#it's nearly smut o'clock

[suguboos]

DOUBLE OR NOTHING

after countless empty promises spilled from his lips, you wanted to believe that he’d show up to your anniversary of all things.

FEATURING: toji fushiguro x wife! reader

CONTENTS: non canon compliant/au, marriage problems, talks of divorce, angst, smut, porn w/out plot rly, unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, doggy, missionary against a wall, pet names (ma, princess, etc.)

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: repost bc i need this dilf in my bed rn 😞

"I'll make it home to you by six, mama. Take you out on a nice date, get you some flowers, all that stuff you like. Promise."

The clock was nearing eight o'clock with no signs of Toji coming through the door anytime soon, your own patience starting to run out with every tick. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. The sound echoed through your ears since you'd sat down on the leather couch nearly two hours ago, waiting for Toji to fulfill the promise. A promise that he'd made after flaking out on the date planned prior to that one.

And prior to that one. And prior. It'd been more missed dates than actual ones that he'd taken you out by now—you weren't exactly sure why you'd hoped for tonight to be different. Well, you knew exactly why. Today marked three years of being married to one another. You knew that he didn't prioritize date nights with you as much as he should, but you had held some sort of foolish hope that your anniversary would mean something—anything to him.

The divorce papers felt like a dead weight in your hand, much like how your relationship would be the second that you brought it up. It all just seemed so final, seeing the terms laid out that would end years of marriage. Just by the flick of a pen. But the idea was almost like a reprieve, like something that was worth looking forward to. You shook your head, getting up from the couch to set the stack of papers on the kitchen table where Toji wouldn't miss them.

Another half hour of eerie silence and Toji still hadn't come through the door. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep some semblance of hope that he'd even show up at all, much less for your date. You admitted defeat, slipping off your heels and pulling up a throw blanket over yourself. Succumbing to the sleep that was weighing down on your eyelids.

You weren't even sure how much time had passed when you heard the door swing open, the door hitting the wall from the force. The thud of his shoes hitting the tile followed, a grumble leaving Toji's lips. "Fuckin' bastards rigged that race. Robbed me of fifty bucks," he muttered to himself, slipping his coat off before placing it up on the coat rack.

"You're home late," you called out, watching as Toji turned to look at the couch before flicking on one of the living room lights. "Jesus woman, you scared me," he grumbled, a large hand resting by his chest as he looked over in your direction. Toji rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion lingering on his face like a second skin. It was only then that he looked over at you, really looked at you, and what you were wearing.

Ah shit.

Almost as if he wanted to make the situation worse, he'd chosen to go with, "You got all dolled up just to fall asleep on the couch?" You could've sworn you felt your eye twitch at the question. He'd barely opened up his mouth and you were already wishing that he didn't even bother showing up for the night.

Toji knew he was in deep shit with each step he took into the living room, his mind already starting to work overdrive to figure out what he could do for what he'd missed. A date? No, you wouldn't have put on the very expensive pair of Louboutins for just any date. His mind was blanking on anything other than the numbers that he'd lost with earlier in the day. Come on, think.

"No, I got dolled up because I thought I'd be going out with my husband tonight," you retorted dryly, smudges of eyeshadow sticking to your hand when you went to rub at your eyes. You could see Toji's brows furrow, the wheels seeming to turn in his head for once, before a look of realization settled on his features.

"Look, I'm sorry. I got carried away at the casino," one of the many excuses you'd heard before coming back to bite you in the ass. The same excuse that he'd used last month when he forgot about a work party you'd mentioned to him. Which wouldn't have been too bad if it weren't for all the snide comments being whispered in your direction and all the unwarranted marriage advice.

Advice that you ended up forgetting about chugging down two glasses of tequila like water. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. You can pick the place and all that shit." There went another one. He'd really topped himself using the two of them in a row. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, looking over at him in disbelief. "Do you even know what today was? Why I'm so pissed off?"

"It's your birthday?" Toji spoke after a couple seconds, the answer clearly wrong just by the look on his face. You rubbed a hand over your face, standing up from your spot on the couch. "It's our wedding anniversary, Toji," you spoke up before he made another guess that would just piss you off even further, "And I have something I need to talk to you about. It's on the kitchen table."

Underneath the vase filled with wilted flowers—a collection more than anything that you kept around as a reminder that Toji used to care, was a stack of papers. He placed the vase down on the table with more force than necessary upon realizing what the documents were. "A divorce?" The words slipped out of him with such venom, such distaste, like the idea was unfathomable.

Toji slammed the papers down on the table, the salt and pepper shakers trembling before falling over. "Is that really what you want?" He stepped closer to you when you approached the table, his hands instinctively moving to hold your hips. Holding you close to his body. "No, I didn't get married with the intention of getting a divorce. But you've been neglecting this marriage for a couple months now."

"I'll make it up to you now," Toji spoke quickly, like he was afraid of losing you at any moment. Like you'd disappear if he didn't. And as much as you wanted to avoid looking over at him, the task had just become all that much difficult when you had nowhere else to look at. It only took one glance at his face to realize just what he meant by 'making it up to you.'

"You think you're gonna fix months of pushing me aside with just sex?"

"Nah, I know it's gonna take more. But you've been so tired, isn't that right? So tired of tryin' to keep this marriage from falling apart and nobody taking care of you?" His words were like a siren's song when he whispered them in your ear, your traitorous body leaning back to meet the drag of your fingertips. It was almost laughable at how easily your resolve had melted. "Lemme take care of you mama. Promise I'll make you feel good."

"You wanna call me a dick, never wanna see me again? That's fine, just don't deny me one last taste. Please," And while Toji wasn't a man to beg for anything in his life, he found himself saying the words anyways. "Thought this was you making it up to me," and as much as you were willing yourself not to fold, you felt yourself spreading your legs almost instinctively when his finger dragged up your inner thigh.

"Can't it be both?" Toji's teeth nipped at your neck, licking a stripe up the junction of your neck. Practically salivating at the taste of you, of the expensive perfume you'd put on just a mere hours beforehand. "One could say that you're just being selfish," your words quickly died out when Toji started sucking on your pulse point, your own heartbeat betraying you. You'd expected Toji to sass you back, say something about how your body was just so needy against his touch.

But instead, he dropped down to his knees in front of you. The wooden floor underneath his knees almost made him feel bad for all the times he had you in a similar position. Almost. Toji looked up at you, "Selfish only when it comes to you."

Every slow drag of his fingertips across your smooth skin seemed almost reverent— like you were something to worship. You were, he just failed to realize that until now. Until you were almost out the door. "I'm sorry," the first real apology of the night slipped out of his mouth, his lips pressed against your shin. "I'm sorry," he moved up to your knee, repeating the action. Hushed whispers of I'm sorry's and featherlight kisses moving up your legs, stopping only when he gets to your clothed cunt.

"I'm sorry," Toji uttered his last apology against your cunt, his eyes locking onto yours as he applied an open mouthed kiss on your clothed clit. Barely darting his tongue out, swirling it against the nerves that were just begging for one ounce of stimulation. And he was practically reveling in how needy he made you in the span of seconds. Your back arched to rest against the seat behind you, one of your hands going to rest on his head.

Toji's fingers dragged slowly in between your folds, feeling the wet patch already starting to form through the thin lace material. You refused to make eye contact with him, knowing that if you did, he'd be able to see just how desperate you were in just a manner of seconds. Even if the bastard probably had a clue already. "You sure your pussy agrees with the divorce?" His voice came out to something akin to a purr, the drag of his fingers slowing down.

Getting you even more worked up than you were already. "Fucking hate you, can't even apologize right," you let out a hiss, your hand going down to his hair. Pulling his head even closer to you despite your previous claim. "Fine, I'll apologize correctly," Toji sounded like you were the one inconveniencing him—to which you were. He wanted to take his time with his meal, have you begging for him to touch you. And normally, he would've.

If he weren't desperate to have your cunt on his face again after weeks, months? of just having his fist to work with. His fist and a used pair of your panties up to his nose like a pervert, hips humping the air in desperation. Imagining that it was your tongue flicking across his leaking tip instead of his thumb, that it was your soft hands in exchange of his rough ones. And as easy as it was for him to get laid—he didn't want to be with anyone that wasn't you.

Toji hadn't tasted someone as sweet as you, heard someone so angelic before, but now he supposed that maybe he'd have to put that theory to the test if you left him after all. Just the idea was maddening. That someone else would be doing the same thing that he's doing to you now, that they'd give you the affection that he should've given.

"Especially sorry to you. Been neglecting you for too long," he hooked his fingers around the side of your panties, pulling them to the side just enough to reveal your slick folds to him. Toji swiped the tip of his finger along your entrance, your slick glistening against the harsh kitchen lighting before he stuck in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it, licking away at it like the slut he was.

And like the deprived man that he'd been, Toji's hands went to the lace of your underwear and stretched it out until a loud rip echoed throughout the kitchen. "You always this wet for people you hate? Or is that just for me?" Toji taunted, pushing your tattered panties down to your ankles. Finally leaning in closer to where you were aching for him to touch you. To do something other than just tease you relentlessly.

Toji settled on his knees behind you, spreading your legs open like you were his favorite meal. His tongue swiped up on your dripping cunt, licking up your essence with sheer greed. "Mmph fuck, so good," his words came out muffled, his tongue swiping across your folds before darting inside of your cunt. Your grip on the table tightened, your hips working on their own accord to push back onto his face. Practically suffocating him in your pussy. Not that he minded. By any means.

Toji practically welcomed it, his hands pushing you down onto his face. Getting absorbed in your cunt completely. "A-Ah fuck, Toji!" You could already see the noise complaint hanging on your front door first thing in the morning. But how could you be expected to keep your voice down? Toji spread your folds apart with two fingers as if he were preparing for a feast, his tongue feverishly licking in between.

"Fuckin' soaked already, knew you loved me," The vibration of the low chuckle that followed his words shot currents up your spine, your ass jiggling all that much more in his face. With such a decadent taste coating his taste buds, dying by your pussy would be nothing short of a blissful way to go out. One of the fingers that he'd been using to spread your folds had been pushed inside of your cunt, your walls clenching around him.

Toji's tongue flicked against your clit, swirling the tip around the bud while his finger slowly pushed further inside of you. The loud squelch of your cunt was the only thing that filled the apartment, everything else completely silent. Your fingers dug deeper into his scalp, a low groan leaving his lips. "F-Fuck, Toji Toji," he pushed another thick finger inside, moving them in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.

"You think y're gonna find someone who can do this?" Toji looked up at you, his fingers curling up to hit that spongy spot inside of you almost perfectly. And if you didn't know any better, you'd almost say that he looked vulnerable while he made the question. Toji's lips wrapped around your clit, gently sucking on it as his fingers worked you closer and closer to your orgasm. You couldn't bring yourself to answer—didn't trust yourself to speak.

"Toji, Toji, gonna cum," you gave him a warning, your jaw falling slack and your lips parting in a o-shape. Soundless moans leaving your lips, feeling that coil in your lower tummy start to tighten up all the much more. With one final pump of his fingers, you were covering his lips with your release. His tongue swiped across his lips, across the scar that he hated, collecting every drop. Savoring what he imagined would be the last taste of you.

"Turn around," It was almost embarrassing how quickly you'd turned around per your soon-to-be ex husband's request.

Toji didn't take more than a couple seconds in unbuttoning his pants and taking them off, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. Precum dribbled from his annoyingly almost pretty pink tip, dripping onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. His cock slid through your folds like a slip n slide, your previous orgasm coating his tip with every lazy drag. "Toji," your voice bordered on a whine, pushing your hips to try to meet his movements.

"Tell me what you want," Toji clicked his tongue, one of his hands moving to hold your waist. Keeping you completely still until he got what he wanted. You figured there wasn't any harm in whining—you were already fucking the man after you brought up a divorce. There truly wasn't that much more to lose. "Why do I have to ask for it when you're the one apologizing?"

"Because you're the one pushing your hips back against me. All needy 'n shit. So.. beg."

"Want you inside me, Toji. Please."

"Want?"

You let out a huff before correcting yourself, "Need."

"Come on, doll. You can say it nicer than that, right?" Toji's pointer trailed up your torso, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

So goddamn annoying. You swallowed whatever pride you had left before looking back over at him, "Please, Toji. Need your cock in me. Please."

Toji clicked his tongue, one hand wrapping around his cock and giving himself a couple tentative pumps. "Think you can beg better than that. But since I'm feeling nice, I guess I'll let it slide." So much for feeling apologetic. Toji pushed his cock inside of you in one swift motion, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. Even with the fingers that'd been inside of you, nothing could've really prepared you.

"You okay?" Toji dropped his head to rest on your shoulder, whispering the words in your ear. Staying still while your walls tried to adjust to the overwhelming stretch. "You try taking your cock," you muttered dryly, giving him a nod to start moving. "Why would I do that when you take it so well?" Toji pushed the rest of his cock inside, his hands resting on your hips.

Toji wasn't particularly known for being gentle—the one hospital visit after he'd injured your cervix more than enough proof of that, but he started off slow. Slow, shallow thrusts. Fucking you in a way that he hasn't since your honeymoon. "Toji, you can speed up," you assured him, your words getting cut off with a smack to your ass. "What I'd say about tellin' me what to do?" Ah, there was the mean Toji that you recognized.

"Wouldn't need to tell you what to do if my vibrator wasn't looking more appealing right now."

Famous last words.

The change was almost immediate. Mascara dribbled down your cheeks, the sight of your once composed makeup all ruined making Toji's cock twitch inside of you. "Fucking pretty like this, y'know?" His teeth sunk down on the junction of your shoulder, his teeth grazing across the sensitive flesh. His hips snapped roughly into yours, your breathing growing erratic. "Fuck, Fuck, Toji!"

The coldness of his gold wedding band hit your skin as soon as he went to grip your hips, holding you against him like he needed to be close to you. The two of you had been distant for some time and he hadn't bothered to take off his wedding band once, not even on the rare occasion that he actually did happen to take a job. Toji would never admit it, of course—but he was starved for the feeling of your skin against his own.

To confirm that you were still here after all.

Your hands reached out to grab to whatever you could grab—anything, and of course, it just happened to be the divorce papers sitting on the middle of the table. Practically taunting you as your own signature glared back at you. "This good enough for you, princess?" Toji taunted in your ear, his blunt fingernails digging into your sides. "Mhm, j-just like that," your voice came out in a mewl, all bits of defiance completely out of your system.

"There you go. Nasty fucking girl," Toji all but purred in your ear the moment you started to jerk your hips back to meet his own, your ass bouncing with each one of his thrusts. "Just needed Toji to take care of ya," all you could was nod your head fervently, your grip on the divorce papers tightening. And Toji, of course, took notice. He took the papers from you with one hand, giving them a once-over before passing them back over.

"Come on, since ya wanted it so bad, read me those divorce papers," Toji handed you the stack of papers, pointing to where you'd signed your initials just a couple hours prior. Your hands shook as you held the papers, your vision blurry as you tried to make out the legal jargon in front of you. Even the simplest of words seemed all too complicated to try to make out.

"T-Toji, I can't," your voice cracked, your grip on the papers tightening when his cock reached all that much deeper inside of you. Toji clicked his tongue, peering over your shoulder to read the first sentence from the document. "That's not what it says ma, try again."

"Without all the stuttering too."

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to focus on the words in front of you instead of Toji's cock sinking further and further into you. "S-Says that the divorce agreement was made today between us," you clutched the sheets tighter, your eyes almost rolling back when Toji bottomed out inside of you. The tip of his cock dripping precum, your walls fluttering as you tried to get adjusted.

"Mm, yeah, keep goin'," Toji really couldn't care—his focus solely on the way that your cunt stretched out to fit his cock. Leaking around his shaft, loud squelches when he pulled out overplaying whatever shitty soap opera was playing. "And what'd I say about the s-stuttering?" Toji mocked your words, his own hips stuttering mere seconds later while he tried not to get absorbed in your cunt. Not that it was an easy task by any means.

It was hard, especially with the way that you claimed to be over this marriage despite your pussy claiming otherwise. When you opened your mouth to speak, the only thing that left you was a moan. "F-Fuck Toji, right there," your eyes shut tightly at the touch of his calloused hand making itself in between your legs, his thumb rubbing at your clit in a speed that felt like it combated his own running abilities.

"That's not what it says, c'mon," Toji grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer, turning your head to face the overwhelmingly long divorce papers. You wouldn't finish tonight if he intended for you to read the whole thing, you knew that much. A harsh slap against your swollen clit made the pleasure coursing through your veins mix with pain, a shaky gasp leaving your kiss-swollen lips.

Drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, the black ink smearing with each drop that fell from your parted lips. Your walls enveloped every inch of his cock perfectly, your cunt holding his cock in a vice-like grip. "That I won't try to t-take your things," you managed to get out, hoping that it would be good enough. You knew the two of you wouldn't finish today if he made you read the never ending stack of papers. 

"Good enough," Toji sounded like he would've kept it going if he could, but you set them down as quickly as he spoke. It was almost like Toji was trying to remind you of why you'd fallen in love with him in the first place—the man reverent to your cunt and your cunt only. Every grip of your hips kept you closer and closer to his body, almost as a way for Toji to make sure you weren't slipping away.

"Wh—" Before you had the chance to complain about the loss of contact, Toji had already carried you without a smidge of struggle. His hands hooked underneath your plush thighs, hoisting you up against the wall. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his slutty waist, practically clinging onto him like a koala. "There we go, there's that pretty lil face," Toji placed his pointer underneath your chin, taking in the view in front of him.

The glazed over look in your eyes, the sweat beading up on your forehead, the makeup that he'd successfully ruined—everything about you was just so beautiful. How you tried to avoid looking in his direction for too long. "Don't leave me ma, need you in my life," the words were whispered into your ear, his cock pushing back inside of you in one swift motion. Toji's fingers went back to your throbbing clit, his pointer and middle rubbing against it at the perfect speed.

Not too fast, not too slow, and not too rough.

"Don't ask me to do that," you almost sounded pained as you spoke—not from him filling you up, but for the implication of his words. You'd practically babble anything right now, anything for him to keep going. To forget about the reality that awaits the two of you. Toji's lips found yours in an instant, the exchange between the two of you almost depraved. His mouth was feverish in the way that it moved against yours, like he'd never get the chance again.

Your hand went to the back of his head, pushing him closer against you. Letting yourself forget for just a little while longer. A string of saliva connected your lips to his when you pulled away—only to catch air. "I’m close, Toji, so close," you whined against his lips, your release coating his shaft a mere moments later. Toji only used that as lubricant, his movements quicker against your cunt to chase his own release.

"There's no one else for me, I'll stop goin' to t-the casino, stop gettin' into trouble," Toji had been reduced to a babbling the first thing he pulled out of his ass, if only to get you to stay. His head rested against the junction of your neck, basking in the remnants of proximity that he could get. Shaky breaths left his lips with each thrust of his hips, feeling himself getting closer and closer. "You've been saying that since we've been married."

"I mean it this time, I promise," you'd never heard a lie sound so pretty slipping from someone's lips before until now.

He bit down on the side of your neck, hard. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to where you'd probably have to use a tube of concealer to even attempt to cover up the bruising mark. Causing you problems even now. But you'd be lying if the sudden act of possessiveness had your walls clenching against him even tighter, if that was even possible anymore.

His cock was barely moving against the tight grip you held around his shaft, his pace stuttering. "Fuck, fuck, so tight," Toji let out a loud groan, completely at the will of your pussy. He threw his head back, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks in this lighting. Ropes and ropes of cum decorated your cunt, his softening length snug inside of you. Toji ended up pulling out a couple moments later, scooping the drops of cum that leaked down your thighs with his finger.

Toji was shameless in the way that he stuck the finger in his mouth, a low moan leaving his lips at the combined taste of him and you. Before your rationality came back, before you got the chance to even think about regretting this, you leaned in and crashed your lips against his own. Tasting yourself on his tongue. The kiss lingered between the two of you more than it needed to, it was less rushed than the prior ones you'd shared.

Like a last taste.

"So, you still want to get that divorce?" Toji knew you would've just babbled whatever for him to keep going, saving the question until now. His movements were almost reluctant as he pulled his pants over his legs once again, making little attempt to fix up his hair. If anything, his fingers only ended up messing the strands even more. Despite knowing the answer deep down, Toji still held out hope. That maybe you'd had some eye-opening moment while he was balls-deep.

You stood up properly, looking over at the ruined sheets on the table before looking back over at him. "I do," you spoke after a couple seconds, grabbing your tattered panties from the floor and smoothing over your dress. Trying to maintain whatever semblance of dignity you had left. Even if it was probably just as tattered up as your underwear at this point.

"Why? You know I love you. You know that you love me. So why should we get separated?" You did know that. But you also weren't sure that he'd ever loved you enough to consider changing. To consider the fact that you needed some sort of affection outside of sex.

"Because you think that somehow every problem between us can be resolved with sex. You say that you want to do better and yet, you never do. It doesn't even feel like you're my husband half of the time," all the bottled up feelings from the past couple months spilled out of you in a manner of seconds. All the bottled up thoughts that maybe you should've told your husband about earlier. Though, you weren't even sure if Toji would've paid it any mind.

And almost as if he'd read your train of thought, "Why didn't you tell me about all this before just hittin' me with divorce papers?"

"Because the few times that I did, you told me to stop bitching. That I shouldn't have anything to complain about with a roof over my head and a fridge full of food," you started off, almost waiting for him to deny what you were saying, "And while I'm not saying that I'm not thankful for those things, I also don't want to feel ungrateful for saying that I miss my husband."

Silence lingered between the two of you, each second that passed by only confirming what the two of you already knew by now. That a divorce wasn't such a far-fetched idea. Toji knew there wasn't left to even attempt fighting for, so he simply just told you, "I'll sign 'em when you get the new ones."

[detectivesvu]

Flirtatious Fate

Rafael Barba x Fem! Detective! Reader Tags: Near smut. Lots of flirting. Barba and Reader almost get caught. Sonny being a great advice giver. Word Count: 6.5k "And what if we are? Would that be such a bad thing?"

It wasn't at all uncommon for the counselor to work overtime.

Rafael more than likely worked more overtime hours than any of the attorneys in the whole building. He lived for his work, so it was no shock that it was nearly 8:00 o'clock and he was still buried in his work with no intention of going anywhere anytime soon. Most of the building had thinned out. All the people who were much better at maintaining a work-life balance had left hours ago - leaving Rafael as practically the only one left. Not that he minded, he could always work better alone.

But he didn't mind having some company. There were a few faces that he always was always welcome to and would always make time for...especially one in particular.

His attention was stolen away from his work when there was a knock on his open door, obviously indicating that someone was there to see him. Clearly, he wasn't the only one who pulled a lot of overtime hours.

He knew exactly who was at his door just by the specific sound of the knock. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did - and his heart fluttered at the knowledge of the person at his door.

Their relationship was complicated, although neither of them realized that the way they acted toward one another made things a gray area. They simply believe they were colleagues...friendly colleagues at best. Somehow, neither of them really realized that their dynamic came from a much more personal and emotional place.

Nonetheless, he was happy she was there...even though he didn't realize it.

"Come in, detective." He said, without even giving a glance up from what he was working on.

A genuine smile was on the detective's face at the sound of his invitation. She entered the room with a cup of coffee in each hand, her foot kicking the door closed behind her as she entered. She was alone in her entrance, and the fact that her partner wasn't with her let him know this wasn't a business visit.

“Counselor,” She greeted. “Do you have time for coffee and a chat?”

If there was any single person in the world who could outdrink Rafael Barba when it came to coffee - it was [Y/N]. She could drink coffee at any time of day and could put down at least four cups a day. That was one thing they shared - they worked a lot and ran on nothing much pure passion for their job and heavy amounts of caffeine.

Rafael looked at her then, curious and intrigued. He wondered where her partner was, considering she was still dressed in her work attire, which also let him know she wasn't done working for the day.

"Be my guest," He gestured to the chair opposite his desk, leaning back in his own seat knowing he was about to be distracted completely. "What brings you here?"

She approached him, handing him a hot latte that was fresh and just to his liking. As coffee connoisseurs, they had entertained plenty of coffee conversations in the past. He wasn't really at all shocked that she knew his preference in coffee. He watched her from over the rim of his cup as she sat down with her own drink, clearly very comfortable in his presence.

"Carisi is upstairs talking to someone, so I figured I'd stop by and say hello." She said casually, but the sparkle in her eye let him know she had come by for more than a quick greeting.

A small smirk appeared on his face when he caught that look in her eyes. He knew her too well. She was here for a bigger reason. They were always usually very to the point with each other. They saw no reason to waste time when she was here with a purpose.

"Is that so? You came all this way just to say 'hello' to me?" He asked, a hint of playfulness in his normally dry tone.

She shrugged, a knowing grin appearing on her face as she ran her finger absentmindedly around the lid of her cup.

"Well..." She began. "I might have something interesting to tell you."

Now this made more sense. The coffee, the late visit, the giddiness. She was here to gossip - a habit that she frequently and flat out denied that she ever took part in.

"Okay," He nodded, his smirk now turning more curious. "Don't keep me in suspense."

She set her coffee down on his desk, now sitting up completely straight as she used both her hands to talk. He knew she had something big if she was this focused.

"You know how I'm kind of friends with the secretary on the fifth floor of the precinct?" She asked, jogging his memory. "Remember how I was telling you she had been acting strange?"

Rafael's eyes darted around the room as he racked his brain. mentally sorting through hundreds, if not thousands, of conversations the two of them had shared until he placed it.

"Yeah, you said she was acting secretive or something like that." He remembered, albeit vaguely.

"Right! You know I'm not one to gossip," She said, and Rafael had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at that comment. "But she's pregnant!"

Let the records show, Rafael had never met this said secretary before. The only things he knew about her were things that [Y/N] had disclosed to him, but evidently she had shared just enough with him for him to be all in on this revelation.

"No way," He tilted his head. "How do you know?"

"She told me!" She remarked. "I really couldn't believe it. I knew something was different about her. I had to come tell you when I could because you were the only person who agreed with me that something was up."

His heart fluttered again at that. It was purely just convenience that had brought her to his office that night, but it still made him shudder to think she had reserved a conversation solely for him.

"It seems we were right then," He took another sip, his eyebrows knitting together when he realized something. "Didn't you tell me she was single?"

There was a brief silence as she only shared a certain look with him. Her silence answered his question completely.

"Ah, so that's the crux of it all," He said, figuring he might as well fully emerge himself in this gossip session. "So, I'm guessing you have information on who the father is?"

"No," She shook her head. "I'm still working on that one...but I have a few guesses."

"Let's hear them." He encouraged her.

Normally, it would've been so unusual for Rafael to engage in this kind of talk. He didn't rightly care what a stranger to him had going on in their personal life...but he didn't like them the way he liked the detective sitting pretty in front of him, genuinely enjoying conversing with him on any given day.

"The rumor on the fifth floor is that it's a cop over in narcotics..." She took a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. "But that said cop has been gone for nearly six months. I don’t think the math adds up.”

Rafael considered her statement, nodding in agreement and urging her to continue.

"My other guess is a bit far-fetched, but not unreasonable," She said. "A few weeks ago she went home to Chicago to visit her family, and I remember her mentioning to me that she was thinking about paying an old flame of hers a visit..."

"Oh, that's interesting...and certainly a possibility, I suppose." He replied. "Is that all?"

"Yeah, that's all I got," She shrugged. "I am being unfair. I shouldn't be making a conversation out of her business."

Rafael chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well, we all indulge in a little nosy talk here and there." He said, feeling a pang of disappointment knowing this conversation was coming to an end.

“I know, I know. That’s really all I know," She reached for her coffee cup again. "But enough about me. How are things going here?”

He chuckled when she changed the subject, noticing her eyes lingering on his. He should've known she had something else locked and loaded.

"Things here are…as expected," he said, gesturing to the stacks of files on his desk. "Too many cases, too little time." He picked up his coffee, taking a sip before continuing. "But I always manage, one way or another."

“That you do, counselor.” She grinned. “This case has been a tough one…how are you holding up?”

He leaned back in his chair, a weary smile on his face.

"You know how it is." He said, and that was all he needed to say for her to completely understand.

"That I do," She sighed. "After all these years, I've never quite mastered dealing with everything we see."

"It's not easy, that's for sure," He said. "But I must say, you've handled yourself quite well in difficult situations, detective."

“I try my best,” She shrugged. “Some days I wonder if I should've stuck with my college job."

"Which was...?" He probed.

"Bartending," She confessed. "Also a stressful job, but nothing like doing police work."

This was new information to him. He actually didn't know that about her. He chuckled, imagining her in a bar apron, wiping down tables and listening to drunken rants.

"I could see that." He teased, a playful smile on his face. "But then we would be missing out on your skills as a detective."

She gave a small laugh, but didn't respond just yet. They sat in a comfortable silence, the conversation fizzling out before a new one blossomed.

"Maybe I need a vacation." She said in a way that seemed random, but this was usually how their conversations went. They would start on one topic and then end up somewhere completely different within minutes.

He took the opportunity to tease her, something that was also very common for their interactions.

"From SVU or from me?" He joked, the playful banter coming easy between them.

"Oh, never from you, Rafael." She matched his tone, his first name sliding off her tongue like it was something she said often.

He felt a brief flash of surprise when she used his first name, but he quickly recovered and played along with the banter.

"Careful, detective. That sounds almost affectionate." He teased.

She scoffed at that, an entertained smile on her face.

"We work for the law. We hardly have time to be affectionate in any regard." She said, and it was completely true.

"Yet here we are, two busy people making time for each other." He took a sip of his coffee, then looked at her with a more serious expression. "But you're right, it's not easy to balance work and personal life. Especially in our line of work."

“I can relate. Somehow you and my co-workers are the only people I really talk to,” She spoke, her voice soft. “Not…that I mind talking to you. Who else is going to tell you the neighborhood gossip?”

He smiled, genuinely flattered that she considered him one of her few friends.

"I must admit," he said, a hint of jest in his voice. "I do enjoy hearing your neighborhood gossip. It breaks up the monotony of the legal jargon."

“I imagine it does,” She returned a smile. “Maybe eventually we’ll figure out how to balance work and personal lives. Figure out how to do something other than work.”

Clearly they often toed the line between being professional, being casual, and being flirtatious. This was their norm. Everybody who knew them wouldn't even bat an eye at this conversation between them. But what Rafael said next would've raised a few brows. He wasn't sure what made him say it. Maybe it was the late hour or the moment just felt right, but he made a remark that couldn't have been confused as anything other than personal.

"Maybe we will. It's about time we started making time for ourselves." He paused, then said with a teasing smile. "And each other."

Her gaze fixed on him, her eyes slightly squinted as she smirked at him. She wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. Neither of them had ever crossed this line before. They were both aware that this was a new level of comfort with one another.

“Counselor, are you flirting with me?”

A sly smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he held her gaze.

"And if I was, detective?" He retorted.

“Mark me as surprised,” She said. “But flattered.”

They were both confident people...stubborn at times too. There would be no backing down from this. He chuckled, enjoying the back and forth banter. He leaned a bit closer in his chair, his smile growing wider.

"Is that so? You're not going to accuse me of being unprofessional?"

“That would make me a hypocrite. Me waltzing in here and gossiping about my coworker is unprofessional,” She leaned forward. “I consider this a flirtatious and pleasant conversation.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her words. He leaned closer as well, his voice a little lower now.

"Just a pleasant conversation, hm? You're not going to tell your other coworkers about this little chat?"

This situation was turning and it was turning fast. It had gone from casual to playful, and now they were trodding in a territory they had never ventured to before. This was different, but neither were backing down.

“Not at all, Counselor, if the thought of someone knowing bothers you so much.” She stood from her chair, eyes locked on him.

His smirk grew wider as she stood up, his eyes never leaving hers.

"It doesn't bother me at all." He assured her, rising to his feet as well. He moved around the desk, closing the distance between them. "In fact, I quite enjoy these little chats of ours."

“If we aren’t careful, we might become the precinct gossip.” She looked up at him, eyes sparkling.

He chuckled, finding the idea of being the source of gossip in the precinct strangely amusing. He took a step closer, his voice a low murmur as he spoke.

"And what if we are? Would that be such a bad thing?"

“Well, I would be getting a taste of my own medicine I suppose,” She said, realizing their noses were nearly touching. “Amongst other things.”

He let out a soft exhale, feeling his heart rate quicken at her close proximity. The air between them felt electrified.

"And those other things would be?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Whatever you suggest we do to ‘make time for each other’?” She said smoothly. “What did you have in mind?”

He chuckled, his gaze locked with hers. He reached out with a slow, tentative hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The feel of her skin under his fingers sent a shiver down his spine.

"I have plenty of ideas," he said, his voice low and filled with promise, "but we should probably discuss them somewhere more… private."

“Are you thinking private thoughts, Counselor?” She replied.

He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

"What do you think, detective?" His hand moved to her cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle line along her jawline. The proximity was intoxicating, and he couldn’t resist the urge to toy with her a bit more.

“I’m thinking a couple of drinks over dinner,” She said, her voice supple and sultry. “Dessert at my place.”

He chuckled, his eyes darkening with desire at her words. He lifted his other hand, gently cupping her face, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks. He leaned even closer, his lips grazing against her ear as he whispered.

"Sounds like a perfect plan."

“Don’t you want to know what you’ll be having for dessert?” She asked, her control getting close to wobbling.

His lips curled into a sinful smile, the double meaning behind her words and the shiver in her voice were all the invitation he needed. He moved even closer, his breath hot against her ear, his voice huskier than before.

"Show me, detective. I’m absolutely starving."

She smiled an awfully sultry grin, her teeth toying with her bottom lip as she whispered.

“You’re looking at it.”

His eyes darkened with a mixture of restraint and desire, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He was losing control, his hands gripping her face a bit tighter now.

"Careful, detective. If you keep talking like that, I'll have you right now on this desk."

Fire was burning between them. Their minds were racing and hearts were pounding with the knowledge of where this was going. Neither cared to try and figure out how this was happening so fast. Neither of them needed to. They just knew something between them was mutual and it was coming out in full force.

He backed her into the desk, the backs of her thighs pressed against the edge of the desk. Her hands came to start working on getting his tie off, his hands planted high on her thighs underneath her skirt. Her lips brushed against his as her breathing became heavy, the two of them mere milliseconds from going at it when there was a knock on his office door and it creaked open.

Both Rafael and the detective froze, the moment shattered by the intrusion. Rafael took a moment to compose himself, his face flushing with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as he attempted to conceal the fact that they had been just seconds away from being intimate on his desk.

He cleared his throat and took a few steps back, allowing some space between them. They both were quick to readjust themselves, totally coming back to reality of what just almost happened. Her heart was hammering away in her chest, her cheeks tinted pink as she adjusted her skirt. The intruder was none other than her detective partner, Sonny Carisi, who was blissfully unaware that he was just barely seconds away from walking in on his partner and his squad's counselor going at it.

Sonny stepped into the office, his expression serious. However, he hadn’t yet noticed the tense atmosphere in the room or the telltale signs of intimacy that were still evident on Rafael and the detective’s faces. He approached Rafael, his eyes fixed on the district attorney.

"Counselor...we have an issue with one of the witnesses in the case. Can I have a word?"

She was trying to hold her composure, acting like she wasn’t just about to get down and dirty with the counselor. Rafael took a deep breath, attempting to compose himself. The interruption had cooled the heat between them a bit, but the tension in the room was still palpable. He cleared his throat and addressed Sonny, his voice slightly strained as he tried to keep it together.

"Yeah...w-what's the issue with the witness?"

She could hardly stand to be in the room anymore. She was having a hard time processing how an innocent conversation turned so hot so quickly. Rafael had never expressed that kind of feeling with her. They had never gotten that close before. Sure, they faintly flirted, but never so outright before. She was overwhelmed, and now she felt like she needed some air.

“Sonny, you finish up here,” She said, her voice a bit shaky from the adrenaline. “I’m…I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Sonny's eyes flicked between Barba and the detective, sensing that there was more going on than he was aware of. He was puzzled by her shaky voice, and something about the tension in the room felt odd, but he didn’t have time to question it. As the detective made her way out of the room, Rafael's gaze followed her, a mixture of disappointment and concern etched on his face as she left.

Rafael had never shared that kind of moment with her. To be honest, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. Sure, he liked her and favored her, but he had never made a move on her before. But in all fairness, she had never reciprocated quite like that.

Rafael couldn’t deny that the moment with her had been explosive, a spark igniting between them that he hadn’t expected. He had always liked her, but this was a whole different level of attraction. Her response to him had triggered a deep, intense desire that he couldn’t ignore. As Sonny continued to talk, Rafael struggled to focus on the conversation, his mind going back to the moment they had shared just moments before.

He just wanted to help Sonny and get him out of his office so he could handle this. But of course, Sonny always needed to know everything.

“Is…everything alright between you and her, Counselor?”

Rafael flinched, snapped out of his thoughts by Sonny's question. He blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat, trying to hide his preoccupation.

"Yeah, everything's just fine, Carisi," he said, his tone a little guarded. "Why do you ask?"

“I’ve never seen her run out like that. Especially when you’re around,” Sonny remarked.

Rafael shifted uneasily in his chair as he sat down, the observation not being lost on him. He tried to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

"I suppose she just had something to take care of. She seemed… in a hurry." He said, his words sounding unconvincing even to him.

Sonny didn’t believe him. He knew his partner, and he could tell when someone was lying. Something had happened in this office before he came in.

Rafael realized that Sonny wasn’t buying his response, and he silently cursed himself for not being more convincing. The air in the room felt heavy, and he knew he had to change the subject or risk further questioning.

"Is there anything else you needed to discuss regarding the case, Detective Carisi?" Rafael asked, trying to sound as impassive as possible.

Sonny caught the way Rafael changed the subject. He wasn’t getting anything from Rafael, so he decided to try his partner, who was downstairs waiting for him.

“No...alright…” Sonny said. “We’ll…we’ll be in touch.”

Rafael nodded, a slight look of relief on his face as Sonny seemed to accept the change in topic. As Sonny turned to leave, Rafael couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry about what might happen once he spoke to the detective.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but his mind was still buzzing from the encounter that had just taken place, and the uncertainty of what would happen next gnawed at him. Sonny wasted no time getting to the elevator, taking it to the ground floor. Sure enough, she was standing just outside on the sidewalk, her hand resting over her chest as she took slow deep breaths of the cold New York air.

She let the cold air of New York City fill her lungs, the chill helping to clear her mind. She tried to steady her rapid heartbeat, still shaken by the intensity of the moment she and Rafael had shared. The thought of what might have happened if Sonny hadn’t walked in sent a shudder down her spine. What was she thinking?

She was so distracted by her thoughts that she didn’t notice Sonny approaching until he was standing beside her.

“Sonny.” She nearly gasped, her heart lurching in surprise.

Sonny chuckled at her reaction and raised an eyebrow, a sly smile on his face.

"Whoa, easy there. You almost jumped out of your skin." he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m sorry, you scared me.” She sighed. “Are you ready to go?” She gestured toward the SVU car they had taken.

Sonny nodded, and as they headed toward the car, he shot her a sideways glance, curious about what had just transpired upstairs.

He wasn’t a detective for nothing, and he could sense that there was more to the story. Something was off, especially given her demeanor and the flushed look on her face.

She slid into the passenger seat, feeling a bit less shaky now that she had a few minutes to calm down. Her mind was still reeling, but she didn’t feel like she was going to pass out anymore.

Sonny walked around the car and got behind the wheel, his gaze flickering to her every now and then. As they started driving, he decided to go for it and ask the question that had been on his mind since he walked in on his partner and the Counselor.

"So, what was that all about? You left his office looking like you’d seen a ghost." He said.

She took a subtle deep breath, trying to center herself for a round of questioning that was no doubt coming.

“It was nothing really,” She responded as coolly as possible. “I’m just tired, I think. I just needed a second to gather myself.”

Sonny gave her a skeptical look, her response only adding to his suspicion. She was obviously trying to brush it off, but he was not convinced.

"Come on. You know I wasn’t born yesterday," he said, his tone laced with mild irritation. "Something happened up there."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” She said, reaching for her phone that vibrated in her pocket.

As she checked her phone, Sonny gave her a knowing look. He could sense that she was dodging the question, and it only fueled his suspicion further.

"Oh, really? Then why won’t you look me in the eye?" he asked, his voice a bit challenging now. "Who’s sending you text messages, huh? The Counselor?”

Her heart dropped, because despite the fact that Sonny’s question was a joke — he was right. She stared at the text message that had just come in from Rafael.

A sly smile crept onto Sonny's face as he spotted the change in her expression, a clear indication that he hit a sore spot.

"Bingo," he said, his tone dripping with smugness. "That’s what I thought. What did he say?"

Sonny glanced at her, his curiosity piqued. He could tell she was reading a text message, but he couldn’t see what it said.

"So, are you planning to share that text with me, or are you just going to keep me in suspense?" he said, his voice filled with playful annoyance.

She didn't even really mean to, but she read the text out loud for herself and Sonny to hear.

Call me when you can. Please.

Sonny raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face. He couldn’t help but feel a little amused by the situation.

"‘Please?’" he repeated, a hint of mockery in his voice. "Sounds like the counselor is desperate to talk to you."

Sonny had her cornered, and she knew it. There was no getting anything past Sonny, especially since they worked so closely every single day.

“Sonny..." She whined, knowing he was more on to her than she realized.

Sonny chuckled at her response, thoroughly enjoying the teasing. He knew he had her now.

"Come on," he said, feigning innocence. "Don’t sound so surprised. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching."

“Now I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” She huffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sonny took his eyes off the road for a moment to shoot her a sidelong glance, a knowing smile on his lips.

"Oh, please. You really think you’re discreet?" he said. "The tension between you two is so thick, a blind man could see it."

She rubbed her eyes stressfully, unsure of how to respond to Sonny, and even more unsure of how to proceed with Rafael. Seeing her stressed out, Sonny’s playful tone softened slightly. While he enjoyed teasing her, he could see that the situation was weighing on her.

"Hey, relax," he said, throwing her a gentle smile. "It’s just me, alright? You can talk to me, you know?"

“No, I can’t…” She sighed. “Not about this.”

Sonny’s smile faded slightly at her response. He could tell that whatever had happened in Rafael’s office was more serious than he initially thought. It wasn’t just some harmless flirtation between her and the district attorney. He cleared his throat and spoke with a more serious tone now.

"Why not? Come on. You and I have been friends for a long time, haven’t we? You can trust me."

“I trust you,” She said. “It’s not that, it’s just…complicated.”

Sonny furrowed his brow, his interest piqued even further. The way she said ‘complicated’ made it clear that there was more to this than he initially thought. He knew there was something she was holding back, but he wasn’t going to let it go that easily.

"Complicated, huh? In what way?" he asked, his voice calm but filled with genuine curiosity.

At this point, she knew Sonny wasn’t going to let this go. Sonny could keep a secret better than anyone, so she figured she might as well give it up. She told him the story, leaving out a few graphic details, but she told him enough for him to get the picture.

Sonny listened intently as she spoke, his expression stoic as he absorbed the details of what had transpired between her and Rafael. He didn’t say a word as she recounted the encounter, his gaze steady on the road ahead of them.

When she finished her story, he was silent for a moment, considering everything that had been said. Then, he spoke up, keeping his voice neutral.

"So, let me get this straight. You and the Counselor got hot and heavy in his office, but things got interrupted, and now you don’t know what to do next?"

“That about sums it up,” She sighed again. “If we had gone all the way…I don’t even know. I don’t know where to go from here and I don’t know if I can ever work with him again…”

Sonny exhaled softly, his jaw tensing slightly. He hadn’t been expecting it to be that serious. He could sense the internal struggle she was having and understood her confusion. He knew it wasn’t easy, juggling personal feelings and professional responsibilities.

"Whoa, whoa. Hold on," he said, trying to get a grip on the situation. "First of all, it didn’t go that far. Nothing…happened, right?"

“It was close,” She admitted. “But no. Sonny, Olivia will kill me if she finds out. She would flip if she found out I got cozy with the counselor…”

Sonny nodded slowly, processing her words. The fact that she was worried about Olivia’s reaction spoke volumes about how seriously she was taking this. He respected her devotion to the job, and he knew how highly her superiors thought of her.

"Okay, first of all, Olivia’s not going to ‘kill’ you. Besides, this isn’t exactly the first time a relationship has happened between coworkers."

“Yeah, but it’s different. It’s…me. You know how she is with me. I’m the youngest on the squad,” She took a deep breath. “If she knew Rafael made a move on me…”

Sonny could see the weight of the situation pressing heavily on her. He understood her concerns.

"I get that you don’t want to disappoint her," he said in a reassuring tone. "The thing is, this whole thing with Barba…you didn’t exactly pursue him, right? He’s the one who made a move. And as far as I can tell, it sounds like it was completely out of the blue for you."

“It…wasn’t really out of the blue,” She confessed. “I mean, I didn’t go in there expecting what happened but…like you said we’re pretty…flirtatious. And I didn’t push him away.”

Sonny chuckled slightly at her confirmation that she hadn’t exactly shut down whatever had been going on between her and the Counselor. He knew they’d had a spark.

“So, let me get this straight: you and Barba have been flirty with each other for a while, and eventually, things got heated in his office. Is that about right?”

Sonny nodded when she confirmed it, the situation starting to make more sense to him now.

"And now you don’t know what to do because you’re worried about your job, your relationship with Olivia, and whatever might happen next with Barba?”

“Right,” She replied. “It happened so fast…I don’t know how I got here.”

Sonny chuckled softly as he listened to her concerns.

"You got here, because you and Barba have chemistry," he said bluntly. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

“I don’t know what to do about it,” She read the text from Barba again. “How do you even move forward from something like this?”

Sonny shot her a sympathetic glance, understanding her anxiety.

"Hey, it sounds like you’re feeling a bit out of your comfort zone here, and that’s alright." He said reassuringly. "You’re usually more reserved, and this situation’s a bit more intense than you’re used to. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It could mean that something about Barba really does it for you."

“Yeah, I could’ve told you that. I guess I need to respond,” She stared at her phone. "He wants me to call him later. So he will probably reject me and tell me it was a mistake and it never should’ve happened and then things will be awkward and then I’ll have to leave SVU and then I’m back to making traffic stops-“

Sonny reached over and grabbed her arm firmly, stopping her mid-rant. He chuckled slightly at her panicked ramblings.

"Slow down there," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Take a deep breath. You're getting way ahead of yourself."

“Maybe…” A smile appeared on her face without realizing it. “I’ll just…tell him I’ll call him when I can.”

Sonny chuckled along with her, enjoying the lighter tone of the conversation. He was glad to see that his teasing had lifted her spirits, at least a little bit.

"Hey, you never know," He said with a shrug and a smirk. "Stranger things have happened. Maybe Barba’s completely smitten with you and can’t wait to see you again."

“Alright, alright…” She replied. “One step at a time. Let’s finish this workday.”

Sonny chuckled at her response, sensing her determination to get through the last couple hours of their long workday and not let the situation with Barba consume her. He nodded in agreement.

"You got it," he said, his tone back to business. "I've got your back, no matter what happens next."

___

They returned to the precinct, tying up their loose ends for the day so they could get the day finished. She tried to put Rafael in the back of her mind. She just needed to get through her shift and then go from there. She hoped she would feel better once she and Rafael talked, no matter what the outcome was.

Sonny shot a few glances at her, sensing her attempt to keep her mind off the situation with the Counselor. He knew she was struggling to focus on work when her mind was preoccupied.

As the day came to an end, Sonny casually looked down at his watch and spoke up.

"You know, we're just about done for the day. You…uh…have plans for the rest of the night?"

She gave him a look.

“I’m going to call him as soon as I leave,” She said. “If he’s still at his office, I might swing by.”

Sonny gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

"You're gonna handle this, one way or another." he said, his voice firm and steady.

“Okay,” She nodded. “I’ll text you when it’s over.”

Sonny waved her goodbye, and she didn't waste any time getting out of the precinct. She dialed Rafael's number on the way out of the building.

The phone rang a few times before the familiar voice of Rafael Barba answered on the other end.

“Hey.” His tone was calm and composed.

“Counselor.” She greeted as calmly as she could.

There was a hint of surprise and relief in Rafael's voice as he recognized her on the other end of the line. He had been hoping she would call.

"I wasn’t sure if you’d call." He said plainly.

“Of course I did,” She let out a silent sigh. “Are you…still at your office?”

There was a slight pause before Rafael responded, the anticipation heavy in his voice.

"Yes," he replied. "Do you…want to come by?"

Her heart fluttered, there really was no turning back.

“Yeah, I figured I would come by so…we could talk. I can be there in 20 minutes…”

They sorted out the details before the call ended, and she knew this was going to either be a pleasant or brutal talk. She knew she might be losing one of her best friends by the end of the night. She had never felt more unsure, but she couldn't even deny that maybe she was curious to see how this developed...if it developed at all.

Her mind raced as she made her way to Rafael's office. She thought of every possible outcome in this scenario...the best case, the worst case, and everything in between. She felt the knot of anxiety in her stomach getting heavier by the minute. She laid eyes on her destination and knew it was now or ever. She needed to compose herself and pull it together. She wanted to walk out of this situation with him still an important part of her life.

The building was closed down for the night, all the offices dark and closed...except for his. It was now or never. If there was ever a moment where she felt like she was about to seal her fate...it was right now.

She took the elevator to the floor of his office, her brain actively controlling her breathing to be as calm and slow as possible. Her heart was pounding away, and she wasn't sure if it was the nerves or the knowledge of seeing him again after what had happened.

His office door was closed, but a glow of light was shining from behind the closed blinds on his windows and under the door. She gave a light knock on the door, a slow exhale escaping her as she waited for him to answer.

She heard some shuffling from behind the door, knowing he was undoubtedly trying to quickly straighten up his desk before he allowed her inside. A few seconds passed before he opened the door -- his tired eyes meeting hers with the same look of anxiety and curiosity of what was about to happen. There was no turning back now, and they both felt like they were prepared.

But little did they know, their night was about to get far more interesting than they planned for.

—

Part 2 !

[worlds-we-write]

The Librarian's Secret

pairing: Jackson!joel miller x librarian!reader

summary: You run Jackson’s quiet little library, and Joel Miller keeps showing up asking for books he doesn’t read—because what he really wants is you.

Tags: Joel Miller x Reader, Jackson era, librarian reader, secret romance, slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, smut, explicit content, dirty talk, possessive Joel, praise kink, rough sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, after-hours sex, emotional intimacy, library setting, hidden relationship.

MDNI, 18+ only

My Masterlist

You weren't sure when Joel Miller became your favorite patron, but somewhere between quiet afternoons and dog-eared pages, he did.

Joel started visiting the tiny Jackson library every Thursday afternoon, always around the same time—three o'clock. At first, he was all gruff nods and minimal conversation, his voice a comforting rasp in the library’s quiet. He'd ask for recommendations, something good, something he “hadn't read yet.” But you quickly realized Joel wasn't actually reading any of the books he checked out. Still, you played along.

"Try this one," you'd suggest gently, handing him novels heavy with quiet longing, subtle heartbreak, or tender reunions. Each time, Joel accepted the book from your hands, his fingers brushing yours just a fraction longer than necessary. You always pretended you didn't notice, but the warmth of his touch lingered long after he'd gone.

He returned the books each week with the same straight face and a quiet “thanks.” Sometimes the spines looked untouched, sometimes you spotted a folded corner, but somehow, you knew it wasn’t the story he cared about. Not the one on the pages, anyway.

Months passed this way, a dance of pretend reading and lingering touches, of quiet, unspoken tension building steadily beneath the surface. You told yourself he was just a lonely man seeking routine. But you noticed how his gaze would follow you as you shelved returns, how his hand hovered near yours when you handed him a new title. It was all just beneath the surface, but it was there. And it made your heart ache in the best way.

Eventually, curiosity—and maybe courage—got the best of you.

Joel stood by the desk one Thursday, eyes scanning titles he'd never choose. His hair was slightly mussed, his shirt soft and faded from work. You watched him carefully, pulse quickening as you decided today would be the day you'd finally ask.

“You know,” you began softly, leaning forward on your elbows, "I don't think you've read a single book I've ever given you."

Joel paused, fingers brushing the worn spine of an old western. He straightened slowly, turning fully toward you, dark eyes unreadable. “You sayin’ I’m wastin’ your time?”

You shook your head gently, lips curving into a teasing smile. “Not exactly. But I want to know why you keep coming back.”

Joel exhaled slowly, running a rough hand through salt-and-pepper curls. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken truth, until finally, Joel's eyes softened. “I come here for you,” he admitted quietly, voice like a confession. “Not the books.”

Your breath caught, heart fluttering in your chest. “Oh.”

He stepped closer, movements deliberate, watching your face carefully. You didn't move away—in fact, you found yourself leaning into the warmth radiating from his broad frame.

“That okay with you?” His voice was cautious, nearly a whisper, like he was sharing something delicate and fragile.

“More than okay,” you whispered back.

From that day on, everything shifted. It started with a shared smile when he walked in, your fingers brushing intentionally instead of by accident. Then came the whispers behind shelves, words that meant everything and nothing: I missed you. You smell good today. You been thinkin’ about me?

It didn’t take long for those words to become stolen kisses. Quick at first, hesitant. The kind that left your lips tingling and your chest aching. You pressed him into the stacks one evening, breathless and bold, and he kissed you back like he was starving.

You learned the little things fast—how he liked to rest his hand at the small of your back, how his thumb would stroke the side of your neck when he kissed you. How he muttered your name like a prayer, or a curse, depending on how desperate the moment was.

But the secrecy was a weight. You kept your distance when others were around, careful not to let eyes linger too long, not to smile too wide. Joel was a private man, and you respected that. Still, the ache in your chest grew every time he left the library with nothing more than a nod.

The tension built like a storm cloud. You felt it in the way his touches lingered, how his gaze dropped to your mouth and stayed there. How his jaw flexed when you laughed too hard at something another man said. The air between you sparked every time he came near, but it was never enough.

Until one night, it was.

You’d stayed late to reorganize the reference section. Joel showed up after hours, said he forgot to return a book. He didn’t have one in his hands.

“Lock the door,” he murmured, voice low, rough with something he’d clearly been holding back.

You did. You barely had time to turn before he was on you—his hands gripping your hips, his mouth crashing into yours like a wave breaking on the shore. There was nothing hesitant now. This was hunger, months of it, poured into every movement.

Joel guided you back into the reading room, moonlight slicing through the tall windows, throwing shadows across the shelves. It was quiet except for your breathing, the rustle of clothes, the hurried click of buttons and zippers.

“You sure?” he asked, even then, his forehead pressed to yours.

“Joel,” you breathed, tugging at his shirt. “I need you.”

He groaned, deep and desperate, and the rest unraveled quickly.

Clothes fell away like petals, slow and reverent. Joel laid you down on the rug near the fireplace, his eyes raking over your body like he was memorizing it.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, calloused hands skimming your sides. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

He kissed you everywhere—your throat, your chest, your belly—like he was worshipping, not just wanting. When his mouth found your core, you gasped, hips lifting toward him.

He took his time, fingers gripping your thighs, tongue working you until you were writhing. You came apart with a cry, your fingers tangled in his hair, your body shaking beneath him.

Joel didn’t stop. He kissed his way back up, lips slick with your pleasure, whispering your name like he needed it to breathe.

When he finally pushed inside you, it felt like something bigger than sex. Like trust. Like surrender.

His rhythm was slow at first, controlled. Every thrust deliberate, every kiss a promise. But the need built fast, urgency breaking through his restraint.

You met him stroke for stroke, hands clutching his back, heels digging into the floor. He growled your name as he buried himself deep, his body trembling against yours.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice rough and raw. “I’ve got you.”

But Joel didn’t stop there.

He rolled his hips with more force, deeper now, until you cried out again, nails scratching along his shoulders. One of his hands slipped between your bodies, finding your clit, circling it in tight, practiced motions.

“You gonna come again for me?” he rasped. “Wanna feel you come while I’m inside you.”

“Joel—” You gasped, breath broken and high. “I’m so close—”

“That’s it, baby,” he said through gritted teeth. “Let me feel it. Been waitin’ so long for this. So fuckin’ long. Always thinkin’ about how sweet this pussy would feel. Didn’t disappoint.”

Your orgasm hit harder the second time, more intense, your body clenching around him, thighs shaking. Joel swore under his breath, hips stuttering as he tried to hold himself back.

But you weren’t done. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper.

“Harder,” you whispered, voice gone hoarse. “I want all of you.”

He gave it to you.

He braced himself over you, driving into you hard and fast now, the room echoing with the sounds of skin meeting skin, of your moans and his breathless curses. Sweat slicked his back, and his lips never stopped—kissing your jaw, your collarbone, the corner of your mouth.

“Fuck, baby, you take me so good,” he growled into your ear. “So tight, like you were made for me. This what you think about in here when you’re all alone? Bein’ spread out on this floor, takin’ my cock?”

You whimpered, your body jerking with each hard thrust. “Yes. God, yes, Joel—always.”

“You’re mine now,” he muttered, voice dark and possessive. “You understand me? No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets this sweet little cunt.”

“Yours,” you gasped, overwhelmed. “I’m yours.”

“You bet your ass you are.”

You flipped suddenly, rolling him onto his back with a breathless laugh, straddling him. Joel’s eyes widened slightly in surprise but darkened with hunger.

“Fuck, look at you,” he said, his voice thick with awe. “You’re a goddamn dream. Ridin’ me like you were made for it.”

You sank down onto him slowly, savoring the stretch, watching his face twist in pleasure.

“Ride me,” he growled. “Show me how bad you want it. Let me see those tits bounce while you fuck yourself on my cock.”

You moved with purpose, rocking your hips, leaning forward so your chest pressed to his, your lips brushing his ear. “You think about this while you’re pretendin’ to read?”

“All the fuckin’ time,” Joel hissed. “Think about you bent over that desk. On your knees in the stacks. Cryin’ and beggin’ for my cock.”

You clenched around him at his words, crying out again.

“You like it when I talk like that?” he asked, voice smug and breathless.

You nodded, too far gone to answer properly. He sat up, wrapped his arms tight around your waist, and fucked up into you with power.

“Joel—Joel—I’m gonna—”

“Come, baby. Come on my cock. That’s it, you’re so good—so fuckin’ good—makin’ a mess all over me. I wanna feel you soak me, darlin’.”

The orgasm ripped through you, and this time you screamed his name, body shaking uncontrollably. Joel came with you, burying his face in your neck, groaning loudly as he pulsed deep inside you.

He held you through it, his hand splayed across your back, keeping you pressed tight to him. Still buried inside, still panting.

“You ruin me,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to your temple. “Don’t want anyone else. Just you, sweetheart.”

“Good,” you whispered back, tracing patterns into his skin. “Cause I’m not lettin’ you go.”

“Worth waitin’ for,” he murmured into your hair.

You smiled against his skin. “Definitely.”

The library stayed your secret. The books Joel never read became symbols of something far more important: a love story written between the lines, hidden in quiet corners, unfolding one Thursday at a time.

And now, when he asked for a recommendation, he didn’t mean fiction. He meant you. Every time.

AN: Joel pretending to read just to rail the librarian? Yeah, I blacked out writing this. Hope it made you feral. 💋

[ddejavvu]

Please a Mean Logan that deliberately likes leave beard/stubble burn on your body so doesn't clean shave

Beard Burn - Logan Howlett x Reader

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. mean!logan, beard burn, oral sex (f receiving), don't like don't read.

Your thighs are raw, grated nearly to the bone by Logan's rough stubble. He shaved only a day ago, but whether it's his genetic mutation or his grooming habits, he's already got a five-o'clock shadow. His facial hair is just long enough to prick at your already sensitive, thin skin. Perhaps it wouldn't be so unbearably fiery if he'd merely pressed a single kiss to your thighs, but with the way he's feasting upon your cunt, mouth opened wide and tongue venturing deep into your sex, your thighs are on fire.

Pulling on his hair is useless, but you do it anyways.

"Please- Logan, I- it hurts, I need-aah!" You cry as he presses his face into your thigh, kissing at the skin despite the way his cheeks grate against your leg only rougher, "You're-! You have to shave!"

"I like it like this." He grumbles, lips moving against your flesh, teeth nipping at an already sensitive spot that makes your leg jerk involuntarily, "You taste raw. Like you're gonna bleed. Like I'm fuckin' you down to the bone."

Despite his tongue not being buried in your pussy anymore, Logan's words send a pulse of arousal down south that elicits a moan from your lips. You watch as he licks a hot, wet stripe over the rawed skin but it doesn't hit you until you feel it that it's going to hurt.

Searing pain erupts over your thigh where Logan's tongue had just left a trail of glistening spit, and you cry out as he ducks back into your cunt, nose nudging your clit. It sets your nerves on fire, and it couples strangely with the feeling of Logan's tongue rolling expertly through your pussy as his beard continues to chafe at your inner thighs.

You're thrust into an orgasm you're not expecting- not like this. You'd have assumed that Logan's nose bumping repeatedly into your clit would have sent you over the edge, but it's really the combination of pleasure-pain-pleasure-pain that pulses through your body like a second heartbeat. It shakes you to your core, and you let it overcome your trembling limbs, achy from being held in one place for so long.

This time when you reach down and tug on Logan's hair it's towards your cunt, forcing him to smother himself in your weeping pussy as it throbs with pleasure. He's more than happy to take the plunge, messy now up to his cheekbones as you paint his face with your slick.

"I'm not shaving." He states simply, puckering his lips so that the kisses he peppers your inner thighs with are devoid of the scruff beard he refuses to shave, "Not until I make every inch of you as raw as your thighs."

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 52 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As the perfect weekend comes to a close, you start to feel anxious about the way everyone else will perceive the engagement ring on your finger. If you could just stay in your peaceful bubble with the boys, you'd be all set. But Bradley might be about to face something much worse than an unwanted opinion. 

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

From the moment you woke up on Sunday, Bradley had you melting. "Morning, Mrs. Bradshaw," he mumbled against your bare shoulder, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep. His huge, warm body was pressed against your back, and his lips were soft as a breeze touching your skin.

You bit your lip when his big hand snaked slowly around to your belly, and you whispered, "Morning, Daddy."

His lips found the shell of your ear as he chuckled, and goosebumps rippled along your skin. "If you do want to change your name to Bradshaw, then we can order you a new credit card and new checks as soon as we get married. If not, will you at least consider my last name for the baby?"

You wriggled around in his grasp until he released you so you could roll onto your other side and face him. "I want to change it," you said firmly, kissing the end of his mustache and running your fingers through his hair. "I want to match with you and Noah." You could tell he sighed in relief as you added, "And of course the baby will match with all of us."

When you rolled him onto his back, his hands were on your butt, keeping you snug against him. His smile was cocky as he said, "I feel like rewarding you for making all my dreams come true."

Then he nipped at the tops of your breasts as they were pressed against his chest. "Oh yeah?" you whispered. "How are you planning to do that?"

His dark eyes looked a little dangerous as he said, "By doing anything you ask me to."

You squeezed him inadvertently with your thighs, and he smirked. He knew he had you. He was always going to have you. But you knew what you wanted from him, and you were about to say it when you heard another voice in your bedroom doorway.

"Mommy? Daddy? I'm hungry."

Bradley groaned as you rolled off of him and pulled the covers higher. "I should have known since it's eight o'clock," he whispered, kissing your cheek and then reaching for your hand to kiss your ring. "I'll go start breakfast."

Your eyes went wide. "Don't punish the child, Bradley."

He snorted and slipped out from the covers as Skittles trotted out of her bed to join both of the boys. Your eyes raked over Bradley's body and his snug briefs as he reached for a pair of sweatpants while Noah yawned. "Let's go, Bub," he whispered, picking his son up and turning back to you. "Take your time, but also don't be too long. I think he wants edible food."

Then they were gone and you took a few minutes to sprawl out in bed and examine your engagement ring. You just got it, and already you were wondering how soon you could feasibly get a wedding band to join it on your finger. "Oh," you moaned softly, realizing Bradley might want to wear a wedding band, too. "That would be hot."

You rolled out of bed, nearly falling to the floor as you quickly pulled on some clothing, and then you were rushing to the kitchen where Noah was eating some apple slices sprinkled with cinnamon. Bradley was leaning on the counter with baseball scores open on his phone while he brewed some coffee, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind. 

"That was quick," he muttered when you made your presence known.

"Are you going to wear a ring?"

He turned to face you with a slightly confused look on his face. "Like a wedding ring?"

"Yes," you replied quickly, because somehow knowing this information was extremely urgent to you. "Are you going to wear one?"

You must have sounded more aggressive than you meant to, because he told you, "I mean, I was planning on it, yes. Is that okay?"

Then your head tipped back and you moaned softly. "Oh my god, Bradley. That's sinfully hot. All of your old man stuff and your body and your voice. And you're going to wear a wedding ring, too?"

"Well, yeah. I thought we could get matching engravings inside our rings with the wedding date and a little crown." You had to press your lips together to keep from screaming, and he had the audacity to ask you, "Are you okay, Baby?"

"No! Obviously not! I hope you realize other women will see that ring on your finger and be jealous of me." You gestured to yourself, feeling like you had perhaps finally lost it over this man. 

Bradley smirked. "They already are though. Look at you. So pretty."

You threw your hands up in the air and let them fall to your sides. "I can't really deal with you right now. Go sit with Noah." He chuckled so you added, "I'm serious. Get your coffee and go." You started to rummage around in the refrigerator so you could make pancakes with fresh whipped cream, still hardly able to believe you were both pregnant and engaged. 

When you started setting eggs and cream on the counter, Bradley reached past you for the French vanilla coffee creamer and made your coffee exactly how you liked it. He left you the mug that said Noah's Dad as he muttered, "I'll have to get you one that says Noah's Mom."

"Maybe just wait a few months and get me one with both names on it."

"I can do that."

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

Bradley thought you looked tired as the afternoon wore on. It had been an exciting few days, but playing with Noah usually seemed to give you more energy, not take it away. After the three of you colored on the driveway and went grocery shopping and stopped at the park, he suggested you and Noah both take a little afternoon nap.

"Just a short one though," you agreed. "I wanted to talk more about weddings and babies." You yawned again and followed Noah into his bedroom. Once again, Bradley was left with Skittles looking up at him expectantly. 

"Okay, fine. I'll get your leash." Soon there would be an additional pair of eyes looking at him and making him melt. It was bad enough there were already three that he was completely weak for.

He made it halfway around the block with Skittles' little bag of poop in one hand when two women in skin tight athletic apparel ran past him. They said hi in unison while he nodded at them, and then they must have paused right behind him.

He heard one of them mutter, "Big guys with little dogs do things to me."

"Ask him out," said the other woman. "I don't see a ring."

Bradley groaned softly as he tugged on Skittles' leash while she sniffed a cactus growing next to the sidewalk. You and he had literally had a conversation about rings this morning, and now it was too late for him to make a quick getaway without picking up his dog and sprinting down the block. Perhaps he was the one who really needed to be wearing a ring this whole time, not you.

"Hey," the first woman said, and he turned around a little sheepishly. "Your dog is literally so adorable. What's her name?"

He didn't know what he was expecting as he said, "Skittles," but it wasn't for both women to look at him like they were on the verge of getting undressed on the sidewalk. 

"Oh my god, I'm obsessed with her! Hi, Skittles." Bradley swallowed hard and took a deep breath, opening his mouth to just end this thing, but she beat him to it as she knelt down to pet the dog. She looked up at him and said, "We're almost done with our run, and I'd absolutely love to take you out for some coffee if you're free."

All he could picture were the coffee cups he always brought home to you with Princess scribbled on the side. When he started to shake his head, she stood from the sidewalk. "I'm engaged," he replied. "But thanks for the offer."

Both women were pouting when he turned away, and one of them said, "Should have known," before they were on their way again. Bradley was immediately filled with that same feeling he had after he forced himself to go to the app dates. He just wanted to be back home where you were. Where everything felt easier. Where he could just be himself without trying so hard. 

"Come on," he told Skittles, and she looked up at him with her tongue peeking out and started to trot down the sidewalk next to him.

When they got home, the sun was getting lower in the sky, and the house was silent. His bedroom was empty, so he doubled back to Noah's room. Sure enough, you were snuggled up with him, sound asleep, just like Friday night. He could have happily watched this scene for the rest of the night. He kind of wanted to squeeze himself into the twin bed, too. Instead he started working on chores and folding laundry. 

It wasn't too much longer before you woke up and appeared in the kitchen with Noah who was whining about being hungry again. You still looked tired, but you also had a determined expression on your face. You shot Bradley a coy smile over your shoulder as you made grilled cheese sandwiches. 

"What's that look for?" he asked as you sat down with the food.

"Well, first of all, thanks for letting me nap," you said, kissing his cheek. "I don't know why I'm so tired today. Maybe it's from all the excitement of the weekend, or maybe it's a pregnancy symptom?"

Bradley's face lit up. "Both options are good. We can go to bed early tonight."

"Yeah... about that. You know how you wanted to reward me? And give me whatever I asked for?"

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

A few hours later, you were honestly still pretty tired, but Bradley was on his knees in front of you on the bedroom floor, looking up at you with his addicting eyes. You were wearing just your paper crown and your underwear, and he was already naked and ready. But you wanted him to beg for you, and he knew exactly what to do.

His hands and lips were soft on your sides and your belly, and his cock was hard. "Please, Baby," he whispered as he ran the tip of his nose up along your ribs. "You're perfect."

You pushed your fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots until he moaned. As his hands slid around to your lower back, you said, "Tell me what you want, and I'll decide if you can have it."

Now his lips were frantic against your body, his kisses growing in need as his breathing got more rapid. "I want you," he gasped. "I want to fuck my Princess. I want to love you. Please."

You yanked on his hair so he was looking up at you. "I only fuck knights. And only the one I'm engaged to."

Bradley groaned and kissed your belly as he tugged down your underwear. "Baby, I'm so hard. Please."

You smirked, clearly just as turned on as he was, but keeping it together. "You better be good for me."

He scrambled to his feet and onto the bed, and you straddled his hips. He was poking you with his length, but you took his hands in yours and placed them on your breasts. You closed your eyes and listened to that gorgeous voice whisper please a dozen times as his rough hands worked their magic. His cock was eager, tapping against your thigh with each wave of his arousal. Finally you leaned down and kissed his lips softly.

"Okay, Daddy."

His stamina was commendable, as always. You rode him through two orgasms as he hit the sweet spot inside of you while he played with your clit. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were wide as he watched you come for him. And then he had to beg again. 

"Please. Let me finish." But you shook your head and watched him pant. You weren't done yet. You needed another minute. "Please? Please? Baby, I'm begging."

His hands were tight on your thighs as you rolled your hips. "I'm not done yet. You have to wait."

The veins in his neck looked delicious, so you leaned down and licked them. The change in position had him moaning your name, so you whispered next to his ear, "You can come, Daddy." 

You almost screamed when his hips jerked up, his cock pushed so deep inside you. He was babbling unintelligibly about a wedding and the baby as he bucked beneath you, filling you up until his movements finally slowed. His face was slick with sweat as you pushed his hair back from his forehead, and you were delighted as he kept begging.

"Stay with me forever, Princess? Please?"

You fell asleep with your body wrapped around him.

Monday morning hit you like a ton of bricks. You were exhausted and overwhelmed from the weekend, and you realized when you were in the shower that you'd probably have to see Casey when you dropped Noah off. The boys were eating bowls of cereal when you finally made it into the kitchen. Bradley had your coffee ready, and you briefly considered whether or not you should be drinking so much caffeine. Your movements stilled as you remembered all of the champagne you drank recently. 

"You okay?" Bradley asked from his spot at the table. He'd been saying good morning, but you hadn't responded at all.

"Yeah. Just thinking about calling my doctor later."

He was smiling when you looked at him. "Great idea."

You needed to make a lot of changes, and you were starting to feel overwhelmed again. "Will you come to daycare dropoff with us this morning?" you blurted out.

You watched him check the time on the oven clock before he met your eyes again. It sounded so stupid; you and he worked out the schedule you had so that both of you weren't backtracking all over the city. He would be cutting it close to get to work on time, but he said, "Sure. I'll follow you there and then head to base."

"Okay, thank you," you replied, kissing the top of his head. "We'll leave soon."

"Not until you eat something." He pushed the box of cereal in your direction and finished getting Noah ready while you ate. The food made you feel a little better, but your engagement ring felt like it weighed a ton on your finger. You were going to get bombarded with questions and comments all day long, and you wished you could just stay home with Bradley and extend the perfect weekend forever. 

But soon enough, you had Noah in your backseat, and you were heading for daycare in your scrubs. You had him out of his carseat by the time the Bronco coasted into the spot next to yours, and Noah was reaching for Bradley with his free hand. At least he seemed delighted that both of you were here with him.

Bradley held the door open and kissed your cheek when you walked past. "I've gotta run in a minute," he reminded you, but that wasn't going to be a problem. You didn't want to be here for more than a minute yourself, because you could already feel Casey's gaze on your body as the three of you entered the building. 

"Hi!" she called out, clearly looking at only Bradley as she smiled brightly. "Did you have a nice weekend?"

"The best," he replied with a smirk in your direction as he wrapped his arm around your waist. 

Then you noticed the colorful prisms bouncing off the wall next to Casey as you stood in the sunlight shining in through the door. Your ring was massive and glittery and impossible to hide, not that you really wanted to. But you could tell second that her gaze landed on your hand, and a grimace settled on her face.

Bradley didn't seem to notice the showdown of sorts as he kissed your cheek before kneeling in front of Noah to tell him to have a good day. Casey looked at you with her sour expression, and you tried your best to keep yourself neutral, unsure whether you wanted to laugh or scream.

"Wow," she finally said. "That's a neat ring."

You nodded, and now you couldn't stop the grin that formed on your lips. It wasn't neat. It was perfect. It was stunning. You were about to say something when Bradley scooped Noah up in a hug and casually said, "Yeah, we're getting married."

Casey nodded, a jerky motion as she pressed her lips together, and then Noah turned and looked at her as he said, "And I'm going to be a big brother!"

"Noah!" you gasped as Bradley's eyes went wide. All of the baby talk during the weekend must have made an impression. You and Bradley had been talking openly about what was going on, and Noah must have picked up on things. He probably absorbed all of the information, including when you told Bradley that he'd be an amazing big brother. 

"Yeah, you are, Bub," Bradley said with a laugh before he looked at you. "Well, that cat's out of the bag, I guess," he whispered.

"We were not at all discreet when we discussed things in front of him," you replied softly, happy that he was smiling about it.

"That's... neat," Casey repeated, looking like she just ate a lemon. "Wow." She handed Bradley the clipboard while she glared at you, and you avoided her by giving Noah a kiss.

"I'll pick you up later," you promised him, and then he was walking back into the classroom with Casey who had her nose in the air. 

Bradley was checking the time again. "I need to go, Princess. You good?"

"Yes," you replied, watching Noah's little backpack disappear from view. "I'll see you at home tonight."

He grabbed you up and kissed you, giving a bit of a show to the family who just walked in to drop their child off. "I love you," he rasped before running out the door.

You also disappeared before Casey could return, and of course, it was a typically busy Monday at work. But Dr. Kelly gasped when she saw your ring, and the other nurses squealed when you told them Bradley proposed. Pretty soon you'd have to let them know you were pregnant, too, but since Noah wasn't here to blow your cover, you didn't mention it yet. You did however schedule an appointment with your own doctor. 

You got to assist with stitches, clean up a scraped leg while a little girl cried, and fend off a single dad who was blatantly looking at your boobs while he asked you out. Then you got to clean up the floor after a kid peed in the first exam room. You were just bracing yourself for a disaster when Dr. Kelly called you into room two where a boy had bite marks on his arm. "Happened at daycare," she told you, and you got the antiseptic ready.

If that kind of thing ever happened to Noah, you weren't sure how you'd be able to stay calm. Then you thought about the baby, and it threw you for a loop. You felt so protective of both of them already. You still had the scars on your arm from when you fell running away from Meredith. 

So you cleaned up his arm while you sang Noah's favorite song about dinosaurs, taking the time to be careful around the bruising. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, but he sat still for you. Then you let him have as many stickers as he wanted before he left.

You were exhausted and on the verge of tears when you left in your car at five o'clock. You should have known you'd be overwhelmed today, and you needed to get home and spend the night with Noah and Bradley like your sanity depended on it. Traffic was heavy, but when you finally made it back to the daycare, you rushed inside to get it over with.

Of course it was just you and Casey. She set the clipboard down on the edge of the counter but made no move to get Noah for you as you signed your name. Then a malicious looking smile found her lips. "He only proposed because you're pregnant. You know that, right?"

You already knew that's what people were going to assume. You even told Bradley as much. Casey must have been stewing over that information all day long, ready to try to make you feel bad about yourself. It didn't even matter, because you already knew the truth, but in that moment, you felt so damn petty. 

"Bradley actually proposed before he knew I was pregnant, and it was by no means an accident. But nice try, Casey. Now, would you mind doing your job and getting Noah for me? I can't believe I have to remind you what your job entails so frequently."

Her smile turned to a scowl, and you were ready to go a few rounds with her if needed as you slid the clipboard toward her again. You had the upper hand here no matter what, because the Bradshaws were all yours. But she didn't respond, rather she turned away from you and went inside the classroom to get Noah. The idea of knocking all of her neatly organized paperwork to the floor crossed your mind, but you decided to be an adult and just wait for Noah. You were almost immediately awarded with the sweetness only he could bring to your day.

"Mommy!" he called out, running across the small lobby to get to you. "I painted Skittles, but I made her green and yellow!"

"Show me," you said as you bent to pick him up, and then he was holding out his picture as you kissed his cheek. "She's stunning, sweet Noah. I love her."

"We can hang it up at home. On the fridge."

You nodded and carried him outside without looking at Casey. She could eat dirt for all you cared. "The refrigerator is looking really full of your artwork these days, but I'm sure we can squeeze it in. Now, do you want ants on logs or fancy apple snails with your dinner?"

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

"Well, I fucking did it," Nat said with an exasperated sigh when Bradley walked across the tarmac with her.

"Did what?" he asked, already slightly concerned about where this conversation might be headed.

She flapped her hands in the air in front of herself like that was supposed to mean something. "With Javy! I turned it from friends with bennies into a thing."

"A thing?" he asked, getting more confused by the moment. "What kind of thing?"

"A relationship!" she hissed before clapping her hand over her mouth like she'd said a dirty word.

"Oh," he replied with a laugh. "You're dating him? Like actually dating him? Is this your first boyfriend?" She kicked him in the shin. "Fuck!"

"Come on, Bradley! You know this is a big deal for me! Even admitting to him that I like him made me feel filthy."

"Jesus," he groaned, taking a step to the side to get further away from her as he walked. "I literally can't fathom what he sees in you."

She glared at him. "I could say the same damn thing about your sweet girlfriend. She could have guys eating out of her hand, but she somehow finds you charming?"

Bradley didn't want to say it, but you probably technically found Noah charming. And if last night's activities were any indication, you definitely did have Bradley eating out of your hand. All you had to do was just mention you wanted him to beg for you, and he was on his knees. He'd been that way since the beginning. He had no problem giving you control when you let him know that's how you wanted the evening to go.

"She's not my girlfriend anymore," he replied, watching her reaction from the corner of his eye. 

His best friend dropped her helmet and almost tripped over it as she reached out to wrap her hand around his forearm. She looked devastated as she softly said, "Oh my god, Bradley. She dumped you?"

His jaw dropped open as he came to a stop, and he glared at her. "Seriously, Nat? That's where your mind went? I proposed!"

Her eyes went wide. "She said yes? You're engaged?"

"Yes!" he insisted with his hands on his hips. "You're the worst."

But she didn't even hear him, because now she was screeching and stepping on his feet as she hugged him. "I'm so happy for you! That was quick, but holy shit, it just makes sense! Do I get to collect a finder's fee?"

When she kissed his cheek he said, "All you did was set me up on a bunch of miserable dates while she babysat Noah."

"Exactly! Mutual pining!" she replied with a laugh. "None of this would have happened if I didn't put the app on your phone, so you're welcome."

He tried to disentangle her from his arms so he could pull up the photo he took of the ring when he heard Maverick clear his throat. When he looked at his godfather, he didn't seem thrilled, and Bradley's stomach lurched when he said, "Rooster. We need to talk."

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

Okay, well Casey is the worst. And Skittles is a chick magnet, but we already knew that would be the case. Now let's see if we can get to a wedding and a baby before disaster strikes. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 53

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

[kookieskookiejar]

A Nightwing x Starfire (reader) AU

Synopsis:

Jungkook said goodbye to you years ago when the two of you were just on the cusp of adulthood, he swore he'd never love again if it wasn't you, but fate gives him another chance when you return to earth, he just didn't imagine that it'd feel like there's galaxies between the both of you despite being right next to you.

Warnings under the cut!

Warnings: extreme levels of down badism, brief pining, fluff, smut, unprotected sxx, manhandling. Jungkook calls reader the nickname, Star multiple times.

Jungkook feels alive as he speeds down the streets of Gotham at nearly midnight on his bike, the wind blowing past his face is an exhilaration to him, still within the speed limit, for now, while there's yet to have any crime that he needs to tackle.

Gotham is quiet at this time, crime rate has been driving people away from staying out in the streets after 10pm, sometimes people would choose to linger at busier streets where police are deployed to keep crime at bay, unfortunately for Jungkook, that means he needs to pick up the slack, there never seem to be enough troops, the number of officers decreasing by the year as crimes rates increase, no one wants to risk their life, Jungkook understands, that's what the bat family and the titans are for, as long as his families stand, then Gotham would never end up in the clutches of injustice.

Suddenly, Jungkook picks up a scream at his 9 o'clock, immediately revving his bike to go faster, his head scanning left right and up down to look for the source of the distress.

When he finally locates suspicious sounds coming from an alleyway after several turns, he sees a faint neon green glow ascending into the sky.

Jungkook gets off his bike to inspect the opening of the alleyway, a woman leaves the dark alley with a huff, swinging her handbag back onto her shoulder. Jungkook waits till she leaves before he goes into the alleyway.

A man in a full black attire comes into view, tied up with his own jacket, cursing something about some glow stick bitch.

“Who tied you up?” Jungkook asks while texting Commissioner Gordon with his burner phone to send someone over.

“Some bitch with green powers,” the man says with a huff, having given up escaping at this point, putting up a fight with Nightwing would be suicidal.

“You're sure? Red hair?”

“Didn't see, too dark,” he mutters, squirming in his spot.

“Sit tight, someone's coming to get you,” Jungkook says before pocketing his phone.

Jungkook takes his leave, climbing back onto his bike to wait for the police car.

While he waits, his personal phone rings, he has received a notification, he notes, retrieving his phone, he swipes it open to reveal a text from Barbara.

‘Wanna come over after your patrol?’

‘Can't, got a project I need to finish up tonight after the patrol, next time.’

Jungkook then pockets his phone and focuses back on what the guy said, green powers, and from what he had seen, a figure that flies with a green glow that's all too familiar, if his assumptions are correct, that means you're back on earth.

Does Jungkook actually have a project to finish up? No he doesn't, but did he lie to Barbara in order to get to the bottom of your likely appearance? Yes.

But to Jungkook’s defense, he and Barbara are a strictly no strings attached kind of situation, even though Barbara has always dropped hints about being keen on the idea of taking what they currently have going on to the next level, Jungkook just can't.

It's an open secret at this point, why he's not open to a relationship, and it's also the same reason why he's now taking off to the titans’ tower after the arrival of a police car.

Jungkook immediately dashed into the tech room where he keeps track of all the latest news and happenings within Gotham and other neighbouring cities, including the atmosphere, but before he could check if there was any unusual activity other than Superman's daily fly out for the sun's direct rays, the monitors that show the tower’s live security footage picks up something out of the ordinary, Jungkook clicks onto the panel to enlarge the footage, and immediately he recognises the lock of unnaturally bright red hair flowing in tune with the breeze, the helipad area has always been the windiest.

Jungkook runs out of the tech room and takes the fire escape to the helipad, foregoing the lift. When he finally reached the top, he takes a deep breath to calm himself before he pushes the heavy metal door open.

Jungkook’s eyes lock onto your figure, calmly sitting by the edge of the building with your legs dangling over the air before you caught the sound of the door opening, your head whipping back, your eyes wide as you recognise the person standing behind you, so different yet you still recognise the energy that radiates off of Jungkook.

“Didn't know you still lived here,” you say before patting the spot next to you, “join me.”

Jungkook silently walks to you, taking a seat next to you, as close to you as possible before he scans your face, you've grown into your features so beautifully from when he had last seen you when you were both teenagers, a little bit more mature, more woman, for a lack of better wording, not that Jungkook could think up of anything right now other than that he's glad that you're back.

“You came back,” Jungkook says, still in disbelief, he thinks he's dreaming and fears that he might wake up at any moment.

“Yeah, the whole ruling over the planet thing isn't really my thing,” you say with a shrug.

“How did you convince your aunt and uncle to let you go?” Jungkook asks before he realised that he still has his mask on, yanking it off his head and pocketing it quickly, he even catches a ghost of a smile on your lips before you school your face back to a neutral expression.

‘Why are you being so distant towards him?’ Jungkook wonders to himself.

“My other cousin offered to take over the throne through a battle that I lost intentionally,” you explain, the throne would've been yours ages ago if your sister hadn't framed you for killing your own parents, but he knows you never wanted to rule the planet.

“How long have you been back?” Jungkook asks, you don't look like you just got back, you have regular clothes on, why didn't you look for him first thing you got back?

“Almost a week, crashed at Raven’s place,” you say offhandedly, as if you didn't send Jungkook’s mind spiralling, the most forefront question in his mind on repeat right now questioning if what the two of you had was merely a fever dream.

“I'm glad you're back, I really am, the team isn't the same without you,” Jungkook says, but he feels like he's got a mouthful of sand weighing his words down.

“I thought you're more of a solo act now, Raven’s told me all about your promotion, Nightwing,” you tease, your first smile of the night, Jungkook notes, at least you're genuinely happy for him.

“Yeah, Bruce had me promoted because he wants to spend more time with Selina,” Jungkook jokes, laughing at his own joke, but when he realises what position he's in right now, he sombers up, suddenly things aren't so funny anymore, if Bruce could get his happy ending, then could he get his?

“They seem like a happy couple, can't wait for the wedding,” you say while nodding your head, as if you're very certain that the two would end up being wedded.

“I sure hope they do end up together forever, the last thing I'd want is for Bruce to be in a pissy mood all the time,” Jungkook says with a sigh, knowing Bruce's temper, “speaking of forever, will you ever return back to Tamaran, or are you staying on earth permanently?” Jungkook asks, he couldn't help it, he has to know if he has a chance with you.

“It depends, I'll stay on earth if I'm given a reason to,” you say with a quick glance to Jungkook before you quickly change the topic, “how about we get back to your patrol? I'm sure you stopped halfway because you saw a glimpse of me during it, I'll join you, it's been so long since we last did this,” you say before getting up and walking back to the fire escape.

Jungkook follows you wordlessly like a lovesick puppy, he can't help it, he finally feels like he has something to look forward to other than catching crooks and passing tests.

When he follows you down the stairs, he sees your fit more closely under the help of the fluorescent lights, and Jungkook curses internally when he catches sight of your bubble butt in no other than the iconic juicy couture tight sweats that have a bejewelled juicy stamped across your cheeks, the pink velvet material sticking close to your skin.

A little too soon for his liking, the both of you have reached the living area, and to Jungkook’s shock, you strip right in front of him, revealing a new suit underneath the matching set, a bodysuit with tiny gems of many shades of purple and green, the familiar red gem from your old suit remains its position beneath your clavicle.

“Wow,” Jungkook says, starstruck, your suit, your body, he'd get down on his knees right now to beg if you asked, and your new boots, they go as far as your uppertighs, how did he not catch the tip of your boots just now?

“Yeah, the old suit doesn't fit all that well anymore and it was customary for me to get a new one once I became ruler, is it too much?” you question with a twirl and Jungkook feels the breath being knocked out of himself at the sight of your body being wrapped up so prettily in your new suit.

“No, not at all, you look beautiful,” Jungkook sputters before pressing the button that calls the lift up to this floor, and fortunately for him, it arrives sooner than expected so he doesn't have to look like a loser in front of you anymore.

“Thank you, your new suit looks great on you as well,” you say, complimenting him, and Jungkook has never been more glad about his mop of hair covering the tips of his ears, you've never said the same for his Robin costume, in fact, sometimes you'd say it was cute because of all the bright colours, just to annoy him, “a bit different from the Robin suit, but not in a bad way, just makes me realise how much we've grown,” you say say with a bittersweet sigh, in a blink of an eye the two of you are now in your 20s, and Jungkook has grown into a man so suddenly.

“I'm still the same Jungkook you've always known, nothing’s changed, Star,” Jungkook insists, stepping closer to you, but to his misfortune, the lift doors slid open and you moved away from him, excited to see the changes of the garage after so many years.

“We've all changed, Jungkook, change is inevitable, see, you even have a new bike, I love the blue highlights,” you gushed, taking a closer look when Jungkook turned it on through the comms on his suit.

“I could take you for a spin instead of flying,” Jungkook offers as he leans on his bike, gazing at you intently to scan for your reaction, but he's quickly sidetracked, god, you're so pretty.

“It's better to scan from below and above, Kook,” you explain, brushing off his offer without a second of hesitation, but Jungkook isn't the type to give up, he's Nightwing, for fuck’s sake.

“I'll drop you off after the bridge, how's that sound? You've never ridden this bike before, I swear it's even better than the old one,” Jungkook says, even throwing in his puppy eyes that he knows you can't resist to convince you.

“Fine,” you lament with a roll of your eyes, “and you said you never changed, you used to hate it when I asked to go for a spin behind you when we were kids,” you say with a huff as you watch him swing a leg over the huge thing, why is his suit so damn skintight, it's too distracting.

“That's because we were kids and I was being a dick, I let you ride behind me when we started-,” Jungkook cuts himself off, he doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that the two of you are no longer together, that he might never be yours ever again.

“This does feel sturdier than the last one,” you say offhandedly as you climb up behind Jungkook, trying your best to leave a gap between your bodies.

“It goes faster too, Bruce had the old one made to be ‘teen safe’, so you gotta hold on tight,” Jungkook says, albeit still distracted by the messy thoughts in his head.

‘Get your head out of the gutter, damn it,’ Jungkook cursed at himself as he puts on his helmet, then with a kick of his leg, he started the engine and took off.

Immediately he hears you curse by his ear and feels your body fall against his due to the force of the sudden speed, the feeling so familiar but so different, and intrusively, Jungkook thinks it'd feel even better if both of you didn't have any clothes on right now, but he quickly buries that thought into the back of his head before he sports a half mass in front of you, and he before he knows it, the connection bridge between the tower and town comes to an end, so he hits the brakes and lets you fly off on your own, tailing your route via his bike, your beautiful silhouette painting the night sky a pretty shade of neon green wherever you go.

To Jungkook’s surprise, Gotham is quiet tonight, as if all the criminals, other than the one from earlier, decided to take this random Tuesday night off, and so the patrol was coming to an end, that is, until he sees you flying down to check something out a few meters away, and so Jungkook speeds down to meet you, expecting to beat up someone, he quickly unseaths his pair of escrima sticks, quickly advancing to where he'd last caught your green glow, but instead of seeing you in action, he sees you crouched next to a thin and frail old woman next to a dumpster.

“Hey, how about I give you some money for the night to find somewhere to stay for a few days and have some actual meals-

“I can't accept that, child, I'm a nuisance enough as it is, homeless at such an old age,” she says with a shake of her head at her own misfortune.

“What's up?” Jungkook asks you, trying to assess the situation at hand now that he's not in offense mode, putting his escrima sticks away.

“This grandma here, her husband recently passed away and the old man didn't leave her anything in the will and instead signed everything away to the mistress’s family, including their own home, she's been trying to look for a job, but no one's willing to hire an old woman for all the jobs she went interviews for,” you explain.

“Hey, it's not the end of the world, ma'am, do you know the stew kitchen in Chinatown? They have rooms above the store for people who need a place to stay, as long as you're willing to help with the volunteer work in any way in your capacity, maybe you can help with the kitchen work?” Jungkook suggests, and the old lady thanks him profusely for the suggestion, “here, take the money and look for a nearby hotel to stay for the night, order some food for tonight and tomorrow's breakfast, then take a cab to Chinatown tomorrow, alright?” Jungkook says as he fishes out his wallet from the side, pulling out enough money to last her a few days, just in case she needs to rest up longer at wherever she's staying at.

“Thank you so much, you two youngsters are too kind, thank you,” she says with a bow before the two of you guide her to the nearest hotel, which is only a few blocks away.

“So much for ‘I’ when you clearly don't have any money on you,” Jungkook teases, and for a moment, you don't know what he meant, until you recall the moment when he joined the conversation and what you had said.

“Oh come on, I'm not the heir to Wayne Enterprise here,” you say as a defense, shoving Jungkook playfully before you take flight again, but before you could get too far, Jungkook calls out to you.

“How about a race on the rooftops? First one to reach the bridge wins,” Jungkook suggests, and he knows it's an offer you won't turn down, the two of you used to love being a menace on all the rooftops, sometimes you'd run to the Wayne Tower just to piss him off.

“Oh you're going down, Jeon,” you say before you fly down to grasp his arms with your hands, Jungkook’s gotten much heavier than when you last did this, but you still manage to toss him up the nearest roof and begin the race.

Running side by side until a building is too tall to be reached by foot, you would fly and Jungkook would employ his trusty grappling hook gun, and you haven't felt this free in ages.

Jungkook could tell that whatever worries you had are now momentarily faded to the back of your head as you laugh at a particularly odd office garden rooftop landscape.

Soon the race comes to an end, and it seems like you were about to win, but Jungkook had purposefully fell back to do this, instead of reaching for his grappling hook gun for the final leap, he reaches for his lasso gun, aiming it at you, letting the ropes encase you.

“Jungkook! What the fuck are you up to, oh my god,” you demand in disbelief, you can't for the life of you put up with this man and the antics he springs on you, and to think he did some growing up while you were gone.

“If I didn't lasso you up, you'd fly all the way back to the tower,” Jungkook says with a tut as he reigns you in, until he successfully pulls you into his embrace, a gasp leaving your lips at the lack of distance between the two of you.

“Okay, cowboy, I think it's time to let me go, you caught me, breaking the rules to do it by the way, I don't think I agreed to a chase but a race,” you say as you wiggle in his hold, seeing if you can break free without breaking his new toy.

“It was too tempting, thought I'd try out this new tool, you know,” Jungkook says with a shrug and that smug expression on his face that unfortunately for you, still gives you butterflies.

“Aw, did daddy get you new toys?” you tease, but you regret it in an instant when you see the way his eyes darken.

“Don't you call him that,” Jungkook warns as his grip on you tightens, almost bruising, and you really shouldn't say what's on your mind right now, but you can't help but give into the temptation, blaming the fact that being so close to Jungkook derails all common sense from your head.

“Why not? Who should I be calling that then?” you retort, chest heaving in anticipation of Jungkook’s next move.

But when his eyes snap to your lips, you feel like a bucket of cold water washed over you, waking you up from whatever charm Jungkook had you on, pushing him away with both palms on his sturdy chest.

“We shouldn't,” you say as you try your best to loosen yourself from his hold with no avail, you forgot how annoying you used to find his little toys to be.

“Why not? Why are you acting so distant? Why can't we go back to how things were between us? You said you're not leaving, are you planning to leave earth again?” Jungkook asks as he feels his heart sink, like his whole world is crumbling around him, which is ironic because his whole world now resides in his arms.

“Kook, I don't want to get between you and Barbara, I don't want to wreck whatever you have going on with her, it's wrong and unfair to her,” you explain, after giving up on escaping his hold.

“Sweetheart, whatever I have going on with Barbara, it's casual, just an easy stress relief for me, she's nothing to me, whatever I have going on with her, it comes to an end, I feel nothing for her, it's always been you, all this time, since we were kids, I love you, Star,” Jungkook confesses, he sounds like such a jerk to Barbara, but he doesn't give a fuck as long as you get the message that he's all in for you, that he'd give up the world for you.

“Really? You don't have any feelings for Barbara?” you ask again, just to be certain, you could always tell when he lied as a kid, you just have to look into his eyes closer, just to see if he has even a sliver of doubt.

“No, but I do know that I love you, with all my heart,” Jungkook says once more before he steals a quick peck of your lips, god, he can taste the grape flavoured lip balm on you, and he thinks he's found a new addiction.

“I love you too, Jungkook, now if you could be a gentleman and let me go, that would be great,” you say before you feel the ropes around you loosen, but just as quickly, Jungkook’s arms are around you again, that bright smile that you missed all these years is back on his beautiful face.

“How did you find out about Barbara anyways?” Jungkook asks, head tilted to a side like that would instantly help him think clearer about the situation, cute that he still has this habit, you thought to yourself.

“Raven,” that one word and Jungkook makes a fuss about how she's always so privy to her own privacy and never about his.

“Oh come on, I would've found out one way or another, could've just tailed you myself,” you say with a shrug, and both of you know you're right, it's how you found out all the surprises Jungkook was planning for you back then when you were dating after all.

“Ride back with me,” Jungkook suggests, and you give in, letting him hold your hand, leading you to where his bike is parked, camouflaged with its invisibility feature.

“Did this thing drive itself like the last one?” you ask as you spot the bike right in front of you knowing that it sure wasn't half an hour ago, to which Jungkook tells you that it does in fact have a self driving mode, and so you formulate something in your mind that probably breaks like ten traffic laws at once.

When you told Jungkook to lie down facing you instead of the road on his bike, he thought you were joking, until you straddled him and told him to put the bike on self driving mode, that's when he pieced two and two together, and Jungkook’s never been more grateful for technology, oh and also his strong thigh muscles, because he's damn sure if he's any weaker, he would've been faced down on the road right now instead of groaning into your lips as he indulges in the feeling of having you grind down on his boner as the two of you zoom past empty traffic, he needs to tell Alfred to wipe the traffic cameras later, he thinks to himself before he feels your hand gripping his cock through his suit, breaking his chain of thoughts.

“Baby, when did you get this adventurous?” Jungkook asks with a shake of his head in disbelief as he feels your hand wander from his length to his chest, groping around, trying your best to find his nipples as you take his earlobe between your lips, biting playfully.

“Just making up for lost time,” you reply quickly before you finally found one of his nipples, lightly pinching the sensitive bud, which garners quite the enthusiasm from his junior down there, twitching beneath your clothed core.

“We have all the time in the world, and also, we're back to headquarters,” Jungkook notifies you before he tells you to shift so he can park his bike.

In the meantime, you let your eyes wander around the garage, taking in the changes, there's way more vehicles here now, in the past there was only Jungkook’s bike and the Cyborg truck that Mingyu used to ferry all of you around town, now there's a fleet of supercars lined up next to each other.

“They're all yours?”, you ask as you let Jungkook carry you down his bike, even though both of you know damn well you're more than capable of getting off yourself.

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a shrug like they're mere toy cars, well to him they might be, especially in terms of financial value.

“Nice, it's been so long since I drove, can't wait to take them for a spin,” you say offhandedly, but you see Jungkook tense up immediately.

“Babe, come on, the last time you drove-

“Oh come on, I just suck at parking, that's what boyfriends are for anyways, and yeah it's been years but I'm sure it'll be fine, I have a license, remember?” you deadpan, ignoring the million dollar jackpot look Jungkook is currently sporting.

“What did you just say?” Jungkook asks, that stupid goofy smile still on his face as he reaches for you, resting his hands on your hips.

“That I'm driving one of these bad boys, so you can either panic in the passenger seat or not be in the car at all,” you say with finality, you'll steal his car keys if you have to, you're sure you can find his car keys somewhere in this damn building.

“Nuh uh, you're not getting out of this, missy, repeat the first part,” Jungkook says, but before he could corner you to the nearest wall, you escape from his embrace.

“Only if you catch me!” you holler as you run to the lift at top speed, shutting the doors in Jungkook’s face.

“God damn it, I forgot how she drives me mad,” Jungkook mutters to himself as he watches the lift stop at the 4th floor before he dashes to the fire escape to track you down, but knowing you, you would take the stairs to other floors to throw him off your trail.

‘I got my work cut out for me, don't I?’ Jungkook thought to himself with a sigh.

There isn't much at 4th floor, just a storage room for weapons, numerous floors before the top floors are for storage, not enough space for anything else, even though he catches a whiff of the scent of your perfume, he knows you're long gone, as confirmed by the lift’s panel now showing that you're at the 35th floor, where the main floor resides, Jungkook decides to take the lift this time round, just in case you decide to play a prank on him and head back down the lower floors.

When he reached his destination, he catches a glimpse of green glow in the dark at the corridor which leads to the rooms, he knows you're leaving him crumbs to follow, so he plays along, chasing the green glow until it disappears down a hallway, when he sees the observation deck at the end, he wonders if you're waiting for him there, that's where the two of you had your first time after all, but when he gets there, it's empty, so Jungkook goes to his next best guess, your room, scanning his face at the security pad before the automated doors slide open to reveal you, standing in the dark other than the light emitting from your hand as a makeshift torch light, looking at all your old photos that you had hung on the wall.

“Caught you,” Jungkook says as he wraps an arm around you, noticing that you've changed into an old sweater of yours, and suddenly he feels like nothing really ever changed, you're still you and he's still the Jungkook that has always felt love and affection towards you.

“Took you long enough,” you say with an exasperated sigh.

“Well, someone decided to change routes last minute, speaking of change, I didn't move any of your stuff, just came in here to clean from time to time,” Jungkook didn't let the cleaners go in your room, he didn't want anything out of order if you ever came back.

“Thank you, thought Mingyu would've converted my room into a gaming room by the time I got back,” you joke, but deep down you always had a gut feeling that Jungkook would leave your room as it is.

“He's moved in with Sarah and they only come back to visit from time to time during semester break or long weekends, so a gaming room would be Sarah’s issue now,” Jungkook explains with a chuckle knowing damn well Sarah isn't going to let him have a gaming room.

“I'm glad they finally got together,” you still remember the days of Mingyu downloading random foreign languages to impress Sarah when they volunteered at the pet shelter together.

“Mhm, I think you owe me a label too,” Jungkook says, laying kisses on your neck where the sweater is swooped down, trying to get as much exposed skin as possible.

“How about you show me you're worthy of the label first?” you retort, turning to face him because you know he'd be caught off guard, and true to your assumptions, he looks damn cute with his mouth popped open in shock and eyebrows shot up his forehead before he quickly composes himself, now his gaze is dangerous, like a predator that stumbled upon his prey.

“Oh baby, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into,” Jungkook says before he pushes you onto your bed, caging you with his arms, but before he could take things up a notch, you push his lips away with a palm.

“Not in front of my kids, babe,” you say before Jungkook looks at you all confused, that is until you reach a hand out to ‘pet’ your snoopy plushie, one of the many plushies on your bed.

“Seriously?” Jungkook questions ludicrously, eyeing all of your plushies with a frown, he's getting cockblocked by plushies, of all things.

“Seriously, it's either we're doing this in your room or you're not getting no pussy,” you say, definitely not up for debate with that stern tone of yours.

“Fuck it, fine,” Jungkook says before he scoops you up in his arms without any strain, as if you weigh as much as a feather.

“Fuck, you could've just let me walk, it's just two steps,” you say as you hold onto Jungkook’s shoulders for dear life, shaken up by how quickly he had you up in his arms.

“Can't risk you running away again,” Jungkook says as he scans his palm to unlock his room, crossing the last few steps to toss you on his comfy bed unceremoniously before getting back into the previous position he was in back in your room.

“Have you ever brought her here?” there you go running your mouth with something stupid, but you couldn't help it, scanning his face.

“I'd never bring her up here, the Titans Tower is our place, even if by some miracle, I managed to move on enough to marry someone, it'd still feel wrong to bring them up here, that's such a jerk thing to say, but I'll never have to worry about that anymore,” Jungkook says before he resumes kissing you, all the anger and longing pouring into the kiss, he isn't mad at you, he'll never be, but the thought of him needing to settle for someone who isn't you struck a nerve, his hands are grabbing every every slither of skin he could get even though his fingertips are sealed in his suit as he dominates the kiss, rolling his hips into yours, cursing at the way his cock is straining in the confines of his suit.

“Does it hurt?” you ask after your hand stills the movement of his hips, clenching your thighs as close as you can at the sight of the bulge he's sporting.

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a shake of his head, huffing at the fact that he probably looks like a hot mess right now.

“Let me make it feel better, where's the zipper of this suit?” you ask as you use your question as an excuse to feel him up, Jungkook could tell what you're up to with the way your eyes seem to get lost tracing his body, but he lets you indulge in this moment, all those gruelling hours training are suddenly so fucking worth it.

“It's at the back,” Jungkook tells you before he reaches a hand back to locate the zipper, but you stopped him in his tracks.

“I'll do it, but first, could you do a bit of quick spin, couldn't admire this suit on you before you had me distracted,” you say with a twirl of your index finger as emphasis.

“Someone's being greedy tonight,” Jungkook comments, but obliges to your demands, doing a slow turn with his arms up like he's surrendering himself to you, and in a sense he is.

“Famished,” was the first word to come to mind when your eyes landed on the absolute globes that is his butt, unable to hold back, you land a smack on one of his cheeks, in complete awe when you hear the resounding smack along with the recoil of the meat.

“You did not just,” Jungkook says as he looks back to see you still staring at his butt like he's got a million dollars stacked on his butt, and he's still in complete shock at what you just did.

“It was too hard to resist,” you say before standing up from the bed to wrestle Jungkook onto the bed, his stomach connecting with the bed with a huff, internally groaning at what he's gotten himself into by falling head first with an alien being with inhuman strength.

“This is the comfiest cushion ever,” you say after you straddle Jungkook’s hips, taking a seat right on his butt.

“How much time are you gonna spend admiring my ass, Star?” Jungkook questions with a sigh, he's going to have a long night ahead of him, he's sure.

“Who said anything about your ass? It's just easier to take off your suit this way,” you lie through your teeth as you wiggle your hips, but nonetheless, you began unzipping his suit, revealing golden tan skin, and to Jungkook’s misfortune, he feels your hand tracing each ridge and curve of his back muscles, he wants to flip you over and get it on with, but he knows he has no match for you in terms of physical strength, at least not when you're in such a position.

Jungkook is anticipating your next move, but at the same time, he can't help but bask in the attention and care you're showing him, the way you'd caress every bit of skin you can get your hands on then he feels a flutter of a quick peck of your lips, as if you can just tell he's been pushing himself to the max just to do his best in protecting the city, but as you trail lower, Jungkook’s arousal once again stirs as he feels the zipper reach the end of the line, to which he just realised, he recently had Alfred tailor it to end below the curve of his butt because he was tired of yanking the suit up his butt when he's in a rush, he groans internally at the thought of you poking fun at him for having the zipper this low.

“I've never even seen dresses having zippers this low, holy shit,” you comment before landing another swat at his butt, giggling to yourself at Jungkook’s groan of annoyance, but he's willing to put up with this if it means he hears you being all joyful, even if it means he has to endure your new obsession with his butt.

What he didn't expect, however, was the feeling of canines sinking into his cheek.

“Babe, what the fuck?” Jungkook questions as he whips his head back to look at you, your head now resting on where you had just taken a bite, it wasn't by any means painful, just a mild chomp, but it took him by surprise regardless.

“Sorry, the intrusive thoughts, you know, couldn't help it, I love the texture,” you say offhandedly before taking another bite on his other cheek, lighter this time, all while Jungkook looks at you with disbelief and slight arousal swimming in his eyes, the mild ache of your teeth sending a jolt to his cock, biting back the moan that threatens to leave his lips.

“I'd like to see how you'd react if I had you spread out like this while I take a bite of your butt,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes.

“Jokes on you cuz I'd love it, now roll over, you promised me a ride,” you remind him with a gentle pat on his butt to get him moving.

“We're not even naked yet,” Jungkook says with a chuckle before he quickly shucks off his suit, sitting back down on the bed with a gesture for you to turn, but you shake your head, not needing his help, quickly unzipping your suit from the side.

“I should've had the zip on the side too,” Jungkook mutters, but all thoughts immediately cease from his head when your bare body is revealed, he had no idea you were nude under your suit.

“Cat got your tongue?” you ask as you cup his cheeks in your hands, amused at the way his eyes seem to be in a daze.

“I'm the luckiest man in the world,” Jungkook says before he stands up to maneuver his mirror to the front of his bed, a giant smile on his face like a child in a candy shop.

“Why are you suddenly redecorating your room in your boxers while I'm standing here naked?” you ask, confused at his sudden enthusiasm that is no longer directed at you.

“Wanna see the pretty faces you'll make and every little movement from this gorgeous body while I make you feel good,” Jungkook explains before he manhandles you to take a seat between his thighs on the bed, facing the mirror, and you understand Jungkook’s enthusiasm now, you've always been confident about your own body, but seeing Jungkook’s broad built behind your smaller body sends a shock southwards, the last time you've seen the two of you in front of a reflection was ages ago, and needless to say, Jungkook bulked up a lot while you were gone, you used to enjoy how the two of you were around the same height and built, but Jungkook’s new image sends a new thrill down your spine.

While you're distracted by the view in the mirror, you fail to see Jungkook’s fingers trailing to your lower lips, surprised when you felt cold air tickling your clit before Jungkook gives it a few twirls with his fingers, testing the waters, your legs shaking with the sudden pleasure running through your body.

“Still so fucking sensitive,” Jungkook mutters with a groan by your ear, his cock chubbing up beneath you, just seeing you react to his touch like this has him growing.

He rubs circles on your bundle of nerves while his other hand is occupied with fondling one of your breasts, thumbing your nipple with his fiery touch, but it's his gaze that has you dripping into his palm, the way his eyes zero in on your body, locking into every little movement, and soon he dips two fingers inside you.

“Ride my fingers, beautiful,” Jungkook commands, to which you oblige, a hand laying on Jungkook’s muscular thigh to support yourself before you begin riding his fingers at a mild pace, lifting up until just before his fingertips show before you sink down to his knuckles, moaning his name wantonly, back arching, you haven't had fingers fill you up so full in so long, your fingers petite in comparison to Jungkook’s.

You don't know what's hotter, the fact that you have Jungkook’s fingers inside you when you didn't think you even had the chance anymore, or the way he looks like he wants to devour you in the best way possible.

“Should I feed your greedy pussy one more finger? Can't ever get enough until you have my cock, am I right?” Jungkook taunts his hands still occupied with your sensitive parts, but his left hand is now on your other boob, showing the girls equal amount of love and attention, but when you're too enraptured by the pleasure clouding your mind to answer Jungkook, his hand on your breast goes to your throat, choking you lightly, getting your attention, your walls clenching on his fingers tighter, his brow quirked up in surprise, he's definitely saving this information for later.

“Answer me, baby,” Jungkook demands.

“Yes, want everything you have to give me, your fingers, your cock, anything,” you say in a rush, eager to please, especially with the promise of more pleasure.

Jungkook smiles proudly before he slips one more finger next to his other two, cursing at the way you just swallow him up, mind drifting to imagining how good he'd feel later if you feel this wet and warm around his fingers.

When you increase the pace of your hips to chase the impending high you can feel on the horizon, Jungkook pulls his fingers out with an obscene wet pop sounding between your legs, whining at the sudden loss of your pleasure.

“Patient, wanna fuck you now,” Jungkook says with a light spank, to which he's awarded with a strangled moan and a delightful jiggle of your cheek, manhandling you off his thighs to shuck off his boxers, sighing in relief, his hard cock finally free from its tight confines.

“Come sit on my cock, baby,” Jungkook demands after taking a seat back on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, watching you as you take your position above him, hovering over his length, but since you're feeling bratty, instead of immediately sinking down, you summon your powers to keep yourself aloft, his cock nudging at your core, just a little bit more and he'd be greeted by your tight walls.

“Are you being fucking for real, now, babe?” Jungkook questions, feigning annoyance, but you can right through his act.

“If I'm being real, I can do this all night,” you joke, drumming your nails on Jungkook’s muscular chest just to rile him up further, what you didn't expect, however, was that Jungkook would hook his right leg over your back to flip you over, your back hitting the bed with a soft thud, and before you can even protest about the sudden switch of positions, Jungkook restrains your wrists above your head.

“It's been years, sweetheart, I've been building muscle, we're not that far apart in terms of physical strength,” Jungkook says with a smug smirk on his face.

“You have to own up to what you just said, love,” you say, poking at the bear that is his ego.

“Oh baby, you're gonna regret teasing me,” Jungkook says with a shake of his head before he's sinking into your core with a groan, a hand bracing against the headboard as his inches bottom out, you try your hardest not to whine at the way he's filling you up so nicely, he's definitely grown from the last tryst the two of you shared before you left if that's possible.

Jungkook gives you some time to get adjusted to his size before he begins thrusting at a brutal pace, he has a point to prove and an impression to make tonight, he's going to use every ounce of strength to satisfy you if that's what it takes.

He thinks he's doing a good job at it at this moment, with the way his name is leaving your lips in broken crescendos of your beautiful moans as your walls pulse and clench around his length, and not to mention, the sweet pain of your nails digging into the back of his hand as he continues his hold onto your wrists.

“Don't want you to hold back, baby,” Jungkook says before he frees your wrists to hitch your legs higher over his back, this angle allowing him to go even deeper, and instead of the mild taps of the tip of his cock on your sweet spot, he is now hitting the spongy sensitive spot inside you with hard consistent thrusts.

You let out an almost scream of a whine as you claw the side of Jungkook’s back with your nails, to try your best to grasp onto reality as you're getting your shit absolutely wrecked.

“Am I living up to my words, darling? Or should I add more action into the mix?” Jungkook taunts before he trails a hand down between your lower lips to locate your clit once again, drawing quick and rough circles around the sensitive nub.

“Fuck,” you curse with a moan as you clench your walls around Jungkook, your release drenching his length as Jungkook increases the pace of his hips to chase his own high, his jaw clenching as he takes in the beauty of your nudity and the way you're basking in the pleasure he's giving you, your eyes fluttering as you let yourself enjoy the slight pain and immense pleasure that comes from being overstimulated, the way you just lay there and take anything Jungkook gives you, Jungkook cums inside you with a groan, giving himself a few more shallow thrusts before he sinks his cock deep inside you once more, giving into his carnal desire of wanting to have you warm his cock post fucking, the warmth of your combined releases sending a shudder down his spine, he could never deny the possessive streak he has over you, especially now that he has you again.

He thinks you're just as bad when it comes to this possessiveness when you claim his lips with your own, chewing his bottom lip before dipping your tongue into his mouth, a fight of dominance ensues before the two of you give up to pull away for oxygen with the sillies erupting from your bellies, it's so awfully familiar and refreshing at the same time, feeling this in love again after so long, all those lonely moments and yearning to be with Jungkook all don't matter now that you're back in Jungkook’s arms.

Your train of thought is interrupted by the twitching of Jungkook’s length inside you.

“Seriously?” you ask in disbelief, looking at the man beside you ludicrously.

“You told me to prove my physical strength to you and I did it, how about I show you how much training I had on physical endurance?” Jeongguk asks with a quirk of his brows and a stupid smug smile on his face that you find all too annoying and endearing at the same time.

“Oh you're on, Jeon,” you retort before proceeding to switch positions to flip him on his back, this is going to be a long night, you think to yourself giddily.

*Meanwhile at the Wayne Manor*

“Master Bruce, my apologies for interrupting your slumber, but I had just received a message from Young Master Jungkook to erase some traffic footage from tonight, you told me to keep tabs on young master, so I just thought I'd let you know about this update,” Alfred informs a sleep riddled Bruce Wayne.

“What the fuck was this kid up to?” Bruce asks before Alfred hands over a tablet, knowing that his master was going to ask.

Bruce squints at the bright screen, zooming in on the two familiar figures and their wild antics.

“Fuck’s sake, wipe this shit clean, Alfred, thank you,” Bruce says before sighing disapprovingly, Alfred holds in his laugh as he leaves his master be, bidding him goodnight.

“Don't be so uptight, Bruce, we did the same thing in your mobile just a few months ago,” Selina brushes off with a chuckle, putting the tablet aside to pull her lover back to bed.

“We did that in a car with a covered roof, love, it's not the same,” he says with a sigh, but he relents, going back to bed with a groan.

Jungkook wakes up to the warmth of your body pressed against his, breathing a sigh of relief that it wasn't a dream last night, that you are indeed back on earth and back to being together, things are finally back to normal now.

Jungkook recalls that very painful night where he had to say goodbye to you, how he felt like his world was falling apart as he was waving at your ship, it was just last week when he felt like his life had no meaning and that death would make no difference. There's days where Jungkook would just stare at the night sky at the helipad, hoping that your ship would suddenly appear to come back and pick him up, he would've chosen to live in a foreign planet if it means he could've gotten back the cosmic love he had shared with you.

Sometimes he'd stare at the Gotham skyline with a sense of hollowness, haunted by the memories of the two of you and your rendezvous around the city.

Jungkook shakes himself out of those painful memories before he allows himself a moment to bask in the joy of having you in his arms a little longer before he gets up to wash up and get an early morning workout in before you wake up.

When you finally come around, you're all freshen up, looking beautiful with a glow like no other when you come bounding in the gym with some short shorts and his tee that you slept in, wordlessly, you get on with your own routine at the side before you decide that you had enough for the day and shower off.

“Should I make brunch or you wanna head out?” you ask when you spot Jungkook coming into the kitchen with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, choosing to direct your attention to the boring pantry instead, but what greets you is empty cupboards with nothing but cereal and instant noodles and some eggs in the fridge.

“Brunch it is,” you mutter to yourself.

“We can stock up on groceries after brunch,” Jungkook promises with a peck on your lips as he leads you back to your rooms to get dressed, trying your very best to not jump Jungkook’s bones again.

“I could've driven us, you know,” you say with a huff before you eye Jungkook’s English breakfast with slight interest, for some reason your pancakes need more time than his huge plate of breakfast food.

“Let's practice with my cheapest car on an emptier street before you start driving us around, love,” Jungkook says before he picks up some of the champion mushrooms you've been eyeing on his plate with his fork, feeding you.

“Fine,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“I would've never thought you'd actually go through with piercing your ears and getting that whole sleeve, you were still very much on the fence when I left,” you say as you reach out to gently run a finger through his piercings.

“Kinda used them as a coping mechanism if I'm being honest, but I don't regret any of it,” Jungkook says with a shrug, he doesn't need to tell you his gruelling hours at the gym to stay sane, you've known about that bad habit of his for years.

You were about to ask Jungkook to explain each and every one of his tattoos’ meanings, but you were interrupted by the arrival of your pancakes accompanied by your friends.

“I can't believe the team is back, baby!” Mingyu bellows as he slides in next to you, followed by the others, and suddenly, you feel right at home now more than ever, surrounded by the titans that you spent your youth with, looking forward to the future that's brighter than any star you've ever laid eyes upon.

[viaoverthemoon]

License and Registration

RE2!Cop!Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your police officer boyfriend, Leon, catches you speeding once again.

Content: SMUT, car sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, switch Leon, kind of-dom Reader, teasing, praise, comfort, not throughly proofread (I'm rusty- Let me know if I missed anything!)

18+!! NSFW!! MDNI!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!

Enjoy!

.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆

The sound of a siren pulls you from the adrenaline high you were experiencing.

Instantly recognizing the head of blonde hair behind the windshield, you smirk, pressing the brake and moving off to the side. Not that it mattered all that much, seeing as you were on a deserted side road surrounded by trees.

The gum in your mouth sticks to your teeth with every chew, the red of your lipstick smearing on it.

The officer walks out of the car with his head hung low and shaking, as if he were disappointed.

He definitely is.

You roll down your window, blowing a bubble into your gum as he comes to a stop outside of your door.

His brows furrow angrily as he places his hands on his hips. "(Y/n)..."

You pop the bubble, sucking it back into your mouth and offering him a sly smile. "Officer Kennedy!"

He glares at you whilst you pull your mirror down and fix your hair. "What are you doing on duty so late? I thought we had a hot date at 6 o'clock."

He doesn't seem to share your playful mood, crossing his arms across his chest and giving you that concerned, unimpressed look. "Sweetheart... I thought we talked about driving recklessly just to see me when I'm working."

You flutter your lashes, looking up at him with a mocking pout. "Oh baby... not everything I do has something to do with you..."

He leans in through your open window, coming so close his lips brush against your ear. "Angel, whenever it comes to you acting like a desperate little brat, it's always got something to do with me."

Heat pools in your belly. You're about to ask him if that was a challenge but he steps back, leaving a hand on the edge of your car window and running a hand through his blonde hair and taking a deep breath.

"Baby, I can't keep letting you go with a warning. Someone's bound to catch on..."

You hum, reaching a hand up and running your fingertips along the skin of his arm.

His eyes snap to your hand before looking at you, eyes wide and shocked.

"I'm sorry, my love... is there any way I can make it up to you?"

☆

If someone drove down this road right now, you'd be screwed.

The smell of sweat and sex fills the small space of the car around you as your nails dig little crescent marks into your boyfriend's shoulders.

Leon wasted no time after your question, dragging you from your car and tossing you into the back seat of his cop one.

And now, you sit on his lap, his cock nested deep inside of you.

His hands rest comfortably on your ass, his eyes drinking in the sight of your face as you whimper and whine at the mere feeling of him.

When your hips stutter and your legs begin to give out, he shifts his hands to the underside of your thighs, helping you move up and down on his cock.

Blinking through the thickening hot haze, you look down at your officer.

He's already looking up at you, brows drawn together and pink lips parted in pure pleasure as a faint moan leaks from him.

Your hands slide up his skin and into his hair, nails lightly kneading his scalp whilst you roll your hips, pouting when Leon gasps against your lips. "Poor baby... Does it feel too good?"

You feel his hips jerk upwards, pushing himself impossibly deeper as he nods and places his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "So good- Feels so good, angel...-"

A grunt escapes him, his large hands tightening around your thighs. You nearly cry out when he suddenly picks up the pace, chasing after his fast approaching high.

"L-Leon-! Baby slow down-!"

But it's as if your words fall on deaf ears. Leon only groans loudly, throwing his head back and whining pathetically.

You're teetering on the edge of your own release when a sudden rush of wind and the console digging into your lower back take you by complete surprise.

Your hips lay squished between the two front seats, legs on either side of Leon's hips and in the air. Your hands shift to his upper back, nails scratching harshly along his skin.

He pushes his body weight on you to keep you still as you writhe beneath him, gasping and whining into the empty space of the car.

His large cock slides along your wet walls, the movements creating the most pornographic squelching noise you've ever heard. You swear you feel every vein, every twitch, every stretch.

You cry out, gripping onto him for dear life as your release tears through you, taking your breath away and causing stars to form behind your eyelids.

Leon swears as he feels you clench around him, his legs stopping for just a moment before he groans, pushing into you slowly one last time.

His warm seed spurts inside of you, coating every corner of your walls. He grips the seats for support from the sheer power of his orgasm.

You help him down from his high, stroking his forearms and whispering praises in his ear.

And you only stop when Leon goes slack, pulls out of you with a hiss, and begins to clean everything up. "Jesus Christ... we're never doing that again."

You scoff, slipping your skirt back on. "Oh, we're definitely gonna do this again babe,". You laugh as Leon groans, sitting back in the seat and throwing his arm over his eyes.

"Anyone could have seen us..." His cheeks are flushed pink in embarrassment, blonde hair still messy from all the times you ran your hands through it.

You slide closer to him and kiss his cheek. "Well then, it's a good thing no one did, huh?" You giggle as he playfully glares at you.

Biting your lip, you go to whisper in his ear, discretely slipping something into his pocket. "See you at 8?"

And with that, you slip out of the car and make your way back to your vehicle, pulling your skirt down into place and adjusting your shirt.

All while wondering what his reaction will be when he finds the pair of panties you'd stuffed into his pocket.

.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆

Heyyyy...

Been a while huh? 😓

I'm backkkk

I've been a little busy, BUT, I'm not working anymore cause I'm moving to college soon so I've got a little more time before my real chaos enters my life.

Happy to see y'all again!

-Via 💕

[papervenom]

✩ chapter sixteen: the yule ball ✩

summary: your fourth year starts with the return of the triwizard tournament— and a relationship with cedric diggory that should feel steady, but doesn’t. when harry’s name gets pulled from the goblet, everything shifts. the trio starts to crack, and being with cedric only adds to the tension. you’re sure about how you feel , you love him. but someone else is pulling for your attention, and it’s getting harder to ignore. a slow-burn, character-driven take on goblet of fire, told through your perspective

chapter warnings: alcohol use, romantic tension, jealousy, fluff, yearning, and a little angst

word count: 8.0k

authors note: IT’S FINALLY HERE!!! guys… writing the yule ball has been something i’ve looked forward to ever since starting this series, and i really wanted to do it justice. that’s why it took me (literally) two fucking years to get it together. i ended up writing so much that i had to split it into 2 chapters soo... next chapter is ready and will be posted soon!! it does contain smut (another reason this one took me forever, i wanted the payoff to really feel worth the long, slow burn this story has been) and i genuinely hope i captured all the emotions right. this part of the series is so special to me and i can’t wait to share it with u!

i also just wanna say thank you to everyone who’s been reading, liking, reblogging, or even silently lurking, it all means the world to me. but a special shoutout to @cherrycolacigs, @iwannabeapinkaesthetic , @milkpeanuts476, and @snowvies for ur sweet words. i was genuinely so giddy and warm reading ur messages and just so so grateful. your kindness reminded me exactly why i love sharing this story. truly, thank you <3

finally, i made a yule ball playlist because i got carried away (as usual) and wanted you to be able to live this chapter out with me. thank you again for being here. i can’t even explain how much it means to me. hope you love the chapter. i love you. i love you. i love you. 💋 – k

INSATIABLE MASTERLIST⋆˙⟡

December 17th, 1994

The long-awaited day of the Yule Ball finally came, and to distract myself from the incessant nerves coursing through my body, I accepted the twins' invitation to go out onto the castle grounds that afternoon to kill some time.

The snow had been untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on their way to and from the castle. 

Harry and the Weasley siblings had been partaking in a snowball fight, which Hermione and I chose to watch rather than join in when we saw just how violently they were lunging the snowballs at each other.

Instead, we were going over the steps for the opening dance that we had been practicing with our Triwizard Champion dates. 

Hermione and I clumsily twirled around in the snow as we clutched onto each other, giggling as our feet sank into the thick, ice-cloth— making us nearly topple over.

It was when the five o'clock bell chimed across the castle that Ginny came to take us upstairs so we could start getting ready for the ball.

"What, you need three bloody hours!?" asked Ron, looking at with disbelief and paying for his lapse in concentration when a giant snowball, thrown by George, hit him hard on the side of the head.

"Oi, (Y/N). You gonna be putting on that Victoria Secret tonight, eh?" Fred called out after I had ignored Ron and turned to walk up towards the castle. 

When I processed what the twin had said, I whirled around in shock.

"Harry!" I immediately bellowed at my friend for telling the twins about the shopping I did over the summer. This made the identical brothers laugh as I dove down to grab a handful of snow, which I proceeded to chuck at Harry, who dodged it swiftly.

"Whose secret?" I heard Ron ask cluelessly, making the boys cackle even louder, but I just waved them off with burning cheeks as the girls and I left, going up the stone steps and into the castle.

"What was Fred on about?" Ginny asked curiously, making me hide my face in my hands as Hermione's simper grew wider on her face.

"Back in America, Harry and I went to the mall to do some shopping, and I visited this Muggle store called 'Victoria's Secret' to buy some...stuff," I explained vaguely, my face feeling like it was on fire against my palms.

"What kind of stuff?" Ginny continued to inquire suspiciously.

"Like... sexy underwear," I replied meekly, breaking into a grin as Ginny's eyes widened in realization.

"Oh, Gods— the absolute cheek of that tosser!" Ginny exclaimed, referring to her brother's crass comment and sounding much like her mother.

"I wouldn't expect anything less of him." I sighed, "If anything, I'm annoyed with Harry for telling them. Gossipy little twerp." I muttered before announcing the password to the Fat Lady and yanking her portrait wide open— rapidly bounding up towards our dorm rooms to get everything together.

Once in the room, the three of us sprawled out our ball gowns and accessories over the plush mattresses of the four-poster beds and took turns showering before we had to help each other with hair and makeup. 

Embarrassingly, I was planning on wearing the satin ivory set I had bought at Victoria's Secret tonight. 

Especially after Cedric made it so apparent that we would spend the night together.

I hadn't told anyone about this despite Fred's teasing earlier. It felt good to have it be a private matter and not reduced to gossip.

So I quickly put it on and admired how sensually it adorned my body, accentuating my curves alluringly as the delicate fabric clung to me. 

I gawked at myself in the bathroom mirror, never having felt sexier in my life, before shrugging on my bathrobe quickly before anybody walked in on me and saw me in lingerie— which would've definitely raised suspicion.

When I rejoined my friends in the dorm room, I found Hermione lying on her bed as Ginny brushed soft-pink, shimmery eyeshadow on her eyelids.

"So you two haven't kissed yet?" murmured Ginny lowly as she rummaged through her makeup bag for blush. 

"Of course, we haven't! We've barely exchanged a few words with each other. There's a language barrier, so communicating takes us a while. Last night, we spoke about his Quidditch and about books we enjoy... but that was it, really..." 

"Would you kiss him tonight?" I asked, looking at my timid friend through our vanity mirror as I towel-dried my hair.

"Oh, I don't know... If it feels right," Hermione admitted softly, her voice quivering. Ginny and I grinned at each other as we swooned over how adorable Hermione was.

As the minutes passed, other voices could be heard in the tower, and the Gryffindor girls started pouring inside their dorm rooms and bathrooms to prepare for the ball.

I overheard arguments beginning to transpire as my housemates bickered over how long they were waiting for each other to get out of the shower, and I felt grateful that we started getting ready as early as we did.

Before I knew it, dusk fell and I was standing at the top of the girls' staircase— wearing my perfectly fitted ball gown complimented by the sparkly earrings and luxurious, golden chandelier necklace I had purchased at Gladrags.

I felt unreasonably nervous as I shifted my weight on my stilettos, waiting for Ginny and Hermione to put the finishing touches on their looks.

It didn't help that many of the girls would ogle as they passed by me to get downstairs to meet their dates. 

It made me strangely self-conscious, even though I knew I looked impeccable. 

Ginny styled my hair perfectly, with loose curls that cascaded over my shoulders. A plaited braid tied the hair away from the front of my face, which presented the smokey, seductive makeup look she did on me. The look consisted of hues of brown and sheer golden eye shadow that made my eyes look sultry and hypnotizing. She then paired the elegant look with dark rose lipstick— the same shade as my dress.

There wasn't a hair out of place to me. If anything, I felt slightly overdressed than the other girls, but I decided not to overthink it because I knew Cedric would see me and think I was the most gorgeous thing he ever laid eyes on, and that's all that mattered to me.

"Oh, (Y/N)! Look at you!" Hermione cried softly, and I turned around to find my beautiful friend clutching her face in awe as she admired me. 

There is something so bizarre about seeing your friends dressed stylishly in a school setting. 

And seeing Hermione in the dress we picked out at Gladrags, only this time with her tidied curls and made-up face, nearly brought tears to my eyes.

"You look so pretty, 'Mione!" I cooed, immediately pulling her into an embrace, which she returned enthusiastically by squeezing me tightly.

Ginny appeared behind her, seeming proud of the looks she did on us. Luckily, she had the time to work her magic on herself. She styled her hair straight but wrapped two braids around her head like a crown. She kept her makeup simple, just as she did with Hermione, with a slight tint of peachy-pink lipstick and blush.

"Don't go spoiling my hard work, now," Ginny scolded us playfully as we turned to hug her. We all giggled, buzzing with excitement as we finally went downstairs to join the others.

The Common Room looked strange when it was full of people wearing a variety of colors instead of the usual masses of black school robes. 

All the Gryffindors were slowly exiting the tower to head to the Great Hall.

As expected, the boys were already gathered by the fireplace, waiting on us.

Each of them looked undeniably handsome.

Harry had on the dark green robes that Mrs.Weasley purchased for him over the summer, which indeed brought out the color of his eyes. I was impressed to see that he seemed to have actually combed his hair for the occasion— it looked less tousled than usual.

Fred and George were wearing what were clearly second-hand dress robes draped over their matching brown vests. Instead of the traditional bowtie, each twin sported a dark-colored, thick corduroy ribbon, which suited them well.

Neville, Dean, and Seamus wore black dress robes with a black silk vest underneath. Their white dress shirts contrasted with their bowties' dark colors, and each looked nicely groomed and put together. 

And then there was Ron. 

There was no getting around the fact that his robes looked more like a dress than anything else. 

In a desperate attempt to save face, it seemed like he decided to use a Severing Charm on the ruff and cuffs, and it worked reasonably well because at least his dress robes were now mostly lace-free. However, he hadn't done an impeccable job because the edges still looked depressingly frayed. 

We got a good look at the boys before they even laid eyes on us. I watched as Ron nervously pulled stray threads out of his cuffs, his blue eyes scanning the room as he stood lankily beside Harry.

"Merlin, have mercy on us..." Fred murmured, being the first one to notice us. He had his tongue in cheek, grasping onto his typical humorous undertone, but the indiscretion in his gaze was serious as his eyes trailed up my figure.

I rolled my eyes, turning away from him slightly in embarrassment as I suddenly felt rather exposed in the expensive, crimson-red gown's low-cut neckline and skin-tight material.

"You ready?" I asked Harry, who was wiping the lens of his circular eyeglasses on his dress shirt.

"Er, not really..." he mumbled shyly, putting his glasses back on and shrugging when I frowned, "I'm just not looking forward to that opening dance."

"I feel bad for you if you're going to let a stupid opening dance ruin your night. You're going with Cho Chang! What could you possibly complain about?" 

Harry smiled coyly, nodding in silent agreement as a scarlet tint blushed his priorly pale cheeks. 

Next to him, Ron was admiring me with parted lips and adoring dopey eyes. His hands were buried deep in his black dress pants pockets, and the ruffles on the lapels of his antiquated dress robes rose and fell quickly as his breathing became heavy.

Behind him, Parvati was waiting at the foot of the stairs, seeming uncomfortable as she watched Ron gawk at me. She looked very pretty, in robes of vibrant pink, with long, dark hair braided with gold and shimmering bracelets glimmering at her wrists. 

"Parvati, you look amazing," I complimented her earnestly. 

She smiled at me bashfully, and Ron seemed to wake from his trance as he finally noticed his date waiting for him. 

He sauntered over to her awkwardly, giving her a tight smile.

Lavender, Angelina, Ginny, Katie, and Alicia paired off with their boys, and we all set off towards the Entrance Hall, where Cho, Viktor, and Cedric were waiting on Harry, Hermione, and me.

Walking on the castle's marble floors with heels on was something so foreign that I appreciated Harry's chivalry for offering his arms for Hermione and me to cling onto. 

Ron had tried to be the one to help— having discourteously let go of Parvati to get to me, but Harry was closer, and it only made everything more uncomfortable between Ron and his date. 

When we rounded the corner to walk down the stairs towards the Entrance Hall, we saw just how packed it was with students, all milling around waiting for eight o'clock to strike, which was when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open. 

The people who were meeting partners from different Houses were seen edging through the flock, trying to find one another.

I scanned the room for Cedric, and when I finally spotted him pushing through the crowd to get to me, I let go of Harry and started walking down the staircase hastily—holding onto the barricade as my heart thumped harder in my chest with every eager step. 

Soon, Cedric was within arm's reach, and he surprised me by wrapping his hands around my waist. He then proceeded to pick me up and spin me around instantly. 

I laughed giddily— clutching onto his shoulders tightly as the hem of my gown and his dress robes whirled around us.

We had caught the room's attention by the moment he put me back down, but we remained wrapped in each other's arms.

Cedric looked strikingly handsome— his black dress robes were made of a refined, silky material that matched his bowtie. His look was sophisticated and resembled a classic tuxedo.

"I'm the luckiest guy here," Cedric murmured, his grey eyes soaking me up as his hands ran up and down my sides lovingly.

"And I'm the luckiest girl, you look soo good," I gushed, reaching up to cup his face in my hand.

Beside us, Harry and Cho had approached each other timidly.

"You— er— look nice," I heard Harry say stiffly.

"Thanks," Cho replied distractedly, her covetous gaze on Cedric and me before turning to Harry with a polite smile. 

It was then that a group of Slytherins emerged from their dungeon, with Draco Malfoy leading in the front. 

He wore black velvet dress robes with a high collar, making him look like a vicar. His dress shirt and bowtie were all white, washing him out and making him look paler than usual. 

Clutching onto his arm was Pansy Parkinson, wearing the same emerald dress I had tried on at Gladrags, and behind them were Crabbe and Goyle, both wearing green and resembling moss-colored boulders. Neither of them seemed to have managed to find a partner, which wasn't astonishing in the slightest.

Blaise and Theodore strolled into the room coolly soon after. 

They looked attractive in their tailored robes, but I still disliked the arrogance in their demeanor as they boredly glanced around the room and completely ignored their dates, who were both Slytherin girls whose names I didn't know.

"Look at that," Cedric brought my attention to the window next to us that overlooked the lawn right in front of the castle. 

It had been transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights— meaning hundreds of actual living fairies were sitting in the rosebushes that had been conjured there and fluttering over the statues of what seemed to be Father Christmas and his reindeer.

"That's gorgeous," I sighed, resting my head on Cedric's shoulder. He hummed in agreement, pressing his lips sweetly to the top of my head. 

"Champions over here, please!" Professor McGonagall called us over towards the big oak doors of the Great Hall, and Cedric intertwined our fingers and led us to meet the others.

When we arrived, Fleur Delacour was already standing next to Professor McGonagall, looking marvelous in silver-gray satin robes. He was accompanied by Roger Davies, who looked flustered—he could not believe his good fortune of being Fleur's date.

"Oh, mon Dieu! (Y/N), you look absolutee divine!" Fleur gasped, pressing a hand on her chest delicately.

"Thank you, Fleur. You look great!" I grinned appreciatively.

Roger and Cedric shook hands politely while Cho, Harry, Viktor, and Hermione approached next.

Hermione was smiling rather nervously beside Krum, who was brooding, as usual. On occasion, Viktor would peer over at Hermione, and his features would soften—which I thought was very cute, and I made a mental note to tell her about it later.

With a grandiose wave of Professor McGonagall's wand, the large wooden doors of The Great Hall opened, but she had us wait until all of the other students entered before giving us any further instructions. 

Viktor's fan club from the library stalked past us, throwing Hermione looks of most profound loathing. 

Pansy Parkinson gaped at me as she walked by with Draco, who faltered in his step as his icy eyes seized me up. 

Our Gryffindor friends entered the Great Hall next. Ron slouched beside Parvati glumly. Neville enthusiastically spoke to Ginny while she listened intently to whatever he was saying, and the twins winked at us as they passed—their arms draped around their dates while wearing shit-eating grins. 

"Now, you are all to enter the Great Hall in procession right after the last of the students have taken their seats, and Professor Dumbledore has given his introduction. Miss Delacour, you and Mr. Davies will take the lead. Miss Granger and Mr. Krum, you will be next..." Professor McGonagall spoke as she moved us around in a single file line. Cedric and I were to enter right behind Hermione and Krum while Harry and Cho followed right after us. 

We waited for Professor Dumbledore's muffled voice to beckon us in, and at Professor McGonagall's signal— we were all soon stepping into the Great Hall, where everyone was on their feet, cheering boisterously and clapping for us. 

I knew that the cheers were directed towards the Champions, but there was an exhilaration that came with the honor of having an entire room praise you. 

While glancing around the room, I was greeted with numerous smiling faces, in addition to the typical entranced looks I was so used to getting from boys.

Around us, the walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. 

The House tables had all vanished, and instead, there were about a hundred smaller, candle-lit ones, each seating about a dozen students.

Professor McGonagall escorted us past all these tables and onto the bright dance floor, where we were to perform the dreaded opening dance.

We took our positions with Cedric's right hand on my waist and the other raised and clutching onto mine.

I steadied myself by grasping onto his shoulder as I anxiously scanned the room. 

It was then that I became very aware of how sweaty my hand was against Cedric's and even more aware of everybody's eyes on us.

It had been easy to downplay the dance earlier when Harry was fretting about it, but now that the moment had arrived— I understood his apprehension. 

"Hey. I'm right here, darling. I've got you." Cedric reassured soothingly, sensing my nerves and squeezing my hand tightly in his.

When my eyes met his, I instantly felt at ease— the perturbation vanishing into thin air as if his consolation were my antidote. 

It was miraculous how he could assuage me with a mere look and a few words.

I nodded firmly, taking in a deep breath just as Professor Flitwick tapped his baton on his stand to begin directing the small ensemble that was the Hogwarts orchestra.

Soon, the gentle first notes of Tchaikovsky's 'The Nutcracker, Op. 71 started to play, and we initiated the choreography steps just as we had rehearsed them many times before.

Cedric led the dance as we slowly revolved on the spot to the romantic, tender waltz—the sound of flutes and cymbals bouncing off the walls as we held on to each other's eyes. His lips parted, his pupils blown wide as he gazed down at me.

Nothing else mattered to me anymore. 

The attention did not encompass us or the rest of the dance routine—it came to us instinctively, as if our bodies were in sync and we were improvising the dance on the spot. 

All I knew was that this precise moment was paradise, and I wanted to remember every intricate detail.

The way my hand fit in his.

The familiar smell of his own personal scent tinged with his favorite cologne.

The warmth that filled his eyes whenever he'd look at me.

Cedric's beauty was so unparalleled it was almost devastating. 

I let him overpower all my senses to keep this memory for my lifetime. 

The waltz's tempo picked up to a dramatic flourish, and with every crescendo of the violins— Cedric would spin me around in delicate pirouettes like a ballet dancer in a music box. 

I barely caught a glimpse of Professor Flitwick's baton swishing faster as the music built up, the room spinning past me quicker and quicker with every elegant turn I made. 

And then the music exploded to the waltzes' climax. Cedric raised me up, his hands wrapped around my waist as he lifted me into the air and twirled me on the spot— eliciting a gasp from the audience at the synchronization of the Champions' dance number.

I gripped Cedric's shoulders for leverage, my heart beating furiously as I watched his chest heave and his grey eyes praise me as if I had crafted the stars above us myself.

He brought me down slowly, pulling me closer to him and taking my hand once more as we neared the end of our dance— the growing passion between us becoming more absorbing by the second. 

Despite the hundreds of people surrounding us, I felt alone in this room with him. 

My heart kept swelling in my chest, and it didn't take long before I realized I was utterly in love with Cedric Diggory. 

And my love for him consumed me.

Just as the music reached its' last few soft, romantic notes— Cedric leaned down to rest his forehead against my own, and I felt his sweet, warm breath on my face. 

I was so overwhelmed at that moment that I could've shed tears because I wanted it to last forever.

The only thing that could've made it any more perfect would be reaching up to kiss Cedric's saccharine lips, but I had caught sight of Professor Dumbledore from the corner of my eye— making me realize where we were, so I took my head out of the clouds and decided against it.

Cedric was evidently thinking the same thing but didn't seem to care about whose presence we were in because as soon as the waltz had ended, he leaned down, and our lips met briefly.

It was just a tiny peck, but it was enough to trigger the constant primal flight reaction he gave me. It felt like a massive inundation of adrenaline that swept through me like a drug and made me feel profoundly alive.

The Great Hall broke into cheers of admiration, pulling me back to the present. A rupture of applause had us Triwizard couples bowing and curtsying before we turned towards the top table where we were to sit for supper.

"Our Triwizard Champions, everybody!" Professor Dumbledore exclaimed, and the cheers got increasingly louder.

Dumbledore beamed happily at us as we began taking our seats— Headmaster Karkaroff and Madame Maxine sitting on either side of him.

I was surprised to see Karkaroff wear an expression of remarkable interest as he watched Cedric and I draw nearer. 

Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing lavender silk gown, applauded us politely and immediately praised Fleur in exuberant French as she sat beside her Headmistress.

When Cedric and I sat down in front of our glittering golden plates, no food was served, but small menus were placed in front of each of us. 

We picked them up with uncertainty and looked around for someone to take our orders, but there were no waiters. 

Professor Dumbledore, however, looked carefully down at his own menu and then said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops!"

And just like that, pork chops appeared. 

Getting the idea, the rest of the table began placing their orders to their plates, too. 

"Hm... roast beef?" Cedric asked politely, leaning forward and speaking into his plate, which, in a blink, was full of the most exquisite serving of roast beef I've ever seen. 

"Would you look at that, angel? Roast beef," Cedric murmured delightedly.

"I can see that," I spoke through giggles, watching him in fascination as he raised his goblet, mulling over his first drink of the night handsomely.

The flickering candlelight only defined his already chiseled features— accentuating his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. 

He looked as if he were sculpted by angels.

"Red wine, please," he finally decided, and the cup was soon filled with the maroon liquid.

"Go on, love. Speak to your dinnerware," Cedric urged humor in his tone over how bizarre the sentence he had spoken sounded. 

Humming inquisitively, I scanned the menu and chose the creamy rigatoni pasta with sausage and sun-dried tomatoes.

I hesitantly conjured it up, and when it popped up on my plate, I couldn't help but gasp in pure fascination— making Cedric chuckle giddily beside me.

"I fucking love magic," I commended as I picked up my utensils to eat.

To my right, Harry and Cho shared an uncomfortable silence as they ate their dinner.

Occasionally, Harry would peer over at Cho and offer her a meek smile, but he'd immediately look away— red splotches forming on his cheeks.

"Wonder how Hermione feels about this complicated method of dining. Surely it's plenty of extra work for the House Elves?" Harry muttered to me when he noticed me looking— relieved to converse with somebody to distract himself from the stiff tension he was having with his date.

We turned to look at Hermione, half expecting her to be defiant towards her supper, but for once, she didn't seem to be thinking about S.P.E.W. 

Instead, she was in deep conversation with Viktor Krum and hardly noticed what she was eating.

Not wanting to isolate Cedric from our conversation, I nudged him gently and jutted my chin towards Hermione and Krum while we fell silent to overhear their conversation.

"Veil, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," Krum was telling Hermione rather enthusiastically, "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these— though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them, Hermy-own."

"Her-my-oh-nee," she pronunciated very slowly and clearly. 

"Herm-own-ninny," Viktor replied ploddingly.

"Close enough," Hermione said with a shrug, catching our eyes and grinning. 

"No, she doesn't seem to mind about S.P.E.W right now at all," I teased— making Cedric and Harry laugh brightly as they nodded in agreement.

"Spew? Sorry?" a shrill voice asked. I realized that Cho was the one inquiring, with her eyebrows pulled together in disdain.

"Oh, er—" Harry began blundering, almost as if he had forgotten she was there to begin with. "It stands for Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. Hermione formed like an... alliance in favor of the Hogwarts House-Elves." 

"That sounds pointless," Cho stated, scoffing a tiny laugh. "I mean, that's what they're there for, right? To work? They like it."

Although I didn't have a fiery passion in my heart for S.P.E.W like Hermione did, I felt a compelling urge to defend our little association once hearing Cho ridicule Hermione's beliefs regarding the House Elves.

Hermione had put hard work into S.P.E.W, and I didn't think Cho had any right to mock it, despite any personal opinion she might've had.

Noticing my subtle vexation, Cedric cleared his throat uncomfortably before speaking up.

"Well... we're all members of S.P.E.W, Cho... We've got pins and everything," he explained, giving her an amiable grin that momentarily made me forget what we were even talking about.

"Oh! Well, that's... wicked fun! I was only joking, by the way... I'd love to join!" Cho deferred, just as captivated by Cedric as I was— but he simply gave her a tight smile, much like Ron did when approaching Parvati earlier, and let the conversation drop. 

The rest of our dinner went by wonderfully.

Professor Flitwick continued conducting the Hogwarts Orchestra, who now performed string quartet instrumentals of known love songs.

Eventually, everyone in the Great Hall had finished their meal, so when the time came to enjoy dessert— the same previous method was to be performed with the brand new menu that gave us our sugary options.

I ordered a cheesecake, and Cedric ordered a chocolate caramel tart—and we enjoyed them as he told me about how the Hufflepuff Quidditch team was planning on making the necessary arrangements to organize a friendly match with the other House teams since the games were canceled this year because of the Tournament.

He had taken a quick bite of his tart and chewed intently before continuing his explanation of the Quidditch preparations when I interrupted him by giggling endearingly because he had a tiny bit of caramel peeking from the corner of his lip.

"What? Do I have food on my face?" Cedric asked, his expression alarmed as he started wiping at the opposite side of his mouth from where the caramel was.

"You do, actually," I cooed and reached out to swipe the candy off with my thumb.

Cedric then took advantage of the proximity of my thumb to pop it into his mouth, sucking it gently, which sent me into a laughing fit as I tried to pull away.

"You looked sweeter than the tart," Cedric explained cheekily once I got my thumb back and leaned forward to plant a big kiss on my cheek. 

Meanwhile, Fleur was criticizing the Hogwarts decorations to Roger Davies a few seats down.

"Zis is nothing," she said dismissively, looking around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. "At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course... zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs, 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of zis ugly armor in ze 'alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like zat." she stated as she slapped her hand onto the table impatiently.

Roger Davies was watching her talk with an idiotic look on his face, and he kept missing his mouth with his fork. 

I had the impression that Roger was too busy gaping at Fleur to take in a single word she was saying.

"Absolutely right," he said quickly, slapping his own hand down on the table in imitation of Fleur. "Like that. Yeah."

I watched this play out as I told Cedric about my education before Hogwarts.

Ced watched me with grave interest— clinging onto my every word and seemingly comprehending all of it, unlike Roger.

Frankly, I felt alleviated because even though Veela blood coursed through mine and Fleur's veins— I was fortunate enough to find a guy whose interests transcended past my looks.

I felt terrible for Fleur, but she seemed pretty accustomed to it.

"Doesn't America have Ivermory, though? Why didn't you enroll there?" Cedric asked curiously.

"I wanted to— I did. When I discovered it was the next best thing after Hogwarts, I begged my mom to let me study there. But Ivermory was too expensive for us... and a bit elitist since America is so massive compared to the United Kingdom. They didn't allow just anyone in. So, instead, I was homeschooled to complete my Muggle education — which is a requirement by law in the states. Simultaneously, I would meet with a wizard who would teach me to repress my magic. I had just finished all of my studies when Dumbledore showed up to get me to study here," 

"And I thank my lucky stars every day," Cedric murmured, his eyes peering down at me adoringly as he wrapped an arm around me to pull me closer— gently kissing my exposed shoulder. 

Heat rushed onto my cheeks at the affection, as I was still getting acclimated to Cedric's comfort with displaying public affection.

When all the food had been consumed, Professor Dumbledore stood up and asked the students who weren't sitting at the Top Table to do the same. 

Then, with a swish of his wand, most of the smaller tables zoomed back against the walls— leaving a few scattered around the Great Hall in order for more of the floor to be cleared for dancing. 

The only table that remained intact was our table, where the Champions, their dates, their Headmasters, and the rest of the Hogwarts staff sat.

There was a brief silence, during which all that could be heard was the curious chattering of the students as they stood awkwardly against the wall. Soon, The Weird Sisters trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause. 

They were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. 

I watched with grave interest as the band picked up their instruments and began playing their first song of the night, which sounded a lot like Crimson and Clover by Tommy James and the Shondells.

"Wanna dance?" Cedric grinned broadly, and since I wanted to make the most of our night— I instantly agreed.

All of the Champions and their dates got onto the dance floor, whether of their own volition, like Cedric and me, or because McGonagall pressured them to do so—which I felt was Harry's case.

Once again, we were the only four couples on the dance floor, which would've made me nervous if I hadn't been eased by the sweet peach wine I drank earlier with my dinner.

I understood the appeal of The Weird Sisters, a rock band with influential undertones reminiscent of Pulp and Radiohead. 

Soon, many other students had mustered up the courage to get onto the dance floor, so the Champions were no longer the center of attention. 

Ginny and Neville were dancing nearby while the Weird Sisters performed a cover of the French song 'Aline,' and I could see Ginny frequently wincing as Neville accidentally trodded on her feet.

Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime and was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin. However, I was impressed by how gracefully she moved for a woman so large.

Soon, the band's ballad turned into a punky, upbeat song titled 'Do the Hippogriff,' which caused a riot among the students. 

"Alright, Hogwarts! Are you ready for some real music?" the lead singer yelled into the mic, eliciting screams from the entire crowd at his feet. 

"C'mon, I want to see your hands in the air! This is our last song of the night before your Professors resort to playing you their show tunes!" the singer continued, now drawing boos from the students.

Then, the song's fast tempo was initiated, and I watched in awe as my peers went crazy.

Fred and Angelina were dancing so exuberantly that people around them were backing away in fear of injury.

Beside them, George and Katie were head-banging so vigorously and flapping their arms like Hippogriff wings.

But Cedric, who had let loose and started jumping quite out of rhythm to the music, his chestnut locks flying unruly, caught me off-guard.

"What?" he asked breathlessly as he watched me suppress my laughter as I held onto his hand.

"I finally found something you're not good at!" I exclaimed over the loud music— my amusement growing when Cedric's jaw dropped in mock offense.

"How could you say that with those two on the dancefloor? Huh?" Cedric asked, his eyes pointing towards the Weasley twins, who were now break-dancing pretty horribly while Angelina and Katie cheered them on.

"You do have a point... Forgive me?"

Cedric sucked in air through his teeth, and his eyebrows knitted together— as if he were debating whether to forgive me or not.

"I don't know if I can," he joked, the corner of his lips twisting up to a smirk as he wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling me closer to him.

"I'm begging you to reconsider. I take back what I said— you're allowed to dance as foolishly as you'd like," I pouted, offering him the biggest puppy eyes I could muster.

Cedric broke into a big, goofy smile as he peered down at me.

"Fine, but only if you dance just as foolishly with me," 

"Deal," I agreed as I stuck my hand out, which he shook firmly as if we had just made a business transaction, "but I am going to need a drink first."

"Coming right up," Cedric chimed, his hands nestling my face as he leaned to kiss me leisurely. His warm lips glided over mine for a few passing seconds before he left me flustered and faint.

I stepped down from the platformed dance floor, taking fixed breaths to steady my erratic heart.

As I looked around the Great Hall, I saw many people sitting down, which made me pity them for all the fun they were missing out on.

Far off in a corner, Draco Malfoy and his friends watched everyone else snidely— as if they were far too prestigious to even consider dancing.

Ron was also sitting down with Parvati. She was speaking to him, but Ron wasn't paying attention to whatever she was saying because he was too busy glaring at me, which took me aback.

When the Weird Sisters had finished their set— everybody cheered them on and begged for an encore, but they still exited the stage despite the students' protests. 

In turn, Professor Flitwick marched up the stage holding a vinyl record, seeming to have renounced the title of band conductor for the night and been assigned the role of DJ.

We all watched uncertainly as he put the record on, unsure of his music selection, but when 'Ballroom Blitz' by Sweet started playing, everyone cheered with approval and started dancing again.

"Let's sit down, shall we?" I overheard Harry say to Cho, who was holding onto his hand and attempting to get him to stay on the dance floor.

"Oh, but— this is a really good one!" she tried to persuade him.

"Er, no, I don't like it," Harry lied. I knew he did because we listened to it a lot over the summer.

With lucky timing, a friend of Cho's invited her to dance— if you could even call it that since the student body was now tipsy and energetic as they aimlessly bounced around the dance floor. One of the Weasley twins even started to stage dive.

Wanting to join in on the fun, Cho gave Harry a little apologetic smile, leaving him staring hopelessly after her and then glumly walking back towards the table where Ron and Parvati were sitting.

I strode over to them just as Harry was opening a bottle of Butterbeer— taking a seat right next to him.

"What is wrong with you?" I hissed as Harry was downing his drink.

"Wha—?" he asked, puzzled with a mouthful of beer.

"You've been drooling over Cho Chang since last year, and now you've got her! Why aren't you conversing with her and showing her a good time? After all the trouble you went through to muster up the courage to get her to go with you, you're gonna ignore her now? Seriously!?"

"I don't have her; she's been staring at you and Cedric all night," Harry snapped back, his green eyes accusingly squinting at me.

I fell silent because I noticed it, too, but when I realized that I had no fault in this, I continued to argue with him in my defense.

"So? Does that mean you must spend the entire night in awkward silence and belligerent dancing? You're a great guy, Harry. Show her that! She is just as lucky to have you as her date as you are to have her." 

Harry didn't retort but simply grumbled into his drink, and I knew the conversation would end there.

Besides him, Ron was furiously staring off into space as Parvati sat beside him with her arms and legs crossed— one foot jiggling in rhythm with the music. 

Now and then, she'd throw a disgruntled look at Ron, who was completely disregarding her.

I reached over to pinch Ron in the arm and decided it was his turn to get a scolding.

"Ouch! What was that for?" Ron exclaimed, rubbing the spot where I had pinched him.

"And you? What's your deal, then?" I confronted him, raising an eyebrow.

He stared at me sternly, eyebrows knit together as his blue eyes roamed my face. I responded by tilting my head towards Parvati, who was gazing longingly at the dancefloor.

"Well, that's just none of your business," he muttered before turning away from me defiantly.

I rolled my eyes just as Hermione joined us— her face flaming red and sweaty as she fanned herself with her hands.

"It's so hot in here, isn't it? Viktor's gone to go and get some drinks. Would you care to join us?" 

Ron gave her a withering look. 

"Viktor?" he asked. 

"Yes?" Hermione replied, her voice raising in surprise. 

"Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"

Hermione gave him a look of pure confusion— her eyes flickering over to Harry and me as if to confirm if Ron was being serious or not.

"What's up with you?" she questioned when she noticed me glowering at him because of his sour mood.

"How could you not tell me?" snapped Ron scathingly, "he's my favorite Quidditch player, and you didn't tell me! I thought we were friends!" 

Now, I was just as bewildered as Hermione. We both looked at Harry for answers, but he simply shrugged.

"Ron, what— ?" I scoffed.

"She could've at least told me! But instead, we had to find out the day of the ball. It's senseless!" spat Ron. 

Hermione was lost for words, gaping her mouth open and shut like a fish out of water as she struggled with what to say.

"I'm sorry..." she said after a moment, her voice quivering as she was clearly attempting to control her anger. "What would make it better, Ron? An autograph? Maybe I'll have him sign that model of him up in your dormitory?"

"Shut up," Ron mumbled, choosing to ignore Hermione's ridicule.

"You need to control yourself, Ronald," she warned as she jabbed a finger at him. Stop projecting your anger toward your friends and figure out what you're really upset about." Hermione said this, glancing at me briefly before storming off across the room and disappearing into the crowd.

The air was tense as we were left stunned and silent.

Hermione made it clear that Ron was lashing out at everyone because he was upset about something else, and it was pretty obvious what he was irritated about.

I mean, he had been shooting daggers with his eyes at Cedric and me the entire night.

Ron peered at me sheepishly, but I broke eye contact, not wanting to bring attention to Ron's feelings toward me tonight.

All I wanted was to get back to enjoying my evening with Cedric.

"Are you going to ask me to dance at all?" Parvati asked Ron, having gotten fed up with our drama.

"No," replied Ron flatly, his rude attitude returning.

"Fine," seethed Parvati, and she got up to join her sister, who was in the company of an entire crew of Durmstrang boys who had no dates and were eager to dance.

"I'm going to go find Ced," I informed Harry and rose to my feet.

"Alright," he replied boredly.

"You should go find Cho," I advised him, and this time, he seemed more susceptible to my suggestion because he nodded and scanned the room for her.

It seemed like Ron's loss of his date, warranted by his bad temper, awoke something in Harry, who had a lot more to lose if his crush got bored of him and found someone else.

It wasn't long after that I had seen Harry approaching Cho more confidently— the both of them falling into a dance that seemed more cosy than the ones they shared before.

"Vare is Herm-own-ninny?" asked someone behind me, pulling me away from my thoughts.

Viktor Krum stood grimly, clutching two cold Butterbeers in his hands.

"I was just with her— I think she went to the top table to look for you. Have you seen Cedric?" I asked, eyeing the drinks and wondering if they'd bumped into each other.

"No. Veil, if you see her, tell her I haff drinks," Krum said and slouched off.

I glanced at the top table, which was now empty. Professor Dumbledore was dancing with Professor Sprout, Ludo Bagman with Professor McGonagall, and Madame Maxime with Hagrid—the gigantic pair cutting a wide path around the dance floor as they waltzed through the students.

I continued to weave through dozens of people in search of Cedric, who was nowhere to be found.

I thought he'd be at the bar, but when I got there, I only saw a House Elf frantically serving drinks to a nagging group of students.

I grabbed a flute of champagne that looked unclaimed for and set off to continue searching for my missing date when I heard a voice I, unfortunately, knew too well directed towards me. 

"You look beautiful tonight," 

I sighed privately before turning on my heel to look at Draco, who was languidly leaning against the bar with what seemed to be a whiskey in hand.

"Thank you," I replied dully, meaning to walk away just then but staying instead for a reason unknown to me. 

"You look like a vicar," I added, taking a sip from my champagne.

Draco let out a genuine laugh. 

One that startled me because the last time I'd seen him laugh like this was the night at the Courtyard the year prior.

I watched him with vivacity as he grinned with teeth, shaking his head at my joke.

"Well, that's not a terrible thing," was all he said after his laugh.

"Suppose not," I responded dryly.

"No, but really, (Y/N)... You look gorgeous. So gorgeous that if you were my date, I wouldn't dream of losing sight of you. I don't think I'd be able to look away." 

I stood there stiffly, trying to ignore the tiny hairs at the back of my neck that were rising as his eyes drank me up.

"Um, thanks..." was all I could say, finishing the last of the champagne and hoping its effects would influence me soon.

He was going to say something else when Headmaster Karkaroff joined us.

"Mr. Malfoy," he greeted Draco leerily. I was surprised to see how Draco tensed up—standing rigidly straight on his feet as his eyes broke away from me to look at his shiny, black dress shoes.

"Good evening, Headmaster," Draco murmured respectfully.

"How are you enjoying yourself?" Karkaroff asked, his dark eyes flickering between Draco and me.

I really wanted to leave now, but it felt impolite to do so.

"Fine. Thank you." Draco answered.

"Wonderful... do tell your father that I send my regards," 

My eyes instinctively widened.

We knew by now that Igor Karkaroff had been a  Death Eater because Sirius told us so, but this seemed to confirm it. 

I mean, we weren't sure if Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater himself, but after what Draco said at the World Cup, I feel like it'd be ridiculous not to assume so.

I tried to seem impassive as possible, but I made a mental note to tell Harry about this later.

"I will pass it on, Headmaster. Have a good night..." Draco said, glancing at me from the corner of his eye as he stalked off to the corner where Pansy and the rest of his friends were. 

I gave Karkaroff a polite smile before turning to walk away myself— but was stopped in place when he called after me.

"Miss (Y/L/N)?"

"Yes, Headmaster?" I asked cordially, walking back to him hesitantly as my heartbeat began to pick up its pace. 

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to keep you... but I have just been so curious. I can't help but notice an American accent, yes?"

"Oh! Yes, Headmaster. I transferred to Hogwarts from America last year. Professor Dumbledore proclaimed that I was far advanced regarding my magical abilities and offered me to expand my studies here." 

"How very... interesting. He doesn't do that often, Dumbledore. I mean, there must be many bright witches and wizards in America... Have you ever wondered why you?"

Something in his tone was strange, making it seem like he already knew the reasoning. 

And although his question seemed rhetorical, Karkaroff still waited for an answer.

"Oh, um... I suppose there are. I guess I just got very lucky..." 

"Very lucky, indeed... You remind me of somebody I used to know. An old friend. Exceptionally bright wizard. Tell me, is your surname paternal?"

"No, sir. Maternal. My mom raised me." 

"And your father?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," I replied shortly, his curiosity irking me as it hit dangerous waters that were too personal for me.

Karkaroff was sneering down at me as if there were an inside joke that he was sharing with himself— which made me outrageously uncomfortable.

As if by a saving grace, Cedric finally appeared with our two drinks at hand and nodded nobly at Karkaroff but kept cautious eyes on him.

"Very well," Karkaroff said, clapping his hands together. "I won't keep you two any longer. I wish you both a good night."

"Thank you." we both replied, and Cedric watched him walk off before turning to me.

"Was he bothering you?"

"No... he was just asking questions. Got those drinks?" I asked casually, trying to divert his attention from my odd conversation with Karkaroff, which I was still trying to process.

Cedric passed me my cold drink, which I downed immediately. I placed the empty glass on the bar's countertop and pulled him towards the dancefloor just as 'Super Freak' by Rick James started playing.

"Let's dance”

✩ next chapter: you feel like heaven ✩

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part 18)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

Birmingham - Three Weeks Later

It was around 8 o'clock when you arrived at Arrow House, wearing a floor-length black dress that showed off your curvaceous physique and accentuated your statuesque presence. The dress highlighted your luscious cleavage and revealed tantalising flashes of your smooth legs whenever you walked.

Accompanied by your new partner Robert, you were rather late as your baby-boy did not want to go to sleep without you rocking him in your arms. Leaving him with your maid, who had travelled with you from Boston, made you nervous but Robert reminded you that an event like the one tonight was not one to be shared with minors.

As such, when finally arriving at Arrow House, you already found the estate buzzing with activity - people talking excitedly about the impending nuptials of Tommy and Lizzie.

The grand old house seemed even more majestic now than you had remembered. There was music playing in the background, creating a romantic atmosphere for the forthcoming wedding ceremony which was something that made you feel conflicted. 

Out of all women in England, it was Lizzie who your uncle Tommy had chosen to marry and, whilst you knew why he had decided to tie the knot with this woman, you wished that he did not. 

With a hint of disgust on your mind, you glanced at your reflection in a nearby mirror, adjusting your hair slightly before heading towards the festivities.

Robert held your hand lightly, leading you across the marvelously decorated ballroom where guests sat sipping champagne and enjoying live jazz music played by a talented band onstage. Your heart ached for Tommy, wondering if this marriage would truly bring happiness to him after everything you two had experienced together. In truth, a small piece of you yearned for him, craving the chance to explore those undeniable connections between you.

But then, the other part of you felt nothing but hatred for the fact that he never wrote to you in the past twelve months.

Hadn't he ever missed you? Did you mean less to him than the woman he was about to marry? These questions circled endlessly in your mind, driving you mad while making you question whether keeping your memories alive was worth the pain. 

Although you had written twice to him, without a response, you knew that Tommy was unaware of the fact that you had his child and so was everyone else. Everyone but Ada. 

You also had not seen anyone but Ada until now and whilst your father had written letters of nothing to you twice a month, it was Linda who caused him to be estranged, adding even more complexities to your strained family ties.

Seeing him standing there now with his brother Tommy, in the distance, sent waves of mixed emotion through you and, usurpingly, on seeing you enter, the room went silent.

Tommy's gaze locked onto yours, a mixture of surprise and curiosity warring across his features.

Lizzie, on the other hand, appeared irritated by your arrival. Her brow furrowed in annoyance as she realized that another potential threat stood among the crowd. 

All eyes turned towards you as you approached the center of the room, radiating confidence in your sleek, high-slung black dress that hugged your curves perfectly. With each step taken, a sense of unease seemed to permeate the space, and the only sound heard was the heavy beat of your footsteps against the polished wooden floor.

Even amidst the chaos, you couldn't help but notice the way Tommy's gaze followed you relentlessly, like a predator studying its prey.

His hungry eyes bore into yours, sending shivers down your spine. The unspoken desire that flowed between you was palpable, nearly tangible. Lizzie's jealousy could be read clearly in her scowl directed your way, causing you to smile subtly to yourself as she noticed your acknowledgment.

Reaching Tommy's side, you greeted him coolly with a nod and a forced smile, determined not to let him see how affected you were by his magnetic pull even after twelve months of silence from him.

Glancing over at Lizzie, you offered her a polite yet detached nod as well, trying to maintain a neutral demeanor amidst the storm brewing within you before approaching her and her husband to be more closely.  

"Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials," you stated calmly, feigning indifference as you spoke. Lizzie's expression remained frosty, refusing to return your gesture. "Thank you," she responded coldly, turning away from you as quickly as possible while Tommy assessed your companion.

"Who is this?" Tommy asked, casting a skeptic glance toward you. His tone betrayed the uncertainty he harbored regarding your unexpected presence at his home, which was something he clearly knew nothing about.

"This is Robert. My partner," you introduced calmly, hiding any trace of lingering attraction towards Tommy behind a veneer of composure. Giving Lizzie a wary once-over, you continued, "He is a doctor, in Boston. We met at a charity event there," you then continued before allowing your father, Arthur, to give you a hug.

"A doctor, eh?" Arthur interjected, smiling politely, before introducing himself as Arthur Shelby, your father, to him.

In turn, Robert shook hands firmly with him, seeming eager to impress him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelby," he said, to which Arthur smiled approvingly, feeling impressed by the young man's enthusiasm while you, in turn, felt impressed by your father's attitude towards your newfound love. With his third child on the way, he had clearly softened a bit. 

Meanwhile, your attention shifted back to Tommy, whose focus returned to you. The intensity of his gaze sent chills down your spine, stirring feelings buried deep inside you.

"It must be serious if you bring him here, to fucking Birmingham, eh?" Tommy retorted sharply, eyeing both you and Robert suspiciously. His sarcastic words stung, triggering hurt and confusion. 

"For a matter of fact, it is. Robert asked me to marry him," you informed them casually, looking steadily at both Tommy and Lizzie, attempting to conceal the swell of anxiety building within you.

An awkward silence filled the air momentarily as your statement reverberated throughout the room. Tommy's face flushed red frustration.

"Is that true?" he snapped at Robert, challenging his credibility. "You proposed to her?" Tommy wanted to know, causing Robert to nod nervously.

"Yes, Mr, uhm, Shelby..." Robert began to say without a formal introduction, to which you informed him that his name was Tommy and that he was your uncle. 

"That explains things," Robert commented before silently acknowledging the fact that there were some incredible physical similarities between your son and your uncle Tommy. 

"Well, congratulations to you both!" Tommy exclaimed, raising his glass to salute you before taking a generous gulp of whiskey. However, you could tell that he was still struggling to process the news, his emotions bubbling beneath the surface. This wasn't what he expected or wanted, especially considering the tension simmering between you and Lizzie since you set foot into the hall. The last thing he needed right now was more drama, particularly involving someone connected to his beloved niece whom he secretly desired.

"Thank you, Uncle," you replied coldly as the tension grew thick around you and, luckily for you, it was at this point, that you were whisked away by your aunt Polly.

As you turned your back towards Tommy, his piercing eyes seemed to burn into you, leaving no doubt that he saw you differently compared to others present. The sight triggered powerful sensations within you that you struggled to control, prompting you to take a deep breath before joining Polly.

Walking beside you, Polly patted your arm comfortingly, noticing the slight tremble in your voice. As you stepped out into the hallway, she leaned closer, whispering softly in your ear, "it was me who sent the invitation."

The shock registered instantly upon your face, leaving you speechless for a brief moment. "Why?" you eventually managed to ask, confused by her decision, seeing that it was her who suggested you go to Boston in the first place. 

"Because Thomas has been making bad choices since you left," Polly confided earnestly, her eyes gleaming with concern. She took a steadying breath, continuing quietly, "There is such darkness in him these days and it worries me."

Your throat tightened with a mix of sympathy and anger and you wondered how much your absence affected him.

"Polly, you made him send me away and I started a new life, in Boston, with Robert now. I am happy," you lied before continuing on. "So, I am not here to fix Tommy for you," your lips formed a thin line, showing disapproval for Polly's attempt to change your fate.

"No, sweetheart. You won't need to. The existence of your son will do that," Polly explained gravely, pointing out that you having had a child with Tommy would naturally draw him back to reason. 

"You know about my son?" you demanded, surprised that Polly was aware of your baby's existence. It didn't escape your notice that she might have known all along, choosing to remain quiet about it, perhaps wanting to spare you further heartache during those early months when you hadn't heard anything from Tommy either.

Her eyes flashed with sorrow, and she gave a gentle nod.

"I knew that you were pregnant before you left Birmingham. It was one of the reasons I wanted you gone. But please don't think ill of me. I did what I thought best for everyone involved," Polly explained, her voice laced with regret. You listened carefully, trying to reconcile everything she told you tonight and how it tied together. Your head reeling with so many revelations and emotions flooding your system, your stomach clenched painfully.

"All you and Thomas ever thought about were these goddamn elections. This is why he is marrying Lizzie, isn't it? Because she had his daughter, and it would look bad for him if it was to be found out that he fathered a child with a career prostitute," you murmured aloud with anger and frustration.

"Yes. It was the plan all along until you came into the picture," she admitted sadly, confirming your suspicions. "Then he fell for you, and I should have let him, no matter the consequences," her voice cracked slightly, expressing regret over the mistakes they had made.

"He shot three men last night, without remorse, because of some feud with the Chinese. And, the illegal business activities are continuing after, just fourteen months ago, he was certain that, within the year, Shelby Company Limited would thrive from its legitimate business activities alone," Polly then went on to explain without giving you much context but the information was alarming enough to make you worry about what you were walking into.

"Like I said, I am not here to fix Tommy for you. You have to do that on your own," you insisted stubbornly, standing your ground against your aunt's manipulative plans. You weren't going to become part of another game you played second fiddle to the family's ambitions. That time had passed.

"Well then I can only hope that you continue to stay safe wherever you are because, clearly, you have no idea what Tommy is sending through to Boston next. It's not just fucking booze anymore," Polly muttered under her breath, her eyes searching yours with unspoken messages. 

"What do you mean?" you questioned cautiously, wondering where exactly the situation was heading. Your curiosity piqued, your fingers drummed impatiently against your side. "Is it snow?" you then asked, but she shook her head.

She paused briefly, deliberating whether or not to divulge sensitive information to you. But then, finally, she decided to trust you implicitly, understanding your resolve to live independently of the crime syndicate.

"It's opium, Love, and you need to watch your back," Polly revealed solemnly, grabbing your hand urgently.

A mixture of horror and disbelief spread across your features.

"Opium? What does Tommy want with opium?" You couldn't hide your fear and uncertainty about the implications. Opium trade brought immense danger to anyone associated with it, not just legally, but also socially. 

"Perhaps you should ask him yourself," Polly advised, although her tone indicated reluctance, likely knowing full well the outcome.

Feeling increasingly uneasy, you continued to walk alongside Polly, listening intently as she spoke candidly about your uncle's recent descent into what she called the "darkness" and how he was becoming even more dangerous than before. The thought terrified you, imagining Tommy turning against his very own kin, including himself. Yet, you also understood that people like Tommy couldn't simply cease being who they were born to be. 

They were products of their environments, trapped within their pasts, bound by chains woven from their ancestors' decisions. And yet, amidst the chaos and violence surrounding him, there was always something undeniably appealing about Tommy's brutish charm, a magnetism that drew you irresistibly toward him, awakening a hunger you didn't fully comprehend.

When you looked at Tommy, your eyes locked onto his deep blue gaze, a reflection of the storm brewing inside him and, later in the evening, with Robert mingling in the crowd, you decided to confront him.

Without hesitation, you sauntered towards him, the confidence you possessed radiating off every step you took.  

His attention immediately shifted to you, the intensity of his gaze burning hotter than before, sparking memories of countless steamy encounters shared. Despite his determination to ignore you, the connection between you two was undeniable as you spoke.

"A word, please," you requested casually, your voice deceptively calm as his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"If you want to discuss your wedding plans, Love, then I suggest you do this with Ada, not me, eh?" Tommy responded dismissively, attempting to brush you aside while focusing on assessing your partner Robert whom he clearly disapproved of. 

"I want to talk about business matters," you clarified steadfastly, determined to confront him directly. 

"My office then," Tommy agreed, leading you through the crowded ballroom filled with guests and servants, none of whom noticed you leaving together.

Once outside, however, the tension escalated palpably, causing both of you to exchange guarded glances. You felt an invisible force drawing you closer to him, a magnetic pull emanating from his raw masculinity which erupted completely as soon as you reached his chambers.

For a short moment, his eyes lingered on your form silently, absorbing every curve, every feature – your mouth, your neck, your hands… The room seemed to spin around you as he caressed your cheekbone gently, trailing downwards towards your shoulder.

Suddenly then, Tommy’s lips pressed firmly against yours, his tongue sweeping boldly into your mouth, catching you by surprise. 

Much to Tommy's surprise, however, you pushed him away forcefully and slapped him hard across the face.

"How fucking dare you!" you seethed, struggling to maintain composure, unable to believe his audacity.

Stunned, he stepped backward, holding his reddened cheek as if uncertain how to react.

"Twelve months it has been, Tommy! You pushed me away. I tried to call you. I have sent you two letters and I got nothing in return until Polly sent me this fucking invitation, to your fucking wedding!" Your voice trembled with rage, tears threatening to spill over as you expressed your disappointment. Your sudden explosion caught him entirely off-guard, revealing a vulnerability hidden beneath his swaggering facade.

Tommy stood silent for a few moments, unsure how to proceed or apologise for his behavior. His eyes darted nervously around the room, avoiding direct contact with yours, betraying his guilt.

Finally, he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Look, we both knew that this couldn't work. You are my fucking niece and I needed to distance myself from you," Tommy said and his voice held a hint of desperation, seeking forgiveness.

"Yes, and you did that, quite well if I may add. And now, I am with Robert and he is a good a man," you pointed out, raising your brow slightly, challenging him to argue otherwise. 

"A good man, eh?" Tommy chuckled dryly, his eyes piercing straight through you, exposing the truth behind his words. "Is that really what you want, Love? A good fucking man?" he wanted to know and you bit your lip in annoyance.

"Well, yes, a good man is better than a man who will put me and my son into danger," you retorted defiantly, crossing your arms resolutely in anger.

"Your what?" Tommy asked, shocked and confused about you mentioning a child, before carrying on. "I can't believe that, within a few months of you moving to fucking Boston, you let this fucking yank knock you up," Tommy spat angrily, thinking that it was Robert who had fathered your son. 

"Oh my god, Thomas..." you sighed heavily. "Robert isn't the father. I was already pregnant when I moved to Boston." There was a pause in your statement as you collected your thoughts, trying to discern how best to break this news to Tommy.

"But listen," you began slowly, feeling the weight of the secret growing heavier within you. "I didn't know at the time. I wanted to terminate, but it was too late. I was too far gone," you carried on and, as those words left your lips, you watched carefully for any change in expression on Tommy's face. 

"Fucking hell," he growled, rubbing his temples, evidently lost in thought.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter

[bingwriterxo]

the shakespeare exhibit - part 6

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which you invite tara over for dinner

warnings: smut, 18+ (minors DNI), fingering, cunnilingus

word count: 3600+

author's note: one of the longest pieces i've ever posted...

previous part | next part

Chad (4:10pm): wtm tn bois

Mindy (4:11pm): movie night @ t's place?

Anika (4:11pm): down

Ethan (4:12pm): sounds good! i'll bring snacks! :D

Tara (4:12pm): yea just invite urselves over why dont u

Tara looked up from her phone, glaring at Mindy from across the living room. "Who says I'm free tonight?"

Mindy scoffed. "Please. We all know Y/N has been visiting her parents this weekend because you won't stop whining about how much you miss her, and who else do you hang out with?"

"I do not whine!" Right? Tara thought. Right. "And I have other friends!"

"Oh yeah?" Mindy raised an eyebrow. "Who? Name them right now."

"Uh..." Tara furrowed her eyebrows. Does Sam count? "Oh! Quinn, obviously."

"She doesn't count! She's friends with all of us!" Mindy chuckled, shaking her head. "Face it, T--you've got us and you've got Y/N, and with Y/N gone, we all know you're not doing jack shit tonight."

Tara huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I fucking hate you."

"Don't hate the player," Mindy said, holding her hands up in surrender. "Hate the game."

"Oh, I'll hate the player, because the player's a pain in my ass--" The rapid vibrating of her phone cut her off and she glanced down, eyes widening at your contact name showing on her screen. She scrambled to pick it up, nearly declining the call as she held it to her ear. "Hey, baby!"

Mindy pretended to gag herself with her finger at Tara's words, and the brunette flipped her off.

"Hi, Tar," you said, and Tara could hear your smile. "What're you up to?"

"Just hanging out with the biggest pain in my ass."

You giggled. Tara grinned at the sound. "Say 'hi' to Mindy for me, then."

"Definitely won't do that."

There was some shuffling before you asked, "What're you doing tonight?"

Tara hummed. "Tonight? Oh, nothing important." She stuck her tongue out at Mindy, who gave her middle fingers with both of her hands. "Why?"

"I'm back early from my parents' house. Nate and Eddie were way too much for me to handle this weekend." You chuckled. "Nate's got the lead role in the school play, and you'll never guess what they're doing."

"Some sort of Shakespeare?" she asked, knowing of your younger brother's own love for the playwright.

"Yup! They're making it PG-rated, obviously, but he's running around only talking in Early Modern English and I just couldn't take it anymore." God help me on the day that I meet this kid, Tara thought. "And then Eddie, well, he's going fucking insane from it, so he was off the walls, and--" You sighed. "That's not what I was calling for."

She laughed. "What's up, then?"

"Do you want to come over tonight? I can cook your favorite!" Tara was barely given the chance to respond when you added, "And I miss you."

This fucking girl. She blushed, turning her face so that Mindy couldn't see."I miss you, too, babe. And yeah, I'll come over tonight."

Mindy whipped her head toward her. "What about movie night?"

Tara waved her off, but you had overheard the other girl. "Oh, if you're busy tonight, then--"

"No!" Tara exclaimed. Stupid Mindy. Trying to ruin my plans. "No, it's fine. There will be other movie nights."

"We could just have dinner tomorrow night, baby," you said. "I don't want to pull you away from your friends."

She shook her head even though you couldn't see it. "They'll be okay without me for one night. When should I come?"

There was a pause. Tara guessed that you were looking at the time. "Is seven o'clock good? I just need to run and grab some things first, and shower, because I'm kind of greasy." There was a little shuffling. "I don't know what it is about those boys, but every time I come back from my parents' place, I'm always, like, gross."

Tara giggled. "Seven's perfect. I'll see you then."

"Okay, cool! Bye, Tar."

"Bye, babe." I love you, she thought, but she didn't dare say it. I can't. It's too soon.

Her phone clicked as you hung up, and she pulled it away from her ear, turning to Mindy. "I won't be here tonight."

Mindy stared at her like she was stupid. "Yeah. I got that. Can we still use your apartment for movie night, though? I don't even want to try fitting everyone on my bed again."

Tara rolled her eyes. "Sure. I think Sam's staying at Danny's tonight, so just don't wreck the place."

Mindy hummed. "Hey, have you guys said 'I love you' yet?"

Tara blushed, warmth rising from her collarbones to her ears. "No."

"Do you want to?"

So badly, Tara wanted to say. "What's with all the questions?" she asked instead.

Mindy shrugged. "I'm just wondering. I mean, you told her about what happened last year, right?" Tara nodded. "And she responded well, right?" Another nod. "Why haven't you said it yet?"

"Have you ever thought about the fact that I might not love her yet?" Lie. Lie. Lie!

Mindy scoffed. "Don't lie to me. Everyone sees how you act around her, and how you look at her, and we all hear how you talk about her, and--"

"Shut up."

"So, why haven't you said it?"

Tara sighed. "We've barely been dating a month, Minds." Though it's already felt like a lifetime.

"Okay, and...?" Mindy cocked her head. "Anika and I were dating for, like, two weeks when we said it." She stood from the armchair and moved onto the couch, laying Tara's feet over her lap. "Y/N already knows everything about you--or, at least, you know, the stuff that might scare someone away--and she's still here. Don't you think that means she probably loves you back?"

"You're not who I want to be having this conversation with," Tara grumbled.

"First of all, rude. Secondly, would you rather Chad? Or maybe Sam, or Quinn, or--"

Tara threw her arms out. "Okay! I get it. You're the most plausible one to talk to about this." She covered her face with her hands, groaning. "I just--I don't want to freak her out." She looked at Mindy. "I mean, she's dated people, but she's never really been in a serious relationship like this, and I don't want to rush her."

Mindy furrowed her eyebrows. "She got you for her first girlfriend? Poor sucker."

I hate her. I really do. "This is why I don't want to talk to you about this!"

"Sorry, sorry," Mindy rushed out, patting Tara's ankles. "I'll be nice. Do you think there's any other reason you might not be ready to tell her?"

"Like what?"

"Like...Amber?"

Tara clenched her jaw and shook her head. No, she thought. No, definitely not. "Mindy--"

"I'm just saying." Mindy shrugged. "Amber was your best friend, and she's the first girl you ever fell in love with. She may have been a psychopathic murderer, but that's not someone who's easy to get over. Could you...still love her?"

"No." Tara shut her eyes, hard. "No, I don't still love Amber." Her voice was shaking; she could feel the tears behind her eyelids just from talking about the girl. "I miss her, sometimes, and then I remember that she literally tried to kill me." Her eyes shot open and she gestured to Mindy. "She tried to kill you, too."

"I know, T, but--"

Tara shook her head. "There are no 'buts'. I don't love Amber anymore." I only love Y/N. Her heart fluttered at the mere thought of you.

Mindy narrowed her eyes. "So, it really is just the time?"

"Yeah," Tara said. "I'm gonna wait until I know she's ready."

"You're so whipped, dude." Mindy grinned.

"You're the worst."

* * *

"Hey, Carmine," Tara greeted as she walked up to your doorman. She had become friendly with the man over the past few weeks, since, more often than not, the two of you hung out at your place rather than hers.

"Miss Carpenter," he said, nodding. "Miss Y/L/N ran through here about an hour ago looking a bit...disheveled."

Tara chuckled. "Yeah, well, you know our girl."

He hummed and gestured toward the door. "After you."

"I'll see you on my way out," she said, lamely saluting him. Why the fuck did I just do that? she thought. However, he quelled her anxieties quickly as he saluted back to her before turning away, his attention focused on some random man walking up to the door. Okay, Carmine. You're officially cool.

Tara made her way into the building and up to your apartment, knocking on your front door when she finally arrived. She patted down her hair and straightened out her clothes, making sure she looked perfectly presentable, and beamed up at you when the door opened.

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she looked at you. You were wearing a sheer, white button down, your black bralette visible beneath it, and your pants were...well, they hugged you nicely. Girlfriend looks hot. Might explode. "I didn't realize we were dressing nice," she said, gulping.

You glanced down at yourself with a blush before looking back at her with a shy smile. "Just thought it might be fun," you mumbled.

She nodded. "You look..." Pretty. Say pretty. "Hot." Damn it, Tara. You're too gay for this bullshit.

"Thanks." You opened the door wider. Tara stepped inside, giving you a quick kiss. "You're not too bad yourself," you said, grinning.

Tara, for as much as she wanted to say she knew you, had not been expecting what you had set up inside your apartment. The lights were dimmed, there were rose petals on the floor, and the table was set with a candelabra in the middle (which she knew you had never used before because it was centuries old).

She turned to look at you. "I--You--What?"

"I originally wanted to take you out to a nice restaurant tonight, but I couldn't get a reservation anywhere." You shrugged and gestured to the room. "So, I had to make do."

"It's not an important date, is it?" No, not our one month. It's November, so it's not Valentine's day.

You shook your head. "No. I just wanted to do something a little more special tonight." You bit your lip. "Is it okay? I mean, I could turn on the lights and vacuum up the petals, and we could just order pizza or something if you wan--"

"It's perfect." She's perfect, Tara thought. Absolutely perfect in every way, and I love her.

You sighed with relief. "Oh, good, because the rose petals were kind of expensive." You placed your hand on the small of her back and led her to the table, pulling out her seat for her. "Sit. I'll get the food."

Is this real life? Did she actually set up a romantic dinner and is now bringing me food? This is--I'm dreaming, aren't I? Tara blinked as though to wake herself up, but she was still in your kitchen when she opened her eyes. Nope, not a dream. How did I get someone so perfect?

You returned with two plates of food in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. You placed a plate down in front of Tara and one in front of your own seat before waving the bottle at her.

"My parents sent me two bottles of that '61 Merlot I gave Sam, so I thought we could have it tonight," you said, pouring her a glass. You stopped suddenly, freezing. "Wait, do you like wine? I have, uh, water, too, if that's better?"

Tara chuckled. "Wine's fine. Thank you, baby."You nodded and continued to pour before giving yourself a glass as well. You set the wine down next to the candelabra and then sat, smiling at her.

"I hope you like it," you said, pointing at the food. "I'm not the best cook. We grew up with private chefs, so neither of my parents taught me to cook, either, but I tried my best, and--"

Tara ate a mouthful of the pasta you had set in front of her, and her taste buds exploded. Her eyes widened as she moaned at the taste, and you gulped, watching her. "This is amazing!" she said, her voice somewhat muffled from the food. "Holy shit, Y/N." She can cook! Thank god, 'cause I'm horrible at it.

"Really? Oh, perfect. I was nervous I'd actually have to end up just ordering us a pizza," you said, starting to eat.

Tara hummed and reached for her glass. "You need to teach me how you did this one day."

You nodded. "Sure! Any time. It was pretty easy, actually."

She took a sip of the wine, smiling at the taste of it. Jesus, I can tell this was expensive. "This is also amazing. Thank your parents for me, would you?"

"Sure, Tar." You grinned. "They asked about you, actually."

What. "Oh?" No fucking way.

"They wanted to know if you were also into literature like I am, to which I said no, of course, and I think my mom was actually a bit happy to hear it." You chuckled. "The literature comes from my dad's side, mainly. She's...not stoked about it."

"I think your mom and I are going to get along great, then," Tara giggled.

"They wanted to know when they could meet you, actually," you said, glancing up at her sheepishly. Her eyes widened. "I know we haven't been dating long, but they want to meet the woman that has their daughter 'so captivated', as my dad put it."

"Captivated, huh? I'm sure they meant they want to meet whoever turned their daughter into such a simp," she teased.

You glanced down, blushing. "We're not starting this tonight."

"If you would just admit you're a simp for me, then I'd never bring it up again." Her voice was soft as she stared at you. She looks so pretty in the candlelight.

"I'll never admit that, since it's just not true," you said, looking up. "But I will admit that...I'm in love with you."

A shiver ran through Tara at your words, butterflies stirring in her stomach. She loves me, she thought. She loves me back. "I--"

"You don't have to say it back," you started. "I know it's kind of soon, but I just...I wanted to say it." You inhaled deeply. "I love you, Tara."

Say it, you idiot. Say it. "Y/N," she breathed out. She stood and crossed the length of the table, pulling your seat out from beneath it so that she could stand in front of you. She grinned down at you. "I love you, too."

Tara leaned down and kissed you with as much passion as she could. She tried to pour every ounce of what she felt for you into the kiss, and she smiled against your lips when you stood up, never breaking contact once. You wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her into you.

"You love me," you said when you pulled back just enough to speak, your breath brushing over her lips.

"I do." I really do. More than you know. Her hands found the back of your neck as she leaned up to kiss you again, her tongue swiping over your bottom lip. Your hold on her tightened. She never wanted you to let go.

You whispered, "Is this...I mean, should we--"

"Bedroom?" Tara asked. You nodded slowly. "Yes, please."

You giggled as you took Tara's hand, leading her to your bedroom. There was nothing fancy happening there--no rose petals or candles or dimmed lights--but she didn't care. She liked knowing that you hadn't planned to sleep with her, that you were doing all of this simply because you loved her.

She shut the door behind her as you sat on your bed, waiting patiently. Perfect. Painstakingly perfect. She climbed onto your lap, straddling your legs, and kissed you again. This time, it was less slow and calculated; it was filled with more want, with more lust.

You nipped at her bottom lip, and she whimpered, her hips rising a little and brushing against you. You grinned, hands slipping beneath her shirt and holding her by the waist, your thumbs rubbing over her bare skin.

She shivered, pulling away. "You're--This all okay, right?" she asked. You nodded, and she leaned in to kiss you again before pausing, her eyes catching on something across the room. You furrowed your eyebrows at her, turning around to see what she was looking at. "Sorry. I need to..."

Tara stood and crossed the room, turning the statue bust of Shakespeare around so that he was facing the corner. Much better, she thought. I don't need Mr. Shakespeare watching me have sex.

"Oh," you said, laughing. "I didn't realize he'd bother you."

She frowned as she walked back to you, settling in your lap again, your hands retaking the position they had. "I didn't want him watching."

"I'm sure Shakespeare has seen worse things."

"Oh, shush. You're making me feel silly now."

You leaned up and kissed her. "It's a little silly."

"Whatever." She pressed her lips against yours again, silencing your teasing. Her tongue ran over your bottom lip and you gasped, allowing her the entry she so desperately desired.

You kissed for a moment more before she was dipping down, her lips dancing across your jawline, up to the little spot below your ear, and then down your neck. Her mouth was hot and warm against your skin, leaving you whining beneath her. I can do better than whines, she thought as she nipped at your pulse point. You moaned, your hand flying to her scalp when she sucked against the skin, sure to leave a pretty mark.

Her hands busied themselves with the buttons of your shirt, fingers fumbling in her haste. Stupid buttons. I hate buttons. Why do buttons even exist-- Your shirt fell open and she pulled back, gulping at the sight of you.

You were breathing heavily, your hair was mussed, the hickey on your neck was a magnificent red, and you were staring at her with half-lidded eyes.

"Jesus, you're beautiful," Tara mumbled. You turned pink at her words, looking away shyly. She cupped your jaw and softly pushed your head back to look at her. "Really, Y/N. You are."

"Thank you, baby," you said.

How can she be so cute yet so hot at the same time? Tara took your shirt off, leaving you in just your bralette, and pushed at your chest lightly. You laid back, your head on your pillows as you looked up at her, watching, waiting.

She leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the skin of your chest, and giggled when she felt your hips buck up. "Impatient," she muttered.

"Leave me alone," you grumbled above her.

She climbed off you, fingers working at the button of your pants. "Next time we do this, can you just wear a t-shirt and sweats? It'll make things a lot easier for me," she joked.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Next time?"

Tara huffed, the button finally coming undone, and she helped you out of your pants, pulling your underwear down with them. "Yes. Next time." She threw your pants somewhere behind her and hovered over you. "Unless you find me to be...unsatisfactory," she whispered, voice low.

You gulped. "M'sure that won't be the case."

She kissed you again before moving downward, planting kisses along your skin and creating marks on the plane of your stomach, until she settled between your legs. "You're dripping," she breathed out, and you whimpered at the air against you.

"Please, Tar," you whined, hips bucking ever so slightly. "Need you, baby."

She nodded, dipping down and licking a stripe through your folds, groaning at your taste. You moaned, the sound raw as it left your mouth, and Tara grinned. Beautiful, she thought as her tongue continued to explore you. Sounds so pretty.

She wrapped her lips around your clit, and she swore that the noise you made was the closest to heaven she'd ever get. She sucked lightly, then a little harder when your hand gripped her hair, pushing her against you.

"Fuck, Tar," you groaned. "Feels so good, baby."

She brought her hand up, slipped a finger into you, and hummed at the feel of your walls tight around her. Her tongue kept circling your clit, lips sucking at it, as she thrusted into you gently.

It didn't take long until you were writhing beneath her, the only sounds coming out of your mouth being broken moans and whines of her name.

"M'gonna cum," you whimpered.

Fuck yeah. She sucked harder, and you fell over the edge, crying out her name as your walls squeezed her. Your back arched, Tara following the curve with her eyes, before you lamely pushed at her shoulders. She pulled away and climbed up your body, grinning at the sight of your flushed face and closed eyes before kissing you softly.

"How was that?" she asked.

"Embarrassingly quick," you said, opening your eyes to look at her.

She giggled. "I'm good at what I do."

You hummed, hands finding her waist and flipping the two of you over. "Now let me show you that I'm good at what I do."

It was a whirlwind of color as you undressed her, and Tara barely got a word out before your lips were around her nipple, sucking at the hardened bud. She gasped, your mouth wet on her, and felt your fingers at her entrance.

"You thought I was dripping?" you teased.

"Shut up--" She moaned as you slipped a finger into her. Fuck, she thought. Long fingers.

You kissed her, lips pushed against her hard, before dipping down to her neck, sucking and kissing and licking while your finger worked at her, your thumb circling her clit.

Her mind was hazy and focused only on the way your finger curled against her just right. You slipped another one in, and she swore she saw stars.

Jesus, already? she thought briefly at the feeling of a pleasant knot tightening in her stomach. You mumbled something against her neck, but she wasn't paying any attention.

It only took one, two, three more thrusts before she was unraveling beneath you, a shuddering breath pushing past her lips as she came. You worked her through her orgasm, slipping out when she came down, and she pulled you into her, kissing you gently.

"I love you," you whispered.

She grinned. "I love you, too."

A moment passed before you asked, "Do you think I could turn my Shakespeare back around now?"

She's dead serious, isn't she? Tara rolled her eyes lightly and kissed you between your eyebrows. "Let me put my clothes back on."

[msklassickilla]

Delirious | J. Uso|R. Reigns Nineteen

Summary: When Titania buys an old typewriter from a closing thrift store, she thinks it’s just a vintage gem—until the words she types start coming true. However, the typewriter doesn’t just bring fantasies to life—it twists them. Giving Titania way more than she bargained for.

Pairing: Titania Marshall (Black OC) x Jey Uso x Roman Reigns

Author’s Note: This story is another AU thing. So, it might align, or it might not. I will try my best to keep it current enough. Nonetheless, it’s mash up of a few things: That one episode of Goosebumps. That one episode of the Twilight Zone. And that movie by the same title, Delirious featuring John Candy. I’ma make it work. Plus, I like mystical spooky shit with a bit of Jerry Springer type mess.

Warning(s): Minor foul/harsh language. Minor SMUT at the end.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Nineteen

Titania stood half-naked in the center of the closet she shared with Jey, surrounded by a war zone of heels, dresses, and rejected outfits. Her arms hung limp at her sides, a single high heel dangling from one finger. She’d been in here for nearly an hour and still hadn’t found anything appropriate. Not tight. Not short. Not clingy. Not inviting.

But every piece of clothing she owned, every single dress, every top and skirt, even the ones she used to hate because they were too modest—they all seemed to whisper seduction now.

Even her funeral dress, the matte black one she wore only to say goodbye, hugged her hips like it wanted to be worn for something else entirely.

By six o'clock, she’d given up. She sat cross-legged on the plush beige carpet, the hem of an old, oversized t-shirt resting on her thighs, a half-eaten tub of cookie dough in her lap. She popped a spoonful into her mouth and chewed like it was a cigarette break. The weight of what she was about to do hit her full force.

Jey was out there working—busting his ass in a ring for both of them—and she was getting dressed to be taken on a date by his cousin. His flesh and blood. A man who stared at her like he had waited lifetimes to have her. A man who already had her once, if the timelines could be believed. She didn’t ask for this. But now, she was in it.

By 6:45, she dragged herself up and pulled the black dress off its hanger. The one she hadn’t worn since that party she attended with Mia last year. Satin. Strapless. Sleek. It didn’t scream date night, but it would do.

Her hair went up into a simple updo, a few strands curled loose to frame her face. She kept the makeup light—foundation, a little highlight, mascara, lip gloss. That was all she could mentally commit to. She spritzed herself with perfume, the jasmine and tonka bean blend she only used when she wanted to feel powerful.

At 7 o'clock sharp, the black SUV pulled up to the curb, its tinted windows like the eyes of a predator lurking behind dark shades. She peeked through the living room blinds, watching it idle like a silent threat. She told Roman 7:15. She would make him wait. Let him simmer.

She wiped the already spotless countertops in the kitchen with a dishcloth, glancing at the microwave clock every thirty seconds. 7:05. Then 7:08. At 7:10, she finally gave in with an annoyed grunt, sliding her phone into her purse and locking the front door behind her.

She had angled the front camera hours ago, tilted it so the SUV wouldn’t be captured on footage. If Jey checked later, she’d make up some story about wind knocking it askew. Another lie to stack on top of the rest.

She made her way down the stone path in her heels, her clutch snug beneath her arm. The wind lifted her hem just slightly as she approached the curb. The driver, in a crisp black suit, stepped out and held the door open. She slid into the leather seat, her perfume immediately clashing with Roman’s signature cologne—oakmoss and danger.

He was already grinning. “No funny business,” she said before he could open his mouth. Her voice was sharp, flat.

Roman raised both hands. “It’s nice to see you too, Tee. You look nice, by the way.”

She nodded, saying nothing. Her eyes remained fixed on the window, watching the neighborhood blur as the SUV rolled away. The guilt sat heavy in her stomach, right alongside the cookie dough. She turned off her location in her phone’s settings with the casual expertise of someone who knew what they were doing was wrong.

The car ride was quiet. Jazz played softly from the speakers, smooth and slow, but Titania couldn’t focus. Roman scrolled on his phone every so often, stealing glances in her direction. She never once looked back.

When they arrived at the marina, Titania’s breath caught. The dock was familiar, haunting. She knew exactly where they were headed. His yacht waited in the distance, pristine and imposing. White exterior gleaming under the descending sun. She read the name on the back of the boat, smirking—The Last Laugh.

The driver stepped out. Roman was already opening his door. He didn’t wait for the driver to circle back. Instead, he opened Titania’s side, offering his hand like some smug gentleman out of a twisted fairy tale.

She sighed, hesitating, then slipped her fingers into his. Her heels tapped against the pavement as she stepped out, her grip limp in his. He didn’t let go. He tightened his hold, leading her down the pier like she was his and had always been.

Titania focused on her breathing. On the weight of the clutch in her hand. On the way his thumb brushed her knuckles with calculated softness. When they reached the dock, the crew was already waiting. The captain, two servers, a chef—all of them smiling, greeting her like she belonged there. Like they’d seen this version of her before.

Titania forced a smile, offering short hellos. Inside, she screamed. This wasn’t her. She didn’t do private yachts. She didn’t sneak behind her man’s back. She didn’t go on dates with men who tried to rewrite her entire life.

But as she stepped aboard The Last Laugh, feeling the sway of the boat beneath her stilettos, she knew she was in it now. Whatever came next, she was past the point of turning back.

----

The yacht was immaculate. Not a surface out of place, not a fingerprint on the chrome railings. Titania found herself drifting through it slowly, cautiously, her heels clicking softly across the polished floors. The gentle sway of the water beneath made each step feel a little looser, a little less grounded which was fitting considering how off-balance Roman had made her since the moment she stepped out the door.

Roman didn’t follow, not directly. But she could feel him watching her, his eyes trailing the path of her exploration like he was waiting for a memory to break free inside her. She let her fingers graze the smooth wood-paneled walls, passed a sitting lounge with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over black velvet water.

She peeked into an open door that revealed a fully stocked bar, another lined with sleek guest rooms she didn't dare step into. Everything was curated, elegant, masculine. Too lived-in to be unused. Too familiar to be new.

But none of it stirred anything in her. No sudden flash of recollection. No déjà vu creeping in. She didn’t know this yacht. And yet, she couldn’t shake the way Roman kept looking at her like she was supposed to.

----

By the time she made her way to the dining room, a hush had settled over the vessel, like it was holding its breath. A crew member opened the door for her with a small nod, revealing a scene so absurdly romantic, she had to physically stop and blink twice.

Rose petals were scattered across the floor, their deep red velvet catching the flicker of candlelight. Dozens of tiny flames danced on the dining table, which was set for two—champagne glasses already bubbling, silverware aligned with obsessive precision, folded cloth napkins the color of rich burgundy.

A slow, seductive thrum of music trickled through the air, Miguel’s voice crooning low and warm: “Let my love adorn you…”

At the head of the table, Roman sat back in his chair like he was exactly where he belonged. His suit jacket had been shrugged off, revealing a crisp white collared shirt, the top few buttons undone. His skin gleamed under the soft golden light, the tribal tattoos along his chest just barely visible in the shadows of his open collar. His legs were crossed at the ankle. One hand rested near a wine glass. The other tapped against his thigh, slow, deliberate, like he was waiting for her to come home.

Titania’s breath caught in her throat. She was in trouble.

She stalled at the entrance, eyes scanning the room, pretending to take it all in like a curious guest instead of someone with a pounding heart. Calm. Unbothered. That was the energy she needed. So, she bent down slowly, slipping her heels off one at a time and placing them neatly to the side.

She hated how teenage she felt—like the girl who used to scribble his name in the margins of her journal without ever knowing why. Squealing and fanning herself on the inside, while on the outside she kept her jaw locked and her shoulders back.

Roman watched her the whole time, his expression unreadable.

Titania crossed the room slowly, approaching the table and sliding into the chair to his right. Her skin buzzed from the proximity, her body betraying her in ways her brain was screaming against. She sat awkwardly, unsure where to rest her hands, so she fixated on a single petal that had fallen near her plate. She nudged it gently with her fingertip, pretending like she wasn’t coming undone from the atmosphere alone.

“Do you like it?” Roman’s voice came low and velvety, like silk dragging across bare skin.

She nodded without looking at him, her throat tight.

His hand reached across the small space between them, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. The pad of his thumb lingered just a second too long against the soft skin behind her ear.

Titania’s eyes fluttered closed. That spot. That damn spot. He knew.

She inhaled sharply, lips parting in surprise at the intimacy of the touch. The song changed. Babyface now, crooning something slow and sweet and devastating. Roman leaned back in his chair again, giving her space, but the room still felt too full of him.

They sat in silence for a moment—Titania unsure of what to say, and Roman clearly content with not saying anything at all. The air buzzed with unspoken tension, the kind that didn't need to be named to be felt. It vibrated beneath the surface like electricity waiting for a storm.

A soft knock interrupted the moment. One of the crew members appeared at the door to let them know dinner would be served shortly. Before leaving, she asked if Roman wanted the patio doors open.

“Yes,” he said, without hesitation.

As soon as the doors parted, the breeze rolled in like a wave, cool and salty, wrapping itself around Titania’s bare shoulders. It carried the scent of ocean and moonlight, making her feel momentarily untethered, as if they were the only two people left on Earth.

The moon hung abounding in the sky, casting fractured light over the waves. For a split second, Titania let herself breathe.

The crew member disappeared, closing the door gently behind her. Silence returned. But it didn’t feel empty.

Titania cleared her throat softly and turned to face him, the wind catching the edges of her updo.

She had no idea what she was about to say but something needed to be said.

“I was sure you were going to pick a restaurant or something,” she said, her voice low, eyes fixed on the flickering candle in front of her. “Not… this.”

Roman leaned back slightly, his arm resting along the back of her chair. “I thought about it,” he said after a moment, his voice smooth, casual, “but then I remembered how much you like the ocean. Said it calmed you. Helped you think.”

Titania blinked. That did sound like something she would’ve said, but not to him. Not in this lifetime. Her lips parted to ask when he supposedly heard her say that, but she stopped herself. She didn’t want another one of his stories—another brick laid on the path to the life he swore they once shared.

Instead, she reached for her glass of wine, needing something to fill the void between his knowing gaze and her confused silence. She sipped slowly, hoping it would ease the knot tightening in her stomach. It didn’t.

“I didn’t come here for this,” she finally said. “Whatever this is.” Her voice was firmer now, more grounded, but she still didn’t look at him.

Roman turned to her fully, the faint creak of the leather seat betraying his shift. “No? You sure about that?”

Titania looked at him then, her eyes narrowed. “Don’t start.”

Roman smirked, but there was something heavier behind it. “I’m not starting anything. You’re here. You look like a dream, and I’m just trying to give you the night you deserve.”

Titania’s mouth went dry. The compliments, the yacht, the music—it was all too perfect, and that’s what made it so dangerous. Because part of her wanted to fall into it. Let it sweep her up and pretend, just for one night, that none of this was a betrayal. That this wasn’t a dagger poised to plunge into Jey’s back.

Their moment was interrupted when the double doors opened again and a waiter wheeled in their food—filet mignon, grilled asparagus, scalloped potatoes, and a dessert tray so decadent it almost made Titania laugh. They ate mostly in silence, with soft glances and stolen eye contact filling the space between every bite.

When dessert came, Roman slid the small chocolate soufflé toward her, motioning to the whipped cream dolloped neatly on top. “You used to say you didn’t trust a man who didn’t know how to make dessert the last course of a good night.”

Titania gave him a flat look, fork in hand. “And did I say that before or after I said I liked the ocean?”

Roman chuckled, lifting his glass to her. “You said both the same night.”

Titania shook her head, taking a slow bite of the dessert. It was rich, warm, and familiar in a way that disturbed her more than she cared to admit. As if her taste buds recognized something her memory refused to.

“Roman…” she started, her tone cautious, warning.

“I know,” he interrupted. “Let me have this night, Tee. That’s all I’m asking. No games, no pressure. Just one night.”

Titania leaned back in her chair; eyes heavy with wariness. But when she looked out through the open doors again, toward the horizon where sky met sea, something inside her faltered. A soft crack. The kind that spread wide when left unchecked.

“I need air,” she said, already slipping out of her seat, bare feet padding across the wood floor as she walked out onto the deck. Roman followed a few moments later, watching her silhouette lean against the railing, moonlight dancing on her skin.

He didn’t say anything. Not at first. Just stood beside her, watching the way the breeze lifted a loose strand of her hair.

And then, softly, “Do you really think you don’t feel it?”

Titania didn’t answer.

Because she did.

And that was the problem.

----

The deck glowed in candlelight and silver moonshine. The sea whispered lullabies against the hull as Titania stood still, her bare toes gripping the wooden planks, the hem of her dress fluttering like a secret in the wind. Roman stood beside her, quiet, reverent. He didn’t touch her. Not yet. He just watched her, as though the shape of her in this light was a prayer finally answered.

Then the music changed.

Low and aching, the first few chords of Anthony Hamilton’s “Do You Feel Me” spilled into the night air like smoke from a candle just blown out. Roman's breath caught. His head tilted, like the notes struck something old and sacred inside him. He turned to her slowly, lips parting as if this was something they had rehearsed in a former life.

"This was our song," he said softly, almost surprised by his own voice. "You used to make me play it twice. Every time."

Titania didn’t move. Her hands gripped the railing, eyes locked on the dark waves below. But her body remembered something her mind refused to name. That melody—so tender, so full of ache—it reached inside her, pulled at something bruised and waiting.

“Dance with me,” Roman whispered.

Titania's heart stuttered.

He extended his hand. No pressure. No charm. Just offering.

She stared at it, her breathing shallow, chest tight. Her voice couldn’t be found. Only her hand moved—fingers brushing his like the answer had been decided long before the question.

He pulled her gently into his arms. The space between them collapsed like a final wall crumbling. One hand at the small of her back. The other held her hand over his heart. They swayed.

Slow.

Easy.

Like the ocean had shaped this rhythm just for them.

Roman tried to sing, voice low and raspy, terribly off-key. “Do you feel me… like I feel you…”

Titania laughed. A real one. Soft and sweet. “Please. You’re ruining it.”

He smiled, leaning close, forehead almost brushing hers. “Nah. You love when I ruin things.”

She rolled her eyes, but her arms found their way around his neck, lips parting as she softly joined him, their voices weaving through the lyrics like familiar lovers dancing barefoot in the dark. Each note became a promise once broken. Each sway a memory waiting to be reborn.

The wind wrapped around them like silk. The water below shimmered in approval. The stars held their breath.

And Titania felt it.

That deep, aching déjà vu that made her stomach twist and her chest burn. This had happened before.

Not in this life.

But somewhere.

Somehow.

Roman’s hand moved up her spine, cupping her face. Their foreheads touched, eyes fluttered closed.

The song was ending. But they weren’t.

When he kissed her, it wasn’t a question, it was gravity.

And Titania didn’t resist.

She melted into it like she had been waiting years for this kiss. Like her body was a lock and his lips the only key. The pain, the pressure, the patience—it all bled into the softness of his mouth on hers. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t need. It was a surrender.

And in that surrender, the final wall fell.

Not with a crash. But with a sigh. Like at last.

Titania clung to him, not for balance, but because her soul had decided something her mind wasn’t ready to admit.

This was the beginning of something.

And it would not let her go.

----

The kiss lingered.

It lingered like a prayer, like a secret wrapped in silence, like a touch that tasted too much like home to be anything but dangerous. Titania’s lips trembled against his, her breath caught somewhere between fight and surrender.

But eventually, she pulled away, chest rising and falling with the weight of a thousand sins she hadn’t yet committed—but thought about.

Roman didn’t move. He didn’t loosen his grip around her waist. He didn’t blink. He just stared at her like she was the answer to every question he never asked out loud. Titania couldn’t take it. The heat. The tension. The pressure of his gaze like it knew things she didn’t.

She turned her face away, eyes glassing over, and whispered, “I need a drink.”

Roman said nothing as she slipped out of his grasp and moved toward the bar. She didn’t bother with a glass. She uncorked the deep red bottle and drank straight from it, lips glossy with the wine, throat bobbing with each desperate gulp. Roman stood still on the deck, the moon catching the shimmer of sweat at his temple, his jaw clenched so tight she could feel it from across the room.

Almost. But almost didn’t count. Not this time.

By the time he reached her, her face had changed. The air had changed. Her eyes shimmered, but not from seduction. Something was breaking inside her—loudly, quietly, all at once.

“Tee,” he said gently, reaching out to touch her arm.

“Don’t,” she snapped, stepping back like his hand might finish the job her guilt started. “Don’t touch me.”

Roman’s breath hitched, but it wasn’t surprise. It was exhaustion. Fury. Longing. Everything he’d been choking back since the night he knew he wanted her more than he wanted peace.

“I’m tired of this shit,” he said, voice low, serious. “This push and pull. This game you play with yourself. You keep acting like it’s all in your head, like what we feel ain’t real, like I’m some fantasy that just showed up out of nowhere.”

Titania opened her mouth, but he wasn’t done.

“I never wanted anything Jey had. Never. Not a car, not a role, not a single goddamn thing. But you?” His eyes burned now, jaw twitching. “From the moment I saw you… I knew. You were never meant for him.”

“That’s not true,” she snapped.

He stepped closer.

“He doesn’t see you. Not like I do. And you—you’ve been trying to shrink yourself into the woman you think he wants. A housewife with a soft voice and soft boundaries. A caged bird that sings pretty. But I see it in your eyes, Titania. You’re suffocating. You’re miserable. And you know I’m right.”

“Stop it,” she cried, voice rising like thunder off the sea. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Jey loves me—”

“Do you?” he cut in, and for a second, she almost said it.

She almost said, “I never wrote this.”

But she caught herself. Swallowed it whole. Buried it behind a wall of deflection and fire.

“You’re obsessed,” she spat. “You don’t know when to quit.”

Roman stared at her for a long, silent beat. Then without a word, he reached down and plucked the wine bottle from her trembling hand. He brought it to his lips, drinking with the same intensity she had moments ago. His throat moved; his eyes never left hers.

He placed the bottle down, slow and deliberate. Then he stepped in close again, body heat pressing against her, crowding out the air.

Titania stepped back, defiance in her eyes. She had enough of this.

“You go tell that captain to turn this shit around right now. You hear me. Now. I want off this thing.” She demanded, voice laced with quiet provocation.

Roman’s face remained neutral. But his hand came up and gripped her chin, gentle but firm.

“No,” he whispered. “I’m not taking you back until you remember.”

Titania’s breath caught.

Because the worst part wasn’t his threat. It was the truth in it. And the terrifying realization that maybe—just maybe—she was starting to want to remember.

----

The wine clung to her throat like heat, thick and slow, as Titania tore herself from Roman's grip. His fingertips grazed her jaw once more before she shoved his hand aside with a sneer.

"Don't touch me."

She spun on her heel, dress slipping slightly exposing more of her chest, and stormed out of the dining room barefoot. The roses, the candles, the music—they all felt like mockery now. A cruel stage for a play she never agreed to star in. Roman called out after her, but she didn’t answer.

The air shifted the moment she left the room, like the yacht had taken a breath of its own.

Alive.

Watching.

Waiting for the right moment.

She stumbled her way up the staircase, the satin hem of her dress whispering against the polished rails. The alcohol bloomed in her bloodstream, not like intoxication but like static. Every step carried a deeper vertigo. The corridors blurred slightly at the edges, warping into colors that felt too warm, too familiar. Like a memory trying to take shape.

Then came the voices.

At first, it was a low murmur—a man’s voice, husky with desire, wrapped around a woman’s soft laughter. Her laughter. Her voice. Titania froze halfway down the corridor, the walls on either side of her pulsing like veins. She clutched the wall with one hand, her other braced against her chest as she tried to steady her breath.

"He’s right down there," her own voice whispered through the air. "We can’t. Not now."

Roman’s voice followed, drenched in need. "His ass is drunk. He won’t notice. You know that. Tee... I need you."

Titania stumbled forward, her bare feet dragging against the cold wood. Her vision tunneled. She passed the hallway mirror without daring to look, afraid of what she might see. Her name echoed around her in layers—whispered, gasped, moaned.

Just as she reached the door to the master suite, she heard it:

"But Jey."

Her own voice. Pleading. Weak.

The door creaked open on its own.

Titania stared into the room.

There she was—on the bed, hair wild around her shoulders, back arched, her mouth parted in ecstasy. Roman lay beneath her, eyes dark with hunger, hands gripping her hips as he thrust up into her. Her voice split the air, laced in pleasure and something desperate. A man unraveling. A woman coming undone.

The sounds were too visceral, too rhythmic to be imagined.

Titania slid to the floor, knees folding beneath her, one hand still on the frame of the door like it was the only thing tethering her to the world. She couldn’t look away. She tried—Lord knows, she tried—but her gaze was locked on the mirrored version of herself, giving in completely.

"No... no, I didn’t—I didn’t do this," she whispered. Her breath came in jagged gasps, chest tight with panic. "This isn’t real. This can’t be real."

But the moans echoed louder.

Roman’s voice rose like a hymn. "Say you’re mine. Say it."

The Titania in the bed answered with a sobbed “I’m yours.”

The door slammed shut on its own. Just like that, silence.

Titania screamed.

But no sound came out.

----

Read Chapter 20... (click here)

Want to join the taglist, let me know!

Taglist: @theusotwinzcom @yana3sworld @mikaelsonharem7 @isabella-2025 @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @jeypunkk @usoholic @baybehkay @key05marie

Want to read from the beginning, click here

[bangchanisinmymind]

woman

pairing; bangchan x reader; smut

2 o'clock in the morning. that was what chris's computer showed. you were in his room, he was still completing the track in his shorts and you on his lap wearing his tshirt that fitted you like a mini dress.

curled up in his chest waiting for him to finish and finally sleeped until you started overthinking again. after you cut your hair on shoulder length, even if everyone liked it, you didn't feel like a woman. you loved how it looked on you but after looking at yourself on the mirror a few times it seemed like it made you more boyish than you already were. you were already insecure about your boyish looks that everyone seemed to love but you just wanted to feel like a total woman.

without noticing you started muttering to your self "what if I wear more makeup" or "what if I go on a diet again?" that you didn't realise he had turned his computer off and was listening to you with a confused look on his face."what's wrong babe?" he whispered "it's just...... I'm not feeling myself" "what do you mean?" still confused; "I just don't feel as feminine as before, like I turned into a boy" you frowned

"oh my baby *forehead kiss* want me to prove you you're not a boy * kiss* you'll always be my woman *lip kiss*" "mmh" was your only answer before he stared kissing your collarbones, his tongue giving slight licks his on every weaker until he reached the neckline of the shirt.

glancing at you to make sure you're ready before he took off your shirt throwing it behind his chair. he stared for a few seconds at your bare chest, your hard rock nipples begging for his attention. your legs on each side of his waist, his hands on your hips and lips attached to your left nipple as he lifted you up going to the bed and pushing your back against the mattress.

your whimpers turned into moans as his hand travelled to your right nipple as he continued sucking your left one. his over hand going down to caress your clit through your panties and he was now standing on his knees letting you feel his semi-hard erection that touched you thigh."feeling better now sweetheart?" he breathed allowing his hot breath send shivers down your spine as he left a trail of hot wet kisses along your stomach 'till the hem of your underwear.

you just nodded as you lifted up your hips to let him pull off the only fabric between you and his tongue. you on the edge of bed, his knees on the floor and your croch touching his nose was all you could ask for."you're so beautiful" he whispered before diving into you. his tongue travelling from your home to your clit and back before he started sucking desperately on your sensitive spots leaving a few light marks there.

you were stimulated already and after feeling your pre-cum you started bucking your hips on his face needing more. "feel like a woman now?" he breathed out "i'm your- your woman" you managed to let out. he now used his fingers first teasing your clit and slowly moving to your aching hole. "chris fuck- please just put something in" nearly screaming making him chuckle at your desperation.

"just wait a little babygirl alright? there is no need to be quick, you're mine right?" he muttered undoing his pants and taking them off along with his boxers. he teased a little again by letting his tip rest on your clenching cunt. hands on his neck tugging his brown locks "chris just-" you couldn't even speak, he just bottomed you out slowly and heavy breathing.

"oh god sweetie- please- ah this feels so good fuck" you whined as you felt him moving. before you could even react his head dropped to your boobs as he started sucking once again. the overstimulation you felt was extraordinary as he picked up his pace real quick. you couldn't even moan the only thing you could do was to just lay your head back and let him do his work.

even you thought you wouldn't last a second more, you tried your best and wait for him to reach his high as well. "babygirl i'm- shit -" none of you could make a whole sentence but you soon realised both of you had finished and his head was still on you chest, now resting and panting heavily. "oh god that was amazing" you muttered "i feel so good now. thank you babe" you said after a few minutes leaving a lot of kisses on his sweaty face.

© @/bangchanisinmymind on tumblr | do not translate or copy my work without permission {feedback is highly appreciated! comment/DM for requests!}masterlist

[yousufferbutwhyyyy]

Everything at Once part 3

Dieter Hellstrom x Original Fem Character

(I apologize if this fanfic is dumb, I've wanted to make one for a while but never gotten around to it. Again, English is not my first language, so I apologize for the grammatical errors and the some parts that make no sense. Also thank you for the support! ♡♡)

Warnings: cursing, N*zis, discrimination, dieter is smittennnn, flirting, smut in the future, violence and angst in the future. I do not support N*zis in any shape or form!

I'm sick of translating so everything is in English now. 😘

(not my gif)

.

A week later, Dieter found himself thinking of the French baker. He can still taste her coffee on his tounge and feel her fingers accidentally touching his. He wondered how those fingers would feel on other parts of his skin. The thought sent shivers down his spine.

He felt absolutely horrible about snapping at her for no reason. Her startled expression made his heart sink more and more.

BRRRRRIIIIIIING

His alarm clock buzzed. 5 o'clock.

"Shut up" he grumbled trying to turn off the damn thing.

BRRRIIIIIIING

He fumbled it in his hands for a minutes, eventually throwing across the room, hitting the wall. It broke.

"Shit." Dieter mumbled.

He looked over at the calendar. Sunday. Rest day... finally.

After getting ready for the day, he decided the walk around the city.

There was no one out, due to church goers and the ungodly hour.

There was something peaceful about walking the streets of Paris alone, but also strange

Isnt Paris the City of Love? Where is his love?

He made it to Camille's bakery and stopped the entrance. The door was blue and the windows blue floral drapes were closed.

He looked up at the apartment above the establishment and saw the window was open and the white lace drapes were softly blowing in the wind. Suddenly, a young woman appeared in a cream colored nightdress and leaned over the black metal balcony.

Dieter panicked slightly, and hid in the small alleyway around the corner; he could still see the woman.

It was the waitress.

The stupid waitress....

He watched her for a moment, basking in her beauty and she smoked her cigarette on the balcony.

The sight was almost too perfect.

Her golden curls were loose around her shoulders and her nightdress had the perfect sheerness that he could almost see her silhouette.

Dieter realized he was watching her for too long when that beautiful face saw his...

Shit

Camille gasped so hard she nearly choked on the cigarette smoke. She ran back inside clutching her chest, hoping he didnt see anything. Oh, but he did and he will never forget.

Dieter mentally kicked himself for being a peeping tom.

"Now my reputation is even worse now." He thought to himself as he trudged back to his flat.

When back home, he poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat on the sofa.

He drank his sorrows and embarrassment that night never not thinking of that stupid waitress.

.

The next evening, Camille was cleaning up the cafe, wiping down the counter, cleaning the dishes, and now he least favourite...mopping the floor.

Some idiot German officer's wife let her child throw a God awful fit and tossed a perfectly made hot chocolate to the ground.

Camille groaned and cringed when realizing the floor has been stained.

Small tears prickled in the corners of her eyes. That morning, she got a letter from the landowner stating if she doesnt make anymore money in the following week, her cafe will be shut down.

Out of a fit of rage and exhaustion, she threw her favourite vase full of flowers to the ground.

I'll never make as much as they want....I'll never make the bare minimum anyways...

Without notice, a pair of black leather boots came into view as she looked up from her fit on the ground.

Her eyes traveled upwards the black clad legs, to a long thick leather jacket and a swastika on a red cuff.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sir. What would you like?" Camille panicked, not meeting the eyes of the officer.

"Nothing miss..." the voice spoke. She looked up and saw the face of the pale man...

She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.

"Your flowers are on the ground." Dieter said plainly.

Camille giggled softly.

He cracked a small smile. "Need new ones?"

She looked up at him again in confusion. Then, he moved his hands behind his back and presented the bouquet. It was multicolored with different roses, lilacs, and baby's breath. It was beautiful.

She smiled and took the bouquet from him.

"I dont know your favourite colour, so I got all of them." He said proudly. Camille laughed and took a smell of the flowers.

"Merci... but why did you get me flowers?"

Dieter's face went red as a tomato.

"I felt sorry for bring rude the other day and spying on you. Trust me, it was not my intention. "

Camille rolled her eyes playfully and looked directly into his eyes. "Isnt that your job, to spy?"

He chuckled softly and shrugged his shoulders.

They shared this peaceful beautiful moment together a little longer. He plucked a small flower from the bouquet and but it behind Camilles ear.

"Would you like some help with cleaning?" He asked without taking his eyes off of her.

She felt droopy, relaxed finally.

"Oh...the mess..." she replied quietly looking up at him. His features more visable to her. She felt herself closer to him and slowly close her eyes.

Dieter panicked.

"Mademoiselle... the mess."

Camille immediately snapped out of her love bitten stupor and got right back to cleaning.

Dieter helped out on what he could with picking up the broken glass. As he leaned to pick the glass up, Camille was already on her knees trying to scrub the stain off the floor. They were inches part. Dieters heart raced.

She looked over at him and smiled.

He got up quickly before anything tempting would happen.

What is wrong with me...

As he threw out the glass he saw the small peice of paper containing the for closure of the bakery. His throat felt dry and his hands got clammy.

No...dont leave me just yet...

"I think I got most of it." Camille admitted as she got up from the floor.

Dieter looked her in the eyes.. she cant leave me yet...

"What is your name, Mademoiselle?" He asked her.

"Camille Robichaux." she answered. "Yours?"

"Major Dieter Hellstrom."

She giggled playfully and took his hat off his head and put it on hers. He laughed and tried to take it back, but she was too quick and ran away from him. He followed her, lagging behind on purpose. He watched her legs as they ran away from him. I wonder how those legs feel around my...

She turned a sharp corner and up a flight of steep stone stairs. The stairs to her flat. Should I? Dieter thought.

He heard her giggling and her feat running upstairs.

Fuck it. He ran after her, following her laughter.

@whore4waltz @rurivu @xoxocillian @fridaycanbesadsometimes @racheljo47 @whitechoc135 @officerh4t @blueberrypancakesworld @hanslandasstrudel

To be continued...😘😘

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 19 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Bob is away, Anna can feel his absence everywhere. But nothing beats a perfect reunion. 

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, mentions of smut, 18+

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Months later....

Sitting in the coffee shop alone after visiting so many times with Bob truly made Anna sad. She was so used to sipping her coffee while he drank his hot tea, and somehow the scent always clung to his hair for hours afterwards. She'd bury her nose against him when they got home, and he would laugh when she told him he always smelled good.

But now he was gone, and she couldn't do anything about it. She accidentally burned her mouth on her coffee, and after that it tasted disgusting. She got herself a croissant, but they were better when shared. Tears stung her eyes, and she had to take a deep breath and convince herself that it would be over soon. Then she focused her attention on her computer as she worked through some more of the changes she wanted to make to her manuscript.

After three more paragraphs, it was no use. It wasn't even ten o'clock in the morning yet, but she gave up and switched to the notes app on her phone where she had been adding ideas for Jessica's bridal shower and bachelorette party. Physics jokes about the laws of attraction? Designer lingerie shop in LA? Can you make a math equation that looks like a penis?

She would defer to Advanced Calculus for that last item. With a sigh, she was about to close her computer, buy another croissant for Suzanne, and then head out when she saw a new email notification.

"No way," she gasped as she tapped on it and stared at her computer screen.

Sky Writing has posted a new, original work! Click the link below to check out the subscriber that you follow!

Anna's heart started pounding erratically, and her fingertips felt numb. Anticipation and confusion mingled together as she opened the link. It was difficult to read as she tried to take a deep breath, but she wanted to consume Bob's words as quickly as possible.

I can see the dusky outline on the horizon,

But the California coastline isn't enough.

I need to be at home.

I need my bookshelf.

I need my books.

I need your books.

I need my Anna.

I need to see you in the next two minutes,

Because twelve weeks is way too long.

"The next two minutes?" Anna mumbled to herself as she read the last lines over again. "Two minutes?" She was out of her seat immediately, neck craning around the crowded coffee shop, looking in every direction. And that's when she saw him stroll inside in his khaki uniform and silver glasses with the most handsome smile on his face.

"Bob!" she cried out, nearly tripping over her chair as she left her stuff behind to get to him as quickly as she could. He was home. He was home early from his deployment. Communication had been a little spotty, and there was so much she wanted to tell him, but he was finally home.

"Anna," he murmured as she threw herself at him, knocking the wind out of her own lungs. His arms were wrapped around her as soon as her lips met his, and she didn't care if there was a whole shop of people watching them. He was finally home. Somehow he still tasted like tea, and he smelled so good, she buried her nose against his neck as he chuckled.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked, kissing him just above his shirt collar.

"Jess told me," he replied easily.

She kissed her way up to his ear as he started to slowly walk her backwards to the small table where she'd been sitting. "Why didn't you call me? I could have picked you up. I missed you so much."

"I just wanted to surprise you," he whispered, claiming her lips again as they stood next to the table.

She looked up at his pretty eyes and said, "This is a wonderful surprise. And I have one of my own."

"What is it?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing the freckles along her cheek and chin as she grinned up at him.

"I'm divorced."

His eyes went wide, and a sound of pure excitement escaped him as he scooped her up into his arms. "You're divorced?"

Anna laughed as she told him, "Finalized ten days ago. Fuck Kevin."

"You drove my truck here? Let's go," Bob said, immediately carrying her toward the exit.

"Wait, I need my stuff!"

"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly very flustered as he helped her shove her computer and phone into her bag.

"I was planning to get a croissant or something to take to Suzanne," she said as he practically dragged her outside and down the street to his truck.

"Well, I was planning on taking you back to the bookstore to pick out something we could read together tonight, but this is even more important."

Anna ended up with her back pressed against the side of the truck while he unlocked the door, and she pressed her lips to his Adam's apple while she tried to hold onto her bag. She wanted to taste him everywhere. "Going right home actually sounds like a pretty good idea."

"That's exactly where we're going," he promised, tossing her stuff onto the seat before helping her in as well. The six seconds when he was walking around the truck and she couldn't touch him were miserable, but soon enough, he was kissing her while he started the engine. Then she had her fingers wrapped up with his while he started to drive. "I love you, Anna." He kept his eyes on the road as he made his way through Coronado, and she felt warmer than she had in twelve weeks. "I love you, and I would never pressure you to do anything you didn't want to do."

She turned to look at his handsome profile. "I know you wouldn't. That's why I love you so much."

She watched as he swallowed hard before saying, "I know we talked about our future, but it was always kind of ambiguous while we waited for your divorce decree."

"It's not ambiguous anymore!" Anna cheered as they neared his house where she had been living for months. "I'm ready for the future. The future is here. The future is now."

She was all smiles as he parked the truck with an anxious look in his eyes. "You told me you wanted me forever," he whispered, and Anna couldn't figure out why he looked so nervous. 

"Of course I want you forever," she told him once again. She'd made it as clear as she could that she was done running. Kevin and New Jersey and everything that could have broken her but didn't were all left in the past. She was moving on a little bit more every day with Bob and her best friends and her tenure track teaching position at San Diego State. She was unashamedly taking excellent care of herself, and she never stopped Bob when he told her she needed to take a break and that he'd handle something for her. She wasn't going anywhere ever again.

"I want you forever, too. And we can go slow, or we can go fast. Or you can tell me you don't want what I have to give you, and that's okay too."

"What?" she asked, her heart sinking in her chest as he parked and climbed out. She wanted everything Bob had to give, and she wanted to give him everything, too. They even talked about getting married someday after he initially got over his nerves enough to bring up the topic. She had assured him that he was exactly the only person she would do that with after her disastrous first marriage. Why would he think she didn't want what he had to give?

"Bob?" she asked as she climbed out as well and met him on the sidewalk. "Why do you look so concerned?" He didn't respond. He only led her up to the porch and unlocked the door. "Bob!" she complained when he scooped her up and carried her up the stairs, going two at a time until his breath was coming in shorter gasps. Instead of turning toward their bedroom like she expected, he went into the guest room and dropped her onto the futon.

She rarely came in here. It was almost funny that Bob planned on sleeping in this room when he insisted Anna come home with him after Kevin figured out where she lived. And now he was on his hands and knees, crawling under the futon as she asked, "What in the world are you doing?"

He hit his head and grunted in response, but a second later, he emerged with his hair all messed up and something in his hand. "I got you a ring."

"A ring?" she asked, realizing he was holding a small box. A jewelry box. She looked at him where he was kneeling in front of her, cheeks turning pink. "What kind of ring?" she whispered, hopeful yet needing to be sure.

Bob snapped the box open, and all Anna could see was a beautiful diamond. "An engagement ring. But only if you want it. I know you probably need more time. I don't even need an answer right now, I promise," he told her earnestly as she scooted a little closer to him. "You were still married two weeks ago, but I wanted to give it to you now anyway. You can wear it or not wear it. We can wait a while if you want. I just... wanted you to know it's all yours. I'm all yours."

She hadn't worn the rings from Kevin in over a year and a half. She pawned them with no remorse before she left for California. "It has been a very long time since I was really married, Bob." She took the box from his hand and looked at the ring. She couldn't stop smiling, and the tears in her eyes made the diamond look all blurry as she asked, "Do you really want to marry me? I'm a mess."

He grinned at her. "You're really not, Baby. You're smart and beautiful and funny and kind. You're a fighter. Of course I want to marry you."

Without another word, Anna took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. She'd known Bob long enough to be sure that his words were honest. She was willing to throw it all in on Sky Writing. "We can take our time," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him. "There's no need to rush. But I definitely want to wear this ring."

They made a long, luxurious stop in their bed where Anna almost lost her voice from the number of times she called out Bob's name, and then he made her lunch before the two of them made their way to the living room bookshelf. 

"We didn't make it to the bookstore to pick out anything new to read," she mused, brushing all of the colorful spines with her fingers.

"Maybe we could read the first book you ever recommended for me. Together this time," he replied, his hands settling on her hips as his chin rested on her shoulder. 

Anna smiled as she reached for A Room With a View, remembering so well the day she started to fall in love with Bob Floyd. The book still looked practically brand new even though he'd already read it, and she grinned as she said, "I can't wait to dog ear all your pages."

"I will gladly let you."

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

The End! Thank you for reading another adventure in the Sugarverse! I hope you learned that even when you're a mess and barely holding it together, you're still worthy of friendship and love. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@avaleineandafryingpan

@t-nd-rfoot

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@cruelmissdior

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@angelbabyange

@eternallyvenus

@sgt-barnesveins

@kmc1989

@libbyaller

[masonmyluv]

Part 2

A/N: Hope you guys like this story so far. I promise it will get more interesting with the 3rd part. 😊

Warnings: allusions to smut, a bit of masturbation, but that's all.

Fermin ⚽️

I know I said I will tell

you one day before but...

Is it okay if I come today?

In an hour?

Y/N

No problem ☺️

I'm at home anyway

Fermin⚽️

Okay see y'a

Sometimes, you really needed to say no to people. Your room was a mess like the whole flat. And you weren't a morning person. It just struck 11 o'clock and you woke up half an hour ago. You had to make the flat look presentable and you had to make yourself look presentable. Because Fermin was coming over. Fermin was coming over to study. Freaking Fermin López who was playing for Barça was coming over.

Panic started settling in, especially since you acknowledged your crush on the Sevilliano. You missed him when he didn't come to classes and would stalk his and Barça's Instagram account. And watching the games of course. 15 minutes had already passed while you were thinking about him, so you got to work, tidying all up.

You were nearly finished with your clothes, when your phone rang. "Hello?"

"It's me" Fermin said. "I'm about to leave training and I forgot to ask you where you live" he chuckled. Damn, how stupid you two were. "I'll share the location" you said.

15 minutes later, he was already at your door. "Hi. Sorry I hope it's okay" he said, coming in. You tensed when he looked around the place, you barely had any girl friends in here, but a boy? Not in a million years. "I brought you coffee. Figured you aren't a morning person" he smiled. You didn't even noticed the bag until he put it on the kitchen table and started getting things out. "And maybe you didn't even have breakfast, so I brought that too" he blushed. "Pumpkin spice latte? How did you know?" You asked, taking a sip from the cup. "You always buy it when it's November" he shrugged, not aware of his admission yet. "Oh... that's cute" you said, looking away so he wouldn't see your red cheeks. "Wait... is that a Barça t-shirt?" He asked, looking into the living room. "And a mini copy of the Champions League trophy? And a Messi T-shirt?" He kept asking questions like a little boy who was excited about getting a t-shirt from his idol. "Y-yeah" you shuttered. "You're a fan? I didn't know" he said, looking through all the things you had on display. "Well I don't talk much about it" you shrugged. "Why? This is amazing" he said. "I don't know... It's scaring guys off" you replied. "They're idiots. Maybe we can talk about it some time. When we're not studying" he said. "Yeah studying" you mentally face palmed yourself for forgetting why he was here in the first place.

"You okay? Maybe we should stop for today" you asked him. "Yeah I think so" he replied, finishing the last notes. "Catching up is tiring" he sighed, packing up his stuff. "But not impossible" you tried to encourage him. "Yeah, when you have a Y/N around" he joked, making you smile. "Thank for the coffee, though. I couldn't have made it without" you said. "No worries. Thank you for taking your time with me" he said. "See you tomorrow?" You asked. "Tomorrow I have an away game, so no" he said sadly. "Oh okay. Good luck then" you said, leading him to the door. "Thanks. Night" he said.

—————

You were on Instagram when a video of Fermin at the national football team camp popped up. It was his first selection and they posted a clip about him. He talked about his family, his friend and the pride of playing for his country, his voice turning you on. It was deep, but also had a sweet accent to it, but his Spanish accent was so strong, you found yourself letting out a sigh. The colours of the equipment matched his perfect styled hair that you would love to thread your fingers through. It was pathetic how turned on you were from just a clip. Two days ago he was literally here in your living room, looking deliciously handsome, but you weren't that distracted. Maybe they edited the clip and the pictures somehow because he looked so good. You saw another picture where he greeted someone, the muscles in his arm flexing. You imagined how it would look if he hugged you tightly, what would you feel then. You were sure his large hands could cup your breasts easily, playing with your nipples, turning you on. Having you against his chest, full access to doing whatever the wanted. You would touch his muscles, the nape of his neck and his jawline, that perfect sharp jawline. And you would kiss his lips, begging him to touch you.

"Fuck" you groaned, realising you were dreaming with your eyes open, one hand playing with your breast and the other close to your panties. "No. I have to focus on studying" you said, pushing away any Fermin related thoughts. "Fuck fuck no" you panicked when you accidentally liked his most recent post while attempting to erase any Fermin-the-sexy imagine from your brain. "Now he'll think I'm a stalker".

Hope you like it 🥰

Feedback is appreciated

[arlerts-angel]

🫣🍯🍭 for Levi please

you got it!! 18+ MDNI

🫣 — an oddly specific headcanon

🍆 is pale with a soft pink tip, nearly 6.5-7 inches long and a good few inches girth

🍯 — a dilf headcanon

mmmm i imagine levi in his early 40s with a 5 o'clock shadow, salt and pepper hair. 😩🤌

🍭 — a smut headcanon

levi likes to play strip poker 🤭 a) because he enjoys playing poker and b) he slso loves to watch you strip for him!