#so yeah the only reason i don't feel like i lost hours to all that work i put in a mediocre gif is bc technically i'll be paid for it

[howly]

i'm trying (read: re-learning almost from scratch) to make gifs for the first time in over a decade and good god, tumblr creators are doing that shit for free? WILD

[kenyummy]

✰ 05. the ballad of a bygone blight.

✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱

✰ 05. your closed-off heart.

SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.

note: avoidant attachment damian is canon to me okay. it's canon to me... </3 also pretty long chap idk how many words but it's a bunch

prev. ✰ masterlist ✰ next.

The sky has fallen to an ashen black by the time you've all settled down and watched a fun game show together; so different from the ones back home.

After those hours of catching up—you've made sure to be careful with your words and not mention anything about any alternate universes. You can't—not with that lingering stare behind you, after all.

Whether they realised your avoidance of the topic or simply didn't think to bring it up—you were glad the rest of your friends never even hinted at it once, either.

Now you were back, sitting on the couch under a low, flickering light and cuddled up beside Johnny and Franklin.

"Franklin..." Your voice is low. Said boy is cooped up to your side, snoring softly as he drools onto you. You avert your gaze toward Sue and Reed. "How's his... mutation going? It's pretty rough being so strong so young."

Johnny glowers at the sight of Franklin so attached to your left arm—even though he's just as close, if not closer to you than his nephew is. If he were sunken any farther into you, he'd practically be in your lap.

Sue sighs, pressing her palm against her face with an exasperated look. "After that whole incident with Annihilus, his power has been developing so drastically, we aren't sure on what may occur next. He's so... he is so strong. We asked the Professor about it, and his only advice was for when we believe we cannot properly help him develop, to send him to his school."

Reed slinks his hand into his wives', gripping tightly. "But I don't think it'll come to that. Franklin... is a good kid. I don't believe he will ever lost control of himself, not like the Professor is afraid he will. Regardless—he's doing fine, and that was the reason we took him with us."

The mood is sunken, a little bit quieter as you rake your nails over Frankin' scalp—gently. Such a power so young—you remember the first time you were told this young boy was creating pocket universes under his bed at three. Two years later, and he's developed the abilities comparable to that of a god.

To be so incredible is a blessing—but for a child like Franklin, it can feel like a curse often times. You would know, you think solemnly, palm falling over his cheek.

Ben sinks into the dented couch, leaning back with a knee crossed over his leg. He breaks the silence with ease and that lovely Yancy Street accent, "That, and we didn't wanna let Tony babysit again."

"Oh yeah," Johnny grimaces. "Last time he was left alone with Frankie, he made him a suit and he flew all the way to the Carribean!"

You slap a hand over your mouth, turning to Johnny and laughing, "I heard about that! Didn't you nearly get sunk by Namor and his Atlanteans?"

Johnny hisses and looks to the side—the tips of his ears alighting with a flicker. You reach up and pat out the flame, brushing his hair back as he hides his face from your view.

Judging by the smug, knowing look Sue shoots her younger brother, you assume he was pretty annoyed by your pampering.

Despite this, the mood has become lighter. You aren't worried about what may happen in the future, or what could possibly go wrong with the young child beside you.

"Don't even mention him, or any bad guy—" Johnny slumps down, head reeking back dramatically. "I'm going stir-crazy not being able to get out and fight 'em."

Ben gives him a pointed look, "brows" furrowing, "Yer sounding less stir-crazy and more batshit mental. Ya gotta get out more."

"Tell that to him!" The blonde juts his thumb towards Reed, who simply averts his eyes. "He's the one who said we can't be seen in this unknown place."

"Yeah, it's a shame, isn't it?" You cross your arms. "While you're all resting here, I have to go out and fight crime all day. Lucky me."

Johnny raises his hands in defence, "Yeah, you are lucky. I'd kill to get out and get some action. I'm tired of being cooped up in here all day like the world doesn't need me."

"Don't go getting a big head, Johnny." Sue frowns. "This world has survived fine without you. I'm sure it'll live even without you, as well."

Johnny and Sue start to bicker in the traditional sibling fashion—shooting the other glares and mocks, all the while Reed seems to be deep in thought. (And as always, Ben is simply enjoying the scene in front of him).

"Actually..." Reed speaks up—catching the attention of everybody in the room with ease. "Perhaps... it could be a good thing to go public. It would give us an easy way to collect materials we need if we could go out and use our powers freely."

"... Reed? You can't be serious—" Sue blinks in shock.

Ben slams his two rocky fists together, "Hell yeah! It's been a minute since I said my favourite line—"

"—It's clobberin' time, we know." Johnny shakes his head. Ben simply shoots the matchstick a glare.

"That aside; it'll help us make that..." Reed hums, glancing at you for a moment, "That very intricate device we'd been needing to create. The last one was created by the combined nature of me, Tony, and Hank—so making it alone may provide more difficult, but absolutely not impossible. Not much tech to work with, either... this might take a while..."

Sue places a hand on her husbands shoulder, and he seems to break out of the strange mumble he reduced his voice to. "Thank you, Susan. But yes—given we collect the right resources and I have time to work on this, we should be able to remake it."

"That's great!" You smile, grin brightening. You could go home! You could actually go home! Not sure when—but soon couldn't come soon enough. "You guys can fight alongside me, and now this! This is great news!"

"Eh ... I already told you Reed was making some of that crazy tech stuff, didn't I?" Johnny shrugs, resting his head to the side. "Besides—It's Reed. Why wouldn't be tinkering with some weird invention?"

"... Thank you for the vote of confidence, Johnny." Reed murmurs, eyes falling to the side. "If we want to make something as intricate as... that, from scratch, we'll definitely need the most brilliant minds helping."

"Ah... yeah. Too bad Tony isn't here, huh? Hank, too. They'd be a real help." You smile sadly, looking to the side.

"Actually, [name], I'd rather like you to look over some of the teleporters with me. Give your opinion on what I should do with what I have."

"R... really?" You look up at him with sparkly eyes. "You really...?"

He nods, smiling. You bite down on the insides of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning madly—instead, you opt to rushing over and wrapping your arms around his neck, jumping up and down.

"Thank you! Yeah, I'd be—" You pull back, coughing with a flushed face. "I'd be totally honoured. Yeah. Um—I promise to not get any webs on them this time!"

"I'll take your word for it," Reed chuckles. Happiness practically bursts out of your chest at the recognition from the smartest man in the world.

Perhaps you were more than you gave yourself credit for—and way more than what that family gave you credit for.

You sit back down and Franklin crawls back into your lap, snoring softly. Johnny attaches himself to your side and keeps a warm arm snug around your shoulder, smiling down at you.

The warm fuzzy feeling pools down at the bottom of your stomach and each time you laugh, you feel your heart grow fonder.

You had never felt so at home in this strange place. These four—these five—this was your family, and you'd never feel otherwise.

Damien feels a tug in his chest. More than a tug, actually—it's like a rope has tied a noose around his ribs and is rattling them repeatedly.

He's biting down so hard on his lips and the inside of your cheek that blood seeps from between chapped lips. He chews them raw—not even noticing the pain.

He hadn't even realised when he pulled his katana out from its holster on his back. He hadn't realised when he gripped it so taut his knuckles turned a milky white. He hadn't even realised when his eyes zeroed in on the sight of you cuddling up with that dark-haired boy.

Allowing him close to you—clinging to your arm so pathetically and pressing his face against your stomach as if he'd done it a hundred times over and acting like you're his older sibling or something stupid like that—

Damian steadies his erratic breathing. Unscrunching his face, but he cannot seem to stop glaring daggers. Even when he makes eye contact with that man—Reed, he believes you referred to him as—he does not tear his sharp gaze away.

You stare so tenderly at the young boy (younger than Damian is. By a few years or so, most likely). You cradle his cheek in your hand with such love it makes your actual brother, your blood brother, feel sick to his stomach.

Raking your fingers through his hair like you'd never done with your siblings before. Holding him close like you wished to protect him from the world and all the horrors within it.

How could you possibly hope to protect this... Frankie, when you cannot even protect yourself? The scarring left from the bullet still lay on your shoulder, a ghostly reminder of how you became victim to the evil this city holds.

A reminder to Damian on how he must protect you now. As his duty.

In this cruel world, you have lost to it—and yet, you choose to coddle others? You choose to keep others safe and close to your heart, but never your family?

His heart is lit aflame with rage. His jaw is taut and clenched tightly—feeling his teeth grit beneath his tongue and his mind fizzle with boiling anger. He hadn't felt this irrational in so long. Not until...

He doesn't remember ever seeing you in a such a light. He doesn't remember seeing you.

But now he does—and now, he feels so much fuming ferocity. Watching you send the softest of smiles to him and allowing him to feel your soft, untainted touch.

(A touch not tainted by years of relentless crime fighting—a silky grasp that could only be given by that kind of regularity Damian had never known).

Much earlier, he had realised you were that vigilante he met so long ago. That spider-like fiend who seemed to have those never-endingly sticky webs.

This is why you'd been skipping classes so often, and why he never saw you around. That's why he hadn't seen those pitiful eyes be directed toward his two, barely there elder brothers, after each and every violent patrol.

That is why you have become so distant. So far away—Drake had described it. Damian didn't bother to listen because he didn't care enough to.

That doesn't matter. In the end, none of it matters. Not to him. It didn't change his image of you.

He hadn't known you long enough for it to shift in any way—nor had he ever tried to. Despite this, he is content. If this new version of you is all he will ever know, then so be it. This will be his you—the sincerity in your touch and the love in your eyes.

(Yet, never seen toward him).

He has little time to ponder and brood. Before he knows it—the glass door is sliding open and, on that balcony, he is no longer alone.

You hesitate for a moment before speaking. "Damian?"

He blinks. He is not used to hearing his name from your mouth in anything but a furious tone. Yet, despite this—it is anything bur the saccharine way you told that Franklin he's your favourite—

"Damian. Why did you follow me?" You demand, voice more firm than your question-like tone before.

You stand before him, arms crossed under your chest and a hard expression on your face. Stern. Like a real older sibling. He had never seen you make that kind of face before.

(For whatever odd reason, he feels small again. Like lowering his head and apologising for something he had not even done—you've never had that sort of effect before).

... And yet, despite all he's acted like in the past; in this present moment, he doesn't know what to say to you. Very uncharacteristical.

(For that Franklin, it came so easy. Like running up to you with those stupid googly eyes was the most regular thing to him. Damian doesn't believe he will ever be able to feel as normal as that).

Fortunately, he manages to scrounge up some words to say like it was a board game. "I... happened to catch you swinging here. In that ridiculous costume and to your even more ridiculous friends."

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his words. He notices it so wholly that it strikes deep into his chest. Why are you so dissatisfied with him? Why does it make him so unfathomably upset?

"One, my costume is cool. Two, my friends aren't ridiculous. Don't talk about them like that." Your tone is upset.

All these strong emotions hit him like a freight train and suddenly he doesn't know how to speak properly. Don't look at him like that. Why are you so kind to that other child, but you are so cruel toward him? It's unfair. Absolutely unfair.

He must've been quiet longer than he realised. Clutching the bottom of his cape tight into his blood-bathed grip, practically shaking. He must look so utterly pathetic for you to offer him menial pity.

(Just like you used to—except now it feels like a wave crashing against the shore, covering the burning lava stones in a cool tide).

"So, you know, then?" You glance downward at Damian after pinching your temple. He breaks his eye contact with the concrete and looks back to you. "That I'm that spider hero."

...

"Yes. After seeing your school bag webbed up, it was far too obvious."

You glance downwards once more. To the strap wrapped around his shoulder, connected to your bag. He tries to shuffle it discreetly behind him, but he knows you've spotted it when a smile crawls onto your lips.

Gritting his teeth—yet this time he does not feel that same blaring anger as before—he decides that hiding it was useless and opts to shove it into your arms roughly, before he can even think.

"The leather is crumpled. You need a new bag," He says, matter-of-factly. You grasp onto the leather with wide eyes; gaze shifting from it to him.

"... I know. It's been like this..." You aren't exactly sure on how long, exactly—but you're sure it's been... "For a while. I'm used to it."

Damian pauses, eyes narrowed and lips turned down into a sneer. He's practically offering, and yet you still deny? You pretend everything is fine and you are strong.

...

You lean down the slightest. "... Still. Thanks for considering me."

You almost can't believe you're thanking this younger brother for the bare minimum—but from what you've seen, that bare minimum isn't seen much in your household. (Especially towards you).

Despite this... you have always had a soft spot for kids. You ruffle his dark hair and he practically squawks, slapping your hands away like it burnt.

He recoils back, hissing, "Who do you think you are?! Don't patronise me!"

You chuckle and move back, brushing off your hands. He watches that action like a hawk. "... Are you going to tell them?"

"TT. About your little side hobby playing dress up?"

You want to point out how he does the exact same thing. But you don't, because you know it will lead to nothing good.

Damian sneers, turning his head to the side, "I don't care for what you do in your spare time. As long as I do not have to be there to save you every time."

"Fair enough. This can be our little secret, then." You nod. "... You can go now. I'm just going to suit up and sneak back in."

"Is that what you have been doing for the past several weeks?"

"Guilty as charged," you shrug, pressing on the necklace pendant sitting comfortably between your collarbones. "If nobody notices, then I don't think it's that big of a deal. I mean—"

He watches in fascination as the minuscule robots crawl over your body and form into the familiar Spidey suit.

You tuck your hair in as the mask forms. "—Most of them are barely home to begin with, and it's not like Bruce has spare time to be worrying about this."

... "Don't you mean father?"

You stare at him weird. "What?"

"You called father Bruce." His eyes narrow furthur.

"Oh. Right." You must've become accustomed to not saying father. Uncle Ben was the only father you'd ever had, and it wasn't like you were going around calling him that, since you know—he was your uncle. "Yeah. That's what I meant."

Damien doesn't reply this time. He throws on the hood of his costume, turning his back toward your costumed form.

You walk back inside into the dimly-lit room, engulfing those people in warm hugs you'd never spared any of them before.

He leaps off the roof and swings away into the night, face unreadable; mind consumed with little crime and more thoughts of you.

Perhaps he was... wrong about you. Less helpless, but still just as weak. And a lot more confusing. Unfair. So much confliction.

Though, he feels his chest beat strangely warm when he tousles his hair back to its regular style.

Swinging in through the window in your room and with one click on your necklace, you land flat on your heels.

Peering around, you hum at your empty, dark room and change into a pair of pyjamas.

It's been a day or two since you'd eaten here. Usually you'd go around as Spidey and picking up some takeout as you swing back home, or go to Harry's house for some dinner (since Norman had taken a strong, un-evil liking to you in this world).

But today, you'd been too wrapped up to even think about dinner. You'd missed the familiarity of Sue's warm cooking but you hadn't even thought to ask while you were there. Damn.

It's way too late to go out and get something now. Crap. You really got ahead of yourself, didn't you?

You put on your pair of fuzzy slippers, and swing open your door. It's late, so most of them should be out on patrol.

You'll probably only run into Alfred, at best. You can live with those kinds of odds.

You walk down the stairway and towards the kitchen (it took you a bit—learning the ropes of this place was harder than it looked). Your steps sluggishly drawl across the floor as you yawn.

Being Spidey sure was tiring. Post-patrol naps were always the highlight of your week, but you could never do it on an empty stomach.

As quietly as possible, you begin to rummage around in the larger-than-life fridge. Fruit, condiments, almost all ingredients than actual food.

You groan. You hate rich people. Aunt May always used to just buy a bunch of pre-cooked meals whenever she was away—you'd become so accustomed to it.

Maybe there were leftovers? ... Do rich people even keep leftovers? You slouch down at the thought.

You open a few drawers just to find a pile of spinach of all things. Then fruity flavoured drinks. Some more vegetables. Lots of vegetables. A child's waking nightmare.

"There's a pack of pizza pockets in the third drawer in the second row."

You barely even react, hand already inching for the drawer. You open it, and find it. You hum.

Your sense acts up when you hear footsteps approaching—you glance over your shoulder to see a man you have not previously met before, but have seen.

That blob of red—that figure you saw before everything went black and when a bullet was lodged in your shoulder. It was him.

A white tuft of hair in the middle of his forehead and a jaded expression. A red helmet under his arm and a pizza pocket in the other hand.

It was undoubtedly him.

"Jason..." You try your hardest to not make it sound like a question.

His expression remains unchanged. "[name]. You... your shoulder is all healed up already."

You glance at your exposed shoulder. There is barely any visibly sign of a wound ever being there. Perks to a healing factor—well, you heal. Downsides to a healing factor—people start asking questions.

"It didn't hit me too deep... and Bruce got me the best hospital stuff, too." You put the pizza pockets on a plate then stuff it into the microwave. The beep resounds in the quiet as you lean back on the counter. "Guess I got lucky."

"Didn't feel so lucky when you were bleeding out in my arms, did you?" His eyes narrow and you think you may have said the wrong thing. "What the hell were you even doing out at that hour? What the fuck were you thinking?"

Oh, I was just dropped in from another universe and switched places with Wayne-ie here. No biggie.

Yeah, no way in any of the layers in hell. Facing Galactus head on feels like a safer task than telling him that. You shake your head, trying to formulate a proper excuse.

"I was hanging out with my friends. Lost track of time."

His eyes widen at your sheer audacity to say that—then, his brows furrow and he steps forward, "Don't give me that shit. You never go out past ten. Bruce won't let you. We drilled it into your head you'd die out there. And look—you nearly did. Don't you dare sit here and lie to me, [name], because I swear to God—"

Your jaw clenches and you have to hold your hands behind your body—pressed against hard granite—to stop yourself from pushing him back.

You hiss, low and tense, "What do you know? You'd never stay long enough to find out."

You remember flipping through that diary. The words getting scratchier and the paper getting more crumpled as you went on.

"You'd never stayed longer than a few days. You'd never even looked at me even then."

As you became older, you became hateful.

"You could see Dick. You could hate Tim. And despite everything, you could bring yourself to like him. You even tolerated Damian."

But you also became sad. Increasingly so. So miserable, trapped in that newborn skin you'd never truly seemed to break out of.

"I didn't care that you killed people. I didn't care that you never stayed for long. I didn't care that you hated Bruce."

So lost, so desperate for that touch you'd received so long ago; you never really grown up, had you?

"I didn't care that you'd never stay for him. For Dick. For any of the others."

So bitter. It's no wonder you'd never talked to them. It's no wonder—

"But damn it, Jason—"

"I really thought that you could've stayed for me."

—that he's staring at you in such horror.

None of this came from your heart. This entire speech was scripted on a piece of paper—by a version of you who felt so much pain and hate for those who abandoned you so easily.

But... looking at his expression now—you think it's something he needed to hear. Something that couldn't be left unsaid any longer. All the feelings pent up in them (in you, one could say) and the words they were to afraid to speak aloud. The words you were not afraid to say.

His lips parted, eyes wide as he doesn't reply. How can he? What could he ever, possibly say?

That he was doing this for your own good? That he never wanted you to see the man he had become? To never want to sully that image of that older brother who played tag with you when you were younger?

How does he tell you about the bullet he put through the skull of the Penguin goons with smoking guns he'd found minutes after he saw you bleeding out in a dirty alleyway? He couldn't possibly tell you about that.

How could he ever tell you that this was all for you—when you were hurting so badly?

(Hurting without him? Had you missed him all these years, so terribly? The thought brings some sort of twisted satisfaction. Sick reassurance. That, despite everything, you still loved him).

How could Jason Todd ever show you that he cares without destroying everything he was before? The answer was simple to him—he can't. He thought you knew. He thought—

...

Now, everything doesn't feel so simple. His sunken eyes search all over your face in frantic motions. Your eyes are so blank, and you don't even look to be feeling anything.

Are you tired? Of this? Of him? Just what did that bullet do to you?

The beeping of the microwave catches both of your attention before he has a chance to say something he will likely regret.

You turn your head to the side, and slip away from where he had cornered you against the granite. "Pizza pocket's done."

You glance his way, and he feels pathetic. Absolutley, spectacularly pathetic. "... Want some?"

You sit in incredibly uncomfortable silence, chewing on the food. At least it was good. Familiar.

Clearly there was a lot to discuss between the both of you. ... Jason and this other you, at least.

(Or was it you, the one who was shot? You could never truly tell).

There's so much to say, so little time. Jason could never stay, and definitely not around you. All these years—this world's you thought he hated them. Despised them.

Now, his expression feels like the complete opposite. Longing.

You shove the rest of the pizza pocket into your mouth, wiping off the stray greasy cheese off the corners of your lips.

"I meant what I said earlier." You clarify, as if he needed it. "And I don't appreciate you only getting on my ass after all this time, only when something bad happens. You don't get to do that. That's not how this works."

You gesture between the two of you and his heart feels like its been stabbed with the sharpest of knives.

Then, it twists.

You were always his favourite. The sweetest. The little kid he'd once held so dearly and near his heart. Until that heart stopped and turned into the deepest black, poisoned and compromised.

How could he ever risk poisoning you, too?

He wanted to keep you safe, and somewhere, somehow—he came to the conclusion that the only way you'd br safe is if you were away from him. Kept at a distance. Staying at arm's length.

Now, he isn't sure he was ever thinking of how safe you'd be. Not when he'd seen you, light-headed and bleeding. Not when you were practically dying in his arms and he couldn't do shit except kill those stupid fucking goons; because what is he good for if not revenge?

"I miss the old days," you say. But there's a distinct lack of emotion in your voice. As if it wasn't even you who was saying this. "But to hang onto them forever—when will we ever move on?"

...

He doesn't know. He doesn't think he can. Those are the only memories he has of you. Of himself.

Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, suddenly feeling his heart pound and stomach feeling sick. This sort of uncanny, soul-consuming feeling—it only ever happened whenever he would look at you.

Eyes blurry and vision failing him, he wants to go. To run. But at the same time, he wants to keep you close. Make sure nothing will ever happen again. Make sure you never feel that pain again.

His head is going to split. He doesn't know what to do.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His hands sink into his hair, and his jaw is clenched impossibly tight.

"I just..." His voice is quieter than he wanted it to be. Shakier. Almost timid. He feels like a boy again. That same child you'd stare at so reverently. He doesn't know when he was beginning to forget that. "I just wanted to keep you safe. That's all I ever wanted."

You're almost tired of this. Pissed off. Is that all they say? Is that really all they say to tell you why they'd kept you so far away? The distance was all-consuming. You'd noticed it in the first week you lived here. You couldn't even begin to imagine that kind of "love" all your life.

"Then, you were doing it all wrong." You say, simply. It sounds like you know. Like you have experience. Like a wise old wizard who'd "seen it all before". "I'm not incapable (truly, you are not) and my life is my own. Keeping me safe isn't trying to keep everything the same, like it is as it was."

He lifts his head from his hands when your chair pushes behind you, screeching across wooden boards.

"I'm sorry you had to find me like that. But... you don't get it. You don't know..." You swallow. "You don't know enough about me now to judge whether I need protecting or not. You never did."

... You're right. He never did. He still doesn't. Jason never watched you grow up. He never got the chance to see you go through your awkward teen years. Get your first boyfriend. Scare the shit out of him. He didn't get to hang out with you and get ice-cream after school.

He never got the chance to do anything of these things. Not with you. Never with the one most dear to him, and his small, dark heart.

But that could change. Starting now, he could change. He would. He could. He will. For you.

He stares, eyes blankening. Then, they fill with something dark. A nervous shiver runs down your spine and your sense starts tingling in the back of your mind.

He speaks, low and steady. The shakiness is gone and you're not sure what went on in his head—but he sounds so sure now. So certain.

"Then, I will."

It's not a threat or a claim—but a withheld promise. The heaviness of it weighs down on you, and you aren't sure whether you should feel safe or scared.

He gets out of his chair and walks over to you. Unconsciously, you hold your breath, blood running cold as he stalks closer. That huge imposing frame that (probably) used to hold some semblance of comfort toward you; now terrified you to the bone.

His big hand rests atop your head, and ruffles your hair. "Starting now, I'll get to know you again. Then, everything can go back to normal."

... Did he even listen to a word you said?

He sends you a smile as he leaves the top of your head a tangled mess, slipping on his helmet and walking away.

You're left alone, heart pumping wildly in your chest and your brain throbbing with that buzz. Every sense and nerve on full alert—you sink down into that chair and pull your knees to your chest.

You think you may have bitten off a bit more than you can chew.

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taglist is closed! sorry!

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[9:43 pm]

(cw: f!reader, Mark is drunk)

"Fuck yeah! Keg stand champion!" You hear someone yell as you make your way into the crowded living room of the NXT frat house.

You hadn't planned on being here tonight. You had some assignments you wanted to get a jump on, you hadn't been in the best mood all day, and you didn't feel like spending your night around a bunch of drunken, bumbling idiots.

So how did you end up here? Your drunk, bumbling boyfriend fratboy!Mark. Well, not him directly. He'd been a little whiny when you told him you weren't going to come to the party tonight, but he understood your reasoning and didn't push. You'd actually gotten a call from Johnny about 20 minutes ago asking you to come help with Mark.

Mark was a lightweight, like a featherweight even. If he even smelled alcohol, he got tipsy. For the most part, during parties, you put yourself in charge of making sure Mark didn't get too drunk. When he got too drunk he got messy. Without you being there, there was no one to be in charge. You should have guessed you'd be getting this call at some point in the night, but not less than an hour after the party began.

You elbow past some drunk party goers and make your way upstairs toward one of the bathrooms that's always off limits during parties. You knock, hearing a muffled, "occupied! Use a bathroom downstairs!"

"Johnny," you reply, "it's me."

You hear a retch and cringe, listening as Johnny pulls the door open. He let's out a sigh of relief, "I'm sorry, he just wouldn't stop crying because he missed you. I don't know how you deal with this. He's fine with you, right?"

"Of course he is. Thanks for calling, enjoy your party," you nod with a smile.

Johnny leaves you and Mark alone in the bathroom and you take to helping Mark out. You rub his back and give him the water bottle Johnny had left on the counter for him. Mark is groaning the whole time, eyes shut as he curls in on himself. After about 15 minutes you know that he's done.

He's slumped against the toilet bowl when you pat his cheek, "come on, babe. Let's get you back to bed."

He doesn't even open his eyes as he whines, "not goin' to my room wi' you."

"We need to get you to bed, babe, come on," you prod.

His eyes snap open as he lifts his head, "Stop callin' me babe. Look, I have a girlfriend alright. She won't be happy if I bring another girl to my room."

"Mark, I am your girlfriend," you explain.

"No, you're not," Mark shakes his head like a child, "my girlfriend didn't wanna come out tonight, and she said— she said she's not comin' tonight." He's looking up at you with tears in his eyes, "I really miss 'er."

You crouch down beside him, cupping his cheek as you coo, "baby, I'm here. It's me."

"No, you're not you!" He squints at you, rubbing his eyes and grumbling about needing his glasses, "if you're my girlfriend, tell me something only my girlfriend would know."

You stare at Mark blankly, as his girlfriend since senior year of high school, there's a lot of things only you would know. You shrug and answer anyway, "when we lost our virginities to each other you cried."

"My mom knows that too, pick something else!"

"Mark, why would you tell your mom about that?" You ask incredulously.

"She loves me!" He cries, "just like my girlfriend! I miss my girlfriend!"

"Oh my— Mark Lee. It's me, I'm your girlfriend. You text me every time you need to wash your sheets because you forget how much detergent you need, you like it when I kiss below your ear, you keep snacks under your bed for midnight snacks, and you have a crush on the librarian on the third floor for some reason," you list off.

"Oh, my snuggle muffin! It is you! I missed you!" Mark exclaims as he throws himself into your lap, embracing you tightly.

You laugh, brushing your fingers through his damp hair, "I told you. Can we get you to bed now?"

"You're staying right?"

"Yes, Mark."

[copinghex]

3:00 a.m in Birmingham | T.S

Summary: Tommy's wife has trouble sleeping and resorts to a method he disapproves of. As usual, he tries to solve this issue in his own ways.

A/N: I stopped frequently reposting old works because I thought "oh, I'm gonna work on new stuff now," and then I didn't. Anyway, this is one of my favorites

Tommy sighed in relief as he found her car parked in front of their old house at Watery Lane. He's been looking for her for hours and although her whereabouts weren't exactly mysterious, Tommy couldn't stop his hands from trembling with the possibility of her being gone.

The house was dark as usual, even if they had enough money for it, none of the Shelby's saw the point of paying for electricity for a house they barely went to, the only electric light came from the betting shop, since the business place was closed for the day, the house only counted with the light from streets that shined through the windows.

Thomas walked from each to each room looking for his wife until he finally got to their old shared bedroom. She was sitting on the bed staring at the wall, arms resting on her knees while her hands played with a bottle of something he couldn't identify.

"I thought you didn't like this bedroom," Tommy drawled, holding himself from scolding her, she might not be physically injured, but he knew she wouldn't run away if she was alright.

"I don't, it's too small,"

"Yeah, I don't like it either," Tommy agreed and sat by her side, "so we shouldn't be here,"

She peeked at him by the side of her eye and brought her hands near her chest, trying to hide the label of the bottle, "I needed a place to relax,"

"Oh, why didn't you try a spa?"

"Because in case you haven't noticed, it's three in the morning, we must be the only people awake in Birmingham," she humorlessly chuckled, "well, perhaps with exception of the night shift workers,"

"Right, but why here in all the places?"

"...It was our home for many years, I thought the feeling of familiarity would help me relax, help me sleep,"

Tommy arched his eyebrows at his wife's answer, she had problems sleeping for some time since the business started to grow and brought some consequences, but for the last few years he could swear she's been sleeping well, she's been even able to convince him to try to rest.

"You should see a doctor," he spoke softly with a bit of humour, usually, she was the one suggesting that.

"Nah, all doctors are children of rich people who don't actually care about people," she bitterly spat, it was an honest belief of her, however, there was another reason why she refused to see a doctor.

It was because she already did, during the busy weeks Tommy was barely home, she managed to sneak a doctor into the house and the diagnosis wasn't pleasant, stress was keeping her from a well-deserved night of sleep and the recommendation was to absent herself from any stressful situation. Well, being married to Thomas Shelby was very stressful.

She thought of taking a break, perhaps going on holiday with the children, every time Tommy got home though, he seemed to need her more, business related papers, loneliness, a stress relief, she filled all the gaps Tommy turned a blind eye through the day, because he was always sure she'd effortlessly fill them for him.

He needed her, he told her that many times, mostly not verbally, but the way his tired eyes bored into hers when he got home from work, the way his hands pulled her close to him and how he seemed lost when she didn't greet him at the door left no doubts, together with whiskey, opium and cigarettes, she kept the broken pieces of him tightly tied.

Hell, she knew the best she could do for herself was to leave him, Tommy was unstoppable, he had no limitations or limits, he'd never rest and he lived something near fine with it. She was different, she didn't mind doing paperwork or looking after the broken man she called husband, but she needed assurance things wouldn't fall apart at any moment, she needed to sleep knowing her empire wasn't built on unstable land and that was something Tommy couldn't offer.

Trying to solve this impasse, she bought sleeping pills, the strongest she could find. They worked well for the first two years, eventually she became immune to the effect, increasing the dose wasn't an option anymore either, it'd probably make her overdose instead of sleep.

Now, she was sitting near the cause of her insomnia in the old bedroom they shared, refusing to confess the true reason for her sleepless nights.

"What 's that?" Tommy suddenly asked, eyeing the bottle in her hands.

"Nothing,"

"Show me," he offered his hand for her to give him the flask.

"No,"

"What is it? A secret? Show me," he tried to take it from her hand and she pushed him away, "what the fuck are you hiding?"

"It's none of your business, did you come here only to bother me?" she complained.

"Worrying about you it's bothering now, eh? Give me that fucking thing," he forcefully took the bottle from her.

She pressed her lips together as Tommy read the label, "Did the doctor give them to you?"

"No,"

"Who did?"

"I bought them,"

"With whose prescription?"

"Nobody's, Tommy! I just take them to sleep,"

"These are fucking strong, did you take all of them?"

"Yeah,"

"How long have you been taking these things?" he frowned, insisting when she didn't answer, "Hm?"

"Two years,"

"Two fucking years? Does a doctor know about it?"

"What right do you have to scold me, Tom? Do you think I can't smell opium on you?"

"It's not the fucking same, these can be dangerous,"

"Oh, and yours are not?"

"For fuck's sake," he sighed and stood up, adopting a scolding posture, "why didn't you see a doctor?"

"I don't like doctors, Tommy,"

"Neither do I, but I'd see one if you asked, I know what I'm doing, it's what I always did, you got these pills out of nowhere and hid them from me,"

"I never hid them from you, if you got to bed a bit earlier you'd have seen me taking them!"

"Argh, sorry for not keeping an eye on you, you know I have so much free time," he said ironically, "why don't you go around saying how much of a bad husband I am?!"

"Well, I wouldn't be lying, would I?" she snapped, "I went to a doctor, Tommy! Do you wanna know what he told me?! To stay away from stressful things, but guess what? You stress me out, being by your side is stressful!"

Tommy gulped, assimilating the words his wife just told him, he was not by any means surprised by them, he knew it was all true, but he never expected her to throw them on his face like this.

"...you're with me by choice, if you're not happy, leave," his tone of voice was calm, but there was a dangerous challenge in it. After so long together, she doubted Tommy would accept a divorce, it was certain that when she died, the name Shelby would in her grave.

Besides, leaving Tommy was not her true wish, except for the lack of sleep, her life was comfortable, her child went to the best school, she wore the best clothes, drove the fastest cars and drank the best wine. Also, her love for Tommy was undeniable.

"I don't want to leave you," she mumbled, watching Tommy's tense expression change to relief, "but I need to sleep, I need to be alright so I can help you to be alright,"

"I don't want you to be with me for pity," he sat back down.

"It's not pity, I wouldn't be here if it was," she hesitated for a second before confessing, "I love you,"

He weakly smiled, still looking shaken by her previous harsh statement, Tommy always thought of himself as a not good enough husband, now she just crossed all the lines and defined him as a bad one.

"Tommy," she whispered, "nothing in this world would make me leave you, you won't get rid of me so easily,"

"Nothing?"

"Nothing, not even my sleep craving body,"

Tommy nodded, humorlessly chuckling, he stood up and took the car's keys from his pocket, "Let's go then,"

"I came with my own car,"

"I'll tell the driver to bring it home tomorrow, c'mon,"

As Tommy made the way to his car, she followed after him. It took a few minutes until they got on the road.

Tommy drove slowly, at this hour there was no one in the streets but them. The darkness of the night would have consumed the scenario if it wasn't for the car's headlights.

Despite the engine's noise, she relaxed, the car smelled of cigarettes and Tommy's cologne, it was a familiar scent and she felt safe sitting beside her husband. However, the unknown road Tommy was taking strokes an alert light in her head.

"This is not the way home," she warned.

"I know, I've thought of going somewhere else first," Tommy answered, secretly with no idea of where he was driving to, he only knew it wasn't home.

"Where?"

"You'll see when you get there,"

"I can't keep secrets from you but you can keep secrets from me?"

"It's not a secret, it's a surprise,"

"Tsk, I don't believe you set up a surprise at three in the morning,"

"Better believe,"

As the world got silent, she rested her head on his shoulder, allowing her eyes to close and her arms to wrap around his.

"You know, only this time I'll let you put your feet on the seat," Tommy spoke softly.

"Oh, such a gentleman," she took her heels off, "where are we going, Tom?" she peeked the road through her heavy eyelids.

"Right now I'm trying to find a rotary on the way home,"

"Where the fuck are we going anyway?"

"Just wait and see,"

"Go on, Tommy, quit the mystery,"

"Be patient, love."

She sighed in frustration and made herself even more comfortable in the car seat. The shakes caused by the bumpy road worked almost like motherly lulling.

Tommy's plan went exactly like he expected, his wife fell into deep slumber, this time without the need of any pills.

[interfated]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ streamer hc's ! . . . ( 西村力 )

— pairing: 西村力 x reader — contains: fluff — now playing: 一子青葉

Bro's definitely the type to stream for shits and giggles

Like yeah he likes streaming but he never takes anything srsly

Probably streams Genshin or overwatch, perhaps the occasional fortnite if Jake begs him enough to play

The first time he introduced you on stream was most likely an accident... Like you brought him food, not knowing he was streaming and he was just like "You guys thought i was single but I'm not cause I'm super hot and cool and have a super hot and cool girlfriend"

Fan's loved you obviously, and since they loved you so much he decided to keep having you on stream and videos

Honestly, he wanted to introduce you sooner but didn't get the chance to talk to you ab it, was kinda worried you wouldn't be up for it

Very relieved (and very happy) when you said you wanted to do more stuff with him

He started doing date vlogs

He didnt record all of your guys' dates cause he wants at least a little privacy, especially on more romantic dates

but def records the silly dates like going to the arcade or sum

If he's feeling clingy and you want to be in stream he'll have you just chill on his lap as he plays

Streamings probably one of the only places he's ok with pda...

especially because of all the girls that flirt with him in chat LMFAO

Most definitely jumped with excitement when you asked to do a baking stream with him

You guys baked strawberry - choco muffins one time and he got flour literally everywhere... naturally he put some in your hair and on your face which started a dual while the muffins were baking

Fans would always comment on how soft he is for you, especially compared to how he usually acts

he def gets all flustered and tells you to ignore chat cause they 'don't know what they're talking ab'

Niki's not a very clingy person when in front of other people but on stream he'll put his head on your shoulder (if your on his lap) or he'll let you play with his hair and hold his face in your hands just mindlessly

The main reason he's okay with it on stream is cause he sees all the comments flirting with you and so he'll smirk every time you kiss his head or call him baby

After awhile of being in his content, you'd get flirty comments on insta and shit and he would ALWAYS be the first to be like "that's my gf" with 13 heart eye emojis or he'd fight with the other dudes in the comments

If you lose the 50/50 for a character you wanted on your acc, he'd grind to get it on his acc since you play on his acc most of the time anyway

his genshin acc is practically just a farming ground for all the cute characters he knows you want

100% streamed for like a solid 5 hours trying to get kokomi for you... lost the 50/50 and so he whaled and just bought enough primos to get her

he loves showing you off on stream

And he most definitely loves having you in his content but if you were to get even one hateful comment or gross dm he'd immediately take down everything with you in it

even if you said he didn't need to

He loves you and is in no way going to let you be harassed and insulted online like that

Probably streams an explanation after fans asked ab you in every single stream

"She is NOT coming back till yall stop acting like incels"

and he is VERY srs ab it

doesnt even let you show your face once until he's sure you won't get any insults or anything

would eventually bring you back but would have a very long talk with his fans beforehand ab how they need to be on their best behavior

tldr; he loves you very much, he loves having you in his content, would totes let you take over stream whenever you wanted, would delete all his content and acc's in an instant if you asked him to for any reason, just completely whipped for you and its obvious

@ featki

[starlightandsouls]

Yours To Have, Yours to Break

Summary: What if instead of Nesta, Cassian found out about Azriel and his secret lover. What will happen when the hearty general, in his anger of being left out, causes his brother's happiness to fall apart? How will he atone for his mistake?

A/N: Of course I had to make my comeback with the angstiest angst to ever angst. And that too by turning my fluffiest fic into pure pain. I guess you can say that this this is a spin off of Yours to Keep and Cherish. Also... I know I dropped off the face of the earth but life happens guys. I'm sorta back and here's a fic to make up for it.

Disclaimer: If you're an Elain fan, I would recommend you not read this. I would hate to ruin your day. I do not hate Elain. This is just an idea I got from all the soap dramas I've been seeing recently. Don't kill me please.

Also this shit and not edited. But I was so desperate to post something that I honestly don't care. Hope y'all like it. And yes there will be a part 2

Cassian POV:

As the General of the Night Court’s armies, Cassian had many duties: training soldiers, commandeering battalions at the borders, coming up with war strategies, buying romance novels for his mate and her friends. He wasn’t sure when the last one made its way on his list of responsibilities, or who put it there, but there it was. And who was Cassian to deny his mate?

So that’s how the Lord of Bloodshed found himself standing aimlessly in the middle of the Rainbow, scratching his head, with a list in his hand. Nesta had sent him off to find the newest edition of a Sellyn Drake novel but he hadn’t the slightest idea where to find it. His mate had instructed him to visit a particular bookshop named “The Quill”, being sure that they would have the newest book. Unfortunately, because luck had named him its nemesis at birth, the bookshop was closed for the day. He had asked around and apparently the owner had just left an hour prior to his arrival. Of course, they had.

That is why he had been wandering around the Rainbow, walking into one bookshop after the other, but somehow not one of them had the book Nes wanted. What are the odds of that? How is it possible that only one bookshop in the entire city had this specific book? And why did it have to be closed today? Cassian knew returning empty handed would not only incur the wrath of his beloved mate, but also her Valkyrie sisters. And given the fact that he himself had been teaching them some new disarming techniques, he had no desire to become their training dummy.

While he did not intend on stopping his hunt, he was quite parched. As the summer season approached, afternoons in Velaris became increasingly sweltering. A chilled glass of wine would do just the trick to cool him down, and also relax his nerves. Just as he was deciding on which bar to stop at, he remembered a conversation he had had with Mor the other day. She had told him about a café she had discovered that served the best margaritas during lunch time. Honestly, she hadn’t stopped raving about it for almost a week. What the hell. He was already out in town, might as well try a new place. If it turned out to be good, he could bring Nesta to placate her in case he couldn’t find her book.

Mind made up, he took off to the air, the subtle breeze as he did so, instantly making him feel better. Gliding through the clouds, the twists and turns with wind, were always a guaranteed way of cooling down.

Said café was perched on a hill overlooking the Sidra. He took in the view and the lush gardens outside the café as he landed, and started to walk in. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; the décor a blend of elegance and coziness. Oh yeah, he was definitely bringing Nesta here for a date.

He had just given his order to a waitress who looked way too giddy writing it down. Thank the Mother Nesta wasn’t here. Or someone might as well have lost a hand.

Although this is one of the reasons why he didn’t like coming to restaurants and bars alone. Not having company meant he didn’t have anyone to share his stories and jokes with. So, as he waited for his order to arrive, he sat back and took in the people around him; a habit that looked casual enough but was one instilled in him during his years training in the Illyrian camps.

He had been admiring the view from the balcony in the corner when his order arrived. Smiling a thank you, he took a sip from his margarita and damn was it good as Mor had said. He made a silent note to himself to thank her for the recommendation. He was in the middle of another deliciously cold sip, when something caught his eye in the corner of the room, causing him to choke.

What. The. Fuck.

Cassian was sure he looked like a blubbering fish with how his jaw dropped open and his eyes bulged out their sockets. He had to be dreaming or hallucinating from the heat. Yes, that must have been it, the heat had surely gotten to his head. For Cassian could think of no other explanation for the sight in front of him.

His brother, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, torture extraordinaire, was sitting hand in hand with a beautiful young woman, smiling like a love-sick fool and… eating macarons? Since when did Azriel like deserts? Or the more pressing question: who the hell was he sitting with? Cassian knew his brother liked to keep his lovers secret, but deep down his gut told him this was no mere fling, or one-night stand. For starters, Azriel was smiling like a puppy drunk on love, while bringing the lady’s hand up to his lips to kiss. Cauldron. Just as Cassian had somewhat stopped gawking like a fish out of water, he saw the lady lean over and whisper something across the table, causing Azriel to throw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

Although he couldn’t explain why, but at that moment Cassian felt a sharp hurt go through him. He could not remember the last time Azriel had laughed like that with them. Damn it, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen Azriel smile nearly as much as was doing now at any family function.

Before he could even begin to process what had unfolded before him, he saw Azriel pay the bill for their food and the couple walked out hand in hand. Immediately Cassian was on his feet, ready to follow them. If someone had asked him why he did what he did at a later moment, he would not have been able to explain himself. At that moment, Cassian was driven only by curiosity and a minor note of hurt too-why had his brother hid this from them?

Rushing out after paying the bill, Cassian saw the happy couple walk down the cobblestone path, once again arm in arm, with the woman leaning against Azriel. Another thing that shocked Cassian: how the hell had Azriel not noticed him by now? Those pesky little shadows normally informed his brother of every detail of his surroundings; Azriel’s own heightened senses and observational skills were what made him the Spymaster of this court. So, for him to not notice Cassian so obviously trailing behind them at a distance, was a testament to how captivated his brother was by the woman on his arm.

At one-point Cassian thought that his brother would winnow with his partner and he would lose them, but the couple continued their stroll without a care in the world. He continued to trail behind them while also maintaining somewhat of a distance. Azriel may not be as hyper vigilant as always, but he wasn’t blind by any means- and Cassian was no small man either.

“Breakfast was delightful, darling. We should plan another afternoon here, what do you think?” he heard the woman comment.

“Of course, but I am oh so very tired. I think I need a few days alone at home with my nightingale to recharge,” Azriel replied with a smirk.

Cassian balked on the inside: okay Mr. I Don’t Need To Resort To Poetry.

“We could always have breakfast here again on Saturday. It is our two-year anniversary, and I intend on spending the day however my nightingale wishes. I think the café can be a brilliant start to our day,” Azriel offered, laughing as the woman swatted his arm at the previous comment.

Reaching the end of the path, Azriel grabbed the woman in his arms and winnowed away, leaving behind a thoroughly perplexed Cassian.

……………………………………………………………………………........

Cassian was convinced he must have stood there for another half an hour before coming to his senses. He then took off to the House of Wind, ready to face his mate and the Valkyries’ collective wrath. And his assumption had been right; the three women had blown up when they saw him return empty handed and had proceeded to go on twenty-minute-long rant. For the life of him, Cassian could not have repeated a single word they had said. Because he had not listened to a single word, at least not while paying attention. As their rage had quelled, Cassian had simple gotten up and walked to his room, ignoring the questioning looks from his mate.

While Nesta was still in the library with the girls, Cassian had retreated to bed. And that is where he was now: sitting in bed, staring at a wall, completely at a loss for words. He could not even begin to process what he had seen, let alone understand what he was feeling. For some reason he could not get over how openly Azriel had laughed with that woman, how alight his eyes had seemed. It was as if the Shadowsinger was glowing with happiness, as paradoxical as that sounds.

And it’s not like Cassian wasn’t happy for his brother-quite the contrary. He was just hurt that Azriel had chosen to hide something like this from him for two years. Two years. The words clanged around his head like the sharp tolling of a bell. Azriel had this from them for two goddamn years. And he had a sinking feeling that if he had not discovered the two of them today, he would not have found out for quite some more time.

But why? Keeping casual flings a secret was no big deal. They all had had ventures they didn’t tell anyone, he was sure of it. But if the couple were celebrating their two-year anniversary, then it must be serious. Cassian could tell his brother was committed just by how he had been looking at the woman. And if Azriel truly was serious about this woman, why would he hide it from them? His family?

That is the part that pierced his heart. Up until this day, Cassian had thought the two of them to be rather close. Sure, Rhys and Az clashed from time to time because of their own attitudes, but he liked to think that Azriel and him had always been close. Azriel was his best friend for Cauldron sake. Whenever he had had issues with Nesta at the beginning of their relationship-and he had plenty- Azriel had been his confidante, the one he went to for advice. His brother had been there for him at the highs and lows of his journey with Nesta.

So why hadn’t he let Cassian do that for him? Why had his brother chosen secrecy when he could have confided in Cassian? It’s not like he wouldn’t have supported them. He knew his brother was secretive and shy, but it was one thing to hide things about his work and another to choose to hide such a major part of his life from his brothers.

They were brothers, they were supposed to support each other, to stand by one another, not keep secrets and tell lies. All of a sudden Cassian saw the past two years in a different light. He recalled all the times Azriel had shown up to breakfast with an unusually cheery mood, all the times he had been rushing to leave family dinner, all the times he had skipped their get togethers with the strangest excuses. How long had this been going on? And for how long had they been so painfully oblivious?

Did Azriel not trust them? No, that can’t be it. Did Azriel think he could not open up to them? Each explanation he came up with seemed less plausible than the last. As he continued to spiral, Cassian began to question whether the two were as close as he thought them to be.

Why. Why. Why.

“You know if you stare at the wall any longer, you’re going to burn a hole into it.”

Nesta. He hadn’t even noticed when she had come into the room, and judging by her amused look, Cassian assumed she had been there for some time. Pushing off the wall she had been leaning against, Nesta walked over and sat by him on their bed.

“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes, where’s your mind at?” Nesta asked while pushing some stray strands of hair behind his ear.

Shit. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just tell Nesta something he himself wasn’t supposed to know. If he hadn’t walked into that café by chance, Cassian would have been none the wiser about this whole situation. For whatever reason Azriel was keeping his relationship secret, he didn’t think it his place to reveal it.

“It’s nothing, Nes. Just thinking about Wind Haven. I’m supposed to head up there next week and I already know Devlon’s going to be a pain in the ass,” Cassian tried to divert.

“Since when have you started getting so worked up over Devlon? He’s going to whine and throw a fit, but ultimately he is going to have to do what you say. You’re worried about something else. What is it?” his ingenious mate inquired. How her intuition was so good he’d never know, honestly sometimes he thought of handing over the mantle of General to her, with how good she was.

“C’mon. You know you can tell me whatever is bothering you,” Nesta pushed while grabbing his hand in her own and damn did he melt at that.

“Alright. If I tell you, you cannot tell anyone else.”

Nesta sat up straighter at that, ears perked with curiosity, eyes wide open and eager.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Nesta answered while nodding.

“I’m serious about this Nes. You can’t tell anyone, not even Emerie or Gwyn. No one,” Cassian reiterated, trying to get his mate to understand how serious it was.

“Alright, alright. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

Cassian sighed before revealing what was very much not his secret to reveal,

“Azriel has a girlfriend.”

“Wait-what?”

“Az has a girlfriend,” Cassian repeated.

“No, I heard you the first time. But…how…when??? Why hasn’t he told anyone?”

“I have no idea, Nes,” Cassian replied while falling back against the headboard. He once again took to staring at the wall; confusion and hurt running rampant through him again, echoing the same question again and again.

Why had Azriel kept this a secret from them? From him?

“When did he tell you?” his mate inquired.

“He didn’t,” Cassian chuckled, “I stopped at that new café by the Sidra to get some drinks to cool down while I was out for your books. I saw them together there.”

A beat of silence passed between them before Nesta barged on with her questions,

“You seem…upset about all this?”

“I am. Not at the fact that he has a girlfriend, Cauldron no. It’s about time the idiot found someone. It’s just…why didn’t he tell us? Why keep it a secret?”

“Maybe…it’s new? You know Az. Maybe he just wants some time to figure things out himself before he tells you all,” Nesta reasoned.

Cassian let out a bitter laugh before spitting out,

“It is very much not new. The two were planning their two year anniversary at the same restaurant this weekend. Two goddamn years, Nes. He’s been lying to us for that long.”

He wrenched his hand from hers at that. Cassian knew he was being unfair and unreasonable, but he was angry. Maybe he had no right to be but one does not think clearly when in the clutches of fury.

As his previous confusion and hurt settled, they left behind only anger in their wake. That is what he felt right now. Anger. At Azriel, for lying to them all this time, for hiding something so significant. Did he not consider them brothers?

Before he could succumb to the ravages of anger, his darling mate was there to pull him back, as she always did.

“I can feel all that you know. Don’t let your anger override what you know to be true. This relationship of Azriel…it has nothing to do with us. We’re not entitled to anything regarding it just because we’re his family.”

“Oh so what I’m just supposed to ignore the fact that he’s been lying to us about his whereabouts and plans for the past two years, when he could have just told us?”

“No I am asking you to trust Azriel. You know your brother, Cass, probably more than anyone else. You know that he has a reason for everything he does and you know that he would never do anything to hurt his family intentionally. If nothing else, trust in that.”

Cassian sighed a defeated sigh. His mate was right, as she always was. For whatever reason Azriel had decided to keep this relationship a secret, Cassian would have to trust in it. And when the time came, he hoped his brother would feel comfortable revealing the truth himself.

……………………………………..................................................

Little did Cassian know, that despite the fact that he had made Nesta swear not to tell Azriel’s secret, he had unintentionally revealed it to a third. For outside their bedroom clutching books she had meant to return, stood Elain. Elain, who had almost torn the books with how hard she was clutching them. Elain, who’s hands quivered with rage.

This is why Azriel had been ignoring her. All these months she had been trying to get his attention and he had always slipped away. Because of this?? Some common girlfriend?

No matter. Elain would get him back. How could he ignore her for some commoner? Who deserved his love more than her?

As she walked away, already planning her schemes, a wicked thought went through her mind, a precaution in case she couldn’t convince Azriel:

If I can’t have him, no one can.

...............................................................................................

Azriel POV:

The past few days had been the happiest he had ever been. Although Azriel wasn’t quite sure how fair that judgement was. Each hour he spent with his nightingale, he deemed his happiest. And it has been two years of such blissful happiness. Two years together at each other’s side that they were celebrating today.

He had already arrived at the same café they had breakfast a few days ago and was now anxiously awaiting his beloved girlfriend. Honestly, he would have preferred that the two arrive together, not wanting to spend a minute away from his nightingale. But alas, not everything had to be as he wished. As soon as she had woken up, his nightingale had slipped out from his arms (something he had still not forgiven) and had rushed to her book shop. According to her, she had some urgent delivery that she just had to be there for. Therefore she had promised him that she would meet him directly at the café.

That left him, sitting in their favorite spot in the café, with his head swiveling to the door every time it opened, hoping his nightingale had arrived. It wasn’t like she was late, it’s just that he too early, wanting what he hoped would be a great start to a celebration filled day.

“Oh, Azriel!”

He heard his name be called, but his heart instantly dropped, that voice did not belong to his nightingale. Turning around he saw…

“Elain? What are you doing here?”

“What a coincidence, Az! I was just out for some errands and thought I would get myself a drink. I’m absolutely parched! Thank the Cauldron for this lovely café!” Elain replied in an unusually high pitched voice.

“Yes, how lovely…” he trailed off, gaze flicking to the door. He knew his girlfriend would be arriving soon and he would much rather Elain not be here for that… for a plethora of reasons.

“Well, what are the chances of meeting you here Az? And look, you’re alone too! Why don’t we have lunch together, it feels like we haven’t caught up in forever.”

“Actually I’m meeting some…”

He never got to finish his sentence. If someone asked him later what happened, Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to explain it. One second Elain was smiling at him, trying to grab his hand, the next her gaze turned cold, flicking to something behind him. The next thing he knew, within a matter of seconds, Elain had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and smashed her lips to his.

What. The. Fuck.

Azriel didn’t even process what had happened, didn’t even realize that she was kissing him. Elain. Was. Kissing. Him.

The last thought jolted him out of his state of shock and he pushed her away. Not caring for who saw or heard, he yelled,

“What the fuck Elain? You can’t just grab people like that! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh c’mon Az. It was barely a peck. I had barely begun to enjoy it,” Elain replied with a callous smirk.

All of a sudden he did not recognize her; he didn’t recognize the cruelty in her eyes, the indifference in her expression. Where was the kind hearted woman he considered a friend? And who was standing in front of him in her place? When he didn’t say anything, still riddled with shock, Elain continued,

“Well no matter. It may have been short but it achieved it’s purpose,” Elain replied slyly. She inched closer and grazed her hand up his arm and whispered, “if you want to continue, I would gladly indulge you, Azriel.”

He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, why she was doing this, in a crowded café no less. But Azriel was way too uncomfortable to try to find out. He wrenched his arm away from her and was about to give her a piece of his mind when he saw it again: Elain’s gaze flickering to something behind him with a wicked smirk on her face. One of victory.

Hoping against hope it wasn’t what he feared it was, Azriel turned around. And it was like time itself had stopped. For there, at the entrance of the café, with tears streaming down her face, stood his girlfriend, his nightingale. A millennia could pass and Azriel would not forget the raw pain, the betrayal shining in her eyes amidst the tears.

No. No. No. No. No. This is not happening. This cannot be happening.

He took one step toward her, to explain, to make her understand he had no fault in what she had seen. But before he could, his nightingale turned around and left the café.

Not knowing what to do, Azriel followed after her to see her almost running away from him.

“Love! Please! Listen to me, its not what it looks like,” Azriel begged, anguish lacing every word.

“Oh please Azriel. Do you know how typical you sound right now?” He did, Cauldron he did. But she had to understand…

“Darling I would never hurt you like that. I don’t even know why she was there… or how… but you have to understand… she kissed me! I pulled away… I would never do that to you,” Azriel let out. He knew his fragmented thoughts probably didn’t make much sense. But panic and fear were making it difficult to come up with something cohesive.

“Really, Azriel? You don’t know what she was doing there?! For Cauldron sake, Azriel! I know you called her there. You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should have done it yourself like a man. You didn’t have to use her for it!” his nightingale spat at him.

What? Break up with her? Break up with the one blessing the Mother had bestowed upon him? What the hell was she talking about?

“Love… I don’t…”

“You don’t what? Huh? Have any need for me anymore? Well you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way, please go enjoy your life with your darling Elain?” His girlfriend yelled, throwing out Elain’s name like it was poison.

Vaguely he sensed Elain coming up behind them. How did she catch up with them? His love spat out a wry laugh, before saying,

“Look, she’s here to get you Azriel. Go be with your love.”

Before he could refute it, Elain jumped in,

“Its okay, Azriel. I told her everything. She’s not in the way anymore. We can be together now!”

“Elain, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing this? You-”

“Cut the act Azriel. Go. Enjoy your life.”

And with that his nightingale walked away for good, taking the shattered pieces of his heart and soul with her.

… … … … … … … … … … … …

Azriel stood in that spot like a blubbering fish for Cauldron knows how long. He was smarter than this. He was quicker than this. He knew that. But for some reason his mind felt addled, like it was submerged in some murky fog. He couldn’t think straight for some reason.

What the fuck had just happened? Did it truly happen? No, it had to be a nightmare. It had to be. He didn’t just lose the love of his life. He didn’t. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Azriel had almost convinced himself of his own delusion, when Elain’s rustling snapped him out of his daze. The woman had the gall to walk away after everything she just did. Not so fast. He grabbed her by the arm and yelled in her face, propriety and etiquette long forgotten,

“WHAT THE FUCK ELAIN? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?”

She wrenched her arm back and held her head up high when responding, as if she just had just committed some honorable deed,

“I did what I had to. You were never there Azriel. I always tried to talk to you… but you were never there. And to find out that it’s because of her! Some commoner! I couldn’t bear it. But she’s not here anymore, Azriel, we can be together!”

“What?! Are you hearing yourself Elain? I don't love you! Not like that, I never have-”

“BUT I LOVE YOU! WHY ISN’TTHAT ENOUGH!” Elain screamed back.

“You’re out of your mind. You… how did you even find out?”

“Cassian told me,” Elain replied calmly, her demeanor immediately changing. There was something seriously wrong with her.

But her words were what caused his world to stop spinning.

“What?”

“Cassian told me. He saw the two of you together the other day and told me that I would find you here today as well.”

His mind was reeling. Cassian knew too? How? He had been so careful with everything? How had it slipped past him so easily?

Elain patted his shoulder one last time before saying,

“We’re meant to be together, Azriel. I love you so much that I’ll ignore this commoner you were sullying yourself with. She might have left you. But I’m always here for you with open arms.”

And then Elain left, simply and quietly. As if she had not sentenced Azriel to a life without the one happiness he had salvaged for himself in this cruel world.

..........................................................................................

Cassian POV:

Cassian had been sharpening his blades in the training arena, waiting for the Valkyries to arrive, when he felt the wards shift. Someone had winnowed in. Before he could question who it was, he saw Azriel standing at the entrance.

Despite Nesta’s words, his immediate reaction at seeing his brother was one of annoyance. He doubted Azriel was here to confess so the continuing secrecy bothered him even now.

Any rant or anger that Cassian was planning on letting out, disappeared as he neared his brother. Azriel had tears streaming freely down his face, shoulders shaking from the sobs.

“How could you?”

Was all his brother let out. Cassian was at a complete loss for words. His brave stoic brother was falling apart before him and Cassian knew neither cause nor cure. His lion hearted brother who had bared five centuries of pain and trials and had never let out even a wince. And now… It seemed like something was tearing Azriel apart into shreds.

“Az, what’s wrong? I-

“How could you?” Azriel repeated, his sobs getting more and more violent. And each falling tear fell like acid on Cassian’s heart. All previous annoyance was replaced by an overwhelming urge to soothe and comfort.

“How could you? What did I ever do to you?” Azriel cried out again.

“Az… brother… I have no idea…”

“Oh don’t act stupid. Don’t act like you don’t know about my girlfriend!”

Oh. That is what this was about? Azriel knew that he knew? But why was he so upset about it? Cassian didn’t think him finding out warranted such a reaction-

“You knew and you send Elain there to ruin everything!”

What? Elain? What did she have anything to do with this?

“You ruined everything! My nightingale… she’s gone… she won’t even talk to me… She won’t look at me… And it’s all your fault!” Azriel let out in between hiccups of tears.

Cassian knew he had to intervene before Azriel spiraled into a full panic attack.

“Brother, calm down. Alright, yes I saw the two of you at the café, but I only told Nesta, I swear on it. I have no idea what you’re talking about, or what Elain has to do with anything.”

Azriel moved further away from him. The utter betrayal shining in his eyes made Cassian want to bury himself in the darkest corner of the world. He did not know what his fault was but he was ready to spend eternity atoning for it if it meant Azriel would no longer be in the pain he was so clearly in.

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” Azriel roared, leaving Cassian stunned, “ You did this! You couldn’t bear it, could you? You couldn’t stand the fact that I was happy so you sent Elain to ruin everything. You always do this, you always have to take everything away from me!”

Before Cassian could ask for an explanation or beg for forgiveness for a crime he did not know, Azriel had winnowed away.

Alone, his mind was working on overdrive. What did Elain have to do with anything? Cassian was no fool. He had long been aware of the youngest Archeron sister’s affections for his brother. But he also knew his brother had never reciprocated those affections, had always seen Elain as nothing more than a friend.

How did she know about Azriel’s relationship? Nesta could not have told her. Despite how close the two sisters were, his mate had sworn to him and he knew Nesta enough to know that she did not go back on an oath. Had Elain somehow overheard them? And if she had, what could she possibly have done to cause Azriel so much pain?

So many questions were whirring through his head, not one of them had a coherent answer. But amidst the chaos, a singular thought rang the loudest, and it was one that pierced Cassian’s heart:

What have I done?

[witherby]

yknow, i bet jj's had to really stay on top of his first-aid skills with how cavalier punchline is about injuring herself. like, joker isn't going to handle any of that, but someone will still need to pick glass out of her feet or set a bone in place. and i don't think jj would trust anyone else to do it

Extremely true! JJ's work with his custom first aid kit he cobbled together would blow professional EMTs out of the water.

Punchline and JJ: Health Screening

Masterlist is Here!

⚠️ This is a violence and injury-heavy series. Graphic descriptions of harm may apply. ⚠️

Getting access to you is near-impossible. Not only is Tim JJ refusing to allow himself to be separated from you for anything other than a bathroom break, nobody is even allowed to touch you without him threatening to throw a fit. It causes everyone tremendous headaches though they do their best not to show it.

JJ knows, though. He didn't come here willingly and that's everybody's problem. You're just happy to hang around your brother regardless of location.

When food is delivered, JJ always eats some first to make sure it isn't poisoned, something everyone has promised him time and time again they would never do, before giving you your portion.

When someone tries to visit and talk with them, JJ stands next to the door with his fists clenched and a thin, threatening smile on his face to dissuade them from entering.

When a health check is requested, JJ rattles off his and your most important conditions, allergies, and insists on the equipment being left behind so he can run the tests himself and report anything else back. That one causes some friction, but your brother is steadfast that you will not be poked and prodded by strangers.

"I can't even feel it, JJ," you huff, sitting on the floor while your brother is behind you on the bed and braiding your hair. The ends are in need of a trim, but getting any sharp object without sneaking out of the cell to steal one is impossible. "So what if they want some blood? I've lost more playing the handstand game with you."

"That's because you decided to do a handstand over a pile of broken glass."

"I had sparkly hands!!" You laugh. "They were so pretty!"

Your brother rolls his eyes but his smile is fond. "It took three hours to pick all the shards out. Just because you can do those things doesn't mean you should."

"Yeah yeah, I know..." You look down at your fingers, slightly crooked in some places and badly scarred in others. You don't tell JJ that sometimes feeling pretty overrides your desire to have a fully-functioning body. You aren't sure you need to; he's so perceptive sometimes you don't need to say anything at all for him to understand what you really want. You think that's part of the reason why he learned to style your hair.

"Alright. Twin braids, done and done!" JJ presses his hands on both sides of your head and gently shakes it. You bob around, laughing, and bat him away. "Me next. I want a fishtail braid alllll the way down to my butt."

"Your hair barely goes past your ears!"

"Drats. We gotta go rob a wig store sometime."

You turn to face him and hum, rocking side to side.

"JJ?"

"Yeah?" He answers.

"You're the best big brother ever," you tell him honestly. "I'd never want anybody else to be my family."

JJ grins and joins you on the floor, legs crossed, and rocks with you. "Me too."

You look away from him and click your feet. "Promise?"

"I promise."

"Pinky promise?"

JJ threads your fingers together and gently shakes them. "Pinky promise."

"No take backsies?"

"No take backsies. Never."

"...not even...for the bats and birds?"

JJ tugs on your hand to make you look at him. His expression is solemn and his tone is no-nonsense.

"I'd sooner kill 'em all than leave you alone, Punchline. They aren't gonna make me replace you, ever."

You feel a knot in your chest come undone and give your brother a tight squeeze, hiding your face in his shoulder. JJ squeezes you just as tight, rubbing comforting circles in your back.

"That's why you were cranked up more than a jack-in-the-box the whole time?" He asks, gently teasing.

"Maybe," you mumble. "They keep calling you by your old name."

"It's an old name, P," he insists. "I'm not that guy anymore. I won't be that guy again. He's dead and gone."

You nod, repeating his words under your breath.

"Dead and gone."

--

"Madam Punchline?"

You lift your head to look at Alfred waiting at the door and stop playing with your brother's shoelaces, having tied them together while he's sleeping. When he wakes and tries to stand, he'll trip. It'll be hilarious!

"Fancy man," you whisper. "Whataya want?"

"I was wondering if you might permit me to check your temperature?" Alfred asks. His hands are clasped in front of him, devoid of any object. He didn't bring what he needs with him, which means you have to leave the cell to do the check. By yourself.

You glance at JJ, hesitant. Your smile thins.

"It's a very simple procedure. I just need you to hold a small, sterile stick under your tongue for some time, and then I'll double-check it with a scanner."

"...bring it here," you say.

"I'm afraid I cannot," Alfred says, and looks genuinely remorseful. "This family has a habit of losing things, so the thermometers are attached to the medical bay's wall with bungee cable. I promise to bring you right back."

You look at your brother again, then Alfred. You click your feet together.

"D'ya need his temperature taken, too?"

"It's easier to do it one at a time."

You cross your arms and turn your back to Alfred as you think. Truth be told, you couldn't care less if these people wanted to scan your head or shove a nail in your kneecap — it's not like you could feel the pain anyway — but the cell is very dull, and you are becoming bored.

Being bored has never been a good feeling. Especially not to Popsy. When he gets bored, bad things happen.

"How long?" You ask.

"I can have you back here in five minutes."

Five minutes should be fine. You've been apart from JJ for five minutes before. No sweat! And he'll bring you back! Fancy Man was the one that reunited you to begin with! It's fine!

You pluck the hair pin JJ gave you from your head and set it on the pillow next to your brother, then walk towards the butler.

"Okay," you nod. "Five minutes."

"Five minutes, madam," Alfred promises. He punches in a code on the keypad facing his side of the door and it slides open silently. When he extends a hand to you, you tug at the pristine, white glove and slip it off, stepping into the corridor with a giggle.

"Soft," you coo, reaching for his other hand. Alfred acquiesces to the theft and starts leading you to the med bay. "Mine now! Ha-ha!"

"I have many, so you're welcome to those," he says, folding his hands behind himself as he strides. "If you'd like, I can see to having a special pair tailored to your hands. Mine are a bit bigger than yours."

You slip your fingers into the gloves. They're soft on the inside, too. He's right though; they're too big and you have to keep your hands clenched to prevent them from sliding off. Lame. Maybe they'd fit JJ though, so you take them back off and slide them into a pocket on your skirt.

"What's your deal, Fancy Man?" You ask, mimicking his posture. Alfred smiles a little, which makes your smile more genuine. "Why're you bein' so nice? Y'know who our Popsy is, right?"

"I am very familiar with your father's work, madam," Alfred says, "but children are the product of their parents' behavior, not the other way around. It's easy to be kind to those who deserve it."

"Uh huh. Don't think that applies to us."

"Why ever not?" He asks. You pantomime swinging your mallet down and can still recall the harsh squish of Tilly's flesh and bones caving under the pressure a month ago. His face shifts into recognition. You don't know if you like that he saw the broadcast or not.

"We all have things for which we must atone," Alfred says, after a moment to think. "This cave — this family — is no stranger to violence. It would be very hypocritical to shun you for one bad deed."

Your smile ticks up on one side and your brows furrow. You don't know how to respond, and the butler doesn't press you to. Alfred gestures for you to walk through a door on your left and you do, looking around at all the medical tools. Suddenly, Tilly is the last thing on your mind.

"Oh, JJ has one of those!" You exclaim, pointing at the AED on the wall. "And that." You point to a scope for checking your ears. "And that." You point to a suture kit. "And that. And that. And — well, not that anymore, that one blew up two warehouses ago... Oh! He has that! And that!"

Alfred pulls a step stool out and gently pats the examination table. You climb up and sit down without fuss, head craning all around to look at more things.

"He doesn't have that. What's that?" You pick up a tube and close one eye, peering down it with the other. When you don't see anything, you put your mouth on the end and blow. "Hooooooo."

"It's a tube, meant to go down your throat to help you breathe." Alfred gently pulls on it but you clamp your teeth down and refuse to let go. "While this is quite amusing, my lady, the longer this takes, the longer your brother will be without you."

You immediately open your mouth and spit the breathing tube out. Alfred puts it in the sink across the room and then grabs a thermometer off the wall.

"You weren't lyin'!" You snort, looking at the little bungee cable tied to it. "That's so dumb!"

"I have no reason to lie, miss Punchline," Alfred says. He gestures for you to open your mouth, and gently guides the tip of the thermometer under your tongue. "Though, if you suspected I was, why did you still leave with me?"

"Cause it's too boring in the box!" You exclaim, pulling the thermometer back out. "I can't play Tag in there. I can't play Hide and Seek in there. The handstand game gets boring after a while. I can't climb anything! We're getting bored!!"

"I understand," Alfred says, waiting patiently for you to say your peace before offering the stick again. You stay quiet this time and hold it in your mouth. "My sincerest apologies, lady Punchline. I'll have that corrected as soon as possible."

You hum, kicking your feet as you sit and wait for the thermometer to get a reading. A memory surfaces — you're much smaller, maybe four, and dizzy all the time. You're shifting between hot and cold, and JJ has you bundled up in a coat he pilfered from a thrift shop. He's taking your temperature with one of these sticks and murmuring that you're gonna be okay, that you just need to stay warm and get lots of rest and drink water. You remember that it was during one of Popsy's vacations to Arkham, and that getting food and clean water was harder when you were both younger. Something about Uncle Scarecrow poisoning the water system for a week...you can't recall. That whole stint is a blur, really, but you remember how gentle JJ was about nursing you back to health.

When the thermometer beeps, you hand it over to Alfred. After he cleans and puts it back, he grabs the scanner gun. You hop off the table in surprise and duck behind it.

"The hell? You tryna dome me!?"

"Oh, my!" Alfred looks genuinely upset by your implication. He aims it at his own head and presses the button to demonstrate. "It's not a real gun. I promise I mean you no harm."

"...oh." In hindsight, there's no place to insert any ammo, and it wouldn't make much sense to go through all the effort to do a check-up if you were just gonna die after. You straighten up and brush imaginary lint off your clothes, giving him a sheepish smile. "My bad. Scan away, doc."

Alfred waves the apology away and holds the scanner out to you first, taking the time to explain what he's going to do and how it works before doing it. You don't voice it, but you appreciate the explanation.

"I believe that's our time, my lady," Alfred says, opening the door leading back to the hall. "I shall lead you back to your brother."

"Kay!" You skip past him and towards the cell without fuss. Before you get close enough to the door to see inside, it slides open and JJ stumbles out, eyes wide and barefoot. "You're awake!"

He grabs you close and hugs you tight. You pat his back.

"Don't do that again," he says. "Don't let them take you anywhere without me knowing."

"I just got my temperature checked. It's your turn," you reply, and pull out the pilfered gloves. "I stole these for you!"

JJ tucks them into his own pocket and then hugs you again, glaring at Alfred over your shoulder.

"You promised —"

"That you two would not be kept apart," Alfred interrupts calmly. "I brought her right back after we were done. She is unharmed, master Ti— Junior."

"I wouldda stayed," you admit, "but I was bored, JJ."

His grip tightens briefly, then slackens. He lets out a heavy sigh and gives you a wan smile.

"Me too," he admits quietly. "I'm not mad at ya."

"Come look at all the junk they got in there," you say, taking his hand. He instinctively threads your fingers together. "There's stuff you got! I recognized it."

Alfred takes two steps to the side to allow you both to pass, gesturing back down to the med bay. "We can spend as long as you like in there, if it pleases the lady and gentleman. I really do need to take your temperature, master Junior, if you'll permit it."

JJ looks unconvinced. You tug on his hand.

"I'll go with!" You say. "It's somethin' to do, JJ. C'mon! Please?"

Like a house of cards, he crumbles to your puppy dog eyes immediately, like always.

"Yeah. Okay."

Before you can drag him off, he tugs your hand and gives you a flat look.

"And then you have to untie my shoes."

You grin up at the small, red spot on his forehead that looks like it might need ice.

"Deal."

[prettynice8]

Kinkmas Day 9: Cock Warming

Ni-ki aka Nishimura Riki x male reader

This guy

Stuff: Cock warming DUH, kissing, anal fingering, fluff, no actual fucking, established relationship.

Word Count: 761

Notes: Happy Birthday Ni-ki!!!

Ni-ki is your perfect boyfriend. He loves you more than anything, he's always there for you, and he is just the sweetest thing, he's also really hot and the sex is amazing, but you love him more than just that, crazy.

As of now, you and Ni-ki are making out on the couch, his hands gripping your ass as you moan lightly into his lips, allowing him to shove his tongue down your mouth and into your throat, making it dance along with your own.

You pull away for a quick second just to say, "Ni-ki, I love you." Your eyes were filled with adoration and sincerity as you said the words you've said thousands of times before, and you mean it every time.

"I love you too Y/n, now let me show you." He replied by calling his lips with yours again, going back into the gentle but passionate kissing.

His soft lips felt amazing against yours, there would be times where you two just make out for hours, no fucking necessary, lost in the bliss you two find within each other's lips, and this time is no different.

You two have been making out for that past half hour and have no plans on stopping. The feeling of his lips on yours is just too good to escape, like a force always pulling you in whenever you think you should pull away.

His hands dip down to tug at the waistband of your pants, making your gasp but follow his silent request, getting away with your pants until your lower half is completely bare, all the while still making out with him. Ni-ki does the same with his own pants, doing away with them while still keeping your lips connected.

Once you're both bare from the waist down, Ni-ki gently puts two fingers into your anus, making your gasp and lightly moan into his lips at the sudden intrusion. He begins to slowly pump his fingers in and out of your hole, making you moan louder into his lips.

After he's decided that you're prepared enough, he takes his fingers out, making your whine in complaint at the empty feeling. Those complaints soon dissipate when he slowly sets you down on your cock, your whines of feeling empty now turning into whines of pleasure with a touch of discomfort.

"So good..." You moan out, kissing his neck as he lowers you onto his cock, bottoming out.

You start to bounce but to your surprise, you can't, the reason you can't is because Ni-ki's hands lay tightly on your hips, forbidding any movement.

"What are you doing? Don't you want to fuck?" You asked, confused on why he isn't letting you bounce on his cock.

"Nah." He answered plainly, his hands gripping tightly to your hips, stopping the grinding movement you're trying to pull off. "I just want you to stay here, like this." He gives you a gentle smile as he says this, making your confusion, frustration, and hips fall as you settle down, cuddling up to him as you realize the situation.

"I see... you just wanted to cock warm..." You said to Ni-ki, giving him a gentle kiss.

"Yeah, sure, cock warming." He responded, tightening his arms around your waist and pulling you in closer while his stiff cock was buried inside you. "I love you..." He said sweetly, kissing your head.

You return his gentle smile, going back up to kiss his lips, undoing the pause in the make out session. He quickly kisses back; his hands shift from around your waist to one resting on hip while the other goes to your cheek, gently cupping it as he deepens the kiss.

The kissing is enough to make you dizzy from filling your brain with pure serotonin, while his cock being buried in your ass, making you two all the closer and making the 'embrace' mean so much more adds the dopamine.

Ni-ki whispers little 'I love yous' into your lips over and over again, the sweet embrace you two are currently sharing making his love for you even bigger, the space in his heart that only you occupy grows within him.

After another hour or so of making out, his cock buried in your ass the whole while, you fall asleep. Your eyes are closed, your head laying on his chest, your lips swollen from the long extended make out period, and his cock still buried in your ass.

"I love you." Ni-ki said, kissing your head before joining you in the deep slumber.

THE END

HAPPY B DAY NI-KI!!!!!!!!!!

[weird-is-life]

hii! could i request an aaron x reader where you're in desperate need of a hug and you ask him for one after a stressful case? (he could totally use one too) ty!! 🤍

Ty for this cute request! Warnings: bau!reader, tough case, reader is mentally exhausted,(0.6k)

This case was tough. You don't know what it was that hit you so hard about it, but it did. You tried to relax on the flight home, but the music didn't help, and neither anything that usually does.

Most of the team goes back to the office, paperwork waiting for all of you. You sit down in your chair, ready to get lost in all of the paperwork.

Hours later or days, there's a tap on your shoulder. You look up, blinking the soreness from your eyes. Aaron is standing next to your chair with his suitcase in his hand.

"Y/N, what are you still doing here?" Aaron questions, usually he's the last one here.

"Sorry, Hotch. I just got carried away with the work, I think," you check the clock on your desk, wincing when you see that it's almost midnight.

"C'mon, I'll take you home," you would protest if you weren't so tired that you would probably crash your car. And if it wasn't Aaron who said it.

"I can take uber, Hotch. It's fine really. You should hurry home to Jack," you try to reason with him as you pack your things.

"Jack is with Jessica, and besides you live on my way home so I don't mind at all, c'mon," Aaron patiently waits while you slowly get up from your chair, and move to stand beside him.

Aaron notices that you are unusually quiet as you walk towards the elevator. He contemplates on whether he should say something or just let it go.

The elevator dings open, and you both step inside. You look like a kicked puppy, and to be honest Aaron feels the same.

"Hey, are you okay?" Aaron finally asks. You only look at him, and he already knows the answer to that.

"Yeah," you lie," just tired." Aaron sees right through you. Not because he can obviously read it from your face, but because the case hit him hard as well.

"Me too," he thinks what he should say to make you feel better. There's just something about you, and he can't stand seeing you so upset.

"But..." he starts," If there's anything I can do, y/n. I'm here for you as-as your friend," Aaron ignores the slight hurt in his chest when he says the word 'friend'.

You just nod. You don't really know what you need right now. Your mind is a mess, and Aaron soft smile isn't helping the mess at all.

The elevator finally gets to the lowest floor, and when you and Aaron move to get out of it Aaron's hand brushes yours.

You realise how much you crave the warmth of a touch after this case as you trail after Aaron. The walk to his car seems endless. You can't decide if you can just ask him for a hug, if it wouldn't be too weird.

"Okay, what is it?" Aaron notices your the wheels turning in your head anxiously.

You let out a deep breath, and look at him. He looks as pained as you feel, pained that you won't tell him what's wrong.

"C-Could I...." you start sheepishly," can I have a hug?" If he looks confused by your request he doesn't show it. His face fixed in his grumpy expression ad always.

He drops his bag on the ground, and then his strong hands are around you. You immediately melt with his touch, your arms locking around his torso.

Aaron shouldn't like having you in his arms as much as he does. You are perfect fit, like two pieces of puzzle melting together.

Aaron, selfishly, lets you hold him however long you want. He would let you do it even the whole night.

You stand there for long minutes. When you finally let go, Aaron doesn't say anything only drags you inside the car. He doesn't say anything even when he drives you home with your cheeks red as tomatoes the whole time.

[shuenkio]

Moonstruck | 성훈 🖤 엔.하.이.픈 (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Paring: idol!Sunghoon X M!reader

Genre: Fluff. Synopsis: Taken a week vacation in the UK that Jay suggests to find out that, he's not the only child, he had another little brother?

Non proof read English is not my 1st.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A/N: Forget to mention m/n have the punk/hip-hop style in dressing, black from head to toe you can imagine ;) btw English here is a bit cheeky, hope you don't mind.

The World Tour comes to an end, the boy band group "ENHYPEN" gets a chance to take their own break, vacations and personal doing. It is a blessing and relief that they all get time to rest, after doing concerts non-stop, they're gonna spend time in their own way.

On the other hand, in the dorm, Jay, one of the members chit chatted with his teammates if they wanted to go on vacation in the UK. Positivity, they are all immediately drawn and agree to the suggestion idea. The boys had never stepped foot in the UK before, so why not ? Even better, Jay would pay half of the tickets too, isn't that Great? Only idiots can decline this offer.

After flying a few hours from Korea to the UK, it finally arrived. The land of the united kingdom, known as the British country. It's like entering another side of the world, people have their own unique remarkable, people speak British English, chaos and busy days, with the high technology here. This is gonna make one of the best memories ever.

Moving on to Jay's place. Actually it was one of his parents places here. After hearing Jay would bring his teammates in, his parents happily flying over the moon, quicker than the speed of light, arrive in the UK to prepare and welcome them, not to mention they have a private jet that's why.

Knocking on the tall well-built traditional door, all 7 guys greetings by Jay's parents, with a warm hug and kiss. While taking a peek inside, it is like taking a vacation in a damn golden castle. Everything is decorated in luxurious furniture, the light, the floor, and it's hella large, just imagine a mansion like.

Settled down inside, Both of Jay's parents went through the kitchen to prepare a lot of meals for the family, and the guests but that's not the case, they're all family too. Admire in the surroundings, Jay would be given them and show them their guest bedroom, and what to do and don't until most of them are in their own guest room, left Sunghoon who was there, standing alone like a lost puppy in his mate's house.

"Uh Jay-ah, where can I sleep for tonight?"

"...hmmm.. all the guest rooms are full now for them so maybe my brother's room, come on let me show you, I hope he won't be mad"

Sunghoon blinks, furrow his brows confused as Jay mentioned he just has a brother knowing all along he is the only one, when he said that, it makes no sense.

"brother? ... You had a brother? I thought you were the only child?" Said while walking, as Jay guided him to M/N room.

"it's a long story, I didn't tell you all for a reason, haha now now we're here" Knocking on the door, Jay speaks calling, for M/N name. Later, the door opened, revealing a boy who was dressed, in a very... Different style, that quickly grabs Sunghoon's attention.

"JAY?" You happily shout, knowing Jay home after waiting for him for days, greeting him with a hug, which is soon returned by him.

"M/N! How I miss you. How are you? Are you doing great?"

"well yeah I am, I'm very good and I hope you're doing okay too" You respond, crossing your hands in. Then your eyes land on a taller pale guy, behind Jay. You might know him, but he probably doesn't.

"oh, is he Sunghoon hyung?" Mutter, you peeking behind your brother's back, to see clearly. Sunghoon who was an introvert guy, feeling and surprised that you know his name, mixed with awkwardness in this kind of situation, especially with strangers, but does he have to get used to it? It's Jay's brother after all.

"you know a lot don't you? Yeah He's the Park Sunghoon that you like the most" like the most? Sunghoon's face turning tomatoes, as he is puzzling. feeling like his heart Sprint away from his own beat, so you do like him? Well when fans confess they like Sunghoon, it's just a normal reaction but when He knows you like him, it's weird, different feel from those fans. or maybe he is just shy ? Or super shy?

"Hi! Sunghoon hyung it was nice to meet you, I'm M/N" bowing down in a respectful way, you suddenly switch language once you greet him, which once again makes Sunghoon feel dumb like a lost sheep. There's so much information going on here.

"O-oh yes... M/n... Good to see you. Your Korean is nice I'm Impressed" Sunghoon greet back, feeling more used to and ease once you speak to him in Korean. After all those greetings, Sunghoon just stood there, didn't know what to do next as he watched Jay and You, asking about their days.

"oh right, Sunghoon you must be wondering. Actually he was my adopted brother. We had him when I was pre-teen. But I understand most of you guys don't know about him because we like to gatekeeping him Haha well today all the members would know, don't worry—

He is half asian and europe also, that is why he has a unique style, from his head to toe isn't it cool haha. Punk style but you'll get used to it, I know ni-ki is gonna love him—

Okay I talk too much, so M/n mind if I borrow your room for a few days? For Sunghoon? All the guest rooms are full, can he stay with you" Jay state, after the small talk. Meanwhile, M/n agree to his brother request, not that he was a creep, it because of the situation, also who wouldn't? It was the Park Sunghoon.

"Sure, hyung can sleep in my room. I'm all good"

"Thanks bud, now Sunghoon? You can settle in here— oh right... Sunghoon?" Jay called, Sunghoon catches himself zooming out to your appearance, it not everyday to see someone looking good in such style, black from head to toes. Seeing such reactions makes you chuckle, as Sunghoon snapped out, ashamed with a blushing red face before getting inside to load away his stuff.

"Right, Right I hope you don't mind me M/n"

"I should say that, hehe since you're the guest, just asked me don't be shy, I'll do it"

"Thank you ha" seeing the two of you getting along well, Jay's warm smile appears as he leaves the room, and gone downstairs.

-///-

In the rest of the evening all the boys and family, get to know you better, as you introduce yourself as Jay's adopted little brother. Jay was right when he said You'd be ni-ki favorite, because once he saw you, he imma befriended you. Exchange the number, ask about your Style, and talk for hours about stuff ni-ki wanted to know. While the other member was also surprised when they realized that Jay was keeping you well in the basement for the whole time and none of them knew about it. It can also be reasonable because of that gorgeous handsome face you got there, that catches every member's attention.

Jake would ask you to chat with him in English as he wanted to learn how to talk in British too, and so is Heeseung. Your accent makes their knee weaken with that soft tone of yours.

Jungwon would also be talking to you too, asking this or that and often joking about your brother why he is a comedian in the group. Sunoo would compliment your skin tone, the skin you got on your face stunned him in a way that he can't help, but to ask what's your skin care routine.

But for Sunghoon, He just laughed and giggled along, when the members asked or talked to you. He was so shy and afraid to make conversation with, and he had nothing to talk about. He was devastated to get to know you well just like the other but then it clicks when he learns that he'll spend every night sleeping on the same bed with you.

Yet that's fine. On the first night, you asked him if he wanted to sleep on the bed alone, if he was a light sleeper you can move to the couch but Sunghoon insisted, both of them should be on the bed. He was the guest anyway he didn't want to burden anybody.

And so on, Sunghoon got a more private chance than others when it comes to talking, especially at night when it's just the two of you. Most of the time, all night he would ask this and that, and do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend, about your life and personal thing which you happily respond to. Sunghoon was your bias of course, you would tell him everything, admire his million dollar face while you talk so, people would fight for him.

As the days passed on about a week. It's time for all the 7 members to go back to Korea. You help them pack their stuff, and so do your parents and Jay. The past few days, they are spending time with you by talking, going out, shopping and the Disney land date, it was such a good snapshot in time to get to know them all better. Before they leave you give each of them a promising and memories gift to remember this precious time together, the boys happily satisfied accepted and their heart melting to the gesture. You were so sweet.

However, for Sunghoon it was different. Even though it's just a simple gift he clearly enjoys more than the rest, and he promised he will cherish this gift for a long time.

"Thank you m/n letting me stay in your room, you're so... Cool and nice, sweet, like Jay. Here, I have my PC card haha I know it's not much but I hope you like it" gasp, you feel like you're about to ascend up to heaven as Sunghoon gives you back a gift, a rare PC card that you wised to have.

"oh my GOSH thank you hyung, I love it so much thank you woah it's sighed? I'm going to be crazy!!"

Laughing. Everyone finds the moment cute and adorable as you express yourself as a fan. Soon the time will come, you wave goodbye to the seven guys as you watch them disappear in the plane.

"Good luck hyung!! See you sometime later"

"yess" they all said in unison, enter the aircraft with a warming heart. On the way, Sunghoon can't help but to say it out loud.

"I like him, Jay"

"ehhh"

"No Sunghoon hyung, I like him first he was my buddy!" Ni-ki argue.

"ey ey ey he was my British guy before all of you guys, he was my first" Jake burst in playfully.

"but I do really like him, in a way"

"...."

"well— what "

[08melancholie]

Lessen your Stress. — Dutch Van der Linde/Micah Bell/Reader

tags: Post-Chapter 6: Beaver Hollow (Red Dead Redemption 2), Smut, Shameless Smut, Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Sex, Spoilers, dont read if you havent finished chapter 6, theres spoilers to it that youll regret, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Anal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm, Multiple Orgasms, Mildly Dubious Consent, Abuse of Authority, Authority Figures, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Spit as Lube, Lube, Come as Lube, precum still counts i hope, Not Beta Read, no beta we die like micah bell

summary: What's one way to relieve the stress of losing your family, friends and entire gang you spent decades building? Dutch assumes it's getting his best friend to fuck his other still-devoted follower with him. It's another power trip of his you will never refuse.

a/n: initially the idea was reader and micah both trying to fight over dutch but then i was like why do we have to fightttt just let them both ruin users guts..... so here we are now. disclaimer: ive literally never written a threesome, i dont know what im doing honestly.... thank you to that one user on here who inspired this.

this is my longest fic up to date... yeah okay lets go touch grass.

words: 5,043 | AO3 LINK

A heap of shouting, spilling of secrets and killing later, the three of you regroup, all alone. Death is haunting you; you almost feel their blood on your hands, for some reason. You can't pinpoint why, but you feel guilty. Might be the fact you're still following Dutch, after he got them all killed.

Dutch might have officially lost his mind, right? You sometimes really wonder how he's made it this far, with such a good gang. Well, until now anyways. It's not until now that you notice a small flip in his head; a switch turning on for the first time. He's sat across from you, only a small fire between yourselves that lights up a small fraction of the area around you; up on a mountain, a small indent into the rocks it's built of serving as a cave of sorts. You're on the other side of the fire, laying down and watching Dutch really think for the first time, in a while. Your head is supported with the satchel you carry around your torso, visibly more uncomfortable than the plush pillows inside your old tent, now left behind. Sat behind you both is none other than Micah; staying forever loyal to the black-haired man lost in his own thoughts, his own pondering whilst his eyes illuminate the fire between your bodies. Micah is quiet; in fact, everyone is. Nobody dares say a word—not you, not Micah, especially not Dutch. Dutch doesn't feel grief, oh no; that isn't what this can be. You'd think that leaving two of your sons to die even after having the choice to save them both would make a man go crazy, but Dutch is clearly too far gone for that.

The fire crackles again, and you can't stand the silence any longer, opening your mouth to speak up. "We'll be fine, Dutch. Don't stress so much."

His head perks up from the fire, the flame-ridden irises of his catch your own. "Fine?" He repeats after your reassurance—not sounding all that reassured. You swallow and nod, always feeling so small under that dark gaze of his. "I would love to have even an ounce of your optimism." He barks, and you sink even lower. Well, it was a good try, if nothing.

He and Micah share a look, and it all goes quiet again. Fire crackles; animals howl in the distance; shrubbery whistles under the small wind blowing through the area. And all is quiet.

It seems as you'll be spending the rest of the night in here, so you decide to rest your exhausted body for today. You toss over and get as comfortably as one can, making an attempt at sleeping off the sour mood and thick tension in the air.

Your slumber only lasts you a few mere hours, both the very early morning sun picking at your eyes and gloved hands on your bare skin breaking you away from the little sleep you managed yourself. You grumble, turning to lay on your back. "Get'cho ass up," Micah, standing over you, takes a step back and moves his hands off you, the leather material slipping away from your waist. You sit up and rub your knuckles into your eyes, taking your satchel from underneath where your head was and standing up. "hoping you enjoyed Colter, darlin'." Oh, Colter; if hell was an icy, snowy blizzard, you'd assume they were talking about that part of West Grizzlies.

"Don't tell me we're going back." You hold off on groaning—only briefly as Micah nods and you can't help yourself, not at all fond of going back there again. "Why West Grizzlies, anyways?" You ask, watching him kick at the burnt-out campfire from last night.

Micah stomps out the ashy, black logs, turning back over to you with a shrug. "Dutch says so." Of course he does.

You hold back on rolling your eyes. "He at least in a better mood than yesterday?" You ask, very much still remembering his bite back to your simple attempt at making the situation you three were currently in a little more bearable. Micah starts walking off while talking to you, and you follow close behind, leaving the makeshift cave.

"Wouldn't put ma' money on it," He responds, voice getting quieter the closer he leads you towards Dutch—smoking a cigar, per the usual—and your three horses. "don't test yer luck, hm?" He gives a low chuckle, and you just sigh. Snow; low temperatures; blizzards; all things you wanted to leave and forget in Colter. But, here you were.

Dutch gives an acknowledging nod to both of you, which you swiftly return. "We ready to go, then?" Micah gives him another nod, and walks up to Baylock. You follow to your own horse, petting it briefly before getting up onto the saddle, mounting up as the two of them soon do the same.

The three of you start the long journey back up towards the mountains; almost feeling that familiar deja-vu-feeling kicking in.

The ride is long and definitely not friendly; the moment your horses get you to the snow, the wind picks up and so does the snow, plowing down on all six of you. It's almost unbearably annoying, having to ride with one hand on your reins and one covering the top of your eyebrows to block out the snow from your vision. It's only a long while later that the three of you get up on the snow-covered mountain of your liking, finding an abandoned area with a cabin, definitely big enough for the three of you, for now.

The three of you hitch your horses safely into a small stable-like area, making sure they wouldn't be cold in their spots. Afterwards, one after another, you enter the cabin and inspect it; it's a medium-sized hut-type room, a few cots still stable enough to sleep in and a kitchen on the other side, most cabinets left open and empty. Mere minutes of searching left you with a few cans of fruit and vegetables, but between you three, hunting will definitely be a must for nourishment. At least theres a run-down fireplace you can use to warm up your shivering bodies. Dutch sends Micah to get firewood, instructing you to work with him and make the place look a bit less messy. And, three of you get to work.

It isn't exactly homey, but it'll do. Can't be picky now, can you? You had a home, and it was Dutch's own fault everything at 'home' went to shit.

It's been about a week since, and you've gotten used to the spot you three settled into, you could even start calling it home. Well, no—nothing will ever replace the home that the gang provided, but that's something you'll have to simply cope with. You're still following Dutch, so really, do you miss them that much? Your trail of thought is broken up by the sound of the creaky cabin door opening, raising the volume of the small blizzard going on outside briefly.

Dutch and Micah enter after another, closing the door of the small cabin and blocking out the sound of wind outside. Your head perks up from the small book you were examining at the sound, and you nod in greeting. "Hey," Your gaze goes back to the book until Dutch clicks his tongue at you.

"Eyes up here."

You don't take even a second to comply, meeting his eyes but occasionally drifting them to Micah. You're slightly confused, they're acting odd. "You need something, Dutch?"

"Stand up."

Every command sends a small shiver to your spine, that much is sure. You place the book down and rise from your seat on the creaky cot, taking a step towards them to stand before the two men. Your compliance and submissiveness always sends one side of Dutch's mouth up slightly. "Got a.. proposition for you. Well... Not exactly, anyways." Micah matches Dutch's dark chuckle after the leader speaks up again, both looking down at you. "Listen now, it's been pretty cold, hasn't it, my dear?" As Dutch speaks to you, your eyes stay glued on him; but you can see Micah taking slow steps away from the leader, and around you. You focus on Dutch again, nodding. "That's what we thought. You see," He then takes a step closer to you, gloved hands clasping together in front of you. "we can keep ourselves warm without wasting so much firewood." At Dutch's words, you can definitely feel Micah so much closer to you, from behind your back. You're starting to feel something bubble in your abdomen; was it nervousness, anxiety? Lust, arousal? You couldn't exactly tell.

"Tell me, my dear," Another two steps; one in front of you, one behind you. You feel like you're being circled by sharks in an ocean, hunters on prey, making you feel small again. "you're a smart girl; you do know what I mean, don't you?" Oh, you do. You know it all too well as you've imagined it one too many times—late at night in your tent, your hands on yourself underneath the blanket, muffling the moans of their names into your palm—so it's not an unfamiliar feeling. Your words seem to only fail you further the more he speaks, so you just nod again. His moustache follows the curve of his lips when that devilish smirk arises again. "Thought so. Now..."

His gloves glide over your shoulders, leather on leather as he stands right in front of you now. "And surely, you wouldn't mind trying this new warm-up with us, would you?"

Like a cat playing with a mouse it's caught, toying with it until it breaks. Except, it's two big cats and one meek little mouse. A hot breath glides down to you, right over your shoulder when Micah draws himself closer, and you feel stuck in your spot between them—even more so when Micah places his gloved hands down to your sides, almost kneading at your waist. Now, how could you ever say no? It's Dutch Van der Linde and Micah Bell. For one, you've been imagining this scenario in the comfort of your tent, late into the many nights that turned very hot, very quickly. But also, do you really have a choice? Your boss; your leader, asking such a vulgar and intimate thing of you? What would he say if you refused? Would he let you refuse? Is this all another power-trip he'll hold over your head?

No time for questions when Micah squeezes your waist to bring you back to reality. "He asked 'ya a question, doll." He purrs—its low and sultry, right next to your ear, accompanied by another knead to your body. You feel almost lightheaded by your current situation. Your hands have been unconsciously balled-up, digging into your trousers in an attempt to ground yourself. "C'mon, answer the man." And all you can manage is a nod, again. A moan would probably leave your mouth if you opened it, which.. would also be an answer. Your nod was really all it took, a silent consent more than enough for Micah's hands to travel to your hips and for Dutch's to find the sides of your neck.

"Good girl, always listening to me like this. I know you wouldn't disobey."

The feeling is indescribable, really—Micah touches you with urgency and carelessness, almost selfishly and greedily; his hands map out the contour of your body, almost as if trying to mould your curves to his liking. Dutch, however, takes it hellishly slow; thumbs brush over the front of your neck while the tips of his other fingers dig into the sides, almost as if trying to coax you to relax into whatever they have planned for you. "Oh, she's good, boss." Whenever Micah speaks, it ends up right next to your ear, and you feel that familiar shiver down your spine. An agreeing chuckle leaves Dutch's mouth, which is very close to your face; your own lips. You're clueless as to what you have to do—should you stay stiff? Touch one of them? Say anything at all to their comments and wandering touches?

Dutch's slow pace slips up when he can't hold himself back from giving himself a taste of yourself, dipping his head down to latch onto your lips. It's nice and quick, and your hands find themselves creeping up his coat and resting on his shoulders, whereas his move under your jacket and place themselves on your ribs and under your chest. Micah is pressed right up to your back now, one hand leaves your hip to move your hair away from your neck, sliding your jacket collar down as he starts to pepper the side of your neck in kisses, occasionally sucking on the skin while pressing his hips to your backside—you can already feel him through both of your clothes. Dutch takes a moment to lick your lip, coaxing you to open your mouth up for him. You comply and your lips part an opening for Dutch's tongue, hands squeezing at his shoulders.

His tongue explores around your mouth with profound efficiency; with experience. It makes the feeling in your abdomen all the more prominent, and you slowly feel a heat rushing to it. Micah isn't any worse either, the mixture of his gentle kisses, rough sucks and sometimes licks up your neck all make you more worked up than you'd ever want to imagine. He's still pressed up to your rear, hands at the very top of your outer thighs, roughly handling you like previously. Then, Dutch starts unbuttoning your jacket. Slowly, each one gets undone, and your jackets pools between yours and Micah's boots, who carefully kicks it aside, just to continue marking up your neck. His stubble and beard occasionally brushes against your sensitive neck, making you let out little sounds into Dutch's mouth. Oh, how they're enjoying this.

Dutch momentarily breaks away from you, leaving you to finally breathe in. "You know, I always liked how you followed me so blindly," Dutch's hands move up and brush over your chest, then cup both of the muscles. "it was so damn hard to not take you right then and there, in camp." You gasp and sigh when his hands start massaging and fondling you. This much foreplay has never gotten you so worked up in your life, and you can definitely feel the dampness between your legs growing with each moment. Then, Micah's hands move. They're getting impatient, seen so by the man behind you who starts groping your rear, breathing oh-so-sweetly down your neck. "I'mma have my fun with'chu, sweet thin'." His hums have goosebumps running up your body. His hands squeeze your ass a final time before moving, sliding down onto your inner thighs. You almost think that he can tell how wet you are, from the low laugh he lets out into your neck.

Impatience really overtakes both of them when they break away and start stripping. Coats, vests, undershirts, trousers; all the many layers you need to survive the coldness of West Grizzlies. Once they're almost bare, left in their underpants, they walk to one of the cots and coax you to follow, taking a seat next to each other and gesturing for you to stand in front of them. "Your turn, my dear." Dutch commands, leaning back slightly.

"Make sure to give us a good show, darlin'." Micah adds, following Dutch and also leaning back. And a good show, they shall receive. You start with your undershirt, slowly and almost teasingly unbuttoning it, exposing yourself inch by inch, moment by moment. "Oh, she's good." Micah purrs to Dutch, looking at you intently and never breaking his eyes away from your body. Dutch gives an agreeing hum, nodding to the other mans' words as you move to your jeans, shrugging your undershirt off while undoing the restraints of your jeans. You slip them off and toss both clothing articles to your jacket, standing in only your garments, now only covering your chest and mound. Their eyes are still so predatory, it's almost killing you. Then, finally, Dutch gestures with his hand for you to move closer, and you step up right in front of them. They part slightly to the side, and Micah pats the space between them on the bed. You understand instantly and comply just as quickly, sitting between them now. "Attagirl... how'd 'ya train 'er to listen so well, boss?"

Neither of them say more, as Micah leans in to get his lips onto yours himself now, kissing you with speed and want; need. Dutch's hands go to your back, fiddling with your bra to get it off of you. Oh, but the best part is Micah's hands; one reaches down between your legs instantly, swiping across your slit over your undergarments. "Oh shit, 'yer this damn wet already?" Both men laugh in sync, dark and low chuckles filling the cabin. His fingers find your clit under the fabric and start rubbing, coaxing you to moan into his mouth which you do. He loves how your meek little gasps and whimpers echo down his throat, and he rubs faster. The other hand of his tangles itself in your hair, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. Dutch finally undoes your bra clasps, working it off of you without disturbing Micah and his workings on you. Your bra is tossed elsewhere, and one of Dutch's hands instantly finds your chest, fondling one while latching his mouth onto the other. Your hands grip one shoulder of theirs each, nails digging into the skin as your moans vibrate into Micahs mouth, hips already twitching into his two fingers working your bundle of nerves perfectly. Micah only breaks himself off your lips for a brief moment, "Can't wait to see this pretty cunt stretch around me." his mouth is back on yours, and the sentence alone has you grinding into his two fingers. Where's your dignity now?

Dutch's lips kiss around your nipple, teeth graze and pull oh-so-perfectly, and you already feel like you're close. They handle you with very different paces and things in mind; Micah is clearly trying to humiliate, get you to cum for him as quick as he can to give his ego a boost. Dutch however, he's now teasing; torturously slow pace on both of your tits, yet it works you up just as well as Micah's finger and mouth. And both are equally as blissful.

"Think she's ready for us?" Micah slows his fingers down and moves away from your lips to Dutch's question.

"Oh, surely, see how she's try'na fuck herself on my fingers? Poor, little thing. Bet she wants more."

"Well," Dutch leans away from your chest, standing to get his undergarments off. It's not long before Micah follows, and you can barely look at them; nude as the days they were born, with two almost equally as big cocks twitching for you, some precum at both their tips. It's a sight. "reckon she knows what she has to do—" He turns from Micah to yourself. "—doesn't she?" You swallow. Call it practice for what's to come, literally.

You shuffle off of the bed, and your knees meet the wood floors. Their grins down at you leave your panties practically leaking your own arousal. Looking between them, unsure where to start, you choose the leader—obviously. You get on-level with his hips, placing your hands on his thighs. "Oh, now don't leave my partner out, my dear." Dutch takes one of your hands by the wrist, guiding it to Micah's lower abdomen. "Show us both some love, baby." You can barely breathe at this point, and your hands might even be trembling slightly. Now, you've given maybe one blowjob/handjob in your life; but both, at the same time? This is overwhelming. Nonetheless, can't disappoint your boss, now can you? You push your thoughts down and slide your hand around Micah's shaft, running your thumb over his precum-covered tip to slicken it slightly, while simultaneously licking a stripe up the underside of Dutch's cock, collecting the leaky substance for a taste. Their faces are full of arousal and pure bliss, they almost make you feel proud. Dutch raises a hand to run through your hair, tugging on it. "We're old, impatient men, my darlin'. Get to it."

You take half of Dutch in your mouth, and start pumping your hand up and down Micah, earning a few praising groans and another tug to your hair, trying to draw you closer. You take Dutch until he hits the back of your mouth, and you barely suppress gagging on him. Don't need to inflate his ego that much. You move and bob your head, saliva slickening Dutch's dick up and painting your lips, some gathering at the corners of your mouth. Your hand works Micah in a slightly faster pace, seeing as it's easier to pump your hand over his shaft than take one in your mouth—especially one Dutch's size. You're used to average men, so this might as well even be nice. Not so much when he'll be stretching you open, but we'll get to that problem later. You continue your demonstrations, getting both of them to groan and even chuckle sometimes, looking down at you. They always looked down at you, you knew so much—but only ever figuratively. Never literally.

It's not long before Dutch grabs your head and just fucks himself into your mouth at his pace, which makes it easier to focus on your hand that's working Micah. You increase the pace of your hand, occasionally teasing the tip to see it twitch before continuing. "Wouldn't be surprised if you was a whore before 'ya joined us, so good at this." Micah's comment should make you mad, but you're definitely more turned on than anything. "Keep working dem pretty fingers around me, 'm close." And you absolutely will.

Dutch, however, doesn't give you a warning like Micah; he suddenly cums down your throat with a groan, and you have to focus on not gagging all over his dick as it empties itself out into your mouth, and you swallow every drop like if it were holy water. Unfortunately, you're not given a breather when he withdraws his hips from your mouth, as Micah pulls your hand away from his cock and brings your closer to it, grasping your jaw and squeezing so that your lips part. "Open." You don't feel like being painted all over with his cum, so you comply instantly, and he jerks himself a few times before spilling into your mouth like Dutch, your hands finding his thighs to brace yourself.

"Damn, she's good." Dutch seats himself back on the cot with a small creak, palming himself—somehow still semi-hard. Micah lets go of your jaw after he's spent, and you can't stop yourself from coughing as you swallow practically every drop, only a few around your mouth still. Micah chuckles down at you before grabbing you by the sides, his hands grasping your waist as he brings you back to your feet. "Come on then, you ain't done yet, or are 'ya, babydoll?" You're guided over to Dutch, turned to face him as both men help position you over him to straddle the leader. Micah's hands are replaced by Dutch's ones, who immediately moves your panties off and guides your folds around his shaft to slicken himself up again. "Still practically dripping. Oh, you poor thing. We won't be selfish no longer, my dear, you shall get your own, too." His tip slides to your entrance, and you have to grasp his shoulders to keep yourself steady, your lips slightly parted in pleasure. Slowly, Dutch's tip presses into you, and you squeak out a moan as you feel that small stretch you were dreading. "I'll go slow, don't wanna split our new toy in half, do we darling?" Well, that's exactly how you're feeling, oddly enough.

You're gasping and moaning as every inch of his disappears into your slick walls, the lewd noises mixing with Dutch's small praise and breathy exhales as you sink down on his cock, feeling it twitch inside you a few times. "Good girl, taking all of me like that." He gives you a moment to adjust before lifting your hips up and slamming right back down, earning a strained moan out of you, nail indents marking his shoulders up as they dig into the flesh, which just makes him laugh. "Love how tight you are, like it's sucking me right in. Your cunt loves me stretching you out, huh." His hips slowly begin to slap against you, filling the cabin with the suggestive noises of skin-on-skin and moans.

As you finally get used to his size, you feel hands on your waist from behind. You almost forgot Micah was there, seeing how quiet he was being. Then, one hand trails down to your rear, and a thumb circles your anus. "Can't leave me out again, can 'ya?" His thumb slowly draws itself into you, and you have to bite down on Dutch's shoulder. Jesus, you did not expect them to try and fuck you at the exact same time, even less from behind. He briefly extracts his thumb to spit at your entrance, circle it and then stick it right back in, trying to loosen your muscles up for his—much fucking bigger, may you add—member. They find a similar pace, Dutch is rutting you down onto his dick while Micah's thumb stretches your other hole out, readying it for his cock which is already leaking in anticipation. You brace yourself when he moves his thumb out and spits again, this time on his own cock to moisten it up again, mixing the saliva with his precum. Then, his tip slaps against your ass a few times, before it slides to your opening. Dutch has slowed his thrusts down to let Micah get in as well, and you haven't stopped biting at his shoulder since you started, almost drooling around it. Even if it's only the tip, as soon as Micah eases it in, you shudder and gasp into Dutch's flesh, biting down harder as your asshole feels every little stretch it's getting from Micah's thick cock. Thankfully, it's sliding in somewhat-easily after a few moments, Dutch's hands squeezing your hips as he shushes you to relax you, and Micah's caressing your backside as he slowly sinks into you.

The first thrust is the worst, obviously. You almost immediately shiver when Micah slowly slips out of you, to the tip, before drawing his hips right against your ass again. Dutch coos into your ear to keep you collected as Micah gets you used to his size, kissing your slightly sweaty spine briefly. "Come on, 'ya can take me, girlie." He sinks his whole length into you, almost as breathless as you. Then, they slowly find a synced pace and fuck into you from both holes as you gasp against Dutch's shoulder and shudder into him. "We'll let'cha cum too, don't worry doll." Micah slides a hand over to your abdomen, and his thumb circles your clit once more. You're on cloud nine—hell, you've never been high, but it's probably similar to this feeling. Your holes are tight around their cocks, all three now audibly gasping and moaning in sync. It's possibly the lewdest trio you've ever heard. With how they're thrusting into you, you're reduced to a goddamn mess; gasping, moaning their names, your cunt and anus tightening and squeezing, your mouth open and tongue slightly sticking out—you look like a dog, almost. Their bitch, that's for sure. From now on, anyways. You don't see how this could ever be a one-time-thing.

You can feel your orgasm building again, and you've honestly been doing pretty well, all things considered. "Can't cum in that pretty cunt, but I can back here." Micah's comment runs goosebumps over your body, and you already dread the feeling of that. His breath brushes over your skin as he kisses up your back again, reaching the nape of your neck and grazing his teeth over it, all while his hips slam into your ass. Dutch is stroking your sides, his cock twitching even more inside you. He's close—Micah's close—you're close—you might all just come at the same time.

That's exactly how it goes down. You're first to hit your orgasm, one that causes you to squeeze around their cocks once more, which is enough for both of them to hit their peaks with you, Micah staying buried deep in your guts while Dutch pulls out and jerks himself dry over your mound and his stomach, gasping for air in sync with you. Micah draws his spent member out of your asshole slowly, some of his cum leaking out and down your thigh. He takes a breather on your back and hugs around your waist, heaving into your spine. Your body relaxes over Dutch's, who can barely hold all three of you up. It takes all three of you a moment of no movement to calm down from your highs, before Micah is first to move off your back and help you off Dutch, slowly seating you next to him. "Well, goddamn, princess. Dutch was right; 'ya didn't disappoint for even a moment." He hums, getting to the nightstand and tossing a rag over your stomach. He shuts the drawer and sits down next to you, cleaning Dutch's spent off of your stomach while you gather your thoughts, before wiping his shaft and tossing it over to Dutch.

"I'm sure you know we aren't leaving you be after that performance, my dear." Dutch adds as he wipes him self clean, and you just wordlessly nod, laying back slightly. "I guessed so." He chuckles, and Micah chimes in with his own breathy laugh, standing to walk over and grab everyone's clothes, giving them out to you and Dutch before starting to get dressed himself.

And you're damn sure you won't want to stop anytime soon either.

Kudos on AO3 appreciated, as always! This fic killed me omg its my longest one up to date and its got me in a chokehold. fuck i wanna be between them so bad.

[slutoru1207]

Nowhere to Run pt 2

GIF by red-rift

Mohawk Mark x Reader

The silence stretches between you and Mohawk Mark like a tense wire, but it's broken by the sound of his stomach growling loudly. It’s the kind of growl that could be heard by a mile away, echoing over the barren landscape like a dying animal’s last plea for food.

Mark winces, then shoots you a sideways glance. "Not my fault," he mutters defensively, as if you were somehow responsible for his digestive issues. "You wouldn’t believe how much energy it takes to look this good all the time."

You snort despite yourself, arms crossed tightly as you eye the horizon. "Yeah, I’m sure it takes a lot of energy to look like you just woke up in a dumpster after a bender."

"Hey," Mark says, raising an eyebrow. "I’ll have you know that I’m the pinnacle of rugged charm. These things take time. This?" He gestures to himself dramatically, "This is perfection in motion."

"Uh huh," you deadpan, scanning the wasteland for anything that could pass as a food source or even a way out of here. "If perfection means looking like you fought a rockslide and lost, then yeah. You’re totally perfect."

Mark chuckles, but the sound is short-lived as another growl erupts from his stomach, sounding almost ashamed.

"Okay, okay, you win," he says, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "But seriously, if we're gonna make it out of here, we need to find food. And I'm pretty sure you're not gonna find a McDonald's in this hellhole."

You squint at the desolate landscape, considering your options. "Well, unless you're planning to make some weird version of a rock salad, I don't think we're getting anything here. You're gonna have to survive on whatever wild survival instincts you have."

Mark gives a small sigh, muttering, "Great. Just what I need—survival training with you." But then he smirks. "I mean, I'm sure you'll be useful. You probably know how to catch a rabbit or something."

"Yeah, sure. And I'm sure you know how to make fire with your charming personality."

"I could," he counters, turning to face you fully now, his eyes gleaming with the same cocky confidence, "but I’m gonna need a good campfire companion to keep me entertained. You up for the challenge?"

"God help me," you mutter under your breath. "I’d rather deal with a mutant bear at this point."

The moment passes in a stretch of silence, and you both just stand there in the middle of nowhere. The tension between you is palpable, yet there's something oddly comfortable in the banter, as if this dysfunctional, sarcastic dynamic could be the only thing holding your sanity together in this vast, lonely wasteland.

Mark finally shakes his head and groans. "Look, we need to figure this out. And unless you’re secretly a survival expert, we’re gonna have to work together. But only because I’m feeling generous."

You snort. "Yeah, that’s definitely the reason."

"Yeah," he says, cracking his neck, "So, what’s the plan, huh? You got anything in that head of yours?"

You hesitate, narrowing your eyes at the horizon. "I don't know, you got any ideas besides annoying the hell out of me?"

His smirk returns. "Well, I was thinking we could wait for a dragon to fly by and swoop us out of here. Or... we could, y'know, just walk."

You blink at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious or just completely insane. "Oh sure, that’ll totally work."

Mark shrugs, still with that damned smirk on his face. "Hey, no harm in dreaming, right?"

You’re about to retort when your stomach rumbles, an embarrassing reminder that you haven’t eaten in hours either. You glance over at Mark, who’s still looking at you with a faintly amused expression.

"Alright, fine," you mutter. "We’ll walk. But if we end up eating dirt for dinner, I’m blaming you."

"Deal," Mark says, offering you an exaggerated bow. "Lead the way, oh wise survival expert."

You roll your eyes but can't suppress a small smile as you start walking, knowing this journey’s going to be anything but boring.

[spaghettixdemon]

J Stands for more words than one PT.1

“While introducing his new girlfriend to the team, JJ is automatically confronted with her feelings for Spencer when they begin to get in the way of things"

DISCLAIMER You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Minors do not interact. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read it.

Warnings: Drinking/Drunkenness, P in V, getting freaky in a car, fighting, slight mentions of death, Jealousy??

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

This was originally in my Google Doc but I seem to have lost access to it :( SO I am re-writing it! (I will definitely add more chapters bc omg this is long)

part 2 here | part 2.5 here | part 3 here

—————————————————————————————————

"Alright anndd finally done!" Emily turned to JJ, clapping her hands together and beaming. Today was a paperwork day, and everyone had been working until the late hours. "These reports are killing me...I've been on the same one the majority of the day..." JJ spoke to Emily with a sigh and a slight smirk playing on her lips. Yes, JJ had been stuck on the same case most of the day, but it wasn't just the amount of work, no. That wasn't the only reason her day was moving so slowly.

Right across from her desk, in perfect view, was Spencer Reid- their little resident genius. His legs were crossed in his office chair, his curly hair fell in front of his eyes, and his long, slender fingers traced down the written report, scanning every word and spreading it within seconds effortlessly. JJ had always been close with Spencer- because of their tight-knit team, their ages, and of course, the butterflies she would get around him. They were the two closets in age at the BAU, so maybe that was part of the reasoning behind her crush, but honestly, she just thought he was very attractive.

So earlier today, when Spencer was talking on his phone nonstop, JJ was confused. Spencer was not a fan of technology, thinking back on how it took Spencer literal years to finally sign up for an email address. So, whatever was keeping Spencer on speed dial on the other line clearly didn't bother him too much. JJ would sneak glances towards her coworker hourly, taking in his body language and how he seemed to be head over heels. He would fidget and spin in his office chair as someone talked to him, he had a faint blush on his cheeks, and a smile plastered on his face. In all actuality, she'd never seen Spencer look so dopey- maybe he truly was just happy right now, but the emotions on his face surprised her.

"Hey lover-boy, what's going on over here?" JJ shot her head down, burying her face in her work. It was Derek who popped the question already on JJ's mind. Derek crossed his arms and leaned against Spencer's desk as Spencer looked up at Derek. Rolling his eyes and hanging up the phone, Spencer set the phone down on his desk. "Was that a girl on the other end of the line? I don't think I've ever seen you so happy to pick up a call at work." Both men laughed as Spencer grew a little quiet, sheepishly shrugging. "I mean- yeah, actually, you're right for once." Spencer laughed as an expression of excitement and shock plastered onto Derek's. "Wow really?" He laughed, a little in disbelief "Congrats man! That's awesome!"

JJ watched as the two guys hugged and discussed Spencer's new girlfriend. Weirdly, JJ felt a pang in her chest of embarrassment...or more like frustration. Why? She wasn't sure. JJ could read anyone within minutes, but she could never read her own emotions that well.

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

Days had passed, and work was pretty much back to normal. Normal meaning JJ wasn't constantly hearing about Spencer's new girlfriend, who he adored so much. It was cute, yeah, and she did feel happy for the man and his newfound love, but it would get pretty repetitive after a while. Derek and Penelope, in particular, would not let up on the subject. It was cute when Penelope giggled and twirled her hair when asking about this girl, but the way Spencer would drop information on her so easily was frustrating.

Penelope beamed, ecstatic over all this new news. Then, looking at Derek, she gasped and clapped her hands together. "You should bring her here! We could all meet her it would be so nice..!" Spencer looked a little uneasy. The few times his relationship did start getting this serious, work would interfere and often kill the relationship. Though, Derek backed up Penelope and agreed it would be fun.

"I don't know guys...That might be a little intense..." JJ heard this and thought over the idea in her head. Meeting the girl Spencer was so enamored by might be interesting...to say the least. She looked up and smiled at the three talking. "No Spence you should totally bring her in! I want to meet this girl!" Spencer gave JJ a hesitant look, visibly thinking over the interaction in his head. He slowly smiled and rolled his eyes, looking at the three before him. "Ok Ok..I'll bring up the idea and if she's cool with it, I'll bring her here next Friday"

Penelope and Derek cheered while JJ sat there, smiling quietly. She clapped her hands together and sighed "Amazing! I can't wait".

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

The week that followed that conversation wasn't a pleasant one. The team had traveled out of state to work on a pretty gruesome case- Spencer, in particular, had a rough time during the case. He should be used to the horrible feelings that came with the job, but it was never really easy dealing with death so often.

The team had thankfully made it back to base Friday, and everyone was exhausted. They spent the day quietly filling out paperwork and trying to unwind as they worked into the early hours of the night. Around 7pm, Spencer got a call. JJ noticed this in particular because of how eager he was to answer the phone. A small smile appeared on his face, and the faint blush was back. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, hanging up the call with a simple goodbye.

Spencer looked around at his friends as the smile on his face grew. "My Girlfriend is apparently downstairs in the lobby! ...I was thinking of bringing her up is everyone ok with that?" The office was suddenly filled with energy again, and everyone seemed to wake up. JJ in particular, shot her head up and looked at Spencer, a little shocked. She had completely forgotten this would be happening...She made eye contact with Spencer and looked a little hesitant as she spoke up. "um...yeah that would be great..!"

"Yes, PLEASE bring her up! I need some fun to distract me from all this work." Penelope popped her head out of her office as she spoke to Spencer. Spencer looked a little confused by what JJ had said but smiled and nodded anyway. He slowly made his way towards the elevator, a bit of pep in his step.

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

Everyone in the office had quickly wrapped up what they had been working on and made their way to the office cubicles to meet this girl Spencer was so into. Penelope pulled up a chair next to JJ and beamed. "Are you excited to meet her?" JJ...still felt very conflicted. Just earlier that week, when they had been solving the case, She was staying in the hotel room next to Spencer's. She thought about how she ran into him shirtless and wearing sweatpants. He apologized and made his way inside his room, but she felt so conflicted.

She wasn't upset that he was shirtless...definitely not...but something about getting caught off guard like that made her blush. She remembered the feeble nerd she used to work with. He was in his mid-twenties and looked so new to the BAU world. Now, the man she saw earlier that week and today was a bit different. He had toughened up more and was a bit more muscular- not to a Derek level, but he definitely wasn't feeble anymore.

"Something like that" JJ mumbled to Penelope, a faint blush on her face. Penelope was about to question JJ, just as an elevator 'dinging' noise saved her. Everyone's attention was on the elevator and who was inside.

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[rhiannonsknife]

heyyy first of all, i just needed to say that your writing is soooo fucking good like i was genuinely impressed when you said that english isn't your first language because I can't imagine how this could get any better. Also, it isn’t only about the way you write but also the way you just get each character perfectly. That's just... woah, just woah. So yeah, I hope you keep on writing for a long time for the sake of everyone's happiness lol

And lastly, you remembered us about how you also write for the rest of the yellowjackets, not that I don't enjoy the whole "let's give love to all ella purnell's characters" thing going on here buuuut i remembered one scenario has been in my mind for a while and I'd love if you wrote about it.

Shauna, after losing so much to the wilderness, carries this relentless, overwhelming anger that keeps most of the other girls at a distance. Even those who aren't outright scared of her still know better than to get too close. She obviously needs love and comfort, but god help anyone who tries to say that to her. And then r decides to take a shot, carefully inching closer without setting her off. Slowly but surely, r makes progress. First, just being allowed in Shauna's space, then a hand on her shoulder, brushing her hand, maybe even touching her hair. When Shauna finally lets her guard down, r sees just how touch-starved she really is, how deeply she needs someone to just be there, to be her person.

Shauna and r start disappearing for hours, slipping off to somewhere, maybe the airplane, where r can pepper her face with kisses, making her feel safe. And Shauna just lets herself melt in those moments, holding r close.

my mind just goes ogdofgkditwukymg w her

── NO ONE COULD SAVE ME BUT YOU

— summary: shauna shipman needs a hug. that’s it. that’s the summary.

— warnings: hurt/comfort. canon typical dark themes. implied cannibalism (duh). child loss. etc. so: angst. some fluff. did not beta-read this. + i had no clue how to start or end this fic.

— a/n: woah thank you so so much!! i genuinely appreciate that <3 i’m not planning on stopping any time soon! anyway, i hope you like how this turned out!!

out here, she’s lost everything. you all know it, though none of you dares to actually talk about it. it doesn’t come as much of a surprise that she’s beginning to lose herself too. it’s concerning all the same.

shauna still gets her chores done, so it is not like you don’t have her support in this poorly built system, this attempt to keep things under control when -really- all last restraints of control were lost the morning you’d found jackie’s body, buried in the snow, and with all that came after that. the things no one ever speaks about.

perhaps that is why none of the girls have approached her yet: as long as she does what she’s supposed to do, why would anyone try and cross her, or potentially upset her? after what she’s done to lottie, it’s no surprise. sometimes, in moments during which you find yourself staring at her hands for reasons beyond you, you can see the flash of a scar, standing out against the thin skin of her knuckles.

maybe they’re scared of her. or scared of what she’s become, out here. it doesn’t make a difference. maybe you should all be scared of what you’ve become.

either way, it’s not fair. you obviously know that she needs the same comfort some of the other girls have found in each other, whether shauna wants to admit it or not.

so you -with nothing better to do for the most part- make it your mission to be this comfort for her.

at first, shauna gives you short, cold responses when you try to make small talk, but you keep at it. there’s nowhere to go anyway, nowhere she could flee to get away from your slightly awkward attempts to just talk. it’s a first step.

gradually, you notice her replies get a little longer, her posture softens, just slightly, and she doesn’t seem so quick to brush you off. a small sign, but it means you’re beginning to earn her trust. you don’t talk, not always. sometimes, you’ll just linger nearby and watch her prepare the last remaining pieces of meat or sit in the same room as she scribbles in the journal she’s brought from home.

sitting with shauna in silence becomes its own form of closeness; she doesn’t say much, but she lets you be near her. you can’t remember, now that you think about it, when she was last hugged. when she last felt the touch of another person. your heart aches at this realization. could it have been jackie? it already feels like a whole lifetime ago, that she'd been among the group.

over time, she actually starts letting you sit close enough that your legs touch. you hope it’s her way of saying that maybe she doesn’t mind your presence as much as she lets on.

one day, after a particularly hard night, you take a chance and rest a hand on shauna’s shoulder. you’ve noticed, even from a distance, that she doesn’t sleep well. truthfully, no one out here does. but, with your makeshift mattress closest to the spot she’s preoccupied in the farthest corner of the room, you often notice the way she flinches in her sleep, or shoots up in the middle of the night, panting heavily.

when you notice it that night, you slip out of the more or less comfortable ‘warmth’ of your blankets and make your way over to her.

she tenses, but for a moment, she doesn’t pull away. her silence feels like a monumental moment, a sign that she’s slowly starting to let her walls down. you sit like this, hidden by the darkness of the cabin and with none of the others awake, for a long moment. neither of you moves, neither of you even dares to breathe, afraid it’ll pass by as fast as it has come. then, she shrugs away from your grip and mutters: “i’m fine”. she’s not, obviously. but you take it as a small victory. you’ve felt the way she relaxed under your hold, the way she didn’t immediately push you away.

as weeks pass, you notice shauna becoming less and less guarded in your presence. she’s still wary, still sharp, but you can sense the small shifts, a quiet murmur here, a shared look there, that suggest she’s warming up to having you close.

maybe that night is what’s to blame, or maybe she’s genuinely beginning to realize how much she craves the warmth of another person. your warmth.

it’s one of these days where she’s angrily scribbling down words into her journal when shauna reaches a first ‘breaking point’. she’s sitting beside you in silence, the weight of the wilderness and the day pressing down on both of you. the only noise is the angry scrape of her pencil against paper. in a rare moment of boldness, you reach out, brushing a strand of her hair back from her face.

you’re not sure why you do it. but shauna seems so far away from everything, so detached from the reality you live in, that you just want to offer her something grounding.

her first reaction is to freeze, her eyes widening with a flicker of surprise, and you nearly pull your hand away, wondering if you’ve overstepped. but instead, shauna lets out a breath and holds still, allowing you to tuck the strand behind her ear. as your fingers brush her cheek, you can feel her breath catch, her defenses lowering just a little. it’s a brief, fragile moment, but one that feels much bigger to you: an unspoken acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, she’ll allow more of this.

that’s when things begin to change: shauna starts looking for you after difficult moments, lingering by your side in ways that tell you she needs someone, even if she won’t say it; too stubborn to ever admit it out loud. she lets you take her hand quietly, her thumb rubbing yours a wordless promise that, just for a while, she’ll let you be her safe place.

it becomes routine for you and shauna to disappear to some quiet spot when the cabin feels too heavy. no one has figured you out yet, although you’re sure that they can put two and two together by now: tai has caught your eye, the last time you sneaked off together and lottie has long claimed that the wilderness has its fucked up ways of communicating with her. whether any of it is true or not, something about the glances she shoots in your direction tells you that she knows. that she might even appreciate it, though that could just be because she won’t be the outlet for shauna’s anger anymore.

after a particularly tense exchange with the others, she brushes past you, muttering, “let’s go.” you follow her immediately, of course, and the two of you wind through the forest until you reach the plane’s wreckage. inside, it’s silent and dim, a place that’s somehow managed to become a safe haven. the last reminder of civilization, somewhere far far away from you.

shauna lets herself lean back against the metal frame, shoulders dropping in relief, her usual guarded expression softening as you sit close beside her.

she doesn’t say anything, but her hand finds yours, squeezing it tightly, as if she’s grounding herself in your presence. then, in a rare show of vulnerability, she leans her head on your shoulder, her eyes closing as she lets out a shaky sigh. you wrap an arm around her, pull her closer, and let her melt into you, feeling her tension slowly give way as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.

together, you stay like that for hours, just holding each other. shauna curls into your arms, letting herself fully relax in the quiet. you actually dare to cradle her head and press gentle kisses to her forehead, feeling her melt into your embrace, and trusting you in a way she hasn’t trusted anyone else in a long, long time.

“you’re…you’re way too soft for this place, you know that?” you hear her whispering. she doesn’t stop you, though.

when it’s time to return, shauna doesn’t say a word but gives you a look that says it all: gratitude, trust, and something almost like relief.

even when you’re not together, shauna’s glances toward you become longer, her eyes lingering with something that remains unspoken, as if she’s trying to understand this newfound feeling.

around the others, she is still hesitant to be openly affectionate. in the cabin, it is only late at night, when it’s just the two of you, that she lets herself fall into your arms. It’s the only time she allows herself to be unguarded, clinging to you silently as if afraid you’ll vanish too if she lets go.

that same night, you catch a quiet confession under her ragged breath. she’s facing the other way, letting you spoon her from behind. only this way, does she dare to open up about how everything seems to slip away from her. she’s scared but hides it behind anger and frustration. you’re the first person allowed to see her tears.

you can’t even begin to imagine what she’s going through. all the things she’s been robbed of: girlhood, like all of you. even if you’re ever rescued (which seems less likely with every day that passes) how are you supposed to move on? how are you supposed to live, like none of this ever happened? her best friend, who no one dares to talk about anymore, afraid it’ll bring back the things you’ve done. it’s like she was never here at all which, you think, must be even worse. motherhood, too, though she never even wanted it. no one seems to acknowledge that, out of everyone out here, she might just be the one to have lost everything to the wilderness.

in an attempt to comfort her, you trace mindless shapes against the back of her hand, slowly soothing her back to sleep. the letters of her name, a loopy S, gliding across her scarred knuckles with a tenderness so contrary to everything these hands have done. your own name, next. you hear a gentle chuckle coming from shauna. she knows what you’re doing, of course. you don’t stop.

the outline of wiskayok, as you remember from the map. she doesn’t seem to recognize this one, a little crease between her brows. “home” you tell her quietly and the crease vanishes.

it feels surreal that, somewhere out there, home is still a place. that wiskayok still exists to the people, to your families, your classmates, and everyone else back there. that it’s more than just a fading memory.

“you suck at drawing” she finally manages. it’s the first time you can hear the glimpse of amusement in her voice.

“what? you think you’re any better?” you whisper quietly, wanting it to last.

shauna shifts beside you, and takes your hand with a gentleness you didn’t think she possessed still.

now it’s your turn to lay back and feel. she starts with words. “yellowjackets” she spells out. a small smile flashes over your features as shauna studies your face attentively. then, though it’s harder to make out, she traces the word: “champions”. your heart feels heavy with everything that could’ve been.

shapes are next: a tiny heart, resembling the shape of jackie's necklace, then a simple circle.

"that's a soccer ball" she whispers expertly. for the first time, you laugh. it only lasts a short moment before you remember where you are, and that the others are trying to sleep just a couple of meters from you.

you fall asleep with her hand in your own, as both of your eyes grow too tired and you drift off together.

other nights, when she’s fast asleep and -for once- doesn’t seem haunted by nightmares, you find yourself watching over her. it’s the only time you get to see her the way she’d once been: when her features aren’t tense or pained, but relaxed. when she’s the girl you met at the very first soccer practice years ago, who hasn’t known any of the things that’ll happen to her in this lifetime. you stay up all night, only realizing how much time has passed when light starts spilling into the cabin and she stirs up.

you know shauna hates being pitied. so while you do feel for her, instead of asking if she’s okay, you just stay close, offering your warmth and presence. when shauna’s frustration bubbles over, she lets herself scream or cry in your arms, knowing you won’t turn her away. you hold her tightly all through the waves of emotions, murmuring quiet reassurances, and she clings to you, even as she struggles to accept that someone genuinely cares.

“everyone else… they don’t understand. they couldn’t. but you-“ she murmurs softly. “you’re the only one who sees me. the only one who wants to.”

shauna begins to show subtle signs of protectiveness over you, too: always looking out for you and offering the little comforts she can manage. even though her gestures are often quieter than yours, and less obvious, she's found her own way of showing she’s come to care for you, and that she’s willing to fight for you as much as you’re willing to be there for her out there!! <3

[3cremepie3]

Hi!! I don’t know your boundaries for writing fics so please let me know and ignore my request!! But I wanted to know if I can request an idia smut fic with a bimbo typa gal reader!! If that makes any sense😞 she basically teases him so much it ends to them in the bedroom!!

Sweat Pea

Sypnopsis - Idia teaches (fem) Bimbo reader a lesson after she teases him at a picnic.

Warnings - bimboism, dryhumping, cursing, expeditionilism, slight degradation

A/n - Since I already made a similar fic i decided to change up your prompt a bit. Sorry this took so long I actually hate Bimbo readers (that's the reason I got on tumblr in the first place) but I tried my best.

You loved summertime. You could wear all the cute outfits you wanted and not get cold. Well, you could get bit alive by mosquitos but Idia not wanting to see your pretty body marked up by anyone but him had a solution for that. An anti-bug bracelet that repelled them. God you loved your boyfriend he was brilliant.

But some of the things he did had you stuck in a state of wonder. "Why did you wear a sweater it's like 90 out here," you questioned. "I don't like showing my skin," he admitted. "But I love your skin deathly pale is so in style," you insisted. You pulled him into a tight hug.

His hands stayed at his sides not knowing where to grab since you were practically exposed everywhere. "I get that it's a picnic but damn did you have to wear that," he asked. "Of course, you brought it for me Idia."

He was referring to a pair of overalls he brought you that happened to be booty shorts. "But those are for cosplay." Yeah and I'm cosplaying a farmer girl don't you like my fit?" You did a 360 spin for him making sure to show off your cowgirl boots. "Everyone else loved my outfit don't be a hater."

"They loved your tits and ass, not your outfit," he sighed. "You’re acting like you don't feel the same way," you smirked. By now the cookout line had finally allowed you to be first. You picked up a hotdog some baked beans and a Pepsi which was a perfect cookout meal in your eyes.

Idia stuck with his monster and a sandwich. You picked a place to eat underneath a faraway tree since you knew he already had anxiety about coming to a school event. Practically everyone was there even Malleus showed up. He laid out his hoodie as a picnic blanket for you both to sit on. "Wow such a gentlemen." He blushed a bit crossing his arms. You sat enjoying your food until you noticed his stares.

"What are you looking at Idia I can see you I'm not blind," you giggled. "Nothing." You could tell he was lying the tips of his hair were developing into a pink. "Your hairs turning whats the matter." You turned to face his eyes that refused to meet yours. He took a bite of his hotdog to distract himself.

You noticed a bit of ketchup that fell on his chin. So you licked it up in an instant climbing on top of him to do so. You didn't think anything of it but he must've. "Chat no way that just happened in front of the whole school." What's the problem with I'm on top of you all the time?"

Others around you on other picnic blankets heard you and snickered. "I just lost over a million aura points," he huffed. You climbed off of him watching as he quickly sat up. "No Idia don't leave I'm sorry." You grabbed his leg pulling him back closer to you. He stood looking down at your begging form.

You got on your knees ready to beg for his forgiveness but his dick took your fluttering eyelashes as a sign of something else. "Get up," he demanded. You were shocked at his sudden change of tone. "Huh?" I said get up."

And you got up grabbing his hoodie and leaving your shared picnic area. You followed behind him like a lost puppy tugging at his arm. The lanky thing was strong pulling away from your grasp. Looks like your picnic was getting cut short. You were sad to leave so early but happy to be greeted by Ignihyde's harsh Ac.

“There was only an hour left why didn’t we stay,” you sighed. “You were doing so good Idia around all those people!” Your sweaty body felt like it entered heaven as you collapsed on Idia's bed. “God you’re so dense,” he mumbled. “No im not,” you yelled.

“Yes, you are.” His hands swiped at your boots removing them completely. "Thanks for that they were so uncomfortable. “Take a guess why I wanted to leave?” Because you’re scared of being around a bunch of normies?”

His face fell into a straight one. “That’s a factor.” Hmm or maybe it’s because you weren’t hungry? Or maybe it’s because you were too hot. Or actually, it could be because you wanted to game early?”

“I wish that brain of yours would work properly sometimes,” he hissed. “If I was that naive then life would be a bliss for me.” He grabbed your face squishing your cheeks together. This forced you to look up at him.

This time you could see a clear view of his blushing face. It was a deep scarlet color and this time it clicked in your brain that it wasn’t just from the heat. “Ohhh! It’s like that!” You should’ve just told me my sweets.” Your hands wrapped behind his head pulling his body into yours.

“You know I would’ve taken care of you right there.” You kissed him on the forehead and he whined. “Of course, you would’ve whore,” he remarked. “It would’ve helped you get over your fear of people. It could’ve been like conclosure therapy.”

Idia laughed his pale face lighting up in delight. “It’s exposure therapy dumbass.” Whatever you know what I meant.” You stuck your tongue out at him since he was such a know it all. He chuckled before catching it with his.

You shared a quick kiss before he broke it off. You whined wanting it to continue. “You’re so stupid.” He said in between heartfelt kisses. “No, you’re just brilliant. Child prodigy head ass,” you yapped. “If you failed the first grade just say that,” he joked.

“Hey you know that’s a sensitive topic,” you pouted. “Sorry babe if I knew you then I would’ve helped you cheat.” I know you would’ve I’m so thankful for you!” You pulled him in for a tight hug and for a while, you stayed comfy his weight on top of you.

“Wanna show me how thankful you are?” You smiled up at him “And why should I?” Because I’m the reason you're passing now. Remember those pre-programmed glasses I made you? Cause I remember them pretty well.” His hands began to feel up sides trapping you.

“Ha fine I guess you deserve some credit.” Let’s switch,” you asked. Soon you were on top of him demanding kisses. His dick felt as though it could burst through his jeans being contained for so long.

But you showed no compassion dry humping him. He had on a thin pair of sweats that you could feel everything through. But your Jean shorts limited you so you slipped off the over alls and your shirt while you were at it.

No matter how many times you got undressed he was still as amazed as the first time. You really were all his. You confirmed that by grounding your clothed cunt down faster on him. “Feels good,” you moaned. Idia watched as you left more and more of a prominent stain on his pants. You weren’t the only one as the amount of pre he was leaking could lube you up for days.

“We could’ve done this at the picnic you know,” you hinted. “There was blankets and we were in a secluded place.” But if someone walked by,” Idia hesitated. “You probably would’ve came right then. You imagined that you were both still in the picnic location. You sat under an oak tree that would’ve hidden your bodies.

You could’ve had his fingers in your mouth keeping your lips from singing praises for others to hear. But your boyfriend was shy. “No I wouldn’t have,” he muttered. “Don’t think I don’t pay attention to you Idia. I may be stupid in school but when it comes to you…

“I know how much you like it when I wear slutty shit in public. I can always feel how warm you get when I’m close to you. I can see your eyes wander to my thighs. Like just say you want to bend me over there and I’ll spread right then and there,” you challenged.

He groaned hiding his face in his hands. “Fuck your such a slut.” He bit his lips trying to hide the sounds he was making. “It’s okay to admit my shamelessness attracts you I’m the same with you.” I know much you cream your pants to the thought of me.” Your clit rubbed against him so well that you held onto his shoulders for support.

You placed your forehead on his awaiting an answer from his eyes. His yellow ones met yours angrily. His hand slapped against your ass and didn’t wait for the recoil to stop before he hit it again and again. You yelped at the sting your pussy pooling through the material of your panties.

“I shouldn't have to keep putting you in your place.” His other hand dug into your side holding still in a bruising grip. “But you can just shut up.” He plopped you down on the bed. Now he was back on top pulling your panties to the side. His pants and cock we’re soon to follow. You watched the familiar sight and you clenched imagining him entering you.

But he didn’t instead he thrusted onto your bundle of nerves. You shook as he thrusted forward everywhere but your aching slit. “Stop teasing you know I want you.” Your hand attempted to line his cock up with you. But it was quickly grabbed and strapped up above you.

“Fuck I’m close guess your just gonna have to wait.” You looked up your eyes begging him to give you mercy. But he never did his cock just smeared your juices around as it missed it mark. You felt an orgasm silently approaching. But you knew Idia was already soon to blow his breath ragged and every word coming out his mouth being a cuss.

“Fine, you were waiting awhile to cum .” You gave in letting him use you until he stained your stomach with stringy cum. His fat cock lost its Harding but stayed near your cunt. He took a moment to catch his breath before cackling.

You looked up with tears in your eyes. “Why did I get with a villain,” you wondered. “I’m not the bad guy here,” he growled. “Miss fuck in public you don’t always get what you want sweet pea.” None of that mattered you were 100% gonna fuck him in public no matter how many years it took you.

[yuh-l8t]

its villain Kirishima

villan Kirishima who stalks you and your every move bc he just can’t resist a pretty lil thing who looks like a goddess, one who could rule the world with. Villan Kirishima who hooks up with you bc let’s b honest you don’t like to watch the news and he knows it so you’d have no idea of who he is and because he finally found what he was feeling..love (more of a fuckin obsession bc he knows what soap u use and what clothing u wear EVEN your shoe size) he is OBSESSED. Villain Kirishima who starts dating you only for guys to flaunt over to u and hit on you (yes Kiri is all dressed so no one notices him bc he doesn’t want to start a whole stampede EXPETIALY in a mall) (you two have been dating for like 3 years now)

And now your at home from said mall..You were pinned to the counter as kirishima is fucking into you like a mad man (he technically is but you don't know that) you can’t make out any words because his tip is rubbing your g-spot and because his massive cock is splitting you open like your his personal cocksleeve and the only thing you can think about in this moment is how fast he’s fucking the shit out of you

Simply because he’s seen so many guys eyeing you, some of them even had the courage to come up to talk to you and ignore Kirishima, ofc he was pissed off ab it

what really set him off was when he saw said dude grab you by your waist and try to kiss you (yes it was in front of Kirishima)

OOOOO BOY WAS HE PISSED

he simply dragged you to the car and told you to wait there

meanwhile he was dragging the guy to a alleyway andddddd punched him once squatted down (he’s so hot omg) and said “if I ever see you again I will fuckin’ kill you”

the guy was fucking shaking in fear bc let’s be honest what power would our lovely kirishima have if he wasn’t intimidating and serious to those who oppose him or those who even think about his downright gorgeous (it took me half an hour trynna spell that word… the things I do for u people) girlfriend

and now he’s fucking you like there’s no tomorrow “yeah? You love it when my fat cock is in you huh? You love it when I’m deep in your pussy? You love it when I’m fucking you like this?yeah?yeah?”

you are so out of it like you could barely breathe just from how fast he’s fucking you

all because he’s soooooooooooo possessive of his pretty gal

He must keep you all to himself ( not only because your his girl but also because he’s crazy for you)

next thing that happens is that a HERO (his nemesis bakugo no I won’t go into detail bc I’m l lazyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy) Was hitting on you….BROAD DAYLIGHT anywhooooooooooooooooo

he simply went and sized up bakugo in broad daylight in front of you and ofc its you being in the middle only for you to be all confused bc you don’t watch the news

you innocently look up at Kirishima and with pure confusion you ask

“Babe..whats going on?” As you cling to him

bakugo being clearly confused

he simply looks down at you softening his gaze but still standing his ground ready to fight “ I’ll tell you later jewel..please go back to the car”

and you do because no#1 he fine af no#2bc why not? No#3 bc you want to walk

so now your in the car and your waiting patiently thennnnn something happens the guy who previously kissed you is running for whatever reason (bc kiri scared the shit outta him)

he made eye contact with you and played it off as if he were just on a jog.

he then walked up to the car you were in and tapped on the glass just to yk talk to you

you got out of the car bc you have simply lost the will to walk :/

and you start to walk around with the guy bc you simply didn’t think of the consequences of your actions smh

And so here you are ( if you want the fight tell me) walking around and clearly Kiri won the fight because yeah and he's a hottie so ofc he will win likeeee

So he was panicking because he couldn't find you

anything could have happened like you getting stolen, someone better than him takes you away, you dumped him, the hero’s took you

Whatever it was it made him mad

he jumped on rooftop of the buildings and searched

it only took him 5 minutes to find you

He looked at the guy and fucked him up

grabbed you ( he threw you over his shoulder and smacked your ass when you threw a fit)

“ you shoulda’ stayed in the car like I told you to”

“ but I don’t wannaaaa it’s boring in there! I wanna go shopping!!!!!!!”

and that earned you another smack to the ass

And here you are now

getting fucked on the counter, his tip reaching places you can’t with your dildo

him punishing your pussy

him playing with your clit and stopping and pulling out when you about to release

and no

not like the other smuts that are written he doesn’t finaly let you cum

instead he restrains you to stop you from touching and sits you across from him an you each as he pumps his dick in his hand

and you simply whine from the loss of contact

you never got that contact for the rest of the night