like his one class a semester/year and he'd very much not like to deal with the legal repercussions of getting caught with a student. repercussions of which he is well-versed in

but alright. I mentioned that he sometimes has to cancel class because of daredevil business and so I MUST tackle the big question: does anyone suspect him

yes and no

it starts out simple. sometimes he shows up to lectures with cuts and bruises, some bandaged but fresh, and swears that it's nothing to worry about. you might catch him wearing the rare sweater on those days, even

when he gets questioned about it, he sort of spins some half-baked lie about boxing being his part-time hobby

and then people start noticing that he's never around when there's a daredevil sighting

now, he doesn't always cancel class for daredevil business. sometimes it's because he's got a client to take care of!

but he also loves to invite his students to sit in on the less serious cases so. what gives

one student starts a rumor and then it kind of becomes a joke in class that professor murdock is secretly daredevil

most of them don't take it seriously because how could their sweet, chill, blind professor murdock be a crime-fighting vigilante? it just wouldn't make sense!

and you know what this bitch does? he feeds into it

student: yeah, professor murdock is daredevil. that's a good one

matt: what do you mean?

student: oh, it's just a joke! we know you couldn't be daredevil

matt: but I am

student: hahaha that's funny

matt: no, I really am daredevil. haven't you noticed? same build, never in the same place at the same time, devilishly handsome

student: uh-huh, sure thing professor

matt: is it cause I'm blind? that's pretty insensitive, don't you think? you don't think blind people just read braille all day and get walked across the street, do you? is that what you think?

student: well I mean no but like... I mean.... uh....

matt: nahhh I'm just fucking with you. I am daredevil, though

student: hahaha for sure man, definitely

matt:

he does fly too close to the sun one day though when one of his students tries to debate him in class about it for shits and giggles and accidentally comes up with such a compelling argument for why he could definitely be daredevil that he sort of just nervously laughs and stops making jokes about it for the next four weeks

also keeps a flask in his desk drawer to pour into his mug after a rough night on patrol. but if anyone asks, no the fuck he didn't. mind your business. you have a C in his class

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

[luci-is-a-bitch-x3x]

Obey Me! Luke, Simeon, & Solomon react to: Mc and the hand holding curse.

Other parts can be found here: Older Brothers, Younger Brothers, Diavolo & Barbatos

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Welcome! to another part of this adventure! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Mc gets gets cursed to be stuck holding hands with a lower rank demon. Mc doesn't know how to undo the curse and has been stuck being dragged around by the lower rank demon. When the character spots Mc "holding hands" with a lower rank demon and "following" the demon around how do they react? How does the character react once they find out its a curse, can they help undo the curse? Find out how the characters react by reading more!

Luke's Reaction: (Platonic)

Luke is doing Luke things, you know being bullied and called a chihuahua, getting mad and then proceeding to act like a chihuahua, the usual for the young angel. Luke is standing in a group with Simeon and Solomon, the three are talking about some random subject when they all three watch Mc walk by while "holding" hands with a lower rank demon. Luke is extremely worried and concerned for Mc, its bad enough Mc gets along with the demon brothers, this is some random demon that probably has bad intentions! Luke immediately calls out to Mc- "Mc!! What're you doing holding hands with that- with that demon!??!?!?!" Luke's loosing his mind, completely baffled by the idea of Mc holding hands with a demon. The random demon takes off when it hears someone calling out to Mc, dragging poor Mc with. The lower rank demon runs off because its scared it'll get in trouble for being cursed to Mc. It is correct on that part. Luke panics when the two take off, what if something happens and he never sees Mc again! Luke takes off running after the two, despite his short height he's rather quick. Luke catches up to the two quickly and latches himself to Mc's arm, trying to use his body weight to stop the two from continuing to run away.

The random demon must be rather strong cause it just continues running, now dragging poor Mc and Luke behind it. This continues until someone comes to help the two, its probably Simeon or Solomon. Once they get the random demon to stop running, Mc has time to finally explain that they are cursed to be stuck holding hands with the lower rank demon. Luke blames the random demon, even though the curse happened during a class at R.A.D. Luke doesn't stop worrying about Mc until someone breaks the curse for Mc, Luke is not good with curses, then he checks up on them and gives them any sweets he currently has on him. The lower rank demon gets punished by Diavolo and Lucifer, but it also has to deal with Luke. Luke yells at the random demon for awhile, and if he sees it in the R.A.D hallway he may yell at it again for a few weeks after the incident. Luke uses this incident as an excuse to hate on demons, he tries to get Mc to stay away from demons since they obviously have bad intentions. He acts clingy to Mc for awhile after and is a bit more agggressive with the brothers. The incident definetly sticks with him, he thinks about it at random times, more than Mc does. He was just so worried for Mc! He doesn't want something like that to happen again!

Simeon's Reaction:

Simeon is doing Simeon things, you know being really bad with technology, and teasing Luke, the usual for Simeon. Simeon is standing with Luke and Solomon, the three are discussing some random subject until they all three watch Mc go walking past while "holding" hands with a lower rank demon. Is Simeon jealous? Low key yes, but I see him being more worried than jealous. Simeon calms Luke down, who had been freaking out because Mc was touching a demon, before calling out to Mc- "Mc! Is this a new friend of yours?" Simeon sounds rather friendly and calm, but still somehow the lower rank demon is scared, they take off running, dragging Mc with. This causes Simeon to be even more concerned than before, concerned for Mc's safety he follows after the two. Definetly not following them out of jealousy. Is Simeon the fastest character? No, but hes not snail slow either, he may even have some cool angel powers that he could use to become faster than usual. Angel zoomies. Simeon takes a little to catch up to the two, he's to polite, so crashing through the crowd of R.A.D students to get to Mc and the random demon is a bit hard for the angel.

When Simeon finally gets to the two he gently grabs onto Mc's arm. The lower rank demon continues to try and run, but with Simeon holding onto Mc its to much weight for the random demon to drag. Simeon immediately begins speaking to Mc, worriedly asking whats going on. When Mc explains its a curse that neither they nor the lower rank demon know how to undo, Simeon is relieved in some sense, but hes also still concerned. Simeon's smart but I feel like he would take them to Solomon anyways, curses just don't seem like his thing. Simeon doesn't have a problem with dragging the lower rank demon and Mc to Solomon, hes an angel man, an archangel if I'm not mistaken, so he has strength to drag thebtwo around. When Simeon finally brings the two to Solomon he gets a good laugh out of the situation but he obviously helps free Mc and the random demon from the curse. The random demon does get in trouble with Diavolo and Lucifer, but it also gets scolded by Simeon, and getting lectured by Simeon is worse than getting lectured by Lucifer.

Solomon's Reaction:

Solomon is doing Solomon things, you know being a really chaotic old sourcerer, and a really bad cook. Solomon is standing with Simeon and Luke when they all watch Mc go walking past while "holding" hands with a lower rank demon. Solomon chuckles at the sight, laughing to hide his jealousy and worry. I don't see Solomon being that jealous of a guy, but theres still some jealousy there. Solomon assures the two worried angels that he'll check it out before he calls out to Mc- "Mc! What a peculiar situation your in. Who's the lucky demon?" Solomon sounds light hearted and like he's joking, but its just to cover up his true feelings. The lower rank demon turns to see Solomon and proceeds to take off running out of fear, dragging poor Mc with. I mean if you were a lower rank demon cursed to Mc you would run out of fear when you see 'the witty sourcerer' who's sometimes shady and mean especially over humans & the human your stuck too. Solomon finds the lower rank demon running away to very intriguing and low key hilarous. He's definitely chuckling as he begins to chase after the random demon and Mc. This man is delulu, he thinks him and Barbatos are besties & that he can make ediable food, so he is jealous but I dont think he thinks that Mc is "running away" with the random demon. He definitely starts thinking something along the lines of the random demon forcing Mc to run with it or some sort of curse, he'll pretty much make any excuse to fit his narriative of the situation.

Solomon catches up to the two rather quickly, despite being an old man, he doesn't seem like that fastest character but he's not grandpa slow either. He also is a great sourcerer so I'm sure he knows a spell or two that helps make an individual run faster. When he gets to the two he takes Mc's arm to pull them to a stop, if the lower rank demon continues to try and run and drag Mc then Solomon will just use a spell to stun it in place. Solomon calmly asks Mc whats up, and once Mc confirms what he thought all along, that its a curse, he effortlessly removes the curse from Mc and the lower rank demon. Solomon makes sure Mc's okay before he puts his hand on the lower rank demons shoulder, he unstuns the random demon and walks them to Diavolo for punishment. Solomon lets Diavolo handle punishing the demon mostly, but trust what Solomon whispered to the random demon as he walked them to Diavolo, causes the demon to make sure to never even be in the same room with Mc again.

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! Sorry I planned to post this quicker but life has gotten busy. More contents coming soon so Stay Tuned! Stay Safe! & Stay Spooky!

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡

[mchlgayser]

─── WHY DID IT HAPPENED? ft hanma shuji ✸

synopsis: You should've thought twice about the worst possible outcome when you give up yourself to him. But you didn't and at last, you lose your grounding.

warning: languages, toxic relationships, break-ups, and cheating.

daily note: oh no, im struck by the lord of angst gasp no wonder im doing such heavy angst at two in the morning, crying myself, and liking the way i hurt myself 😄

He came home late, again.

It's been the third time this week and the tenth time this month. Lately, it's so hard to even take a glance at your husband as he always woke up early and came home late. Usually around three to four. Of course, you would always leave a text for him to wake you up once he's home so that you can eat the dinner you made together. But then again, it'll always end up in the bin.

This time you are persistent in not falling asleep and waiting for him and when he did come home, he sent a smile your way before treading upstairs.

'Shuji?' You watch as he enters your shared walk-in closet, slipping off both his shoe and his sock and dumping them on the basket.

'Shu.' You called out trying to gain his attention. He undo his tie and sighs, finally taking a look at you 'Yes, Y/n.' Oh, well that's strange, he never addressed you that way before? Always come up with a cheesy nickname like dolly or dollface. What happened?

'No, I just wanted to talk to you...' You said playing with the hem of your shirt, he unbutton his shirt and his glasses 'Can't it wait until tomorrow? I'm tired and hot.' You continue staring at him when he walks past you to the bathroom and locks the door.

You settle down on your mattress waiting for him to come out and once he did, he slip under the duvet and closes the light 'Come on, Shu. We need to talk. Why are you always coming home late, these days?' He ignore your short ranting and pretended like he's asleep.

You got up and turn on the light 'We. Need to talk.' He aggressively peel off the duvet off of him and sat up toward you 'What?! What is it that there's a need to talk about, huh? I said I'm tired!' You shake your head at him 'Tired of what? Me or your job?! Can I just talk for a little while with my husband when he's been late for almost a month?! I just need a small talk with you... I... Miss you...' Your gazes fall to the ground in shame.

You hear him sigh and footsteps approaching 'Sorry, It's just... I got so many things to do at work. You know how cold-blooded Kisaki is.' The mention of your long-last friend brings a smile to yourself 'Yeah. I'm sorry.' He pets your head 'No problem.' And then he heads for bed.

You blink in surprise.

That's it? No problem and that's it?

The arguments between you and Hanma occurred, still, after making ups and it's always about the same thing. He came home late and now, sometimes he didn't even reach home at all. You'll always spend the night crying, missing your husband but like he always said. He is busy. A month turned into three but a solution never came falling and help your helpless ass. You are alone. Miserable and alone.

The possible thoughts came running like a madman, what if he cheated on you? What if he already found another better one? What if this and what if that? You've become crazy with the thoughts clouding your mind. You overthink yourself to sleep if you ever had any. You lose counts of how many times you threw up and almost lose consciousness because you got panicky. You took medicines that you probably did not need. But even with all that, you are still alone with no one to help you stand.

You are sleeping - closing your eyes to help you doze off when the doorbell rang repeatedly. You try to get up but fall hopelessly to the ground and groan.

You get up once more and get to the door without uncertainty. Before you are a brunette, a younger woman than you dressing in a tight, cleavage-showing silk red dress, decorating herself with a big pearls necklace, earrings, and a Louis Vuitton branded bag. She is smiling, twinkling her doe paired of eyes at you 'Can I come in?' She asks you.

You are hesitant but nodded nonetheless. She sat down on the couch 'Oh I'm sorry, I'm just gonna stay here until Hanma is home.' You blink to yourself, surprised and puzzled. 'Pardon me, but who are you?'

'I'm his girlfriend, Ivy. I supposed you are his maid? What's your name?' Your hand subconsciously shaking and clenching but then could you blame her? You wore nothing expressive as she did, you rarely dolled up unless it was for a special occasion. And maybe it was your fault too for being too anti-social and never really following your husband anywhere for his work. Not surprised no one could know you are his wife. I mean, would anyone even suspect it? Hanma, a flirtatious, ambitious guy like him settling down for such mediocrity as you?

'It's Y/n.' You told her to keep waiting and that you'll call Hanma in instead because you are scared he'll be back late again today.

'Y/n? Why did you call? I'm in the meeting, can't talk.'

'Ivy's here. She's waiting for you.' You heard his rapid breathing before you ended the call. You went back to his little girlfriend 'He'll be back, shortly.' And then you tread upstairs locking down the bedroom door with your hand over your mouth. Your ugly sobs turn to muffle as you cry and sob to yourself. An aching sensation is burning through your whole body but partially your throat and heart. Your eyes felt itchy and uncomfortable, your nose clogged, and your voice barely a whisper.

You don't want to be here any longer so you get your phone - that is the only thing you ever bought with your own money and left, not forgetting to slip the expensive diamond ring off of your finger. You heard a honk from outside of the residence to see that a car was parked.

You see Ivy sitting still on the couch with a glass of wine and she smiles when she saw you were leaving 'See you again, Y/n.' You nod and rush inside the car.

But just in time, a familiar black Audi A4 comes into view, you avoid his frantic knocks on the door and just ordered the driver to move along. Hanma tries to grab onto the car but slips. 'Fuck!'

'Shu!' Upon hearing his nickname being called he swiftly turns around but instead of you, there's Ivy. The girl he commits adultery with. She struts towards him and lends him a small hug with a cute shrieking noise 'I missed you! London was good but not better without you... But thanks for the trip Shu-'He shove her away with eyes widening in anger 'What the fuck are you doing here?!' She jolted in surprise at the sudden outburst 'What you mean what am I doing here? Shuji, you've promised me we'll get married one day so is it wrong for me to come to my future husband's house? Or is there a a fucking secret that I needed to know? Are you lying to me or something?!' He was hesitant looking back in forth between her and the road.

'I... I'm sorry...' He went for a hug and kiss the side of her temple making her smile 'You are making me scared. I thought you were cheating on me with your maid or something...' She laugh as he broke the hug with a furrowed brow 'Maid...?' She nods pulling him inside the house 'Yeah, Y/n is her name right? But then again, why would you? I'm much better...!' He was clenching his fist at her words but do nothing.

Ivy left home after some time and Hanma left for your shared bedroom. He gazes at your stuff but all seem to be left untouched. He struts inside your closet room to see your wardrobe full and neatly tuck like always making him smile. Yes, you didn't leave, probably just out for groceries.

Then he see the wedding ring, the wedding ring you wore all the time, and never once did he see left your form. His head tilted in confusion, why is that there? Why didn't you wear it? Did you perhaps lose it? Oh, it's okay, he can just slip it back on. He picks the ring off the ground and kisses it with a smile 'When will my doll get home?' He murmurs to himself.

Hanma get ready for bed and sleep wishing he'll see you in the morning or maybe the familiar smell of your homemade pancake will wake him up like always.

But none of it happened. Hanma waited days, weeks, and months but you never came back. Why? Ivy would come once a week to check but as always she'll get stood up by the porch and left home, defeated. It's not like she's not calling but the said man never answered none of her calls. Every day he'll play her calls to hear her voice 'Hi, this is Y/n. Talk to me once you heard the.... Beep...'

He'll talk to her hoping one day he can get to hear it once more maybe that time clearer, and nearer.

[leeknow-thoughts]

WINTER WISHES!

warnings : smut, boypussy!changbin, smut, reader has a dick!?!, p in v, mommy!reader, feminization, oral changbin!rec, i think that's all lol

You watched the snow fall outside. "Well this is best isn't it? Better that we're together and not apart during the blizzard," Changbin tries to cheer you up.

You had wanted to go ice skating with him, like you do every year, instead you are stuck together in your apartment for the next indefinite amount of time until this flash blizzard passes.

Changbin flopped down on the couch, "lets watch a movie," Changbin suggested.

Just as soon as you had both decided on a movie, the power went out. You huff and pout. "It's okay baby!" Changbin tries to cheer you up, "it'll probably come back on in a minute or two."

It had been more than a minute or two, it had been more like an hour without power. "I wish something interesting would just happen!" you huff.

"I'm sure it will honey," Changbin smiles.

The lights flicked back on, you breathe a sigh of relief. "Ok I'm gonna go to the bathroom, then I'll start up dinner," Changbin announces.

He gets up from his spot on the couch, disappearing into the bathroom.

"Y/N GET IN HERE NOW!" he screeches.

You immediately get up and run to the bathroom. "MY DICK! MY DICK IS GONE!" Changbin yells.

Standing in front of you is Changbin, his pants are pulled down, but instead of his beautiful cock you are met with the sight of a bush. "WHAT THE FUCK!" He yells again.

"You have a pussy now?" you can't help the grin that comes on your face. "WAIT!" you halt.

You undo the drawstring of your sweatpants. Peeking down you are met with a dick straining against your tight underwear. "I HAVE A PENIS!" you yell.

"WHAT?" Changbin immediately also looks down your pants.

You notice the way his hand cups his new found cunt. "You good Binnie?" you inquire.

"Mhm," he nods, cupping his cunt even tighter, "just the uh sight of you with a cock is..."

"You feel funny down there?" you ask.

"Mhm," he hums.

"You want me to teach you how to feel good hmm?" you ask.

He nods sheepishly, "can you.. fuck me?"

"Of course I can," you grin.

The two of you dashed into the bedroom, wasting no time pulling down your pants and laying Changbin down on the white sheets.

He kept his legs pressed together. You slowly spread them apart with your hand. You finally saw his beautiful cunt. Adorned with dark curls, all tucked in, with his beautiful clit poking through his folds.

Your mouth was watering at the sight. You settled between his legs, mouth breathing over his cunt. "First, you have to play with your clit," you instruct, "I'll do it for you with my tongue baby."

You kiss his clit, he writhes on the bed. You slowly suck his bud in your mouth, "Oh, oh God y/n-" he yells.

"Shhh need you to be quiet Binnie, need you to let mommy eat your pussy," you say before continuing your movements.

You begin making circular movements with your tongue on his clit, deciding to switch between drawing circles and giving it kitten licks.

Oh and Changbin was a mess. His beautiful eyes were glazed over, his lips made an 'O' shape as whines and whimpers came out.

"Close-" you heard him whimper.

You took his clit in your mouth again, sucking it harshly. And then you felt it. His cum leaking out of his pretty pussy. He was trying to move away from your touch, but you kept his cunt on your face by holding his legs down. Muffled cries of 'mommy' and 'ngh i can't take it anymore' left his pretty lips.'

You slurped up all of his juices onto your tongue before finally parting with his tasty pussy.

There was no question of how hard you were now. You sat up, when you looked down at your cock it was standing up and slapping against your lower stomach. Leaking pre from the tip.

You decided to stroke it a few times, it felt so good, no wonder Changbin was always asking you to give him handjobs, this felt fucking fantastic.

You decided to focus on the sight in front of you, Changbin with his legs spread and a soaked pussy waiting and begging to be fucked. You settled your hips between his legs, "this might hurt at first bun, you sure you can handle it?" you ask him.

He nods fervently, "yes I don't care just fuck me," he begs through parted lips.

You line up the tip with his entrance and slowly slide in just the tip. You throw your head back and so does he. You give him a moment to adjust before sliding in a little more. "Mommy?" you hear his fucked-out voice call.

"Yes my love?" you ask.

He pauses and his cheeks heat up, "can you maybe call me good girl or just treat me like a girl?"

Your heart was melting, "of course princess," you coo before finally pushing in the rest of the way.

You stay that way for a moment, "can I move now honey?" you ask tenderly.

He nods, you begin slowly moving in and out, it felt too good. "Mama-ngh faster please-" he begs.

"You want me to move faster, bunny?" you smirk, still staying at that slow pace.

He nods desperately.

"Only because you were a good girl and let mommy eat your pussy," you give in.

You start moving your hips faster into his cunt. You had pegged him multiple times in the past, you knew exactly how to move your hips. And by god you were pussy drunk.

His walls were sucking you in and when you looked down and saw his beautiful cunt swallowing your dick whole, you nearly came on the spot.

"Let me breed this pussy baby," you almost beg.

"Mommy fuck please I need it I need your cum in my pussy," Changbin begs.

That was all you needed to cum inside his lovely cunt. Breathing hardly whilst thrusting through your own orgasm. Through the overstimulation you kept fucking his pussy until he came around your cock.

"I'll have to make wishes more often," you chuckle before pulling out.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 1 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4])

so babe, hear me out. we could adopt him. just spitballing here (agatha, probably)

bwahhaha fantasy!billy and his death stare, meanwhile real billy is such a polite baby

if you look closely you can tell Joe Locke is fighting for his life holding down laughter in a lot of his scenes with Katrhyn. he has nerves of steel, couldn't be me

(also, billy telling her she has neither the respect of her peers NOR a fulfilling home life? harsh, but fair.) (at least her wife is trying to fix the home life part)

honey, don't go around kicking grumpy little twinks now! perfectly in character. despite her chaotic exterior, rio is a very lawful person. she is literally the laws of nature!

the Ballad plays faintly in the background when Billy mentions the Road

I love when good actors have to pretend to be bad actors. and I also find it interesting that Agatha cast herself as a good guy. does it make her feel better about herself? is she telling herself that all the atrocities were justified, that it was only survival instinct? (like rio said, she's only lying to herself)

I had to look up the painting, it's Macbeth meeting the three witches (thank you Reddit!) So Macbeth (Agatha) and Banquo (Billy) meeting Lilia, Jen and Alice?

how did I miss Billy sitting on the chair Rio was just on?! amazing lens choices here too

Wanda's death makes her cry again. I honestly, honestly believe she feels awful about what she did to her. but guilt will never be enough to redeem her - especially because she tends to run away from it.

Wanda's magic was so strong that it took at least four things to undo the spell: Wanda dying, Rio's intervention, Billy's counterspell, and Agatha's willpower. It was a group effort, Agatha could have never done it alone. And despite her scorched earth tactics, there are still two people in her life, rio and billy, willing to help out in her hour of need

it's naughty tiiiime

I still really love the curls

can I say iconique?

it's like someone's about to die at the end of this

bwahahahahaah and oh my GAWD all the case files and boxes, where did she GET that stuff, did she rob a precint, did she make them with the power of arts and crafts

you know what I think? being naked here is a power move. she is being very over the top because she's really uncomfortable, she just woke up and she's in those moments when you stop dreaming and have to relearn what's real and what isn't. she is someone used to calculate and scheme and micromanage every aspect of her life and she is not in control right now. what does Agatha do to reclaim control? she puts on a show. to her, being under the spell was way more like being naked, her insecurities and emotions and past were out in the open for everyone to see. being physically naked could never be nearly as distressing, and this is a nakedness she chose, because it tells people nothing about herself, nothing of what she wants to keep secret and protected. she's got the upper hand, not the other way round

you are all cowards and sheep for not saying Wanda's name, says the lady who would rather hide under a dozen magic layers than face her problems

that is so nice that they brought her groceries actually??? and lol those are the flowers in Agatha's crime scene pictures

that little girl is having a great time

FUCK CLOTHES BUT FUCK THESE CLOTHES SPECIFICALLY!!!!

(wait am I allowed to post butt cheeks? what are the rules right now?)

she turns quiet and emo as soon as she's alone

why doesn't she just - kiss the wiwwle bunny. bury her nose in that big fluffly head. even villains need a cuddle sometimes.

sure, bring señor scratchy. so menacing. that'll show them.

poor boy. trapped in a closet with ralph's bluray collection

aaand I really want to get to the next scene so I'll start on it right away, hopefully it'll be ready later tonight

go to part 4

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 36

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 18 minutes

Chapter warnings: smut, female masturbation, protected sex, dirty talk

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Jungkook sat across from Carly, the tension between them palpable. He was surprised she allowed him to step inside her apartment again after how things ended the last time. He was convinced he wouldn't need to be there, because Y/n didn't believe in it, and something deep inside him didn't want to believe it was actually working -after he naively ate it up for years.

—Carly, I need your help.

—Is this about the curse? —she eyed him up over her cup, barely dedicating an attentive glance at him.

—Please —Jungkook leaned forward, his voice low but urgent—. You have to undo this. It'll ruin everything.

She left her cup back on the coffee table, crossing one leg over the other while she kept her serious look.

—I told you when we parted ways, I told you the other day, and I'll say it again: Jungkook, you brought this on yourself. Either way, you seemed quite happy when I first told you. You even thanked me.

He clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

—Fuck, Carly —he sighed—. I know what I did back then, I know what I said, and I'd punch myself in the face if I had me in front right now. That doesn't mean I don't think differently.

Carly's expression softened slightly, though she tried to hide it. Her tongue moved through her lips, making them shiny down the golden light of the lamp over their heads and her eyes narrowed.

—Will you be willing to do anything to take it back?

—Yes, anything.

—Then get naked on my bed and make me have a good time —she looked carelessly while saying those words—. A throwback.

His face twisted in disgust almost at the same time that idea left her lips. Four months back, he probably would've dragged Carly to her bed mid-sentence. Actually, four months back he wouldn't have been there begging her to take back the curse.

—What crack are you on? No.

—Why not? Y/n wouldn't know. I for sure wouldn't tell her.

—I don't care. I'd know.

Her eyes opened slightly, going back to their natural shape, as she was lightened with the key words to get her to believe him.

—Look, you're beautiful —the last thing Jungkook needed was her to feel offended by his rejection—, but Y/n is more beautiful. And before you curse me again —he warned her, when she was about to speak—, what I mean is that she's the only one in my eyes. I can't even think of being with someone else, short-term, long-term, I don't care. I want her to be the only one in my life, and I want her to stay in my life —he specified—. Shit, I think I love her.

—You think so? —her hands dropped to her lap— That "think" doesn't go in that sentence, you love her —she clarified—. And calm down, big boy, I don't want anything to do with you, it was a test.

Jungkook was hopeful when her eyes looked at him with a kindness he recognized from the days they saw each other, but the sigh that came out right after gave him the worst of the feelings.

—I'd love to help you, seriously. But I can't.

—What do you mean you can't? Fix it —Jungkook insisted, desperation creeping into his tone—. I'm begging you. I need this to be done before things go bad. I can't lose her because of this.

Carly blinked, the walls she'd built around her emotions cracking just a little.

—There's more to it, right?

There was, but she didn't need to know. And he wasn't sure saying out loud what he was hiding was going to make things better.

—Jungkook, I'm sorry. I was hurt when I did it. I wanted you to feel what I felt.

Jungkook exhaled, running a hand through his hair, hiding half of his face behind his tattooed hand before looking at her again.

—You know, I've had this curse present in my life since we parted ways. I was so happy about it, the only thing that scared me was it disappearing —he admitted, with a bitter smile—. And now I'm so fucking terrified of not getting rid of it.

Carly hesitated, guilt flashing in her eyes. She placed her cup down, folding her hands on the table.

—I don't think your spell is reversible.

Jungkook's heart dropped.

—What do you mean, you don't think?

—If you remember the words I used... —she trailed off, looking genuinely remorseful— I said you'd be repaid with everything you did to others. Jungkook, it wasn't a normal love curse. What I threw on you was a karma spell. I wanted to make sure you went through hell before being able to be loved back by someone.

Jungkook stared at her, his chest tightening.

—So I'm stuck with this forever?

—No —Carly shook her head—. The curse will go away when you confront all the karma you have pending. Only then, the curse will disappear.

He leaned back in his seat, defeated. For a moment, the weight of everything crashed down on him. He was sure karma was out to get him, but he wasn't sure the levels of the pain he'd have to go through to overcome it.

The rest of the day didn't go any better.

Jungkook stormed into his gym, thankful it remained closed for that day and Jimin wasn't there to ask him what was wrong, his footsteps heavy with frustration. He slammed the door to his office, breathing heavily, his hands shaking with pent-up rage.

Without thinking, he started kicking everything in his path -chairs, a stack of papers, even a punching bag that was hanging just a little too close to the edge of the room. His chest heaved as his anger spilled out in the most physical way he knew how. It wasn't enough, though. None of it was enough to shake the hopelessness.

Suddenly, one particularly hard kick sent a file cabinet wobbling, and an old, thick file tumbled to the ground, scattering its contents across the floor. Jungkook paused, staring at the mess. The file folder had the date "November 2021" written in bold, faded letters. Curiosity tugged at him, pushing aside his frustration for just a moment.

He knelt down, gathering the papers into a pile, when something caught his eye -a photograph. His brow furrowed as he pulled the picture out from the pages. The image showed a familiar face. A face he had seen before, but not here. His heart stopped for a beat, and he was sure the office started turning in circles around him.

It was Y/n's brother.

His breath hitched as his eyes scanned the attached form -an application for the gym, with dates, contact details, and fight records. There, written in black and white, was everything. Y/n's brother had been a member. He was a fighter in that very gym, although he didn't manage to see him.

Jungkook's hands began to tremble as he flipped through more pages, trying to piece together the puzzle that was unfolding in front of him. Then, it hit him like a punch to the gut. The date of Y/n's brother's last fight -his final fight- was there. The same night he had been killed.

November 2021... He remembered that month he had one bad injury that kept him away from the gym. He was barely around there, he didn't even train people because he had someone else do it for him that worked there before the gym turned to be his. The only times he went to the gym were because Elijah showed up, and he knew Jimin hated to be alone with him.

The line of the 21...

Mercy Stroke...

The day his last fight happened, he remembered he was so out of himself that he didn't even pay attention to who was competing. Elijah wanted him there, because he was a good fighter, and Jungkook barely looked into it before he told Jimin to let him know.

When he learned the news of his accident, he got so scared that he promised he wouldn't send any other fighter if he could avoid it. And he missed every update related to it because his family was too involved in the case. He was even hopeful he managed to survive, and he wasn't part of the cursed line of the 21. Yet he was wrong.

Now everything made sense for him.

His stomach churned with nausea as realization dawned on him. Jungkook had been the one who sent him to that fight.

—Shit... —he whispered, his voice hoarse as guilt washed over him in waves.

Jungkook's entire body felt heavy, as if the weight of this discovery might crush him. Y/n didn't know. She had no idea about his role in it. How could he tell her? After everything they'd been through, after she finally started to open up to him, how could he admit that he had unknowingly led her brother to his death?

He dropped the papers, running his hands through his hair in desperation. He couldn't tell her. Not now. Not after she'd confessed she liked him. Not after they had gotten this close. He couldn't destroy everything -couldn't be the one to break her heart again.

The familiar clatter of keyboards and phones buzzing filled the newsroom, but Y/n's focus was elsewhere.

She was smiling like a fool just thinking about the way Jungkook looked so peaceful in her bed, sleeping while she was getting ready for work. It was almost as if he hadn't pumped her into her so hard that she could feel and hear the way her guts were rearranging the night before. Although what had her kicking her feet under her desk and giggling was the way he showered her body with kisses, whispering into her ear sweet nothings until she fell asleep in his arms.

Who would've told her that man was good at annoying her, but even better at making her nervous with just a word.

She leaned over her desk, mindlessly scrolling through old case notes about the current article she was working on, trying to focus back on her work and kick Jungkook away even if it was for a minute.

Just as she was about to give up for the day, her phone buzzed with a new message. Her eyes flicked to the screen, and she saw the name that instantly caught her attention: Alan.

It had been long since she last heard of him. Actually, it had been long since she found a new hint to follow in the investigation. Not even Jungkook managed to find anything to hold onto, despite how hard he tried. It had stalled, and it felt like they were constantly running into dead ends.

"I have info. Prize: coffee and a donut"

Y/n wanted to be excited for that message, but the truth was that Alan took way too long to give her something to catch on. And last time he did, it wasn't something that actually worked for her.

Although she was planning on having breakfast with Jackie, she had to leave it for another day, as she hurriedly made her way to the door to get to the cafeteria where they always met whenever he had good information.

—Coffee first —Alan rushed her, when Y/n was about to speak before sitting in front of him.

Her eyes rolled at his petition, but she gave in. Her stomach closed just at the idea of getting back to a place that didn't have anything for her, so she just crossed her arms over her chest while she watched her source gulping down the milked coffee and giving huge bites to his donuts.

—Do you only eat when I pay for it or what? —she asked, eyebrows furrowing.

—Funny.

—I know —she ironically smiled—. Can you say what that text was about? I'm on my break, and as much as watching you eat is a show, I have to get back to work, and I'd like not to go back with the uncertainty.

—My source... —he swallowed after chewing only two times— they gave me a location that could have something.

—Last time you said the same, and I ended up in front of a Walmart.

—No —he moved his tongue over his teeth—. I made sure it was a real location. The owner is one big asshole, but they assured me he has high knowledge on what you need to know.

When Y/n looked down at the piece of paper he was handing her, she frowned at the familiarity of the place. She was sure she had seen that address somewhere.

Corner of 14th and Ashland, near the old warehouse district.

—Okay, so —she smiled at him, getting up from the table—. Thank you.

—Wait, where are you going? Aren't you paying for this?

But Y/n smirked to herself, not looking back as she made her way out of the cafeteria to go back to her office.

As she sat back at her desk, Y/n knew the next step was clear: she had to go to that gym. Whatever she uncovered there could finally give her the answers she'd been chasing for so long, and whoever that new person was, she was sure Jungkook would manage to get information out of him in case she wasn't able to.

Although she didn't expect to need Jungkook to get information out of himself.

As soon as she finished the shift, she made her way to that address, double checking the paper, the number and the place to confirm she was in the right place. Of course it was familiar, Alan already gave her that same address after she managed to attend the first boxing party.

Either Alan gave her the wrong location, or his source thought Jungkook would have new information since he's almost every weekend in those boxing parties.

The rhythmic thud of Jungkook's fists hitting the heavy bag echoed through the space, sharp and deliberate. Each punch landed with a deep, muffled whump, the sound of knuckles striking padded leather reverberating off the concrete walls. The chain above the bag rattled lightly with every impact, a metallic clink following each hit as the bag swung back and forth. Between the punches, there was only the soft squeak of his sneakers shifting on the floor, followed by the steady inhale and exhale of his breath, punctuating the otherwise quiet room. The silence seemed to amplify every movement, making each blow feel heavier, more powerful. And despite the silence of his gym, the noise in his head was so loud that he didn't hear Y/n coming in.

Despite knowing him for four months, and seeing him fight once, she had never seen him so focused, so careful on each hit he landed. He seemed like a whole different person.

—Wow, what has that bag done to you? —she interrupted him.

Hearing her voice was like a sudden light being shed among his darkness, dragging him back to reality.

—It has earned a few punches.

—Bad day?

—You have no idea.

Because if she had any idea, she probably would leave him and move out, as far as possible so he wouldn't find her ever again.

—Whose balls do I need to kick? —she walked towards him.

—If you're planning on doing something with someone's balls...

The sentence got stuck in his throat, with a bit of air, when Y/n laid a punch in his stomach, forcing him to bend over a little. He got up shortly after, although his eyes escaped hers as soon.

—Is this because of your mom? —she tried to know, his eyes flying fast on hers.

—Tss, she could only wish I gave a fuck about her. It's... —how was he going to be able to tell her the truth when she looked at him with stars in her eyes?— a fight was canceled last minute. That's it. What are you doing here?

—Oh, hmm —she lifted the piece of paper—. Alan called me this morning, telling me his source had a big fish with a huge mouth, and supposedly he had good information. So, unless it's Jimin, I think I'm back at square one.

—He sent you here?

—Hmm —she nodded, her hum sounding the most disappointed he had ever heard from her—. It's okay, though. I guess we aren't that far.

"We". Jungkook's guts squirmed inside of him when she referred to them as a team.

—So I'm a big fish with a huge mouth? —he asked, trying to distract himself from his own thoughts.

The louder his voice was, the more quiet his mind kept.

—I know you have something big, but that's all I can recall.

—So, am I big? —he walked towards her, unhooking the velcro around his right wrist with his teeth.

—Huge.

—Ouhh —he was satisfied with her answer, walking dangerously towards her.

—Your ego —she stopped him, before his hopes could get any higher.

—My ego, huh? —he threw away his boxing gloves.

—Yup.

—Let me show you how big my ego is, then.

A little scream and a giggle unconsciously left her lips when he first lifted her body, motioning her to wrap her legs around his hips. Her lips tasted bitter, probably because of the coffee she usually drank around that time -and which she probably got on her way to the gym-, yet she also tasted so sweet that the urge to have her installer in his system.

—Thank god you're wearing a dress —he groaned against her lips.

"Thank god" she seconded in her head.

The second kiss was adamant, hungry, both of them knowing exactly what they needed and how they needed it.

Jungkook walked blindly to the small ring that was at the end of the gym -and which was barely used-, to let her sit at the edge. Their hips were still at the same level, allowing them to rub their pelvis together, both of them levitating a bit by the feeling.

—Babe, you drive me so fucking insane.

—I can feel it —she mumbled against his neck.

Her lips moved lower on his jaw, trapping the soft skin in between her teeth to suck in tight, making Jungkook groan when she moved her tongue around the squeezed spot.

He used to hate those marks, he always avoided waking up with a hickey anywhere in his body, but with her he loved them. She could mark him however she wanted, he was going to show off the sign of where he belonged with pride.

She moved her tongue over the reddish spot, moving up to his earlobe to have him squirm and flinching his body.

—Didn't you learn your lesson last night? You don't know what you cause when you do that.

—Honey, I know —she purred against his piercings before finally facing him again—. And that's exactly why I'm doing it.

His tongue dived inside her mouth, just to meet up with hers. Her response was always so immediate, so quick, like she always waited for him, like she always wanted to complement the other half. And that alone made his knees feel like rubber.

—I'd love to sink my mouth in you and taste you, but fuck... Once I go down your pussy, I might need, at least, one hour to fully satisfy myself.

And Y/n knew he meant it. The other night was proof enough for her.

—I'd love to have your tongue on me —she whispered against his lips—, but we both know I need your cock more now.

—Let me get a condom.

Y/n giggled when she saw him run to his office, disappearing behind the door. Although the cuteness was soon replaced by the way her body was burning for Jungkook, her core throbbing just with the glimpses of what was going to happen between them.

It took her a quick movement and her panties were around her wrist, her fingers moved down to her clit before she could be aware of them, with her head falling back over the ropes on her back while her eyes closed.

And Jungkook almost fell to his knees when he came back with that vision. He was convinced Y/n wasn't real, she had to be a product of his imagination.

—Are you going to stare for too long? —she asked, slowly opening her eyes, without stopping his movements, to confirm she was indeed real— Just to change the speed.

—If you move those fingers again, I promise I'll tie you up tonight.

More than a threat, that sounded like the juiciest promise he could think of.

He walked towards her, at the same time he did the knot that kept his sweatpants from falling, before he was back in between her legs. Y/n moved her fingers away from her core, moving them up to Jungkook's lips, which he immediately opened to taste her in her digits. At first, his eyes remained closed, but when he moved up from the middle of her fingers to the tips, he locked eyes with her, at the same time he wrapped his length around the latex.

His tip slicked through her folds, helping him on his plan of teasing her as he tapped over her swollen clit, or just rubbed himself against it, earning more than one warning.

In a matter of minutes, her sweater was rolled up over her chest, just so Jungkook could suck on her nipples as he pounded into her against the ring.

The gasps from exhaustion from twenty minutes back were turned into pleasure ones every time he sank in her, the dry sound of punches turned into the humid sounds of their bodies colliding against one another with each thrust.

Jungkook thrust so hard at some point that she was convinced she was going to fly over the surface, although his digits dented on her flesh to make sure it didn't happen.

She wasn't going away from him, not even a millimeter.

Her moans were more constant, her fingers were holding onto his locks while digging in his scalp, her legs frantically swang with his powerful movements.

—Kook —she warned him, his name leaving as a moan landed directly in his ear as she had her cheek against his.

—I know —he kissed her chin—. I got you, babe.

Six thrusts more and she melted in his arms, with her whine echoing in the emptiness of those four walls, and Jungkook joining her with a smudged groan as he left an open-mouthed kiss on her shoulder.

—Y/n —he called her, gasping for air.

—I know —she nodded, eyes closed as she tried to get some air back.

—No, you don't —he warned her—. I doubt you know how fucking in love I am with you.

The air didn't go past her throat when he said those words. Out of all the things she expected Jungkook to say after having sex with her, a confession wasn't among them.

—W... What?

—You drive me crazy, and not because I'm balls deep in you. You drive me so crazy, really, and I hate it, but at the same time it feels so good —his forehead rested on hers, while his palm caressed her cheek—. You're like the one Wi-Fi connection that actually works in a coffee shop -unexpected, frustrating at times, but I'd totally lose my mind without you. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is... congrats, you've ruined me. And I'm okay with that. Actually, I don't want it to stop. I need it to keep growing until...

She interrupted him before he could go on with that vomit of words that only kept linking one sentence to another that had the same meaning. Y/n was sure that if she didn't stop it, he probably would go on that way for another ten minutes.

—Did you compare me with free wifi?

—You compared me with a discount the other day, so I guess we're set.

Her fingers nervously played with the hairs on his nape, wondering whether she should say what she felt. She liked Jungkook, she was awfully attracted to him, but she wasn't sure to call it love. And if it was love, she certainly wasn't ready to say those words out loud.

Jungkook saw through her hesitation, linking their lips together to ease her mind as she helped her hop down the ring.

—Let's go home —his lips were soft on her temple—. It's your turn to pay for the Chinese.

—Are you sure you don't want to go for a second round?

—Nice try —he pecked her lips—. Put your panties on, and let's go. 

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[juicedbug]

Semper Fucking Fi - Part One

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

At the time, the choice to have air support felt like a great one. But that was before they all simultaneously fell through the earth and landed themselves into endless caverns of hell.

It was certainly before he had stumbled upon Salim, and the concern for his safety that came with their meeting.

Even with the daylight finally being bestowed upon them, Jason still couldn't believe all that had happened.

He couldn't possibly process the events, the grief, the 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴.

And just when he thinks it might settle, even uncomfortably so, the ripping sound of helicopter blades makes itself known just outside the hut they've all collapsed in; exhausted and bloodied.

"There's our backup," Eric announces as if it isn't obvious.

Jason watches him momentarily, pushing himself from his lean on the chipped at wall. He debated sitting upon the floor, at least just for a second, to rest his legs. Instead, something within him was eager to still be at the ready, to not allow his defenses to fall quite yet.

The others don't seem to share that feeling with him, or maybe they just handle the whole hoard of alien vampires thing a bit better than he.

"Jason," Salim calls out the moment they're alone, reaching to grasp Jason's arm before he has the chance to join the rest of the survivors.

"I do not know how this is going to play out. . ."

Jason looks down at the hand on his arm before lifting his gaze to the man that owns it. He wears a reassuring smile. "Salim, you ain't an enemy no more. And if they don't see that, then I can be very convincin'."

Salim chuckles. Jason seems as charming as ever. Despite everything. "I have no doubts," he responds fondly, the smile upon his lips flickering downwards shortly there after.

Jason notices, his brows twitching together in an ill-concealed worry. He steps closer, unarmed hands lowered to his sides. The movement feels foreign. He isn't sure how long they all spent down there, gripping an assortment of weapons at all times. His fingertips buzz with the newfound emptiness.

"What is it? Ya worried 'bout your boy? Cause we can work somethin' out, I'll make sure of it -"

"Jason," Salim chimes through his rambles, releasing a sigh through his nose. "This is not about Zain."

Jason blinks, staring at salim from the brim of his hat. ". .Then what's this about?"

Salim hovers. Jason can practically see the hesitancy on the other man's dirt covered features, and it matches the way his voice sounded down there when he was certain that he would die alone.

Jason doesn't push him, however. Even if they're running out of time to talk like this. His gaze falls from Salim's face at the sound of him ruffling with his uniform, eyeing the way he begins to undo the front of it.

"Uh. . .Salim. . ." Jason trails, quick to tear his focus away. He feels a heat rise in his cheeks, but he's hoping the hut is just dark enough to not bring attention to it.

"It is only getting worse," Salim says, drawing Jason's gaze right back to where it started. Beyond what salim could undo of his uniform is the three slashes he received during that ambush with Dar, only the ripped flesh isn't just coated in crimson, it's slicked down with a thick, grey substance, as well. It's spreading, like it's embedded within the skin.

Jason swallows, shaking his head. "It's - you're fine, Salim. It's probably just irritated from the dirt and dust and shit. Once we get you cleaned up, it'll heal better."

Salim stares at him. He doesn't seem too convinced. He parts his lips to politely disagree, but it isn't his voice that sounds through hole covered walls.

"Jason, Salim," Rachel chimes in, peering at them from where she stands in the doorway. Her brow raises as Salim buttons his uniform back up, but she doesn't utter a word of it.

"What are you two waiting for? Let's get the hell out of here, shall we?"

Jason loiters where he stands, his eyes remaining on Salim as if he didn't quite catch what Rachel had said.

"Kolchek--" she persists.

Jason bristles. "Heard ya loud and clear, ma'am," he mutters over his shoulder. Seeing as she's clearly not leaving without the two of them, Jason decides it's best not to keep her waiting.

The process with Centcom is long and perhaps even more painful than the whole ordeal that got them there in the first place. They ask their questions, and then they keep them from doing much of anything outside of repeating their answers over and over again. Jason has a distant yet repulsive feeling that they plan to sweep the entire situation under the rug and deal with it in the shadows.

"This is such bullshit," Nick voices aloud. It seems the silence has become far too restricting for his liking. They've all been shoved into a single room for so-called quarantine.

All of them expect Salim.

"I just wanted a shower," he adds in bubbling annoyance.

Rachel scoffs out a humorless laugh from across the room. "𝘠𝘰𝘶 wanted a shower?"

Normally, jason would join in on the banter, if only because it would keep him from losing what's left of his sanity. But he's got much bigger things to brood over than being cleaned.

"Why isn't Salim in here with us?" he asks suddenly and with haste, turning towards the three of them as if they'd have some sort of answer for him.

". . .He's an Iraqi soldier," Eric offers suggestively. Judging by the look Jason wears, it isn't the answer he was looking for.

"Don't gimme that shit. He's more than that. If they want us to fuckin' quarantine, why ain't we 𝘢𝘭𝘭 in here?"

Eric goes to speak again, but the sound of approaching footsteps interrupts him. Jason is almost grateful if it weren't for him immediately turning to find yet another clown in an atrociously yellow colored hazmat suit.

"Where's Salim?" He demands.

The slightly taller man says nothing at first, peering down at the clipboard within his left hand. ". . .The Iraqi is being held elsewhere while we run some tests. It appears he has an infection from the wound on his chest."

The room finds that silence from before, and Jason doesn't have to face the others to know they've all just exchanged a look. Clearly, they weren't made aware of how bad of shape Salim was in. He trusted Jason of all people with the information, albeit doing so very last minute.

The situation doesn't at all call for it, yet something about that trust being placed on him makes his heart do a double backflip in his chest.

"So, what does that mean exactly?" Rachel takes the initiative to step up, seeing as Jason seems momentarily frozen in place.

The man within the suit breathes out a sigh, "it means we will be keeping him for as long as necessary until we can figure out everything there is to know about this infection."

Briefly, it's as if the world just simply stops. Jason can't figure out as to why he can abruptly care so much for a man he met only a handful of hours ago. But he supposes nearly dying together must have something to do with it.

Regardless of his questions and wonders, he can't bear the thought of them poking and prodding at Salim like some lab rat. As if he's one of those 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴. He's a person, for Christ's sake. Possibly the most beautiful person that Jason has ever met.

This is it. That saying his father used to yap about right before he sent him off to military school. He's been left stuck between a rock and a hard place. If Salim is infected like they've seen before, it's only a matter of time until that parasite slowly takes over.

But if Jason, or any of them, were to mention the use of a uv light, Centcom will surely continue to ask their questions. Whose to say they won't poke and prod at Rachel, too.

He looks to her. By the time he's done so, he's found a knowing frown upon her lips. He can't help but mirror it.

"What about us, then?" Eric asks. Jason finds it within himself not to completely lose his shit. Nevertheless, all he can hear is the words Eric dared to utter back within that hive of monsters.

"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴."

"You will be held here for tonight, as well. Until we can find a solution behind what you have described to us."

The suspicious conversation officially falls on deaf ears.

Jason can just barely make out the argument. The protests of Nick, Eric, and Rachel blend, and the vacant answers the yellow scientist offers feel unimportant.

The only thing that matters to Jason is the fact that he's officially been granted more time. At least, one more night.

Decidedly, he'll make it out of his plastic prison.

𝘏𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘮.

[sugar-omi]

Since we’re kinda on the topic of car head, imagine Cove’s reaction to Mc suggesting road head while on the way to see Cove’s mom. God he’d be so red and holding on to the steering wheel so fucking hard trying not to crash at the near thought of it

cove would so crash. he wouldn't be able to focus at all, probably wouldn't be able to keep his composure until he at least hits his 40s

bring it up during step 3, he probably swerve the car from SHOCK. step 4, he'd laugh, thinking you're joking... but if you're being pretty serious, he needs you to stop playing w him rn unless you wanna crash or be late

regardless of step, i hope your destination is close because he cannot focus anymore, now that the thought is out there the car feels small and hot

but i have to entertain the thought too because i've thought about it before n it eats up my brain every time LOL

like i said, a younger cove would get so flustered if your hand travels up his thigh, palming him through his jeans.. by the time you pull down his zipper, he's already looking to pull over

but imagine an older cove encouraging you go down on him while he drives.

"it's a long drive to my mom's, i need you to help keep me awake"

even though it's his idea, he makes you do all the work. you have to get him hard, undo his pants.. he's driving after all, you can't expect him to focus on anything but the road

eases his chair back a bit once you get to a stop light, being oh so kind to give you enough room

groans and tries to focus while you're going down on him, your spit running down his balls, staining his jeans. your throat is so warm around him, your tongue circling around his pretty cock head

don't get cocky and try to distract him, as much as he loves your enthusiasm, your hands working his balls while you take as much of him down your throat as you can, pulling off and lavishing his leaky head with attention from your tongue..

he'd growl, forcing his eyes to stay focused on the road. he wishes he could just throw his head back and focus on the heat and wetness of your mouth, but he can't

grips your hair as he slows down for a red light, don't tease him so much. "fuck, i can't focus when you do that.."

tries not to look at you, tries to ignore how your lips are swollen and shiny with spit and cum and how flushed, and lidded your eyes are, giving you a sultry expression.

"don't blame me. you wanted this, so focus on the road."

can't even argue with you about that... but he does get a bit of revenge when you're stuck in traffic, too far behind to see whats up.

another big big brain worm... you n cove getting up to stuff in the car, and there's some truckers next to you. i can't get that video i saw of a trucker saying he saw sooo many women getting off while on their way to work, stuck in traffic.

cove can't ignore that there's a big truck next to you, the guy easily able to see inside. doesn't care when the guy looks over either.

just tells you that it'll be awhile before you move.. and tangles his fingers in your hair, thrusting up into your mouth, throwing his head back while you moan and whimper around his length, the vibrations going straight through him.

forces your head down while he finishes, his cum filling your mouth, his spend spilling past your lips and you can't help but whine. maybe at the loss, maybe at the mess.. who knows

at least he's darling enough to offer you a tissue <3

[ghostieyanyan]

I have fun headcanons for a shy, kind MC who secretly hides the fact that they’re a musician and they write their own songs. Maybe they were in a rock band in their original world. Maybe the MC wrote a live song for the Yandere of your choice and they overheard them singing it alone. I was thinking maybe Malleus or Idia personally but it’s up to you

im gonna talk about both so yes!

~Musical!mc~

Yan!Idia x mc

Yan!Malleus x mc

Warning: slight hints of NSFW, yandere, stalking, mention of death

~~~~~

Idia

he'll totally find out with his hidden cameras.

He would be playing a game and hears music, but not from his game? takes off his headphones and looks for what's playing music? Like we haven't done that before.. pff- He finds that he accidentally left one of the camera sound on but he's not disappointed with what he finds.

there you are, singing your heart out, with notebook and instrument in hand. you looked heavenly. he felt like you were a siren that was calling for him.

he immediately snaps out of it and searches something up... you kinda look like an idol from an anime he’s been obsessed with recently. i mean, you might have to clean up a bit and he very likely has all the things you need for your idol look. plus if he doesn't have it, it'll just buy it or make it for you. Its perfect!

you're perfect..

he just needs to have you, preserve you. kinda like one of his figures in his room.

but before he comes up with a plan, he wants to hear you sing more. he'll likely record your songs, your voice, hey, even your mistakes. he loves them so much.

bet, he has it as his ring tone for just him to hear.

depending on when this discovery happens, before or during chapter 6 is when he takes mc.

if its before, he'll probably wait and get as much information on you as he can. plus more recordings of your voice, you likely be scared when he has you in his hands. like a scared little bird, who's wings are getting clipped.. another reason to wait, your friends will notice when you are gone. overblot after overblot. you poor baby, that's why he has to preserve you, its dangerous out there. so many nasty person with there gross thoughts and slimy hands. you're one to talk...

if its during, then ya, he'll grab you. of course keep you away from these monsters but close to him. he'll likely keep you in a room alone for a bit to take care of those other students but whenever he has free time, hell stop by and visit. he'll show you all the recordings of your music and gives you your notebook and instrument because he doesn't want his personal idol to be so lonesome. sing your heart out like you do when you "think" you're alone. its the same here as it is when you're out there. you singing and him... listening.

it'll probably take a while for you to get use to him so he wont push you to wear the idol outfit but be warn when or if you do, he's not going to let you go. You might not be able to use your legs for a while.

~~~~~

Malleus

He'd very likely hear it at night on his strolls.

It'll be the dead of night, he'll be looking at the stars and moon shining brightly. then, with his fae ears, he hears a meloty. he told at first it were the other smaller fae in the woods by the Ramshackle dorm. but it was so enchanting that he couldn't help but walk to it. he felt like the sleeping princess to the spindle.

when he finally identify the voice, he was surprised to find the NRC's perfect.

they were looking at the stars with him and he just felt his heart strings pull but he didn't understand this feeling. whenever he’s confused and needed guidance, he'd turn to Lillia.

Lillia explained to him that maybe this small little human has enchanted him with a spell and he HAS to confront them to find out. Cause he'll totally play match maker. So he did.

the next day, he confronts you about it. he starts with telling you that you're voice is enchanting and you've put him under a spell that he cant undo. he asked what type of magic in your world that's so powerful that he cant understand. 

You’d likely laugh on how silly it was, you and a magic spell?

you explain to him that you didn't put a spell on him and that you were just working on your song since you weren't tired that night and you had time for yourself, which for the perfect its very rare to have some quiet time.

he understand, kinda but not really, and requested to hear more.

I'm going off that mc is stage fright shy so they polite say no. which didn't feel right to malleus. i feel like he’s a little spoiled and stubborn so say no to him of all people is weird. but that's okay, its not like you need to know he’s there listening anyway.

he’d likely find out when you practice your songs and makes a schedule. and when you don't follow that schedule, lets just say.. you didn't know it’ll be storming today??

this is also all before he finds out you’ll likely be leaving soon. no.. you cant leave. his song bird CANT leave. if such a thing happens well then, all of twisted wonderland will have to burn. and you don't want that right?

he’ll have you in a big cage, with a small window for light. the cage will be held high up and below you is bushes of bushes of thorns. they look very unpleased. but don't worry, even with the tiny window for light you’ll be surrounded with your favorite flowers and the comfiest bed you've ever seen. anything you need or want will be brought to you say long as you do one small thing for malleus. 

sing.

and if you don't want to? he’ll give you a reason why you cant use your voice...

~~~~~