#someone’s gonna test me and i can’t fucking wait

[daeneryseastar]

if team green characters are actually as ‘interesting’ ‘complex’ and ‘full of nuance’ as all you obvious intellectuals claim you wouldn’t feel the need to continuously yap about it without providing any evidence to support it.

i’d rather be ‘boring’ for supporting team black than get off with whiny piss babies, rapists, violent misogynistic hypocrites, and child abusers. “b-b-but DAEMON!!” idgaf. cry harder about it.

[makkie-is-screaming]

I fucking can’t today

[aajjks]

tw/ hórny èx bf, hè ís à crèèp, nôncôn, èxplïcït ând nsfw thèmès.

It’s hard to break up with someone like him because he doesn’t get the hint- it’s been barely 6 days and he finds himself right in front of your door.

Really horny. And quite frankly messed up.

He bangs on your door- at first he’s gentle, but then he finds himself losing his patience when you don’t open up after a few bangs at your door, even with the bell It’s not working.

He just might have to be a little bit more aggressive with it. See now, he doesn’t like being aggressive with you. He knows that you hate this side of him. That’s why you broke up with him in the first place.

It’s not really a break up to him though because you’re just trying to break and he thinks that this break has lasted way longer than it should have in the first place. So he takes deep breath, and he starts banging at it like a maniac.

“Yn! YN OPEN UP!” But you don’t. You’re really trying to test his patience and then you try to lecture him on his aggressive nature.

His pupils are dilated at this point, he’s feeling so crazy right now, it’s aching and his pants, and he has missed you like crazy-staring at your pictures is not enough anymore. Not at all.

It’s your fault, you know.

It’s your fault that you’re so beautiful and that you have his heart in your hands… he closes his eyes for a moment, and then he takes out the spare keys he had to your apartment-of course, you don’t know about them, but he had a locksmith make them for him.

Without any rational thinking- he unlocks your apartment with ease.

And soon the familiar scent of your home hits him and your ex boyfriend finds himself relaxing, his head feels a little better now. “Yn!~~~” he calls out your name with affection but you still don’t respond.

Weird.

So he decides to check if you’re home. He really hopes that you are because he needs to talk to you and… a lot of other other things.

First to fall of course it’s gonna be your bedroom, his feet, take him to the familiar room so easily, because he remembers every single room in your home, like the back of his hand.

And to his surprise? He hears the shower running. A Cheshire Cat smile spreads across his lips. But before he can think anything else, the shower drops sounds come to a halt.

Oh, so you must be done..

He waits- by sitting on your bed and waiting for you to come out, and he doesn’t have to wait long, so he unzips his pants, creepy? He doesn’t give a fuck.

He needs to fuck you and get you back. He has everything you ever want. Quite frankly, you can be ungrateful. Anyone would kill to be in your place… but too bad he wants you.

And there you are, in all your wet glory-with a towel loosely wrapped around your body, you gasp, expected, in surprised to see him, he smirks.

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to scream at him, he doesn’t mind you can because he’s missed your voice a lot.

“Hi baby.” He greets you. Licking his lips, because he feels himself getting harder when he stares at your soaked, freshly washed body.

You look so sexy like this I can’t help but remember all the times he would fuck you senselessly in the shower or sometimes when you were done with it.

You’re just so irresistible. You get him so horny for no reason at all. It’s your fault and now you’re going to have to help him out.

“W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” You finally say something to him, even though you’re screaming at him like a maniac, he doesn’t mind.

“I can’t help it baby you know I love you and I can’t live without you-and I’m so horny right now.” He licks his lips again, getting up from your bed to walk towards you.

He needs to touch you right now.

“I told you you couldn’t break up with me but you thought you could.. so I just wanted to give you a little break, but I think it has lasted enough now I need you back.” He groans. You smell so good even his muscles are pulsing.

His eyes are you like a predator and You should know that you cannot escape.

He is way too strong for you.

“Come on now- look at me? I’m so fucking hard because I was thinking about you- and look at you.. fuck…” he breathes out, taking you by your waist.. but then he gets another idea.

So instead of holding you, he drops to his knees.

This is gonna get you so weak for him.

“Let me eat your pussy. Missed it so much.” He looks into your eyes when he grabs your legs. You barely manage to hold onto your towel, which was about to fall. And something switches in your eyes.

You have missed him too.

He smiles. “I bet you missed me too. Fuck- baby let me have a taste please- I’m doing this to make it up to you. I know I pissed you off, so let me make it up.” He breathes, slowly, removing the towel and he starts to tease you by rubbing his hands over to your clit.

You whimper, you’ve always been so weak for him.

He knows you need him-equally as bad as he needs you. And he’s going to make you realize it tonight. He leans his face closer to your cunt, and you grab his wide shoulders for support.

“Oh look at you baby- you’ve already started to get wet.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your thigh, and then his kisses get closer to your heat, “f-fuck. You’re so fucking bad for this.” You moan out. He knows that you’re trying to reject him still even though he knows what your heart and body really want.

Him.

“I know yn.. but fuck- you’re my bad habit.” He replies before he takes one of his fingers out of your pussy and he smashes his mouth into it- his tongue starting to eat you out.

“Nghhh fuck.” You moan as he starts to tease you again with his teeth- he’s so messy right now, all sloppy as he pushes his tongue in deeper and deeper.

That’s how you like it.

His mind is in a frenzy because the noises you’re making are purely sinful- your towel gals to the ground and your back arches.

He won’t let you fall.

He will make you cum in his tongue.

“Ugh fuck..” he groans as he eagerly laps at your juices, you’re giving him so much.

And he knows you’re already going to cum.

“A-Agh fuck don’t stop- don’t fuckin stop.” You command him and grab on his locks- that arouses him anymore- you taste so fuckin good.

He can kill anyone for you.

“O-Oh fuck- baby cum on my tongue- you can do it.” He praises you- his hands on your ass as he squeezes it, you pull on his hair.

His teeth graze your clit.

“Should I fuckin bite? Since you’re so *pants* fuckin mean to me? Nah.. I love you..” he barely manages to speak because you’re suffocating him and you’re going to cum.

“You can *pants* only cum if you come back to *pants* m-me.”

BNHA- hawks, aizawa, bakugo, deku

JJK- gojo, geto, toji, sukuna

[ln4smiamitrophy]

𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

𐙚 summary; the one where lando norris shamelessly obsesses over his girl in her instagram comment section

ʚɞ pairing; lando norris x reader

ᡣ𐭩 fc; emma brooks

⭒ type; smau

⟡ a/n; first post , just something basic to test the waters. lowkey why are these so fun to make?

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, yourbff and others

y/nusername felt cute, might delete later lol

comments…

yourbff never seen someone so sexy

⤷ y/nusername seems kinda narcissistic to be talking about yourself in that way

user1 patiently waiting for lando to once again be mclaren’s worst pr nightmare

⤷ mclaren we dread y/n post (we love you y/n, lando not so much)

⤷ landonorris hey!!

user2 hi mommy 😍😍

user3 the best wag (not clickbait)

lilymhe marry me?

⤷ y/nusername yes!!!

⤷ alex_albon guess i’ll go fuck myself

⤷ y/nusername good idea

landonorris sit on my face. i’m begging you

⤷ y/nusername it’s not even been a day

⤷ landonorris and i can’t wait any longer. this is torture

user4 i just know lando is giggling and kicking his feet rn

⤷ oscarpiastri he is. he… literally is

landonorris please never delete this 🙏🏼🙏🏼

georgerussell63 y/n what have you done to this man? he’s been staring at this post for the past 5 minutes

⤷ user5 he’s not the only one

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and others

y/nusername sweet treat

comments…

user1 i didn’t think you could get any more attractive, guess i was wrong

⤷ user2 we all were

oscarpiastri why did i just witness lando see this and then excuse himself to his driver room? i’m traumatised

⤷ user3 BAHAHAHA 😭😭 poor osc

⤷ user4 this post was all too much for little lando norris

francisca.cgomes smash 😍🔥

⤷ y/nusername come over babygirl

landonorris my sweet treat

*liked by y/nusername*

landonorris google, how does one become a lollipop?

⤷ maxverstappen1 lando do you forget this is public? everyone can see this?

landonorris @mclaren cancel my meetings please, something has come up

⤷ y/nusername go to your meetings mister, i’ll be waiting for you at home

⤷ landonorris yes ma’am 🫡

⤷ mclaren sigh, i’m too tired for this

⤷ user5 poor mclaren admin, they’ve been through so much

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y/nusername

liked by landnorris, georgerussell63 and others

y/nusername let's play mermaids

comments...

yourbff not the toes on show

⤷ y/nusername no mermiads for you hoe

carmenmmundt beautiful girl

⤷ y/nusername ily <3

landonorris why are you at the beach!? it's raining, you're gonna catch a cold!! you look gorgeous as always but stay wrapped up please, i don't wanna have to deal with sick y/n

⤷ y/nusername these are from like a week ago lan... you were there when i took them... you took them...

⤷ landonorris oh yeah 😅

user1 mother is mothering

alex_albon lily wanted me to ask you when you're next brunch date is...

⤷ y/nusername omg, soon! i promise

carlossainz55 surprised at how tame lando's comment is

landonorris i need you, every way possible, right now. i'm struggling over here love

⤷ carlossainz55 nevermind... you gotta stop doing this publicly

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, yourbff and others

y/nusername uh oh i think i'm in love

tagged; landonorris

comments...

user1 awwwwwwww

user2 parents!!

yourbff i guess you're cute... i'm still better tho

⤷ y/nusername ssshhh he can't know the truth

landonorris my girl forever, i adore you

*liked by y/nusername*

landonorris you truly are the love of my life

⤷ y/nusername guess you're stuck with me then

⤷ landonorris wouldn't have it any other way baby

maxfewtrell this is sickeningly cute

⤷ y/nusername thank you??

user3 i want what they have

landonorris my home ❤️ (pls come home, i miss you)

⤷ y/nusername i'm on my way love

[ramhaiba]

𝖫𝗂𝖺𝗋, 𝖫𝗂𝖺𝗋

Pairing- Yandere Rintaro Suna x Reader

Masterlist

"You don’t know where you’re running to. All you know is that if you stop he’ll catch you. You don’t even know who he is."

Contains- Serial Killer! Suna, slightly inspired by the movie 'Secret Obsession', reader pretends to have amnesia, stockholm syndrome(?), dubcon, mentions of masturbation (m), dry humping, unprotected sex, couch sex, riding, groping

You were just having a bad night, driving back home after a stressful family dinner only to have your car’s tire pop, leaving you in the middle of nowhere. You called the roadside assistance hotline and they told you that ‘the quickest they could get to you was in two hours.’ So you sighed, sitting in your car, mindlessly scrolling through social media to ignore that you were stranded, the woods being your only company.

Then there was a knock on your window, turning your head to see him. He was handsome, tall, with narrow golden eyes, and dark brunette middle-parted hair. But his clothes were too casual to seem like he worked for the emergency hotline.

You slowly rolled your window down, “Hello? Do you need something?” You asked.

“ No-no, I ain't like that, princess. I was driving home and saw ya parked here. I figured something must be wrong since we’re out in the middle of nowhere. I mean- unless you got some business with the woods, something must be up, right?” he responded.

“ Yeah, I just have a flat tire. Now I’m just waiting for the emergency company to send someone to replace it” you answered.

“ Ain’t that gonna take a while? Reckon they don't get many workers this late at night. Plus, we’re a long way from civilization... But I could fix it for ya instead" he suggested.

“Are you sure? I mean- I don’t want to waste your time” you responded. “C’mon now, I can’t let a sweet girl like you out here. Dangerous at night, ain’t it?” he laughed, waving off your concerns. “Alright then I'll take you up on that offer” you agreed, mostly giving in because you couldn't stand waiting any longer.

“I’m gonna need some help- so you gotta get out of that car seat and get ya hands dirty for me, princess” he added, lips curling into a smile as he tapped your locked car’s door.

“Of course- just give me a moment to get out” you uttered, watching the stranger nod his head. As the stranger in front of you went to retrieve a spare tire in his trunk, you quickly slid the pepper spray from your glovebox into your back pocket because

He was a stranger after all.

“Alright, princess let’s get this tire changed” the man called out for you, causing you to step out of the safety of your car.

He rested the replacement wheel on the side of your vehicle, “do you know how to change a tire?” he asked, squatting down to get a better look at the flat.

“I barely passed my driver's test- so not really” you commented, causing the man to snicker. “It ain’t too hard, just gotta raise the car a lil bit first- ah fuck” he cursed, looking around him. “What’s wrong?” you asked, worried by his sudden change of tone. “Just forgot to bring out the jack. It’s in my trunk, get it f’me really quick, can't lift the car without it” he sighed, pushing back his dark hair in disappointment.

“Sure, I’ll be right back” you agreed, turning around to walk to his car. You approached the trunk of his black vehicle, struggling to open it as if it was jammed or locked.

Then you hear a twig snap from behind you, instantly you turn your back, seeing the same friendly stranger, his arms raised above his head, hands gripping onto a dagger heading towards you, his pupils dilated. He didn't seem excited, scared, or sad. No, all of his friendly attitude morphed into something blank, something inhumane.

It was reflex.

You pulled out your pepper spray and misted his eyes with the eye-watering contraption. He’s on the ground, hissing in pain, fingers digging into the road. You’re running back into your car, only to realize you left your car keys inside. But you don’t have time to curse at yourself for the stupid mistake, not when he’s seconds away from recovering.

So you’re dashing into the forest, into the darkness.

Branches are scratching your face as you frantically run into the forest, heart beating out of your chest, hearing his quick footsteps and his laughter- fuck- his laughter sounds almost animalistic like a fox's cackling. Due to the rush of adrenaline, it feels like you and him are the only objects in motion, everything else just seems blurry.

You don’t know where you’re running to. All you know is that if you stop he’ll catch you. You don’t even know who he is.

It was already too late when you finally noticed the steep ditch in front of you, tripping over your own feet as you fell head in, the immediate painful impact causing your world to collapse into darkness, eyes closing as you felt the warmth of your blood drip down your forehead.

“You should really learn to watch where you step, princess.”

—

You’re surprised you woke up, knowing there was a serial killer behind you, you thought you’d be a goner.

You knew it wasn’t a simple nightmare when you noticed the bandages around your arms and how you weren't in your bedroom. You try getting up but you hit with an intense feeling of soreness that forces you to fall back into bed.

Unable to physically get up, you take the time to visually examine yourself and the unfamiliar environment around you. Judging by your fresh pair of clothing and the neatness of the bedroom, you figured you were saved by the road assistance employee who was assigned to change your tire. But it doesn’t matter who saved you; you’re just happy you’re alive.

Hearing the bedroom’s door creak open, you promised yourself you’d thank your savior who walked through the door.

But it’s not a savior- no, it’s the devil- it’s him.

This time he’s not wearing a classic grey hoodie. It's something that just screams wealth, a neat black button-down followed by khaki dress pants tied with a belt.

You don’t know why. But you’re first instinct is to play dumb- play dumb so that he might believe you’re no longer a threat. If he thinks you don’t remember the crime he committed, he’ll believe there’s no way you’d report him to the police

“ What happened to me?” You uttered, rubbing your bandaged forehead.

“ You don’t remember hitting your head? ” he asked, eyebrows raising in curiosity. He pulled a swivel chair out from the desk in the room, planted it in front of your bed, and then sat in it, arms crossed, awaiting your response.

“I-I don’t remember anything” you gulped, hoping he didn’t catch your bluff. “Anything? Really? Not even your name?” he hums, eyes narrowing in curiosity.

“ I don’t remember my name... I don’t know who you are either” you added, averting your eyes from his unwavering stare, anxious with how close he was to you.

He takes a moment to process what you have just said. Then his lips curl into a smile, clearly indicating that he's figured out what you were implying.

“It looks like you have a case of amnesia from hitting your head too hard. Don’t worry, darling. As your fiancé, I’ll gladly help you recover” he says, sweetly as he leans forward, placing his cold palm on top of your hand, tilting his head slightly to emphasize the caring gesture.

Did he just say, fiancé? Fuck- fuck, you're screwed.

But if you expose the truth, you’d be exposing your lie. He won’t hesitate to kill you if he knows you’re faking it.

“F-fiancé?” You stuttered in disbelief. “My name is Rinatoru Suna. Yours is Y/n L/n. But you’ll be having my last name soon enough,” he chuckles before leaning back on his chair, the wheels causing him to push away from the bed. You have to remind yourself to keep calm.

“ Where are we” you interrogated, trying to keep your tone as gentle as possible to not raise suspicion.

“ At our summer house, away from everyone and everything. It was supposed to be a nice vacation but then you went and hurt your head trying to get firewood late at night. Luckily, I found you unconscious in a ditch- figured you must have tripped over something in the darkness and hit your head” Suna stated, body language so calm that if you didn’t know any better you’d actually believe him. A serial killer and a pathological liar, that’s a deadly combination. 

“ Could I get my phone? I'd like to text my parents that I’m okay.” You asked even though you expected your request to be denied.

But to your surprise he smiled as he got up from his chair, “Of course, sweetheart ” he replied, walking over to the desk, sliding open a hidden cabinet attached to the table.

He uses two of his fingers to hold up a clear ziplock bag that carries a painfully cracked phone. “You can have it back but I doubt it’ll be any use, probably would cut your pretty fingers if you touch the screen” Suna commented.

You couldn’t hide your disappointment as you showed a frown. Suna clicked his tongue as he walked back over, lifting your chin with his fingers, “Don’t look so sad, sweetheart. Even if your phone wasn’t broken, the service in this area is horrible. But that’s why you picked it though. Since you claim I’m so ‘addicted to the damn phone” he teased, swiping his thumb on your lower lip, acting as if you were an average loving couple.

“Are you still in any pain” he mumbled, tone soft as he kept his fingers holding your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“I'm still sore...thank you for taking care of me, Suna” you responded, a pit of shame growing in your stomach as you realized you ‘thanked’ a serial killer.

“ Rin. You call me Rin” he advised, tone still soft as he gazed at your features with admiration,

“ T-thank you for taking care of me, Rin” you corrected, voice too scared to talk any louder.

“Of course. What else are fiancés for?” He replied.

—

All your pent-up fear bursts the second Suna leaves the room to prepare dinner. You’re trying to be as silent as possible as you’re clenching your chest, panic attacking causing your heart to race.

Why is he doing this to you? Why hasn’t he killed you yet? 

You can’t spend your time pondering these questions; you need to leave. You get out of bed slowly so you don't instantly fall back down, limping towards the wide window before parting its white curtains, revealing acres of forest, not a single neighbor, or person in sight. You and him are alone in this modern mansion, surrounded by the woods.

But not all hope is lost; you see his car parked outside the house. All you need to do is use the vehicle to escape. You plan to leave tonight before he gets bored of playing ‘house.’ You’ll steal his car keys when he’s asleep and then drive back to civilization.

—

Suna sits you down carefully at the dining table, treating you as if you were glass. He puts out two plates of steaks with a side of mashed potatoes.

“I hope you don’t mind steak. As a professional volleyball player, I require a lot of protein to keep up the physique” Suna chuckled, taking a seat across from you, his palm holding his face as his eyes admired your appearance.

“You play professionally?” you asked.

“Of course, how else would we afford this summer house? Y’know, volleyball is the reason we met. In high school, you walked into the gymnasium in the middle of practice and got a volleyball straight to the face. The twins were too busy arguing whose fault it was that you got hit, so my captain at the time, Kita, made me walk you to the nurse’s office. The rest is history” Suna recited. The way he spoke, so casually, not a single stutter just made his words feel so real. The story sounds like a classic rom-com movie, so sickly cute that you almost wished it was real.

“Being escorted out from a volleyball to the face, how romantic” you teased, trying to make yourself sound more relaxed. “If it makes you feel any better, they still feel bad about it to this day,” Suna snickered, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re still friends with them?” you questioned.

“You mean we’re still friends with them. Unfortunately, yes. They’ll probably be one of my groomsmen at our wedding” Suna corrected. “C-could I meet them later?” You asked, hoping that the so-called twins could be your potential saviors.

There was a pause in Suna’s actions, he slowly switched his view off of his plate to look at you.

“Sure, I suppose that wouldn’t be an issue” he responded, a fake smile on his lips.

“Y’know, you haven’t touched your food yet. Protein is important for recovery” Suna added.

Your hand is trembling from fear as you attempt to cut the thick pan-seared steak in front of you. You want to curse at yourself for showing fear but how could you not? You’re sharing dinner with a serial killer- who knows, maybe you’re next on the menu.

“Y/n. Let me do that for you” Suna interrupted. Judging by his still-happy demeanor, he’s blaming your trembling on your body’s recovery.

You feel sick.

You feel sick because the same hands that tried to kill you are now feeding you and all you can do is gladly accept, putting on a fake smile with every bite.

The rest of the dinner was mainly peaceful, mostly him reciting fake memories of your ‘dating’ years with him. You can’t help but laugh at some of them, especially the one where he heard you scream in the middle of the night so he rushed out of bed, to the living room, expecting a robber but instead he saw you on the couch, pointing to a defenseless spider.

A shameful part of you wishes these stories were real because, besides the psychotic part of Suna, he seems like the ideal partner, wealthy, intelligent, calm, attractive. 

Once dinner is over, Suna leads you back to your bedroom, he offers to help you fit into your nightgown, claiming ‘it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.’ You make it very clear that you could do it yourself, making Suna turn his back as you change. However, as you let out a noticeable hiss caused by the unbearable ache from bending your sore arm to attempt to pull off your shirt, Suna steps in to help you.

“Don’t be embarrassed, this is normal things couples do” he commented, making you sit down on the edge of your bed, his fingers hooking under the hem of your shorts, pulling them off of your ankles. Then his fingertips are trailing up your thigh, under your shirt, lifting it above your head, leaving your bare chest naked to his eyes. The room was silent yet millions of thoughts were loud in your head. Suna clicked his tongue at the view of your naked chest, his hand came up to grope at your breast, his breath hitching at the softness.

“R-Rin, stop that” you stuttered, as you watched his hand trail off your breast to the center of your chest, palm laying flat. “I can feel your heartbeat right now. It’s running so… quickly” Suna mumbled, before replacing his palm with the side of his face, his ear pressed against your chest, closing his eyes as he concentrated on the sound of your heart beating.

You’re holding your breath, you feel paralyzed with fear of having such a dangerous man so close to your skin. Suna sighed as he pulled away, smile on his lips, his palm holding your cheek, “Sorry. I got caught away, didn’t I? You’re so just cute, I couldn't help myself” he apologized, thumb swiping on your bottom lip. “I-it’s okay” You stuttered, glad the experience was over.

After he dresses you in your nightgown, he helps you lay into bed, ensuring you’re completely comfortable. As you expect him to leave the room, he simply takes off his shirt, revealing his toned back,

“Rintarou, what are you doing” you gasp, using his full name to add more emphasis, averting your eyes, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “What? We always sleep next to each other” Suna replied. “I just don’t think I’m ready for that. I’m still trying to adjust to this life that I have no memories of” you confessed, feeling uncomfortable sleeping next to a man you barely know- especially when the man tried to kill you. Suna sighed as he walked over to you, tilting your chin up with one finger.

“You’re making me really making me regret being so careless with you that night” Suna commented, eyes narrowing in annoyance. “W-what do you mean?” you asked, thinking that he’s finally caught onto your lie.

“The night you got hurt. I really should have been the one collecting the firewood” Suna added, releasing your chin, stepping back, an innocent smile curled on his lips.

He walks towards the door, and before leaving he looks back at you, “I’ll just sleep on the couch tonight” he suggested, rubbing his nape. “Why not just sleep in the guestroom?” you offered.

“After catching Atsumu hooking up with a random chick in that guestroom- I swore off of touching that mattress” Suna responded, rolling his eyes at the fake scenario in his mind. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry you have to sleep on the couch because of me” you apologized, not really understanding why a feeling of guilt is forming in your stomach because you seriously can’t be feeling bad for a serial killer.

“Don’t be. Just sleep well tonight. Goodnight, sweetheart” Suna replied sweetly, turning off the lights in your room as he left.

A part of you wonders if the story of Atsumu was true. Or perhaps he’s sleeping on the couch because it’s close to the front door, the safest exit to escape from him.

You won’t lie; it's somewhat disheartening knowing that he’d be guarding near the exit. But as long as you don't wake him up, it shouldn’t be too hard, right?

You must have stared at the ceiling for two hours, praying, strategizing, and overthinking about your current situation. You tilted your head to look at your nightstand, the digital clock reading ‘2:00 am.’

He must be asleep by now.

You curse at yourself for stumbling out of bed, almost knocking over the clock on your nightstand. Then you limp down the hall, leaning on the wall for support, hoping you’re not making too much noise.

You slowly make your way down the stairs, a lingering creaking sound following every step causes you to cringe. There he was, sleeping peacefully on the white sofa, sleeping only in grey sweatpants, closed eyes emphasizing his envious long lashes. You tiptoe towards the key rack on, searching for his car keys.

It's not there. 

You click your tongue, wondering where they could be until you notice an imprint in his pants pocket.

Fuck- fuck.

He’s either forgotten to take them out of his pants or slept with them on purpose. But it doesn’t matter because you know you have to fish them out of his pants while not disturbing his slumber. You slowly approach him, leaning over, holding your breath as you hover above his waist. Your hand carefully moves towards his pants pockets until you feel a palm on the back of your head. You swore, your heart stopped at the feeling, fear flushing into your body. Then you’re head is pushed against his crotch, cheek coming into contact with the imprint of his bulge.

“Such a good girl” Suna murmured in his sleep.

“Such a good girl for me, Y/n” he added, drowsy hands brushing through your hair, his hips slightly lifting, pressing himself against your face.

“R-Rin” you yelped, pulling away, his hand dropping to his side. Suna’s eyes are slowly opening, “fuck- sorry baby, it’s a force of habit” Suna huffed, sitting up, eyes slowly focusing on his settings. You felt yourself slowly relax as you got out of that uncomfortable state.

“What are you doing here?” Suna questioned. “I-” you stuttered trying to form a believable lie.

Suna hummed, tilting his head as his eyes narrowed on you.

“Don’t worry, I got it. You can’t sleep with me, right?” Suna answered for you, a lazy smile on his lips.

“ Rin, I should go” you commented, trying to leave only for him to lean over and grab your wrist.

“Can I confess something to you, sweetheart, I haven’t been honest lately” Suna uttered, his hand drifting up your arm.

This is it, he’s bored of playing the fiancé role,

“ I missed you s’much during the time you were unconscious. Ya were asleep for three days but you still looked so fucking cute. I couldn’t help but get hard from looking at you. I had to jerk off right there at the sight of you. Fuck- how could I not? You were all defenseless, all cute, all mine.” Suna revealed, your cheeks boiled from the lewd comment, you could only stutter his name in response.

“ You’re not mad at me for it, right? You can't be. You’re too nice to be mad at me” Suna teased. “Y-yeah, I’m not mad at you, Rin” you answered, hoping he’d let you leave.

“Prove it then. Prove you forgive me. Prove you still love me, baby” Suna replied. “How do I do that,” you asked. You watched as Suna straightened his back against the sofa’s frame, his eyes glancing at you and then at his lap, signaling you to sit on it.

Your hands are shaking as you grab the cushions, positioning yourself above his lap, hovering over his waist, only for his hands to grip your waist, pulling you flush against his bulge.

“That’s better. That’s s’much better” he huffed.

“Rin, this is embarrassing “ you responded, tilting your head away to hide from his intimidating gaze. “Don’t be shy. This ain’t anything we haven’t done before” Suna hushed, leaning over, kissing the skin of your exposed collarbone.

“But it doesn’t matter how much we've done it- I can never have enough of you” Suna added, his teeth digging into your skin, causing you to yelp, only to be replaced by the cooling feeling of his tongue brushing against the mark.

Then he’s slowly moving your hips so you’re grinding against his clothed cock, feeling the hardness through his sweatpants.

“ Ya feel that baby? So fucking hard because do you. You know how bad I wanted to bend you over on the hood of your car?” Suna teased, smirking against your neck.

“M-my car?” You questioned his words, only for the thought to be forgotten by the buck of his hips causing a gasp to erupt from your mouth.

“ Y’know, I can feel your wet pussy soaking my sweatpants. Messy girl, staining my clothes. What should I do with you?” Suna asked, keeping your hips pressed against his, covered clit coming into contact with the hardness of his erection.

“ Rin, I-“ you whined, finding it hard to form proper words, too overwhelmed by pleasure. “ Don’t worry, sweet girl m’gonna take good care of ya” Suna hushed, hovering you over his waist so he could pull his clothes down just enough to get his cock out of his sweatpants.

He didn’t bother taking your panties off, simply pushing them to the side as the tip of his cock sunk into you. You’re embarrassed how you’re already shaking from the tip, hands holding onto his shoulders, jaw clenching.

“ I can’t- I can’t do this, Rin” you whimpered, only for his hand to grip your waist, forcing you deeper down his cock.

“Course you can. You were made for me and I was made for you” he chuckled. His hands are making you bounce on his cock, each thrust making him hit deeper inside of you, he’s biting his tongue at the feeling of your tight pussy warming his cock.

“You like that, baby? Ya like my cock stretching your cunt?” Suna grinned. As you tilt your head to release a moan, Suna leans his head over, kissing-sucking- biting the soft skin of your neck.

“Rin- slow down” you huff, hands aiming to hold his shoulders, hoping that holding something down would make it more difficult for him to bounce you on his cock.

Suna clicked his tongue, tilting his head as he looked up at you, admiring your appearance because fuck- you look divine, all flustered because of his cock, moonlight seeping through the window highlighting your physique, once-clear skin now littered with imprints of his teeth.

“You’re so cute, y’know that, right?” he teased, flipping you onto your back, hovering above you, his hand trailing down your waist.

“I think I know an old habit we used to do that might help you recover some old memories” Suna uttered.

“What are you going to do?” you asked, voice slightly trembling. Suna sat up straight giving you an innocent smile, “ can’t tell ya, you just have to trust me” he cooed.

You watched as he got up from the couch, whistling as he went to the coat rack by the front door. Then he stuffed his hands into his jacket’s pocket, his whistling stopped the second he felt for the desired object.

It was hard to see what he was holding due to the lack of light, all you knew was that it was small. You sat up against the couch, back leaning on the couch’s arm“ What’s in your hand?” you asked. “I’ll tell ya but you got to promise you won’t freak out” Suna replied, sitting down at the edge of the couch, pulling your ankle towards him, causing you to lay back down.

“I promise I won’t freak out” you responded skeptically.

Then you saw it, a switchblade, the sharp knife pointing out, metal being shined upon the moonlight,

You’re instantly getting flashbacks of him holding that dagger above your head, his vicious eyes looking down at you as if you were his prey. In some sense, you were and still are his prey.

“ Rin, I think that’s too much for me” You commented, squirming away from him only for him to push you down with his hand pressing against your stomach.

“ We used to do this all the time. I’m not actually gonna hurt you, sweetheart” Suna remarked.

“ I- I don’t think I really want to” you stuttered, eyes glued on the blade, fearing that he’d just stab you without warning, cutting you up until you were dead.

“C’mon, Y/n, this might restore some lost memories. You do want to remember our life together, don’t you?” Suna questioned. He’s putting you into a corner where you’re forced to agree because disagreeing would bring up suspicion.

Suna knows you’re too smart to say no because a woman with actual amnesia would try anything to get their memories back.

He takes your silences as an agreement, sliding the knife from the neckline of your nightgown to the hem, effectively cutting the fabric.

He finishes the job by tearing the fabric apart with his hands, a lingering ripping sound followed as the once expensive nightgown is now pieces of rag.

“Don't pout, I’ll buy you a new one, pretty girl” Suna replied, tongue rolling over his front teeth as he admired the sight of your bare breast. “T-that’s not what I’m worried about,” you remarked, voice stuttering, trying your best not to look at the blade in his hand.

“Y’know, it’s custom made, one-of-a-kind switchblade” he confessed, tracing the tip of the knife across your collarbone, the blade was pressed down lightly, not breaking the skin.

“Look at it, sweetheart. Isn’t it pretty?” Suna asked. You tilt your head enough to look at the blade's cutting edge, black leather handle, clean sharp sliver metal, and subtle rose imprint stemming from the heel to the tip.

A part of you wonders if this was the same weapon he tried to kill you with.

Another part of you wonders if this will be the weapon that he will use to finish the job.

He glides the blade down from your clavicle to your inner thigh.

“Such a pretty girl- such a pretty pussy.”

His pressure with the blade is light yet you could still feel it move against your skin, never spilling blood. You felt him spell his name on your thigh, you wondered what was holding him back from actually craving it out.

A stinging pain coursed through your inner thigh as you heard Suna curse under his breath. You looked down between your legs, the cut was minor- more like a nick really, but blood was still dripping off of it.

Suna’s tongue dipped out of his lips, licking up the spilled blood on your thigh, before kissing the skin around it as a form of a sick apology.

He doesn’t raise his head from between your thighs, instead, his tongue is pressed flat against your panties, you gasp at how the warmness of his tongue is still felt through the thin fabric.

He’s chuckling at your reaction, switchblade completely disregarded as his fingers curl under your panties, sliding them down.

“ Pretty- every fucking piece of you is so god damn pretty,” he commented, leading your leg to rest comfortably on his shoulder, cock heavy in his hand as he pressed the leaking tip onto your throbbing clit.

He pushes into you again, the overwhelming familiar stretch of his cock sinking into your tight pussy causing you to tilt your head, a moan coming from your lip.

That’s when you feel it, the cold metal of the knife pressed against your neck, not cutting or slicing the skin, just simply placed there as if it were a threat. Your eyes focus back on Suna, terrified that this is your final moment.

But it’s not.

He’s thrusting into your pussy like he’s addicted to the feeling of your warmth wrapping his cock. Suna doesn’t have the same expression he had when he was moments away from killing you.

The one he’s wearing is excited, blush across his cheek, tongue flickering over his teeth, dark pupil dilated. And he fucking is.

The sight of your body bouncing with each thrust of his hips caused the skin of your neck to press slightly deeper into the blade.

“Can’t tell if ya scared or excited because this pussy just keeps getting tighter every time your neck gets closer to cutting open” he huffed. Then he leans over, bringing your leg closer to your chest, tilting his head towards your ear, he parts his lips and utters the words

“Maybe you’re a little bit of both, princess.”

‘Princess’ he hasn’t called you that since this whole charade started, the last words you heard before you woke up to this lie. Yet the endearing name is sending you to the edge, shameless moan so loud that you’re grateful your closet neighbor is miles away. Suna hisses at the feeling of your pussy squeezing his cock as you trembled from your orgasm. He’s still thrusting into your cunt, chasing his own release, his chest heaving.

Suna has to fight back the urge to cum in your twitching hole, he praises himself for managing to pull out, spilling his cum on your stomach. Then he drops the knife on the ground, leaning over again and for the first time that night, he kisses your lips, kisses you like a husband would kiss his wife, so sweetly.

He gets up and gathers napkins in the kitchen then carefully wipes the mess he left on your stomach by this time you’re exhausted, you just let him handle you as you try to process what just occurred.

He looks down at you, his fingers grazing your cheeks, “can’t let you sleep here, sweetheart- won’t be good for your back” he mumbled to you, his voice soft. Then he’s lifting you, holding you in a bridal style, going up the stairs, making his way to your bedroom, softly placing you on the mattress.

He’s climbing into bed next to you, pulling you close towards him so your back is on his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist, chin tucked on your shoulder.

Your arms were sprawled out on the bed and you couldn’t help but notice your ringless finger, reminding you

that both you and Suna are liars.

Part two

[teabutmakeitazure]

Dissimulation - Continued Again

>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (Modern au)

>Word Count: 9.2k

>a/n: word vomit. i love him sm and i love having him do mental gymnastics just to get the girl (to get laid) also I wrote this in numerous pieces and by the writing changes you can tell lol. copium during finals. can't believe it's almost been a whole year since this fic was first published. also, I've had the same injury described later on. it bled a lot i thought i was gonna die.

Warnings: firearms, hidden blood kink, licking (I will not elaborate) childe doesn't like pillows, read at your own discretion

Part 1 | Continuation | reason why Childe #1 husband

Childe is waiting in the car.

That’s the thought that keeps repeating in your head. Honestly, it’s your fault. You insisted he not come with you inside, even going as far as getting mad at him when he initially refused. It’s only fair that you suffer the consequences of your actions.

You can still feel the muzzle of the revolver despite the layer of cloth separating it from your spine. How do you know it’s a revolver? Well, the bastard spun it before pressing it to your lower back. You’ve played enough video games to know what that sound belongs to.

“Stop walking so slow. Move it.”

You internally scoff at his words. If you move any faster, it’ll just be more suspicious. Well, good for you. If it’s suspicious then there’s a higher chance someone might intervene. 

“To the right, right there.”

You do as he says. It’s not very tempting to disobey when there’s a loaded gun on your back. The man leads you down a small alleyway away from the hustle of the outdoor market. It’s dark, and there’s a pipe leaking somewhere. This is when dread really settles in, but you put on a brave face despite your trembling lip.

You hear the man click his tongue before ordering you to stop walking. The muzzle is still pressed to your spine, and he pulls out his phone with his free hand to call someone. “I got the girl here, so now you do your part.” Someone speaks on the other side, angering him. “You’re being delusional! This is the perfect chance,” he whisper-yells. “I got the girl here, so if things go bad, I shoot. We’ll at least do some damage.”

Shoot…? What the fuck did you get yourself into?

“The next time you call me back, it better be because the bastard’s dead or he’s given up.” With that, he angrily hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket. You’re left facing the dead end of the alleyway, your captor behind you with his back to the only exit and entrance. “So,” he starts, “where did you first meet him?”

You decide to test the waters. From what you gathered so far, you are valuable until the other guy fails in what he’s supposed to do (which you have no clue of). “Me?” You feign innocence. “Meet who?”

He presses the muzzle even harder into you, making you stumble a step forward. “Don’t play dumb with me. Even if I kill you right now, it won’t affect anything. So tell me, where did you first meet him?”

You gulp nervously, heart beating in your throat. “T-the convenience store. It was a random occurrence.”

“And you knew who he was?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Hah. Stupid girl. Do you not know you’re the one usually targeted when he makes enemies? That you’re the face that comes up when he pisses someone off?”

Gaze dropping to the ground, you can’t help but think of all the kind things he’s done for you so far as you answer. “I had no choice.”

He clicks his tongue. “What, so he forced you to be his girlfriend?”

“I’m not his girlfriend…”

“So you’re just a pretty lady he keeps around?” Amusement is evident in his tone. He’s messing with you before he kills you. “Considering how expensive it was to find out about you, you’re damn special. If there’s one thing I know about Tartaglia, it’s that he’s not the type to keep a girl around for nothing or just her body. And that’s precisely why you’re in this situation.”

If you’re going to die anyway, you might as well say it. Ah, sorry mama. Couldn’t help it. “You think I’m pretty?”

Surprisingly, he takes it well. “I won’t deny you have a pretty face. I can see why he’d go to lengths to keep you a secret, but nothing can be hidden forever. Don’t worry. I won’t hurt your face when I kill you.”

Great. Now there’s stinging behind your eyes. This really is it. Maybe you should’ve told your parents you love them last night. Shit, is this really the end? So much for wanting to buy a birthday present from the market. Now you won’t live to see your next birthday.

The man groans out of annoyance, hand diving into his pocket to fish out his phone. “How long is he going to take…” You can hear him aggressively tapping at the device, and you wait for him to start whisper-yelling on the phone again but all that comes is the muzzle being removed from your back as something loudly whizzes through the air, and he lets out a silent cry of pain.

Something behind you falls to the ground with a thud, and judging how his voice seems to come from elsewhere, he’s the one who fell. “No, don’t come closer. I’ll shoot! I swear I will!”

You stay still, unknowing of what’s going on. Panic overtakes your senses, and your hands start trembling as you start feeling sick. Your body is going into fight or flight, and you really want it to choose flight. As you bring your trembling hands up into your view, a familiar voice calls out from behind.

“[Name], darling. Stay as you are. Don’t turn around.”

You freeze at Childe's words, immediately pressing your palms to your ears to block out some sound only to end up making it slightly muffled. The man is spewing profanities at him, trying to get on his nerves. “You scared of your toy dying? Is that why you’re here? Or maybe you were scared we’d take your little toy away from you? Do all the things to her you do but worse?”

Footsteps lightly grow closer, likely stopping by the man writhing on the ground, clutching his leg. Something clatters to the side, presumably the revolver he may have been pointing at Childe. When Childe speaks, his voice is laced with venom. “The girl is mine.” The man grunts, and Childe continues. “You have no idea how badly you’ve set me off. You better start praying to whatever you believe in.”

You cringe when you hear Childe kick him, heart beating even faster than before. Nausea tugs at you, making your eyes lose focus as you resist the urge to throw up or fall to your knees. Hands are still pressed to your ears when a body comes to stand behind you, yet it’s when arms wrap around you that you horribly flinch and move to elbow whoever it is, hyperventilating as you struggle to be freed.

However, Childe’s voice whispers in your ear, instantly making you relax. “It’s me.”

You are way too panicked to say anything useful. “Yes. Alright. It’s you. Not anyone else. Okay. Okay.”

One of his hands moves to cover your eyes, and he instructs you to keep them closed as he leads you out. The other hand is on your shoulder, and when you are away from the alley, he uncovers your eyes. Childe leads you to the market, stopping when you both enter its busy environment. He pulls out his phone, presses it to his ear without even dialling or accepting any call and hastily spews out the location of where you were earlier, firmly telling whoever it is on the other side to ‘deal with it’.

Nausea still stirs inside you, making you sick. You can feel the ghost of the muzzle pressing against you, and although you weren’t so horrified by it when it was actually happening, you are now.

Once again, Childe’s attention is back on you. His eyes focus on you solely, forgetting the busy environment around him and forgetting the issue he was addressing on the phone. He looks… concerned. Like a mother hovering over her child, he grabs your face with both hands, turning it side to side and carefully eyeing your features. He then pulls you into a hug, but you are too busy hearing your heartbeat in your ears to reciprocate and simply hide your face in his jacket instead.

“I’m so relieved,” he whispers. “Did he say anything to you? Hurt you? Touch you?”

After a shaky inhale, you focus your gaze on a random light source, willing away the sickness in your stomach. “No. Just a gun to my back. That’s it.”

“I am so sorry.”

Unfortunately, the nausea does not relent. “It’s fine.”

He holds you tighter. “It’s not fine. You were in danger.”

Though his warmth is comforting, you cannot move to hold him back. You can taste bile in your mouth, and you start profusely swallowing, yet Childe continues voicing his regrets. “I should have come with you. I shouldn’t have listened to you-”

Your voice shakes when you interject, the fear of what else might go wrong in public. “Quiet, please. I’ll throw up.” Your request is met with him gently rubbing your back, ignoring any glances from onlookers. When he feels that you are somewhat calm, you are led back to the car, the air conditioning turned on and your seat reclined as you cover your eyes with your forearm.

You don’t know why you feel sick and you don’t know why you keep thinking of a bleeding wound, infected and deep enough to show muscle and sinew. Worst of all, you don’t know what you should do now. Should you just ask to go home? Should you go back in? Get what you came here for?

Maybe you’ll come back later, with Childe. There’s still some time in your friend’s birthday and you can get her something later or make something instead. Yeah. That sounds right.

“Feeling any better?”

Your companion’s question makes you grumble. There are so many things that go wrong these days. Your relationship with him seems to loom over you like a raincloud wherever you go. Always accompanying you like a blight on your existence. It also does not help that information about you had initially come to light because he bought the house you both currently live in a week before you made that deal with him.

You still remember that conversation in great detail. When you had finally got to the airport, what waited for you when you came back haunted you throughout the journey. This arrangement isn’t something you were looking forward to. Remaining a student on a tight budget who eats instant ramen half the time for dinner would have been more preferable.

“Is there any way I can help? Do you need anything?” Childe voices more questions, but this time you don’t feel annoyed at him. If anything, you should be thankful. Sure, that occurred because of him, but he did save you.

Hand reaching to set the seat upright, you mentally go over the words you want to say. Now facing him, Childe gives you a curious look before you speak, the edges of your lips already stuck together. “I’m sorry.” He looks taken aback, but you continue. “I’ll… I’ll listen to you next time. And thank you for saving me. I had already said my prayers and apologised to my parents in my head, so thank you for letting that go to waste. I would rather it not be useful.”

Childe blinks. With a chuckle, he smiles, giving you that typical lovestruck expression he has when you do something he finds endearing. “And I personally wouldn’t know how to break it to your parents. Not after your mom asked me to look out for you.” The reminder leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, yet Childe still has something to say. “Of course. You don’t ever need to thank me. As long as you’re mine, alive and healthy, I don’t need anything else.”

The confession makes your eyes widen, and when you open your mouth to question his words, he cuts you off. “Do you want to get what you came here for or do you want to go home?”

“Home,” you reply immediately.

He nods, a hand reaching over to grab your seat belt. The action makes your heart skip a beat - “out of surprise,” you tell yourself - yet Childe does not mind. He fastens his own seat belt after yours and promptly moves to reverse the car out of the parking lot.

It is halfway through the way that you voice your thoughts, and Childe seems to hesitate.

“We have snacks at home,” he says.

Him and his healthy habits be damned. “You mean fruits. I don’t want fruits.”

“They’re healthy. You need nourishment.”

“What am I? A plant?”

Childe holds in a laugh with an awkward cough, a smile still there. “No, but you are a very dear person. I’ll cut some apples into bunny shapes, and we can eat the oranges I got yesterday. I’ll peel them for you, like always.”

Unfortunately for him, you do not yield, even going as far as to use his name since it usually makes him more submissive. “Ajax, I almost died tonight. I would like to be able to binge eat a bag of chips as I ease my worries.”

He negotiates again, albeit weakly. “Darling, you have a habit of stress eating. I know you can’t help it, but I just want to make sure you’re at least eating things that are good for you.”

“A bag of chips just this once wouldn’t hurt.”

You can see the gears turning in his head, and with a sigh, he concedes. “Fine. But only because you want to and have been eating well without complaints these past few weeks.”

The words seem like a parent pointing out a child on their diet, gentle yet still delivering the message. Despite everything, you would never admit that ever since he started butting into what you eat, your skin doesn’t break out as much and you’re almost always hydrated. He doesn’t need to hear the positive effects his presence has on your life from your own mouth. And he sure as hell doesn’t need to know that his hydration checks throughout the day are the reason why you drink water.

-

Yesterday, Chil- Ajax asked you something you could not say no to. 

You keep justifying your acceptance with it being a sort of payback for him saving your life the other day even though you know you’re scared of saying no to him. Or maybe you just wanted to repay his kindness. It’s not like you asked for his kindness, but he is giving it to you. Goodness, the way he looks at you sometimes when you talk is just… if you didn’t know any better, you’d describe it as creepy.

But it isn’t. It isn’t creepy because the amount of genuine love in his eyes is just ridiculous. How can someone look at a person with so much love knowing they don’t reciprocate to that intensity? How can they be okay with that? You know Ajax is absolutely, positively in love with you. There’s no doubt about it.

You know so much about his family, and he’s always finding an excuse to talk to you. He asks you to talk to him because he likes your voice, and he sometimes stays in the room while you talk to your parents because he wants to see you be carefree in conversation.

He always gets you what you want without you knowing. Heck, he even gave you a credit card linked to his account! You don’t use it, but he gave it to you.

Back to the topic. You’re going out for dinner with him tonight as a date. You both leave at 7: 15 pm on the dot, and it is currently 6. You are freaking out currently too because what did you willingly agree to?

You know that bastard has been locked away in his room for over an hour now. You know he was giddy ever since he got home way too early today because of your evening plans. He’s way too obvious. And desperate. He’s also getting desperate.

There haven't been any romantic advancements in your relationship. You’ve just fallen into a casual routine at this point, and you aren’t bothered when he is there on your bed at any time you turn to look at it, even if you left the door closed. He cooks for you most of the time, and sometimes you mend his clothes so that he doesn’t buy new ones while completely ignoring the magical appearance of a shit load of sewing materials after the first time you did it.

It’s all gotten normal at this point. Seeing his credit card in your wallet every single time you open it, having to look at his mask sitting on a side table in the living room, watching him remove the dual pistols strapped to his body when he gets home, and much more. It’s all normal now. You’re used to it.

Yet your nerves are about to burst because you’re going out for dinner with him in an hour.

Honestly, after the dinner where he licked blood off your finger, you haven’t gone out for food with him since. You mostly eat at home, but the most you guys have done is takeout.

Anyway, what do you do? You don’t want to try hard lest unforeseen and unwanted developments occur, yet you also don’t want to not try at all because it might sour his mood. The latter is unpreferable simply because you can’t bear to see him sad. Maybe you’ll put in a little effort. Not too much but a little.

Had Ajax not been in the mafia, you would have already accepted him. You know you’re delaying the inevitable, that he will get what he wants, but you still can’t help it. Your conscience weighs you down. His identity ties you close to hesitance and denial.

Nevertheless, here you are, a cream coloured maxi skirt flowing till your ankles and a dusty pink blouse with bishop sleeves. You can’t believe you actually wore this. Ajax was the one who gifted the blouse to you, saying something like the colour being nice and wanting to see you wear it.

Well. He’ll get his wish now. 

After at least five consecutive minutes of staring into the mirror, you finally decide to put on some makeup. Nothing too much. A simple mascara, blush, and lipstick after whatever you ended up putting on your skin first.

Great! Now, shoes. Shoes…

You fish out a pair of nude sandals with a pointed tip and a one inch heel. Perfect. Seems like your mother giving you her old sandals came in handy. After checking if they fit, you take a look at the clock. There’s still twenty minutes till the clock strikes 7.

Twenty minutes of agony as nerves eat you from the inside.

Right at 7:02 pm, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. Shaking hands unlock the door, opening it to nervously meet eyes with your lovely housemate. He stands on the other side, hair parted in the middle as best it could be. One side is tucked behind his ear while the other hangs on his face, framing his jawline perfectly.

You take note of the black dress shirt and black pants. The sleeves are rolled up and his earring is still there. Also, why is his shirt so fitted? You know he’s ripped. He doesn’t have to rub it in.

“You wore the shirt,” he breathes out.

“It’s a blouse,” you correct.

“Beautiful.”

The way his eyes seem to look you over in awe makes your cheeks heat up. With an awkward clear of your throat, you snap his attention back to your face. “Didn’t you say you made a reservation?”

Ajax perks up at that. “Right! We should leave soon.”

You are then left to grab your bag and sandals while he goes to fish out his car keys and wallet. When you’re seated in the living room, trying to fasten the little buckle on the sandals, Ajax is wistfully staring at you from the kitchen, cheek resting in his palm.

“We would make a cute couple.” A sigh and he looks at your feet, silently wishing you’d ask for his help with it instead. “Do you… need help with that?”

To his not so very surprise, you brush him off. “I’m fine.”

“Huh.” He asks again. “Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

He still wishes you would ask for his help instead. Do you not realise that he would do anything you asked him to? He would willingly get on his knees for you, hands gingerly trailing up your legs before he decides to rest one on his shoulder, the other pulling him towards you as his hand travels upwards and-

“Ajax? It’s almost 7: 15.”

He snaps out of his thoughts instantly. You’re standing near the door now, head tilted in that cute way he adores as you curiously look at him. A hand quickly flicks the kitchen light off as he walks towards the door. This is going to be another test of his patience. He knows it. He just hopes you don’t blame him for anything he might end up doing tonight.

-

“I don’t get it.”

Childe looks at you curiously only to find you glaring at the open menu. “I don’t know what to get,” you say. “Can you order for me? Whatever you think is good here. You know the stuff I like and don’t like, so I trust you.”

The explicit trust makes him smile. As per your request, Childe orders for you, but it’s something different than his own so that you can try both things. If you like the food, he might even take you out more often. Eating out once in a while shouldn’t hurt. Not if he’s with you.

As he leans back in his seat, he finds you playing with the buttons on your sleeve. Childe hastily utilises the opportunity to scan the indoors, eyes quickly flitting over every single person present. None have noticed either of you, and none seem to be looking at you. Good.

A quiet ding sounds from your phone, the screen turning on for a few moments. You reach for it instantly, but Childe is quicker, his hand covering the device before you could grab it. You obviously look nervous because of the action, but he gives you a small smile.

“No phone while we’re out eating.” The expression on your face doesn’t change, so he adds in something else. “Please?”

You capitulate instantly, and he pulls the device closer to himself with a playful smile. He now has all your attention for this evening dinner. If Childe plays his cards right, he could monopolise this opportunity and possibly convince you more to actually go out with him. Or let him put a ring on your finger. Whichever you’d prefer.

But first…

“I wish we could’ve stayed home instead,” he sighs.

You raise a brow at his expression, simultaneously wondering why he’s looking at you so wistfully here of all places. “Why? Didn’t you want to go out for dinner? You were looking forward to this.”

“Yes but-” He bites his lip for a moment. He isn’t lying. He’s being completely honest, but it still feels a bit weird to be admitting it directly to you. “But… you look so pretty and I don’t like knowing that other people can see you when you look so beautiful.”

It’s the truth. He doesn’t like knowing that anyone and everyone here has access to your existence. That they can simply turn their head and look at you in that skirt. He doesn’t care if it’s till your ankles. You look absolutely enchanting. Childe hates it that anyone can see your collar bones and your curious expression and the way you’re tilting your head at him and the way you’ve started fidgeting with your sleeve already.

All these lovely things about you are supposed to be for him only.

But they aren’t.

And he hates that.

“Hey. Eyes up here.”

He didn’t realise he started staring at your collar bones. God, he hopes you don’t think he was staring at your chest.

“Now that you’re looking into my eyes,” you groan, “I want you to calm down.” Almost instinctively, Childe crosses his arms out of displeasure, but you are quick to cool him down. “No one is looking at me. Nothing even happened and you’re acting all jealous. Calm down.”

“I’m not acting.”

“Then stop overreacting.”

“I am definitely not overreacting.”

You give him a look, the one you usually give him when you know he is keeping something from you, but you would rather not put the effort into digging it out of him. “Right.”

Childe is quick to defend, to put out the bait in hopes you’ll take it. “Sweetheart, you’re beautiful. Of course I’m going to be pressed if other people look at you and think the same.”

You sigh. “We’re only out for dinner.”

“Yes, but I just… I don’t know.” He traces the handle of the cutlery on the table, all the while ignoring how you’re still fidgeting with your sleeves. He’s making you nervous. He shouldn’t be making you nervous.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to burden you with my feelings.” Though you look like you want to say something, Childe beats you to it. “I love you, and I hope you know that I mean that word when I say it. I’m not afraid of saying the bigger word. I never will be.”

Both your hands have disappeared under the table. From the looks of it, you’re clenching them. How nervous are you? But wait. If he helps, if he shows you he can take care of you, then you might just…

Childe gently calls out your name, and you look at him with wide, innocent eyes. Poor thing. He asks you to show him your hands, and you comply. What you do not see coming is him gently grabbing the two before bringing them to cup his face. Childe especially presses the cold fingertips to his warm cheeks, effectively warming them up.

He’s thankful for reserving this relatively small table tucked away in a corner. No one can see your widened eyes and the look of adorable surprise on your face. No one.

Upon receiving no explicit refusal from your end, Childe grows bolder. The palms cupping his cheeks are each delivered a gentle kiss, and when there is no rejection, he moves lower, lips trailing to your wrists. This is when he feels the tug, the panic in the withdrawal. Your left wrist is in his mercy, soft lips tenderly pressed against your pulse, yet you tug your arm in retreat like a wounded animal.

Though it pains him, Childe lets go but only after making eye contact with you for a moment.

The face you give him is akin to one of a mixture of surprise and betrayal, and it dawns on him. This is the first time he’s touched you like this. Childe thinks he may have mixed his fantasies with reality because he did not ask for your permission for doing so. Now that he thinks about it, for a moment, he returns to the dreams and thoughts where he touches you as he pleases, and where you ask him to touch you. Where you climb onto his lap at random times of day and tell him how you are only his. How you want nothing to do with the rest of the world because he is your everything.

The only thing he wants is for those fantasies to become reality. Is that too much to ask for? Is it too selfish for him to ask that of someone so beautiful, so… heavenly?

Despite the shock on your face, you do not verbally express your thoughts. The silence is deafening. Your hands are clutched to your chest, and as the noise of the background fades into nothing but a quiet and continuous rumble, Childe’s thoughts start wandering. The first thing he wonders about is where he has to keep his eyes from straying. Your hands and your chest.

He can’t stop feeling the softness of your skin under his calloused palms. How your pulse felt under his lips. How it might taste if it bled. How warm the red might be. How red it might be.

Childe feels dirty for those thoughts, but he doesn’t care. He would gladly embrace such farcicalities if it meant you being the centre of his attention, your entire being on his mind more than his own existence. Then again, you are his life, no? Then why should he stop himself from thinking about you? Is it not wrong for a believer to not think about their worshipped deity? Likewise, it is wrong of him to forcibly shut your existence out of his wandering and lost thoughts.

Besides, the thought of you is where all his unruly and chaotic thoughts come together and finally make sense. So why should he not look at you like you were made from a piece of his ribs, fragile and the closest to his heart than anything can ever be?

“Ajax,” the name tumbles out of your mouth, and Childe feels like he can hear again. “Please stop staring like that. It’s getting creepy.”

An apology is quickly on his tongue, but you are quick to cut his words off before they can be uttered. “You’re acting a little weird.” He notices the worry on your face and the hands under the table. Childe thinks he doesn’t deserve you, but he’s selfish. Horridly so. “Are you feeling okay? We could go home right after eating if you’re not feeling too good, Ajax.”

You’re soothing him. Like how an owner soothes an unruly pet, you’re soothing him. How indulgent of you. Well, as long as you are thinking of him, he doesn’t mind playing like he’s putting the muzzle back on. You were never the one holding the leash anyway.

“I’m fine,” he replies. “Sorry. I just lost myself for a minute there. Were you saying something earlier?”

“Ah. No. Just… I was just asking if you were okay. I wasn’t saying anything earlier. Before that, I mean.”

Though tension has risen and it clearly shows in how your shoulders have stiffened, Childe cannot bring himself to mind. As long as your eyes are on him and him only, and as long as your voice graces his ears with his name, he won’t mind the discomfort in your countenance. It’s only a matter of time before you completely set aside denial.

-

It was halfway through dinner that you confessed telling your parents you’ll be home late tonight. This gave birth to an opportunity, and being the man that he is, Childe grabbed onto it like a desperate man. Questions were hushed and trust was exploited as Childe did what he could, what he wanted to do for so long.

The evening sea breeze never felt so good as it does now.

He stands with his arms resting on the railing, yet it feels different this time. It feels less lonely, more fulfilling, even if you both are in a secluded corner of the pier.

The lights from the opposite end of land reflects onto the water, and the smell of salt is in the air. Wind directly hits his face, hair flying back with it, but he’ll deal with the aftermath of it later. Right now, he’s waiting for you to be done with setting your hair so that he can talk to you.

You take a few more minutes to ensure hair doesn’t blow into your mouth or his face before joining his side, albeit at a distance large enough to fit another person which he promptly shamelessly closes. Yet when he turns to look at you, he is met with a raised brow.

“What?”

You’re quick to voice your observation, Childe’s eyes briefly focusing on the half-faded lipstick as he gives you his full attention. “Your hairline is a little uneven.” The sentence makes him chuckle, but you have more to add. “I didn’t think it’d be like that. It’s cute.”

“You’ve seen my forehead plenty of times.”

“I haven’t.”

He tilts his head. “Whenever I get out of the shower, my hair is slicked back. You’ve seen me get out of the shower.”

“Well,” you scrunch up your nose, “you’re shirtless and with only a towel. Why would I look at you then?”

“...” So all the times Childe has purposely walked by you in the living room or dropped off fruit when you’re studying while being fresh out of the shower was in vain. Why is he even surprised? Of course you wouldn’t look. It was daft of him to even consider that you would look. You avoid him like the plague whenever he tries to make a move. That does beg a question. Why have you been surprisingly cooperative tonight?

Are you planning something?

It can’t be. He keeps an eye on you. You go nowhere except class, occasional outings with friends, and shopping. Childe knows where you are at all times and with who and for what, with being the one taking you there. He even had you join that group project meeting online instead of in-person because it was in the evening and your group mates were all guys.

Considering those factors, there is no way you are planning something. He’s made sure of it. Besides, you are perfectly aware that you cannot try anything. Not only do you live with him, but he’s in the mafia. Were you to be missing or run away, you’d be back home before midnight.

There has to be another reason. Maybe you’ve grown more comfortable with him. Yes. That’s it. Perhaps it’s the delusion accompanying the compunction of all that he has done to you, but he believes you’re slowly laying down your defences. All that’s done is to wait till the wall is broken down too.

“Ajax,” you call, lips parting hypnotizingly, lipstick making them stick to the corners, “you’re staring again.” A pause, then you point something out. “You’ve been staring a lot tonight.”

He smiles, face resting on top of his arms crossed over the railing. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty.” You make a weird noise at that, but he chuckles. “I’m honoured to be breathing the same air as you. To be so close to you and see you with my own two eyes. I could never have said I’ve seen the world’s beauty before I saw you sitting behind that cash register in the store.”

You seem clearly taken aback at the sudden words. To be honest, Childe is too. He didn’t expect to say all that together. Still, if it conveys even a fraction of the intensity of his emotions, he’d say more.

A strand of hair falls into his eye when the wind calms, and he tries to blink it away. It’s disturbing his view of you. The way you’re looking at him as you think over your words feeds his proprietorial nature, for your words are all his to hear and your being all his to keep. Childe would keep you even if it means he has to hide you from the rest of the world lest you slip from his grasp. 

Yet you are so good to him that he always melts at your unexpected surrenders. The time when you sewed up his shirt when he got a long, narrow cut at his side. The time when you made dinner and left some for him before going to bed when he texted you he’ll be home very late. The time you willingly came to him with your worries and let him console you.

And the way you remove the strand of hair that’s in his eye and allow him to look at you without obstructions.

If he could, he’d merge your beings into one so that no one else could ever have you, and you’d be his forever. He isn’t willing to break you to have you, but he is willing to hurt you just a little bit.

But before all that, he needs to figure out a way to make you all his. If it means putting a ring on your finger or faking your death or hiding you away from the world, he doesn’t care. You have to be all his.

From your body to your soul to your thoughts to your feelings to your touch to your very being. All. His.

“Ajax, you’re staring again.”

He stands up straight at that, one hand still grabbing the railing as he takes a step closer to you. This time, he does not smile. “Why don’t you love me?”

You question his sudden change in demeanour, but he presses further. “Why don’t you love me? What’s wrong? Tell me. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix us. Tell me how I can make you love me.”

Childe moves closer, and you instinctively move back, making him frown, but he soon cages you between the railing and his body. There’s not much space between you both, and you’re certain he would be able to hear your heart beat wildly if he moved just a tad bit closer. Nevermind the fact that your skirt is blowing with the wind and his legs are obstructing its path.

“I’m doing everything I know. Just tell me. All I want is your heart. All I want is you.”

You are quick to defend. “I already live with you. What more is there?”

“You,” he replies, breathless. “You don’t love me. You only live with me.”

“Because agreeing to that is why you let me go back home for the summer,” you remind him. “Well, I suppose either way I would have been here. If I said no, you would’ve taken me there earlier.”

“Do you feel trapped?”

“What do you think?”

Childe chuckles at that. Though he is culpable for this predicament, he also holds the power to change it to his favour. “Tell me then,” he whispers, wind once more blowing in his hair, “what do you want?”

Unfortunately for him, you play his game on equal footing. “Would you grant it?”

“No.” The look in your eyes is something smug, but he humours you anyway. “I can’t guarantee I won’t, but I guess it depends on what you ask me.”

A scoff accompanies your words now, the nervousness apparent in the way you grip the railing behind you for dear life. “You’ve told me numerous times you’d give me anything I want. Why are you so hesitant now?”

“Because I know what you are about to ask, and I’m afraid I can’t give you that.”

“And what am I about to ask?”

“To be able to leave me for good,” he spits out.

You simply shake your head. “No. Not at this moment at least.” Confusion laces his features, but you press your body impossibly closer to the railing. “I wanted to ask for some space. It’s… it’s uncomfortable like this. Please take a step back.”

Childe obliges instantly. Blue eyes watch your once white knuckles have colour return to them, and suddenly he feels a little childish for cornering you like that. A quiet sigh from your end steals his attention, yet he remains standing where he is, another demand on the tip of his tongue.

“Move in with me,” he says. “Move into my room. It’s been too long in the guest room already. You don’t need to stay there anymore.”

Frankly, you’re surprised. You thought he forgot about that by now considering that he never brought it up again.

“You’ve seen it. My room is bigger. I got this place because the master bedroom was big and it’ll easily fit both our things. You can make the guest room your study room if you want, but just move in already.”

He gives you that look again, the demanding one that makes you painfully aware of how dull and lifeless his eyes are. Although you have grown used to it and it doesn’t bother you as much, it still reminds you that if he wished, he could have done worse things to you. But he hasn’t. He waits and waits and waits till he’s about to bubble over. Till his feelings threaten to boil and spill out of the pot and even then he somehow calms it down enough to be coherent. Al because he promised to think about you before his own selfish feelings.

“We can start tomorrow,” Childe suggests, “or even tonight, there’s still time. You’ve been living with me for long enough. It’s time you actually moved in.”

Even while you are quiet, Childe has a million thoughts running through his head. Bed, lonely, empty, cold sheets, cold pillows, empty dressing table, empty nightstand. He recalls the room you’ve turned into your personal haven, the cluttered dressing table, the nightstand with a ton of wires, the eraser dust that’s almost always on the ground near your table, and the warm feeling that envelopes him whenever he enters this little haven of yours.

He needs to have you more or else he doesn’t know what he’d do. And he doesn’t want to know what he’d do to you.

“I hear you,” you speak up, successfully interjecting his thoughts, “but we’re not in a relationship. We can’t just start doing married couple things.” You make a face, scrunching up your nose like you always do. “Living in different rooms is appropriate because we’re still-”

“Marry me then.”

You shut your mouth immediately.

“Your problem is our relationship right?” Childe takes a step closer, eyes focused on yours. “Then marry me. Problem solved.”

“Wait. Ajax, that’s too fast. Calm down.”

“That’s not ‘too fast’. We’ve been living together for almost a year now. We’ve known each other for over a whole year. This isn’t fast.”

Regardless, you try to de-escalate it. De-escalate his rashness. “Okay. I understand. But we’re too young and my parents wouldn’t allow something like this so suddenly-”

“Leave them to me. I’ll handle getting their approval. They seem to like me anyway. That’s all you’re worried about right? And we’re not young. We’re adults.”

The apprehension grows. You do not know how this idea popped into his head, but you blame yourself for mentioning ‘married couple’ earlier. Why is he so obsessed? Is having you in his home constantly under his vision not sufficient?

“So what’s your answer? Or do you want to wait while I get a ring and you speak to your parents?”

The anxiety starts eating you from the inside. You know you can’t escape him. You’re too deep into his clutches to even consider escape, but you still hold onto feeble hope that you can delay the inevitable just a little longer. “Fine. You’re ready and okay for such a thing, but I’m not ready for such a big step.”

Contrary to your expectations, Childe’s mood further sours. “That’s what you always say.” As soon as the words are uttered, Childe remembers thinking to himself how he hoped you won’t blame him for anything he might end up doing tonight. Well. If it allows him to have you, he’d do anything. “The only difference would be that we’d be closer. Nothing else.”

“We’re close enough,” you meekly comment.

“So you don’t want to marry me?”

“No, it’s not that I don’t, but…”

“But?”

You think over the time you’ve lived under his roof. He has been controlling, sure, but he has been more accommodating and understanding. If you were to bet your life on one thing, it would be that Ajax would always unequivocally love and care for you. Besides, this is inevitable. The moment he locked eyes with you at your job, it had been decided that this would happen. That you would be his.

Delaying and denying all this simply makes you miserable. Who are you to deny such affection? Such love that suffocates you, surrounds you constantly with eyes in the shadows watching your every breath. Who are you to deny a man who has countless times told and showed you that he’d drop to his knees for you on a moment’s notice?

He may control your life and future, but you control him as well. Or you do to an extent at least. What his words cannot express, his hands and eyes do, and those things are precisely what have kept you going on the hope that the inevitable is not as horrifying as you delude yourself into thinking of it.

Ajax loves you, and you’d be damned if you refuse his love. Not only is there no way out, but you think you do not want out anymore. You’re too deep in his web.

Besides, you know that if you were to refuse him, he’d try again and again before eventually forcing it upon you. It’s better to accept. You can’t delay the inevitable.

Warm hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing the corners of your eyes. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, and you blink away tears you did not know you were shedding.

Minutes pass on the secluded corner of the pier, and when he is satisfied with how much you have calmed down, he lets you go. Hands hang by his sides as he waits for an answer, but you don’t keep him waiting. With a gentle pat to his cheek, you give him your answer.

“I’ll start moving my things in the morning.”

His celebratory smile only grows when you continue speaking.

“And… I’ll start talking to my parents. I’ll let you know the updates.”

-

You were in the middle of organising your things when the realisation dawned on you. You’re moving into his room. All of your things will go there. All of your things. Does this mean you both are officially in a relationship? That means he’s going to wake up next to you, go to sleep next to you, and you’re going to share a wardrobe with him. Even a bathroom.

This might just make his possessive nature worse. But it’s alright. You can talk sense into him. He usually does listen to you.

Nevertheless, you can’t help but wonder… Why are you accepting of this? Somehow the idea of being so close doesn’t bother you as much as you think it should. Do you really like him that way? Are you in denial?

Ajax’s voice calls out to you, asking if you need any help. You’re currently in the middle of going through your clothes, and you would rather he not bear witness to seeing your undergarments and clothes thrown haphazardly across the bed. Thus, you tell him no and continue organising, putting home clothes separate and classifying the rest accordingly.

When those are done, you let the piles be on the bed and move to your dressing table. Expired and empty containers are chucked into the bin, and you grab the rest and move outside, passing by a curious Ajax in the living room and making yourself home in his room. The bottles are carefully placed amongst his things, and soon the dressing table looks cluttered.

Well, to be used is to be messy. It’s okay.

You return to the piles of clothes and transport each pile one by one onto his bed. When all have been gathered, you place them in the space he’s apparently kept empty for you ever since he moved here in an orderly fashion, making sure all your undergarments are in the locked drawer instead of the regular one. There are no fingers or accusations pointed, but there is also no complete trust in this matter.

Ajax trails behind you this time, curiously watching you take your toiletries and place them in his bathroom. He eyes the addition of a new shampoo and conditioner and other bottles he doesn’t care to classify but is happy to simply see them there. You make the journey back to your ex-room and gather all your chargers and wires only to find yourself untangling them first.

“Do you need help?”

You’re quick to refuse, but he still stands there watching. Gathering them all in your hands, Ajax is tempted to offer his help again but closes his mouth when he remembers you telling him to “not butt in” while you move your things. So, he watches you and trails behind you. He follows you around and watches you as you bump into the sofa’s edge when he calls your name and stumble forward only to lose your footing and fall straight onto the floor.

It did not help that your arm had slid against the edge of the centre table and you horribly skinned the back of your arm.

Ajax stands there, horrified for a moment, before he ignores the cluttered mess of chargers and wires and crouches down beside you, immediately checking your injuries and helping you sit up. But it does not help him when he sees blood slowly starting to ooze from the mess of broken skin and you wince when he gently grabs your hand to look at the wound.

Regardless, he cups your face with the other hand while simultaneously looking you over for other injuries. When you assure him and his repeated questions that it’s just your arm, he relaxes a bit. However, he cannot help it. There’s more blood now, not a lot but enough to completely cover the broken skin, and if he leaves it be, it might start trickling down your arm before the wounds close.

So, Ajax does what his mind wants him to do. He kisses the skin near the wound at first, completely ignoring your questioning look, and slowly moves towards the injury. Soft lips glide over the skin, inching closer towards the desired target. Then, when he can feel your gentle tugs to be let free, he tightens his grip and licks.

Ajax licks some of the blood, the texture of broken skin welcomed by his tongue. You sit there horrified and extremely confused while he licks it again before freezing and letting go.

Awkward eye contact ensues, and your face clearly shows how utterly puzzled and alarmed you are. Nevermind the fact that those were wet licks and your arm has his saliva on it and the broken skin he lapped up is on his tongue which he is sneakily trying to swallow.

Minutes pass, and you finally gather the composure to speak. “Ajax. What the fuck?”

He is quick to be defensive, knowing full well you’ve been so good to him these days and he can’t afford to scare you off. “I just… I let my intrusive thoughts win. Sorry.”

Your terror only grows. “I don’t even want to know what your intrusive thoughts are anymore. Well. At least your licking distracted me from the pain. It doesn’t hurt anymore with your spit on it. Gross. Wash your mouth after this.”

Somehow, a smile stretches on his face. “Wash my mouth? After getting to have a piece of you? Sweetheart, a little bit of you is in me. Why would I ever not want that?” You open your mouth to interject but are cut off. “If I could, I’d make us become one. That way, I don’t have to worry about you thinking of anything else except me.”

You’re quite… speechless. Did he really just indirectly admit he wants to eat you? What the hell??

“Speaking of which,” Ajax whispers, “forgive me but another intrusive thought won.” With that, he moves closer. Close enough in your face to have your noses brushing. To his surprise, you do not create distance, allowing him to fan his breath over your lips as he slowly turns his head.

The only thing stopping his lips from kissing yours directly is his hand on your lips. 

When he pulls away, Ajax’s blue eyes meet your widened ones, your face flushed and clearly flustered. Unfortunately for you, a grin is on his face. “I’ll kiss you for real when you say yes to the ring. Then, I'll make your body mine too.”

With that, he gets up and grabs the first aid box while you sit with his spit drying on your arm. You are sometimes genuinely terrified of him. This is one of those times.

-

“Don’t lick me ever again.”

Ajax frowns at that. “If you forbid me, then how am I supposed to go dow-”

“Stop! That’s enough!” You successfully shut him up, and he continues disinfecting your injury in silence. “Do not spew such mindless words ever again.”

Unfortunately, he catches onto your words, smiling mischievously. “I’ll do it if you do one thing.” When asked for his conditions, Ajax shamelessly gives his request. “Tell me you’re mine. That I’m the person you want.”

When you show hesitation, he is quick to remind you that you’ve agreed to completely move in with him and agreed to sleeping with him. Thus, you acquiesce.

“I’m… Ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this.” He chuckles, but you continue humouring him. “I’m yours, Ajax.”

He pushes further. “And?”

Your cheeks heat up, and you meekly let out the second part. “And… you’re the person I want.”

As soon as the desired words leave your mouth, Ajax is soothed. Soon, he’s disinfected the mess of broken skin and tied a bandage around your arm for the time being so that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself again. When asked about his payment, you simply pat his cheek like you do, but decide to scratch the skin behind his ear before travelling upwards into his hair.

With a last pat to his head, you leave him a blushing mess with messy hair as you return to the wires scattered on the ground, picking them up before continuing what you were doing. It doesn’t serve him right that you casually rendered him paralysed and just got up and left. But then again, that is the least you should do against him after what he has done to you.

Flustering someone does not compare to putting them in a fancy cage. Well, Ajax’s deceit makes it hurt more. If you knew the full extent of his desires, you would never let him breathe the same air as you. But you do not. And that is precisely why he plans to slowly let them surface, to allow you time to accept him. He just hopes he doesn’t grow impatient with how good you’ve been.

(Bonus scene)

“What do you mean you want a pillow wall between us?”

You don’t mind Ajax’s childish whines, instead busying yourself with moisturising your face. But when he moves to remove a pillow, you are quick to turn and give him a glare. “I agreed to sleeping next to you and moving into your room. The least you can do is give me time to settle in and let me have a damn pillow wall.”

Ajax slowly puts the pillow back down quietly, and you turn around to close the moisturiser bottle. Though you catch a glimpse of him glaring daggers into the pillow wall, you continue cleaning the clutter of your things on the dressing table.

You’ll take it away in a few days. Let him suffer for a few nights.

[lvscoups]

just friends ; choi seungcheol x reader

summary choi seungcheol's been your best friend since elementary school, and now you're both eighteen, about to leave for university. the last thing that you want is to go to university as a virgin, so he offers to take your virginity. surely this won't make either of you question your feelings for each other, right? wc 5k tags slow burn, childhood best friends to lovers (somewhat), barb seungcheol, underage drinking/smoking, pwp, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, afab!reader, 18+ MINORS DNI

eighteen. what an age- when you were thirteen, you thought that by now you’d have a hot, popular boyfriend, have gone to hundreds of parties, have a huge friend group who would all go to the mall and travel together, and maybe even have a scholarship to harvard. but you started university in three months and you had nothing to show for it. it would keep you up at night, all the dreams you had when you were younger, and how few came true. you only had a couple of friends, a shitty job at a convenience store, and the last party you’d gone to was for your niece’s 8th birthday. what weighed on your mind the most, though, was that you still didn’t have a boyfriend- and you were still a virgin. university was your last shot to really live out those dreams, to go to parties, hook up with strangers, go clubbing.. but, god, the last thing you wanted was to lose your virginity to some random person you’d meet at a house party. but high school was over, and, really, what relationship could you establish with a man in a couple of months that would make him someone you’d want to lose your virginity to?

“seungcheol’s here for you!” your mom yelled from the kitchen. you came running to the front door with a smile on your face- he’s back from his vacation, fucking finally. “so we’re going to the beach?” you asked as soon as you saw him. “yeah, i think miles and his girl are coming, rosie is bringing some people too.” he smiled. “are you ready or are you gonna make me wait an hour again?” “the latter, i didn’t think you’d be coming so early.” he follows you to your room, sitting on the side of your bed as you pack. oh, choi seungcheol. your best friend since… sixth grade? you’ve watched him come and go through different relationships- he was someone you envied, living the guy version of the life you wanted for yourself. out of the handful of house parties you’d been to, he’d dragged you to almost all of them. you didn’t know what you’d do without him, he was always there for you, the one who introduced you to almost all of your friends, who would help you cheat on tests. without him, you’d be regretting your high school experience even more. “let’s go?” you pull your duffel bag over your shoulder, looking at him. “finally,”

he was one of the only people you knew who had his own car- his father got it for him for his seventeenth birthday. it wasn’t the best, but it was really nice. you were pretty sure it was a ford or something similar because it had one of those big open trunks people use to put wood and furniture in. no idea why he needed one of those, because he was always showing off how he was strong enough to carry anything by himself, but it was still cool. the two of you would put pillows and blankets in it and lay down, talking and drinking together, listening to music on your cheap bluetooth speaker. you got into his car, leaving your duffle bag at your feet, setting up your playlist and the aux while he started up the car. “i can’t believe you didn’t take me with you to the bahamas, you bitch.” you joked. “luggage costs are crazy, i already spend so much money on you,” he teased back. “it’s an hour drive to the beach, by the way.” “no problem,” after your playlist started up, the two of you drove in silence, partially. there was some small talk about the bahamas and a lot of you singing along to nicki minaj, who seungcheol always managed to sneak into the queue. “me and kim broke up,” seungcheol said during a particularly quiet song, his eyes still on the road. “and you didn’t tell me?” you replied, looking over at him with a shocked expression on your face. “yeah, i dunno. it just didn’t…” he trailed off. “it wasn’t a big deal to me.” “i liked her! remember when she gave you all those leftover cookies from… was it her church’s bake sale?” “yeah, i guess.” he stared off. “she was nice, i dunno why it didn’t affect me.” “god, remember when you broke up with sierra? that was fucking crazy.” you turned back, looking at the road, too. “sorry. why’d you…?” “it was her.” “shit, sorry.” “no, no, it’s fine, really. i lost interest and stopped talking to her as much and we called about it and decided to break it off.” “just like that?” “well not just like that. it wasn’t like i stopped talking to her all of a sudden.” he turned to you, smiling. “use your brain, dumbass.” “school is over, i don’t need to do that anymore.” you laughed. “but really, that’s crazy. i’m glad it’s not… bad, but, like, you two dated for a while.” “i wouldn’t say three months is that long,” he replied. “at least i’ll have a hot boy summer, or something. ewww, sorry. that was so bad.” “it was. but you’re right, have fun! emma’s single now, too. maybe you two can get together.” “i think i’m fine. i don’t know if i even want a girlfriend right now. maybe i’ll meet some hot twenty year old at uni. who knows.” he paused. “is emma really single?”

he turned onto a more bumpy, dirt road, and soon the sounds of the waves and music came closer and closer until the beach came into view. “parking’s gonna be a fucking nightmare.” he sighed, looking at the hundreds of cars parked throughout the parking lot. you picked up your phone, unplugging the aux cord to call rosie. “where is everybody?” you asked, putting the phone on speaker. “we’re near the playground and this barbeque thing. leia, where are we?” you could hear some people talking in the background. “leia’s sending a photo to you right now. bye!” “bye,” you hung up. “here, there’s a photo of the map… we’re at the entrance, right? we need to take a left until we see a washroom. can we stop at the washroom? i really need to pee.” “okay, be quick, though.”

after another half hour, you finally parked. “what did we bring?” you asked seungcheol as you both stepped out of the car. “just drinks and our swim stuff. don’t worry, just go ahead- i’ll carry everything.” you took your duffle bag and trudged through the sand- your cheap dollar store flip flops felt like they would break at any moment during the long journey, your heels burning every time they would touch even a bit of sand. “hey!” you called out, waving to everybody once you finally found them. “y/n!!” rosie replied, getting up and running to hug you, making you both fall on the ground. “ow, shit!” you exclaimed, getting up and laughing off the burning pain of the sand hitting your back. “sorry we took so long- cheol is on his way with everything. parking was crazy.” “can’t relate, we’ve all been here since six,” leia laughed. “miles and the other guys are in the water, we were gonna get lunch soon if you wanna come, though.” “i dunno, i think i might just settle in first. get comfy.” “totally fair, we can wait for you.” leia looked over to the water, where you could make out a bunch of guys swimming and splashing each other with water. “i don’t think the guys are getting out anytime soon, so don’t worry at all.” “thanks,” and then you heard seungcheol’s voice- well, his whine. “the sand…” he groaned, trudging towards you. when he finally reached you, he dropped the blue cooler and other bags down on the ground. “shit! that was torture…” “your fault for not asking for help.” you said, opening one of the bags and taking out a beach towel, laying it on the ground. “come on, sit down. tell the girls the news!” “what news?” rosie asked excitedly. “yeah what- oh,” seungcheol said. “it’s really not a big deal, y/n. me and kim broke up, that’s all.” “WHAT?” leia shouted. “tell me everything!” you got comfortable, sitting cross-legged under an umbrella while you listened to seungcheol recount everything.

“can someone help me with my sunscreen?” you asked. “rosie?” you turned onto your back and wiggled your shoulders. “no, you perv!” she laughed. you pouted jokingly before seungcheol approached you. “you can’t do anything by yourself, huh?” he teased, taking the bottle of sunscreen and opening it, putting some on your back and rubbing it in. “nevermind, seungcheol’s definitely the perv,” rosie replied. he laughed, and you closed your eyes, your head resting in your hands as you let the sun warm your body, waiting for seungcheol to finish. after a while, he hit your back gently a couple of times. “you’re welcome.” “thanks?” you replied, getting up. “let’s swim?” you asked the rest of the group. rosie and leia got up, taking off their sandals and flip-flops, agreeing immediately. “i’ll watch everybody’s stuff, since nobody else will.” seungcheol replied, sighing and crossing his arms dramatically. “thank you!!” you all called out to him as you ran off to the water.

the sun had set, and the air had gotten cooler. it was dark outside as you all laid together on the beach towels, the big, blue cooler seungcheol had brought now half empty. of course, seungcheol hadn’t drank a thing, despite his seemingly endless whining about just how bad he wanted to drink, how jealous he was of everyone who was drinking, how he wished you could drive.. it just went on and on. you hadn’t drunk, either, in forced solidarity with him. neither had miles’ girlfriend, bea, who was everyone else’s designated driver. you and seungcheol were lying down together, both wide awake from the chocolate starbucks doubleshot you’d shared an hour before. you both stared up at the sky. “it’s, like, two months until you leave.” seungcheol remarked. “a little less, right?” “yeah, but same thing. i can’t process it.” “i wish you’d been accepted. we could have gone together, rent a studio apartment. it’d look so cool. you’d have one side and it’d be, like, red or something, and mine would be… i dunno. it’d be cool.” “we should. maybe i’ll go online and move with you.” “that’d be so cool.” “i can’t imagine what it’ll be like without you.” “you can still call me. it’s not like i’m dying, stupid.” “yeah, but… you know.” “yeah,” silence. you shifted your attention somewhat to the conversation the rest of the people were having- something about how prom went, but you couldn’t really focus on it. “i’m leaving high school as a virgin.” you said, breaking the silence. “oh my god, you are. holy shit, that’s hilarious.” he started laughing. “i have no idea what i’m gonna do.” “what do you mean? you’re not gonna be the forty-year-old virgin or something. you’ll just lose your virginity to some college guy.” “i don’t really want that.” “don’t you wanna have fun in college? you mentioned that a lot.” “yeah, duh. but i don’t wanna lose my virginity to some random man.” “too late for you to not do that. you shoulda tried to get a boyfriend before high school ended.” “ugh, you don’t get it.” “what don’t i get?” “i dunno. this is weird.” more silence, but from the corner of your eye you saw him nod.

“what did you mean, about all of that stuff you were talking about earlier?” he asked on your way to the car. “what stuff?” “me not getting you wanting to lose your virginity or something. or not wanting to lose your virginity.” “oh.” you paused. “like, i dunno. i kinda wish i had a boyfriend or something. like i had had more of a life in high school. and now i have to just settle for losing my virginity to some guy i’ll probably never talk to again.” “isn’t that what you want?” “no, that’s what you don’t get. like i wanna have fun and, like, hook up with people or whatever. but i don’t wanna lose my virginity to a random person. that’s different.” “yeah, i get that.” “but, like, in a month and a half, you can’t really get a boyfriend. even if i did, i don’t wanna lose my virginity to someone i’ve known for less than two months.” “yeah.” you got in the car and waited as he started the engine. in the meantime, you set up the aux again. after a while, he broke the silence. “i can do it.” he said. “what?” “i’ll do it. if you want me to,” he added. “there’s so many weirdos out there. if they find out you’re a virgin they might, like, take advantage of you or something. we can do it, get it over with, you know?” you paused. it wasn’t a comfortable silence. “sorry. i don’t wanna overstep a boundary or anything.” he added, again. “no, no you didn’t. well you did but not in a weird way or anything. it’s just…” “yeah, i get it. i’m sorry.” “no, no, no. seriously, you’re fine. i’m not opposed to that idea or anything.” “yeah?” “yeah.. i mean, it’s better than what you said- losing my virginity to a weirdo or something.” “so then…?” “it’ll be weird, but let’s do it. i might change my mind but for now, let’s do it. yeah.”

you’d never thought of seungcheol in that way. maybe in your darkest, most desperate hours, but that was it. it wasn’t like you didn’t take notice to how huge his biceps were, or his fucking crazy jawline, or how perfectly everything on his face complimented each other, but.. you did that platonically. it would just be weird to do that. but now that the two of you had agreed to have sex together, you assumed nothing could be weirder than that. so you tried to will yourself to like him, or that’s what you told yourself. it wasn’t gonna be an enjoyable first time if you didn’t at least have some attraction to him, you thought. so you’d find yourself thinking about him a lot. at night, your mind would wander to his hands, his arms, and sometimes your fingers would brush against your clothed pussy, playing with it, imagining it was him. of course, it was all a part of your effort to have your ideal first time, at least, as ideal as it could be, considering it was with your best friend and not your imaginary boyfriend, and after high school had ended. you assumed sex was better when you were attracted to the person it was with, so it only made sense to create some attraction to him.

“have you ever.. thought about what you wanted?” the two of you were relaxing in the back of his car, where he’d put up pillows and blankets again. you’d brought some chips, and the two of you were drinking and eating, talking about whatever. “like, sexually?” you replied. “i guess. i mean for your first time.” “i don’t know. something romantic, in a bed, at night. i don’t wanna eat food first- i think that’s kinda gross. kissing someone after eating? ew..” “is that really it?” “yeah, i guess. i don’t really mind the rest.” “okay, okay.” he nodded. “i don’t wanna ask too many questions, it’s just… i wanna make sure that it’s special.” you blushed. “thank you,”

you’d arranged a date- the twelfth of august. you were leaving by the twentieth, so it seemed like a good time. it was the last day of july when you made the decision, and you found time flying by. seungcheol came over a lot more than he usually did, which was already a lot- he was your best friend, after all. as the twelfth grew closer and closer, you began to notice smaller things, like the way his eyes would linger on your chest and the flush that would appear on his face when you two were especially close. you pretended like you didn’t see it, the same way you assumed he pretended he didn’t see you looking at his arms a little too long when he crossed them. it was all a part of your shared, unspoken effort to make your first time more enjoyable, of course. the two of you were friends. just friends.

he’d invited you to the birthday party his family was having, but you didn’t feel like intruding on something like that, so instead you went to the party miles was throwing for him that night. bea picked you up in her car- you were nervous about the ride if you were being honest. it was the first time you’d ever driven in her car and you’d heard that she’d had to pay for the entire repair fee for her mom’s car after she got into a car accident. she swore that she’d learned her lesson but you would be lying if you said you weren’t scared out of your mind every time she took a turn. the party was small, with just your friend group and then some other friends, and then friends of friends. you stuck with leia, sitting beside her and listening to her talk about the date she’d gone on the day before. eventually, leia ran off with another guy, and you went to the front porch. two girls were sitting on the front chairs, and you took a cigarette they offered you. you weren’t a smoker, but you didn’t have anything else to do. you recognized the one who offered you the cig as bea’s sister- it was crazy how similar they looked. same hair, same nose, same lips, except she was at least five inches shorter than bea. after a while, seungcheol came out to the porch, too. you began to sing happy birthday to him, and the other girls joined in, too. after clapping, he asked you, “what’s up?” “huh?” “i was looking for you, i haven’t seen you this whole time. where were you?” “oh,” you paused, stubbing out your cigarette on the ashtray in between the two girls. “i was hanging out with leia, then i came here. i didn’t wanna be in your way, it’s your party.” “we’ve been friends six years, come on. you can’t be serious.” he moved away to another corner, out of earshot from the other girls. “come on,” he whispered. you followed him. “you’re friends with everyone else here, too. it’s kinda weird to just stick to your side the whole time. i don’t wanna seem like that kinda person.” “okay, fair, but i don’t think the people here think you’re like that. they all know you.” “okay, okay.” you said, holding his hand. “let’s go back, then.”

it was on the ninth, while you were at his house, eating leftover pizza and watching youtube, when he put his hand on your thigh. he was talking to you about a game he’d started playing, putting his pizza down so he could really tell you about it, and when the conversation drifted off into something else, his hand was still there. you knew if you did anything even slightly implying you were uncomfortable, he’d move it- seungcheol was always looking out for you. you let his hand rest there for a while until he had to get up to grab something. while he was gone, you thought to yourself about it. by the time he was back, you’d made up an excuse for everything- including an excuse for why you gently moved his hand back to the same spot it was before.

august eleventh, he came over. he was sitting on your floor, head resting against your bed, which you were lying down on. “you’re sure about tomorrow?” he asked. looking up at you. “yeah. why wouldn’t i be?” “i just wanna make sure.” he smiled. “no pressure at all.”

and then it was nine p.m., august twelfth. your parents were conveniently gone for the night, to a family friend’s house to celebrate something or other. you didn’t know and, honestly, you were so nervous that you didn’t really care. he knocked at your door and you nearly fell on your way there. “hi,” “hi.” he leaned against the doorframe slightly, smiling. “you’re sure?” “yeah.” you both made your way to your room, your face hot. “i’m sorry, i have no idea what to do… i thought we could watch a movie or something?” “yeah, of course.” he sat down on your bed. “don’t worry about it, really.” you sat down beside him, grabbing your laptop and opening up netflix. after you settled on a movie to watch, you both got comfortable and you hesitantly rest your head on his shoulder. to say it was awkward would be an understatement. it was petrifying. your palms were sweaty and your heart was racing and this was all before he even touched you. it was an hour into the movie when he put his hand on your thigh again. it was summer, so you were in shorts, which made the sensation all the more incredible, you felt his hand move up slowly until he was toying with the hem of your shorts. “can i take them off?” he whispered in your ear. “yeah,” you put the laptop down on the far edge of your bed, and he slid your shorts off, holding up your legs just slightly. you turned to look at him, and there was his face. maybe it was the adrenaline rush or maybe it was something more, but you closed your eyes and soon found your lips on his. you’d had your first kiss already, but this time it was different. you found yourself melting into the kiss, your hands in his hair his hands cupping your face, before you felt his hands moving and you shifted on top of him. he pulled away. “is this okay?” he asked. “yes,” you whispered, pulling him back into the kiss and letting him put his hands under your shirt. the sensation of his hands on your breasts left you feeling even more horny, grinding down onto his crotch. eventually, you pulled away, standing up on your knees and slowly sliding his jeans off of him. he took the opportunity to gently push you onto your back, getting on top of you. he kissed you one more time before slowly leaving kisses all over your body, moving from your face to behind your ear to your neck, sucking on your breast. “you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, his voice deeper than usual. he moved back to kissing you, and you felt his hands go under your underwear hem. you found yourself moaning into his kisses as he rubbed your clit, then slowly put one finger into you, his palm still on your clit as he inserted another. “you’re… really good,” you moaned, after a little while, he took his fingers out, and you still found your walls closing around nothing, “is it okay if i put it in?” he asked, his voice still low and husky. “mhm,” you looked up at him. maybe you were caught up in the moment, maybe it was the moonlight peeking from the sheer curtains on your bedroom window, or maybe it was something else entirely, something that wouldn’t go away when the sun came back up, but just the sight of him in the darkness, his long black hair just slightly obscuring his face as he looked up at you through his long lashes, made your eyes almost water. at that moment, all that you could think about was how lucky you were, how grateful you were to be in this situation, and how happy you were. “are you okay?” he breathed, snapping you back to reality. his brows furrowed, the lust in his eyes being replaced with concern. “y-yeah, i’m great.” you smiled, looking up at him. “just making sure.” he reached into the pockets of his now discarded pants, closing your laptop before grabbing a condom out of the pocket, opening the packaging, and putting it on. he held your hand as he positioned himself in between your legs, slowly sliding into you. “let me know if you’re uncomfortable.” he whispered. you closed your eyes, and the stretch of your walls hurt at first- but soon the pain turned into pleasure, the most pleasure you'd ever experienced.

you moaned as you leaned up to kiss him, using your free hand to bring him closer to you. he shifted a bit, suddenly thrusting into you at the perfect angle and leaving you a mess, moaning his name and when you weren’t, you could hear him moaning yours. it was such an intimate moment and the way he was fucking you was so perfect that you found yourself forgetting that he was your best friend. you were whispering praises to him, telling him how good he was and how big his cock was and all these things you would never have expected you’d be saying to choi seungcheol, but here you were. his thrusts got more sloppy and his kisses became more messy and passionate and you knew he was about to come. soon, you did too, and the sensation left your head blank. you felt him pull out of you and lay down beside you. “you want me to run you a bath?” he asked. “yeah,” you looked over at him. “thank you, cheol. that was…” “amazing? life-changing?” he joked. “mhm,” you kissed him. “i’m really glad we did that.” “yeah. come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

he left after making sure you were all good, kissing you one more time before going. you didn’t think much of anything that night, but when you woke up your mind was racing- that was after you were able to confirm that the night you just had wasn’t a dream. you assumed seungcheol’s mind was racing, too, because aside from sending you some tiktoks and occasionally talking to you about something or other, it was radio silence from him. you were torn about it- on one hand, you were massively grateful. you knew it’d be awkward to talk to him after everything. but on the other hand, you were almost hurt. it was definitely irrational, and you knew that, but you almost felt like he didn’t talk to you because he didn’t like you after the two of you had sex or, worse, he had just been using you. then he called you, three days after everything. “hello?” “hey,” he said. “sorry for not talking to you for a while.” “yeah,” “i needed some time to think about things. it’s not like you did anything wrong though. i still need time, i’m calling to tell you that this has nothing to do with you,” he paused. “really, you were incredible, and that was one of the best moments of my life. and i don’t want to stop talking to you. i just need some time to myself for a bit.” “thank you,” you blushed. “but… yeah, that’s fine. don’t worry about it. but don’t take all the time you need. i leave in, like, five days.” you laughed, though there wasn’t anything funny. “yeah,” he replied, his voice somewhat… sad? you couldn’t really pinpoint what it was. “you gotta promise me that we’ll hang out at least once before then, ‘kay?” “okay,” he paused. “i gotta go, though.” “bye,” “see you,” he said before hanging up.

the phone call left you frustrated for the next few days, which only worsened how sad you felt to be leaving your home and your town. rosie and leia were constantly coming over, but, as much as you loved them, it wasn't the same as hanging out with seungcheol.

you'd been invited to leia's house on the nineteenth, to watch a movie or something. she drove you there, suspiciously giddy with excitement, and once you arrived at her house, you realized there was something more going on. she opened the door for you, and instead of being greeted by her parents and nobody else, you were greeted by a whole crowd of people. somehow, leia and rosie had managed to gather everybody for a surprise going-away party- even your cousin was there. you made your way through the crowd, talking to everybody, so happy from seeing all these people you loved and had spent your teenage years with that you forgot about everything with seungcheol entirely. in fact, you forgot about everything with him throughout most of the night. but then you found him, sitting alone and playing some game on his phone, and he looked up and saw you, and you immediately knew something was up. "can i talk to you?"

he took you to a bedroom and closed the door behind you. "i wanted to tell you something." he said. the two of you sat side by side on the edge of the bed. "i know it's really late to tell you this, but i figured because you're leaving tomorrow this is… my last chance to tell you." he paused. "i don't think it was just because of that night and i don't want you to think that, either. it's also not because of kim, even though the timing would make you think that… i was really thinking about this, and i think… i don't know how to say this, but…" you looked at him and he looked at you and suddenly it all clicked in your head. every little thing you made some stupid excuse for, like how you could only think about him when you touched yourself, or how you couldn't pull your eyes away from his crazy huge arms, or how your heart fluttered when you both made eye contact. it all made sense to you know. "i love you too, cheol."

[thetriumphantpanda]

you got all my love | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Well, it was always going to happen, wasn't it? No-one had banked on a connection that ran this deep though.

Warnings | No smut, only softness. A little angst. Talk of pregnancy. Alcohol consumption. Smut will return in full force in the final two parts.

Word Count | 1.7K

Authors Note | Okay, so here it is! Everything we've been working towards so far. There's no smut here, just some softness, but I promise there are two more parts and this little threesome is far from over! If you're enjoying this so far, then please consider leaving comments, reblogging or popping into my ask box with some love - I have really enjoyed interacting with you all over this! And, if you'd like to leave a tip (As always, no pressure what-so-ever) then you can do so here on Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You have to rub your eyes until they sting to make sure you’re not seeing things. Then you have to do another one just to be sure. Then, just in case, another one just for luck, but all three show the same thing. Two pink lines. Those two fucking pink lines you had been praying for all along, on every single test. You’re pregnant. You’re finally fucking pregnant. 

You gather all three tests in your hands once you’ve put the cap back on the bit you’ve peed on, before you bound down the stairs. It’s early in the morning and Tommy is stood at the coffee maker, waiting for enough liquid to filter to fill his mug. He turns around at the commotion of you almost falling into the table after forgetting to step on the final step. You’re breathless. 

“What on earth is the matter, sugar?” He asks, leaning against the kitchen counter. 

You hold up the three tests, but realise he can’t see anything with the grip you’ve got them held in. You take the strides to close the distance between you, setting them down on the counter next to the coffee machine. You watch, with a grin on your face as he picks one up, slamming it straight back down onto the counter when he sees the lines. 

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” He breathes, turning to you, “You’re?” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I’m pregnant.” 

His arms are crushing around you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. It finally worked. You’d finally been given everything you’d ever wanted. You pull back enough to fuse your lips with Tommy’s, before you pull away and realise you’re both crying. 

“You’re gonna be a dad, Tommy.” You grin, pressing your lips all over his face, wherever you can reach. 

“And you’re gonna be a mama, baby.” He speaks softly, setting your feet back on the ground, “Don’t know how I’m supposed to go to work now, I wanna tell everyone.” 

You grin and cup his cheek, “I know baby, me too,” You look down at your feet before meeting his eye again, “There is someone we need to tell though.” 

Joel is as welcoming as ever when you turn up that evening. He’s shouting up the stairs for Sarah to come and say hello, which she does, giving you both a hug before apologizing, glaring at her father, and informing you both that it’s already past her bedtime and she needs to brush her teeth. 

“You want a drink?” Joel asks Tommy, who agrees to a glass of whiskey, “What about you, darlin’?” 

“No, thank you, I’ll be driving back.” You smile, feeling around in the back pocket of your jeans for the lone test you’d brought with you, keeping it a secret to yourself for now. 

Joel makes you a cup of tea and you sit around and chat for a while. Tommy filling him in on how things had been on site that morning, Joel talking about how he’d been to Sarah’s parent’s evening and how proud he was that she was doing so well. There was some off-hand comment that you frowned at, something about her inheriting the brains from her mother because they certainly hadn’t come from him, but it had been a nice conversation otherwise. 

When there is a lull in the conversation, Tommy reaches across the table to take hold of your hand, sitting forward in his chair, “We have something to tell you.” He smiles at Joel. 

You look to Tommy, reaching into your back pocket to fish the pregnancy test out before you slide it over the table to Joel. You watch as he picks it up, bringing it close enough to his face so he can see those two pink lines. Then he’s slamming it down on the table with a grin, all three of you standing in unison. 

It’s you he comes to first. He wraps those big, strong arms around your waist and pulls you into a hug. You wrap your own around his neck and giggle as he congratulates you, right into your ear. Then, he sets you down, a chaste kiss to your cheek, before he moves onto Tommy. 

It’s a scene that makes you want to cry. Tommy stretches out his hand as if he wanted Joel to shake it, but instead, he pulls Tommy into the biggest hug you’ve ever seen the brothers give each other. They’re slapping each other’s backs, pulling apart just enough to grin at each other, before they embraced again. 

When Joel finally does let Tommy go, Tommy comes straight to your side, pulling you into him as Joel leans against his kitchen counter. 

“Listen, I don’t want to make this a huge thing,” Tommy starts, rubbing the back of his neck with that nervous energy you remember he had when he first suggested this, “But thank you, for everything, for giving us everything, I know you and I know you don’t want anything as thanks, but just know how grateful we are for this brother.” 

He shakes his head with a little smile, “I told you, anythin’ for family.” And with a shrug, that’s pretty much it. Tommy gives him another hug before he’s turning to you. 

“I’ll let you two have a minute alone,” Tommy smiles, giving your hand a squeeze, fishing the car keys out of his pocket, “I’ll see you outside.” 

Joel is leaning against his kitchen counter with an expression you can’t place, so you take a few steps towards him, taking his big hand in your own before you place a kiss to the inside of his palm, trailing your lips in soft kisses up his arm until you reach the crook of his elbow where his flannel sits. Then, you pull that arm around your shoulder, wrapping your own arms around his waist in a hug. 

He's quick to return it, squeezing you into his body, as his other arm comes up to cradle your head to his chest, running along the back of your head as you breathe in his scent. He dips and presses his lips, ever-so-gently, to the crown of your head. 

“Thank you,” You whisper softly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, “I know it’s not much, but I don’t know what else you say.” You admit. 

“Thank you is enough, pretty girl.” 

You squeeze your arms tighter around his waist, you can’t look at him, not yet, not with your eyes filled with tears. You’re not even sure why you’re crying. Sure, you’re happy, over-the-moon, but there’s a sense of loss that sits inside you. It had been fun, what you’d been doing. Thrilling even, and you were always bound to get a little caught up in the way he made you feel when it was happening. Tommy has, and always will be, your number one. You’ve loved him since the moment you met him. But somewhere along the line, his rugged, older brother has stolen a piece of your heart all for himself and you don’t even mind all that much. 

“I don’t want you to think we’re done with you,” You sniffle, trying to hold back the tears, “Just beause you’ve given us this, doesn’t mean we go back to normal; we can’t go back to normal.” 

“I know babygirl,” He sighs, “I’m just happy I was able to make you happy, give you what you wanted,” There’s another kiss to your head now, “Take your time, you’re gonna be a family now, I don’t wanna get in the way of that, but I wanna help okay? You need anythin’, you call me, alright?” 

You pull away and finally look at him, his own eyes glassy just like yours. He feels it too. It was only ever meant to be sex, only ever meant to be a means to an end, but neither of you expected the end to come so soon. Whether you, Joel or Tommy like it, you’re bonded to this man with his arms around your shoulders, and it’s scary. He loves his brother too much to do anything about the sinking feeling in his stomach, but God he wishes he could have you, just once more, just to tattoo what you felt like right onto his brain, onto his very soul, so he could remember you forever. 

“Uncle Joel, right?” A lone tear rolls down your cheek, which Joel brushes away with the pad of his thumb, keeping one hand cupped around your cheek. 

“Uncle Joel,” He nods, with a smile on his face, “And you best believe I’ll be the best damn Uncle ever.” 

Your eyes are still glassed over with tears when you push yourself up on your tiptoes and kiss him. It’s soft and it only last a few seconds before you pull away. Before you can fully move yourself away though, Joel’s hands are cupping your face, leaning down to kiss you properly. His mouth opens at the same time as yours, and when his tongue is in your mouth, you can taste the whiskey on him. You can feel in this kiss everything you think he wants you to. The fact that he loves you, like he’s said before, as part of his family. The fact that he’s happy he could give you everything you wanted. The fact that he’s sad that he’s managed to do just that, and those moments he’d waited for, had craved all month long were gone now. That it’s okay, too, that he must step back, let you and Tommy figure out how to be parents together. That he’ll always be here, as long as he possibly can be, just in case you need him. 

When you finally pull away from each other, a kiss placed by you on his jaw, you don’t say anything else. You don’t need too. Neither of you do. You just squeeze his hand and leave, joining Tommy in the car. 

He hands you the keys and in no time at all you’re making the short drive to your own home. To your new life. The one Joel had given you, handed to you on a platter. You don’t think you’d ever be able to express to him how truly grateful you are to him. When you pull the car into the driveway and cut the engine, Tommy reaches over to take your hand, squeezing it. 

“Okay?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” You smile, “I’m okay.” 

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Date Night

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Black!Nurse Reader

Warnings: mdni, mentions of sex, jokes about age.

Main Masterlist

WC: 1.3k

✧༺♥༻∞

Being at the Avengers Compound on your day off used to be weird. Avengers are cool and all, and you’re very appreciative for the chance to be considered ‘part of the team’ even if you only worked in the Medbay. No one wants to hang around their place of work when they don’t need to be. Then you started seeing a certain blue-eyed brunette super soldier.

So here you are walking through the main hallways to the the gym and passing a good amount of agents and techs enjoying their breaks. Then you hear your name being called. You look up from your phone and see Aaliyah, a friend of yours that works in the special equipment department (aka Avengers Weapons Only). You walk up to the cafe where her and some other work mates like to frequent.

“Hey Liyah, I didn’t know you were working today.”

She brings you in for a side hug. “I know, I’m not supposed to be, but Mr. Wilson just had to call me on my day off about fixing redwing.” Her cool demeanor shudders as the Falcon’s name coasts out of her lips.

You smirk. “I think he would prefer if you just called him Sam or your boyfriend. Your pick.”

She covers her face and shakes her head. “How about we talk about why you’re here on your day off? The Medbay is about 6 floors up and on the other side of campus.”

“Hey, I’m completely fine with saying I’m here for my man.” 

The light cockiness in your voice paints a mischievous grin on her lips. “Oh speaking of your boyfriend, does Barnes know how to use a pc- no a toaster- nope a smartphone?”

“Oh fuck off, is that what yall actually think?” You scoff as a people 10ft away from you shake their heads. “No fucking way, you can’t be serious!”

“Girl half of these people have never even seen him in person and they work in the same building he lives in.” Kyla, another nurse, says from the end of the table.

You roll your eyes and look at Aaliyah. “For real?” She nods her head.

“You know he wasn’t frozen for 70 years straight right? He couldn’t be a spy if he didn’t know how to blend in.” 

“How does he work a phone with the metal arm though?” She asks as someone comes up behind her.

“He has a flip phone, gotta remember he’s an old man.” Sam chuckles as she jolts out of her skin.

“You asshole! I told you to wait downstairs.” He shrugs and throws an arm around her. 

“You said you’d be back by 2:30, now I’m a punctual man baby. I waited a whole 5 minutes before tracking you down.” She buries her face in his chest to hide how he flustered her with the pet name. So cute.

“You should be going too, the old man has not stopped talking about you since we got here. I swear I’m gonna ask for a new mission partner.” You smile then hug them goodbye.

The walk from the break center/ cafeteria to the weapons testing arena and gym is a 5 minute straight shot. It also where you’d more times than not find your boyfriend. In the miniscule chance that he isn’t, you could probably find him in a conference room, with Captain Rogers outside lapping civilians or his suite. The kitchen exactly because those soldiers can eat. 

But the second those sliding doors open to his personal gun range, you see him just like you knew you would. He sat on a stool at a table with his muscular back adorned in a form fitting black henley and black jeans that emphasized his ridiculously thick thighs. His neck length brown hair is tied up in an adorable blue silk scrunchie as he dissembles his favorite rifle to clean it. You lean against the door frame just admiring the man’s beauty for a while more. He most definitely knows your behind him thanks to his enhances senses and experience as a spy, but that would not stop you from-

“Enjoying the view pretty girl?” Exactly, he gets it.

You smile and walk up to him, “absolutely.” You hum hugging his back and tracing your short almond acrylics across his abdomen.

A strong warm hand covers yours as he chuckles, a deep almost gravely laugh that electrifies every cell in your body. “I’ll be done in a couple minutes, then we can go.” 

You watch from over his shoulder the way his hands work in tandem to polish each nook and cranny of the gun. His vibraninum fingers curling around the body of it cause a shiver down your spine as you think about the nights you spend withering in his bed thanks to them. You shake those thoughts away and lay your head on his shoulder.

He brings one of your hands up and places his soft lips to your knuckles. “Fuck you smell so good. I knew you were coming before you hit the door.” He groans extending the kiss to your wrist before placing your hand back on his stomach.

“It’s your favorite, and you haven’t even seen the whole outfit yet.” 

He lets out another one of those heavenly chuckles. “Aw baby, did you get all dressed up for me?” The gun clicks shut and you feel yourself spinning around to face him.

“You like?” He takes your hand and you beam as he spins your once more. 

Since you were just going to a drive in movie, you paired a simple black top with your his favorite pair of dark gray baggy jeans that hug your waist and accentuate your ass just the way he likes. You couldn’t go wrong with some gold jewelry that shines beautifully on your brown skin. The whole look complimented itself.

Your 4c hair on the other hand didn’t want to cooperate this morning, the week old braid out was at its wits end and desperately needs all the mousse and gel washed out of it. So you did what you had to, found a giant hair tie, slicked your edges back and finger coiled a few strands in the front to give the look back some of it’s life. 

He nods biting his lip and looking you up and down. “You look just how you smell: decadent, like one of those death by chocolate cakes you love. And like you want to spend the rest of this weekend in my bed naked.” He smirks.

You hook your arms around his neck, step into the spot between his strong legs. “Well Mr. Barnes, we can’t have that. You promised me dinner and movie and the look’s not complete yet.” 

He raises a brow and dips his face to yours. “Oh yea,” he says huskily. “What could possibly be missing? You already have the body glitter.” The takes an imaginary bite out of your glazed arm. You nod at the leather jacket hanging on the hook by the door and he grins instantly.

“Go walkin’ around in that and everyone will know you’re mine.” He growls, his crystal blues deepening in hue flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want.” You whisper against his lips tilting your head to connect them to yours.

His soft lips melted into yours perfectly, your hands pull on the hair tie locking away his silky locks and gently pull at them. He groans languidly licking into your mouth and swiftly lifting you into his lap, his hands holding firmly on your ass. Just like that it feels like the first time. Your heat beating heavily against your chest while you learn each other mouths. Tugging at his roots a bit more you nip his bottom lip and smile.

“You love playing with fire love.” 

You cheekily chuckle pulling back, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

He squeezes your cheeks then playfully smacks one inciting a gasp from you. “A dangerous, dangerous game that could cost you your night.”

“Aw but my favorite movie is playing.” Your fake pout morphs itself into a smirk. “Or maybe I wanted to makeout with my hot Brooklyn boyfriend in public without anyone knowing.” He bites his lip as you look at him with siren eyes.

“And people wonder why I can’t stop talking about you, my girl is a damn minx. Fuck it, lets go.” He sighs as you jump off his lap and grab his leather jacket.

While he’s securely putting away his rifle, you look over at him and smirk putting on the jacket. “Thanks daddy.”

His eyes go wide as you walk out the door giggling.

Gotta love date night.

♥*♡∞:｡.｡

AN: I was missing the character that brought me back to my passion, so this was really for me but yall can enjoy it too xox

as always likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated

[lovelettersforthedamned]

I just read this and 🥹🥹

https://www.tumblr.com/lovelettersforthedamned/736383346194694144/okay-this-request-might-be-a-little-specific-and

Could you do a part two?? Where Peter finally knows from her telling him because he’s still worried something is wrong between?

The Parkers

--genre: FLUFF, slight angst

--pairing: husband!tasm!peter parker x pregnant!wife!reader

--word count: 0.9k

--warnings: language, reader is pregnant, anxiety, one mention of nausea, FLUFF, peter loves his wife and her overthinking so much.

lowkey was waiting for someone to ask for a part two because i love this fic so much...

It was half past nine when you and Peter decided to head back home. The party was winding down, and after a cleaning up, May seemed like she was ready to hit the hay as well. With one last hug for everyone left in the living room, Peter leads you out the front door. 

As soon as the two of you stepped into the night, a shiver ran up both of your spines. A quick glance at each other signaled that it was absolutely freezing. Peter immediately pulls you into his side and starts to rub his hand along your arm at a fast pace, a simple attempt at trying to warm you up. You giggle at his action, looking up at him and his now rosy cheeks, admiring your husband. 

You must have not noticed how long you were silent, Peter broke it, “You sure you’re alright, bug?” Peter still thinks that there’s something wrong between the two of you. The thought was eating him alive as you’ve been silent the entire walk home. 

Your body tenses at his question, and with you still pulled into his side, he felt it too. May’s get-together was a good distraction from the very real situation you’ve found yourself in, and Peter's question brought back all the anxiety you felt earlier today. The hairs on his arms raised at the sudden nervousness radiating off of you. Even though your anxiety is urging him to speak, he allows you the time to respond. “Oh–um…Yeah, everything’s alright. I just need to talk to you about something,” your voice wavering, didn’t help either your or Peter’s feelings right now. 

Peter clears his throat, “Yeah, what’s going on?”

All of a sudden, you feel hot. Even a thin sheen of sweat appears on your brow, but the last thing you want is for Peter to let go of you. Your pace slows as you muster up the courage to tell him about everything, the test, the nausea, the conversation with Miriam, all of it. “Peter, I-I’m,” you take a sharp and deep breath, not daring to look anywhere but the pavement, “I’m pregnant.”

And still, with the words leaving the tightness of your throat, you still don’t feel any better. As you wait for any sort of response from Peter, you feel worse. 

You finally pry your eyes away from the gray cement and to the warm brown eyes of your husband. You two look at each other for a prolonged moment. You’re so nervous, but you can’t bear to pull yourself out of the trance of Peter’s eyes. 

You sigh, as you begin to speak, more like ramble, again, “Fuck, I know I should have told you as soon as I found out this morning, but I was, still am, nervous. And I also know I have no reason to be nervous, especially around you, but everything about this scares the shit out of me, but it also makes me so excited? I just have a lot of emotions right now, and I don’t know how to–.”

You're quickly enveloped in a bone-crushing hug, Peter rocking you two back and forth. He lets go of you as he brings both of his hands up to your face, “I’m gonna be a dad?” 

His entire reaction throws you off guard as you look at his features, “Uh…yeah, Pete. You’re gonna be a dad.”

A little giggle leaves his mouth before he leans his head down to kiss you softly, but passionately. The tenseness in your shoulders dissolves as you kiss him back. You two probably look crazy to others walking or driving down the street, but neither of you cared for them. 

With one last peck, Peter pulls away from your lips with a wide smile on his face. He brushes a stray hair that fell into your face behind your ear as his eyebrows furrow, “Why were you so nervous baby?”

“I don’t know,” you start, “I know that we’ve talked about kids before, but now, it’s real and I didn’t know how you were going to react.”

“Oh, bug. I will always stand by you and with you through whatever life throws at us. This is pretty big, but I fully believe that you’re capable of amazing things like being a mother, and with me, raising a family. I love you so so much (Y/N). Forever and ever.”

Peter always can bring a tear to your eye just off the way he loves you. You never knew how much you could love someone until you met Peter, and you were silly for ever thinking that his love for you would dull due to something like this. 

“You know, Miriam caught onto me earlier today?”

He leads you into a casual stroll as he recoils in disbelief, “No way. You just found out, how could she know?”

You shrug, “Said she could ‘see it in my face’.”

Peter laughs, grabbing ahold of your hand, and giving it a soft squeeze, “Maybe she’s magic…You know, May said that she once knew if her patient’s baby was a boy or a girl. And she was right.”

“Well,” you look at your husband, “we know who we need to go to when one of us wants to buy a lottery ticket!”

--author's note: EEEKKK!!! YAY A PART TWOOOO!!!!! peter loves reader so much omg its sickening. i need to write dad!peter more bc damn, i need him. be sure to like, comment, and reblog if you love what you see. my asks/inbox is open to send requests!!! ok, bye ily<3333

[xo-kyeong]

Laughter and mild snickering are all you hear from behind the door.

God, this is embarrassing

“COME ON Y/N!” Mina shouts from the living room of your shared dorm, all 5 of them waiting for you to test if your shared dorm had soundproof walls.

“WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE SEX NOISES?” You ask in humiliation. Fuck they’re gonna have a field day with this. “Y/n! My arms are getting tired from holding the phone! Get on with it already!” Denki whines.

“WHY DON’T YOU GUYS DO IT, WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE ME?” You cry out as you bang your head dramatically onto the door. Am I really doing this?

“Should I like- moan like how a normal person would moan?” You ask sheepishly. Sero and Bakugou are behind Denki trying their hardest to contain their laughter.

Kirishima, Denki, and Mina on the other hand are ruthless. Absolutely dying of laughter.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO!!” You cry out in protest, but they’re all insisting you do it.

“Y/n, how are we supposed to know if one of us can invite someone over?” Sero insists.

Then again, you’ve been dying to get yourself off for a while now because of your hectic schedule. Maybe knowing if your roomies can hear you pleasuring yourself is useful information after all.

“Okay okay- OH MY GOD I CAN’T” you laugh a bit out of embarrassment and they all laugh with you because this is pretty stupid.

“Sero will go in and test with you! That way you won’t be the only one feeling embarrassed!” Mina suggests, and that idea actually made the situation even worse.

There’s nothing more humiliating than to hear your friend’s moans and him hearing yours!

“WHAT? I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS-“ Sero protests, eyebrows raised and arms up as if he was adamant. But then after a few minutes of teasing from Mina and Denki, he finally caved in and joined you in the room.

“You really don’t have to do this you know?” You tell Sero, I mean, he’s probably uncomfortable-

“I don’t mind, besides, I’ve always liked your voice in bed” you’re full-blown red and flustered.

“We’re roommates Sero! You can’t be saying shit like that” you turn away, hiding your reddened face from his devilishly handsome (and irritating) face.

“Who says we can’t? Why don’t I start first, hmm?” He gives Denki the go signal and starts clapping.

“Sero- omg” you were hysterical, this is just downright stupid.

“Go on, just say ‘oh’ or whatever, better yet, say my name instead” he gives you a wink and you roll your eyes at him, fighting the urge to actually tackle this man and literally make this “fake” scenario into a reality.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this-“ you take a breath and started whimpering as Sero was clapping his hands at a steady pace.

“You’re so tight y/n- fuck” Sero shamelessly moaned, causing everyone outside the room to cackle.

“You’re brave” you whispered.

“But I should be the one making sounds here” you teased. And that riled him up, the way you went from utterly humiliated to bold and daring just did something to him. You effortlessly matched his energy just like that.

“Mhm, oh my god Sero- Oh keep going” you closed your eyes dramatically, trying to make this scenario as realistic as possible.

Sero quickened the pace of his clapping, groaning with you.

“Oh my god Sero, I’m gonna-“ you whimper and moan as you would if you were actually having sex. And Sero isn’t going to lie, he didn’t know if he should be worried because you moan so well that when he DOES have sex with you he might think you’re just faking it for his ego.

Both of you calmed down and stepped out of the room, looking at Mina for their final verdict.

“Well, it’s slightly soundproof- we all just have to make sure that none of you boys go too rough on whoever you bring home. Got it?” Mina says while holding the phone and placing it in front of you and Sero.

You and Sero re-watched the clip, hearing most of Sero’s clapping. Your own moans weren’t that noticeable, other than your “oh’s” and Sero’s groans.

“Well- y/n you sure do know how to act like you’re getting railed- have you ever faked an orgasm before?” Mina curiously asks, and you couldn’t say anything other than a whispered “kind of”

“GIRL- WE WON’T KNOW IF YOU’RE BEING WELL TAKEN CARE OF! WE WOULD BARELY KNOW THE DIFFERENCE” Mina screams, making you turn your head away from her booming voice.

All four boys were equally shocked at your revelation, you’ve faked an orgasm before? their eyes were wide, and jaws dropped.

You sheepishly brush them off though, as if it wasn’t that big of a deal. but to Sero, it clearly is. The others let you off, except for him of course. The rest of them finally went into their own rooms, bidding everyone goodnight, you were about to go to your own room after you refill your water bottle, that is until a pair of hands wrapped around your waist. You knew who it was going to be, his long and slender arms are easily distinguishable. “Sero?” you hum, “why aren’t you going to bed yet, huh?” you close the lid of your water bottle so that you could turn around and face him. “you’ve never faked with me... right?” he looks down at you with pleading eyes, he looks just like a begging puppy.  “oh, Sero. my poor baby, couldn’t get your mind off of that?” you chuckle at him when he holds you closer. “I’m serious y/n! do you actually feel good?” he whines, and that has you laughing lightly at how needy and desperate he sounds. “Sero, I’ve never faked an orgasm with you. in-fact, you’re the one and only guy who ever treated me right” you smile, wrapping your own arms around him to comfort him. Sighing when you savored his warmth and comfort. The fact that none of your other roommates know about your relationship is thrilling, yet sometimes it still manages to boil down to calm and quiet moments like this. “I love you, Sero” you look up at him, your eyes droopy due to the sudden sleepiness.  He reaches down to kiss you on the forehead, “I love you so much, Mi Amor” he rubs your cheek with his thumb before leaning in to kiss you on the lips. It’s nice to have a secret relationship, calm and quaint.  But you’d be surprised to hear that 3 other people are listening in on your conversation, fully containing their excitement at how sweet you and Sero are to each other.

[sw33tlight]

Infatuated.[Part. 1]

David McCall x F. Reader

WARNINGS.

Obsession, Mental Ab/se,S/x

“Can you like stop and get the fuck off me you creep.” Rolling her eyes (y/n) pushed her way through the crowd. How was she supposed to find her friend of years in this large ass crowd with gross sweaty people and gyrating everywhere. She decided to take a break and step outside while flipping off random creeps and pushing people out the way. When she finally managed to get outside she felt someone grab her hand she turned and there was her best friend Maya “Maya where the fuck were you.” “Are you fucking crazy, you can’t run off like that”. Giving her friend a nice big glare before noticing the two boys behind her. One with an ugly beard smoking a cigarette and another one younger looking built cute face, nice eyes, and a pretty smile. She hadn’t noticed how long she’d been staring at the kid till he said “What got somethin’ on my face or am I just sexy” she scoffed and rolled her eyes turning her attention back to Maya who was playing with the other dudes hair. “Maya who the fuck are these guys and can you stop that we were supposed to be home an a hour ago.” Maya turned to face the girl yelling at her about curfew like she ever followed hers. “Y/n since when did you care about curfew plus isn’t David here a cutie” She winked at (y/n) but before she could say anything the supposed David kid started talking “Yeah ain’t I cute honey?” He asked smiling. She couldn’t help but give a breathy laugh. She looked him up and down bit her lip and then dragged Maya away saying “Nice to meet you boys but we’d better be going”. She took Maya back to her motorcycle “Put the helmet on and hold onto me I will not be driving the speed limit” She said to Maya who reluctantly followed as she was told “thank you sweetheart”

As the two girls rode away and home, the guy David stood there watching until they were out of vision. ‘That Maya chick had a fat ass” said Logan “Yeah okay Loggie” David replied looking over the pier. “Igh’t time to head home.” The two men went into their respective cars and to the house. Maya stepped off the bike and onto the pavement. Teasing the rider as she returned the helmet. “ you know your parents are actually gonna murder you this time right?” the girl with (y/hc) sighed and flipped the girl off as she started the bike.

Returning home she walked the long drive way to make sure no one would hear she snuck through her window and changed it to PJs, wiping her makeup off, brushing out her hair and brushing her teeth. Hopping into bed she looked at the time on the clock next to her. 2:00 am. She seen the light turn on in the hallway and footsteps her dad’s. She turned so her face wasn’t visible and pretended to sleep as her door slowly creeped open and closed again. The light shutting off in the hallway. She stayed there a moment slowly falling asleep. She had classes to study for she had a huge test on Monday even if it was now at this point Saturday morning.

She rose in the late morning 10:00 am read her clock. She got up brushed her teeth, did her hair, washed her face properly, picked an outfit of the day and set it on the bed. She went down stairs to see if any breakfast was waiting for her or if anyone was up. Her step-mom was down there doing work. “Oh (y/n) there some pancake batter in the fridge if you give me a moment I can make you some or there some cereal” smiling she replied “pancakes sound nice, thank you” going back upstairs she took this chance to get ready for the day. She hopped in the shower washing her hair, shaving, styling her hair, blow drying it, changing, doing light makeup. After about and hour and a half she went backs downstairs the pancakes in the toaster oven waiting to be heated up. In admits her eating her pancakes the phone rings. She picks it up it’s Maya. The two girls are having a hushed but exciting conversation. “Hey do you think I could go over Mayas today and sleepover?” Her step-mom gave her a look but reluctantly agreed. Finishing her breakfast and going upstairs she packed a bag, said bye to her step-mom and brother and left for Mayas.

[spadesolace]

the experiment : college student! sana x fem! reader x miyeon

being a part of an experiment was not on your college bingo, let alone you didn't even give your consent for it. so, why not conduct your own?

part 1: lab rat/ test monkey

sana knows she fucked up.

seeing the bouquet with her name on the card with a very familiar handwriting. it made her feel sick, her face turned pale as she looked at the end of the hallway with your disappearing figure.

it had been a month since you ghosted sana and miyeon. your own best friend had to be a part of the whole experiment, completely aware of your heart being played just for it to be an experiment. ironic, how you were called lab rat one, as if you were already on her list of people she’ll play with.

blocking them on all socials had been the best decision you ever made. sure, sana and miyeon can’t message you or reach out to explain but what is there to say when you heard their entire conversation. biology majors taking the entire experiment on a different level.

everything you do has been a bit sloppy, sana was genuinely the first girl you really liked and it sucked that you’re left with the idea of being a lab rat. miyeon is the only one that has done her best to contact you, try to have a civil conversation but as someone who is avoidant, you keep running away.

“y/n, miyeon is outside waiting for you.” bangchan looked at you with concern as your eyes looked at the door. shit. shit. shit.

“tell her i’m busy.”

“too late, i let her in.” mingyu walked past you with miyeon behind him, you can’t run away. you’re in the middle of an experiment that needs your attention, almost done with it even but you won’t let miyeon know.

“can we talk?”

“what’s there to talk about miyeon.” from your peripheral vision, you could see the pain in her eyes, she even looked worse than you. bags under her eyes, lack of energy in her movement, slouched figure, fidgeting hands, and teary eyes. one wrong word from you could lead to her breaking down entirely, but she’s the one who knew of what sana was planning.

“why are you avoiding me?” maybe it was a bit harsh to avoid miyeon as well without her knowing. although miyeon was the one that introduced sana to you, and she knows about the experiment. 

“choi miyeon, i’m in the middle of something right now.”

“what? are you gonna avoid me again like the plague? like i’m a disease that could kill you?”

“i’m in the middle of an experiment. not the one you and sana fucking planned.”

that was all the confirmation miyeon needed that you know. everything makes sense to her now, their conversation, sana avoiding her as well and making her way to talk to you at any given chance. she fucked up, she broke your trust, and she’s left with nothing as your figure walked away continuing your experiment.

after that, miyeon still waited for you to finish your experiment. walking out of the lab with your backpack and lab coat on hand. it was a bit harsh of you to not talk to the girl without her knowing what had happened, assuming right away that sana probably told her. so, you let miyeon follow you into your new favorite spot, away from the pair but still nearby, you have to thank mingyu for the recommendation.

miyeon had not spoken until you arrived at the cafe, letting her sit down at your usual spot and ordering for you two. she’s still your best friend and maybe this could be a way for you to settle things first before you decide whether to end your friendship. first and foremost, she’s your friend before anything else, it was just sudden that your high school best friend would pull something like that.

“why are you doing this?” miyeon looked at you as you placed your orders, it was a staple that miyeon wasn’t much into coffee as she was with hot chocolate.

“you’re my friend, how you defend yourself would determine if you still deserve that title.”

it started from there, miyeon had explained how sana was confused on whether she was interested in both girls and guys or if it was simply just nothing. you weren’t supposed to be a part of it, when miyeon introduced you to sana it was merely to let her college friends meet her best friend. she was also left in the dark until miyeon discovered sana’s notes about the entire thing, keeping track of your dates and comparing it with mark, the guy she’s seeing the same time when she was with you. that was how miyeon knew of it,

“i planned on telling you, i was trying to stop this entire thing before it would go longer. then you stopped talking to me, blocked me on all socials and even my number.”

everything felt clearer now, if sana wanted to play with fire, two can play that game. you’ve thought of it for a while now, you just needed to think of the perfect person to do it with. who else could fill the role as your fake girlfriend other than your best friend who is desperately asking for your forgiveness.

“then help me.”

in a span of a week, you and miyeon had slowly convinced your friends that you were dating. explaining that ghosting her was a way for you to move on and make her find someone who is deserving of her love. miyeon was persistent, she could not just let you go easily. that led to her trying to get your schedule, meeting you at your lab class and getting coffee to talk things through. people can be easily deceived and it wasn’t that long until miyeon actually acted as if you were dating.

in public, you acted like a couple; but in private, it's just you two messing with people and restoring your friendship. and it did not take long for miyeon to let you know that sana had been asking her questions about your relationship, fully understanding why you wanted to fake date.

“who said i couldn’t conduct my own experiment.”  it wasn’t like you were avoiding sana like before, she had tried to talk to you but miyeon was always within the area to snatch you away.

that was until jackson had another party where miyeon had spent her time dancing with her friends, while you didn’t drink much as you had to drive miyeon back home. it slipped your mind that sana would be within the area, that she had kept her eyes on you as soon as you stepped foot holding miyeon’s hand.

within 5 minutes, sana had you wrapped around her finger. those 5 minutes, sana had managed to steal your heart once again, telling you that she had missed you, that you’re the only one for her. know you understand why she’s called sanake.

Minatozaki Sana. she has your heart, one that you wish you hadn’t fallen so easily for her charms. 5 minutes was all it took before you’re tempted to lean to her touch and forget that you’re playing a part in an experiment to see whether she missed you the same way you did. maybe it was nothing but lies. maybe she wanted to have fun just like before. you’re fucked.

“BABE!” then you’re reminded that miyeon is there to save the day. “oh, hi sana.”

the tension between the two was something you’ve never experienced before. fully aware they were friends before you had started seeing sana but after the series of events that leads to your current position. there’s a rift between the pair.

”babe, come dance with me, yeah?”

even in her drunken state, choi miyeon always stick to the script. pulling you to the dance floor, her dancing a bit too close to comfort but maybe it was a way to let sana know you’re not someone to be toyed with. no.

that wasn’t the case when you woke up in the morning, head pounding with the worst possible hangover you’ve experienced. it didn’t make sense to you, not a single ounce of liquor touched your lips when you were at the party, and you definitely remember bringing miyeon back to her place. your clothes scattered all over the floor except for your shirt, this was definitely miyeon’s place, you would notice the full body mirror with pictures taped to it. fuck.

the door opened revealing miyeon wearing what seems to be your shirt that was way too big for her. neck and chest basically covered in love bites. what the heck happened after i saw sana?

“hey, i cooked us some breakfast.”

“what happened last night?”

“uhm… you got drunk– when i asked you to drink here at my place.” miyeon pointed between the two of you. “then this happened.”

you only wanted to hurt sana, not bring miyeon into this mess. from the looks of it, you enjoyed it but you can’t remember much of it until miyeon tried to piece everything together.

the rest of the night after you had brought miyeon home was spent in the comforts of her apartment. a bottle of soju was shared along with a few glasses of gin and tonic that you ended up finishing as miyeon had reached her limit. miyeon started it. she kissed you first and although both in drunken state, it was clear that there was tension between the two of you, one that is now sitting in front of you wearing your shirt with love bites all over her body.

by the time you and miyeon had reached a conclusion as to the events of the night were, breakfast was already done, coffee at hand and still you were completely naked in her bed.

“do you think… we’ll work out?” uncertainty in your eyes as miyeon watched your every move, it felt as if she’s back at the chemistry laboratory while your mind is running through multiple scenarios.

“we– could try. but-”

“sana, i know. you might need to clarify some things with her.” 

you didn’t expect miyeon to take things lightly when you suggested that she give you sana’s number. having it blocked and deleted, you saw no value but now- with the idea of properly dating miyeon, the need to clear the air for the sake that your best friend (possible future girlfriend) would fix their relationship.

sitting at the same cafe that sana had taken you to for your first date, the lingering idea that this might be the last time you’ll see her in the same light. the smell of coffee, light chattering from the customers and your mind buzzing with questions, running away seemed like a nice option.

“i’m surprised you wanted to see me.” you didn’t notice sana standing in front of you. pulling the chair and settling down as your gaze never left her piercing eyes. something about her changed, the cheering smile no longer there, or how her aura that was once inviting now felt guarded, and that the way she looks between your hands inches away from each other.

“wanted to clear some stuff.”

“... i’m sorry– i know you heard my conversation with miyeon.” you could only scoff at her, she knew, you made sure that she knew about that day from leaving the bouquet rotting by the biology lab along with your broken heart and trust. the girl you love merely sitting inches away from you and all you could do is look at her with so much hatred and confusion.

everything feels tight.

“i’m not here to come back. let’s give this a proper ending.”

“what do you mean?”

sana reaches for your hand, for a second you let her hold it- remember her touch.

removing it gently, as the tears in her eyes threaten to fall. you hated seeing her cry.

“you were a wonderful experience, sana. but i’m not one of your lab rats.”

“i’m sorry. you– you made me feel things i never felt before when i was wi– please don’t leave me… please, y/n… please.”

the desire to stay and throw everything out was there but you’d rather not let her break your heart again with the possibility of it being an experiment for her.

you love her but not to the point of willing to be a lab rat for her.

[diejager]

Please I'm begging you to do the trapper/ Evan nsfw headcannons🙏

I’m gonna be honest, Evan’s a hard one simply with how little there is about his character in his lore, but this is what I got from him.

Trapper nsfw headcanons

Pairing: The Trapper | Evan MacMilan x fem!reader

Cw: hard dom, soft dom, aftercare, possessive behaviour, rough sex, cuddling, predator/prey, master/pet, pet names, praise kink, tel me if I missed any. Wc: 1k

Evan is a very like-father-like-son character, where the saying “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” becomes much too realistic. Before his crazed massacre, the sudden shift in his mind from a calm and controlling person to a bloodthirsty and power-hungry killer, he thrived on control, the dominant figure in a familiar —patriarchy. Despite every clue and fact hinting at him being a control freak, dominating and intense, he knows how to level himself out, watching, calculating, and seeing whether or not his roughness fits the moment. 

If the moment’s, he’d be the leading figure with an iron hand and unchanging will, bending and pushing you in ways that would usually test someone, test their dedication, but he knew the limits, to keep an eye out for your subtle cues of discomfort or apprehension. 

Evan could easily be the hard dom, making you bend to his will, hissing and degrading you down to his toy, something existing solely for his pleasure. He likes making you obey him willingly, to witness you submit to his words, mewling and moaning around him or gagging on his cock, shoved down your throat with little care for your pleasure. He might occasionally give you orders that he knows you wouldn’t be able to fulfil, to make you swallow him whole when you could hardly take half of him in your mouth; to make you cum around your fingers when he knew they were too small compared to his thick and rough ones; and forcing you to adhere to his games.

Along with his dominant countenance, Predator/prey is something he likes, the chase and the adrenaline of hunting you - without his bear traps, he can’t have you wounded and bleeding, crying because of him in fear of what he could do more to hurt you - so that he can fuck you once he gets his hands on you. He’s a killer, it’s almost instinctual, the need to hunt and ensnare his prey. Running made him feel high on adrenaline, trying to catch you and make you submit to him through rough gestures and a harsh hand.

That came hand in hand with another kink of his —Master/pet. After a long or short chase, he’d show you your place: under him. Rather than the usual version, he hated being called master, he preferred being called your owner, your hunter, and you, the little hare he caught, the beautiful and weak rabbit he found ensnared in his game. If he feels like being mean, you’d be nothing but a toy to him, grounding his hips down, rutting roughly against you. It riles him when you start crying, pretty tears rolling down your cheek when he’s being so mean to you, using you until you feel overstimulated, cunt wet and swollen, overflowing with cum. Your sweet, sweet wails and pleads for him to stop, to let you rest, anything that made your face flush, back arch and voice crack turned him on.

If not; if you wanted something soft, gentler from him, he’d be the guiding hand with praises and encouraging words. He was soft, gentle and caring even as a dominant figure, asking you if you wanted this, asking you to tell him what you wanted and if you wanted it, waiting for any stutter and hesitation in your voice to stop whatever he was doing to care for you, shushing your anxiety away with coos and grounding pets.

Evan likes holding you when he’s being soft, getting every moment he can to touch you and be as close as he can be with you. He’d fuck you slowly, moving his hips at a slow and gentle pace, chest touching your back while he pushed in, hands holding you flush against him with your fingers locked together. It was like a slow dance with your hips bucking back and him snapping forward, driving in with purposeful and calculated thrusts to drive you insane with pleasure. He’s very touchy during and after it, determined to keep a part of himself stuck to you, be it his hand, his chapped lips, or his scarred cheek, he liked being able to hold you close, cuddling you after a night of frivolous affairs.

Aftercare is also an integral part of him, whether or not he was hard or soft with you, you deserved aftercare on any occasion. Evan’s a caring and protecting lover, his broad figure acting as a deterrent for any other killer, keeping you from harm’s way and safe by his side, his vulnerable and dependent survivor, one to call his own. He’d lay you down, admiring your panting form, eyes closed and mouth swollen, your hands blindly searching for him when he left to get a towel. He’s careful when he wipes you down, cleaning off the sweat and cum on your body so that you wouldn’t wake up groggy and uncomfortable the next day. 

There’s more to him than a mindless and apathetic killer whose mind fractured and craved for blood to do more than just feed The Entity’s abyssal stomach, Evan MacMilan might be rich, he might’ve been the perfect son of a wealthy family built on blood, pride and greed, but to him, you are more than an object of his affection and obsession, you were his heart. In your smaller hands, beating and undying, was his heart, pulsing strongly with how much love he held for you. You could be the richest, the poorest, the sickest or the healthiest person in the world, but to him, nothing mattered more than being with you. 

Evan’s had a hard life, expectations, responsibility and maturing too young, he craved something simple much like the choice of his tools, simple and old bear traps, cheaper and more efficient than any gun he could've bought with his father’s fortune. He craves a simple life with simple means, away from the gruelling yet familiar way of his childhood, perhaps you were the start of it, stemming from the darkness of her realm.

[translatemunson]

thought of calling you, but you won’t pick up • ttfd

chapter four of the tortured firefighters department

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, banter (because i love it), reader is a math and science nerd, chris is here, mentions of food, hints of mental issues, proofread by my bye-lingual ass (let me know if i forgot anything)

You checked your phone again. Last night, Eddie texted that Carla would be joining you and Chris on your small field trip because he forgot he had booked her for the day. You never met the lady, but you were sure it was gonna be fine. With an extra adult ticket in your pocket, you waited.

Fifteen minutes and no sign of them. Maybe you should text Eddie and get Carla’s number? She was probably stuck in traffic, but that information would ease your worries — and you could help her avoid the even worse routes the apps were giving these days. At this pace, you’d wear off the soles of your white Nike Dunk and pull every single thread of your maroon sweater.

You were about to text Eddie when you saw the black Jeep Wrangler parking not a few spots down to your left. No fucking way, you thought as you marched into its direction.

“Let’s go, Chris, we’re gonna be late!” Buck helped the kid out of the car and picked up a small paper bag before closing the door.

“Hey, Chris! Are you excited?” You hugged him and kept your hands on his shoulder, finally looking at the one person you’ve been successfully avoiding. “Thanks for dropping him off, Buckley. Is Carla joining us later?”

“Actually, I’m on babysitting duty today.” He extended you the paper bag. “Peace offering?”

“What is this?”

“The reason why we were late.” He insisted you accept the bag. “C’mon, aren’t you curious?”

“He said you’d like it,” Chris added. 

You accepted the gift, peaking it before opening the bag and finding one of your favorite cupcakes from your favorite bakery. The one from the incident that set the whole “we could be friends” situation on fire.

“Can we call it a truce for today?” It was implied, but he was definitely saying this for Chris’ sake.

“Ok, just today. But this doesn’t make things magically disappear, Buckley.”

“Why do you call him Buckley?” Chris asked you, his head tilted in your direction. “I call him Buck!”

“She’s mad at me, little guy.” He took a step closer to you two, probably testing the waters. “Did you get the tickets?”

“Who do you think I am? But give me one second, I can’t enter the museum with food.”

“Take your time. Wanna see if we can get to the museum before Brains, Chris?” And off they went.

You were almost sure Eddie planned this out. Leaving you to babysit his son and his annoying friend, who everyone under the 118 roof knew you were avoiding. One hundred percent intentional, right? And of course he would be late because he drove all the way to Santa Monica to buy your favorite cupcake — someone gave him a tip.

You started to feel a bit sad for ignoring his calls and texts all week long. But you pushed it away while you ate the cupcake and watched the boys walking to the entrance. With your clean hand, you gave Buck the tickets and told them to go ahead and go all the way back after the main hall: it was smart to take advantage of the morning weather on the Nature Gardens outside and explore all the fossils and animals later on. 

You were just a few steps behind when you caught up with them in the outdoor gardens. As a newcomer to this whole Chris’ babysitter duty job, you left to Buck to finish the small walk around the main paths. It was a good opportunity to text Eddie and say that, even though you offered to take Chris to the Museum, you were only assigned to take care of one kid, not two. In his best single-father in the middle of a shift style, he texted you a ‘thumbs up’ back. Oh he was so hearing about it later.

The Natural History Museum in Los Angeles was definitely packed with exhibitions that could keep a child and adults entertained. You’d been there once, as soon as you moved to LA, almost a year ago now, and the featured exhibitions were different back then, but still a pretty good curating work after all.

However, the moment Chris saw the Dinosaur Hall and the Dino Lab, you knew it was over for any other exhibitions. And could you blame him? The dinos were pretty badass and Chris was a very curious kid, so he kept asking you all the questions you could’ve imagined — and a few more you weren’t prepared for. You acted like his own private tour guide, proud of spending some time researching and studying about dinosaurs the last few days.

You almost missed all the attention Buck was giving to you while you talked. To be honest, you couldn’t tell who was more focused on you: the kid or the annoying adult.

After all that talking, you for sure were starting to feel a little tired and overwhelmed. Even with short breaks for some water, you still felt like you needed a reset. You signaled to Buck that you’re going to the restroom for a second, he kept reading Chris the charts about butterflies and insects.

You washed your hands and used some of the water on your neck, trying to calm yourself down. How did you go from wanting Buckley’s head on a plate to babysitting with him? Life was fast and unpredictable by the Pacific shore. One lady entered the restroom and stopped by the sink to your right, trying to get rid of the chocolate and ketchup in her hands. You saw her a few minutes ago, when you stopped to grab some water.

“Can I just say you are an adorable couple? And your son is so sweet.” Her tone was sweet and definitely meant well. But she was so wrong about everything.

“Oh, he’s not our kid,” you rushed to explain the situation. “We’re just babysitting for a friend while he’s working.”

“Well, just like my grandparents told me once: sometimes you’ll have a taste of what your life could be with a special person at the moment you least expected.”

You smiled at her through the mirrors. “Did they give you any advice on how to know if it’s the right one?”

“No, but you look like someone who knows how to find that answer.” She threw the paper towels away. “Sorry for being so cryptic. Have fun!”

She left before you could even thank her for… well, the advice. Not that you asked for it, but it did show up in a nice time. Or maybe not. You weren’t sure. Did that truce mean you could let yourself feel everything you were repressing for the past few weeks? Not just regarding Evan Buckley and his lack of manners, but about everything in your life.

After all the dinosaurs and lectures about natural history, you decided to wrap up and move on to the next stop on your list. Buckley helped Chris get down the entry steps and you took the directions back to the parking lot close to the museum.

“Thanks for your services, Buckley. You can just,” you motioned your head to his car. “Ok, Chris. What do you wanna do now?” You opened your Uber app to get a ride to the next destination.

“Not necessary.” Buckley took the phone out of your hands and stored it into his jacket pocket. “I’m also the designated driver for the day.”

“What happened to you getting out of my hair?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I thought we were in this together.” He gave you the classic — and a little bit sassy — Buckley smile. He paid for the parking. “C’mon, Chris, we have places to go.”

The three of you walked to his car, but you were still not convinced. It was your idea to babysit Chris for the day, all your plans were picked towards your goal: having a nice and chill day with him. You didn’t need Evan Buckley and all his golden retriever energy to disturb your perfect equation.

While you were hating on him, he made sure Chris was comfortable and safe on the back seat. 

“Why are you ruining my plans?” You didn’t move from the driver’s door. Maybe, if you were warned beforehand you’d had to deal with him, you'd grow some patience. But not today, not this fast.

“I’m not. Still your plans with Chris. Tell me where to go next, I’ll drive us.”

“Give me my phone back.”

“Are you letting me be your driver today?” He leaned against the car.

“What choice do I have, Evan?” You rolled your eyes.

“Hey, I’ve told you I’m sorry.” You stepped aside, finally letting him grab the door handle. “Also, none of my friends call me Evan, by the way.”

“And since when am I your friend?”

“Since now. Hurry up, he’s gonna grow impatient and snap at us.”

“He would never do that.”

“Wanna test your theory, future doctor?”

“Not at all.”

He closed the door. You went around the vehicle, still pissed at him for taking your phone from you. You jumped into the car and checked Chris.

“Ok, are we hungry already or can we check out this cool place before that?”

“Pancakes!” Chris shouted from his seat. “Please?”

“Sure! Ok, let me just,” you instinctively reached out for your phone, but it was still being held hostage by Buck. “Phone, please.”

“Here,” he handed it to you, an aux cable attached to it. “Put the address in the GPS, and please play something kid friendly, ok?”

“Excuse me? What do you think I listen to while I’m driving to work?”

“With that sassy attitude of yours? I expect the worst.”

Just to prove him wrong, as soon as you entered the address on the GPS, you blasted one of your personal favorites. “I stay out too late, got nothing in my brain. That's what people say, mm-mm,” you sang.

“That's what people say, mm-mm,” and Chris, in the back seat, joined you.

You were definitely getting under Buck’s skin. The fact that you picked a song Chris knew the words too left him in disadvantage because you were sure he wanted the taste of saying “Told you so” as soon as he proved his point. But he should’ve known better than to provoke you.

“And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate. Baby, I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake. I shake it off!” You sang it right by Buck’s ear, dodging his hand because he was trying to get you out of his hair. Well, how does it feel now, Evan?

Your queue was really impressive: it looked like you were up-to-date with what the younger generation was listening to — not that you didn’t enjoy the same songs occasionally, but you never kept your options too narrow. There was just one scary moment where you thought you added an explicit song, but you deleted it in time. 

Buck was too busy following the GPS directions. You were stuck with him for the rest of the day, which was a nightmare by itself, and kinda stuck into the endless LA traffic. Chris didn’t notice the animosity between you because you both toned it down — for him, only for one day. Most of it sounded like some friendly banter.

Under the upbeat pop song you were playing, you could hear him singing another tune, barely familiar, but still unrecognizable.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, nothing.” He made a left turn, but kept on singing it. “If you could see it… been here all along… how could you not know baby.”

Without a warning, you typed the name of the song in your library and gave it priority in your queue. His fingers started tapping in the beat, and he started following the lyrics, saying the right words this time.

“If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along. So, why can't you see? You belong with me,” you two sang along together. But you really kept your poker face because you couldn’t give him any reasons to be even more annoying.

“Looks like we’ve arrived,” he announced, breaking the spell of one song.

Buck pointed to the restaurant you found a few months ago. It was located south of Santa Monica, a few blocks from the beach, but with the rooftop seats, you could definitely say you were eating by the beach. You parked not far from the entry, and you rushed upstairs to get one of those special tables, telling Buck to help Chris because you didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

On the very edge of the roof, your favorite table awaited you: closer to the corner, with a huge light blue umbrella over your head, the four seat table had the perfect view and vibes. You pulled a chair for your bag and greeted the waiter. She didn’t get why you were in a rush until she saw Chris on Buck’s back.

“Could you just pick a place with an elevator next time?”

“I thought you were the muscles, Buckley. Hey, Chris, let me help you.” You held him tight, removing him from Buck’s embrace and putting him on the floor. “I had to make sure we had the perfect table.”

Three stores of stairs, in a rush, were justified once you got to see the smile on Chris’ face. You could catch your breath later.

+++

Chris ate way too many pancakes. You’d have to do a lot of explaining to Eddie, but hey, if the kid was happy, how could that be a problem?

You had to cancel the last plan of the day — a trip to another museum — and settle down at an arcade close to the restaurant before ending your babysitting duty. Just buying you enough time to Eddie leave the firehouse and be home. So you were watching Buck and Chris playing some games while you tried to schedule some study breaks between classes and shifts.

“What’s wrong?” Buck sat down to your right. Chris was just in your sight, in case he needed more coins or any help.

“Nothing.” You turned off your phone screen, ignoring your packed schedule.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” He gave you a little smudge on the shoulder. “C’mon, Brains, talk to me.”

“I’m just a bit tired, it’s fine.”

“You know, you can go home now, I’ll take him to Eddie’s. You look like you need a good night of sleep.”

“To be honest, I can’t go back home now because I’d feel guilty. My brain is all mushy,” you pointed to your head, “and I wouldn’t be able to study or relax. I would rather stay here, where my mind is focused on something else.”

“I know what you mean,” he leaned his body back, his eyes staring something beyond what you could see. “I support you distracting yourself, but this won’t go away just because you’re ignoring it, you know? Are you sure you’re ok?”

Being ok was a concept you weren’t sure about the past few days. You wanted to be ok, to look ok to everyone around you, but it was hard. You were just faking until you made it. The PhD program was starting to wear you off, and even though you loved it, the thoughts of giving up were taking every single inch of your notes and books.

But what would be your excuse to leave it unfinished when numbers, probabilities and hours of understanding the impossible things were half of your life at this point?

“Did I hit my head or something? Do you have a fever? Why are you being nice to me?” You swiftly tried to change subjects.

“We’re on a truce, remember?”

“Maybe we could be on good terms again,” you suggested. “I mean, if you ever eat my cupcakes again, Bobby will need to hire a new firefighter.”

“So we’re good?”

“We’re good.” Your screen lit up with a notification. “Eddie is gonna be stuck with an emergency, but Carla is on her way to the house. Should we just go?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get him and then we drop him off.”

“Great.”

Chris black out as soon as Buck started the drive back to the Diaz house. The radio volume was low, and the orange and pink tones of the sunset were being replaced by the dark blue of the night. You found it hard to keep your eyes open for too long, and only noticed you took a nap when Chris was calling for your name, wanting to say goodbye before going inside.

“Thank you for today, Brains!” He hugged you, and it made everything worth it. “Can we do this again soon?”

“We’re gonna chase all the dinosaurs in LA, I promise.” You gave him one last huge and walked back to the car, watching Carla and Buck talking by the front door.

And there you were, back in the car with Evan Buckley. If he wanted to make a comment about how he was right, he let it slide. You connected your phone and entered the address to your house on the GPS. He took your phone from your hands, declaring “Now that everyone in this car is over 18, we can play the good stuff.”

“Are you sure you are old enough? Give me that back, Evan!”

“Hey! I’m driving. And you challenged me. I’m gonna show you what I usually blast in my car.”

You expected anything from Evan Buckley, even the worst genre of music, but nothing prepared you for when you listened to the introduction of ‘You Give Love A Bad Name’ blasting through the speakers.

The playlist had completely changed and moved away from what you played when Chris was in the car. Bruce Springsteen, The Beatles, even a little of Led Zeppelin, just to enjoy some classics you never thought Buck appreciated. But he was more than just a firefighter with a sassy attitude, some wrongs and lots of muscle.

You look around, panicking a little when you notice you’re entering your building’s garage. You were definitely expecting to be dropped off at the front of the building. What the hell was going on?

“What… How did you get the access?”

“So, funny story. Maddie told you about the place, right?” He turned his head to check your reaction. “Well, I was the one that mentioned that a unit was available when I was complaining about my ex neighbor… So yeah, we are neighbors.”

“You’re annoying, you know that, right?”

“I thought Maddie told you.”

Well, she almost did, but she was interrupted by your neighbor himself that night. Shit.

“For how long did you know this?” You pointed to the garage and between you two.

“For a few weeks, when I saw your car after the cupcake incident.”

“I pledge the fifth.” You disconnected your phone from his car. Well, it would only get awkward if you walked to your apartment in complete silence, so you asked, “Wait, so you were texting and calling me from across the hall? You’re unbelievable.”

“What? If I knock on your door, you’ve got a restraining order against me.”

You left the car at the same time, and walked to the elevators.

“I bet I could convince Sergeant Grant to arrest you.”

“You’d make her dreams come true.”

Same elevator, same floor. You took opposite directions: his place was to the left, yours to the right, on the corners of the building, just one unit between you. You waved him goodbye and entered your home. To your right, your kitchen and dinner table. The glass doors to your balcony were opened — your mistake when you left in a hurry that morning — and it felt more like home than you expected.

Under the stairs, your notes and books were scattered. Sundays were for studying and writing the thesis. Your gray couch held the books you were searching the other day, too busy to put them back in the high and long bookshelves you had on the wall. Your television was the least used electronic in the place.

You walked upstairs and threw yourself in the bed. Maybe you should’ve picked up his calls before, but now it wasn’t a problem anymore.

author's note: are we watching the beginning of their friendship? I THINK SO! yes, i love a slow burn, but i swear it's gonna be worth it, ok? hope you're enjoying this series as much as i am. also: i published a blurb, so check the series masterlist bc i kinda loved it, not gonna lie. ALSO, my lovely friend, casey, made a playlist for the series. just check the masterlist! see yall next week!

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

sooo I noticed that you write for dark themes and I came up with this request

Yandere reader who doesn't have any ideas on how to attract Scott so they decide to be bratty x mentor Scott who I think would be a perfect brat tamer

𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓-𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑…

!!! 18+ THEMES, GN reader, mentor Scott, where do I even fucking begin with this, inappropriate relationship, power imbalance, hints of an age gap, brattiness, stern Scott, jealousy, poor Jubilee, mentions of impact-play, slapping, belts, sir-kink, collaring mentioned, Scott’s a meanie, penetration mention, brief mentions of asphyxiation, reader’s a fucking FREEEAAAK, I could literally reread this blurb 10 times and still not catch everything, just generally read at your own risk.

Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sor—

… Oh, LAWRD.

Lemme just say, before we begin, you are absolutely right about everything for the history of ever. Scott is 100% brat tamer material and I don’t think this is talked about much (WHICH IS FUCKING CRIMINAL, RAAAAA—). This man will put you in your place if you start acting up, and brother, the up is acting for me right about now, lemme tell ya. I am about to fucking kill someone. This ask is perfect.

Ahem. Anyways.

This type of dynamic starts off as something rather tame. You’re just the rookie wondering why you should do this or that; you have no ulterior motives whatsoever!! It has nothing to do with the unreadable expression Scott gives you whenever you question him, or the low tone he uses as he warns you to listen. Nope! Nuh-uh! But on a completely unrelated note, isn’t it so hot how he points an authoritative finger at you, letting an unspoken threat linger in the air as you have no choice but to obediently follow his orders? God, you’d maim and mutilate for that finger to— *prolonged censor beep*

Hmm? Is the edge in his voice wearing down over time? Is he getting too used to your simple inquiries? Wait, no!! No, no, no, no, no!! C’mon, Mr. Leader man, now’s not the time to lose that sternness!! Why doesn’t he wanna give you his full, undivided attention?!

… Well, maybe it’s time to test the waters a bit, hm?

Of course he can’t let you off the hook when you blatantly ignore an order. God, the way he snapped at you was something else, causing an explosion of butterflies in your abdomen and your knees to feel weak. There it is!! There’s that commanding presence that’s focused on you and you only!! Now he’s pulling you aside after training to give you a lecture… can this day get any better?? That’s right, Mr. Leader Man… tell this poor rookie all about working as a team and following directions… they’re definitely listening and totally not distracted by that low, serious, no-nonsense voice…

Your rebellious streak is now in full swing as you deliberately ignore him. Spar with Wolverine? Nah, he’s too rough. Clean the dining room? But you’ve got better things to do!! Your turn for monitor duty? You’re pretty sure it’s actually Gambit’s (this one’s genuine; let the bastard do his own damn chores). When Cyclops finds out you’ve practically dismissed all of your duties, he looks about ready to explode. Why can’t you just listen to him, huh?! Stop acting like a brat and get it together!! If you don’t start pulling your weight, he’ll—!!

…????

He’ll what??

What is Mr. Leader Man gonna do to you??

He doesn’t finish his sentence (much to your disappointment). Instead, he presses his lips into a thin line, putting one hand on his hips and the other in his hair. There’s a few seconds where he seems to recompose himself. A sigh then falls from his mouth, and with one last curt word of chastisement, he brushes past you to do something else.

Your thoughts are racing as you watch him leave.

(Come back, Mr. Leader Man! Please come back!! Tell me what you’re gonna do!! Please, please, please, please, please, please, please!!)

Naturally, you start pushing your luck even further. What happens if you start rolling your eyes at him, hm? Mumbling something under your breath just loud enough for him to hear? Full-on sassing him, giving him enough lip to put Wolverine to shame?

Oh, yeah. You’re really pushing him towards his breaking point.

There isn’t a day that goes by without a back and forth skirmish between you two. He tells you to do something, you talk back, he borderline threatens you, and you revel in the fact that he’s giving you all his attention. All of the other X-Men blend into to background completely; it’s just you and him, just as it should be!! No one is allowed to get in the way… you’ll do anything to make sure of it.

And that’s exactly what you did.

Because why does Jubilee get a gentle head pat and you don’t?! He doesn’t even lay a hand on you, even when you try your best to really piss him off!! It’s not fair… not fair, not fair, not fair!! All she did was mediocre perform some dumb maneuver correctly. Why is that rewarded with his attention?!

Oh, what’s this? Jubilee wants to try it out in an actual one-on-one spar?

You’ll volunteer for that!!

… It’s a good thing Wolverine taught you a few illegal moves a while back, huh.

The sparring session is immediately called off the moment Jubilee lets out a cry of pain. Uh-oh!! What happened?? Why is she clutching her wrist?? Did you accidentally sprain it while twisting her arm behind her back?? Whoopsies! Who could’ve seen that coming?

The answer is Scott; a very livid Scott.

You don’t even get the chance to put on your best innocent act. There’s a firm hand on your bicep before you can even process it, and he’s dragging you out of the Danger Room towards a secluded area where he can let you have it. What the hell were you thinking?! You are not allowed to pull stunts like that during training. You should know better than this… hey, are you even listening to him?!

“Look at me,” he orders.

You merely cross your arms, continuing to stare to the side with disinterest. With a sound of frustration, he grabs at your face and forces you to look at him. The movement was rough enough to catch you by surprise, and if you had any less self-control, you probably would’ve started drooling then and there.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

The low rumble of his voice makes you realize you’re standing at a crossroads. Either you start acting right now, or you could plunge further into this uncharted territory. There’s always the risk of him kicking off the team, which means you can no longer take up all of his focus, and that’s the last thing you want!! But the grip he has on your jaw is like a drug to you, making you want more and more and more and more and moremoremoremoremoremore—

Your eyes defiantly drift to the side, still trying to maintain a disinterested look.

There’s a long stretch of silence between you two. Though you didn’t dare flick your eyes back to him, you knew there was that tight frown on his face. God, you loved it whenever he studied you. You might not be able to see his eyes, but you can always feel his calculative gaze from miles away, like he’s trying to figure out every cog inside of your mind.

Finally, with his hand tightening around your face, he lowly muttered, “you’re doing this on purpose.”

This gets you to actually spare a glance at him, your eyes shining with faux innocence as you let out a questioning hum.

“Stop it,” he growls.

You tried so desperately to keep your mouth from curling into a crazed smile. “Make me.”

Famous last words, right?

Scott isn’t stupid; he’s well aware that you’re basically asking for it, and even more aware of how… inappropriate this is. There’s an obvious power imbalance between the two of you — an obvious gap, even — which only adds a new layer of dubiousness to whatever the fuck your dynamic is. But the way you’ve been acting recently has him hitting a wall. If you don’t wanna behave the easy way, does he really have much of a choice?

(For the sake of his conscience, he’s ignoring that dark side of him that’s slightly satisfied with this outcome.)

He’s not giving you the courtesy of maintaining your dignity after your fate is sealed. You’re immediately thrown over his shoulder, the sheer force of how he manhandles you being enough to knock the wind out of your lungs. Consider yourself lucky that the halls were empty as he marched towards his room (not that you probably care that much. Is it really a bad thing to let the whole world know that Mr. Leader Man is finally indulging in you?).

Upon kicking open his door and practically throwing you on the bed, he makes his intentions crystal clear; he’s putting an end to this bratty behavior. From here on out, you’re gonna follow each and every one of his orders, and don’t even think about trying anything. Oh, you got something smart you wanna retort with? You’re not even given the chance to finish it. A sharp sting from the back of his hand connecting with your cheek is enough to shut you up, reminding you of what you’ve exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Yes, sir,” “no, sir,” “please, sir,” and “thank you, sir.” Those are the only for things you’re allowed to say. It’s his first order of business to drill that into your skull, and failure to call him sir is punished with a slap to the face, followed by him forcing you to look at him while coldly prompting you to correct yourself.

Hm? Already getting worked up over a few slaps? “You’re disgusting,” he’ll say. “You really don’t have any shame, do you?”

You have no choice but to answer honestly.

Touching him without his permission is completely out of the question. He catches your wrist before you manage to make contact, tutting at you with disappointment as he ignores your desperate pleas. Did he say you could touch him? God, you’re such an entitled brat. He should’ve known it would have to come to this…

… A perfect segway to his belt!

He really only uses it to restrain your arms. The thought of hitting you with it is a little too mean, even for him, but should he feel like he has no other choice, you may find yourself getting familiar with the sting of leather against your skin. And, yes, he makes you count every hit. But his go-to form of impact is usually his hand. He’ll slap you around a bit, maybe even the occasional spanking if you’re really bad (again, he makes you keep count). Resorting to the belt for that is his nuclear option.

If you’re a fucking freak like me, then you’ll absolutely love his belt. The way it tightly binds your wrists together is like heaven, and you love to run your tongue over the little marks it leaves behind (IT’S MY YANDERE READER BLURB, I GET TO DECIDE OUR KINKS). Wanna be a full-on freak? Steal his belt and wear it around your neck as a casual accessory! That won’t get weird looks at all!

… Who knows, maybe it’ll prompt him to get you a collar.

AAAAAAAANYWAYS, Scott is so cruel. He’s been letting you get away with your act for too long, so he’s really hellbent on reminding you who’s boss. But he also likes to reward good behavior. Expect the occasional soft praise and caress when you’re being especially obedient. He knows you fold like a house of cards at any sort of attention from him; he likes to use that to his advantage to further condition you.

Now, you may be wondering just how far he goes with these… sessions. When you’ve got a little freak like you who’s obsessed with a natural hard dom, the sexual tension is going to be suffocating. No matter how hard he tries to keep this solely on correcting your brattiness, he can only stay strong for so long…

He likes to think of it as one of his rewards for you. Nothing more. And if he just so happens to enjoy it a little bit too much, that’s nobody’s business.

His favorite way to take you is in his lap, facing each other as his hands on your hips guide you up and down. He’ll let you set the pace at first, cuz it’s your reward, but don’t expect him to let you be a tease. He’s shutting that shit down real quick. You’re expected to behave from now on, remember? Don’t make him turn this into another punishment… he’s got the patience to edge you for a long time.

This is when he’ll indulge in any sort of weird yandere quirks you have. Want him to call you his? Sure thing. Bite you? Not really his thing, but alright. Grab you by the next? He does this one with a little too much enthusiasm (HE’S INTO IT BECAUSE I SAID SO).

Aftercare is filled with soft cuddles, mainly initiated by you cuz there’s no way in hell you’re letting him go. They’d have to shoot you dead 80 times and pry your cold hands off him with a damn crowbar. It takes him a bit to convince you to at least wipe both of you down, but you eventually relent at the promise of even more cuddles later.

So. Post brat-taming session, does this mean your rebellious streak is officially done? Well… that’s for you to decide. If you’re mainly just out for Scott’s affection, he’s more than willing to shower you in it. Cuz, y’know, he’s a good mentor who likes to positively reinforce the rookie. No subtext behind this whatsoever. However, if you’re a little masochist, you may find yourself acting out every now and then so he can immediately put you back in your place. He doesn’t mind reminding you at all.

The other X-Men are completely taken aback at your change in attitude. You’re no longer doing everything in your power to oppose Scott, and instead follow all of his orders to a T. Huh. How strange. Whatever stern lecture he gave you must’ve really did the trick, cuz now you’re dutifully standing at his side and even calling him sir.

… Say, what are those strange bruises around your neck?

Oh my god, you make it so hard to push the narrative that everything is completely normal between you two. Can’t you just act normal for five minutes?! Stop trying to lick is fingers in a public area, damnit!!