#so it's good to see the tables turn and have the others try to be there for him instead. and give him the space he needs to process.

[saltnsugarbear]

im the only one who does it how you like (18+)

summary: You see Carmy again after three weeks of no contact

title from: "Billie Bossa Nova" by Billie Eilish

word count: 4.4k

content warnings: smut MDNI!!!! unprotected PinV, afab reader genitalia, pull out method, slighty intoxicated both parties (carm and reader), um um what's it called, oh already listed it nvm.

side note: again, my beloved Olive helped with this! took some of the dialogue from our DMs as well <3 we wouldn't have this part if not for her so everyone say thank you

part 1!

You're surprised to see him at the bar.

But there Carmen is, leaning against a high table with a beer in hand. You're also surprised to see him in loose-fitting jeans and a muscle tee. His hair's a little ruffled from the ceiling fan above him and talking to someone you can't see from here. You have a twisted thought that it can't be anyone but one of his employees. He doesn't know anyone else.

It couldn't be Claire... Could it?

Your stomach twists at the thought. Wasn't she working tonight? Would she have told you if she'd changed it? Gotten her shift covered?

Your stomach dips when you catch Carmy's gaze. You don't know how long he's been watching you or when he even noticed you across the bar. Once he has your attention, he raises his bottle and flicks his fingers at you in greeting. You have to look away, turning back to your friends and taking a quick sip of your own drink.

You do your best to forget he's there. Try and distract yourself with conversation and whatever your friends are gossiping about.

Your night continues, pushing any thoughts of Carmen to the back of your mind. You entertain your friends who insist that some guy in the other direction is interested in you, rolling your eyes when they try to send you over.

"I'm not hooking up during the fourth of July weekend," you tell them, finishing your drink. Subconsciously, you scan the room, eyes falling on Carmy again. You feel like you're going to be sick at how fast your stomach twists. You could see who he was talking to now. She'd switched sides, and you got an eye-full. You almost wish you could think something mean, but she's beautiful.

The dress she's in is short but modest enough. Some of her hair's pulled back in a star-shaped claw-clip, and she's got on a pair of cowboy boots that could be considered out of place. It makes your stomach churn that you can't find a fault to nitpick.

Carmy's gaze flicks up to yours quickly, and you hate how your breath catches. It's a moment before he looks back down at the girl and leans down closer to her.

"I'm gonna go to the restroom, I'll be right back," You turn and tell you friends. There's a chorus of acknowledgment from them, and you can feel them watching you as you make your way to the bathroom.

Once you're inside, you beeline for a stall, pressing your back against the door when you get in. You rub your hands over your face, sighing heavily. You hide in the bathroom for a total of five minutes. Five long minutes of you trying to get it together.

You spend most of that time trying to forget how Carmy's hands felt on you. Eventually, you reason that you can't hide in the bathroom until they close, so you drag yourself out of the bathroom.

You stop when you spot your table. At some point during your time in the bathroom, Carmy had migrated over to your friends and was currently listening intently to Mari. Mari, who is probably telling Carmy something too personal for a man she just met. Her face lights up when she spots you, tapping Carmy's arm before she points at you.

The motion makes your brow furrow, slightly bothered by whatever has happened between them. You think you can hear, "That's who I was talking about.." From Mari. Your stomach drops, that can't be good.

She waves you over quickly, talking fast at Carmy while he watches you approach.

"This is Carmy! Says he's a chef at that new fancy place on Orleans!" Mari tells you excitedly, hand falling on his forearm and making your stomach churn. "Where that sandwich shop used to be."

You want to tell her she's stupid. That she doesn't know anything about Carmy or The Bear or The Beef. Something in you wants to make it painstakingly clear you know who Carmy is.

"What are you doing?" You hiss at him, gaze darting from him to your friends before going back to him. Carmy has the audacity to look confused when you ask him, and you swear when you get him alone, you're going to strangle him.

"What'd'ya mean?" He asks, and he looks at Mari. "She invited me over, wanted to introduce me to a friend."

"This is them!" Mari exclaims, motioning to you. Then she leans forward towards you. "I didn't know you guys knew each other! He's great."

She has the nerve to grin, and you're going to walk out into the road. You breathe in sharply to keep your cool, bringing a hand to rub between your brow.

"He's Claire's ex.." Your tone is short, but you need to remind yourself as you say it. You can see the realization on Mari's face and the confusion, and then the epiphany hits her.

"The guy from high school?" She asks, and she's got this gleam in her eyes that can't be good.

"Her most recent one," you clarify, but that just makes her nod solemnly.

"The guy from high school," She agrees and grins at Carmy again. "I was right about you."

The smile he gives her makes you want to walk out, watching as Mari nods at him enthusiastically.

"Okay, well," you start, tapping your phone for the time. "It's getting late, so I'm gonna head home."

There are some sounds of protests from your more intoxicated friends, making you wave them off and reminding them you have a job. While you're assuring your friends that yes, you have to go, Carmy migrates over to your side.

"Want me to wait with you?" Mari asks from across the table. You perk up, opening your mouth to answer, but-

"I can take take 'em home," Carmy pipes up. Both of you look over at him after, not hiding your confusion or Mari's delight.

"You can't take me home," you frown. You already know Carmy's had enough that he shouldn't be driving.

"Why not?" He asks, he's frowning back at you.

"You've been drinking." You tell him simply. And that's the main point. That, and you don't think it's a good idea to be alone with Carmy for more than twenty minutes.

"Can walk y'home.." He says it like it's the obvious choice.

"I live across town," you remind him. He groans softly at how difficult you're being.

"You could get a cab." Mari pipes up, looking between you both.

"Not from here.." Carmy makes a face, and your brow furrows.

"Why not from here?" You ask.

"Weirdos.." He shrugs, like it's obvious.

"So, I'm taking a cab from your place?" You clarify, and Carmy nods.

Sugar's told you enough about how stubborn Carmy is that you know you'll get nowhere with him. So instead, you sigh before you start collecting your things. "Fine."

"Perfect," Carmy says before turning to your friends. "Nice meeting you guys."

They all give him a cheerful goodbye, something you'll have to correct later. You give a round of hugs before you and Carmy finally leave the bar.

Once you guys are out of the bar, you bring out your phone and start tracking the ride from his apartment to yours. Carmy shifts beside you before his arm slips around you. You glance at him, but he doesn't pay you any mind, hand resting along your lower back.

You're over the first crosswalk when Carmy decides to speak up.

"You were jealous," Carmy snickers, knocking his shoulder into yours while his fingers skim over your back pocket. "Think I forgot about you?"

The question almost makes you stop. Only kept moving forward by his hand along your back. When you don't respond, Carmy turns to you before he ducks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Don't need t'worry.." He says before he goes to press a kiss to your neck.

"Carm-" You start, raising your shoulder to protect your neck. "Quit it."

Carmy groans as he tries to place a kiss on your cheek. "What? Didn't miss me? I missed you.."

"Why haven't y'texted me? Missed touching you.. Missed you.." Carmy sighs as he places another kiss on your temple. You force yourself to duck away from him, ignoring the way he whines.

Carmy's hand slips further, tucking itself in your back pocket.

"Hey -" You start but are cut off by the way he uses his hand to pull you closer. He hums next to you, giving your ass another soft squeeze.

"What are you doing?" You turn to him, brow furrowed.

"Wouldn't hold my hand.." He says it easily, and it makes you scoff.

"You're ridiculous. Not drinking with you again.." You tell him, letting him lead you down the street still. Carmy grins and ducks to press a quick kiss to your neck.

"Carmen -" You sigh, but he's making a sound of protest already.

"Don't call me that," He grumbles, hand still resting in your pocket.

You're going to say something until Carmy nudges you to the left. "Turn here."

He doesn't let you argue as you turn the corner, and you can spot his apartment building further down. You inhale softly, and Carmen tucks you close.

"Almost there.." He tells you unnecessarily. He walks you through another crosswalk, and you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

You stop in your tracks as soon as you're in front of his building, which makes Carmy frown at you.

"What're y'doing?" He asks quietly, coming to stand in front of you.

"Getting a cab.." You mutter, focusing on unlocking your phone so you don't have to look at him when you say it. Carmy tsks softly, grabbing your phone before he slips it in your pocket.

"We'll call you a cab from inside, come on," Carmy tugs you towards his building by your belt loops, the hand from your pocket now along your waist. Your heart tugs at the thought, entertaining the idea a little before you shake your head.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Carmy," you tell him softly. Despite your words, you do want to go upstairs with him. Even if it means you'll end up back in his pants.

"Not leavin' y'down here by yourself. 'S not safe.." He insists, hand resting on your hip and tracing gentle patterns. Your heart pulls at the tone of his voice, soft and worried, as he tries to convince you.

"C'mon.. Nothin'll happen.." Carmy assures you, tugging at your belt loops again. He leans forward to press a quick kiss to your neck again. "Promise.."

The two things contradict each other. Carmy promising you and the way he's moved his kisses to your jaw now. Your resolve is slipping quickly.

"Carmy.." You sigh, and he hums before pulling away from you. His pupils are slightly dilated, still leaving a bright ring of blue around them. Carmy's watching you quietly as you fight with yourself over your decision.

"Nothin's gonna happen.." He whispers softly, bringing his over hand to your waist and bringing you closer. Whatever was left of your resolve faded when he squeezed your hips gently. You're nodding before you can stop yourself, and Carmy gives you a bright grin.

"Come on, then," He mutters, keeping a pair of fingers looped in your belt loops as he starts to tug you towards the building.

As soon as you're in the apartment you put as much space between you and Carmy as possible. You beeline for the kitchen island, setting your phone on the surface so you can find a decent ride home. You rest your elbows on the surface, holding your face in your hands as you read over the available companies to call.

"Fuck.." You hear Carmy mutter. You furrow your brow, peering up from your phone to look at him. He's got an arm wrapped around himself, and a hand over his mouth. Carmy's face is lightly flushed as he moves his gaze around the apartment. He hasn't moved much from the front door, but now he's looking for anything to distract him in the apartment.

"What?" You ask, following his gaze to the living room like it might hold some answer. You find nothing interesting that might tell you why Carmy's acting like this, and he won't look at you.

"'S really hard not to remember the uh- the last time I had you over.." Carmy coughs. You can feel your face warm at that, sitting up from the counter. You cross your arms over your chest, staring at your phone on the counter instead of at him.

"Thought we weren't gonna talk about that.." You get out, distinctly remembering the afternoon you two met at some café. You also remember how that ended, and the state you sent Carmy home in.

Carmy scoffs softly, and you can see him shaking his head in your periphery.

"We said we weren't doing this again, Carmen.." You tell him, reminding him of the conversation you had before....

"Don't call me that-" He starts again, and you're rolling your eyes at him.

"We're not doing this again so just... Shut up.." You mutter, focusing back on your phone. You tune out his grumbling, looking between reviews and arrival times. Anything to get you out of this apartment.

"Of course, the only good ones will take 20 minutes..." You complain, scrolling down in hopes that maybe there's one closer. You're too distracted, entertaining the idea of a 2-star cab less than ten minutes away when Carmy comes up beside you.

"You're not taking that one.." He says, tapping the counter beside your phone. He can tell you're considering it still, huffing before he eventually scrolls away for you.

"Hey-" You start, trying to go back but Carmy's already cleared half the line-up after that one.

"These are all..." He trails off, brow furrowing at the drivers. "Bad.."

He frowns when he says it and you're feeling more exasperated than before.

"How am I supposed to get home, then? If you're not going to sign off on any of them," You're rolling your eyes again. Carmy makes a noise and it makes you nudge your phone out of his reach.

There's a sound of protest as you move your phone away from him, stepping closer to you in an attempt to see the screen again. You give him a soft 'fuck off,' as you turn to shield your phone from him and try to find your spot again.

He shifts behind you so you can feel him peeking over your shoulder, and it feels like he's impossibly close now.

"Carm," you breathe softly. You can feel when he shifts his weight, leaning in closer to listen. The adjustment makes it more obvious now. He hums next to you, resting his hand on the counter to lean on.

You clear your throat softly, "You uh- I don't know how to um- Should I leave?"

"What? No-"

"You're pressing your boner against my ass, Carm." You say it plainly, turning so you can face him now.

"Oh, shit- uh-" Carmy starts. His face is flushed now, and he's clearing his throat awkwardly. "I didn't uh- I'm-"

He looks positively pathetic. Carmy's face is pink from alcohol and embarrassment as he refuses to meet your eyes, looking very pointedly at your phone on the counter. His finger taps an uneven rhythm against the surface while you watch him.

"I didn't mean- Not my intent.." He gets out. He glances at you quickly. "Wanted to get you home safe. 'S not just an excuse to-"

You cut him off with a kiss. He grunts out of surprise before kissing you back. He's quick to get his hands on you, his enthusiasm causing you to stumble back a little.

Carmy holds your face in both hands, like you might disappear if he doesn't keep you close enough. His mouth tastes like cheap beer and nicotine in a way that makes your stomach twist. You groan softly when Carmy moves his hand, using his thumb to pry your mouth open enough to slip his tongue in.

It's embarrassing the way you lean into him, bringing your hands to his hips to tug him close. Carmy lets out quiet moans against your mouth as he grinds his hips into yours, losing himself in your touch and taste. He sighs as he holds you close, reluctant to let you go for even a second.

"Last time, promise," Carmy breathes against your mouth, keeping you close with a hand against your neck. "Need y'so bad.."

Carmy doesn't need to persuade you much, you're already tugging his shirt up his chest. He helps you pull it over his head, before he's reconnecting your lips and his hands fall to your waist as soon as he's done. Carmy pulls you closer as he walks you backwards, leading you to what you assume to be his bedroom. You're surprised to make it past the living room on this visit.

Carmy moves his mouth to your jaw when you get to his room, kicking the door slightly shut behind you both. As soon as you're in the room, Carmy's tugging at the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. Once it's on the floor, he's making quick work of your button and zipper.

"These're cute.." Carmy mutters before he's pushing down your shorts. "Little stars on 'em.."

"Uh-huh.." You agree, tugging at the button of his jeans. He huffs softly at you, pushing your shorts until they fall to the ground while you're still struggling with his jeans. He pushes your hands away, making quick work of his pants before he shoves them down. Carmy pulls you back into a kiss, walking you backwards so you can both step out of your bottoms.

Carmy all but lifts you onto the bed, guiding you onto the center of the mattress before he follows. He drapes your legs over his thighs, both of which rest on either side under you, and from this angle you can feel his hard-on against you.

The feeling of him pressed against your core makes you whine, grabbing at his chain before you tug softly. Carmy gets the hint quickly, surging forward to kiss you again. His enthusiasm makes your teeth clash but that's nothing compared to the way he grinds into you gently. With him distracted it's easy to slip your hands down to his waist, sliding your thumbs into his waistband and tugging down. Carmy helps you shuffle his boxers down, slipping them under his knees and out of the way.

Despite your handling, Carmy pulls away from you. He leans back on his feet, taking in the vision of you in his bed.

"Fuck..." He brings a hand to cradle the side of your face, leaning forward again to give you a soft kiss. The head of his cock brushes the lace of your panties and he hisses against your mouth.

Once he's done, Carmy sits back and tugs off your panties. You squeal softly when he collects your legs, pressing your knees to your chest while he slides them off. Your legs are placed back over his thighs when he's done, your underwear joining the rest of your clothes on the floor.

You watch as he leans across to grab a pillow, tucking it under your hips. When he's settled again, Carmy holds your hip tight. He gives you a gentle squeeze as he brushes the head through your folds. He inhales softly as he coats himself in your slick, nudging against your entrance as he does.

His eyes meet yours when he looks up at you, cheeks flushed and curls mused. You maintain eye contact with him for a few seconds before you feel him push into you. Carmy's mouth falls open when he feels your walls around him. He can't fight the way his hips jerk and push him just past the tip, watching when you inhale sharply. You whine out, blinking up at him when he shifts his hips.

"Oh, baby..." He sighs, wiping away the tears that fall as you blink. You breathe shakily, squeezing his hips with your thighs. He shifts his hips back slightly, making you grab at his hand on your hip. You can't help as you lift your hips, encouraging him quietly. Carmy inhales softly as he slowly pushes deeper, eyes flicking from your face down to where he sinks into you.

"Oh, fuck me-" You choke out, head falling back against the bed. Carmy huffs above you and you'd roll your eyes if they weren't already shut.

"Tryin', sweetheart.." Carmy whispers as he places a kiss to your chest. He trails them up and along your neck, letting you catch your breath before he shifts his hips again. You can't help but whine at him, grabbing at his bicep as he pushes in further.

Carmy swears softly once his hips are flush against your skin, leaning down to hide his face just under your ear. The movement changes the angle slightly and you groan quietly.

"Fuck.." He sighs, rolling his hips gently into you. The movement makes you inhale softly, dragging your hand up his arm to slide around his neck.

"Been awhile, baby?" Carmy asks against your hair. You answer him with a whine that makes him huff, lifting his head to look at you.

"Not since me..?" He punctuates the question with another roll of his hips.

"Shut up-" You get out, before you're tugging him into another kiss. One that he reciprocates with enthusiasm. Despite his teasing, Carmy stays still until you give him the go-ahead, content to grind against you slowly.

You squeeze his hips with your thighs, rocking your hips into him. It's enough of a signal to Carmy that he gives you a shallow thrust, which you reward with a moan.

With your encouragement, Carmy gives a sharper thrust. He starts a steady pace, resting his forearm next to your head as he grunts above you.

Carmy threads his fingers through your hair while he kisses your face. He uses the hold on your hair to bare your neck to him, nipping at the skin gently. You press your nose against his forearm as he guides your rocking hips with his other hand.

It's easy to get lost in the feeling, arching into him as he fucks you. The hand from your hip slips down to your core, thumb brushing over your clit. The added stimulation makes you whine, rutting against him. Carmy pushes himself up, flexing his hips when he does.

The movement changes where he hits with each thrust, brushing up against the spongy spot along your walls. You inhale sharply, bucking your hips to feel him there again. Carmen gets the hint quickly before he's brushing that spot with nearly every thrust.

The feeling makes you cry out, grabbing at his hands on your hips. Each thrust paired with the tight circles of his thumb has the band in your stomach builds steadily. You gasp when you meet Carmy's eyes, legs squeezing him tight as your head falls back.

Carmy watches you fall apart, eyes going from your face to where he fucks into you. The sound fills the room and you'd be embarrassed if you could remember which way is up. Your hips jerk into Carmy's, grabbing at his forearms as your orgasm washes over you. You choke out a moan, gasping when he meets your gaze, picking up his pace. Carmy works you through your release until you're whining at the stimulation, his hips bucking into you with muddled precision.

He's swearing quietly before you feel him pull out, whining at the loss. He shushes you gently, resting back on his knees. You can barely hear the sound of his hand fisting his cock under the mix of slurred words and moans from his mouth. Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to him, chest rising and falling heavily while you catch your breath. You know by the sounds leaving his lips when he comes.

Carmy's release is hot on your stomach, ropes of it covering your chest. He groans softly above you, the movements of his hand slowing down.

You don't pay attention to Carmy as he moves above you. Your chest rises and falls heavily, listening to the sound of both of your breathing while you come back together. You can feel the shift when Carmy settles back between your legs, opening your eyes slowly.

You're surprised to see him with his phone in hand, swiping between a few things while you watch him. You blink at him, taking in his mused curls and flushed skin.

"What're y'doin'?" You get out, and Carmy looks like a deer in headlights. He's quick to toss his phone to the side, instead bringing his hands to your face.

"Nothin', sweetheart. Jus' so pretty like this.." He tells you before he gives you a quick kiss. His hips press flush against the back of your thighs, letting his cock rest heavily against your stomach. You make a noise as he ruts his hips softly, pulling away from him.

"Carmen Berzatto.." You mutter, not getting very far from Carmy's lips. He groans above you, capturing your lips again to distract from the way his dick twitches against you.

"Don't say that," He grunts, giving another rut along your stomach. You twinge at the way his movements smear cum across your skin, sighing against his mouth.

"Can't be serious.." You mutter, getting it out as Carmy moves to kiss your jaw.

"I'm sorry, baby... Can't help it, been a while..." He presses a kiss under your ear as he shifts his hips back to the line the head of his cock against your entrance. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek before he pulls away from you.

"Think you can give me another, though.." He gets out before pressing his hips forwards. And you're not one to complain at the way he's filling you again.

[sparklystarrrr]

Kiss the... Octopus?

Synopsis: You're in the middle of signing a contract and two silly eels decide it’s a good idea to push you two into the deep end of confessing your very obvious feelings for each other…

Contains: Azul x Gn! Reader, Tweels being annoying, reader is called Prefect at some points, reader goes through every emotion possible, blushy Zuzu, Azul is always scheming... and being a lil flirty?, probably ooc Azul but it's okay bcs he's pretty, shy reader

"...In return for this favor I'm providing you, you must give me your time as a worker for the Monstro Lounge for 3 months, do we have a deal, Prefect (Y/n)?" Azul's smooth voice said. I didn't really know why I was in this room and why I was asking Azul for help with bringing my grades up. I knew it was bad news to be around him, but it was so hard not to! I thought I knew better than to sign one of his contracts but I guess not seeing the situation I'm in right now...

The Tweels stood menacingly next to the door of the VIP Lounge with their sly smirks pulling at the skin on their cheeks. Octavinelle, why do you have to be so fucking scary! My hands shook a little while staring down at the golden sparkling contract laid on the desk between me and Azul, reading over everything I was about to get myself into. I was really about to sign 3 months of my life in Twisted Wonderland being a server for the Monstro Lounge, huh?

I could barely talk as the hesitation ran through my whole body. Azul sat expectantly waiting for me with his while gloved hands clasped in front of him on the table. His perfectly snide smirk pulled at his lightly flushed lips and suddenly I just couldn't stop looking... AH I mean I was just staring from his face to the contract! His eyes bore into my skull and I felt just a small shiver run down my spine that went all the way down to my toes.

There you see him Sitting there across the way He don't got a lot to say But there's something about him And you don't know why But you're dying to try You wanna kiss the octopus...

I heard a song from behind me that felt like it was pounding inside my head, yet it sort of sounded like Jade and Floyd, perhaps I was just hearing things.. my cheeks flushed as I looked at his lips longer than I had intended to. Why couldn't these feelings just rest!"This contract does not need to be signed now if you're feeling hesitant to do so. We can always come back to it tomorrow." His voice broke me from my trance as he probably took note of my suddenly frazzled state.

Yes, you want him Look at him, you know you do Possible he wants you too There is one way to ask him It don't take a word Not a single word Go on and kiss the octopus...

My cheeks flushed to a bright red"O-oh, no it's okay Azul! We can do it now! Could you just... uh... reread the contract?" I said while my hands jolted around me in a shy frenzy, my face pink from embarrassment. I heard a bit of snickering from behind me and I turned around to see Jade with his hand over his mouth and Floyd biting his bottom lip with a dopey grin on his face while glancing over to Jade. I grumbled, physically deflating while they looked at me with their grins and clearly held back cackles. I turned back to Azul with my deadpanned expression and he smiled at me. "I'll reread it dear Prefect, come sit."His hand motioned for me to sit back down, his voice sounded just a tad bit gentler, or... was I hearing things?

His voice was quite enchanting. It was smooth and the way he spoke left me on the edge of my seat just wanting him to keep speaking. Although he kept reciting the contract my head just couldn't focus on the words for the life of me. His suave, deep voice practically glided through my ears and it was just so attractive... maybe signing the next few months of my life away to work for him wouldn't be as bad as I thought? After every few sentences he peered up at me just above his glasses. His silvery eyes made my heart skip a beat. It seemed he noticed how hot my face was because a grin formed on his face, turning his cheeks a light shade of pink as well. The tension in this room made my whole body feel like it was on fire and my hands grip the arms of the plush chair he coaxed me to sit in.

Sha-la-la-la-la-la My oh my Look like the Prefect too shy Ain't gonna kiss the octopus Sha-la-la-la-la-la Ain't that sad? Ain't it a shame? Too bad, they gonna miss the octopus

He finished the contract reread with a grin still plastered on his face, "So, dear Prefect, is it a deal?" He scooted his chair closer, his clasped hands moving even closer to my side of the table. My hands moved on their own, clasping and moving closer to his hands making an inch gap between them. My lips parted and suddenly they felt incredibly chapped. My throat dried quicker than a drought and suddenly speaking without stuttering was impossible. "A-ah um... Yeah!"There was hesitation in my voice and a heavy stutter, I was sure he would notice.

Instead of ignoring it like he would his other clients, he chuckled, "My my (y/n), are you alright?" His white gloved hand pressed against my clammy stiff hands. I felt his thumb rub gently against the top of my hands, suddenly my anxiety and fear subdued and I could finally get out of my head. "Yeah I'm fine Azul... just a bit flustered, is all." I sighed. "Mmh, I could understand." He smiled. "If you'd like we can perhaps call this off for another day?" He looked deeply into my eyes, his hat tipping just over his brows.

Now's your moment Floating in a blue lagoon Prefect, you better do it soon No time will be better He don't say a word And he won't say a word Until you kiss the octopus

His hand slid between my previously clasped hands and he brought his other hand closer to hold my hands in his. They were warm through the cold white leather of his gloves. "Actually... I was thinking that maybe we could make a new contract?" I muttered. His brows lifted "And what is this proposal, Dear Prefect?"I shifted in the seat and brought myself just a bit closer to him, our noses a couple of inches away. "Perhaps... I could spend every weekend sharing a candle lit dinner with you and in turn... you call me yours?"

I never knew I was that bold, but here we are. My face heated up a considerable amount at my statement and Azul's face turned a bright pink. He slipped one hand away from mine to adjust his glasses while his other hand tightly gripped onto mine. "W-well, Prefect, that is certainly a bold statement." He adjusted the collar of his shirt and his lips formed a wobbly smile that seemed a lot more sincere than his mischievous grin while I was signing the contract.

He took a deep breath to compose himself,"...Would you like to sign this contract in signature or in a kiss, dear (y/n)?" I giggled at his cheeky remark,"A kiss, obviously! Gosh, I've been staring at them this whole time" I jumped from my chair and pulled Azul's hand to drag him closer to me. Our lips were so close to touching when we suddenly bumped our foreheads in the heat and adrenaline of the moment... "O-ouch!" I yelped. We both grabbed our heads and hissed at the pain while two eels snickered behind us. We glanced at each other with shy smiles.

"How about we try again, (y/n)?"He adjusted his glasses once more. I smiled and without further words I leaned into a shaky kiss on his surprisingly soft lips. I pulled back with a hand pressed on his shoulder while his rested stiffly on the top of my arm. We stared at each other wide-eyed.

Behind us, the Tweels high-fived at their achievement. "YAHOO! Ya finally did it Azul~ How ya feelin'? Did ya like our singin'?"" Floyd slurred while slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Yes, It's been a pain watching Azul float around with these feelings hidden under the surface. I'm pleased to see these results." Jade spoke calmly while creeping up behind me.

"Would you two make yourselves productive? I have a treasure to spend my time with."Azul said and dragged me off to his room, holding my close as if he was showing me off to the deep sea of Octavinelle students. I was a sputtering mess... "Azul, were those two really singing that whole time..?" I shuddered and suddenly felt like melting in embarrassment,"Yes, (y/n). How else would I have set the mood during our contract signing?" He said as if it was common knowledge. I was practically melting...Who knew Azul was such a charmer?

This was inspired by this one fic I read but I don't remember the author :((

It was a Riddle x Reader with the same song and a similar story line and I can't stop thinking about it!

[sk1ndx0]

Love me not (Part 2)

Chishiya x fem!reader

Part 1

TW: kinda OOC Chishiya? Maybe? Mentions of smut

Summary: Chishiya is spiraling.. he doesn’t actually feel anything for you, does he..?

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

This is the third meeting you’ve come to.. and yet, there’s still tension between you and Chishiya. Chishiya sat across from you at the executive table. Why the fuck was he so.. out of it? Nervous? His face didn’t show it but his body language… he was all tense. His shoulders were tense, his posture was tense.. everything was wrong. Of course, you couldn’t notice that.

You looked at him, your eyes soft, but eventually looking back up at Hatter. You didn’t speak, you just listened. That was unusal, even for you.

Everything seemed out of place now. To Chishiya, at least.

You looked like you were having the time of your life. You seemed so attentive, and kind towards the others. He thought that was reserved for him. Only him. No one else.

Oh god, now is he jealous? What the fuck is up with him?? He hated this so much. He shoved his hands in his pockets a little harder than intended and ended up hitting his knuckle on the side of the table..

He looked down, breathing in sharply.

Chishiya needed out of here.

As soon as the meeting ended, Chishiya got up, nearly bolting out of the room with his hands in his pockets, and his head down. He didn’t even wait for you.

You shrugged off the feeling that you did something wrong, and walked out behind him.

You pretty much had to run to catch up to him, “Hey, Chishiya-”

He ignored you. No surprise there. You tried again,

“Chishi-”

“What? What is it?” Chishiya finally turned around, eyes you like you were a foreign thing to him.

“Are you okay?” You mutter, looking at him and taking a few steps closer.

“Never been better.” He fidgeted with the hem of his white jacket with one hand.

“You sure?”

“Y/N.”

You stare at him, your eyebrows furrowing as you cross your arms. “Chishiya.”

You stare at each other for a good few minutes before Chishiya lets out a sigh.

“It’s cute when you try to be serious. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He quickly stated before turning on his heel and walking off. Normally now. He felt.. lighter somehow?

You just stared as you watched him walk away. You knew he wasn’t a really touchy or really anything to do with emotion, kind of person. You just exhaled and turned to go to your own room.

Maybe you’d get through to him. One of these days.

———

You lied in bed. You usually didn’t sleep, because someone was keeping you up, or partying and people downstairs kept you up. It was a never ending cycle of sleep deprivation..

So you did what you would usually do.

Go to Chishiya’s room.

You hoped and prayed that he was in the mood because honestly you were.

You knocked on his door before cracking it open slightly. You looked in, “Chishiya? Can I come in?” You softly spoke before you heard a faint, “Go ahead.”

You walked in, shutting the door behind you. He was lying down, his legs over the edge of the bed.

You gulped slightly, chuckling softly, “What’re you doing?”

Chishiya gave a soft smirk, acknowledging you. “Lying down.” He suddenly took a hand out of his pocket, patting his leg.

You rolled your eyes, staring at the gesture before taking your seat beside him, only to annoy him since you knew what he really wanted.

Chishiya sits up, looking at you through his lashes. God, there was that stare again. He leans back, setting himself up on his arms. You froze.

Huh??

You softly giggled, nudging him with your shoulder, “What, didn’t sleep? You look all droopy.” You thought about your statement for a while, “Do you ever?”

“What’s it matter?” He mumbled, looking at you. He looked you up and down, almost admiring every curve of your body.

“What’d you come here for?” He suddenly questioned.

You hesitate, giving him a look. You give him a half-smile.

“I see.” He chuckled, even though you didn’t say anything, he knew what you wanted. He knew what you needed.

The next thing you knew, you were tangled in the sheets.

———

The next morning, you turned to look at Chishiya. He was there, but he was asleep. It was his room after all. You get up, your legs feeling like jelly from the night before.

He really didn’t hold back this time..

You gathered your things, putting on your clothes. You looked down at Chishiya’s seemingly asleep form. You turn to walk out when you hear him mumble..

“So eager to leave me by myself?”

You turned back around slowly, staring at him. He was awake now, sitting up and resting against the headboard of the bed. His eyes bore into yours. Calculating.. slightly soft.

“I should’ve known. You don’t sleep.”

“Sometimes.” He added.

You shook her head, giggling softly, “Most of the time.” You looked down at him.

Chishiya patted the spot next to him on the edge of the bed. A silent offering.

You hesitated. Suddenly, your shoes were the most interesting thing in the room.

“I’m gonna go shower.. in my own room. You gonna play a game today?” You asked, brushing off what he offered easily.

Chishiya tensed up slightly. He didn’t like being brushed off like that. He softly scoffed, resting his arm on his knee. “Probably not. My visa isn’t running out any time soon.”

You nodded, “Alright.. I’ll see you later, okay? You know where to find me.” You shot him a smile before walking out of the room, shutting the door behind you.

Chishiya softly exhaled through his nose, staring at his now empty bed.

He’s changing.

———

Since you honestly needed a shower, you took one. After you got out, you decided to get something to eat. You almost pretty much starved yourself every so why not take a little bite of something?

The beach had food somewhere around here.. right? Yeah. Not just alcohol and drugs.. right? Yeah. You went down the elevator, going into the kitchen and just grabbing some snacks. Some of your favorites.

“What’re you doing?” You immediately snap around to face an executive, Ann.

“Uhh.. eating something?” you say nervously as you hold up a pack of cookies. Chishiya’s favorite, to be exact.

“There’s an executive meeting. We want you there.”

“Oh..” You mumbled, surprised and kind of nervous since you knew Chishiya would be there. “When is it?”

“Right now. Come on.” Ann said quickly, turning on her heel with crossed arms.

Jeez she’s intimidating…oh wait-

“Hey can I eat first?” You quickly call out, walking after her.

No answer.

Great.. now I’ll be hungry and nervous. Never a good combo..

You put down your snacks on the kitchen table, hoping no one would steal them in the meantime.

———

You sat beside Chishiya this time, hoping he wouldn’t move away. He glanced at you, huffing slightly and shifting his position to seem more attentive at Hatter.

You sigh softly, then suddenly feel eyes glued to the back of your head. You knew it wasn’t Chishiya.. no his eyes were on Hatter’s rambling form. You glanced beside you, not getting a good enough look to who was staring at you.

“Niragi. Are you paying attention?” Hatter suddenly cut out of his monologue.

“Hah? Yeah I’m listening.” Niragi spoke up. You looked at him, and noticed that his eyes bore into yours. Chishiya turned to stare at him with a cold and detached look.

You slowly turned back around, tensing up slightly. Hatter continued,

“If you aren’t going to listen, you might as well leave. We have a fine replacement for you right here. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You snapped up. In all honesty you weren’t paying attention either. “Uh.. I-”

“She’s not exactly a good fit.” Chishiya spat. “She’d be almost exactly like Niragi. Only without the asshole attitude.”

Was he trying to save me or insult me? You thought.

Niragi let out a low laugh, and you snapped to turn around to stare at him. Niragi winked at you, smirking and turning his attention to Hatter.

You froze up slightly, turning back around until you saw out of the corner of your eye, something that kind of scared you.

Chishiya was glaring.

Not at you, of course, he was glaring at Niragi. He never glared, just gazed.. or stared. Chishiya flexed his hands in his pockets, refraining from reaching out to wrap an arm around you.

Okay what the hell is happening to him?

First, he cuddled you.. (despite it being really short), he called you cute, felt jealous, and now this?

He might as well be fucked.

A/N: Okay, people really liked the first one, so I plan to definitely make a series of this!

@ankababy @adanfore

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[ch33z3grits]

Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

warnings: 18+ mdni, heavy angst, parental issues (especially daddy issues), mentions of sexual coercion, description of panic attacks, CRASHING OUT, dark romance, manipulation, possessiveness/obsessiveness, mentions of arson

word count: 11,953

a/n: ngl this part has a lot going on y'all 😭 but stuff is really hitting the fan now! i rushed editing because i'm working for the rest of the night, so pls forgive any mistakesss. Enjoy! Also, shout out to all those who comment and reblog 🥹🫶🏾 i greatly appreciate it

Terry's song: Floor 555-XXXTENTACION | Camille's song: I'm Tired-Labrinth, Zendaya

Pt. Seven

Terry

Terry seemed stoic as he looked around the unassuming bar, but a dull anxiety twisted in his chest. The cryptic message he received the night before, from someone claiming to be a friend, had gnawed at him all day. His mind went through endless scenarios as he sat in back-to-back meetings with Houston's top attorneys. He barely registered the names and faces around him, his thoughts consumed with concern about who he could possibly be meeting. Was it a set-up? Was it just bullshit? He couldn’t wait for 7:00 PM to arrive so he could finally wrap his mind around the situation.

But now, the time had finally come. He slid into a booth, his eyes briefly darting to the clock on the wall. 6:40. Twenty minutes early, just the way he liked it. He didn’t want to walk into any more surprises. To distract himself, he tapped away at his phone. But his attention shifted as he sensed someone approach his table. At first, he glanced up lazily, thinking that it was probably a waiter or another patron. But his eyes did a double take when he recognized the familiar cut of the woman’s hair. His pulse quickened in surprise, but he kept his composure as she slid into the seat across from him.

It was Kali. Camille’s doting, loyal best friend. Someone Terry had crossed paths with only a handful of times. Since receiving that message, Terry had spent countless hours turning over possible identities in his mind, trying to predict who the mystery person might be. But he had never once considered her. Now, as she sat across from him, he couldn’t help the storm of questions flooding his mind: How did she get my number? Why all the secrecy? What does she know about me and Camille?

She gave him a partial smile as she set her bag next to her, prompting Terry to slide his phone into his pocket.

“Terry, it’s good to see you again,” she said, folding her hands in front of her. Terry quickly analyzed her body language and demeanor. Although friendly, she was keeping her guard up. Her no-nonsense attitude was evident in the minor stiffness of her shoulders and the seriousness of her eyes. Her smile was polite, but it also held a quiet intensity. This isn’t just a conversation, Terry thought. It’s an interrogation. He tilted his head, letting his curiosity crack through his facade. “It’s good to see you too, Kali. Forgive me if I’m jumping ahead, but what is this about?”

She drummed her fingers on the table slightly, never breaking eye contact with him.

“I know you're probably wondering why I had to be anonymous when I reached out,” she began. “But I needed to see if my gut was right. I needed to see if you really have feelings for Camille.” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “Honestly, Terry... I just want the best for my friend,” she said, her voice softening. “She’s such a sweet girl who deserves someone who will treat her the way she deserves to be treated. And from what I’ve seen, that might be you.” Terry almost smirked.

“You probably didn’t realize it,” she continued, her eyes narrowing slightly, “but I saw the way you two were at the hospital. The way you looked at each other. All that unspoken tension. I even noticed how you kissed her hand.” She lowered her voice, the words taking on a more confidential tone.

Terry clenched his jaw at the mention of the hand-kissing. He should have been more aware of his surroundings that day, but he was too caught up in his mistake. The memory of that moment, the tenderness in his touch, the closeness between him and Camille, made him feel vulnerable. Please don’t use this against me, he thought.

“That’s how I got your number, by the way,” she added. “You wrote it down on her visitor sheet.” She paused, taking a slow sip of the water a waiter had brought earlier, her eyes still locked on his. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say,” she resumed, “is that I like you for her. But that’s just based on what I’ve seen so far. In reality, I don’t really know you. So I’m here to see if helping you out is worth it. If it’s the right thing for me to do.” 

Terry’s initial surprise morphed into respect. He leaned back slightly in his seat, letting her words settle. She had come at him with such directness, such unflinching confidence. It wasn’t easy to impress him so quickly, but Kali had done it with grace and precision. Terry’s posture softened. He wasn’t worried anymore. He was more than capable of getting Kali’s blessing.

Terry folded his arms across his chest and leaned forward. His voice was calm but laced with a hint of amusement. “I gotta say, Kali,” he began, “I respect your approach.” He leaned in just a fraction more. “Please, ask away. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

Kali hummed thoughtfully. “I’ve done my homework on you,” she said, her tone remaining serious but laced with a hint of admiration. “I know the basics. Your military background, your golden-boy status in the legal world, and the wealth you’ve accumulated from your various businesses. But what really interests me is where your mind is when it comes to Camille.”

She leaned in just a little more. “So, let me ask you this. In a perfect world, where Camille wasn’t engaged to that motherfucker Aston, what would your intentions be with her?”

Terry couldn’t help but let a soft chuckle escape. His thoughts shifted to a world where Camille was free, where no one stood between them. The idea was a fantasy he had imagined more than once.

“In that world?” he began. “My intentions would be exactly what they are now. Instead, I could actually act on those intentions fully. I would court her, take my time, treat her like a princess. And then, marriage would be the end goal.” His words were measured but heartfelt as he watched her reaction. “She’s far too precious to settle for someone so… undeserving,” he grumbled bitterly.

Terry let that sink in for a moment, before continuing. “Not to be cocky, but I know Camille would love being with me. I’d cater to her every whim, she’d never have to worry for any reason.”

He propped his arms on the table, his voice more vulnerable. “But more than that, Kali... I can honestly say that I’m in love with her. I want nothing less than the best for her. I’d move heaven and earth to make sure she never had to feel stressed or unhappy ever again. I would happily give her that life, at whatever cost.” 

Kali practically turned into butter right before him. Her eyes softened with respect and admiration, her shoulders relaxed. Even though she simply nodded, he knew she was impressed by his response. He had her. 

But as much as he enjoyed the feeling of winning her favor, Terry’s mind was already working. He needed to steer this conversation in a direction that would give him something in return. He needed to understand what Kali could offer him at this moment. So he turned to his favorite manipulation tactic: feigning innocence.

Terry offered her the sweetest smile. “I’m hoping I’ve passed your little test, Kali,” he said, his voice laced with deliberate humility. “But now, I have to ask. What do you really think I can do? You see, Camille... she’s just so loyal. Nothing I do gets through to her. Every time I try to suggest that I’m interested, she shuts me out. I’ve been nothing but patient, but her engagement feels like a wall. I don’t think I stand a chance. What could I possibly do to break through that?”

For the first time since she sat down, Kali’s confidence wavered. Her gaze dropped, fingers absently using her straw to stir her water. A heavy sigh escaped her lips before her eyes reluctantly met Terry’s once more.

“Honestly, if you’d asked me this yesterday, I wouldn’t have had an answer. Camille would never have even entertained the idea of leaving Aston. But now…” Kali’s voice faltered, clearly holding back something crucial. Terry sensed her hesitation and silently urged her to open up. She sighed again. Sensing an opportunity, Terry decided to give her a nudge.

“Hey, whatever we talk about here stays between us,” Terry said, his tone both reassuring and insistent. She nodded.

“Not to put her business out there, but something happened last night. I don’t know what exactly, but now she’s actually considering leaving him. Like to the point she’s making plans to move out of their apartment. He’s always made her unhappy since…never mind that…” Kali waved her hand dismissively, making Terry internally groan at her refusal to dive into more details. “But recently, things have been different. And whatever last night was, it might have given her the courage she needed. She deserves so much better, but I know how hesitant she can be when it comes to breaking free from him. So, I was hoping…”

Terry’s blood boiled at the thought of how Aston had been treating his woman and the toll it had taken on her. But Terry’s smile remained soft. “So, you want me to pull her away from him. Be more forward with her about how I really feel? Let her know she has options outside of him?” he chuckled.

Kali bit her lip, a gleam of mischief flickering in her eyes.

Terry nodded, his mind already racing through possibilities. She had just given him the green light, blessed him with her approval. He could work with this, he could push harder now. He would take advantage of the fracture in the relationship. And he would start with the little bits of information Kali casually dropped. By the end of the week, Camille would have no reason left to stay with Aston. He’d make sure of it. Hell, he might even use a particularly important event next Saturday to finalize everything.

Camille

Camille sat on Kali’s couch, her body stiff as the person across from her continued to speak in a distant voice about her return to Aston. Each word barely registered in her foggy mind. The past almost twenty-four hours of drowning in sadness had left her empty and numb. But perhaps, in some strange way, this numbness was a blessing. If she could feel something right now, she wasn’t sure what would happen. The thought of lashing out frightened her, so she sat in stillness, her face unreadable, hoping the emptiness would be enough to hold her together.

Camille couldn’t wrap her mind around it. The man sitting across from her, who just moments ago, listened as she shared what had happened to her the previous night, was now relentlessly urging her to go back to Aston. He wanted her to pretend and put on a mask of normalcy, as if everything was fine. After everything she had shared, all the raw confessions about how miserable she had been, this was his answer? Forgiveness, he said. His words felt like a slap. She couldn’t understand how he could be so insistent.

The man who was supposed to love her more deeply than anyone else, the one she was supposed to look to for guidance and safety. He was supposed to be her protector, the number one man in her life. But now, as she sat there, looking through him, she grew more numb as the seconds passed by. He wasn’t really her father. No, he was a puppeteer. Pulling away at her strings, trying to control the most important aspects of her life. How could he do this? How could he look at her, after everything, and still try to bend her to his will?

“Camille, sweetheart, please, just hear me out,” Colin DeWaterson Sr. said, his voice heavy. He leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the table. “Now, what Aston did, what happened, it was absolutely unacceptable,” he continued, his voice tight. “And I will make sure he gets what he deserves,” he added with a firmness that felt like the faintest attempt at reassurance.

His gaze softened slightly as he continued, his tone shifting to something gentler. “But Camille, this was just a blip in the relationship. A freak accident, something that shouldn’t have happened. Aston’s never hurt you before, right?” His eyes searched hers, seeking any flicker of agreement, any sign that she might see things his way. “He was very apologetic when we talked. I promise, I’m positive this will never happen again,” he insisted, as though his belief in Aston’s remorse superseded her feelings.

Camille forced herself to tune back into the conversation, but her only movement was the subtle shift of her eyes locking onto her father. Her body remained coiled in a protective, defensive posture. Legs drawn up tightly against her chest, arms wrapped around her knees. She wanted to disappear into herself, a small, silent ball, and hide from the world that was pressing in around her.

As he droned on, Camille couldn’t even begin to understand why her mom and dad were there in the first place. Surely, Aston’s father must’ve reached out to them after hearing about his son’s outburst, triggering the DeWatersons to catch the first flight to Houston in some desperate attempt to smooth things over. But how they had gotten Kali’s address was beyond her. She never gave it to them, and she sure as hell hadn’t invited them. But the more she thought about it, the more upset she became, quiet anger rising within her like a slow-burning fire.

Her father hadn’t even bothered to wish her a happy birthday yesterday. But now, here he was, moving mountains to fly all the way to Houston, all because the McCoy family had gotten involved. Aston’s tantrum, Aston’s mistake, Aston’s chaos, that’s all he cared about. The nerve of it. He couldn’t even acknowledge her pain or her needs, but somehow, he found the energy to cater to the McCoy family’s crisis. All she could focus on was the simmering anger building within her, the bitter taste of being ignored and forgotten and used as a pawn.

Camille’s gaze flickered toward her mother, sitting silently beside her father, compliant as ever. She caught her mother’s worried expression. It was a look Camille had seen before, but never like this, not with this intensity. It should have been there. Camille had always gone back to Aston, no matter what he did. Every betrayal, every careless mistake, every reckless act of disregard for her well-being. She had forgiven him time and again, from the cheating, to the times he’d forgotten to pay their rent, to the unforgivable moment when he tried to press charges against Kali. Each time, Camille had swallowed her pride and returned to him, hoping that things would be different going forward.

But now, everything was different. This was the line she would not cross. She was certain. She would not be one of those women who stayed silent, who allowed a man to abuse her and walk away without consequences. The thought of Aston’s hands on her struck her with a cold wave of disgust. She wasn’t going back this time, no matter how many times her parents tried to convince her to forgive him. 

“Camille, sweetheart, can you please listen to me?” Her father’s voice pulled her attention back to him, but she didn’t respond. She just stared at him, cold and unwavering. Her father sighed before he turned helplessly toward her mother.

“Can you please talk to your daughter?” He pleaded as he gestured toward Camille’s unmoving form. Her mother, however, simply bit her lip, as she shook her head and lowered her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Colin…” Her mother’s voice was barely audible. “But you got us into this mess yourself.” She paused, her voice tightening as she met her husband’s eyes. “You tell her what you did. Why we’re here.”

Her father’s shoulders sagged as he exhaled shakily, his fingers tapping nervously against the arms of his chair. He deliberately avoided meeting Camille’s gaze, which had shifted to something more curious now, searching his face with intensity.

“Sweetheart, I-I really messed up, okay?” His voice faltered as he spoke. “Please, try not to hold it against me, okay?” He searched her expression, hoping for some flicker of understanding, of forgiveness, but Camille only narrowed her eyes. Why is he acting like this? she thought, her heart racing. Her father stumbled on, voice trembling. “Camille, I’m sorry…b-but you can’t back away from this marriage–”

Before he could finish, Camille cut him off with a humorless snort, the first sound she had made since their arrival.

He let out an awkward, nervous laugh. But it was her mother who broke the silence next, her patience finally wearing thin. With a sharp sigh, she spoke in a tone so uncharacteristic of her, it made Camille’s brow raise in surprise.

“Colin, hurry up and tell her,” she snapped, as though she had finally had enough of quietly enduring her husband’s decisions. This wasn’t the gentle, reserved woman Camille had always known, and that unsettled Camille more than anything her father had said.

Colin cleared his throat, trying to gather his words. He closed his eyes again. “Camille... this marriage isn’t just about you marrying into a rich family,” he started, his voice wavering but firm. “Hell, it isn’t even about me trying to make this family as socially relevant as possible. It’s because I…I-I made a mistake. Probably the worst mistake of my life. Now, we owe that family a lot of money, enough to destroy us financially if this agreement doesn’t go through. Your inheritance. Your siblings’ inheritances. All of our property... Your mother’s cancer treatments, your brother’s psychiatric care... all of that will be ripped from us if you don’t marry Aston. It's all laid out in a legally binding agreement.”

Camille’s body went rigid as her mind tried to process what he was saying. She sprung up into a sitting position, every muscle in her body tight, her hands gripping the edge of the couch.

“What?” Her voice cracked as she barely managed to squeeze out the word. We would lose everything? she thought.

She had already accepted the fact that she would lose her inheritance, that she could never have the life she had sacrificed so much for if she refused to marry Aston. But her family, they were too dependent on the luxuries they had, too tied to their privileges. Losing everything, their money, their possessions, would send them spiraling into a darkness she knew they wouldn’t survive. And her mother’s treatments, her brother’s care…those were essential for them to keep going. The repercussions would be catastrophic. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let that happen. She loved them more than anything.

But she couldn’t stop the rage that surged through her. “And you fucking agreed to that?” Her voice shook, unable to comprehend that level of betrayal. “In a goddamn contract?!”

Her chest tightened and her vision blurred as the first signs of a panic attack crept in. Her heart pounded in her ears, each beat growing louder, faster. This isn’t real. This can’t be real. Her stomach churned violently.

“Camille, please... j-just let me finish,” her father stammered, his voice cracking as he gestured with trembling hands for her to calm down. She let out a bitter laugh, one that felt foreign in her own mouth. “Yes, please, continue,” her voice full of disgust, wiping tears from her face. He winced at her tone, a ripple of guilt passing over his face, but he pressed on.

“This whole... fiasco has spooked the McCoys,” he continued, his voice low, almost apologetic now. “They want to add a new clause to the contract, and you’ll have to sign it this time. For us to be released from this debt... you’ll have to marry Aston within the next sixty days, and promise to get p-pregnant before the year ends.” He finished, his chin tucking into his chest as if the shame of it were too much to bear.

Camille’s body began to shake uncontrollably, her ears rang, and her leg bounced rapidly. This was beyond anything she had imagined, beyond a nightmare. She was suffocating, and there was nowhere to run.

A sob tore through Camille as she dropped her head into her hands. This can’t be fucking happening, she thought.

Her father’s voice broke through her spiraling mind. “Camille, I know this is hard to digest, and it’s not fair to you at all! But please... our family has no other way out of this. We need you to reconsider–”

Before he could finish, the creak of the front door opening interrupted him, followed by the sight of Kali standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock. But once she saw Camille sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, her surprise turned into fury. Without a second thought, she shoved the door open further, propping it open with her body.

“Kali,” Mr. DeWaterson quickly shifted gears, his voice laced with forced enthusiasm. “It’s lovely to see you again–”

“I think it’s time for you both to leave,” she declared, her tone final. She propped the door open wider, a clear invitation to get out, leaving no room for negotiation.

Mr. DeWaterson paused for a moment, caught off guard by Kali’s assertiveness. But after a brief moment of hesitation, he rose from his chair, knowing that any confrontation right now wouldn’t work in his favor. He straightened himself and quickly walked through the door, avoiding Kali’s cutting gaze.

His wife lingered for a moment longer, her face showing that she was conflicted. Her eyes were on Camille, her heart visibly torn as she watched her daughter crumble. But eventually, she just patted Camille’s shoulder lightly. Without another word, she reluctantly followed her husband. Before stepping out, she gave Camille one last glance, guilt and sorrow flashing across her features. But her eyes landed on Kali’s sneer and the moment was over.

Kali slammed the door before rushing to Camille’s side. Although she didn’t have the words, she wrapped her arms around her trembling friend, trying her best to give her comfort.

A few minutes later, Camille’s tears finally stopped. The ache in her chest dulled. The numbness returned. But something was different about it. This numbness ushered in defiance. Rebellion. She was tired of being suppressed by obligation, tired of doing what others expected of her.

No matter how upset she was, she couldn’t let her family spiral into destitution, couldn’t watch them lose everything they relied on. As much as it tore her apart, she knew what she had to do. She would sign whatever damn contract her father needed her to, no matter how horrible the terms were. She would sign her life away to someone she could barely stand to look at, someone who had already taken so much from her. But for now, she was prioritizing her freedom.

She decided that the next sixty days would be the most liberating of her life. No more playing the dutiful daughter. No more walking on eggshells or adhering to the suffocating rules imposed on her for as long as she could remember. She would finally do the things she’d longed for. And she wouldn’t apologize for any of it. Not to her parents, not to anyone. She was done living for their approval, done trying to meet their endless expectations. No matter the consequences.

And next Saturday? It was the perfect opportunity to start.

Watkins & Grant’s highly anticipated summer gala, an event that raised money for various charitable causes, was just days away. It wasn’t just a night of exquisite food and lavish entertainment, it was an event that could open doors. Known for its exclusivity and opulence, the event would draw in the who’s-who of powerful figures from the legal, business, and philanthropic worlds. Because of that, her father begged her to get them as many tickets as she could. She could only snag two, so her father and mother would be in attendance.

At first, she hated the idea of her parents observing her social mannerisms while she was at a work event. And, of course, Aston’s family would be in attendance too. But she couldn’t care less about that now. Instead, this would be her chance to make sure everyone knew that she was fed up with it all.

Stephanie's song: Toxic-Britney Spears

Stephanie

Stephanie felt like she was on cloud nine as she snuggled into the arm of her date to the Watkins & Grant gala. Being on the arm of Terry, dressed in the finest jewels and most beautiful gown, had Stephanie smiling from ear to ear. It was the perfect ending to a perfect week. Monday had marked Terry’s return to the office after a three-day conference hosted by a rival firm, and Stephanie couldn’t deny the thrill of having him back in the building, giving her some much needed eye candy. Tuesday had brought a delightful surprise: Terry asked her to be his date to the gala. Though the invitation sent her heart racing, she held her excitement back. She was more than ecstatic that he was finally giving her the attention she craved, but Stephanie wasn’t about to make it too easy for him. So, she set the terms: If he spent the night at her place, she'd consider his offer. So she spent Tuesday night with her ankles on Terry’s shoulders, getting the good fucking she deserved. On Wednesday afternoon, Terry had generously offered to buy her a dress for the event. Two hours and $6,000 later, Stephanie walked out of an upscale department store with a new evening gown, a gorgeous clutch, and the most beautiful heels. The price tags were enough to make anyone’s stomach drop, but Terry didn’t flinch. He brushed it off with a nonchalant smile, as though he'd just picked up a quick meal at a fast food place. The indulgence was effortless for him, and she couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction knowing how easily he could spoil her. Thursday, Terry took her out to lunch, letting her feast on the finest sashimi in the city. And Friday, she convinced Mr. Grant to give her the day off to indulge in some much needed beauty treatments. And the cherry on top? Camille, that constant thorn in her side, was nowhere to be seen. Stephanie welcomed the absence of Camille’s insufferable googly eyes aimed at Terry. If it were up to her, Camille would never return. But knowing that her disappearance was likely temporary, Stephanie savored the bit of absence she could get.

She looked up at Terry, who looked edible in his navy blue and black ensemble and wire rimmed glasses, as he led them through the entrance of the event. She bit her lip as she eyed him up and down, sighing as she felt a heat pool between her thighs. He just makes glasses look so sexy, she internally swooned. Stephanie couldn’t help but smile as she soaked in the envious glances and admiring stares that followed them wherever they went. Men and women alike flocked to Terry, eager to shower him with exaggerated compliments, their voices dripping with flattery as they shoved business cards into his hands. Powerful men cast heated, hungry glances her way, their gazes lingering just a little too long, while women studied her with a mix of envy and longing, silently wishing they could be her.

Each look, each gesture, fueled Stephanie's confidence, making her feel invincible. She reveled in the attention. The energy of the night felt electric, as though everything was aligning perfectly. She was certain that whatever came out of this evening would only serve to her benefit, solidifying her future. And it would all be thanks to the small vial tucked away in her clutch.

That aggravating witch had finally gotten back to her Thursday night, letting her know that the love potion was ready. The anticipation had been eating at Stephanie, and she could barely contain her excitement when she made the drive to the shabby building to pick it up. The small, heart-shaped bottle had her in awe. The deep red liquid inside swirled all on its own, moving like liquid fire, full of life and power.

The wait had been exasperating, but she had to admit, it was worth it. Though she would have preferred it to be ready earlier, the timing now felt almost symbolic. Tonight was the night. The gala had become the perfect stage for her plan. Terry, standing at her side, was practically shouting to the world that she was his. This was their moment. Their debut. The world would see them as a couple, and in that spotlight, Stephanie was ready to make sure that they truly were. Once she slipped him that potion, nothing would be the same. He was going to be so wrapped around her finger, he would practically worship her like she was his patron goddess. And she wasn’t going to waste any time making that her reality.

With a soft smile, she unwound her arm from Terry’s and leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek before lightly patting his chest, a perfect display of affection. “I’m going to grab a drink from the bar, baby. Do you want something?” she asked, her voice sweet and innocent. Inside, she silently urged him to say yes, her heart racing with the thrill of what was about to unfold. Please say yes. Please say yes.

He gave a brief nod, his attention mostly on the person’s hand he was shaking, but managed to give her a sideways glance. “Yeah, can you get me a bourbon on the rocks?” he asked. A smirk curled at the corner of Stephanie's lips. The request for dark liquor was the perfect opportunity, just what she had hoped for. She suppressed a chuckle as she replied with a bright smile, “No problem.” With a slow, deliberate sway of her hips, she glided across the polished floor toward the open bar. Everything is falling perfectly into place.

Aston's song: When Will I See You Smile Again?-BBD

Aston

The ride to the gala was silent. Painfully silent. The kind of silence that amplified every unspoken word. Aston didn’t expect the journey to be filled with light conversation or laughter, but the quiet felt suffocating. He sighed and stole another glance toward Camille, who was curled up on the opposite side of the car, her arms tightly folded across her chest, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. 

They hadn’t spoken at all since her birthday, since things had gone horribly wrong… The tension was palpable and he couldn’t shake his regret. The only reason they were even sharing this ride was because her parents communicated how much was riding on her cooperation, how much was at stake if she refused. Still, even with their pressure, she barely made any effort to go beyond the bare minimum.

Aston’s mind wandered back to that night he lost control. He cursed himself for how he had acted. He had never been like that before, and it sickened him to think back on it. But it ultimately wasn’t his fault. Something had triggered his outburst, whatever shit Terry’s goon had slipped him to heal his injuries. But that wasn’t an explanation he could share with Camille. He could never tell her the truth about his gambling. If she knew, it would ruin him. The engagement was already hanging by a thread, and the last thing he needed was for her to pull away completely. He still needed her to sign that renewed contract, to make everything official.

Aston had no idea what had gotten into his parents. He knew there was a debt involved on the DeWaterson side of the arrangement. But a debt worth everything they own and then some? It was nothing short of egregious. But what really left him reeling was the addition of a pregnancy clause. He doubted Camille would even let him near her for that to become a reality. He would give her the space she needed, though. He would be patient, wait for her to warm up to him again. If it took months, years, he didn’t care. In the meantime, he would satisfy his urges through his old lovers.

His thoughts were momentarily broken when, from the corner of his eye, he caught Camille shifting slightly in her seat. She subtly adjusted her gown, smoothing the rich fabric across her lap, and Aston found his breath catching. She looked stunning. The cobalt blue of her dress clung to her form, the deep hue accentuating the richness of her dark brown skin like it had been crafted just for her. A diamond tennis bracelet glistened on her wrist, its subtle elegance matching the sparkle of the earrings that swayed gently as she moved. Her hair was swept up in a sophisticated updo, exposing the delicate curve of her collarbone. Aston adjusted his growing erection, reminding himself that he couldn’t get lost in her, or any other woman, tonight. He had to remember that he came to this event for reasons beyond networking and elbow rubbing. 

For the past week, aside from bombarding Camille’s phone with messages, Aston had been consumed by a different obsession. Every spare moment was spent scouring the internet, searching for any shred of credible information about vampires. He had hoped for something real, something tangible, but most of his efforts led him to Twilight fanfictions or Dracula essays. Hours wasted on fantasy and folklore. He was about to give up until he stumbled upon a Facebook group that seemed promising.

The group owner was a curious character. His posts were chaotic, filled with disjointed rants and a sense of paranoia. But there was also something oddly compelling. The way he described his encounters with supernatural creatures sent a chill down Aston’s spine, reminding him of the terror he’d felt during his own encounters with Terry. That same paralyzing fear. That same helplessness.

Aston posed a question to the group: How can you kill a vampire? 

The replies started flooding in, most of them dismissive or cynical. Many claimed that killing a vampire was impossible. They could only be weakened, some said, but even that required an absurd amount of effort. It was too complicated. But then, among the sea of useless responses, the group owner chimed in. His reply stood out from the rest.

Aston’s pulse quickened as he read it. The suggestion was exactly what he needed to hear.

Aston’s fingers brushed against the inside of his suit jacket, checking once again that the small glass vial of sulfur was still tucked away in the inner pocket. According to the mysterious group owner, the sulfur could be used as a poison for vampires if administered in the right dose. For Camille’s sake and his own, he prayed that the perfect opportunity would present itself, that he’d be able to slip the sulfur into Terry’s drink. Killing the vampire was the only option he felt would secure their safety, to rid himself of the constant, creeping fear that Terry’s power and influence would one day consume them both.

As he walked inside with Camille, guiding her through the grand entrance of the event, his focus sharpened. She was tense beside him, but her unwillingness to engage or make eye contact was the least of his concerns. His eyes swept across the crowded ballroom, scanning the sea of well-dressed guests, the vibrant chatter and clinking glasses an overwhelming backdrop to his singular purpose. There, at a tabletop near the center of the room, he finally spotted him. Terry. His eyes locked onto the supernatural, and for a split second, time seemed to slow. Terry stood confidently, chatting with a small group, his predatory aura unmistakable even amidst the glittering social scene. But it was the moment when Stephanie handed him a drink that motivated Aston to make his move. Perfect.

Without another thought, he gently detached himself from Camille as he veered off in Terry’s direction.

Terry

Terry gave Stephanie a thin, tight-lipped smile as he took the glass of bourbon from her hand, his fingers brushing hers in a way that could almost be mistaken for intimate, but there was no warmth behind the gesture. His eyes never quite met hers as he accepted the drink. His mind was elsewhere, running through the same thought he’d been repeating to himself all week: She’s a part of your plan. He couldn’t afford to forget that, or else he’d risk losing control. 

Stephanie had been clinging to him all week, her needy presence aggravating him beyond reason. Her incessant chatter, all surface-level and lacking any real substance, got on his nerves. He tried to hold his composure, focusing instead on the endgame, getting back into her good graces long enough to get what he needed. From giving her a minor shopping spree to dicking her down on her apartment’s floor, each move he made this week involving her was calculated to make her feel valued for just a little while longer. She had no idea that she was a pawn in his larger scheme, and that, soon enough, he’d cast her aside. But for now, he needed her compliance.

His patience, however, was wearing thin. The constant attention, the shallow remarks, the way she seemed to think every word out of her mouth was an invitation for him to dote on her, it was all about to make him lose his mind. When she offered to get him a drink, he felt relieved. Finally, a moment away from her. A break from her desperate need to be the center of his world. 

Terry made his way through the crowd, maneuvering with ease as he greeted familiar faces and exchanged handshakes along the way. His destination was the center of the ballroom, where an empty table top awaited him. Once he reached it he scanned the room briefly as he pulled out his phone.

He quickly sent a message to Jabari. ‘Y’all good?’ he typed. Within moments, the reply came: ‘Ready. Just give us the word.’ Terry smirked. He typed back, his fingers quick on the screen, ‘Good. 30 minutes.’ Terry had positioned Jabari and his most trusted subordinates inside Aston’s apartment to create the perfect storm for an “accidental” fire. He had spent days ensuring every element of the setup was precise, no trace of malice, no hint of foul play. The fire had to appear natural, unpreventable, as if it were merely the result of an unfortunate mishap. 

As Terry slid his phone back into his pocket, his mind wandered to Camille. Even though she had moved out of Aston's apartment, he knew she probably still had a few things there, maybe even a few things of sentimental value. It pained him, the idea of her things being a casualty, but he quickly pushed the thought aside, convincing himself it didn’t matter. In the end, he would replace it all for her. New clothes, new furniture, anything she wanted. He’d make sure she had better than what she left behind.

It was twisted, he admitted to himself. But it was for the best. Camille needed to start fresh. The apartment, the remnants of her life there, it all represented a tie to the past, a past he was determined to sever. Once that apartment was gone, there would be no reason for her to ever go back to living with Aston.

He noticed Stephanie making her way back toward him, drink in hand. A low groan rumbled in his chest, but he masked it with a practiced smile. As she neared, he reached for the glass. 

“They recommended this. Tell me what you think,” Stephanie purred as she batted her lashes at him. Terry nodded absentmindedly, lifting the glass to his lips. But just before he could take a sip, his gaze locked onto Aston, who was making his way through the crowd with a determined look on his face, focused on him. Terry smirked as he set the glass down, his hand resting casually on the table as he turned his full attention to Aston’s approach.

Stephanie’s voice faltered. “I-Is there something wrong?” she asked, her eyes darting between Terry and the glass.

Terry didn’t spare her a glance. “Nah,” he said nonchalantly. “But can you do me a favor?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, the words already tumbling out. “Can you grab me some hors d’oeuvres?”

He had no idea what Aston wanted, but Terry wasn’t one to turn down a little entertainment. Whatever the man had to say, Terry would listen, just for the amusement of it.

Terry caught a glimpse of Stephanie from the corner of his eye, watching as her smile faded before she turned and walked off. But he didn’t bother to pay it any mind. His attention quickly shifted elsewhere, focusing on the approaching figure of McCoy.

He tilted his head slightly, studying McCoy as the man closed the distance between them. Aston had been intentionally avoiding him all week. Whenever their paths crossed in the hallway, McCoy had been quick to turn in the opposite direction, his eyes avoiding Terry’s altogether. During team meetings, McCoy kept his gaze trained on the table, never meeting Terry’s eyes, as if silently pleading to be left alone. And then there were the days when McCoy had locked himself away in his office, missing his usual rounds through the building. At first, Terry had enjoyed the absence of McCoy’s presence. He hated seeing the motherfucker’s face.

But then, there was Camille. The more she called out sick, the more Terry began to grow suspicious. Was she really unwell, or had McCoy done something to her? Terry had sent her a quick text to check in, and she had assured him that she was indeed sick, her response laced with just enough sincerity to put his mind at ease. But still, something felt off.

Even now, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Aston was the type of person that made sure he looked socially presentable at this type of event. And that included having a woman on his arm. And yet, there was no sign of Camille. The absence of her was unsettling, and Terry’s suspicion only deepened.

As McCoy reached him, he broke his chain of thought. “Terry, it’s good to see you!” McCoy’s voice rang out, greeting him as if they were old friends. Terry instinctively raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing McCoy’s every movement. Instead of pressing for answers right away, Terry chose to play along, letting the conversation unfold at McCoy’s pace. Whatever McCoy’s angle was, Terry was certain he'd figure it out. 

“You know, we should talk,” Aston said, still acting as if they were close friends. Terry just narrowed his gaze. “Where’s Camille?” he asked, his words coming out through clenched teeth, though his smile remained perfect. Aston quickly scanned the room, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll turn up. She’s probably talking to her parents… or mine,” he added with a nonchalant shrug, as though it were no big deal.

Terry’s heart dropped into his stomach. Her parents are here? He had to meet them. His old research told him that her father was an asshole too absorbed in bootlicking. Her mother, on the other hand, was a pushover, easily influenced, easily won over. The more people in her life I get on my side, the better, he thought.

Aston leaned in closer, his breath warm against Terry’s ear. “I’ve got some new details concerning that contract,” Aston whispered, his voice low as he gave him a knowing look.

Terry’s brow furrowed in confusion. What was he playing at? Aston glanced down at Terry’s glass, his eyes lighting up. “Before we get into that, though, I think I’m gonna have what you’re having,” he said, motioning toward Terry’s drink with a casual nod. “I’ll be right back.” With that, Aston patted Terry’s shoulder before turning and making his way toward the bar.

Terry squinted after him, watching as Aston weaved in and out with ease. There was something off about that whole interaction. Aston had nearly crumbled in front of him no less than a week ago. The man practically pissed himself when Terry ripped another man apart in front of him. Ever since, Aston had been avoiding him like the plague, keeping his distance, hiding in his office, trying to stay under Terry’s radar. But now? Now, Aston was acting like none of that had ever happened.

I’ll play along, Terry thought. It didn’t matter what Aston’s angle was; Terry was ready to match him, move for move. Whatever the man was up to, Terry was more than ready to let him think he had the upper hand. 

Terry lifted his glass once more, the amber liquid catching the light as he brought it to his lips. But this time, his attention was quickly pulled elsewhere, by someone far more captivating. It had been a week since he’d last seen Camille, and the sight of her now stopped him dead in his tracks.

Her hair was styled up, an elegant twist that framed her face perfectly. The makeup she wore was subtle yet flawless, highlighting her natural beauty. And that dress…the deep blue fabric clung to her every curve, hugging her body in all the right places. It was the kind of dress that made heads turn, the kind that made a tent form in his trousers.

His eyes followed her every move. She navigated the crowd with grace, her presence drawing the eyes of everyone around her, but there was something different about how she interacted with them. People approached her, offering polite greetings, extending their hands for introductions. But Camille simply nodded, her responses cordial but distant as she gently but firmly declined further conversation. She moved through the crowd like she was in a world of her own, detached, almost untouchable.

Terry blinked, surprised by her behavior. Camille didn’t strike him as the type to brush people off in a setting like this. She was always charming, always engaging, always making sure she played the part of the graceful socialite. So why is she brushing everyone off? He felt a rush of curiosity and concern.

Terry pushed his way through the crowd, the lively atmosphere fading into the background as his focus zeroed in on Camille. Once he reached her, he gently grabbed her arm, drawing her attention. For a moment, she looked like she was about to brush him off like everyone else. But as soon as her eyes met his, her dismissiveness melted away, replaced by a warmth that made his chest tighten. A soft, breathy giggle escaped her lips, and before he could react, she eagerly pulled him into a hug.

This wasn’t the stiff, churchy side-hug he got from her on several occasions in the office. No, this was something far more intimate. All of her body pressed against his, all of her softness and femininity wrapping around him, dizzying him. Terry instinctively pulled her deeper into his embrace, savoring the feel of her against him. He breathed her in, the scent of jasmine and vanilla enveloping him, groaning as his hardened cock twitched. They swayed gently in each other's arms, the moment stretching out longer than it should have. But Terry didn’t care. He wanted to soak in every second of it. But, as with all good things, the moment came to an end. Camille slowly pulled away, and though Terry silently protested, he let her go too.

“So, you finally feeling better?” Terry asked, his eyes tracing her face and figure, not even bothering to hide his appreciation. Camille smiled softly, her lips hinting at something more.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Terry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That’s a strange response, he thought. He parted his lips to press further, but Camille was quicker, her gaze softening as she took a small step back.

“You look so handsome,” she said, her sweet smile deepening. His dick twitched again. I would look even better on top of you, he thought.

“I’d love to stay and chat,” she continued, her tone turning a little more apologetic, “but I’ve already pissed off your girlfriend once. I don’t want to cause any more problems…”

Terry’s mind stuttered, trying to process what she just said. What the hell is she talking about? The confusion was written all over his face as he blurted out, “Wait, what?”

Camille opened her mouth, but before she could say another word, she was cut off by a squealing voice. “Terry! Terry! There you are!” The sound of Stephanie’s shouting cut through the air, and Terry’s stomach twisted in annoyance.

He turned instinctively toward the voice, his frustration mounting, only to see Stephanie barreling toward him. He simply rolled his eyes and shook his head before he turned back to Camille, but the space where she had been standing was now empty. It was as if she had vanished into thin air. Fuck, Terry thought, clenching his jaw. What the hell is going on tonight?

Stephanie wrapped her arm around his, holding a plate of finger foods up to his face with a bright, expectant smile. Terry barely glanced at it before brushing it aside with a scowl. He couldn’t do this right now. He pulled his arm free, walking away from Stephanie without a second glance, heading straight back toward the table where his drink sat, and where Aston was already waiting.

Stephanie huffed behind him, her annoyance evident, but Terry couldn’t give a fuck. Everyone’s acting weird tonight, he thought, his jaw tightening with each step. And I fucking want to know why. He knew Aston’s slimy ass was probably his best bet, so he slipped back on his professional mask to jump into whatever game he was playing.

“Terry, I leave you for one second, and you just disappear,” Aston chuckled. Terry shot him a tight smile, masking any distrust he felt.

“What can I say? I couldn’t possibly miss out on saying ‘hi’ to Camille,” Terry replied. Aston’s playful demeanor flickered for the briefest moment. But Terry saw it. Aston only chuckled again as Terry reached for his drink.

“Cheers,” Aston said with a grin, raising his glass and clinking it against Terry’s with a quick motion. Aston took a quick sip, his eyes looking at him expectantly. Terry narrowed his eyes, studying him carefully, but he raised his glass to his lips anyway. But, before he could even taste the drink, a burning stench filled his nose. His supernatural senses flared with alarm. He didn’t need to pause to identify it. Sulfur. It was a scent most of his kind were trained to recognize immediately. A substance whose potency was capable of weakening creatures like him. It couldn’t kill him, but it would a bitch to deal with if he ingested it. Agonizing pain that would last for days, leaving him vulnerable.

Terry clenched his teeth, forcing himself to swallow the instinctual hiss that rose in his throat. His eyes threatened to shift, a familiar hunger creeping up. The urge to let his true nature surface was almost unbearable, but something else bloomed within him, a dark sense of amusement that almost made him laugh. The little bitch is trying to poison me, he thought. The realization was almost too rich. Aston’s bitch ass thought he could slip something like that past him. The audacity was laughable.

For a split second, Terry considered acting on impulse, gruesomely killing Aston right there. The idea was tempting. Terry could feel the predator in him stir, aching to lash out. But then, a thought stopped him cold: That wouldn’t be fun. It would give him momentary satisfaction, sure, but it would also expose him. No, Terry realized, I can do something far more entertaining. 

A devious smirk spread across his face as he set down his glass on the table with a soft clink. Panic flickered in Aston’s eyes, a fleeting shift of unease. But Terry remained composed, hoping it would calm him down. 

“Speaking of Camille,” Terry said, his voice casual, eyes never leaving Aston’s, “I want to introduce myself to her parents. Can you point them out?” He spoke, watching as Aston’s eyes flicked to the glass in his hand. Aston shrugged nonchalantly, though his lips twitched slightly. “I mean, they could be anywhere…” He trailed off. Terry’s eyes bore into Aston, leaving no room for argument. Aston exhaled sharply and set his drink down with a small thud, finally turning his attention to scan the room. Terry, however, moved with purpose as his fingers swapped the glasses, eager to see how this would unfold.

Camille

“Young lady,” Mr. McCoy growled through clenched teeth. “This behavior is beyond unacceptable.” Camille just stared at him, her defiant gaze unwavering.

For the past ten minutes, she and her parents had trailed behind Aston’s parents like obedient shadows, compliant as they were paraded around the room. The sight of her father, practically kissing the ground Mr. McCoy walked on, made her stomach twist. He clung to his every word, nodding eagerly as if he were some sort of untouchable god. It was sickening. At every corner, the oil tycoon introduced them to various business partners or old friends. People who neither Camille nor her parents had the slightest real interest in. And yet, her parents threw themselves into practiced introductions with exaggerated warmth, a performance they had long since perfected.

Normally, Camille would have gone along with it, but tonight, she refused. Instead of the rehearsed enthusiasm her parents displayed, Camille gave nothing more than curt nods and stiff, half-hearted handshakes, deliberately distancing herself from the spectacle. Her parents and Mr. and Mrs. McCoy chuckled awkwardly at her behavior. They had tolerated her rudeness up to a point, but Mr. McCoy, clearly losing his patience, had reached his limit.

“Yeah, arranged marriages seem to have that effect,” Camille shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her mother gasped, sharp and involuntary, while Aston’s mother’s jaw dropped so dramatically that Camille half-expected it to hit the floor.

Mr. McCoy, visibly taken aback, stammered for a moment, his face turning a shade of red that matched his fury. He took a moment, clenched his jaw, then spun on his heel, disbelief etched deeply in his features. His eyes locked onto Colin DeWaterson, and the anger in them was unmistakable.

“Get her under control. Now,” Mr. McCoy commanded. Colin, sensing the pressure, tried to defuse the situation with a weak, nervous smile. He turned his attention to his daughter, his face tightening with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration.

“Camille,” he began, his voice strained, “You’re not doing anyone any favors acting like this.” His tone shifted, becoming more forceful, more authoritative. “Now, if this continues, the McCoys may feel inclined to return to the contract–” 

Camille let out a dismissive scoff. She was done, completely over this suffocating evening. Her frustration was boiling over, and she couldn’t hold back any longer. “Go to hell!” she snapped, her voice loud enough to pierce through the murmur of the surrounding guests, drawing their attention.

Without a second thought, she pivoted on her heels and stormed away. She didn’t need to see their reactions, didn’t want to. All she wanted now was escape. She wasn’t headed anywhere in particular, her legs simply carried her away. The farther she got, the lighter her breath became, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more distance. She needed space to breathe.

And then, her eyes caught a promising sliver of reprieve. The doors to a balcony, barely cracked open, offering a hint of cool, fresh air on the other side. Without a second thought, she moved toward them, the promise of solitude and a few moments of peace waiting just beyond that door.

Camille stepped onto the outdoor terrace and exhaled shakily. The cool evening air kissed her skin. She leaned on the railing as she tried to steady herself, to calm her frustration. Her father’s attempt to scold her still rang in her ears. She blinked rapidly, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

She was grateful that the area was practically empty, save for one event staff member who gave her distance. All she could focus on was the overwhelming weight of it all. The cruel realization that this was her reality. Yet, she had no choice. Another heavy sigh escaped her lips. Her gaze shifted upward, settling on the moon hung in the sky.

“Camille?” A voice whispered her name. Deep, familiar, and impossibly close. It immediately made her nipples harden and heat pulse in her core. She gasped as she turned to the side, finding Terry standing right next to her. His intense, concerned gaze was locked on hers. For a split second, she was frozen, caught in the magnetic pull of his presence. The way he was looking at her, so close, made her aware of how little space there was between them. Instinctively, she took a small step back, trying to put some distance between them. But Terry didn’t look away; his eyes stayed on her, unwavering and full of something that made her pulse quicken.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said softly, his voice rich and soothing. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the movement momentarily flooding her mind with the dirtiest thoughts. “I just wanted to check on you… you don’t seem like yourself.” The words wrapped around her, an overwhelming ache swelled within her. 

Camille fought the emotions threatening to spill over. She wanted, no, needed, to tell him everything. To pour out her feelings, to tell him how suffocating her life was, how trapped she felt, how disillusioned she was with Aston. She wanted to confess how every glance, every stolen moment with Terry made her heartache in a way she couldn’t explain. But instead, she plastered on the most convincing fake smile she could muster, and turned her face away from him.

“I’m fine, Terry,” she said, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to sound light. “I really appreciate your concern, but like I said, you’re gonna get me in trouble with your girlfriend.” She let out a soft laugh as she looked back at him, hoping it would lighten the mood. But Terry didn’t laugh with her. His expression remained unreadable, too serious for the teasing remark to land. His gaze only made Camille feel exposed.

“I don’t know where you’re getting this from, but I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said, his voice steady and calm.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What? That’s not what I heard–”

“What you heard was a lie,” he interrupted, his words sharp as he closed the space between them. Camille’s breath caught in her throat. The gap between them was now nearly nonexistent, and with it, the world around them seemed to fade away. All Camille could focus on was him.

“In fact, I don’t have a girlfriend because I’m too interested in the woman in front of me.” He said, placing a hand on her waist. Her mouth went dry. She hadn’t expected that. At all. Her pulse hammered in her ears, the sound deafening, as Terry’s presence overwhelmed her senses. Her eyes blinked rapidly as she tried to process what he said. “T-Terry, I had no idea…”

“And that’s my fault,” Terry began, his voice heavy with sincerity. “I should’ve let you know my intentions a long time ago,” he continued. “But I didn’t want you to think I wanted to mess up your life… or try to sabotage what you’ve got going on here. But I have to be honest, Camille… I want you. In every way you’ll let me have you.”

Everything around her seemed to blur. Her logic demanded she step back, shut it all down, walk away. But in that moment, her resolve shattered. Without thinking, without hesitating, she pressed her lips to his with a sudden urgency that took them both by surprise. The kiss was deep and hungry, as if she were pouring everything—every bit of longing, frustration, desire, and confusion—into that one connection. Terry wasted no time kissing her back. He met her intensity, responding with equal fervor, as if he, too, had been waiting for this moment. He wrapped his arms around her waist, deepening the kiss, dominating the interaction. His lips moved over hers expertly, making her whimper as she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was like they were transported back to that night at Crimson. Passionate, explosive, soul-touching. He was pulling her into a world that she had no desire to leave, happily melting into his arms.

His thick lips sucked her lower lip into his mouth, demanding her to submit to him and open her mouth, which she happily obliged. Immediately, his tongue dived into her mouth, making her moan into his. One hand slid down to cup her ass while the other snaked around the back of her neck, locking her in place. Her eyes became half-lidded as she let herself fall into complete bliss as she let him claim her lips. 

“My goodness!” A shriek rang out from behind them. Camille’s heart skipped a beat as the voice jolted her back to reality. She instinctively pulled away from Terry, her breath coming out in short, uneven gasps, her lips swollen, and her head spinning. Her head snapped toward the source of the outburst, landing on her mother, storming toward them with a furious expression. “Unhand her. Now,” her mother seethed, her voice low but full of wrath directed at Terry. "Mom...please," Camille groaned. Terry’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t argue. He slowly unfurled his hands from around her, his fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary before he released her completely. Without another word, her mother grabbed Camille’s arm, her fingers digging into her skin. “You’re out here acting like you have no sense while Aston’s in there losing his damn mind,” her mother hissed. Camille’s brow furrowed in confusion. Losing his mind? What is she talking about?

Stephanie

Stephanie stumbled backward as she locked eyes with Aston. His gaze was wild, manic, fixated on her and following her every move with an intensity that made her skin crawl. His words spilled from his mouth erratically. 

She was just looking for attention, something to dull the sting of how Terry had brushed her off. Her curiosity burned inside her like a wildfire as she watched Aston and Terry earlier. The two men had always loathed each other. They wouldn’t have engaged in conversation unless it was super important…or it was something about Camille. And she was desperate to know. Once Terry abandoned Aston to go upstairs, she seized her opportunity, trembling with anticipation as she approached Aston.

For the first fifteen minutes, Aston was normal. His words were vague when she prodded him about the conversation with Terry, but he seemed eager enough to shower her with compliments and throw her lustful stares. She basked in the flattery for as long as she could. But suddenly, his demeanor shifted. The compliments grew more intense, his gaze more fixed. As if obsession gripped him out of nowhere. An obsession with her. Aston was acting as though she was the very air he needed to breathe, as though her existence was the singular focus of his mind.

“Stephanie, baby,” he gasped, the sound jagged and frantic, devoid of sanity. His face, trying to decide whether to break into laughter or to drop tears. Stephanie glanced around the room, her gaze darting nervously from one face to the next. Several of her coworkers seemed to be watching them with varying degrees of curiosity. A flicker of relief washed over her. Good, she thought. I have an audience... someone will help me.

He took a stumbling step toward her, his movements uncoordinated and sloppy. “B-Baby, please!” His voice cracked, the words hanging in the air like an unwelcome plea. “Why are you looking at me like that? I-I need you. I love you!” The plea grew louder, more frantic. His voice had risen now and she felt a chill run through her. How could this night have gone so wrong? 

One moment, Stephanie was being paraded around by Terry, being the envy of the night. But now, everything had shifted. The guy she had rejected nearly two years ago was standing before her, snapping without warning. She continued to take slow, measured steps back, every instinct telling her to distance herself. She refused to respond to him. But he just kept talking. Kept pleading. 

“I know I’m engaged and everything,” he said, his voice trembling now, but rising in pitch, “but I can get rid of Camille! Make her disappear!” His eyes widened and tears began streaming down his face. “W-Would you like that?” Stephanie’s stomach twisted. She kept retreating, but it felt like no space was enough, no distance wide enough to escape.

“And, and, and I know I’m not Terry,” he stammered, as if he could make her understand his tortured logic. “I know that’s where your heart really is. But I can love you better than he ever could!” His laugh was sharp, a manic cackle. But Stephanie didn’t laugh. She didn’t do anything but stare at him with terror. His laughter died in an instant, his expression darkening. “Baby, why aren’t you saying anything…” he whispered, his voice barely audible now. He stopped moving for a moment, standing there like a statue, his gaze fixed on her, waiting for a response that would never come. Stephanie’s gaze flitted around the room, looking for any way out. The crowd was thickening, a group of onlookers silently forming a circle around a nightmare unfolding. 

“You fucking heard me,” Aston bit. His eye began to twitch as he resumed stalking her. “I said why aren’t you answering me, bitch!” Stephanie jumped, her body trembling slightly.

“Aston, bud,” Glover, one of their older male colleagues said, approaching Aston cautiously. “Just calm down man. This looks really ba–”

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” Aston let out a guttural scream and, without warning, snatched the nearest flower arrangement from a table, glass and greenery scattering in all directions as he hurled it violently at Glover’s feet. Stephanie and the others nearby screamed before they began to scramble in every direction, desperate to escape Aston’s madness. But Aston moved faster than she could. At an unnatural speed, his body lunged forward, cutting off her only path to safety. Her heart slammed into her chest as he blocked her in, towering over her. His face was inches from hers now, his wild eyes burning with fury. His lips pulled back revealing bared teeth. The predatory intensity in his gaze made her lip tremble. She could do nothing but stare into his face.

“I’ve been the perfect man for you since the day we met,” he gritted. “I could’ve given you everything if you had been fucking patient! But no. You decided that being Mr. Grant’s slut was the better deal…” he said, the last sentence barely above a whisper.

“Fuck you,” she cried, attempting to push him away. But he didn’t budge, as if he was full of demonic strength. He gave her a psychotic grin. “Fuck me, huh?” He whispered, backing away from her slowly, his smile never fading. He turned to the people cowering in different positions around him. Some behind table tops, some behind decorations. Some even behind other people. 

“All of you act like I’m a fucking nobody! Well, go fuck yourselves! I’m the heir to a goddamn oil empire! I deserve some fucking respect!” He screamed. Stephanie’s heart beat pounded in her ears as she slowly began to move from her spot. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips as she saw security approach the area. But the sound of more glass breaking brought her attention back to Aston. He had flipped a floor length flower arrangement,glass shattering as it hit the floor. 

“Instead, you all give your praise and admiration to undeserving fucks like Terry Richmond. He’s a fraud! A fucking freak of nature! He’d tear us all apart if he could! You know why?! Because he’s a bloodsucking, murderous, psychotic vampire!” Stephanie stiffened. How did he know that about Terry? How long has he known that about Terry? Stephanie momentarily slipped into her own head as she thought about what he just said. She thought she was the only one that knew about Terry’s nature.

Stephanie watched him with curiosity as the security team slowly closed in around him. His eyes flashed with defiance as he sized them up. Without warning, one of the security guards lunged, but Aston sidestepped the attack. He rushed towards a second guard, but three of them pounced on him simultaneously, bringing him to the ground. Their collective weight managed to limit his frantic movements. Still, his mouth kept going, a cascade of frantic screams and curses. His body thrashed relentlessly. Slowly, the chaos began to subside as he seemed to wear himself out, his screams growing more hoarse and spaced out. The guards began to drag him away. But something caught Aston’s attention, reigniting his fury. Stephanie followed his line of sight.

There, standing high above them on the second floor, was Terry. His posture was unbothered, leaning casually against the marble as though the chaos below him was nothing more than entertainment. Like he was a king quietly observing a court jester. His face showed indifference. But his eyes flickered with sinister amusement.

Next to him, an older Black woman held an appalled Camille close.

“Camille!” Aston began to shout. “I know I haven’t been who you deserve. I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me! But, please listen to me! Don’t trust Terry! He’s not what you think! He’s not what any of you think! He’s a fucking vampire! Nothing but pure fucking evil!”

His shouts grew fainter as the security team escorted him out of the building. Around her, a buzz of murmurs grew louder, the crowd trying to make sense of the madness they had just witnessed. A few approached her, their expressions filled with genuine worry. “Are you okay?” one woman asked hesitantly. “Do you need any medical attention?”

But Stephanie didn’t respond. Her thoughts, however, were anything but quiet. They kept spiraling back to Aston’s words, those chilling accusations. A bloodsucking, murderous, psychotic vampire. 

She turned her gaze back to the second-floor balcony, her eyes locking onto Terry.

There he was, his eyes trained on Camille beside him. The soft flicker of affection in his gaze was undeniable. The sight burned into Stephanie’s mind, making her blood boil. Something had gone horribly wrong tonight. That much was certain. But she needed answers. And she would get them no matter what.

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

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[redwinelew]

TO A VERY GOOD LAWYER

pairing matt murdock x female afab reader (no part 2 requests pls)

summary you and matt spend the night together after he represented you in your case

warnings set during daredevil born again. 18+. smut. fingering. praises. yearning. mention of drugs & (inaccurate portrayal of) insomnia. english is not my first language. not proofread.

author's note sorry to my followers who are mostly here for f1 content but i'm trying to get back into writing fics so i think i will turn this into a multifandom blog from now on ✌🏽

gif credit | masterlist

"and the jury finds the defendant.... not guilty."

in a few short days that you've known matt murdock, you find that he is a determined man. once he has set his mind onto something, it'd be very hard to convince him to do otherwise. he proved this by telling kirsten mcduffie that he wanted to represent you in your court case after you have been falsely accused of drug trafficking. though you once did in the past, not only dealing but taking as well, you have left that world, went to rehab and is now sober. you were careful enough not to leave any trails that could be lead back to you. but this time, you were framed. foolish of you to think that those people you were involved with would let you go that easily. and you were foolish enough to think that they'd believe you when you say that you would keep everything from the authorities.

you were going to accept the fact that you might never step foot outside of those tight four walls you were going to call home soon, to never feel the heat of the sun on your skin again, when you the door clicked. matt showed up, introducing himself and you held your breath. you only spoke four words, "i can't afford you". eyeing his blue suit and briefcase, they indicated that his service won't be cheap. but he quickly dismissed your concern, already sitting in front of you. and the next words that came out of his mouth were a promise that will get you out of this mess.

and now you are a free woman, all thanks to him.

"woo!" you cheer as the champagne bottle pops. matt smiles as you pour it into both your glasses. he was kind enough to let you go through his cabinet. to even invite you to his apartment and cook for you after the case is done.

"should we toast? i think we should toast!" you answer your own question, which makes him chuckle again. it feels like a reward to get to see this real version of you, an 180 contrast to the terrified one before this.

"to your freedom." he says, raising his glass.

"and to a very good lawyer."

your glasses clink and you both sip your drink. you take this opportunity to cast a glance at his apartment. he knows how to take good care of his home despite his disability. not a speck of dust can be seen. his kitchen was quickly sorted out after he cooked dinner for the two of you earlier. his movement were smooth though he was still careful around the stove and knives. you'd be lying if you say you were not impressed. some men even with all their five senses working, are not as efficient as he is.

"how are you feeling?" he asks, moving away from his island to the couch.

you sit beside him, one leg tucks under the other while leaving a respectful distance between the two of you. your champagne glass has been put aside on his coffee table. you tilt your head up, staring into one specific spot on his ceiling, thinking. not long after that, a smile grows on your face as you look back at matt, his unfocused eyes behind those red-tinted glasses waiting patiently for your answer.

"i feel great. relieved mostly. and i feel free. because i'm no longer looking at jailtime. and it's all still very bizarre to me that we won. all thanks to you, of course."

no longer do you have to look over your shoulder, waiting for trouble to come. justice has been served and you are free from your past. free to start a new life in the busiest city in the world.

"i just don't know what to do now. i mean i know i should try and get my apartment back. find a new job but it all seems very overwhelming. like i don't know where to start. i don't even know if i can do this. i know it won't be easy. people are not very kind to former addicts, you know? even when we're trying our best to be sober." you add, choosing to be honest about what has been worrying you since you were freed.

"well, i can't say i understand how you feel or what you're going through but take it slow. you can do this. take your time. it won't be easy but i've been doing this for a long time. i've seen my former clients get back to the top after their cases. i've seen them in a place better than they ever were. you can do it too. i know you can. i believe in you."

then matt reaches out to place his hand on top of yours on the couch, interlocking your fingers together

"make me proud, okay?"

your heart flutters in your chest. his hand decorated in blue-green veins feels big and warm, covering your small one completely as he gently squeezes it.

the way he's talking to you, with that deep timber of his voice you have begun to like a little too much, it shouldn't feel this intimate. the room suddenly feels too small, too hot and for once you're grateful that he's blind or else he would see how easily he has made you flustered. your mind starts to race with forbidden thoughts about him that you shouldn't even have dared to think about.

unbeknownst to you, matt is able to hear the change in your demeanor. your pounding heart, the sharp intake of your breath, how your body freezes at his words and only then he realizes what he's doing. quickly matt removes his hand from yours.

"oh, i'm— sorry." he mutters an apology before clearing his throat.

you shake your head, forcing a smile knowing he cannot see it. "it's fine."

matt fixes himself, manspreading on his couch. his rubs his thigh awkwardly, before taking the opportunity of this awkward silence to read you. you've changed your position, now leaning forward. you are fidgeting with your fingers in an attempt to calm your racing heart. and then he feels it, smells it. the way you're pressing your thighs together and that sweet scent of your arousal.

matt inhales shakily, nails digging into his own skin.

fuck.

"you want more champagne?" he offers, because he himself needs it right now.

you snap out of your daze. the silence lingers as you process his offer. this might be a bad idea. you never liked being drunk but god, you'd take anything to get your mind out of the gutter right now.

your voice trembles as you confirm. "yes. thank you."

he takes your glass without another word, navigating back to his counter. the champagne pours smoothly into your glass. he walks back to you and you murmur a thank you as you take your glass back.

matt reverts back to the kitchen. he can't let himself be too close to you right now. not after knowing what he knows. so instead he pours the last bits of champagne into his own glass. exhaling deeply, matt leans back against the island, before sipping his drink.

however hard he tries, he just can't stop thinking about your reaction. the fact that you're sitting there, pressing your legs together in an attempt to relieve yourself, wanting him, and he can't do anything about it because he respects you too much and the consequences of his colleagues finding out about this would be too severe.

"you uh.... do you have anywhere to stay tonight?" matt breaks the silence, finally popping the question. he never thought he'd want you out of his face as soon as possible but this is for the best of you both.

you look up, and the answer is easy.

"no. i don't." you shake your head as you reply. your family cut ties with you after you got into drugs and you don't have any ride-or-die friends that are willing to let you crash on their couch for a few days.

pause again. an idea pops in his head. a terrible one and matt clenches his jaw. before he could even stop himself, his body already betrays him, facing you from the kitchen. "well, you're welcome to stay however long you want."

your eyes widen at his offer. you blink, thinking that you've heard him wrong.

"w-what? i.... what about you? where will you sleep?"

he smiles softly. "i'll take the couch. it's fine, really. after what you've been through, i figure you'll need the rest anyway. take the bed."

you are left dumbfounded. you stare down at his couch you're currently sitting on. matt is tall, and this couch doesn't look that much comfortable for him to sleep in. you also think about the fact that you'll be sleeping on his sheets, surrounded by his scent everywhere and immediately you know that this is a terrible idea.

"n-no, i can't.... you've been too kind to me, mr murdock. i can't possibly kick you out of your own bed."

matt can't help the chuckle from leaving his lips. you're being too polite, as if you're not currently wet for him.

matt knows this is literally the opposite of what he needs right now. he can already imagine the sleepless nights. thinking about you tuck away safely under his duvet, wearing his shirt, his scent on you, with you lusting after him, it'd be too much for him too handle. but what's worse is leaving you to sleep in the streets.

"no. you're a guest. a woman. and everybody loves to brag about how much of a gentleman i am. i need to live up to my reputation."

the sound of his laugh sends tingles down your spine and straight to your core. you swallow. if only he knew how much you want him right now. his laugh sets your body on fire as a familiar warmth pools between your legs. you shift awkwardly on the couch, trying to will it away.

"you don’t have to pretend to be a gentleman for me, mr. murdock."

pause.

his jaw clenches at your words. hands gripping the glass in his hand a little too hard. matt wonders if it just slips, like you didn't even think about your words or if you're well aware of the implications.

it's a mixed of both.

you didn't think before you speak, but you're also glad. because seeing the way his jaw tightens at your words, the muscles under that white shirt tensing, and how the glass in his hand might just shatter soon confirmed your theory. he wants you too. and matt can't be that blind to not notice your attraction toward him. but the fact that he's restraining himself from doing anything about it frustrates you. the case is done. he is no longer your lawyer. nothing is tying you two together, if that's what he's so worried about.

you want to break him.

"it's fine, really. take the bed." he chuckles and repeats himself again, trying to act casual. "and stop calling me "mr murdock". it's matt."

"matt." you test it in a whisper-y tone, letting his name roll off your tongue. it sounds good. but you can't help yourself from imagining it being said in a more breathless, desperate tone.

matt swallows, hearing how your heart is pounding again and it's almost too hard to ignore.

"you need to get some sleep. it's late." he says, hoping that the conversation would end now.

"i.... i can't sleep." you choose to confess.

"why? insomnia?" matt guesses as he washes his empty glass.

you finish your drink before nodding and walking over, bringing your own to him.

"y-yeah.... something like that."

matt can feel your presence, can barely stand how close you are to him but he doesn't move, doesn't turn to look at you. but you can see how his chest rises and falls quicker than usual, having you just inches away from him again.

his fingers brush against yours as the glass exchanges hand but your answer distracts him from reacting to your touch.

"wait, seriously?" his eyebrows meet in a knot as matt turns, fully facing you now.

you can't tear your eyes away from him, as he stands so close to you. the height difference feels overwhelming. he's so much bigger than you, but it only makes you want him more.

"y-yeah, seriously. i.... i have trouble sleeping. it's like i can't turn off my brain."

"i.... i have no idea."

you chuckle nervously. "well, it's not relevant to the case so...."

"for how long?" matt inquires, the frown on his face grows deeper. the way you're casually admitting to this makes him feel uneasy. he can't even imagine how you still manage to function with the lack of rest. not to mention, the constant fear of the people from your past catching up to you and your court case. it must have been hell.

the concern in his voice makes your heart flutter. you have no idea how long it has been since anyone truly gives a shit about you. and you know you shouldn't read into his question too much but this feeling is nice. to know that at least someone cares.

"weeks. months, even. i've tried everything. counting sheep, meditation, even sleeping pills. nothing works. i just... i just can't sleep. i thought it was a withdrawal symptom but i've been sober for a while now and it just keeps getting worse."

matt's heart breaks hearing your answer. how your voice is laced with desperation for just a few minutes of rest. how you sound like you're already giving up at finding a cure for your insomnia.

"i'm sorry." his warm hand wraps around your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze and your breath hitches in your throat. a simple skin to skin contact but it sets your entire body in flames. the way his hand covers your arm, so much bigger than yours, the warmth radiating from it. it feels so good. it's electrifying.

and matt, he didn't even realize he was doing it. it's like a reflex to him, this need to offer you some sort of comfort.

"can't imagine what it must have felt like for you."

your lips tremble, trying not to tear up in front of him. not here, not now, not like this.

"it... it can get really lonely."

"well, i might know a thing or two about it."

you pause. "being lonely... you understand it?"

matt smiles. one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "more than you know."

you falter, his reply catching you off guard. it's odd to think that this man in front of you, this confident, charming, attractive man, feels lonely. but the hint of sadness in his voice makes your heart ache. you don't know what's happened to him but the desire to comfort him and the desire to have him are now equally strong.

so many things happening right now that you never even thought would happen. well, yes of course you found matt attractive from the moment you laid eyes on him but with your case going on, you didn't have time to care. your life is more important that how devilishly hot your lawyer is.

but now that you're free, that you're finally alone with him, nothing is stopping you from taking in his handsome features. even in the dim lighting, you can see the way his stubble emphasizes the sharp edges of his jaw.

you inhale deeply, before taking a brave step toward him.

matt breathes your name. his hand never left your arm but his fingers tighten slightly on your skin. a silent warning. because he knows all too well what you're trying to do.

a shiver goes down your spine when you hear him say your name in that breathy tone. it sounds better than what you've imagined and you find yourself wanting to hear it more. and the feeling of his hand on your arm, the way his fingers grip you, it's enough to drive you crazy. the warning in his voice is clear as day, but you push through. you want him too much to care. you know he wants you too. you both needed this, only he's too stubborn to admit it.

you choose to ignore his warning, closing the distance between the both of you.

matt rasps your name again, only firmer. his voice is strained, his warning is clear. his grip on your arm tightens to the point where it almost stops you in your tracks but you push through, especially when he makes no effort to move away from you.

you're right in front of him now, your body flushed against his as his back pressed against the counter. his hand on your arm falls as you slowly unbutton his shirt from the bottom. already you could feel the heat of his body, how goosebumps appear on his smooth skin shivers as you leave featherlight touches across his abs.

"please..." you whisper, your voice nearly a moan.

his jaw clenches harder as you place your hand on his chest. his heart is pounding beneath your palm, and it's hard to ignore the way your touch affects him. he tries to keep his resolve, to not give in to his desires, to push you away, but he can't seem to do it.

"you need to stop... this isn't... we shouldn't..."

you look up to meet his eyes, though knowing that he couldn't see you but you could feel his gaze burning into you. you can feel his racing heartbeat, his breathing quickening. he's trying so hard to resist. to be a good, honorable man. to respect the boundaries. you can see how much he's struggling. but you don't care. not when you both know that you need this. this carnal desire to have each other begging to be satisfied.

you huff out in slight frustration. "why? because i'm your client?"

"yes."

his answer only makes you unbutton his shirt faster, pushing it behind him before raking your nails across his skin. you do not want to question how a blind man like him manages to achieve such a perfectly sculptured body.

he groans, feeling your hand on his chest. he can hardly think straight, drunk on your touch. his lust is starting to cloud his judgement. this is a battle he knows he won't win. every fiber of his being is screaming at him to pull you closer, to give in to the need that's coursing through his body. but he tries to fight it, still trying to be a good boy though gods know he's anything but.

"i don't care." all your rational thoughts have fade away, replaced by the overwhelming desire that you have for him.

"fuck...." he groans, throwing his head back in a bliss as he feels you pressing yourself against his hardening bulge. his hands instinctively go to hold you by your hips, the urge to guide you as you grind against him is strong.

matt has always been trying to be a good catholic boy. he's not one to curse, except in bed. but in only a couple days of knowing you, you have made a different man out of him, one that he doesn't even recognize himself.

"stop trying to be a gentleman. i told you, you don't have to pretend in front of me. i can take whoever the real you are."

matt is nice. his smile is charming. he always opens a door for you despite his disability, treats you like a person instead of a criminal like every other attorney or police officer. and you know how all these seem to be the bare minimum but in a world full of assholes who called themselves men, he is a diamond in a haystack.

"you don't understand. i'm.... i'm not a good man."

you could guess. everybody has a dark past. a self-proclaimed gentleman who admits to be lonely like him must have gone through something life-changing. but you couldn't care less in the slightest. you're not interested in who he was or his past. you just want him. this version of matt in front of you right now. this doesn't even have to be more than just you two having sex. you don't want to worry when tomorrow comes.

you study his face and see the pain, the loneliness, the desire behind his red-tinted glasses. you crave nothing more than to take away all his pain. you want to make him feel good, to make him feel loved and you want him to make you feel the same.

"me neither." you say, reminding him of how you two meet. in a police station, with your wrists cuffed to the desk.

"your past doesn't define you. you're a good person to me."

those words shouldn't have affected you so much but they do. those words of reassurance mean more than he could possibly know. he doesn't judge you, doesn't look at you like you're dirty and tainted. this Is the validation you've been desperate to hear.

"yours doesn't define you either, matt." you reach up and place your hand on the side of his face, your thumb softly stroking his cheek. "so stop letting it control you and just focus on what you want right now."

matt releases a deep breath. what he wants, or rather who he wants, is you. and you both know this. you could feel his muscles finally relaxing, the tension of his body slowly goes away and replaced by a deep lust for you.

"fuck it." and he finally crashes his lips against you.

it should be embarrassing how quickly you moan into his mouth but the thought is now so far from your mind thanks to the way his lips move against yours. he kisses you hungrily but with deep precision, like he's been thinking about this for a while. his lips dancing with yours in a perfect rhythm and you let him guide you through the flow.

matt breaks the kiss for a split second to remove his glasses before going back. one hand holding you by your hip, the other by the side of your hair, brushing it down slightly before going down to wrap his fingers around your throat. he doesn't close his grip, just holding you in place but your knees instantly go weak by the action. it's smooth without hesitation. he's not even doing much yet but it already have you a whimpering mess under him.

still with his lips on yours, matt steps forward, making you move in reverse toward his bedroom. you try not to break the kiss and turn around just to make sure that neither of you would be bumping into something but he seems pretty confident in his steps so you let him guide you.

along the way, you two discard each other's clothes. you push his white shirt until he falls to the ground, leaving matt with nothing to cover his upper body, making it easier for you to run your nails across his hard abs.

doing the same to you, matt only stops when you and him finally reach his bedroom to break the kiss and pull up your shirt. his hand then undo the clip of your bra with ease before his lips find yours again. you break the kiss for a split second to see where the bed is which is right behind you. you move in reverse, pulling him by his belt with you before stumbling backwards onto the mattress.

matt has his hands on both sides of your head to hold himself upright while you widen your legs to make space for him in between them before locking your ankles around his waist.

you claw on his chest, holding on for dear life as he lets himself loose, hands roaming to memorize every curves and dips of your body. his lips leave yours, now assaulting your every inch of your neck followed by a few light bites on your collarbone. you had to dug your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress the moans from tumbling over when he grinds his hardness against your clothed sex.

"don't hold back. you wanted me so bad, now let me hear you." matt whispers into your ear before biting your earlobe. the deep, perfect timber of his voice shoots straight down your core. it sounds better than what you have been fantasizing for the last hour. following his commands, you make yourself heard by him. every moans, every whimper, whines and mewl. his name falling from your lips in a most sinful way possible.

his lips trail down to your chest, taking one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth. his thumb brushing your other nipple, squeezing your tit. he can't get enough of how perfectly you tit fits under his palm. you moan, running your finger through his hair to get his mouth impossibly deeper into your chest. his mouth works its magic, sucking and swirling its tongue and gently biting your hardened nub before giving the other the same attention.

matt's focus then shifts to your jeans, eager to get rid of it. you kick it off followed by your panties, not caring where they land on his bedroom floor. he inhales shakily, his heightened sense catching the sweet scent of your dripping cunt in the air.

he pushes your leg apart and caresses your knee first before purposely slowing down his movement until he reaches your inner thigh. his middle and ring fingers then massages across your folds, and a moan left his lips at how you're absolutely soaked for him.

"fuck, you're so wet, sweetheart."

you whimper, buckling your hips for more friction, to hear more of that pet name from him.

"f-for you." you admit, no longer hiding as you shamelessly widen your legs for him, your desperation for him on full display. you try to grind against his hand but his other one holds you by your hip, giving it a light squeeze.

"shhh.... be good. behave." he says it so casually, barely above a breath but it already makes your pussy clench around nothing at how he manhandling you. it's something so incredibly sexy and yet frustrating at the same time, how he manages to be calm though his facial expression doesn't convey the same.

"please.... mhmm—"

matt listens, circling your clit with the same two fingers in a steady pace. not so fast to make you cum for him by doing just this though he'd love to find some other time to make that a reality, and not too slow that he's depriving you of your need.

"i know, i know...." he leans his forehead against yours. he listens to every micro expression of yours, studying just what makes you click. your breathlessness, the way your toes curl, your nails digging into the back of his neck and arm.

then matt suddenly stops but not for long. you don't even get to take a breath as he slips a finger smoothly inside you.

"f-fuck...." a broken moan escapes your lips, already feel so full of his digit.

matt moans, feeling how tight and warm you are, better than how he imagined it. his patience is starting to run thin, finding it difficult to not withdraw his hand and bury himself inside you instead.

"soaking my finger already and i barely even touched you." he grunts, rocking his digit in and out of you. his thrusts are and careful but not slow. he scissors inside you, stretching you out, just how he wants you. his heightened sense helps him to immediately find the perfect rhythm that would make you melt under him.

"oh fuck— fuck, fuck— thank you. thank you—"

that earns another grunt from him. you're so sweet, so polite, thanking him like that. it's only fair that he rewards you with another one of his thick digits.

"oh— fuck—" you mewl, clenching around his fingers. your legs are already shaking and he's just gotten started.

the palm of his hand hits your clit in each pumps, stimulating you further and earning a whine from you. matt just knows what he's doing, as if you two had done this before. if you could even gather a coherent thought, you'd say that it's impressive how effortless the way he's drawing those sounds from you that you didn't even think you could make.

"you're so beautiful like this. so good for me." matt praises, and you wanted to argue that he couldn't see you so he wouldn't know but the tip of his fingers start hitting that sweet spot inside you, making you lose all of your vocabulary. and besides, he's lawyer. you wouldn't want to argue with one. you know you wouldn't win.

"m-matt.... matt— i'm—"

you don't even get to tell him that you're close, he's already pulling out his fingers out of you.

"no...." you pant. your legs are wobbly already, shaking from just his fingers.

"patience, sweetheart. i want you to come on my cock. now, open."

and you listen, opening your mouth to taste yourself on his fingers. you hum, and the vibration shoots straight down to his cock. you coat his digit with your saliva and sucking them a little bit, dreaming of how it'd be if his fingers was his cock instead. he can't see you and yet you find yourself keeping an eye contact on his unfocused pupils.

matt growls, before pulling out his fingers from your mouth. he gets off the bed, freeing his hard cock from the confines of his pants. your lips parted at the sight. he's bigger than any man you have ever taken. thick and long and god he's already hard. it's crazy to think that you made this this way, how you both are equally desperate for one another.

"it's okay." matt reassures you as he crawls back to you, giving you a few pecks on the lips.

"we'll go slow, okay? i'll be gentle." he smiles, kissing you deeply. you nod, breathing shakily as he positions himself in between your legs.

"wait." you stop him, and matt freezes.

"what is it? did i do something wrong?" he asks, worried that he might have accidentally hurt you without realizing.

"no. just— let me." you gather some of your wetness from when he was working you open with his fingers earlier to smear it on his tip.

matt growls at the action. if his cock could grow any harder, it would. "fuck, sweetheart. you're killing me."

you grin, before he grabs you by your throat to kiss you deeply as his hand pumps his cock before pushing you gently back onto the mattress.

"let me make you feel good now." he says it like a promise, before slowly pushing himself inside you.

"ah— fuck. matt—" you mewl, your wall tensing around his length.

"it's okay. i'll go slow. relax for me, darling." he says, spitting on your entrance for more lube.

it feels like forever, before he's finally fully inside you. matt stays like that for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. he pushes your hair aside, his lips travel all across your face in an attempt to soothe the burning sensation inside you. you're panting already just from having his cock buried deep inside you.

"i got you." matt says in a whisper, and you trust him. you trusted him with your future, your life, and now you trust that he will make you feel good.

"fuck...." you moan. he's going slow, finding his pace but the thickness of his cock is already enough to make you see stars.

"m-matt— so big—" a mewl spilling out of your lips. you cling onto his arms, your nails creating crescent-shaped imprints on his skin.

"i know, i know." matt replies but it was far from a smug tone. "but you're taking it so well. such a good girl for me."

fuck.

"please.... s-say it again." usually you'd hate to beg for men. you hate how pathetic it makes you feel. but not with matt. you find yourself willing to do anything to earn those praises again. to make him proud, like he said.

you see how his expression slightly falters, sensing what you need. his knuckles caress your cheekbones softly and you can't help but lean into his touch.

"you're such a good girl for me. you're doing so good. taking me so well. i'm so proud of you."

fuck, fuck, fuck.

you've slept with plenty of men in your life, especially when you were dealing and taking drugs. you were so desperate in wanting to get high that you were willing to spread you legs to any dealer who promised to spare you a few pills. some kept their promises. some were only using you for their pleasure.

but with matt, you weren't expecting anything less. somehow you knew he wouldn't be treating you like those men did. and you were right. he's being tender, gentle. he keeps his hands on either side of your head, as if he's afraid he'd break you further if he touches you. he's fucking you like you're a fragile little doll and you're starting to get tired of it.

"more." you manage to say in a steady voice.

"what?"

"i need more."

"but—"

"you s-said..... that i'm taking you well. i can take more. please."

matt groans. how could he refuse you, when you sound so sweet, begging him like that? when you look so pretty sprawl underneath him like this?

so matt delivers. he listens to your reaction to find out what exactly you need. his hips slam against yours harder, deeper with a slightly faster pace. and it's perfect. in a minute you have become a mess underneath him. the way your eyes flutter in pleasure, having difficulties to keep them open, how he knocks the breath out of you.

matt takes his hand to press his thumb down on your lower belly with his other fingers on your waist, stimulating you further while getting to feel just how deeper and far up your guts he is, pulling out a whimper from you.

"fuck— j-just like that—"

matt could feel you getting close to your peak, but you're not quite there yet. with his one hand still pressing down your belly, he takes his other hand to rub your clit at a steady pace. you moan loudly, back arching at the new sensation.

"yes, yes, yes, yes— fuck. oh my god, yes— just like that—"

god has blessed matt with having a reincarnation of aphrodite underneath him, drunk on his cock and he doesn't understand just what he did to get so lucky tonight. he couldn't get enough of you. your expressions, knowing that this must probably be the first time since your dealing days that someone is pleasuring you like this. and even then, matt doubts any of those men could make you feel like he does right now. your body is perfect. those sounds that you're making are addicting and matt wishes he could do something to have them playing on repeat in his brain.

"m-matt—"

"i know, i know, sweetheart." you don't even have to say it, he could already feel your orgasm approaching from miles away and matt does everything in his power to bring it to you. his fingers continue flicking your clit, his thumb presses down on your lower belly for that extra stimulation, and his tongue never stops from telling you all the things that you been craving to hear. how beautiful you look in this moment, how good you're being for him. how much he wants to feel you milking his cock.

"come for me. let me feel you soaking my dick."

that's all it takes.

your body shakes as a wave of ecstasy washes over you. the scream you let out is enough to earn complaints from his neighbour the next morning. your brain goes numb, empty. the only thing you could think of is just matt. your chest heaves as you pant. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he continue rocking his hips, chasing his own high now.

matt grunts as he gets close to his own release. nearing there, he pulls out, hand pumping his cock as he spills himself on your stomach. you moan, unable to gaze away from how hot he looks right now, jerking his dick off with his head thrown back in pleasure. before collapsing besides you.

silence, but not for long before matt wraps his arm across your waist, pulling you close and burying his face in the junction of your neck. he's panting as well, exhausted certainly. you smile, caressing his arm with your eyes closed.

"not letting you sleep on the couch tonight." you whisper.

"god, i hope so." he replies, and you laugh.

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡Love Through Food🥘

You've ordered: a spiced cardamom tart! enjoy!

"Just the thought of not being alone gets me through"

Jamil Viper x reader | word count: 748 words

Summary: after hearing that you're not eating enough for Iftar, Jamil takes matters into his own hands 🥘 (short little drabble that i spent way too much time on-)

Warnings: reader is yuu, other than that, none!

Note: finally finished this! writer's block sucks 🫠 inspired by this post i made, encouraged to write this by @multifandom-milktea-simp 's comment on said post. can't believe there's only 10 days left T-T Ramadan Mubarak!! 🌙

Ramadan was a hell of a lot harder this year. Or at least that's what your friends thought. Not only did you have to not eat for practically the entire day, you were constantly stressed with whatever absolute bullshit Crowley made you deal with. They just didn't know how you did it.

"So, you really don't eat all day?!" Grim exclaimed, currently chowing down on a can of tuna you got him.

"Nope. I mean, I've been doing this since I was what? Ten years old?" You replied, using the extra time to do some homework.

"Jeez, I could never." the cat like creature mumbled, licking his paws.

"It doesn't seem all that complicated, Grim." You turned around at the sound of the familiar voice. And there he stood.

Jamil Viper, vice housewarden of the Scarabia dorm...and your boyfriend.

"How's the fasting going? Are you eating well when you break your fast?"

For your Iftars, you would usually just have Ace and Deuce take extra portions of food during lunch and keep them for you until sunset. You'd take the food to Ramshackle and try to turn the leftovers into something filling.

"Mhm. I usually find something to eat. Sometimes, I cook for myself and Grim in Ramshackle." you said, not wanting to worry him.

"Really? Good, good...You know..." Jamil began, glancing up at you. "I could always cook Iftar for you. It not a big deal."

"No, it's fine. Really. You already have so much on your plate..." you muttered, Jamil frowning a bit.

You didn't want to bother asking him to cook for you since he already had to do so for Kalim. But when he overheard from the Heartslabyul duo that you were basically eating whatever meatless food items they brought, it just didn't sit right with him.

"Are you sure? I can always-"

You placed a hand on top of Jamil's, gently patting his hand while giving him a reassuring smile as you stood up.

"I'm positive. My class is about to start. I'll see you later. Come on, Grim."

And with that, he watched as you left the cafeteria, a nagging feeling gnawing at him.

Even though you told him you were eating okay, he couldn't help but worry, causing him to take matters into his own hands.

The smell of various herbs and spices filled you and Grim's senses as you two made your way into Ramshackle that night. You didn't remember ever cooking anything. Maybe the ghosts made it.

As you stepped into the living area, your jaws dropped. On the table was a lavish spread of mouthwatering foods: roasted and spiced meats, sautéed vegetables, rice and beans, a pot full of curry, and various sweets. And of course pitchers of freshly squeezed juices.

And who stood at the head of the table with a smile on his lips? The one and only: Jamil Viper.

"Jamil, you..." You were so awestruck by the display, feeling your heart swell with affection. "When did you do all of this?"

"Who cares? Let's eat!" Grim exclaimed, rushing over to the table, only to be stopped by one of the Ramshackle ghosts.

You turned your attention back to Jamil, who reached out and cupped your face in his hands.

"You've been working so hard and fasting everyday at that. You only deserve the best for your Iftar, no more cafeteria food." he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Thank you, Jamil. Really, thank you so much. I...I don't know how to repay you..." you muttered, placing your hands on top of his.

"There's no need. Seeing the look on your face as you enjoy my food is enough for me. Now come, let's eat." Jamil hummed, pulling away and pulling out a chair for you.

"About time!" Grim yelped, scampering into his seat and beginning to stuff himself silly.

"Grim! Slow down, you'll choke!" you chuckled, the cat like creature not minding your words as he grabbed another lamb skewer.

As you began to eat, your eyes widened, taste buds bombarded with various spices and herbs and sauces. It all left you speechless, your reaction being a thumbs up and a frantic nodding of your head.

Jamil was over the moon that you liked his food. Seeing you eat well after studying and fasting all day set his mind at ease, his hands moving to hold your empty one.

This was by far the best Iftar (and the best Ramadan) you'd ever had. 🥘

© m00nkissedlover, 2025

[ashwhowrites]

May I request a Robin x Hopper!reader 🫶 The reader and Robin have been dating and sneaking around. Hopper being Hopper has this suspicion that his daughter is seeing someone and assumes it is a boy. He does everything he can to get reader to tell him but he gets nowhere until he catches the reader and Robin in the act.

It's a tad short but I hope it's what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting ❤️

Not a boy?

Y/N was close with her dad but not about everything. He was overly protective, which made sense since he was a Sheriff. He was quick to ban her from dating boys, but he never gave thought to if she liked girls.

Robin was her girlfriend of a few months and everything has been great. It was a secret, she didn't know how to tell her father she was in a relationship and that it was with a girl.

She thought she was doing well in hiding her relationship, but her dad was growing suspicious. He swore he heard her whispering on the phone at night, she spent more time outside of the house, and she seemed happier than usual. He was aware of the friendship his daughter had with Robin, but he did not know it went deeper than that.

~~~

"So how was your night?" Hopper asked as he sat at the kitchen table sipping his morning coffee.

"It was fine," Y/N shrugged, not thinking anything of it.

Hopper hummed but he wanted to dig deeper. "Been having a lot of phone calls, lately. Something going on?"

"No, just talking to friends," Y/N said. She felt a little nervous, her dad was trying to dig for something and she needed to make sure she didn't slip up.

"Yeah? Just friends? Not a boy or boyfriend?"

"Ew, Dad no." She said, "I do not have a boyfriend."

Hopper nodded and dropped it for that moment in time.

"Is it okay if Robin sleeps over?"

"Yeah but no boys!"

Y/N rolled her eyes, her dad was very oblivious.

"Nothing to worry about there."

~

Y/N was in the shower as she waited for Robin to be dropped off, unaware Robin was there early.

Robin let herself in the familiar house and went to walk to Y/N's bedroom but was stopped by Hopper.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" He whispered from his spot on the couch, the room was dark but the TV lit up his face enough for Robin to see.

"Uh sure," she said, gulping as anxiety filled her. She felt too nervous to make eye contact so her eyes scanned around the room.

"Is Y/N involved with any boys?"

Robin was relieved at the question, laughing softly. "I don't think so. At least nothing that she told me." Robin and Y/N agreed to keep everything a secret, both unsure of how either of their parents would react. And Robin wasn't about to blow their cover to her dad.

"She tells you everything right? So if there was a boy, she'd tell you?" Hopper asked, leaning forward as he kept his voice a whisper. The sound of the shower cutting off.

"Yes," Robin nodded, and she was pretty damn sure Y/N wasn't involved with anyone else, certainly not a boy.

"Good talk, kid. This never happened," Hopper said as he leaned back into the couch and turned his attention to the tv.

Robin sighed in relief and scurried off into Y/N's bedroom.

~

"Think he's asleep?" Robin asked, her eager fingers were already skimming up Y/N's smooth thighs. Y/N shivered underneath her girlfriend's touch, leaning over to see through the crack in her door.

"I don't see the tv on. Let me check," she smiled. Leaving Robin's arms as she walked quietly to the door. She poked her head out into the hallway. Her dad's door closed, and all the lights were off. She closed her door and joined Robin in bed, their lips meeting instantly.

They tried to move as fast as they could without making noise. Quickly hiding under the covers they removed each other's clothes.

Y/N's lips moved to Robin's neck, sucking on the skin gently. Robin quietly moaned as her hands worked down Y/N's stomach, her fingers teasing her underwear band.

Their lips locked again as they ran their hands up and down each other. Both want to touch every bit of skin possible.

Robin's hand slipped inside Y/N's underwear, smirking as she instantly felt how wet Y/N was. Robin kept moving with the kiss as she circled Y/N's clit, feeling her shiver.

"Why is the do-ohmygod," Hopper said as he opened the door just to slam it back shut.

Y/N and Robin pulled back, fear in their bones as they stared at the closed door.

"Oh my God," Robin panicked, reaching to find her shirt that was scattered.

"Do you think he saw?" Y/N panicked, frozen in her spot on the bed.

"Did he? Yeah, he fucking did!" Robin sassed, throwing on her shirt. "You can see his shadow under the door!"

Y/N slipped off the bed and dressed herself. Slowly creeping towards her bedroom door. Robin stood far behind, eating away at her nails as she imagined jumping out the window and making a run for it.

"Girls! We need to talk!" Hopper's loud voice rang through and the girls jumped. Y/N gulped and opened the door.

"Oh hey Dad," she smiled, trying to act nonchalant. "Trouble sleeping?"

Hopper gave her a don't try me look, snapping his fingers as he demanded them into the living room.

"Can you and I talk first?" Y/N whispered, closing the door behind her. Robin quickly ran to the door, pressing her ear against it.

"I know you have questions and that's fine! But please don't tell Robin's parents. She isn't ready for that yet," Y/N explained, even though she was terrified of how her dad would react.

Hopper let out a long and loud sigh, rubbing his face with his hands. "So....it was never a boy?"

Y/N cracked a smile as a low chuckle left his chest. "It was never a boy."

"Well, I think I'll need to figure out how to talk about this," he said as he pointed to her and the door, "but for now, the door is always open and just because you can't get pregnant doesn't mean I want things happening around here." He scolded, it was clear he barely knew what to say as he puffed out his chest to seem more demanding.

"Thanks, Dad," Y/N said softly. She gave him a grateful smile and slipped back into the room, leaving it open with a crack.

"Goodnight Robin," Hopper said through the crack. Robin gulped and quietly said goodnight back, her face burning in a deep blush.

[polkadotzzzz]

mom sevika drabble!

no warnings! just cute dumbs kids!!!!

"ma, why can't i go outside and pick bugs?"

sevika, who was in the middle of fixing her arm, paused and glanced to her left where you were, tiny as ever, staring up at her with those big, curious eyes.

she sighed and nodded her head to the window. "it's raining, remember?"

you frowned, tilting your head. "but i like the rain."

"yeah, you may like it, but it'll be impossible to find bugs with you falling in mud. do you want that to happen? you wanna ruin your dress?"

you took a peek down at your pink princess dress, and like a mood switched, you shook your head rapidly. "no! no! i love this dress!"

sevika nodded. "then you have your answer."

like the bratty child you were, you pouted and climbed up onto the table to sit. "ma," you said again, leaning your head in close to stare at her arm. "i'm hungry."

without as much as looking up, she dismissed you. "if you ate your dinner, you wouldn't be."

you whined. "but ma! it's green, and i don't like green!"

the 'green' you were referring to was the vegetables. if there was anything you hated more than bedtime, it was vegetables. "they taste blah! jinx doesn't eat them! she told me herself!"

your mother sighed harshly. she rubbed her temple, amending the pending headache. "yeah, well, the kid's the size of a pea because of it."

"i hate peas," you said. "they taste nasty, ma, just like broccoli. no one else at school has to eat broccoli! why do i?"

ok, maybe you were a little too young to admit to that the 'school' wasn't actually anything legit, just an old woman who liked reading to the less fortunate children of the lanes—the ones with no parents. "well, because they wanna stay tiny forever. you gotta eat them."

like a dumb little kid you were, you questioned, "but why, ma?"

why was parenting so damn hard? you weren't five anymore; you were getting rebellious.

"well..." sevika put the wrench down and turned towards you. she offered a smile, the best she could do on a stressful day. "sometimes there's things in life that may seem really, really nasty, but when you try them, they're yummy, alright?" you nodded slowly, processing her words. "and there are some things that seem really nasty and are really nasty."

"like what?" you questioned curiously.

sevika snorted lowly and muttered, "men."

of course, your tiny little brain agreed. "yeah!" you cheered. "men are nasty!"

that's one thing you two could agree on.

"yes!" sevika cheered. "men are nasty, nothing's in life, alright, greenie? veggies are also nasty but men will always be top on the list, alright? they stink, and they're ugly, and they make you itch like you bathed in an entire can of scratchy scratch powder."

"ok." you'd agree with anything your ma said, even if it sounded ridiculous. silco wasn't that ugly. he was kinda weird-looking but not horrendous. "but ma, jinx said my daddy is a man. did he give you scratchy powder too?"

oh lord, what was that kid telling her...?

sevika groaned in annoyance and fell back in her chair. "kid," she sighed exasperatedly, "you don't have a dad, just me, kay'?"

your bushy little brows furrowed together. "but jinx had a daddy? why can't i?"

"well..." how was she going to explain to a kid that she hated men and was now a hardcore lesbian? "you see... sometimes a mom and dad don't really love each other—or sometimes the mom hates the dad with all her might and, uh..."

she paused, gathering her thoughts. "sometimes, kid, there's things like broccoli that you think will be good, and it takes a loooot of convincing, but then you try it for the first time and hate it with all your might that you vow to never try it again—but now you're also stuck with the, uh, nasty broccoli in your tummy, and it grows into a big annoying broccoli and it uh..... y'know, costs you an arm and a leg."

she raised her prosthetic arm up in the air. "literally."

you nodded, not even the slightest bit interested. "ok, can i go outside now, ma?"

"hell, i don't care. go pick some bugs, kid. i'll even give you permission to put them in silco's grown-up juice, alright? he's been a meanie lately."

[icallhimjoey]

I need more fake joe pls😭😭🫶🏻

you sent this in ages ago, and im using it for whatever this random shit i came up with is..... HOPE THATS OK LOVE YOU BYE Wordcount: 2.5K

---

I've Got You

Joe wakes up to the sound of the shower going, and momentarily, he thinks that maybe he’s dreaming still. Thinks that whatever he was hallucinating whilst he slept sort of leaked into his awake state, a little.

It feels like it’s not even close to the morning yet.

One tap to his phone on his bedside table tells him he’s right. A squinty eye reads it’s not even 2AM yet.

The fuck are you in the shower for?

He knows the answer before his internal monologue has even asked the question. It had only been a few hours since he’d tried to help soothe the pain in your neck and shoulders. A pain that prevented you from turning your head both ways. Prevented you from being able to get comfortable on a sofa, let alone in a bed.

You’d been trying to massage your own neck all day. Joe had caught you with hands softly rubbing at reddened skin a couple of times, trying to alleviate the pain you felt in sore muscles. It started when you slept on it wrong and woke up with a stiff neck, unable to turn all the way to the right, and now it had graduated to the other side as well.

“Can you please go and see someone? Go get a professional massage? Or actual physiotherapy?”

“It’s fine.”

You didn’t even want to look at him.

You knew very well that it wasn’t fine, but you didn’t want to let someone else touch you where it hurt. It was easier to pretend it would just go away on its own in a few days – part of you really did believe that to be true. You sort of had to. And the suffering you’d have to do until then would just make you a stronger, more well-rounded person.

It was all a test of character, you see.

A bit like when you’d have period cramps and would just.... take it. Suffer through. Wouldn’t take anything to help with the pain. You’d just feel it and suffer through and feel a strange satisfaction at being a strong person that can easily deal with shit like that.

You’re a trooper God fucking damn it, and you were going to fucking prove it.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, et cetera, et cetera.

“You said that three days ago.” Joe dryly argued, and looked at you like he knew he was right. “It’s only gotten worse.”

He was right. But there was no way that this wasn’t the tipping point. The only way from here was up. Had to be up.

“No it hasn’t.”

It had.

“Look how far I can turn my head to the right without any pain…” you demonstrated to prove your point but turned your head very slowly and so very carefully that it made Joe laugh.

“Who exactly are you trying to convince here?” he shook his head, not quite believing how ridiculous you were being.

It was easy to ignore him though.

“Couldn’t do this yesterday, it’s definitely getting better.”

You let fingertips softly push into flesh that hurt much worse before, and pretended the other side of your neck wasn’t actively killing you as the muscles there twisted and stretched.

Joe eyed you for a second, and then suddenly got up. He’d known you for long enough to know that pushing you meant pushing you away, which was the last thing he wanted to do.

But he did want to help.

“Will you let me have a feel?”

“What?” the way you flinched at the suggestion spoke volumes. The way you winced right after maybe even more so. “Help... help how?”

“You’re in good hands.” Joe was already moving across, a hand waving you over, and the strength of acting like you were fine somehow weighed heavier than the panic of having Joe touch you where you were hurting.

Barely, though.

Only just.

Joe sat down on the sofa, scooched all the way against the back, tapping his hand between his opened legs.

“Come sit.”

You hesitated for just a second too long.

“I won’t hurt you.”

“I know you won’t,” you lied, convinced he was absolutely going to if you let him near you, so you softly added, “Just... be gentle, okay?”

That made Joe’s chest ache. It was one thing to see your girlfriend in pain. It was a whole other to have her be fearful of being hurt even more by the hands that only want to desperately make better.

“Of course. C’mon. I’ve got you.”

You sat down between Joe’s legs, right on the edge of the sofa, and it took a couple of deep breaths for you to try and relax as much as you were able to. And Joe was clever about his touches. Grabbed you by the biceps first to squeeze your arms there for a moment, moving them up and down, shaking you about slightly to check how easily you’d move with him.

“Would you just... trust me?”

You kind of wish you could, but you genuinely couldn’t. Which wasn’t Joe’s fault. You wouldn’t trust anyone with this, really.

“Have I ever hurt you before?” Joe tried making a point but failed spectacularly. His question made your brain immediately find a memory Joe thought you’d forgotten about.

“Yea you kneed me in the vag once, remember, and–”

“Oh my God, intentionally! Have I ever hurt you intentionally before? No. I haven’t.”

You stayed silent for a moment, secretly smiling to yourself before Joe quietly went, “Have I?”

“No.” you confirmed, then, your voice revealing your smile. “You haven’t. I’m just... here, this bit? It’s getting better, I swear, but it’s almost just... painful to the touch and I–”

You couldn’t help the miniature bit of movement as Joe let fingertips skim across where you were gesturing. Joe noticed it, but you corrected yourself immediately, slinking back down slightly.

“Yea this feels hot...”

“It’s because I’ve been rubbing, I think.”

“Does it burn?”

“A little.”

A lot, actually. But you understood that abnormal tenderness of strained muscles would do that. It wasn’t like you’d never had a sore neck before. You just didn’t remember ever having it be so severe. Have it last so long.

For a couple of minutes, maybe five, six, Joe did as promised. Used gentle fingers, soft pressing touches that hurt when he found the wrong – the right – spots.

It actually felt nice.

Every time you flinched, he moved his fingers to different spots, and Joe felt how you slowly relaxed more under his massaging hands.

And it was just then.

Just when you thought you could lean back a little and fully slacken into his front, suddenly, a thumb harshly pressed into sore tissue and made lightning explode behind your eyes.

“Ahh– Stop, stop, stop.”

Joe did.

Immediately.

“Sorry! Sorry.”

Hands moved down to rub at your arms again for a moment, trying his best to regain the little bit of trust he’d just lost.

“Hurts.”

“I know, sorry. I’ve got you.”

You felt a tiny little apologetic kiss of lips that barely touched your shoulder before Joe let his fingers trail back up. Slowly, he got you back into that same state where he could feel you were relaxed enough to let him get some actual work done.

Your frown was there to stay, though.

It only took about a minute for him to make a similar move, one he knew would make you lurch forward like you just had done. He knew it would be received just as bad, if not worse. Knew the touch wouldn’t feel very kind, but, Jesus fucking Christ, how else could he convince you to go see an actual doctor?  

This next move wasn’t going to make him very popular, he was well aware.

Joe drove a thumb into a bit of flesh that had no business feeling as sore as it did, and, he was right.

“Ow stop!! Be fucking gentle! Did I not just say that it hurts?” You moved forward and turned your whole torso to look at him over your shoulder, face in a deep frown, betrayed and offended and hurt.

“Do you want me to fix it or not?” Joe said, hands hovering over your shoulders, voice and facial expression much less caring and apologetic than you were expecting him to be.

“You’re pushing your whole hand in between my bones, how is that fixing it?!”

“Lean back, I know what I’m doing.”

Joe tried to use a firm grip to move you to where he wanted you and quickly got his hands back on you.

Everything inside of you screamed no.

You wanted soft slow touches that barely grazed your skin. Massaging fingers that you appreciated but that didn’t really do anything. Just nice, kind fingertips. None of this.

“It’s this bit, this is the worst of it.”

A single hand to your neck made you flinch up and out of the spot between Joe’s legs.

“Oh piss off– done. I’m done. You’re done, that hurts. You’re hurting me, I can’t–”

“Babe you need to– it’s bad. There’s no other way to get rid of it without biting that bullet.”

“Fuck you, I asked you to be gentle and you’re deliberately hurting me.”

“I’m trying to help you! I don’t want to listen to you wince every time you make the smallest little bit of movement in bed tonight.”

“Fine. You won’t have to. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“Oh yea, ‘cause that’ll surely fix it.”

“Shut up. I’ll be fine.”

“Fine. You’re wrong. But fine. Whatever.”

Joe had gone to bed that night, and had waited for you to eventually find your way over and slip under the covers after you’d cooled down enough. You would, he knew, because you always did. But then he’d fallen asleep as he twiddled his thumbs, and now, the sound of a shower had pulled him back into consciousness.

Have you even gone to bed at all?

With a deep sigh that graduates into a yawn, Joe lets himself roll out of bed to check what’s going on. Stiff hips take a few steps to ease up as he makes his way over to you.

Joe opens the bathroom door and is hit with a cloud of steam. The contrast in temperature is intense - you’ve turned the bathroom into an actual sauna, revealing to Joe that you’ve already been in there for a good while.

“Hey, are you...” Joe starts, but stops when he sees you stood in the shower, a hot steaming stream of water hitting you right where he knows you’re in the most pain.

Your skin colours bright red.

And you’re crying.

You’re actively, but extremely unsuccessfully, holding back sobs.

Part of you hates that you woke up your boyfriend, but a large part of you is pleased to have someone there to take the reins.

The look on your face is one Joe hasn’t seen before. Not on your face, anyway. There’s absolutely no strength left - just... sheer desperation. A wobbly mouth and red-rimmed bleary eyes that make you look like you’re not fully mentally there.

“Hey...” Joe coos, stepping into the room fully now, one arm already tucking into his T-shirt so he can take it off. “Is it that bad?”

“I d-don’t know what t-to do...” you stutter through your words, and Joe’s heart cracks right down the centre.

If you’ve stopped acting like you’re fine, it means it’s serious.

“I j-just want to sleep. I can’t get into any position for more than 30 seconds without wanting to move, and I... my head, it’s... non-stop, this is... it’s non-stop...” you’re heaving, practically hyperventilating, trying to remain quiet still because it’s the middle of the night and you have neighbours, but, what the fuck, nothing you’ve tried to alleviate the pain is working.

The shower was your last resort, and the water helps a little, but not nearly enough to feel comfortable in any way.

Joe pulls his T-shirt over his head and lets it drop to the floor, not hesitating for a second as he gets into the shower with you. Unsure hands hover around you a little at first, afraid to touch you and make it worse.

He doesn’t want to make it worse, but his girlfriend is crying in the shower under scalding hot water in the middle of the night because her neck hurts and all he wants to go is make it go away.

“What do I.... what do I do?” Joe asks softly, hoping that you have an answer.

“I don’t know... I don’t...” you’re spasming through breaths as Joe turns the temperature of the water down to more of a sensible heat. Something that won’t make a layer of his skin slide off after a minute or two.

“Soft touches? Like before?” Joe needs to have you agree before he feels like he can touch you. He’s no doctor. All the knowledge on massages that he’s got is from when he gotten massaged himself.

“Can you... can you just...” you sob, one hand reaching out to grab onto one of Joe’s who’s extremely glad he’s about to get an instruction.

You move Joe’s hand up to your face and try to place it over your jaw.

“Can you hold my head?”

Joe obliges immediately, even though he doesn’t know how this helps at all. With both hands cupping your face he spreads his fingers wide and flexes his triceps to take the full weight of it.

“Hold your head? Like this?”

You close your eyes at the instant relief.

“Oh, my God,” you sigh, and for whatever reason, it just makes you cry more.

Joe’s underwear darkens more when he leans in to press kisses to the parts of your face his hands aren’t covering. He shouldn’t be able to taste the salt of your tears through all this shower water, he thinks.

He also thinks you genuinely might need a neck brace.

“That feel better?”

“Please can do you this all night?” you keep your own hands folded over his to make sure they stay where they are.

“Stay like this?”

Yea, he’s gonna see if he can find one of those foam neck braces tomorrow. If you don’t want to go see a doctor, then at least there’ll be that, and he knows you’ll hate it because it’ll look funny, but God. At least there’ll be that.

That, and every over-the-counter painkiller under the sun.

He’ll fight you if you won’t take any.

Joe can feel the minor adjustments you’re making in his hands, moving with him enough to keep yourself aligned exactly right for you to fully relax everything between your jaw and your chest.

“I’ll just sleep here, like this,” you joke, and Joe can’t help the little laugh that startles out of him.

“Go ahead,” Joe smiles against your forehead, knowing that there’s little chance you’ll actually sleep standing up like this.

But then he sees the way your face relaxes. How the lines in your forehead disappear. How your lips go a bit funny in between his palms.

“I’ve got you...” he whispers. Means it.

He hasn’t gone through months of push-ups and pull-ups for fucking nothing, so it seems.

“I’ve got you.”

---

The Taglisted

@almightywdm, @alwayslindie, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @dailyobsession

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@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @xxladymjxx, @yunirgo

Add yourself

[graysonfics]

the apple pie life is something you’d never admit to the winchesters that you desperately crave. you were born into hunting, and you’re damn good at it, but part of you longs for the white picket fence and doting husband. the husband in your dreams is always dean, but you’d also never admit that. especially because he has the apple pie life you dream of with someone who isn’t you.

you don’t know why you’re on lisa’s doorstep right now. you can’t bring yourself to knock on the door because you know dean will be on the other side, and you haven’t seen him since that horrible night he left you. you cried yourself to sleep with no sam to comfort you.

you shake off the memory and knock on the door. with a hammering heart, you wait. eventually the door opens and you’re met with familiar green eyes that knock the wind out of your chest.

“(y/n)?” dean looks surprised. “what are you doing here?”

“i’m sorry to bother you,” you cough in an attempt to clear the nervousness from your tone. “i need to talk to you.”

dean nods, opening the door wider for you without a second thought. you follow him into the house he’s made a home for lisa and her son. there’s photos of them lining the walls that lead to the kitchen, dean smiling brightly in each and every one of them. you’re scared you’re going to puke.

“sit down,” he pulls out a chair at the kitchen table for you. “i’ll get you some water.”

dean busies himself with grabbing a glass from the cabinet and you try not to look around the kitchen. you imagine the life he has with lisa here, the family dinners around a real table instead of chinese takeout on motel room beds.

“it’s good to see you,” he says, sitting across from you. you can’t tell if he’s lying. “i tried to call—“

“you didn’t,” you smile sadly. “but it’s okay.”

“it isn’t. we both lost him.”

your throat tightens at the reminder of sam trapped in lucifer’s cage. you carefully think about your next words.

“about that…”

dean sits up, “what is it?”

“sam’s back,” you tell him and dean’s face softens. “he’s been back for about a year. before you get mad, he asked me not to tell you. he knew you’d leave lisa and ben behind if you found out and he wanted you to have a chance at happiness, dean.”

“where is he?” dean’s tone is calm but you can see the fury in his eyes.

“he’s fine.” you reassure him.

“(y/n)—“

“he’s fine,” you promise. “i just… i needed to tell you. he doesn’t know i’m here. he asked me not to come. and i… i wanted to see you.”

you swallow the lump in your throat and take a sip of water to distract yourself from saying too much. from telling him how much you hate him for leaving you, how you wish he would just come home.

dean’s about to say something when the front door opens. you hear lisa talking to ben and you stand up from the table in a rush, almost knocking over the glass of water.

“(y/n),” she sounds surprised as she enters the kitchen, her smile faltering. “hi.”

“hi, lisa,” you give her a small wave. “sorry for the intrusion. i needed dean’s advice on some… stuff.”

lisa nods, but she’s looking at dean over your shoulder and you know they’re going to talk about this once you leave.

“anyway, i should probably get going. thanks for having me,” you force a smile. “lovely to see you again, lisa.”

“you too.”

dean follows you to the front door and you avoid his eye as you go to leave. he grabs you by the wrist gently and you turn to look at him.

“sweetheart, i—“

“i’m happy for you,” you can feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes as your voice lowers to a whisper. “you deserve this so much, dean.”

“i’ll come with you.” he offers.

“i know you don’t want to,” you respond. “give him time, he’ll come and see you. i’m so happy you got out. i just wish you hadn’t left me behind.”

“(y/n)—“ he says, but you’re already out the door.

[fluffypinkhedgehog]

❀⊱Walking Home Part 3⊰❀ ⤷ Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader | sfw, angst, one-shot, school au

w/c: 1,882

summary: Shadow's worried, so he followed you to the library.

warnings: Miscommunication, Shadow's P.O.V.

a/n: Man, these kids really need to speak their minds. (I need to learn that, too.) Also, I injured my wrist, somehow(???), so this was written with a lot of pain lol. Oh, and I decided on a theme song for this little series. Not because of the lyrics themselves, but Carly Rae Jepson's Call Me Maybe's vibe is very "hopeless romantic teenagers" lol. On top of that, I do have an idea for the ending of Walking Home. Not exactly sure how we'll get there, but I'll certainly try to make it as entertaining as possible! ღ P.S. There was an edit to the last chapter. See if you can find it! P.P.S. This took WAYYY longer to write than I wanted it to, BUT IT TURNED OUT SO GOOD AAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Shadow approached the double doors to the school library, stopping. He had followed you in haste, not really thinking about what he would do once he found you. What would he say? What would he do? He can't exactly comfort you, could he? Well, isn't that why he followed you? Shadow closes his eyes and takes a breath through his nose, trying to calm his thoughts. Letting them run rampant right now isn't going to help the situation. Shadow balls his hand into a fist at his side while the other grips the strap of his backpack like a lifeline. He just had to make sure you were okay, nothing else. He didn't even have to talk to you.

With a huff of finality, Shadow gripped the handle of the door to the library, pushing it open with ease. A small tinkle of a bell rang out as the door opened, alerting the librarian at the desk who looked up from her book, which was poorly disguised as a magazine. A classic move many kids in his classes pulled when trying to use their phone during a time they shouldn't, though— for Shadow— it was a first to see someone trying to read an obvious erotica novel behind one. Shadow nodded to the librarian in greeting, who silently nodded back before returning to her debaucherous reading choice.

Turning away from the librarian's desk, Shadow headed deeper into the library. Normally, he would've asked the librarian where you went inside, but Shadow knew your favorite spot. Besides, he's pretty sure that miss librarian was too swathed in her book that she didn't know where you went. That's fine.

Shadow looked down the aisles as he walked through the library. For how quiet the library was, there were a lot more students here than he initially thought. He spotted a couple messing around, running between the aisles as one chases the other as silently they could without disrupting the whole library. Shadow rolled his eyes and sighed through his nose. He wouldn't admit it, but he was jealous.

As Shadow made one more turn he finally reached the back of the library, a popular spot for those who have a lot of studying to do or simply wish to sleep. That's where he found you; sitting at the center table with your face buried in your history textbook, your notebook to your right with pretty, color-coded, and curly handwriting. The table you sat at was your favorite spot; it got the best sunlight in the entire library. He often found you in sunlight. He liked the way the warm sun casted a halo around you, how it made you so sleepy but you were too stubborn to fall asleep in its warm embrace. Every time, though, you would always succumb to its sweet and warm embrace in the end.

Shadow shifted the strap of his bag on his shoulder, steeling himself. He didn't really want to distract you from your studies, but he promised himself that he would check in with you to see if you were alright. You looked bothered by the rumors, after all. Shadow put his free hand up to his mouth and coughed, trying to get your attention, but it didn't work. He coughed pretty loud too. That's when he noticed earbuds in your ears. You must be listening to your favorite low-fi music. He noticed that you liked the outdated stuff from the playlist you once showed him, songs from over 10-ish years ago. Shadow rubbed his fingers against his thumb in nervous hesitation before reaching forward and tapping you on the shoulder.

The reaction was immediate: a loud yelp that echoed off of the thick glass of the windows and a thump from you hitting your knee under the table, making your favorite thermos fall over, the liquid inside going all over the table. Thankfully, it was just water with ice.

“Ah, shit, shit, shit!” Shadow flinched back as you exclaimed as quietly as you could, scrambling to grab your jacket and soak up the water on the table before it could ruin any important papers. A 'Shhh!' comes from a nearby table, annoyed by the noise. You turn towards the shusher and respond with a heartfelt “Sorry!” before sighing and bending down to pick up the thermos that fell off the table.

Shadow felt really guilty. He didn't mean to scare you so badly. He scratched the back of his head, ruffling his quills. He looked back at you, the grip on his backpack strap tightening slightly. It's becoming a bad habit. “Do you mind if I... sit here?” He asked, tentatively.

“No— huh? I mean, yes! Yes, you can sit here. At the table. Here,” you cough, “Yes.” Crap, it was obvious he made you uncomfortable. He felt even more guilty now. He watched as you moved most of your items on the table, most of which were soaked along with your jacket. He noted that it was one of your comfier jackets. Damn it, he's just ruining your entire day at this point, isn't he? It was a bad idea to try and follow you.

Shadow pulled out the chair closest to him, dropping his bag on the floor beside him as he sat down. He dug through his backpack for his homework. By the time he pulled it out and looked back up at you, who had sat back down with a huff, a cloud had covered the sun, making you lose that ethereal glow. It made him a bit sad, but he can't control the weather. The two of you sat in silence as you continued studying your history textbook and Shadow started on his.

Shadow's mind started to swim with intruding thoughts. Every little motion of yours he was overthinking. Your scrunched face caused him worry, the tapping of your pencil gave him anxiety. He knew these were just your little quirks, which he found adorable, don't get him wrong, but the guilt was eating at him. He had to speak up. “Are you okay?”

You let out a startled 'huh?', looking up at him, surprise written on your face. “Oh, uh,” You look away, towards the window. Your gaze becomes distant. “Yeah, I'm okay.” It was another silent moment before you move your gaze back to your homework. Shadow wasn't convinced of your answer, his brows furrowing. That's when you look back up at Shadow, your expression beaming. “Thanks for asking, Shadow. I appreciate it.”

Shadow's heart skipped a beat. There's that smile he always liked. He smirked, giving a single chuckle through his nose. “I'm glad.” Shadow paused. He wanted to keep up a conversation with you. He wracked his brain as he watched you go back to your homework. He had to do it fast! What would he say, though? “Are you... going to the next track meet this weekend?”

Shadow caught you at a bad time. You were in the middle of taking a drink of whatever was left inside of your thermos, which probably was not a lot considering that it got dumped all over the table. Either way, he caught you off guard, yet again, causing you to accidentally inhale your water and choke on it. When will he stop ruining things? Shadow stood up, hovering over you. He didn't know what to do, the Heimlich maneuver that he just learned last week slipping out of his mind like sand. “I'm fine, I'm fine,” you said in between coughs. “You just caught me off guard, sorry!”

“It's okay,” Shadow replied, not really knowing how to reply to that. He sat back down in his seat. He looked at you, face full of worry. You looked at him and giggled a bit. Was something on his face? You shifted in your seat a bit.

“I'm gonna be busy on that day,” you finally said, fiddling with your mechanical pencil. Shadow's heart sunk. “Sadly, I got work!” You said with a sad smile. You had a job?

“I didn't know you had a job,” Shadow said, relaxing back in his chair. He was trying to look nonchalant, but he wasn't quite sure if it was working or if he just looked dumb.

“Uh, yeah. I work at the bowling alley. You know, the one down on main street.” Shadow knew that place. It wasn't exactly the safest spot, but the bowling alley was popular so it was safer than others. He was relieved that it wasn't any of the other bowling alleys in town.

“Maybe I'll visit,” Shadow said. Oops, he wasn't supposed to say that out loud. You looked at him, facial expression shocked. Did you hate the idea that much? He knew you didn't like him as much as he liked you, but your reaction did hurt him a little. Backpedaling, Shadow continued: “With the track team. Sonic's been saying he's been wanting to go. Bowling, I mean.”

“Oh,” you said, visibly deflating. Did you.. Not hate the idea? “Yeah, sure. It would make things at least a little lively there.” You gave a sad smile, eyebrows furrowed. You went back to your textbook as fast as the conversation ended.

It became awkward. You and Shadow worked on your homework in absolute silence, the only sounds were the rustling of paper and pencils writing. Shadow couldn't take it any longer. He set his pencil down, looking up to tell you the truth, that he wanted to visit so the two of you could hang out outside of school, but when he looked up he found you slumped over your textbook, asleep. The sun came out from the clouds in that moment, washing you in that warm, ethereal glow. He stared for what felt like forever but was only mere moments before he smiled, closing his textbook and putting it away along with his worksheets.

Shadow stood up and started gathering your things, putting them in your small messenger bag. He wasn't sure exactly how you liked things put away, so he hoped that what he was doing was good enough. He gingerly peeled you off of your textbook, replacing it with your jacket— which was has thankfully dried out already— and putting it in your bag before putting your back inside of his backpack so it's secure.

Shadow then moves you off of your jacket so he could put it inside of his backpack as well. He was glad that he had such a large backpack. Afterwards, he slung his bag over his shoulders and picked you up. You immediately clung to him in your sleep, getting comfortable in his arms. A small blush crept up on his face as he started to leave the library. This certainly wont quell the rumors anytime soon. That's when he heard you say his name as he walked out the library doors.

“Shadow,” you said, sleepily, almost slurring. Were you already awake? “I like you.”

Shadow froze in place. His face was entirely flushed. You liked him? Then he heard you lightly snore, continuing with something nonsensical. Oh. You were sleep talking. Shadow's heart sunk, his blush fading quickly. But... What if what you were saying in your sleep were your true feelings? If they were...

He wished they were.

Tag list: @affinitytales

[assortedcriminality]

Thursday - part II

part I

Monday

Civilian woke in the dark, lying under the warm covers of the bed. They blinked, eyes adjusting to their surroundings. A bit of light peeked out from the black curtains on the other side of the room. A glance at the side table, bare save for a small digital clock, told them it was already well past nine. They jerked into a sitting position, a jolt of panic electrifying their body, throwing back the blanket and preparing to jump into an accelerated version of their morning routine. Before they could, the sight of the completely unfamiliar room before them jogged their memory of the previous day.

With a loud sigh, Civilian collapsed backward, tangled hair splaying over the pillow. What a mess. They couldn't believe they'd even agreed to take a message to Villain in the first place. Hero had told them, a lowly assistant with no powers or training, to meet one of the most dangerous criminals in the city with no backup. And, like a total idiot, Civilian had agreed. They should've stood up to them and refused to do it. How did they not see that Hero had something planned? The crime-fighter could easily deliver a letter, there was no reason for them to ask Civilian—except, of course, an ulterior motive. To pay Villain back for whatever deal the two of them had together. It was all so stupid. 

Civilian sat up and pushed the covers back, glancing around at the largely empty space. They didn’t know what they would’ve expected Villain’s guest room to look like, but it was very… gray. Gray walls, gray carpet, gray sheets and blanket. The only furniture aside from the bed and side table was a dresser across the room. Atop it sat an empty flower vase and an envelope. Supposing they might as well get up at some point, Civilian stretched before hopping out of bed, haphazardly tossing the blanket back into place. They crossed the room, picking up the envelope. ‘Civilian’ was written on it in a looping script they never would’ve guessed was Villain’s handwriting. They were learning all kinds of things about their boss’ nemesis. Civilian ripped open the seal and pulled out the folded note. 

Civilian-

I have work to do today and won’t be back until tonight. There are clean clothes in the dresser and you can have anything from the kitchen. I’ve locked the doors and windows and taken out everything with WiFi--it’s for your safety. I don’t think Hero would try anything, but it’s best to be cautious. There are books and DVDs in the living room. Use whatever you want. We can talk when I get back.

Villain 

Civilian set the note down, suddenly uncomfortable. Maybe Hero wasn’t the greatest, but Villain was still on the wrong side. They didn’t want to know what their ‘work’ entailed. Hearing that they were fully locked in the house made their situation more real. They were truly, actually a hostage. A prisoner. Maybe it was for their own good, to pacify Hero and make sure someone else didn’t pay the price for their irritation. But that didn’t make Civilian’s situation any more fun. And neither did the fact that they apparently wouldn’t have any access to the internet for the next three days. 

“Think of it as a screen-free break,” they said aloud. “A totally voluntary vacation with no work and no responsibilities.” It didn’t make them feel much better. 

They picked out dark jeans and a white T-shirt from the dresser and put them on, folding their old clothes and placing them in an empty drawer. After trying a few doors in the hall, they found the bathroom, which Villain had apparently already stocked with toiletries. It was weird to think about the master criminal picking out a toothbrush for them. Hero had always made Villain out to be a monster to Civilian, often mentioning rumors of the terrible things they’d done. Recorded fights between the two looked brutal, each pummeling the other with their powers and fists. Hero was always fiery, literally, anger turning their face redder than the flames shooting from their hands. What made Villain scary was their icy calm, eyes sharply intelligent but bored and uncaring through their mask. 

And now Civilian was looking through that same terrifying criminal’s fridge, which mostly held takeout containers and yogurt. They supposed if Hero could force their own assistant to be their greatest nemesis’ captive, the infamous Villain could enjoy strawberry Yoplait. People were complicated like that.

After finishing a bowl of slightly stale wheat cereal, Civilian started snooping. The house wasn’t enormous, but it was tastefully furnished with expensive-looking decor and appliances. The halls were lined with paintings, several of which Civilian swore they recognized from articles they’d read about recent museum thefts. Most of the doors they tried were locked--in fact, it seemed as though the only rooms Civilian had access to were their room, the kitchen, the living room, and a sitting room with three enormous bookshelves. The books it held were worn, and every one Civilain flipped through was covered in annotations inked in Villain’s neat cursive handwriting. 

Deciding they were too tired to focus on reading, they chose to spend the day watching movies and eating whatever non-expired snacks they could find in Villain’s cabinets. The bin of DVDs in the living room was almost entirely made up of old detective films, with a few rom-coms thrown in. Civilian put in the disc for The Maltese Falcon and sat down on the plush couch, hugging their knees to their chest. They closed their eyes and let the noise from the movie wash over them, trying not to think too hard about their situation. There was nothing they could do about it now. They just had to wait until Villain got back, and maybe they could figure it all out. Maybe it could all be fine. 

* * *

It was past midnight when Villain landed back on their porch, moonlight casting a soft glow over their black hood. They unlocked the door with a quiet click, taking off their disguise as they went in and closed the door securely behind them. They could hear the TV playing quietly inside.

“Civilian, I’m back,” they called as they opened a panel in the wall that hid their suit and placed it inside. “I heard something today that I want to talk to you about.” They slid off their shoes before strolling down the hall and pausing in the living room doorway. “Civilian?” There was no response. Villain flicked on the light, revealing the captive curled up and sound asleep in the corner of the couch, head resting against the cushion. They couldn’t help the smile that tugged at their mouth at the sight. They crossed the room, pressing the power button on the remote to turn off the noir film Civilian had been watching. 

Civilian looked so peaceful like that, their chest slowly rising and falling, their face devoid of any stress or fear. If being Hero’s assistant was as bad as it seemed, maybe this situation was almost a blessing for them. Villain had known Hero for years now, well enough to have an idea of the kinds of things they would put their employees through. Their smile disappeared at the thought. Civilian wasn’t here on vacation. They weren’t here as a punishment, either. They were here because Hero thought it would be fun to meddle in their personal life, to force them to be held prisoner just because they could. And they’d made Villain the warden. 

Villain never should have mentioned their plans for Thursday to Other Villain. They knew better. The city might think the criminals created the masterful schemes, but Hero used everyone as their pawns. They gazed at Civilian’s tranquil expression, hoping the innocent assistant could escape Hero’s web once this was all over. Villain knew that Civilian would be safe as long as they stayed in the house, but they couldn’t account for what Hero might do on Thursday, or when Civilian quit. It was too much to put on someone who didn’t sign up for it, who didn’t even have powers to defend themself. It was Villain’s responsibility to take care of them, protect them--with force, if necessary. It was the least they could do. With a sigh, Villain took a folded blanket from the other side of the couch and gently covered Civilian with it, glancing at them one last time before turning off the light and closing the door behind them. 

“Goodnight, Civilian. Sleep well.” 

Word count: 1432

@sausages-things (sorry I forgot to tag last time!) @chaotic-orphan

[elliespuns]

Joel is a huge fan of reading sessions before bed. He used to do it with Sarah - at first it was him reading her bedtime stories; then when she deemed herself too grown up for bedtime stories, it turned into them cuddling on the couch, each one reading their respective book -, now he does in his home in Jackson. He has a bit of a ritual. He'll tell you to get settled on the couch and he'll be right over. Soon, he's walking into the living room carrying a cup of coffee for himself and a steaming mug of tea for his woman. His ritual includes pulling you into his side and giving your head a kiss before he dives into his book. Sometimes he can't help but sneak a few glances at you, see how your brows furrow while you read, how you get a tiny smile on your lips sometimes... he claims he can't help it because you're more interesting than his books.

Joel carries your mugs into the cozy living room, the warm steam of the tea, the rich aroma of coffee filling the space between you. He sets the drinks on the side table before sinking into the couch, one arm immediately encircling your shoulders to pull you snug against his side. You can feel the solid strength of his body, his heartbeat through his thin t-shirt as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. He reaches for his book and clears his throat. "Comfy?"

You sink deeper into the plush cushions, the soft buzz of contentment humming in your chest at this ritual you've settled into with him. There's nowhere else you'd rather be than right here, wrapped up in your favorite sweater, the one he loaned you that smells like his detergent, sipping tea and reading while the warm bulk of him anchors you.

As you read, you become aware of the weight of his gaze on your face. You can practically feel the slight furrow of his brows, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners in a smile as he watches you react to some passage in your book. Sneaking a glance up at him, you return his smile with a soft "Hey..."

He looks down at you, his eyes warm and full of affection. "I'm sorry." He murmurs. "I just can't help it. You're far more interesting to watch than any of the characters in my book." His large hand smooths over your hair, cupping the back of your head to hold you against him as he nuzzles into your temple. You can feel him inhale deeply, like he's trying to memorize your scent.

Your pulse flutters at his proximity, at the intimacy of the moment. You set your book aside, angling to face him better. "I don't mind." You whisper, reaching up to stroke along his stubbled jaw. "I like feeling your eyes on me."

He huffs a quiet laugh, catching your wandering fingers and bringing them to his lips to press a lingering kiss to your knuckles. "Good. Because I certainly don't mind having you as my captive audience." His thumb rubs slow circles on the sensitive skin of your wrist.

You preen into his touch, the book forgotten at your side. He makes you feel so cherished, so adored in these quiet moments. Like you're the only person in the world, the only one who matters. "Mine." he breathes against your fingers, his eyes dark and intent on yours.

You shiver at the low rumble of his voice, the weight of that single word. Yours. You are his, as surely as he is yours. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

[loversrocktvgirl2]

my mini multiverse of madness…

Young!Tony x Reader - Jail Time

Warnings: None. Maybe some foul language?

A/N - I know based off of the poll, y’all don’t love young Tony as much as I do. But WHO CARES I WROTE THIS

You were seething in the corner of the jail cell you were sitting in with Tony. Tony was laughing. You glared daggers at him. “Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny.”

Tony snorted. “Yes, it is. You’re too sweet to be angry.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him. “Not true. I’m pissed as hell. You’re why we got into this goddamn mess.”

Tony just snickered.

“Maybe I should take up axe throwing,” you scowled at him. “Betcha Nat could teach me. Then I could throw one right through your face.”

This made Tony burst out laughing. You were clearly not practiced in threatening people. He’s a lot better at it than you are, but he’d never really wanna threaten you. Especially not right now. He had gotten you into this mess after all. 

You groaned. “Just go away.”

“Well, we are kind of stuck,” Tony pointed out, giggling a little as he gestured to the jail cell surrounding the two of you. You pouted and slunk down to the floor, sitting down. “Look, I’m sorry,” Tony said, trying not to appear as amused as he was. 

“Liar.” 

— — — 

TWO DAYS EARLIER 

“Listen, we’ve got an important mission for you all,” Nick Fury informed the table. In front of him sat you, Tony, Steve, Nat, Thor, Clint, and Bruce. You were all between the ages of eighteen and nineteen, with the exception of Steve, who was technically sixty-nine, but had the knowledge and appearance of a twenty-one year old who had grown up in the 1920s and 1930s. It was weird as hell, but he was starting to get the hang of things here. “And I know you’re young—”

“Steve isn’t,” Nat chimed. The table chuckled and Nick rolled his eyes. 

“---but we’ve decided to trust you,” Nick continued. “Don’t let this prove to be a mistake. Here are the mission details we can give you: this is an intel mission. We will be dividing you into three groups with three different objectives. Ideally, don’t tell each other about them. Just talk to your teammate, okay? But you have different objectives.”

The whole team nodded in understanding. It bothered Steve the most, but you understood the way S.H.I.E.L.D. worked, and this was the most up-front Fury had been with you ever. 

“Alright. Team one, you’re Steve, Nat, and Clint. Thor and Bruce, I’ve got you for team two, and team three is you two,” Nick pointed at you and Tony. “Don’t make me regret trusting you, Tony.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony nodded. “Did you seriously put Y/N with me to keep me in check?”

“I’m not babysitting him,”  you clarified. 

“I didn’t say that you were,” Nick replied, his tone calm. 

“Okay, but you put her with Tony, who loves to go rogue, and she’s good at sticking to a plan, so…what kind of message is that supposed to send?” Nat argued back with him. You high-fived her, and she nodded her head at you, giving you a slight smile. The girls gotta stick together. 

“It’s not supposed to send a message,” Nick said. 

“It kind of does send one though,” Bruce said tentatively. Nat smirked. 

“Okay, stop,” Nick held his hands up. “Maybe I paired them because I thought it would go better than Tony and Clint. It’s not that deep, do not read so far into it. Now. Tony and Y/N are on an intel mission. Steve, Nat, and Clint are on a rescue mission.Thor and Bruce, you’re gonna come in later. Alright.” Nick handed each of you a folder with the details you were allowed to know in it.

Tony turned to you and mock saluted. “Howdy, partner.” You snorted, and turned your eyes back to the paper to read over it. Tony grinned. He liked when he could make you laugh or smile at his antics. Steve hummed. You looked up over at him to see what the noise was about, but he was no longer looking at you and Tony, and was reading through his paper. You shrugged and went back to reading. 

Tony glanced over at you, and then he went back to reading. 

You and Tony were supposed to gather intel from a secret Hydra outpost. You’d be in disguise, you had aliases if needed, and you’d be working together. Thankfully, it was not a social gathering you’d be attending. While both you and Tony would probably be good at working people to get information you needed, Tony would be TERRIBLE at not starting to flirt with targets and it’d be difficult to keep from revealing who he was. 

You figured it’d be alright. Tony wasn’t terrible, you liked his company and he was often good at his job. It should be fine. 

— — — 

“How hard d’you think it’ll be to break into the database?” Tony whispered to you as you picked the lock of the door to a van. 

“Shh!” you pressed a finger to his lips for a brief second before you finished picking the lock. He grinned. Once you got the door open, he jumped up into the van and reached his hand out for you, and pulled you up.You closed the van doors behind you, and he got over to the computers.

You locked up the van doors so that no one could get in. 

“Did you see that girl over by the columns earlier?”

“Keep it in your pants, Stark.”

Tony smirked. “Got it,” he said, and he began uploading the files to a hard drive. 

“What’s the backup plan if our exit doesn’t work?” you asked. 

“It’ll work, I checked it before we got in here,” Tony assured. He pulled out the hard drive and handed it to you. You slid it into your secret pocket and zippered it up. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” you unlocked the van doors and carefully got out. He jumped down, and you saw your exit road. It was blocked by five security cars. “Shit,” you whispered. 

“Such obscene words from such a pristine girl,” Tony teased.

“Ugh, save the Breakfast Club references for when I can actually care, okay?” you said. “We gotta get out of here.”

“I got it,” Tony assured. “C’mon.”

Tony pulled you with him to a nearby fancy sports car. “No, no, no, no,” you whispered as he hot wired the car, pulled you into it, and started driving away. 

“We’ll return it,” Tony shrugged, and pulled out of the lot and started driving at 55 miles per hour. 

“Tony! This is a 30 mph zone and you’re in a goddamn STOLEN CAR!” You shouted at him. 

“I can’t concentrate when you’re yelling at me!” Tony exclaimed back. He pressed the gas a little more and kept driving away. 

“Tony, this is a bad idea,” you warned. “We’re gonna get pulled over. Or Hydra’s gonna get us.” 

“It’s fine, I’m a good driver,” Tony assured. He patted your side that had your secret pocket. “You got the hard drive?” 

“Yeah, I’ve got it, but I’m not gonna anymore if we get pulled over!” 

Tony picked up the speed a little bit after rounding a turn, pushing 70 now. 

“TONY! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SLOW DOWN!”

“Shhh! It’s fine!”

“IT’S A STOLEN VEHICLE!”

“Ohhhh shit, there’s a cop.”

“Slow it down! Tony!”

Tony slowed down the speed and pulled the car over, parking it on the side of the road. You looked really worried and angry. 

Tony smiled at you. “Y’know, you’re kind of hot when you’re mad.”

You glared at him. 

The cop approached the vehicle. “Excuse me, sir, you were going 73 mph in a 30 mph zone.” 

“Yes, about that, uh, she’s having an emergency, so I’m gonna take her to the hospital,” Tony smiled charmingly at the officer.

The cop chuckled. “Seems the only problem she’s having is you, she looks maaaaad.”

Tony laughed awkwardly. 

“Look, I get it, my girl gets mad at me when I do something she doesn’t like,” the cop said. “But you are driving a local official’s stolen car and you were speeding excessively, so I gotta take the both of you.”

“I’m not his girl,” you interjected. 

“Woah, okay. Got it. Anyway, both of y’all gotta get out of the car, I gotta take you in,” the cop informed. 

Tony sighed. “Great.”

— — — 

“Are you really such a goody-two-shoes that you’re gonna get all bent out of shape that you’ve got a criminal record now?” Tony asked. “Everybody’s got one. No one gives a damn.”

“I don’t care about that, I care about the fact that they could’ve taken the hard-drive from me,” you said. “I’ve got it only ‘cause it’s hidden in my jacket. And they think they searched my jacket.” You sighed. “No way Fury’s gonna trust either of us anymore.” 

“Look, it’s gonna be fine,” Tony assured. “You’re smart, and Fury likes you. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s gonna come and bail us out, explain what happened, it’s all gonna be okay. Chill out.” 

You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapped your arms around your legs, and rested your chin on top of your knees. The cell floor was gray and rock hard, scuffed and cold. You just wanted to go home. Couldn’t one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents get here sooner? 

“Jeez, why do you look so sad?” Tony asked, sitting down next to you. 

“I’m just tired.”

“Okay.”

“...”

“Look, I’m sorry.”

You turned your head to look at him. Apologies? From Tony? That never happened. He chuckled at the surprised look on your face. 

“If you tell anyone I said that, I’m denying everything,” Tony informed. You laughed. That was more like Tony. He smiled. “But I am sorry.”

“It’s alright.” 

“I’m glad you’ve got the hard drive.”

“Yeah, me too.”

— — —

Not much longer later, a warden with white hair and classes with a nametag that read “STAN” on it came over and unlocked your jail cell door. “Some man with an eyepatch came and bailed you out. You kids are damn lucky, ya hear?” He gestured for you both to step out, and then he walked you down the hallway to meet Nick Fury at the desk at the front. 

“Both of you are coming home with me. Right now,” Nick said sternly. You nodded in agreement, having both no desire to fight him and exhaustion. Tony didn’t signal that he agreed or disagreed, he just followed Nick a little forlornly. 

Once you were both sitting in the back of Nick’s limousine—Nick sat with you because he had a driver—Nick demanded, “What the hell happened?”

You opened up your secret jacket pocket and handed him the hard drive. “We got the hard drive. But our exit was compromised.”

“So I hotwired a sports car and then it turns out it was a local official’s car,” Tony continued. 

“He was being stupid and he was speeding 73 mph in a 30 zone,” you added on. 

“We got pulled over by a cop who took us in and then she got all tired and sad while we were sitting in the cell,” Tony said. 

“I was just tired, not sad,” you clarified. “He apologized to me for speeding the car, stealing it, and getting us arrested.”

“I did not apologize.”

“He won’t admit it because he’s got an ego, but he did say sorry.”

“Do you want me to take it back?”

“Ha! See? You admit it.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Okay, stop,” Nick interjected. “Alright. You got the information. It wasn’t the stealthiest or slickest way, but you did do it. We’ll get you home, and you’ll get some rest. In the meantime, we’re gonna hold off on sending you on missions by yourselves for a little bit.”

You sighed and nodded, not fighting it. You were tired, and it was probably for the better, anyway. Tony laughed. “Yeah, no. She didn’t do anything.”

“I just think that it’s in the best interest of both of you to have a supervisor for the next couple of missions you go on,” Nick reiterated. 

“But I’m the one who hotwired the car and went speeding to get away in it,” Tony argued. 

“Are you trying to get yourself punished further??” Nick asked. “I’m being very civil with you right now. If you want a worse punishment, I can certainly think of one.”

“No, just, why are you punishing her?” 

“Tony, it’s fine,” you said. “It’s probably for the better, anyway. I got things to learn.”

“But you didn’t do anything wrong, you just accidentally got into jail ‘cause you were in the car with me,” Tony argued.

“I’m not changing my answer, but it’s certainly interesting that you’re so insistent about this,” Nick replied calmly. Tony gave him a confused-annoyed look. Nick chuckled, and you leaned back into your seat, tired. 

— — —

When you got home, you took a hot shower and put on your pajamas. As you walked back to your bedroom, you found Tony sitting by himself in the living room. “Hey,” he said and stood up. “C’mere,” he held open his arms. You walked into them and let him hug you. He was soft and warm. His apology from earlier still hung in the air, floating like a cloud over your head. And you couldn’t really help but forgive him. Damn that Tony Stark. One look at the boy, and you know you’re screwed. 

[actuallysaiyan]

Now I Know You're Mine(Shikamaru Nara x Fem!Reader x Kiba Inuzuka)

warnings: smut, lewd themes, biting, unprotected sex, oral sex(fem and male receiving), polycule dynamics, threesomes, territorial behaviour, post Ninja war timeline, slight cumplay pairings: Shikamaru Nara x Fem!Reader x Kiba Inuzuka summary: just some HCs to describe your budding polycule! a/n: dividers by @adornedwithlight. also it's been a hot minute since I wrote for either one of these characters, so I'm sorry if it's OOC.

It all started after the war. The two of them saw you in a bar one night, drinking away your sorrows. They never really had been too close, but they just happened to be in that same bar as you.

Kiba approached you first, being a bit more confident in terms of romance. He flirts with you right away, making you blush and smile a lot. His jokes are corny, but they are funny.

Shikamaru is next. When Kiba goes to the bathroom, Shika joins you at your table with a new drink for you. You two begin to talk and you find yourself very attracted to him.

Kiba doesn’t even seem that jealous or dejected when he comes back. He sits with you and Shikamaru, talking to you both about all kinds of stuff. The two of them fall into a rhythm of taking their turn addressing you.

And by the end of the night, you’re dancing with both of them. You love the way Kiba is so touchy-feely and you adore how Shikamaru actually takes control of the situation. Both of them surprise you.

This begins the polycule you’re in. Everyone’s comfortable with one another and nobody walks on each other’s toes. You’re the object of their desire and they make it known in different ways.

KIBA

He’s all fun and games. He makes you laugh a lot. He enjoys seeing your smile. Especially when he’s just made you cum so hard over and over.

It’s sort of his thing. He enjoys making you cum a lot. You’re always a little dazed when you leave his place or he leaves yours. It makes Kiba feel good to have you so fucked out that you can’t do anything but have a nap.

He’s the type to give you flowers he picked off the side of the road. He will treat you to ramen and a walk around the village at night with Akamaru at your side. Kiba is an easygoing type of guy and it shows.

Not that he doesn’t plan romantic things. He’s just more laid back in this sense. He’s not trying to outshine anyone, really. Even with Shikamaru involved, Kiba still understands that you like him a lot.

The type of guy to obviously place his scent on you. Shikamaru knows that this isn’t a threat to him, but rather a warning to any other man. Kiba gives you his hoodies to sleep in, rubs himself up against you whenever you’re around and of course…he leaves love bites all over to claim you.

Speaking of claiming you, he will always spill his cum deep inside of you. In his mind, this is the ultimate act of making sure you know you belong to him(and to Shika too). It’s so sexy to watch his cum drip from your pussy.

Enjoys having quiet time with you. He will invite you over to play video games. Watch some movies with him and he’ll be so happy. Breakfast in bed and snuggles for hours until it’s late in the day and you roll out of bed during the afternoon.

Kiba is honestly so enamored by you. You just make his life so much better. And to be fair, his sister is now asking him less about when he’s going to get married and settle down. He just…needs to explain to her how it’s a polycule!

SHIKAMARU

He’s calculated. He won your heart with his logic and intelligence. But sometimes that does make Shika a little awkward when it comes to love and romance. He just doesn’t always know what to say to you.

He enjoys showing you he loves you through his physical actions as well. He’s very good at making you come undone. He knows where to touch you to have you melting. It’s so easy for him since he’s mapped out your erogenous zones.

He’s a bit of a Dom sometimes, but not always. Sometimes his laziness kicks in and he just wants you to ride him. He wants to have you on top and just make you both feel so good.

Shikamaru plans out dates. He likes to surprise you with fun things to do. He invites Kiba a lot of the time too so that all three of you can hang out. Shikamaru isn’t super jealous but he does wish he could flirt with you more.

Enjoys taking you to romantic places. Definitely wants to walk around in the forest near his clan’s home, but sometimes he thinks about what is buried there and he’s not always going to take you there. Shikamaru wants to spend his alone time with you completely alone.

He uses his Shadow jutsu on you. Whenever you’re being a brat, he’ll use it as a warning. If you continue, he’s going to make sure you understand who’s really in charge here. He’ll fuck your face sloppily when he finally gets you alone. His balls slapping against your chin, your hands behind your back…you’ll learn your lesson.

He also loves lazy days in bed! You can definitely get used to being a late sleeper with Kiba and Shikamaru as your lovers. Shikamaru is also down for quickies and then a good afternoon lap.

He’s going to be overly sappy sometimes. He knows that a shinobi’s life isn’t always long, so he loves to let you know just how much he adores you and how much you mean to him. He may even make it permanent with you and Kiba.

TOGETHER

You and Shikamaru enjoy smoking on nights out together. Kiba will just hang out with the two of you, Akamaru usually in tow. 

Kiba will buy you a collar and then Shikamaru is the type to get a leash for that very collar. It’s just fun for the two of them to gang up on you sometimes.

Lots of cuddle sessions. Movie date nights at home with the two of them snuggling so close to you. Kisses on your cheek, neck, anywhere they can reach.

You have some of Kiba’s and Shikamaru’s clothes from hanging out with them so often and getting into a long sex session. Sometimes you lose your clothes so you just pull on something of theirs.

They are super territorial of you. Especially Kiba who’s not afraid to bite your neck in front of anyone he deems a rival. You belong to him and Shikamaru and that’s not up for debate.

They shower you in affection and gifts. Kiba likes to make you gifts and Shikamaru finds thoughtful things in the store for you. But you can expect all kinds of gifts from the two of them.

Kiba lasts less long than Shikamaru, but he also has a shorter refractory period. Both of them are obsessed with licking your pussy, so you can most definitely expect them to be between your thighs often.

They love you to death! They’d do anything for you. It all happened so fast when you three got together, but it’s a match made in heaven and none of you would change a thing about your relationship.

taglist: @cherryblossombankai @misty-angerose @adharadotcom

@isabelzoldyck, @felixmr, @entirelysein-e, @animediplomat,

@shycoconutt,  @kiiwiipie, @aervera,

@erebus-et-eigengrau @pixelcafe-network

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2025– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[eldritch-spouse]

How would the other clergymen receive to cumming instantly for their obsession like in that ask with the icons? I imagine nebul would hate it. Patches wouldn’t notice for a bit lol

[Continuing from this ask, minus Santi.]

Morell struggles to understand. That didn't just happen. That's never happened, not since his first. As embarrassed as he is, he knows he can't give you too much time to think about it, so he overwhelms you with his fingers as best as he can. Morell is touchy about this and will keep ceaselessly trying to find a workaround. It's just no fun if, the second he's in you, it's over. Tease him and he may become unpredictable.

Gallon, entirely not predicting this, has a frozen moment where he simply processes his own orgasm. While he won't outright react to teasing now, he'll use several tendrils to make you orgasm into exhaustion, silently wondering why this took place. The experience was ruined, for his pride at least, and he'll show less interest in penetrative sex when he determines this is a pattern, scheming ways to fix the problem.

Patches does, absolutely, not notice it at first. He figures the next time he'll last a bit more. But he doesn't. Ever. It's as mildly horrifying as it is predictable. He knows it's a problem when Stitches suffers from it too, out of nowhere, and turns to the world of magic to find if he can either extend his endurance artificially, or negate any anomalous properties you might have. This can result in him never again being a minute man.

Grimbly honestly tears up from shame. This is gross and weird and it wasn't meant to end like that. Comforting him through it is appreciated, but the more this happens, the more Grimbly thinks there's something wrong with him. He wants to fuck you! He doesn't want to be pegged or penetrated by toys all the time!! He'll even resort to condoms to make things last longer. He never thought this would eat at him as much as it does.

Vinnel just sighs. Figures his sickness would ruin his sexual performance as well. Having days where his genitals simply refuse to work is one thing, now he's cumming in seconds? Fortunately, he can pull a switcheroo and keep fucking you with an approximation, but his own frustration might translate into sadism dealt onto you. Whatever.

Belo, well, he figures the first time this happens it's normal? There's suspicion it's not. You might need to have a talk with him. Ultimately, he's conflicted. On the one hand, this must mean you're very compatible, right? You resonate with him! On the other, he's aware he should offer his Lady/charge a more worthwhile experience of love in its' physical form. Could... Could he consult Krulu about this?

Nebul is eating this memory. No way you're keeping that. Penetration is off the table until he can find a workaround. He would rather not fuck you at all than orgasm in seconds. You will not have power here, not even power you're unaware of.

Sybastian grunted some kind of incomprehensible curse and looked as if something was deeply wrong with his body. Although he tries to stroke himself back to hardness, something he's regularly achieved, it might be fruitless. Sybastian doesn't quite know what to do with himself and fears that you now see him as subpar and laughable. He will seek reassurance subtly, also trying desperately to find ways to prolong his performance.

Fank-e has no idea how you achieved this?? This isn't supposed to be possible? He can go for hours if he feels like it, then you come along and he orgasms so hard that he nearly has to shut down. Very funny. Instead of feeling threatened by this, Fank-e resorts to his other incredibly effective means of making you orgasm, and later forcibly modifies all his genital attachments to a very diminished sensitivity. It took several tries to find a good balance.

Krulu has to resist the urge to pry your body open and inspect what caused this. His first idea is that the feedback response from your part was simply too intense. Irregardless, he's rattled that this didn't go according to how he wants it to, but his refractory period isn't notable to you, so he spends the time in-between isolating and nullifying the trait that makes your partners unable to perform. The trait is not erased, particularly because he thinks he can weaponize it. You know better than to tease him for that first encounter, hopefully. Silently savor the win of making a siadar bust immediately, if you're smart.