#the like three days of being convinced i need to run away and start a new life in the marshes is also super rad

[rin-may-1103]

The Wrong Robin Au (part three)

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Danny never said he knew what he was doing, but he thinks he's doing something right if the kid hasn't started crying yet. so you know, that's great. now, he just needed to get the kid out of here, so Danny could have a moment to mourn his retirement plans.

He wasn't going to blame the kid, ancients know Danny would have gone back to hero work eventually. He just couldn't let things go if he could help it, and he could in this situation.

"Alright, here's the plan." Danny announced, slapping his legs as he stood up. "it's late, you're a kid who needs sleep. let's get you home, then we can get a game plan on how to do this."

Tim had been nodding his head, even if it was reluctantly, before freezing in sudden realization. Danny raised his eyebrow in question, wondering what was wrong now.

"you want my help?" Tim asked, absolutely gobsmacked.

Oh, the kid thought Danny was just going to send him away like any reasonable adult would. Ha, Danny wished. but no. He had no clue what he was doing and this kid was his only trump card for making any of the half-assed plans still forming in his head work. AND he had a feeling if he didn't keep Tim close by, the kid would run off and do something stupid.

"Yep," Danny snorted, "you were smart enough to figure out who Batman was, and then you decided to take it upon yourself to help him; whether by convincing me to do it or yourself."

"Now then," Danny said as he walked over to the couch and pulled his hoodie from under Sam. Sam, to her credit, told him to fuck off and went back to snoring. Tucker, somehow having heard her, responded with a 'Go fuck yourself'.

Shaking his head, Danny turned back to Tim. "Let's get going. It's-" Danny turned to look at the clock, his eyes narrowing when he found it; 4 am. The kid was up and coherent enough to try and blackmail someone into being Robin at four in the morning. "-four. you seriously need to get some sleep kid. It's a school night." actually, what day was it???

Tim rolled his eyes but started to follow Danny out the door. "It's Saturday, and I've stayed up longer," he grumbled.

Danny snorted, "So have I, but we still need to sleep." He should probably try and prevent the kid from staying up longer than he should. Danny knows what years of not sleeping properly does to someone. The kid's obsessed with Batman and Robin, right? He'll just use them then.

"Robin needs all the sleep he can get. Otherwise, Batman will bench him. If Robin is benched, then who is out there helping Batman?" That's convincing, right? Does Batman even have the power to bench Robin? From the sounds of it, Robin is his kid's vigilante name. Which means he totally has the power to ground them.

Wait...

If Danny was going to be Robin, does that mean Batman would think he's his kid?

Oh, hell naw. He was not going to be adopted by another fruitloop! If Bruce Wayne even thinks about it, Danny will be out of there so fast even the Flash couldn't stop him.

Tim stumbled, his eyes wide in surprise. "Really?" he asks, turning to look at Danny in horror. Danny blinked, brain failing to remember why the kid would be surprised.

shit, what were they talking about?? Robin... It's four am... Right!

"Yep," Danny chirped, leading the kid to his car. "Now, I know everyone says not to get into a stranger's car and all that jazz, but it's the only way I'm getting you home. So, hop in."

Tim didn't even hesitate to jump into the passenger seat, pulling the seat belt across his chest. Danny stared at him for a second, before opening the car door and sitting down.

"kid, you do know you're not supposed to get into strangers' cars, right?" Danny asked, closing the door and buckling up. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his keys and started the engine.

"Well, yeah?" Tim replied, turning to face him, "But you're not a stranger. You're Robin. You protect people not hurt them."

and well? Danny can't argue with that, now, can he?

"Right, fine. Just promise not to get into strangers' cars. I don't care how much you think you know about them. It's not safe, and you could get hurt."

Tim hummed, thinking about it for a moment before nodding his head. "Yeah, alright. I promise."

"good." Danny sighed, turning to look at the road to see if it was clear. then he sighed again, "Don't tell strangers where you live, please."

Tim looked at him in amusement, a small smile spreading across his face. "Drake manor. 1015 Mountain Drive. It's in the Crest Hill community."

"You're killing me here, kid." Danny groaned, hitting his head against the steering wheel. Then he slowly lifted his head and turned to stare at Tim, "Kid. How the hell did you get all the way over here? Mountain Drive is all the way over in Bristol??? That's, like, twelve miles outside of city limits?"

"I have my ways."

Danny narrowed his eyes, "You bribed someone, didn't you."

Tim looked away from him, fiddling with his fingers.

sighing, Danny sat up and started driving down the road. They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the chaos that was Gotham City as they drove. Tim eventually slumped over, his head resting against the window.

It took a good thirty minutes before Danny could turn onto the bridge out of town. The traffic wasn't heavy, just the occasional car here and there. It was almost peaceful.

"Turn here," Tim suddenly instructed, startling Danny.

"Tim!" Danny cried, turning to look at the kid, then back at the road. although, he did do as the kid instructed. "don't do that! you'll give me a heart attack or something! Ancients!"

Tim blinked, then shrugged. "ok," he yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"my house is the one with really stupid-looking ducks carved into the gates." Tim supplied, waving his hand at the road ahead of them. "Bruce's is the one with bats, but you knew that."

"Right," Danny agreed. What were the chances that Batman happened to live in a place called Gotham and in a house with black iron gates covered in bats? It was almost as coincidental as Danny's last name sounding like Phantom. Fate really had quite the sense of humor, didn't they?

after they passed a few more dirt roads, Tim pointed at a specific one, "Turn here. The gates a little further back than everyone else's."

Danny hummed, turning the car onto the road. What was his life at this point? Driving children to their huge houses at four-thirty in the morning? agreeing to become Robin? coming out of retirement because a kid asked him to?

Bruce Wayne better appreciate all the effort this kid was going through...

A tall gate slowly popped into view, making Danny slow the car down until he could stop right in front of it. "Alright, kid. You're home. get some sleep. Go to school, I don't know, what do you rich kids do on the weekends? actually, you know what? It doesn't matter, do you have a phone?"

Tim blinked as he slowly unbuckled, "yes?"

"One that's not monitored by your parents or anyone else?"

"..."

Danny sighed, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his phone. "Here," Danny unlocked it, went to settings and pressed the factory rest option. Once the phone finished the reset, he quickly scanned through it to make sure it was all gone before adding his second phone number. once done, he tossed it over to the kid. "here, should work for now. Don't let anyone else have it."

If this was any other situation, Danny would have gone straight to the kid's parents; but considering it was past four in the morning and there wasn't a city-wide amber alert? He has a feeling the kid needs a safety net, and well? What better than a direct line to him?

"I can't just take your phone!" Tim cried, catching the phone before it could fall to the ground.

"It's my backup one. I tend to break my phone pretty often, so I always keep an extra one on me. my current number is saved on it, you can reach out and get in contact with me now." Danny waved off the kid's concern, reaching into the back of the car to grab a bag.

with how often his phone had broken during ghost fights and how frequently his parents dissected his phone for parts? It's a habit at this point to have a backup. or Ten. Pulling the bag to the front, Danny showed the kid what was inside.

"..." Tim blinked, then looked up at Danny. "why do you have a bag of broken phones in your car?"

"Because my phones keep breaking and I figured it would be easier to just keep them for extra parts than toss them. Now," Danny tossed the bag into the back, ignoring how it tipped over and spilled the contents all over the seat. He'd clean it up later. Maybe. "It's early. You need sleep, I need sleep. We can pick another day to sit down and build a game plan."

Tim sat in silence for a moment, staring at the phone in his hands, before glancing up at Danny. "You really mean it?" he asked, turning the phone around anxiously, "you really want my help?"

"kid, Tim," Danny started, tilting his head so he could make eye contact. "with how bad you say Batman's gotten? I'm going to need all the help I can get. Who better than the one who went out of his way to try and actually do something about it?"

Tim's eyes watered as he looked back at the phone. "ok," he whispered, nodding his head. Reaching up, he wiped his face clean before taking a deep breath and letting it out.

"ok," he repeated, voice stronger now. "I'll help. I want to."

"Good," Danny nodded in agreement, then smiled. "get some sleep kid, you need it."

"I don't need it," Tim grumbled, turning to open the door and get out. "but if that's what it takes for you to allow me to help, then I guess I can take a nap or something."

Danny snorted, watching as Tim closed the car door and started making his way to the gate.

as soon as the kid was out of view, Danny slammed his head onto the steering wheel and groaned. He had definitely jinxed himself earlier. How hard can being Robin be? Yeah right. He hasn't even gotten to meet Bruce yet and he's already stressed.

...

Glancing up, Danny watched as the clock glitched then turned to five am.

...

Well then, he might as well do something productive since it was unlikely he'd be getting any more sleep if he went back. Sam would be up by the time he got there, which meant he'd have to answer all of her questions... which would wake Tucker up, which would mean Danny'd have to explain all over again.

Glancing around, Danny suddenly realized something.

Batman.

Bruce Wayne was Batman.

Bruce Wayne; as in, Gotham's own himbo billionaire.

Who lives in Bristol.

Which is where he is right now. Logically speaking, he'd be able to find it pretty fast if he just looked at the gates. It's probably just a few houses from Tim's too, now that he thought about it...

Oh, this was a terrible idea, but when had that ever stopped Danny?

Jazz was so going to kill him for this.

Next

[steampoweredskeleton]

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[unabashegirl]

Camping — oneshot

Harry and Y/N were friends in college until that day. Now they are being forced to face one another...

Author's note: this one shot was posted on Patreon a long time ago. Happy that you all have a chance to read it!

check out my patreon and get access to this week new one shot (y/n's bff dad) and much more :)

warning: smut

word count: 4.8K

masterlist

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"I can’t believe you’re making me do this," she said as April tossed her backpack into the back of her car. "This feels like kidnapping."

"Stop being so dramatic and get in the car," April replied, a big smile on her face. You and April had been best friends since college, bonding over the ridiculous workload assigned to your class each week. You were opposites: you loved city life, running water, and comfort, while April thrived on nature, adventure, and challenges. She adored plants and meticulously cared for the ones she had at home. In contrast, April had once gifted you a cactus, which you managed to kill.

"I got us muffins and coffee from that place you love," April said.

"Is this your way of bribing me into going?" you asked, reaching for the bag of treats. "I know this is Mark’s idea." April just shrugged as she started driving.

"Aren’t you tired of the city? This will be good for you! All you do is work, sleep, watch The Office, work out, and repeat," April said, giggling as you stopped chewing.

"Leave The Office out of this," you warned. It had been your favorite show since high school, your comfort show, always playing in your apartment. You even tried to get others hooked on it. "I’ve seen you laugh."

"Listen, there’s something I need to tell you," April said, turning down the music.

"Did Mark propose?" you asked immediately, knowing they were endgame. The three of you had met in college and stayed close ever since.

"No," April replied.

"You’re pregnant then?!"

"Shut up!" April interrupted. "Harry is coming. Mark invited him, and I had no say in it," she blurted out, like ripping off a band-aid.

"Oh! Let me out. I am not going," you said, instantly annoyed at the mention of his name. "I thought Mark and he weren’t friends anymore."

"He just came back from America. He called Mark a few weeks ago, and they had drinks and dinner together. Apparently, he’s changed and is more mature." You rolled your eyes as you finished eating your muffin. Your appetite was gone, and you felt suddenly nervous. "You have to let go of that grudge against him!"

"It’s not a grudge, April. The man ghosted me after we had sex. That was all he was after. Him leaving was the best thing that could have happened to all of us," you said. You had fallen for his charm, and after much convincing, you finally gave in during your senior year.

"You’ve moved on, and so has he. I’m just asking you to be polite, babe," April insisted. "I just want us to have a good time."

You sighed, leaning back in your seat as the cityscape blurred past. "Fine. But if he starts anything, I'm not holding back."

April laughed, patting your leg. "That's the spirit. Just remember, we're here to relax and have fun."

The rest of the drive was filled with casual chatter and music, the tension slowly easing. As you neared your destination, a clearing in the woods where you would set up camp, you couldn't help but appreciate the serene beauty of the place. The stress of city life began to melt away, replaced by a reluctant sense of peace.

April parked the car and you both got out, stretching your legs and taking in the fresh air. "It’s gorgeous out here," you admitted begrudgingly.

"See? Told you it would be worth it," April said, grinning.

Mark emerged from behind the car, waving. "Hey, you two! Glad you made it. I'm surprised you managed to convince Y/N,” he said, wrapping his arms around April.

“It took a lot,” April giggled as Mark kissed her cheek. “Muffins and coffee.”

“I can still go back,” you said, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. “How long is this hike going to take?” you asked, walking up to Mark and giving him a friendly side hug.

“About thirty minutes. Is that fine or are you going to melt?” he teased, grinning.

April slapped his chest playfully before opening the trunk to get the rest of the stuff out. “Where’s your friend, anyway? Or is he still the unpunctual asshole he always was?”

“M’ right here” Harry said as he emerged from the trail that they were going to take to the campsite. You abstained from saying anything surprised at his appearance. He had kept his good looks. He had even gotten more attractive with more age. However, you would never admit it aloud.

April turned to look at you with her eyes widen opened. You gave her the same look, letting her know that you agreed. Harry wore tiny black shorts that left little to imagination. His legs seemed to never end and his thighs were inked. His grey shirt was tight enough sculpt his chest and his pectorals. His curls were tucked under his basketball cap and his eyes hidden away by some aviator sunglasses.

“You were saying, Y/N? I didn’t catch the last part” Harry asked you, with a small smirk. “Are you still a yapping bitch?”

“Just that we should start the hike” You responded, looking straight at him. You weren’t the same quiet and shy girl you were in college. You had matured and life experiences had shaped you. You were more outgoing and vocal about your opinions.

“I thought so” you heard him say as you turned your back towards him.

As you all gathered the camping gear, the anticipation of the weekend settled in. The woods were peaceful, with the sun filtering through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Birds chirped in the distance, and the fresh scent of pine filled the air.

Mark led the way, carrying the heavier equipment with Harry, while April and you followed. Despite your reservations, the beauty of the surroundings began to work its magic, and you found yourself relaxing a bit.

After a short walk, you reached the designated camping spot, a small clearing by a bubbling brook. It was picturesque, almost like a scene from a nature magazine. You couldn’t help but admit, if only to yourself, that it was a nice change from the city’s hustle and bustle.

"That was more than thirty minutes," you complained, dropping to the ground to rest your legs. "You're lucky the view was pretty." Mark and April laughed, while Harry remained silent, just watching you.

"Let's set up camp," Mark said, and he and April began unloading the gear. You took the opportunity to pull out the speaker and connect your phone.

As you selected a playlist, music filled the air, blending with the natural sounds of the forest. You watched as Mark and April worked together seamlessly, their laughter and chatter a comforting background noise. Harry joined in, helping with the heavier items, his actions precise and deliberate. You couldn’t help but feel a simmering resentment toward him, remembering the night that had led up to the hate that you had grown towards him.

You glanced around, taking in the beauty of the campsite. Tall trees encircled the clearing, their leaves rustling in the soft breeze. The nearby brook added a soothing melody to the scene, and the late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over everything.

Harry approached, handing you a bottle of water. "You looked like you could use this," he said, his tone neutral.

"Thanks," you replied curtly, accepting the bottle but avoiding eye contact. His gesture did little to ease the tension between you.

With the tents set up and the campsite organized, the four of you gathered around the fire pit. Mark expertly built a fire, and soon the flames were crackling as the sun descended behind the trees, providing warmth and a focal point for the group.

"How was America?" Mark asked Harry as he handed him a beer. "Did you enjoy living there?"

"It was nice for a while," Harry replied, taking a sip. "But it got lonely after a bit. I'm actually happy to be back."

"Marketing, right?" April asked, earning a quick nod from Harry.

You listened quietly, not fully trusting his cheerful demeanor. It was hard to forget the history between you.

"Well, we're glad to have you back," Mark said, clinking his beer bottle against Harry’s. "It’s like old times again."

April smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, just with more responsibilities and less reckless behavior."

"Speak for yourself," Mark joked, earning a playful nudge from April.

Harry chuckled, but his eyes kept drifting toward you. You avoided his gaze, focusing on the fire instead.

Mark instantly got up from his spot, his eyes twinkled mischievously as he took off his jacket and shirt.

April raised an eyebrow, “What are you doing?!”

“I’m going for a swim” he said, grinning widely as he took of his pants along with his boxers.

You burst out laughing, shaking your head as you covered your eyes not wanting to look at your best friend’s boyfriend privates.

“A swim? It’s pretty late, Mark.” April said as Mark used his hands to cover himself.

“Why not?” Mark said, standing up and stretching. “We’re out here in the middle of nowhere, no one around for miles. It’ll be fun.” He wanted to cut the tension. He wanted for everyone to have fun and it was a way to get everyone out of the funk especially the both of you. “Oh, it’s fucking cold” He said as he ran towards the lake.

April rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re crazy, you know that?” she yelled after him as she got up from her spot.

“That’s why you love me,” Mark quipped, winking at her.

You bit your lip, considering it. The idea was wild and spontaneous, something you wouldn’t normally do. But maybe that’s what made it appealing.

“Alright,” you said, surprising yourself. “I’m in. But if anyone mentions this to anyone back home, I’m denying everything.” as you started stripping. You couldn’t see Harry, but you could feel Harry’s stare on you.

April laughed. “This should be interesting. Okay, I’m in too.”

Mark clapped his hands together. “Harry?” He yelled as he splashed water. The water was surprisingly warmer than expected.

As soon as your pants came off, you sprinted towards the water, not wanting to give anyone a chance to inspect your body. April followed right behind you, and before you knew it, both of you were submerged in the cool, refreshing water.

The initial shock of the cold water took your breath away, but it quickly turned invigorating. You surfaced, laughing and pushing your wet hair out of your face. April emerged beside you, her laughter echoing across the lake.

"This is crazy!" she shouted, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Harry was right behind, diving into the water with loud splashes. The four of you swam around, the thrill of the spontaneous adventure making everyone giddy.

"Not your worst idea, Mark," you admitted, floating on your back and gazing up at the starry sky. "This is lovely." Mark grinned, splashing water at you.

“Things haven’t changed at much. We still let you convince us into doing shit” said, his tone lighter than it had been all evening.

For a while, you all floated and swam, the cool water refreshing and the company surprisingly pleasant. The tension and animosity seemed to wash away with the gentle waves.

The atmosphere grew quieter as April nestled closer to Mark, the two of them wrapped up in each other's presence, sharing quiet moments and exchanging soft words. The only sounds breaking the silence were the faint music playing in the background and the gentle crackling of the fire.

You glanced over at April and Mark, their closeness evident in the way they leaned into each other, their whispered conversations carrying an intimacy that made you smile despite yourself. It was a rare sight, seeing them so openly affectionate, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy mixed with genuine happiness for them.

Harry saw opposite you, lost in his thoughts as he stared at the sky. The events of the evening seemed to have softened his demeanor, his usual guarded expression replaced by a contemplative look. For once, the animosity between you felt less palpable, overshadowed by the camaraderie of the evening.

The music played softly in the background, a soothing backdrop to the quiet moments shared among friends. The night air was cool against your skin, but the warmth of the water and the company kept you comfortable.

"It's good to see you again, pup," Harry spoke up suddenly, his voice breaking the peaceful silence. The old nickname tugged at your emotions. He had called you that since college, back when you both shared dreams and aspirations.

You looked at him, caught off guard by his unexpected warmth. "Yeah," you replied softly.

"I heard you landed your dream job," he continued, glancing at you with a hint of a smile. You nodded, trying to conceal your own smile. "A reporter for BBC News. I remember how you used to talk about it non-stop. Proud of you."

“Thanks. How is your mom and Gemma?" you asked, recalling that final year of uni when Harry had invited you to his family home. It had been Easter weekend, a time when you got to meet the two women who made Harry’s world turn.

Harry's face softened at the mention of his family. "They're doing well," he replied, a hint of fondness in his voice. "Mom's as busy as ever, and Gemma is a mum now”

"Wait, what?!" You were taken aback, genuinely surprised by the news. It was unexpected, and you hadn't seen it coming.

Harry chuckled softly at your surprised reaction, his eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and pride. "Yeah, she had a baby girl a few months ago," he explained, his voice tinged with happiness. "It's been quite the adjustment, but she's doing great."

You couldn't help but smile at the thought of Gemma as a mother. "That's amazing," you replied genuinely. "Congratulations to her."

As you processed this new information, you felt a twinge of nostalgia for the times you had spent with Harry and his family. It seemed like another lifetime ago, yet the memories were still vivid in your mind. Despite the distance that had grown between you, moments like these reminded you of the bonds that once connected you.

"Listen, Y/N..." Harry began, but he was swiftly cut off by Mark and April.

"We're heading out. We are starving!" Mark called out, trailing after April as they exited.

Harry paused, his words hanging in the air as Mark and April hurriedly headed towards the campsite. You exchanged a glance with Harry, both of you momentarily sidelined by the interruption.

“I’ll see you out there” You said, trying to sound casual despite the awkwardness of the moment. Deep down, you wondered what Harry had wanted to say—whether it was something about the past or the tentative future you both seemed to be tiptoeing around. However, you didn’t want to stay behind. You weren’t skeptical about giving him a chance to explain himself.

Carefully, you swam back to shore and climbed out of the water. Attempting to regain your composure and stride confidently back to camp, you couldn't help but feel you'd failed miserably, especially with the chilly air gnawing at you.

Everyone changed into comfortable clothes while Mark prepared hot dogs for dinner.

"Did you bring your sleeping bag?" April asked, emerging from her tent.

"Yeah, I think so. It was in the hall by the door," you replied, brushing your hair. As you watched April search for it, a feeling of panic began to creep in. You mentally retraced your steps, recalling the things you had taken out of the trunk.

"No way," you muttered under your breath, frantically rummaging through your belongings. "I thought we grabbed everything!"

"What’s wrong? What are you looking for?" Harry asked, wanting to help.

"I think I left my sleeping bag at home," you sighed, realizing it was going to be a tough night. You had brought your tent, but sleeping on the bare ground wasn’t part of the plan.

Harry frowned, considering the situation. "we'll figure something out," he said, his voice reassuring.

Mark, overhearing the conversation, turned from the campfire where he was tending to the hot dogs. "I brought an extra blanket. It's not a sleeping bag, but it should help.”

"Thanks, Mark," you said, grateful for the gesture. Still, the thought of an uncomfortable night's sleep loomed over you.

April emerged triumphantly with a blanket. "Here, hopefully this makes it more comfortable," she said.

You took the blanket from her, managing a small smile. This trip was definitely not going as you had expected—it seemed like one thing after another.

"Hot dogs are ready!" Mark announced cheerfully as he handed everyone their plate and they gathered around the fire.

“Remember the last time we went camping?” April asked as she swallowed a bite of her hot dog.

“Wasn’t that the time that Mark though there was a bear attacking us?” Harry smirked, taking a bite of his hot dog. “What animal was it?”

“It was a racoon” You joined in, the memory making you chuckle.

“In my defense it was SO loud! It made a lot of noise” Mark laughed, shaking his head. “It was bloody big”.

"Was that before or after you tried to scare it away by singing 'Eye of the Tiger' at the top of your lungs?” April busted out laughing.

“He was so off-key. I am surprised the racoon put up a fight”

“I was just trying to protect us!” Mark threw up his hands in mock indignation.

Everyone busted into laughter again, the tension had melted away in the shared amusement. For a moment, it felt like old times, with jokes and stories like in college.

Later, as you settled into your tent with the borrowed blanket, you couldn’t help but think about all the conversations that you had with your friends. Harry's earlier attempt to talk still lingered in your mind, and you knew that the conversation was far from over.

Just as you were about to drift off, you heard a soft knock on the tent flap. "Hey, you still awake?" It was Harry’s voice.

You sat up, your heart beating a little faster. "Yeah, what’s going on?"

Harry unzipped the tent entrance and peeked in, holding a sleeping bag. "I thought you might need this."

"You brought an extra one?" you asked, suspicion creeping into your voice.

"Yeah," he replied, but his eyes betrayed him. You knew Harry too well to be fooled.

"You're lying," you said, stopping him just as he turned to leave. "You can’t fool me. I know you, Harry Styles. I know this is your sleeping bag."

He paused, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "So, what if it is?"

"That I’m not taking your sleeping bag from you," you insisted, handing it back to him. "Thank you, though."

He hesitated, the flickering firelight casting shadows across his face. "Let's share it then," he suggested softly.

You blinked, taken aback by his offer. You were nervous. The though of you sharing such a tight space and being in such proximity made your heart beat faster and the palms of your hands sweaty.

“Are you sure?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he said firmly, stepping into the tent. “It’s cold, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable”.

With a nod, you scooted over to make room. Harry stretched out the sleeping back and unzipped it for both of you. As you both settled into the sleeping bag, the proximity was comforting, but unsettling at the same time. The warmth of his body next to yours was a stark contrast to the chilly night air. You both shared a pillow and the blanket that April had giving you.

His scent enveloped you — a mix of pine, musk and a hint of the campfire smoke. His warmth radiated through the thin layers of the fabric, soothing the chill of the night air. The gently rise and fall of his chest against your back created a rhythmic presence. His arm draped lightly over your side and the sensation of his body pressed against yours brought an unexpected sense of nostalgia.

“Are you confortable?” He whispered as if sharing. secret, as if what you were doing was somehow forbidden.

You nodded slight, feeling the wright of his questions. “I am” you whispered back, the darkness amplifying the intimacy of the moment.

The silence that followed was filled with the soft sounds of the forest and the distant crackle of the campfire outside.

“Thank you” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“No problem” he replied softly, his words brushing against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the moment. There was still something in the air. Something unspoken.

“Remember that night?” Harry whispered after a while, his voice a gently murmur in the quiet night. Referring to the night of passion that they had shared back in uni. The night that had stayed with you ever since.

“Every second of it” you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of longing and hurt. Memories flooding back, vivid and bittersweet. You could still recall the feel of his lips, the way his touch had ignited a fire within you. “Why did you never call or text back?”

Harry sighed softly, his warm breath against your neck. “I was a coward,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret. “I was scared of what I felt for you, of how much you meant to me. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I ran”

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. You turn slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his for the truth. In the dim light of the tent, you could see raw vulnerability that he rarely showed.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you” You admitted, “I resented you for it” Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of relief and sorrow.

“I am wrong. I was so wrong. I missed you” he confessed. Harry reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek.

The air between you grew thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions. His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. You could feel yourself drawing closer, every inch of space between you crackling with tension. The warmth of his body, the gently rise and fall of his chest and the soft brush of his breath against your skin all conspired to lure you to him.

He hesitated, his eyes flicking down to your lips, and you felt like your breath hitch, the moment stretching into an eternity. The desire to close the gap, to feel the familiar yet thrilling sensation of his kiss, was overwhelming and every fiber of you yearned for that kiss that would final bridge all those years of resentment.

Harry’s gaze was intense, his eyes searching yours as if trying to decipher your every thought. His hand trembled slightly as he reached out, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

With a deep breath, Harry leaned in slowly, closing the miniscule gap between you. His lips brushed against yours with a feather light touch, tentative yet filled with longing. His lips were warm and soft, fitting against yours as if they had always belonged there.

A soft sigh escaped Harry’s lips, a mixture of relief. His hand moved from your cheek to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, each movement a silent confession of years of yearning and regret.

Lost in the moment, you ran your fingers through his hair, savoring the texture and the closeness it brough. His touch sent sparks through your body, awakening every nerve ending with a delicious ache between your legs that only he could take care of.

“Let me have you” His breath mingling with yours as he whispered, “I want you so bad” His hand took yours, guiding it to him, making you feel the intensity of his longing and the very evident erection that he had grown for her. His words hung in the air, heavy with desire.

You nodded slowly, your breath hitching in your throat. "Yes," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. "I want you too.” You didn’t think much about it. Your mind was too clouded.

Harry closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss both tender and urgent. He used the kiss to roll you to your side with your back towards him. Harry pulled off the sweater off your body and pull the straps of your bralette off your shoulders, exposing more skin for his lips to capture.

Harry hands came down to your pants as his lips trailed down to your neck, each kiss a lingering, deliberate caress that sent shivers down your spine. As his mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear, he paused, letting his lips brush lightly over your pulse point before his right hand found its way into your underwear.

“Try to stay quiet, yeah?” As his fingers started playing with you, touching your most intimate spots. His knee came between your legs, spreading them more and allowing him to explore more of you.

Harry left arm went under her head, for you to rest your head against his bicep while he had his way with you. You bit your lips, arching your hips towards his hand just as his fingers entered you. A rush of pleasure coursed through you, mingling with a cascade of nerves that made your heart race.

“God. You are so wet, pup” He groaned as he tried his best to contain himself. Harry left hand came down to cover your mouth as your moans got louder. “You are doing so good, baby”, he mumbled, his arms tightening around you.

“For the love of fuck” you gasped as you came undone on his fingers. It was hot, you were both still nuzzled in the sleeping bag. Just as you unzipped the sleeping bag and sat up, you caught Harry sucking the same two fingers that had been in you a second ago.

“Come here” Harry commanded as he slipped off his joggers and boxers. It was a sight that she hoped to never forget. The muscles of his abdomen flexed proof that he spent his diligent time at the gym. His erection stood tall and proudly inviting you to ride him.

You slipped off your pants and underwear. Harry hands gripped your waist tightly and guided you down on to him. The pleasure was instant as he stretched you out. Harry’s fingers gripped you tightly, holding you still for a second as you both adjusted to the sensation.

His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as his head was thrown back.

“Show me how much you missed me” You said to him which only ignited the fire within him. His hands guided your hips, as you both tried to find the perfect rhythm to drive you off the edge.

“Look at you. So fuckin’ perfect just f’me” Your words only ignited the fire within him, a spark that quickly grew into an all-consuming blaze.

His hands firmly guided your hips, every movement deliberate and driven by an intense desire to bring you both to the peak of ecstasy. The sensation of his strong hands on your skin, the way he moved with you, sent waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You both sought the perfect rhythm, each thrust and shift in sync, the friction and pressure building with every passing second.

“Oh, baby… you are so tight” he moaned, Harry’s grip tightened on your waist, his fingernails digging into your skin. Your thrust and grinding became sloppier and soon enough both of you were moaning. You clenched around him as Harry lifted his hips from the ground as you both came undone.

You laid down on his chest with him still in you. It was comforting, having him in you. Harry’s hands came up and brushed your sweaty hair back.

“You aren’t going to disappear now, are you?” You asked as he drew patterns on your sweaty back.

“I am not going anywhere”.

[literaila]

slip-up

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi says something he's not supposed to

warnings: bit of sad megumi (same babe), gojo is a terrible comforter, reader doesn't get a lot of screen time but she's always there, a good lack of conflict resolution

a/n: the one-shot that started this series. i figured it was time to give it up

last part | next part

*

year four.

megumi doesn't notice the slip-up right when he says it. he's not even really paying attention to the conversation. 

instead, he's thinking about the homework assignment he was supposed to turn in today--the one that gojo refused (couldn't) help him with. 

"my mom usually drops us off," he's telling his teacher, trying to be polite like you taught him and not start whining (like gojo taught him). "but she's out of town right now, so gojo dropped us off instead and he gets the times confused..." 

in all honesty, megumi could blame this whole thing on gojo. because it was his fault. 

usually, you woke him and tsumiki up, pulling on his hair when he whined into the pillows, packing their lunches while they both sat at the table, eating cereal or tamagoyaki. usually, you reminded megumi to tuck in his shirt and helped the two of them get their books together, taking an occasional moment to shout at megumi's budget dad to get up before he was late. usually, you walked them to the door, kissing them both goodbye and watching both of them until they closed the door. 

later on, you'd be there again, welcoming them home with another smile, asking about their days. forcing them into a thorough recap. 

but today megumi woke up with a sore neck and gojo smiling at him, asking if he was planning on being buried in his bed. 

because even though megumi heard you tell gojo that he needed to help out, step up, the mornings while you were gone, all of you should've known better. 

megumi hasn't even ever seen gojo out of bed before nine-thirty. 

so here he was, with his shirt untucked, his homework missing, and a bag of lollipops that gojo packed for lunch. 

here he was, three hours late for school, trying to explain to his teacher that it wasn't his fault. 

and here he was, accidentally calling you mom. 

but megumi doesn't even realize that until his teacher smiles a little bit, telling him that she understands, asking him when his mom gets back. 

megumi freezes. 

the word repeats in his mind, and he finally realizes his slip-up. 

sure, he's heard tsumiki call you it before--because for all intents and purposes, that's what you were. after four years of your unconditional love, the two of them knew, truly, that they could depend on you. 

but megumi has never had a mom, and he doesn't now. 

so it's still gojo's fault when the first tear rolls down his cheek. which megumi promptly wipes away. he's not going to cry--he's not the sort of kid that cries. he prides himself on it, actually. not needing the same sort of attention that he's seen his classmates get, never feeling things that deeply. 

but he's crying now, and his neck still hurts as he turns away from his teacher, going to sit down at his desk. 

and megumi isn't the type of kid that cries, but when he puts his head down, his cheeks feel a little damp. 

*

megumi's got a headache now--another reason why he doesn't cry--and he sort of wants to curl up in bed until tsumiki gets home, and then convince her to run away with him. 

but he doesn't. 

when gojo unlocks the door, megumi goes through it without stopping to look around. he drags his backpack to his room--gojo watching the whole time, of course--and closes the door before the man can say anything stupid. 

he can't deal with him right now. or ever, actually. 

megumi sets his backpack up against the wall with a brief thought about homework and the class he's going to miss because of this, but he doesn't care enough to dwell on it. 

everything about him feels stiff, like glue got between the seems of his very core. 

he's ten years old. he shouldn't have to worry about anything. 

he takes off his blazer, sets it on his desk with sweaty palms, and feels quite naked--even with the layers of clothes and lack of eyes. and his head hurts. megumi wants to get up and restart his day just so he can tell some version of his former self not to be so stupid. 

but he knows that's just the guilt talking, so he ignores that too. 

and it's only ten minutes into his glooming that there's a knock on the door, and gojo doesn't knock, so megumi knows immediately that something's wrong. 

he's lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, but he leans up on his elbow when you peek your head into the room. 

for a brief moment, megumi is so relieved to see you that he almost jumps up and clings to you--like some child would. 

he wants to hold onto you and beg you not to leave again, because everything seems to go wrong when you’re not there. he wants to tell you that he’s scared, and that he’s not sure what to do.

but he refrains, and blinks idly, confused about why you're here, and why his heart hurts just from looking at you. 

“hey, you okay?” you whisper, taking a step into the dark room. you don't look banged up, and megumi wonders what gojo said to get you to come home. he probably told you that megumi was dying, or something. 

you sit on the edge of his bed, and your hand is on his forehead before megumi can blink. “you feel sick?” 

megumi nods, but his eyes don’t meet yours. it's a small enough lie. 

“i’m sorry. did satoru give you any medicine?” 

“did you have to come home for me?” 

you smile, slightly. “no, buddy, don’t worry. it was easier than they said, just a grade one. plus i kinda rushed it cause i missed you guys.” you push his hair out of his eyes, “now, medicine?”

“i don’t want any.” 

“if you don’t feel good—“ 

“actually,” he interrupts. “can—i, um, i don’t really want to talk.” 

you pause, eyes roaming over his face. “oh. okay. that’s fine.” 

you remove your hands from him immediately, walls of metaphorical space flying up between the two of you. “i’ll leave you alone. just ask if you need anything, okay? i’m going to go unpack.”

he nods and you give him a little grin. 

and right as you're at the door, he falters. he doesn’t really want you to go. he wants you to crawl into bed with him, treat him like he's actually sick, and let him lay with his head in your lap. he wants to ask you the same question that's been in his head since he said it, but he can't. 

“y/n?” he whispers, instead, your name feeling wrong in his mouth. 

“yeah?"

“will... will you get gojo?" he asks, even though it's not what he wants to say at all. "i want to talk to him.” 

“gojo?” you frown, looking at him. “yeah. of course, yeah. i’ll go get him. one sec.” 

and when you close the door, megumi feels like he’s said something wrong. slipped up again. 

he sits there and waits, feeling incorrect in his body. he wants you to come back and tell him that it'll all be fine, but he knows that you won't. if there's one thing you're good at, it's respecting boundaries. 

and megumi has a lot of them. 

gojo doesn’t knock when he comes into the room, and megumi is so lost in thought that he jumps as soon as the door clicks open. 

megumi’s neck flies as he looks at him, wide eyes. he's already sat up, preparing himself for an influx of anger. 

“is this about your lunch?” gojo asks, immediately, words fast and smooth. “because that wasn’t my fault. i thought your school did that.”

“you bought us our lunchboxes,” megumi argues, “you made me get the weird one with the dragon.” 

“do not insult dracomon like that.” 

megumi rolls his eyes. “whatever.” 

“so, you wanna talk to me, huh?" gojo sits on megumi’s desk chair, legs hanging off the sides. “i think this is the first real conversation we’ve ever had.” 

megumi rolls his eyes again. 

gojo waves a hand. "alright. what is it?" 

megumi pauses. he can't ask gojo. even if he had an answer, it would be the least trustworthy version of one. 

he scratches his neck, not sure how to lie about this. knowing that he's not supposed to lie in the first place. 

he's doing everything wrong today. 

gojo shakes his head, white hair the victim of many fashion crimes. “spit it out, kid. i just did you a huge favor, and i don’t have time for the attitude.” 

“you didn’t do anything,” megumi frowns, crossing his arms. 

gojo snorts. “you think they just say ‘come get your child’ when you’re crying at your desk?” he asks, rhetorically, and megumi’s face goes still. “no, they disrupted my nap, saying that you needed to be picked up and handed me a card for a child psychologist.” 

“they told you?” 

he nods. “and i didn’t tell y/n,” he grins, self-satisfied. “so you’re welcome.” 

“why not?” 

“because she would’ve freaked out, and i don’t need that, and i’m pretty sure you don’t want that…” 

megumi nods immediately. 

“it can stay our secret if you tell me what’s going on. i’ll edit the report when y/n asks,” then he turns, looking at the door. “even though she’s already listening in.” 

“really?” megumi bites the inside of his cheek, checking the crack under the door for feet. 

satoru kicks him. “no. she’s in her room. now, talk. i don’t know how long she’ll take.” 

megumi swallows. he doesn’t really want to ask—not his only real question—but he’s already gotten this far. 

at least it doesn't matter what he says, because no one will believe anything gojo makes up anyway. 

“megumi…” gojo prods. 

“do you know where my mom is?” 

there’s a pause. a very long pause where megumi feels like he’s being scrutinized.

he can tell that gojo is looking at him very closely, a microscope to megumi’s cell, even though he can’t see his eyes.

“i—“ gojo pulls a strand of hair by his ear. clearing his throat. “i, um, im not sure. why?” 

“no reason.” 

there’s a very weird wince on the man’s face. “do you want to… talk about them? your… parents?” 

“no,” megumi says immediately. 

gojo sighs. “look, i’ll tell you if you really want to know—“ 

“i don’t care. i just… i don’t care.” 

“…okay.” 

“okay.” 

the two of them are both lying. they have the same neck-scratching, and looking away tells. if you were in the room, you would be monitoring both of them very harshly. probably scolding them for the look on both of their faces.

gojo’s expression is so much weirder than megumi’s ever seen it. “are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” 

“i just wanted to know if you knew,” megumi says, crossing his arms, then doing it again. “i don’t care about them. they don’t care about me.” 

“well, i don’t know that—“ 

“no. you and y/n took us in and they didn’t care. so why should i?” 

“right.” gojo nods. “right we… took you in.” 

megumi nods, as a finality, and then deflates a little bit. 

he doesn’t care about his mom—whoever she is, wherever she might be. he doesn’t. he just… also doesn’t want to replace her. 

it feels wrong to think about. she doesn’t care about his life, so why should he care about hers? 

it's a stupid sort of guilt. if tsumiki said anything like it, megumi wouldn't talk to her for a week. 

but it's the sort of guilt over you, and a woman he knows nothing about. someone he doesn't really want to know about. 

maybe that makes it worse. 

“did someone say something at school?” 

megumi frowns. “no. why would they?” 

gojo shrugs. “kids are jerks,” he answers, simply, and then mutters “i would know…” under his breath, making megumi want to punch him again. 

“no one said anything.” 

“then why were you crying this morning?” 

“i wasn’t crying.” 

“hey,” gojo frowns. “crying is fine. it’s good.” 

“i know,” megumi crosses his arms. 

“okay, then.” 

megumi doesn’t even know why he wanted to talk to gojo in the first place. 

“look,” gojo sighs, his fingers tapping along the body of the chair. he whispers something that sounds suspiciously like “y/n is so much better at this,” and then meets megumi’s eyes—metaphorically, of course. everyone knows that gojo doesn’t have any eyes. “if you want to talk about your parents, we can talk about them. tsumiki asks questions every once in a while. and…” he breaks away, shaking his head. “if there’s something i don’t know, then i'll—we’ll figure it out. i’ve got eyes everywhere.” 

gojo is grinning at his little joke, but megumi’s frown deepens. 

"i don't care about them," he says, again, as a reassurance to them both. 

"they are your parents, you know?" he holds his hands up in defense, probably from the glare megumi is giving him. "i'm just saying. curiosity is normal." 

"how would you know?" 

gojo sighs, tilting his head back. he looks almost hurt. "i'm wise. i've got years of experience on you." 

"no, you don't." 

he shakes his head. "now i'm going to start crying." 

megumi stares at him. if he could trade gojo for literally anyone else in the world, he would. 

and yet, he doesn't want to talk to you about this. he doesn't want to talk at all. and he does. 

at least he knows that gojo won’t take any of this too seriously. that he won’t get to the bottom of the problem, like neither of them wants.

"do you think..." megumi starts, whispering. "do you ever regret taking us in?" 

gojo swallows. he looks almost hesitant to answer, but megumi knows that must be wrong. gojo has never hesitated a moment in his life.

"well, you guys are pretty mean to me. but no, we don't regret it. why would we?" he asks, teasing, like always. "children are for chores." 

megumi shakes his head. 

"you should--" gojo scrunches his nose. "i can get y/n. she's got better answers, anyway." 

"no!" megumi holds his hand out when the man begins to move from the chair, heart racing. "i don't want to talk to her." 

"did something happen with you guys? you think someone might mention it to me..." 

"no, nothing happened. i just... want to talk to you." 

gojo snorts, but he sits back down. "whatever you did, i'm sure it's not that bad. remember that time i set tsumiki's hair on fire when she was gone? that was bad." 

"i didn’t do anything. i'm not like you," megumi scowls, looking away. 

"would you like a reward?" gojo asks, dryly. "most people wouldn't openly admit that. i admire your confidence." 

both of them are silent, megumi considering the consequences of just saying the words out loud, nonetheless to gojo--who definitely won't know what to do with them. 

after a minute, gojo clears his throat. "okay, megumi. my turn. do you regret coming here with me? instead of going with your family? you'd be clan head someday, you know." 

"that place with the freaky shed of weapons you showed me?" 

"yup." 

"no," megumi doesn't have to think about that. "tsumiki's with me here. and i--"

i like it here, he almost slips. i love you guys.

megumi sighs. he doesn't want to say that to gojo. 

but the older man looks like he already knew what he meant, a dumb smile on his face. "good. okay. well, i don't know what's wrong with you," he gives megumi a pointed look, saying that he actually does. "but i'm sure it'll all work out. you've got me here, so there's nothing to worry about. and y/n would kill me if anything happened to you, so. don't worry about your parents, kid." 

megumi blinks at him. because his problems can be summed up with a quick "yeah, that's cool." 

he rolls his eyes. 

gojo's hand nudges his knee. "you can still ask if you want. anytime. we love you, you know? y/n more than me, but still..." 

megumi shakes his head. "well i love her more than you." 

"good. tsumiki's my favorite anyway." 

"good. she's the only one who can deal with you." 

"good," gojo retorts, like a child. 

he leans in, ruffling megumi's hair as he does it. "even if you are pretty annoying, i'll still do some research for you. see about your mom." 

"you don't have to--" 

"i can't pick you up every time you're crying in class," gojo shrugs, so simply. definitely a joke in the words, but no teasing. "and i won't tell y/n. but you should talk to her. she worries." 

"i know." 

gojo smiles. "okay. as long as you know." 

the two of them sit there for a while more, gojo making an awful comment every couple of lapses in silence, megumi answering with an equally sarcastic retort, and the two of them not minding at all. 

and megumi still can't get the question out--are you his mom?--but there's the undeinable feeling that no one else can answer it for him anyway. 

and gojo seems to know that, so he doesn't say anything about it. just lingers there, like an illness, waiting until megumi is okay, or maybe waiting for him to ask something else. 

even though megumi doesn’t want to give the man any credit, he knows that gojo understands a lot more than he lets on. and, just from the weird little prideful looks he gives him every time he says something, megumi knows that he probably gets what this is about.

but if gojo isn’t going to say anything, then neither is he.

still, it’s nice to have him here.

there’s no comforting glances, or squeezing of hands with gojo. no acute words and adept gestures.

megumi has never expected gojo to overcome his tendency towards immaturity, or to become something that he’s simply not.

but there is just this. just the man who’s been there for long enough for megumi to notice. to understand that he’s not going away so easily.

and it’s nice to have you both. (megumi won’t admit that the gratitude he has for his makeshift parents is much stronger, more vehement than any worry about biology, or being left behind).

eventually, megumi's eyes begin to droop, and even though his headache is less stress-induced, it's still there, a gentle pounding at his skull. 

like a reminder that things are going to change, even if he doesn't want them to. that he's growing up, and he can't protect everyone from his emotions forever. 

but megumi doesn't have enough energy to think about it. so he lays down against his pillows, eyelids fluttering open and closed. 

and he can just see it when gojo sneaks out of the room, whistling softly as he leaves, purposefully leaving the door open. 

megumi should've gone to live with that clan. 

*

"hey," you stand from your chair, looking not at satoru, but behind him, like the essence of their conversation is going to follow him through the door. "what'd he want? is he okay?" 

you dance on your feet awkwardly, looking like you were waiting that whole time (you were). 

satoru smiles, leaning on the counter to stare at you, at your nervous little lip bite. "he's fine." 

"is he feeling really sick? he told me he didn't want any medicine, but if he's got a headache or something, then i could give him a pain reliever. did he seem bad? should we take him to the doctor? i can probably schedule an appointment--" 

you're cut off by satoru as he nears you, crushing you against his chest in a hug so tight that it knocks the air from your lungs. 

seriously, jujutsu sorcerers and their sheer amount of muscle training are ridiculous. 

"satoru--" you squeeze out, but he holds you even tighter. 

"it's all good," he says like it's an answer, and he sounds like he knows something that you don't. probably because he does. 

but after a moment you relax into him. even if you have to bribe him with cuddles, someone's going to tell you what's going on... 

*

next part | series masterlist

[runa-falls]

Please write a story where Marc and Jake tease Steven for being soft in bed so he becomes this dominant rough guy who overstims the reader IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAY I JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO WRITE IT DOWN

a/n: idk how to write it down either, but i'll give it a shot! btw, marc and jake would never talk to steven like this, but just for the sake of the story they're assholes :( also sorry this is a YEAR late 0-0

cw: smut (18+), voyeurism (3x), f!masturbation, mean/ooc!marc + jake, rough sex, overstimulation, oral (f!recieving), multiple orgasms!, slightly possessive lovemaking, slight breeding kink (creampie), sad-ish/insecurity, feelings, dom-ish!steven, fluff -- (idk why it got so soft so fast im sorry), L-bombs, commentary from the other moon boys~

wc: 3.5k

masterlist

---

he watches from the doorway as you whine and mewl on the bed, desperately attempting to get yourself off.

your whole body glistens with heat as you squirm under the dull lighting of the room-- clearly, you've been at this for a while.

you are dressed in a familiar white undershirt that is definitely from the boys' closet, but your bottom half is bare and spread out, dripping onto the comforter as your fingers work their magic.

a perfect eye-full for your 3-in-1 boyfriend.

"this is why you're not allowed to have her on the weekends." marc taunts from a nearby mirror, though his eyes are locked on your writhing body. steven clenches his jaw as the grating voice in his head pulls him away from the alluring scene in front of him.

god knows why he decided to put up so many mirrors in the flat. it's like he's trying to drive himself crazy.

your eyes are squeezed shut as your finger delicately circles against your clit, spreading your slick all over your pulsing cunt until wet sounds begin to fill the air. you suck on your bottom lip as you frantically tease the sensitive bud, your legs tense from the build-up, and your back arches off the mattress.

"she needs a real man to take care of her after a long week of work."

that irks steven.

you've never talked about being unsatisfied by his slower pace -- by his need to savor each look, sound, and touch that you give him.

of course, jake needs to chime in as well, "look at our girl, stevie, she's so needy. let me have the body. i'll give her what she needs."

steven tries to block them out, but it's hard when their voices are coming straight from his own mind.

when he thinks back on your time together, everything is perfect. at least to him, it is.

he loves hearing your soft breathy moans, tasting the sweetness of your pussy dripping from his kitten licks, and feeling those delicate kisses that you share as you ride him gently. you fall apart in his arms, hold him close, and exchange whispered 'i love you's.

sure, he's always been the softer side of the three -- kissing over jake's bites or gently caressing marc's bruises -- but he thought you liked that. he thought that was enough.

but now you're getting yourself off without even seeking him out first.

you're close, so fucking close, panting out stuttered breathes, thighs clenching together, and body shaking, but --

"fuck!"

it's not enough.

your heart beats rapidly against your chest as you start to come down from that unreachable peak you've been chasing all day. as your foggy mind finally clears up, you sense someone at the door.

"s-steven!" you're surprised to see him, especially just standing there, watching you fail to pleasure yourself.

his work shifts have been running later and later since marc's last mission (donna is forcing him to work unpaid overtime instead of firing him) so you weren't expecting him until dinner time.

the shifts have been brutal for him.

these days, he just eats sleep for dinner, too tired to do more than just collapse on the couch and cuddle you. you've tried to convince him to just quit, that jake's cab escapades and marc's more 'eccentric' job opportunities can pay for everything, but he really loves the job, despite the weirdly toxic work environment.

"darling."

it's a flat greeting, a tone you've never heard from his lips, especially not when he's fronting. he doesn't seem happy to see you. actually, he looks quite upset.

you cover yourself up with a blanket, suddenly uncomfortable with your partial nudity when he's unhappy like this.

"why are you back so early?" the usual glimmer in his eyes is snuffed out, instead replaced with an eerie darkness. "what's--are you okay, honey?"

"take it off."

"w-what?" you know he's referring to the blanket, but the way he demanded it --

"off."

you hesitantly move the blanket, revealing the evidence of your unfulfilled desperation. you shyly look up at him, embarrassed and terribly turned on that he's making you do this.

you can't help but press your thighs together, already feeling another spark of heat simply from seeing your darling boyfriend with his head of messy curls.

"keep them open."

you obey his command and spread your legs, leaning back to give him a good view. his eyes meet your center, the frustration you couldn't get rid of. you immediately see need blooming in his body, particularly under his slacks.

soft-spoken steven has never been as forthcoming as his counterparts, but he doesn't need to be, his body does all the talking for him.

you're watching each other as he slowly approaches you, tension thick in the air. he's so desperate to give you exactly what you need and deserve.

steven's mind runs through all the times he had stuck around while marc and jake fucked you.

the first time it happened, he didn't mean to watch through marc's eyes, but once he saw how easily you submitted for him, how utterly ruined you are once marc is done with you, he couldn't help but pop in once in a while.

steven nearly flushes in shame from the memory. he's so perverted...

marc is possessive, steven learned. he likes to know that you're his. he marks you up with his hands and mouth so you'll never forget who you belong to, then he makes you scream his name as you reach your high as he fucks his cum into you.

of course, you're happy to give him whatever he demands, laying right where he wants you and taking anything he'd give you.

jake's methods are different: he makes you cry.

it's the overstimulation that gets him off the best. the sight of your body shaking and writhing to get away from his insatiable touch gets him hard, makes him growl against your tacky skin. he gets off to getting you off, and you love it.

so maybe a mixture of both is what you need.

he can do that.

"i need you to do something for me." he curses inwardly at how soft his voice is when he talks to you. it's a reflex. he's supposed to be confident and rough.

"anything." you breathe out.

"turn around for me, love." he's standing right by the bed, leaning over you. "on all fours."

the surface of your body ripples with goosebumps as you position yourself on the bed for him. he hasn't even touched you and you're already humming with pleasure.

you hear him sigh behind you before he shuffles closer and delicately caresses your bare hips and bottom with warm hands. you feel yourself melt against the mattress as you drop from holding yourself up by your hands to leaning on your forearms. he always makes you feel soft and cozy, even with the simple contact of his hand against your body.

steven watches you arch your back as you get comfortable, hungrily taking in the way you unconsciously push your ass toward him. you're effortlessly sexy to him. you could simply put your hair up into a ponytail and he'd be rock-hard in his slacks from seeing your bare neck. so this...is distracting him.

"so..." marc's voice pulls him out of his thoughts, "you gonna do anything or just stare at her all night?"

"I'm working on it!" steven grits out (in his mind).

"alright, show me how it's done then, loverboy."

you gasp quietly as steven suddenly forces your legs to spread wider for him. you would have lost your balance if it weren't for his steady hold on you.

he slowly kneels in front of the bed, briefly adjusting himself in his pants to relieve some of his desperation. you struggle to keep your legs apart when you feel his warm breaths brush against your needy cunt. you swear you're literally throbbing with need for him.

jake's done this before, steven recalls, eating you out from behind. you seemed to really enjoy it despite the intense overstimulation that pushed you to tears and the bruises left on your thighs from his tight hold and nipping mouth.

he can do this.

he leans in and lightly brushes his plump lips against your wet center to test the waters. your muffle a whimper against the pillow you cling onto, but he hears it loud and clear.

you're so soft and wet, already falling apart in front of him. he can't help but poke his tongue out to taste your sweetness. the warm softness of his tongue has you urgently pushing yourself against him and he takes that as his sign to go deeper.

this time he holds you closer, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he dips into the hot opening of your cunt, working his tongue against your tender walls. his mouth waters at the taste of you and he's desperately leaning in for more.

he thrusts his tongue into your cunt, filling the room with slurping noises that nearly make you blush with how lewd they sound. he's pressed so closely behind you that he's practically supporting your weight as your legs grow too weak to hold you up.

"s-ste-- a-aah-- mm..." you fall apart when he starts licking from your entrance to your clit, flicking eagerly as you start to gush against his tongue. he can already feel your legs twitch and tremble as you try to escape his hot mouth.

your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel his soft lips wrap around your aching clit. it's almost too much for you to handle. he suckles on your sensitive bud until you're whining out against your pillow as your body trembles with the crash of your orgasm.

steven ignores your pleas and your attempts to escape his mouth as he continues to work you through your high. he cleans you up with a gentle mouth, making sure not to miss a single drop. drool pools against the pillow as your exhausted body struggles to stay conscious.

“hm, not bad…” jake admires your trembling frame from a reflective surface nearby, hungrily taking in the scene and wishing he were in steven's place instead. "maybe we were wrong about you, stevie."

steven watches you as well, but with a hint of reluctance. he's never seen you like this first hand. usually, you're the one staring down at him with a small smile as he attempts to catch his breath from your teasing antics.

he's not sure if he likes this any more than the usual dynamic the two of you have. of course he loves knowing that he can make you fall apart just as much as marc and jake, but it's not him.

"you're not done with her yet, right?" marc asks, "'cuz if you are, i'd be happy to finish her off."

jake is quick to argue, "actually markie, i'm pretty sure it's my turn to spoil our little princess."

steven finally bites back, "no, tonight she's mine."

he grumbles, making an effort to push his annoyances into silence so he can give all of his attention to you.

steven nudges you to lay on your back so he can see your face, "love, are you alright?" his tone is light, despite the fact he's eager to continue ravaging you -- even if you do end up falling asleep.

"mhm," your eyes flutter open, sparkling with satisfaction as you stare up at him. you're adorable with that post-sex flush on your skin, highlighting the tops of your cheeks. "i just... wasn't expecting this from you."

"did you like it?"

"steven, i can barely feel my legs."

he lets out a nervous chuckle like he's unsure whether that's a good thing or not, but you ease his mind with a soft smile. you reach up and cradle his face, "yes, baby, i loved it." he presses his cheek against your hand, enjoying your embrace, "i always like it when you touch me."

"then can we do more?"

of course, you want to have sex with him, but...that, no matter how mind-blowing it was, wasn't him. steven is the type of guy to hold eye contact with you while eating you out, wanting to catch every expression and moan of praise as he brings you to the edge. he's the type to hold your hand as you cum, squeezing lovingly to encourage you to fully let go because you're safe with him.

all night he's been acting off. he's been distant and in his head -- and you have a faint idea as to why (their names rhyme with "bark and bake") but you want your sweet and gentle steven back.

you take his hand, "w-wait...steven?"

“yes, darling?"

you sit up, "can you, um, kiss me first?" it's a bit embarrassing to ask when he's already been nose deep in your cunt, but you need that sweet embrace that he's always given.

"of course." steven’s eyes soften.

cool relief rushes through his body. maybe he was wrong, maybe you do like his soft touches and sweet kisses. maybe you like him for being himself. it's not like marc and jake are the same anyway. each of them gives you something special.

he leans in closer and presses his lips against yours, his body trapping you against the bed. he immediately feels you relax against him as you start to move your mouth over his. he kisses you gently, taking time to trace over the sensitive edge of your bottom lip before dipping in and laving his tongue against yours. 

when you separate from each other with puffy lips and heated breaths, you can't help but admire the pretty man above you who regards you with pure admiration in his eyes.

"make love to me steven," you whisper, "a-and hold me after, please." his soft brown eyes, full of longing and admiration, meet yours.

"always, love." he pecks you once more on the lips, "i'd do anything for you." you feel his lips move down from your mouth to the edge of your jaw, then your shoulder, and finally the top of your covered chest.

he sits up briefly to pull your shirt off before doing the same with his own clothes. once he's in nothing but his briefs, he's back on top of you.

steven has stars in his eyes as he watches his hand slide over the softness of your curves. he loves how perfectly you fit against him.

you gasp softly as he teasingly brushes his thumb against your nipple. your body is already so sensitive to his touch.

"you're so beautiful..." he whispers.

as he leans in and captures the bud in his mouth, his hand drags down to the spot where you need him the most, sending a wave of sensations through your body and causing you to arch against his mouth.

you're already wet enough for him to slip his fingers inside of you, so he immediately begins thrusting deeply against your spongey walls, letting sloppy sounds of your wetness echo through the bedroom.

you tangle your fingers into his curls and arch your back as he starts to suckle at your nipple. his slick tongue flicks over the hardened bud, sending tingles up your spine. you are already half-delirious from how expertly he's working your body.

everything seems to speed up when you start to squirm under him. he's pushing you harder onto the bed, he's nipping love bites at your tits, his hand is moving faster against you -- from the sounds coming between you, you're sure you've made a mess of his hand.

"s-steven...mm...please!" your thighs squeeze around his wrist as he gets overzealous, hitting your g-spot over and over again without giving you a breather. he groans against your breast when you tug at his hair.

without any warning, he pulls away.

you reluctantly let him get up (though you're definitely too weak at this point to stop him) and you're left to breathlessly watch as he licks his fingers clean and pulls himself out of his briefs.

pleasure continues to buzz against the surface of your skin as you hungrily stare at the way he pumps himself delicately in front of you, his cock is already dripping with desperation. he looks at you with glazed eyes and flushed cheeks while he touches himself.

what a pretty boy...

"need to feel you," steven mumbles, shifting closer to you to press his cock against the seam of your cunt.

"feel me," you beg, canting your hips upwards to meet him.

steven gently moves himself against you, rutting himself against your wet center. he pants when his tip just barely presses into your entrance, proving how ready you are for him.

slowly, he pushes himself in, shuddering at how soft and wet you feel around him.

you whimper softly when he starts fucking you at a slow pace, forcing you to feel how perfectly he stretches you out, over and over again.

your body shudders every time he bottoms out and presses so intensely against that spot inside of you, making you feel like you're about to burst if he doesn't pull out soon.

steven looks down at your face, wanting to see if you're liking this -- but it turned out to be a mistake. he meant to make this sweet, to hold back and make love to you like you asked, but when you look up at him with those shiny eyes and that blissed, fucked-out expression, he can't help the way his hips start to frantically grind against yours.

"i'm sorry, love, i can't -- uhh -- c-can't help it when you look at me like that!" steven pushes your thighs upwards, forcing them closer to the mattress on either side of your head. you cry out as the new angle pushes him deeper within you, hitting every buzzing nerve inside of your sopping cunt.

"mm...steven!" the bed below rocks as his hips violently slap against you in a rhythmic motion.

he groans as he watches his cock thrust inside of you, making a mess of your wet center as you gush around him. you look so small under him, yet you're eagerly taking every inch in that tight cunt.

"i-i want to be inside of you forever..." steven pants out, "and i want you to feel me," he reaches between your bodies to press against your stomach, "here, forever."

"ahh~" you pant heatedly as the added pressure of his hand makes him feel even bigger inside of you. you squirm under him from the intense feeling, but you can barely move out from his hold.

"i love you, darling." he chokes out as he grows closer to the edge, rutting deliciously against the top wall of your pussy. "t-tell-tell me you love me too."

"fuck -- i love you, steven. i'll a-always -- nmph," you flutter around him as the heat of your own climax explodes throughout your body. "love you~" you can barely get the words out as he finishes inside of you.

you don't mind the way he rests on top of you as he attempts to catch his breath. his body is hot and sticky against yours, but it feels comforting nonetheless.

"mm...i missed you and your sweetness." you sigh, enjoying his weight over you, even if it is a tad difficult to breathe.

steven sheepishly mumbles against you, "but that wasn't exactly sweet lovemaking."

"sure, but it was you."

he simply hums happily in response, dotting light kisses against your tacky neck before nuzzling his face against you.

when you both cooled off, you decidedly needed a little space from the man pinning you to the mattress, "ok i need to breathe a little, steven."

"oh, oops, i'll get up." he pushes himself up so he can give you some air. you can't help but shudder as he starts to pull out of you.

"ah~" you can feel the warmth of his cum start to drip from your center, "you came so much, steven. look -- you made a mess." you tease, opening your legs for him.

"m'sorry, love." he sits back on his knees in front of you, staring down at the mess he made (as if he isn't just as messy). "didn't mean to..."

it doesn't sound like he's sorry though -- not by the distracted way he mutters out the apology while scooping up his cum and shoving it back into you.

"steven."

"i'm just trying to minimize the mess!" he defends.

you don't stop him because it feels oddly pleasant to be doted on like this. you'll just have to do a final cleanup later, you decide.

"imagine if i weren't on birth control," you joke, "i'd definitely be pregnant by now."

"..."

"steven are you hard again?!"

[hazbn-oneshots]

Bathtime Headcanons

Just a few headcanons for sharing a bubble bath with the main characters. Enjoy!

Charlie:

oddly enough Charlie doesn’t partake in full baths as much as she favors showers.

She’s busy dealing with the hotel and along with ruling as the Princess of Hell so she much prefers a quick warm spray.

On the occasion, however, she finds herself tired enough that you might just be able to convince her to indulge with you. 

You make a point of dredging up any kind of bubble bath, bath bomb, lotion, anything you can find to ensure that you can provide the best bubble bath possible.

Music plays softly over a small speaker, but it’s drowned out the hushed whispers of words of love as you meticulously wash and condition her hair.

Conditioning is your favorite step. Charlie didn’t need it often as her hair somehow stayed so silky, so every now and then when you got to run a soft brush through her hair, twisting it gently to pin atop her head.

She tries to wash you in return but you always push her hand away, insisting on pampering her after a hard day.

Usually ends with you drying her off and carrying her to bed when she inevitably passes out.

Vaggie:

Vaggie loves baths but she’s hard pressed to admit it. Nothing feels better on sore muscles than a nice soak, ideally with lavender. She loves lavender.

The two of you had been dating for about 6 months before she even entertained the idea of going to you with such a request. 

She was too embarrassed to ask.

-in the end, how she broaches the subject is by surprising you one night when you return home. A few candles lined the edge of the bathtub that was filled nearly to the brim with bubbles.

”I just thought it would be nice, you’ve been gone all day” And you know better to react calmly should you risk spooking the flustered angel with the scarlet red face.

She’s the one that drags it out in the end. She’d wrap her arms just a little tighter around your waist and mutter about how the water would stay warm for just a little longer.

Vaggie gives sweet towel hugs.

Alastor:

Listen, Alastor takes pride in his hygiene. He takes the utmost care to keep himself and his dress in immaculate condition. 

He’ll invest in facial creams, hair creams, body creams, oils, lotions, you name it and he’s used it. 

But baths? No. Absolutely not.

You’ve only attempted to convince Alastor to take a bath with you and neither occasion ended particularly well. The radio demon wouldn’t speak to you for a week after the first failed attempt and had all but removed himself from your life with the second so you couldn’t say you were in any hurry for a third.

However, the two of you have come to a happy compromise. Whenever you found yourself in the mood to draw a bath you would sometimes find Alastor pulling a chair up next to the tub with a book tucked under his arm. So would begin a lovely tradition between the both of you.

More than once you’ve found yourself dozing to the soft static of the Alastor’s voice, and in response the demon would lightly tap his cane against the edge of the tub to rouse you.

Don’t fall asleep though, three strikes and he’ll leave you in the tub. No he doesn’t.

Husk:

Not. A. Fan. Considering his entire being consists of fur and feathers, Husk can and will do everything within his power to avoid bathing if he can. Look, it’s just not his idea of a fun night to sit down with a hairdryer and attempt to wring himself out as best he can.

Inevitably he’d miss a spot and end up with stale wet cat smell and no one likes that, especially not our resident grump.

He won’t make a fuss if you want to bathe with him though. What he will do is laugh while patting your shoulder. “I’ll wait for ya in the room”

The more comfortable he gets, however, you’ll start to see that eventually Husk begins to find reasons just to ‘wander’ into the bathroom with you. He misses you, you know it, but it’s still sweet to see him making the excuse of looking for his lucky pair of boxers.

”The water’s always warm darlin”

You better get the blow dryer ready, the only way you can convince him is if you’ll deal with it. You don’t mind though, the purrs are worth it

Angel Dust:

You and Angel take turns picking which bath bombs and bubble baths that you’ll throw into whichever potion you’ll be brewing up tonight.

Bathtime with Angel was always a favorite for you, you couldn’t think of anything better than getting to curl up with your cuddle bug in your arms. Although things never really stay that way for long.

It’s hard not to tease while washing each other. A slip of the hand here, just a little rough touch of loofah there, just a sweet little taste of what could be but the restraint comes easy in the relaxed atmosphere. Just in times like these Angel will be patient enough to wait until you can actually make it to the bed. 

Angel won’t let you wash his hair. You don’t know why he’s so particular about it but if you interrupt his routine of products then his entire night is ruined so you choose the peaceful route and leave the man be. That doesn’t mean he won’t wash your hair for you if you ask though, those four hands of his do wonders at massaging the scalp.

Angel will 10/10 let you towel dry him every single time and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t use it as an opportunity to make a show at bending this way and that, making sure to get every inch of him.

He looks like a fluffy mess afterwards but hey, he’s your fluffy mess.

Requests open!!

[kittievampire]

Leviathan Domming reader after he ate some aphrodisiac snacks while games??? 🫢

(Not to mention he has two cocks)

Duuuude I've been waiting for someone to request double-dick Levi so I'd have an excuse to write abt it

Lemme see what I have in my bag, my dear~

Click here if you wanna request!

Gamin Snacks

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Diphallia (Levi has 2 pps), Dom!Leviathan x Fem!Reader, No prep (for 1 pp. He preps you for the second), Hair pulling, Teasing, Praise, Dub-con, Use of aphrodisiac

Enjoy.

You probably should've known better than to trust any snack Asmodeus gifted you. The mischievous smirk that was on his face was overlooked, as you figured that he was just being overly hyper and ecstatic; The usual Asmo.

Though, you probably should have expected that something was up when you took the first bite.

Asmodeus had given you a small pack of gummies, that of which were concealed in a bright pink plastic bag, and tied with a hot pink ribbon. You hadn't gotten the chance to try them the day he gave them to you, as you were quite busy. However, Leviathan would occasionally invite you to his room to play video games, and, during your sessions, there would usually be a lot of junk food and drinks for the two of you to consume. You figured that it'd be harmless to bring along the pack of gummies.

Your situation with Leviathan was always a bit confusing to you. You were convinced that you had a crush on him, and he'd invite you to hang out with him privately, but then he'd avoid you any other chance he got. While you'd concluded that it was most likely due to his introverted nature, it still hurt whenever he'd run away from you at RAD, or when he'd ignore you at the House of Lamentation. Then, he'd turn around and invite you to a marathon of watching anime, playing video games, and eating junk food all night.

It was all so confusing.

A part of you wished that something would happen. Something that would make his feelings for you more apparent.

_

"MC! I'm in the middle of grinding this tower, I need your help!" The Avatar of Envy spoke excitedly as you entered the room. "What's that?"

You looked down to where his line of sight ended, the pack of gummies in your hand being the captor of his attention. "Oh! I've got a little snack here," You say with a smile, closing the door behind you and walking over to the purple-haired demon. "I haven't had any yet. I figured that you'd like to try them with me while we play."

Leviathan's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief. "R-Really? You want m-me, a yucky otaku, t-to share your snack?" His voice quivered, and his gaze shifted downward, beginning to twiddle his thumbs. Noticing his self-deprecating tendencies through his body language, you deadpanned. "Levi," You said with a sigh. This immediately made him stop to look up at you, his amber eyes meeting yours. "Let's just play. I've been waiting to hang out with you all day, so spare me the 'yucky otaku' talk, okay?" You sat down beside him, offering a small smile as you opened the pack of gummies and set it on the floor between the two of you.

The demon beside you was silent for a moment, trying to process how comfortable you were sitting next to him, and how you wouldn't allow him to degrade himself any further. A small smile tugged at his lips, and he nodded. "Of course! Whatever my Henry wants!" He exclaimed excitedly, firmly holding his controller in his grip.

_

About an hour into the marathon, Leviathan started to feel an odd, tingling sensation in his body. He'd eaten twelve of the fifteen gummies, but it never occurred to him to correlate the snack with the feeling. You were unaware as well, having eaten three of them yourself.

However, you noticed how quickly he was dying in-game, as well as the dark blush that was forming on his face. There was an unfamiliar glint in his eyes, and a single bead of sweat trickled down the curve of his face. "Levi?" You called out softly, placing your hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Your voice.

It sounded so sweet, so pure, so alluring. It was proving increasingly difficult for him to stop thinking of you in positions he'd only seen in the middle of the night on a hentai website.

Your voice and your touch made a lethal combo. It would have surely killed him if he weren't immortal. He didn't have the high-level gear required to handle your oblivious actions that made him feel so hot.

"Leviathan!"

Levi flinched at the sound of your call, immediately snapping his head toward you. "Y-Yes?"

Your brows were furrowed with worry as you took in the expression that his face contorted into. You had seen him flustered and stuttering before, but that dark shadow in his half-lidded eyes was unfamiliar to you.

He looked hungry?

"Hey, what's up with you?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that he's suddenly thinking about you squirming and whimpering under him? In a quick attempt at saving face, he wracked his brain for an excuse. Anything that wouldn't make the situation worse. "N-N-Nothing! I'm j-just... cold!" After that statement, he wished that the Devildom could split open and swallow him whole.

Cold? That's the best he could come up with? He was sweating, yet the first thing he thought to say was that he felt cold?

"Very... Cold..." He paused. Now, he wasn't able to control his words, but he was very surprised at what he was saying. "Come here, MC,"

Seeing you furrow your brows in confusion, yet hesitantly crawl toward him obliviously made his throat constrict for a moment. As the heat that pooled in his gut grew worse, he found it difficult to breathe for a moment. Without thinking, he pulled you towards him, ass to crotch, in a warm embrace. Leviathan buried his nose into the flesh between your neck and shoulder, closing his eyes as a delightful shiver shot up his spine.

It wasn't until his tail brushed up against your thigh that you realized his demonic form was emerging. "Levi-" "Shhh," He hushed you softly, the sound of the controller falling to the ground acting as your final warning.

"I-I feel so..." Leviathan trailed off as he pushed his hips forward, his crotch grinding so deliciously against your rear. He hissed in pleasure, gripping your hips tightly. "I-I don't know w-what's wrong with me," He murmured as he tugged at your shirt, the fabric being pulled down just enough so that he could get a better view of your neck. As soon as he caught sight of your skin, smooth and unmarked, he attacked your neck with his mouth. Sucking and nibbling, he held onto you as you writhed and made the cutest of noises. "Levi," You whined softly as he started grinding against you once more.

That's when you felt the bulge in his pants. It was so huge. Was it natural for a demon to be this big? If it felt like that while confined in his pants, how would it feel if he...

You froze, vision blurry as Leviathan started to slide his hands up your body, your shirt being lifted slowly. "L-Levi, wait-" You were cut off by your own moan as he bucked his hips, that huge bulge now making contact with your clothed cunt. That's when the heat that you'd been ignoring for the past few minutes began to pool more noticeably. "Can't," He whined, finally pulling away from the patch on your neck, which was now coated in saliva and adorned with a bite mark. "Want you, MC."

Leviathan was very disappointed at the fact that you were wearing a bra, expressing his disappointment through a low growl and wrapping his tail tightly around your thigh. "S-Sorry, I can't-" He let out a soft moan as he ground his crotch against yours, causing jolts of pleasure to course through your veins.

Suddenly, you felt yourself being pushed to the ground, a fistful of your hair in his hand as he pinned you down. His tail kept your legs at a shoulder-length distance, and his free hand slid up your back to unclip your bra. "MC, I want you," He whimpered as he pushed his crotch against your rear again, the straps of your bra beginning to slide down your shoulders. "P-Please say you w-want me, too."

Hearing him plead wasn't exactly out of the ordinary for you, but to plead in such a lewd manner was so odd. Not in a bad way, that is. However, you found it nearly impossible for you to speak. For whatever reason, your brain started to become foggy, and had your arm not been there to brace you, you would have been drooling on the floor. "Levi," You whimpered softly, pulling your arms through the straps of your bra, and allowing him to slide the cups off of your chest and out from under your shirt. "Fuck, just take it off!" He raised his voice to a volume you'd almost never hear unless he was genuinely frustrated. Suddenly, your bare breasts spilled out into the chilly air of his room, the remnants of your shirt now below you in torn scraps. Levi hooked his fingers around the hem of your shorts, fiddling until he got hold of your panties as well, and yanked them down.

You let out a sharp gasp as your dripping cunt was hit by the cool air, the wetness making it feel a lot colder. Then, you heard a shuffle. His hands were pulled away from you, but his tail kept your legs spread in position. You lifted yourself up a little, now annoyed that he wasn't touching you. "Leviathan?" Suddenly, your head was pushed down against your arm. "Don't!" He yelped out.

That's when you felt it. Or, them.

At first, you thought you were just going crazy; That maybe it was the air or a piece of clothing pressing against your clit, but when you felt the tip of his cock against your entrance, you suddenly regained consciousness.

There were two. One of them pushed against your drooling cunt, and the other teased your clit. "I-I know it's a bit... Weird," He murmured among heavy pants. "I can't-" His cocks both twitched at the same time. "I want both of them in you," He growled out, clearly restraining himself from acting on what his body was screaming at him to do. "But I-I don't wanna hurt you, MC." His other hand was planted on the floor near your waist, the one in your hair keeping you from looking at him.

Leviathan didn't exactly look presentable at the moment. He was in his demon form, his face flushed a deep red, beads of sweat running down his body, and his cocks hard and weeping. "But-" His cock suddenly started pushing into you, the tip stretching the tight muscles of your cunt. "You'd... You'd still take me, right?" He asked through gritted teeth. You let out a soft mewl as he penetrated you, your walls welcoming his cock with a tight constriction. "Levi-!" You were cut off by a sudden buck of his hips, pushing more of his length inside of you. He shuddered at the warmth he so badly desired, his second manhood twitching against your lower abdomen. "You'd take all of me... Like a good girl... Right?" He moved his hand from your hair to your mouth as he buried himself inside your quivering cunt.

It felt like your breath was punched out of you. To be empty one moment, then feel so full the next, the stimulation of his manhoods along with his hands made your body shudder in ecstasy. His second cock pressed against your stomach, making your walls flutter against his length.

He started to slowly pull out of you, amber eyes shifting down to see how your fluids clung to his cock. This made him groan, his hands clenching your hips tightly, as he slammed himself back into you. Your body jolted, and you let out a high-pitched whine. "Just for me, right?" He asked, repeating his movements experimentally before his instincts took over, and he set a brutal pace.

Still somewhat conscious of your volume, you bit down on your arm to keep your sounds quiet and muffled. "You'll take it just for me. No one else." The way he said it made it sound more like a demand than anything. You'd hear him get possessive, and, as the Avatar of Envy, he was quick to get jealous, but this was different. There was also the fact that, when he would shove himself so deep in your cunt, the tip of his cock would nuzzle that sweet spot near your cervix. The stimulation was driving you crazy, and you could practically feel your brain getting foggy.

Leviathan was getting drunk off of the odd feeling in his gut paired with the warmth of your body. His heart was beating ten times as fast, and his thrusts were unrelenting. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin made his lower cock twitch against you. He stared down at your cunt, watching how it sucked him in deeper with each thrust, how the lips spread to accommodate his girth. He began to wonder just how much you could take. "You'll... Be a good girl for me, right?" He asked, voice now gentle as he moved his hand from your hair and trailed it down your back, making a shudder crawl up your spine.

His pace slowed, and he slowly dragged his fingertips down your thigh, before gently caressing where the two of you connected. Then, he slowly began to push his finger inside of you, the digit sandwiched between his cock and your walls. You shot up at the feeling, turning your head to look over your shoulder. Attempting to protest, you whined out his name, but you were promptly interrupted by his pace quickening. His finger started to thrust as well, and that's when you realized what he was trying to do.

"L-Levi, I won't be able t-to take both!" You mewled out between heavy pants and whines of pleasure. Tears were slipping down your rosy cheeks as you felt your cunt beginning to stretch even more.

One finger became two.

"Yes you can," Leviathan purred out softly, his tail slithering off of your thigh and up your abdomen, circling your breasts. "Because you're my good girl, aren't you?" The tip of his tail flicked one of your hardened nipples, making you, and your pussy, shudder.

Two became three.

It was a stinging sensation, but the stretch was just too delicious to despise. How your body was accepting his administrations without protest somehow managed to turn you on even more. The odd feeling in your gut, the lust that pooled in your cunt was driving you mad, making you intoxicated.

Intoxicated was an understatement for the third-born above you. The feeling that made his body sweat and his cock hard was making him wasted. Not being able to think straight, he wasn't exactly patient with the rest of the prep.

He'd made it to four fingers before he pulled out, his hand and his cock, and used both hands to stroke his two manhoods. You whined at the loss, but once you were flipped over, you could see the Avatar of Envy more clearly. Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, cocks rock hard and standing at attention, tail sliding off of you and swaying slowly behind him— much like a predator on the hunt—, and those eyes. They burned a dark orange, staring at you similarly to how the sixth born would stare down a Devil Cheeseburger.

You keened as the demon grabbed your hips, pulling you toward him. "I-I like you, MC!" He confessed, his hands sliding down toward your thighs and grabbing them firmly, a dark blush dusting over his face. "I like you a lot, okay? So..." He pushed your legs up a bit and spread them apart. "Take me like a good girl, okay? All of me."

Leviathan moved one of his hands down to take both of his cocks into his grip, hissing once both the tips made contact with your cunt. Rather than protest it any longer, you found yourself wanting to try. After a few moments of prodding, both tips of his cocks managed to push into your cunt. With an arch of your back and a cry of pleasure and pain, your legs spread a little wider, in hopes of reducing the sting of the stretch. The demon hushed you as he began to slowly sink in more of his lengths.

The demon threw his head back, his hands moving to grip your hips in an attempt to keep himself somewhat grounded. The way your pussy was constricting around him so tightly, the way your body was instinctively welcoming both of his cocks, as if you were made just for him.

"You're my Henry." He suddenly shoved himself all the way inside, one of his tips pushing against your cervix while the other nuzzled your G-spot. You pulled away from your saliva coated arm and squealed, nails digging into the tile floor. So full. You felt so fucking full. Full of him.

Levi stayed still for a moment, but then he started to thrust. His hips rocked, clapping against your ass and thighs. "M'gonna ruin you for everyone else," He continued grunting out, once more grabbing a fistful of your hair. He pulled you up this time, wrapping his free arm around your waist as he latched onto your shoulder.

He changed the position, sitting down with you in his lap, his hands sliding down your hips and spreading your thighs open. Your gaze immediately shifted downward, and you saw how his cocks went in and out of you. Leviathan pressed wet kisses up your neck, smirking as he saw you watching how you were being fucked. "I think you like that, don't you? You're so wet, MC." He moved his hand up your thigh before beginning to play with your clit. "I can go in and out so easily. Your body didn't even put up much of a fight."

Your face flushed a deep shade of red, and you nearly screamed when he pinched your clit at the same time he buried himself so deep inside of your little cunt. You leaned against him, arching your back and gripping his shoulders. "Leviathan!" You moaned out, only to be silenced with a passionate kiss.

Hungry, and obviously desperate, he started pounding into you. His cocks bullied your cervix and G-spot, one of his his hands trailed up your body to squeeze your breasts, and his tail wrapped around your thigh to keep you spread open for him. His rough fucking, along with the way he played with your breast and your clit, made your walls start to build up around him. You felt a different kind of pleasure, a different need filling your core.

The need to release.

You needed to cum, and with how he was handling you right now, you were definitely going to cum soon. You broke away from the kiss. "Levi! Levi- M-M'gonna-" You clenched your teeth and leaned your head against his shoulder, letting out loud mewls in pleasure.

Leviathan didn't respond, he only started going faster. Harder.

Then, you saw white. Your scream was muted as your senses shut down, your orgasm racking through your body in delicious waves of pleasure.

Levi grabbed onto your hips and pushed you down onto his cocks, keeping you in place as he came. Spurts of cum shot out, the duality causing your cunt to overflow.

As you came down from your high, you could faintly hear him whispering sweet nothings into your ear, all while gently nibbling on your jawline.

"You did so good for me," Levi whispered, slowly pulling out of you to see his fluids gush out of you. You flinched when one of his cocks rubbed against your folds, letting out a soft whine.

"But, MC, I'm not done. You'll let me play with you a little more, right, My Henry?"

Hope you liked it, Anon!

Masterlist

[strangersteddierthings]

Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

"Bad news first, Eddie," Steve sighs as he leans back on his heels, cleaner in one hand and a rag in the other. "They vandalized your headstone again. Good news, I beat Wayne out here so he won't be seeing it."

It's been over a year since they'd had to leave Eddie behind. He'd been cleared of the murders. That had been the easy part, since the Upside Down had exploded out into the Rightside Up. When Vecna started killing people it had been pretty easy for people to realize Eddie was just another victim.

Or so Steve had thought.

Eleven saved them all, the people of Hawkins knew the truth, yet Steve still found graffiti on Eddie's grave.

Eddie's grave is empty, because Eddie's body hadn't been recovered. Too much had happened, no time to mount an expedition to retrieve it, and the gates were closed. Another regret Steve lives with.

Like not taking Eddie's face between his hands and looking him dead in the eye when he told them not to be heroes.

Late at night, Steve sometimes imagines he did just that. Looked him dead in the eyes and said, "there is no shame in running, in living to see another day. Don't be a hero because I need you to be okay tomorrow."

Robin says it's not good for his mental health, these what-if scenarios, but so what?

Steve isn't sure what started it but coming out here to talk to Eddie seems to help him clear his thoughts. He always starts with the bad news, Eddie's voice in the back of his mind. Bad news first, always.

The first time Wayne had caught him out here, Wayne thought he was vandalizing. Had scared Steve half to death being yanked back violently by his upper arm. It didn't take Wayne long for his eyes to process that Steve wasn't holding paint.

"You know my boy?" Wayne always spoke in the present tense about Eddie.

"Not as well as I would have liked, sir," Steve swallowed thickly. It was the start of a friendship, of sorts. Wayne seemed happy to have someone to tell stories about Eddie to, and Steve was happy to learn about Eddie.

Months pass and Steve goes every week.

"Bad news. The new guitarist is mediocre at best. Good news. Corroded Coffin lives on and they finally got a new guitarist."

"Bad news. Robin will not shut up about Vickie. Good news. Robin got that date she wanted."

"Bad news. Wayne had an accident at the plant. Good news, he's okay. I think... this might be weird to you, but I've convinced him to move in, at least until he's healed fully so he's not alone. He's staying in the downstairs guest room. Not that you know where that is. You've never even been to my house... bad news, you've never been to my house. Good news, I really wish you had."

So it goes. Wayne Munson moves in and never moves out. Steve's parents call once, to ask if he wants the house. Steve says yes.

Shortly after, Robin takes a room upstairs. Says she gonna take a year off school before college. The Party moves their dnd games to Steve's giant dining room table. His house is always full but part of Steve feels empty.

"B-bad news," Steve forces the words out around the lump in his throat, "I found out too late. Good news, I'm bisexual. Bad news, good news? I don't know man, the news is I could have loved you. I think I do, but that's the you Wayne and the kids tell me about, so who is to say really."

So it goes.

"Bad news. They're seniors this year, Eds. Seniors! Robin going away to college was bad enough. I don't know if I'll even know how to function when they do. 'Cause they're gonna, you know? They're smart. Too smart to stay in this town," Steve is crying, can feel the tears falling, but doesn't stop them. "I know I should go, too. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. But I can't leave. Wayne's here. You're here. And if I go, who will look after either of you?"

"Bad news. College acceptance letters have come in. They're not even graduated yet. This should be good news, but, heh, friends don't lie."

"Bad news, Eds. I can't remember your voice. I didn't think.... I feel like I remember it but I can't hear it. I want to hear it. I-i need-" Steve doesn't know what he needs, doesn't know how to end that sentence so he just sobs, fingers burying themselves into the dirt of an empty grave.

Wayne gets a phone call one day and says he's gotta go back to Tennessee. Eddie's father -that rocks Steve because while he knows Wayne was Eddie's uncle, he never connected that a father was somewhere out there- Eddie's father, Wayne's younger brother, needs him.

Steve drives Wayne to the airport in Indianapolis. Wayne promises he'll return but Steve won't hold him to that. This is family, and as much as Steve pretends, he isn't Wayne's nephew. Isn't Wayne's family.

As Wayne disappears onto his flight, Steve is left hollow. There's no one left in Hawkins that needs him.

"Bad news, Eds. I think I'm a danger to myself. I keep having these thoughts... like how easy it would be to drive my car into the quarry. Or just slip into the pool and take a deep breath. I don't know who I am, or how to be me, without someone needing me."

Wayne calls and tells him he's coming home. Bringing a guest if that's ok. Steve says okay because he needs to meet the man who taught Eddie how to hot wire a car but not play catch. Also, he hopes to hear Eddie in his voice when they speak.

"Bad news, Eds. I'm too much of a coward to meet your old man. Afraid of what he'll sound like. Because I want him to sound like you so fucking bad it hurts. So instead of being home, I'm hiding here."

And then, a miracle happens.

"Well, I've some bad news for you, too, Stevie. I got my voice from my mom."

[thatbloodymuggle]

MASTERMIND (iii)

THREE - COLOR THEORY

SUMMARY: A child of light and dark, you are the Night Court’s best kept secret. After decades spent in hiding, you yearn to stretch your wings. But you quickly learn that freedom comes with a price, as you find yourself trying to outfox the fox in his own den.

PAIRING: eris vanserra x reader

WORD COUNT: 11.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: language, descriptions of violence, smut, oral (m receiving), thigh humping, fingering

You have always wondered if being born from Light and Dark was a blessing, or a curse. On one hand, it has granted you the ability to navigate life’s morally gray areas; to question everything and listen to opposing thoughts and ideologies. But on the other hand, your existence was born from a violent affair—and you can’t help but wonder if that Dark inevitably lives within you, shielded by the Light. 

Right now, more than ever, you believe the latter may be true. 

It’s been three days. Three days since you woke up to an empty bed beneath you and guilt weighing heavy atop. Three days since you self-sabotaged your entire mission. Three days since you reveled in the comfort of your enemy’s arms.

You thought the regret would be at its worst the morning after; you figured it would pass with time. But with each day, each hour, each minute that ticks by, breathing becomes just a little bit harder. You can’t even find peace in sleep; not when you are kept awake by images of Eris’s lust-filled gaze and the inevitable heartbreak on Mor’s face. If your own self-stirred panic isn’t enough, you also have the note that Eris left atop his empty pillow to worry about:

I apologize for leaving so soon, Little Bird, but I have some business to attend to. Do write back when you’d like to take a tour of the library. Don’t miss me too much.

The bastard left the proverbial ball in your court. Typically, you like being in control. But with your current frenzied mental state, the last thing you need is yet another convoluted layer to worry about.

Needless to say, you are about one misstep from exploding.

The crackling embers of the fireplace in your cabin stare back at you tauntingly. You hover your hands over the orange flames, letting the heat tickle your skin until the burning becomes too much, and you are forced to pull away. You wait a beat, before raising your shaky hands over the fire once again. Albeit brief, the pain seems to be the only escape from the assault of your traitorous thoughts. Yet, with each retreat of your hands, the empty paper and pen sitting on your bedside table glare at you expectantly. They seem to radiate a cruel impatience—as if Eris is slinking in the shadows, watching you.

Your hands begin to burn again, and you abruptly pull them away. Before you can raise them over the flames once again, you feel the scraping of talons against the cobblestone barrier of your mind.

You want nothing less than to talk to Rhys right now. But you know that if you leave him hanging, he will worry. Reluctantly, you let your walls crumble down, and a shiver runs up your spine as you feel his aura creep in.

Everything okay? His voice sings across your mental connection.

You gnaw on your bottom lip until you wince, swiping your tongue across the droplet of blood.

I don’t know, you relent.

He doesn’t respond immediately. But you can picture the cinch between his brows as he mulls over your answer. Be honest with me. I won’t share with the others, if you don’t want me to. Promise.

Your fingers dance over the flames once more. You can’t possibly divulge what has transpired thus far. But you certainly can’t hold it all in without going mad. The fire burns your skin, and you jolt back before responding.

Promise?

He replies instantly, Yes.

You start talking before you can convince yourself otherwise. I think I may be getting a little too close.

Your response is simple, straight to the point. But something about it feels…heavy. 

What do you mean ‘too close’?

You’re careful not to let your thoughts, your memories of what happened in that cottage, to breach your mental connection with Rhys. You stare into the orange flames, admiring how intertwine, before replying.

The ‘seduction from afar’ plan may need to be revised. I’m in too deep to keep my distance for three weeks.

Your heart thumps in your chest as you wait for his response. You subconsciously twirl the silver ring on your thumb, never peeling your eyes away from the blazing fire. Rhys doesn’t say anything for a while. Just as fear begins to creep in, his voice sounds through your mind.

That’s fine. You jolt at his response, and he continues. Between you and me, I don’t care what you have to do. Make him fall in love with you, break his heart, it doesn’t matter. Once you’re out of there, you’ll never have to see him again.

You physically flinch as the reality of your situation hits you like a truck. Three weeks, and you’ll never see him again. Three weeks, and it’ll all be done—there will be no witness to whatever fling you have, no one left to tell the tale. No one ever has to know. Mor never has to know.

Okay, you finally respond simply.

Just tread carefully, you can hear the strain in his voice.

You nod robotically, even though he can’t see you. With a quick farewell, you put up your mental barriers. You stare into the flames for a few minutes longer, until the mere sight burns your irises.

“Compartmentalization,” you mumble to no one in particular.

Finally, you peel yourself off the dust-covered floor in front of the fire. Your legs are wobbly as you take methodical steps towards your bedside table. The empty paper and pen are quivering in anticipation as you approach. Your hand moves with a mind of its own as you pick up the waiting pen and scribble onto the paper.

Does the offer still stand?

The second you set the pen back down onto the table, the paper vanishes into thin air from your fingertips. You wring your hands together as you sit down on the side of your bed and wait. You’re not sure what you’re waiting for exactly, but you wait. 

“Compartmentalization,” you say it again. And you say it a few more times. Enough to trick your mind into believing it and slow the frantic beat of your heart. Enough to don a mask of apathy as a crack sounds outside the front door followed by a sharp knock. 

You twist the silver ring around your thumb once more before standing, this time on steady legs. Your steps are calm and calculated as you tread towards the door. You take one last deep breath, ridding your body and mind of any residual apprehension. With your lips curled into a beguiling grin, you swing the door open.

Eris’s smile is almost as wicked as yours as he scans you from head to toe, drinking in your appearance.

“I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Little Bird,” he smirks.

You pick at your nails nonchalantly, “I’m flattered I’ve been on your mind, but I’m not sure I can say the same.”

His vicious grin only widens, “You wound me, Birdie. But I must admit,” he dips down and lowers his voice to a whisper, “I quite like your bite today.”

You arch a brow and don’t so much as flinch at his proximity, “Are you a masochist, Eris Vanserra? Or does chasing after disinterested females turn you on?”

Your thinly veiled insult only eggs him on. It takes everything in you not to shrink back as he lowers his lips so they graze the shell of your ear.

“Are you sure you want to go down this road? Because last I remembered, you were a whimpering little mess—”

His sentence is abruptly halted by your fingers pinching his lips shut. His eyes widen in incredulity at your childish action, and a giggle bubbles in your throat at the sight. You release him and walk briskly past, leaving him dumbfounded behind you.

“Well, are we going or not?” you snark over your shoulder.

He falls into step beside you, and you jolt as he places his hand on the small of your back. His touch gentle, but commanding. You don’t dare look at him as he warns, “I’ll let this one slide, Little Bird. But don’t forget that my teeth are much sharper than yours,” he wraps his arm tightly around your waist, “And I’m not afraid to use them.”

Your rebuttal is cut short as he pulls you to his chest before winnowing you both out of the woods.

The Forest House is just as remarkable as you remembered it—even more so in the sunlight. The tangles of ivy enveloping the red-brick walls are a vibrant green, and the intricate details of the gate itself seem to glisten underneath the sun’s rays. However, unlike your last visit, this time sentries line nearly every inch of the expansive walls. Their taut faces and intimidating steeds exude a sense of savagery that makes your skin prickle.

Eris’s hand retreats to its spot on the small of your back, and you jump slightly as you are reminded of your purpose for being here. Reluctantly, you peel your eyes away from the curvature of the golden gates and cock your head towards his. The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement, and you can tell he’s holding back a comment from the twitch in his lips.

“Spit it out,” you feign annoyance.

He shakes his head with an airy laugh, “It’s nothing. I just like the way you look at the world—all wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, like you’re experiencing life for the first time. It’s cute.”

You frown. 

His comment, while innocent, puts you on edge for two reasons. The first, and the one that really makes your skin crawl, is his incessant ability to unknowingly point out parts of yourself that belong to you, rather than Athena Ellesmere. With each destination he takes you to, you do feel like you’re experiencing the world for the first time. But that’s not Athena—and with each of your quirks he reveals, he’s one step closer to sniffing you out entirely.

The second, well…

“Cute?” you deadpan.

His teeth flash as his grin widens, “Cute.”

You’re not cute. You’re supposed to be sexy, confident, untouchable—a femme fatale. Not fucking cute.

You know your bubbling frustration is futile, so you simply narrow your eyes into a warning glare and march towards the golden gates. You know that the pout on your face isn’t helping your case—but you can’t seem to wipe it off. The sentries shift on their steeds as you approach but return to their stationed positions when Eris falls into step beside you. They don’t so much as look in your direction as you pass through the gates.

“Once you are formally welcomed inside the gates, you are free to come and go as you please,” Eris’s fingers brush yours as he speaks, “So if you are in further need of the library after today, you can return.”

Your ears perk up at this, but you nod coolly. He leads you around the side of the large mansion, away from the front door, and lowers his voice to a murmur, “But I would prefer if you’d let me accompany you, if you should visit again.”

“Why? Want me all to yourself?” you snort.

He wears a playful grin, but his eyes are vapid.

“You know I do,” he teases, “But the beauty of this place is deceptive. Darkness lurks behind these walls, Little Bird.”

A shiver crawls up your spine, but you swiftly retort, “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“I know,” his voice is thick with trepidation.

You bristle at the way he speaks about you like he knows you. Yet again.

His hand returns to the small of your back as he leads you towards a small door, almost completely covered by thick ropes of vine. If he wasn’t guiding you, you would’ve completely missed the hidden entrance. You suck in a breath in anticipation as he pushes it open, wood creaking against rusted hinges. You hide your curiosity as you take in the burgundy carpet lining a hallway so long, you can’t see its end. The walls are built of centuries-old limestone, the darkness illuminated by flame torches.

You peel your eyes away from the hallway as Eris leads you to the left, down a steep, spiral staircase. Just like the hallway, it is built entirely of dark stone which holds a red hue thanks to the flickering flames of torches lining the walls. He steps in front of you, and you follow his lead silently as he leads you down the stairs. The steep wind of the steps is dizzying as you descend downwards, deep into the ground below, and into the heart of the tunnels of the Forest House. With each floor you pass, you picture Azriel’s map of the house. Finally, Eris takes a turn at the ninth floor you’ve descended. You follow closely behind and note the change in architecture. Gone are the limestone walls, and in their place, deep mahogany wood lined with a variety of paintings: family portraits, Autumn Court landscapes, still life’s. This hallway is also dimly lit with torches, but it holds a peculiar warmth unlike the others.

“How big is this place?” you voice echoes down the expansive hallway.

You know exactly how big it is. But you can’t stand the eerie silence. 

Eris’s voice rumbles lowly, “Miles long. It would take you half the morning to walk from one end to the other.”

Your eyes widen in mock astonishment—as if you don’t know that it is exactly 4.2 miles long.

“And you don’t get lost?” you ask.

“You forget I’ve had centuries of practice, darling,” he chuckles.

You open your mouth to fire another question, but a squeal escapes instead as you feel something wet bump against your right hand. You snatch your hand to your chest and look down to find a pair of beady, vermillion eyes staring back at you. You instinctively inch closer to Eris as you stare down at the creature in awe.

You know what smokehounds are. And you know that Eris owns a whopping twelve. But you weren’t quite prepared for the predator standing before you. Its fur is gray and sleek like smoke, and its eyes are the color of blood. Your initial fear fades as you realize, despite their crimson hue, its eyes are not filled with malice—but rather, curiosity. You cautiously lower the hand clutched to your chest back to your side, and slowly stretch your fingers apart. Its wet nose bumps your hand again, and you shiver at the tickling sensation as it sniffs you. A giggle bubbles in your throat as it sticks its tongue out and licks between your fingers. You tentatively stroke the side of its face with your knuckles.

“She likes you,” Eris hums beside you.

The smokehound nuzzles into your side, and you stroke the top of her head with your full hand. You know they are vicious creatures—you’ve read about how they can race as fast as the wind to sniff out any prey. But the creature standing below you seems as harmless as a fly.

“What’s her name?” you ask as you scratch softly between her ears. 

“Sage. She’s my oldest,” his hand joins yours as he strokes the back of her neck.

“I never pictured smokehounds to be so…affectionate,” you wonder aloud, curiosity piqued as she licks your hand again.

Eris laughs softly, “They aren’t. She must be drawn to you—the same way I am.”

You can feel his gaze on you but refuse to look in his direction as you fight the blush crawling up your neck. He withdraws his hand, and you follow suit as you continue your walk down the hallway, this time with Sage by your side. She trots beside you, close enough that your fingertips brush the silken fur on her back and her side rubs against your dress. Even as you continue down the dimly lit hallway, you can’t take your eyes off the elegant creature walking alongside you.

You nearly slam into Eris as he halts abruptly in front of two large oak doors. Just as you regain your footing, you nearly lose it again at the sight before you.

There are seemingly endless rows of books reaching at least fifty feet tall. An ornate rug of red and gold covers the stone floor, and hundreds of flickering candles are suspended in midair. Vibrant green ivy, much like the kind you’ve seen outside, wraps around each shelf. To top it all off, the ceiling is a mosaic of crystalline windows shining golden rays of sunlight down below—some kind of enchantment, you presume, given that you are at nine floors underground.

“Wow,” you breathe. With your mouth agape and your eyes wide with wonder, you know that you are proving Eris’s earlier point. But right now, you couldn’t care less. 

You wander towards the shelves, Sage trailing behind you, and run your fingers gently along the spines of the books. The smell of parchment and wood is intoxicating, and your heart swells with joy as you scan the collection of classics. Some are so old; you presume they must be original prints. Others look brand new, completely untouched. 

One binding in particular catches you attention—well, ‘binding’ is generous, considering the book is barely hanging together by a thread. You carefully pull out the amethyst-colored cover and turn it over. Shattered Realms. 

“Is this an original copy?” you question, unable to peel your eyes away from the novel.

Eris looks over your shoulder, “Yes. It’s been passed down in my family for generations—although it originally belonged to the Night Court.”

Your lips twitch with amusement, but you force down a laugh at the irony. You glance at him over your shoulder, “How did it end up here?”

He takes a step closer to you, his chest inches away from pressing up against your back, and runs a finger over the binding of the book in your hands. His scent of sandalwood and nutmeg invades your senses.

“Many centuries ago, my grandfather was in a bit of a tiff with the Night Court High Lord at the time. He stole it during their feud.”

You smile softly and make a mental note to retrieve the book before you return to Velaris as a little souvenir for Rhys. You carefully place the book back in its spot before continuing your exploration. Eris follows closely behind, whereas Sage has found comfort in front of the fireplace. 

“Do you have any favorites?” you wonder aloud as you come to the end of the aisle.

“I have many,” his hand brushes yours.

You hook your pinky finger over his, “Care to share?”

“Any particular genre you’re interested in?” he curls his finger against yours.

You bite your bottom lip in thought as you mull over the options. Asking you to pick a favorite genre is like asking a mother to pick her favorite child. 

“I’ve recently been on a bit of a reading kick of philosophical essays,” you tap a finger to your chin in thought, “Mind-body dualism, introspection, all the good stuff,” you drawl.

Eris’s brows raise in surprise, “I never would’ve thought that philosophy pairs well with filthy little romance novels.”

Your eyes narrow into a glare, and you move to snatch your pinky away from his, but he swiftly intertwines your fingers. He’s dragging you down the aisle before you can protest, and you stumble to keep up with his swift feet. Eris leads you past rows of bookshelves, up a spiral staircase, and past even more rows of books. He doesn’t give you a chance to admire the collection of literature as he tugs you along. Finally, you halt at a small alcove decorated with stained glass windows.

Your eyes widen as you take in the collection of books written by countless ancient philosophers. But you force on a façade of indifference, careful not to fuel his already bursting ego even more. You hold your breath as he leans over you and pulls a book at least six inches out of your reach. The binding is tattered—not as badly as the original copy of Shattered Realms, but enough that you can tell it’s at least a few centuries old. He holds it out expectantly, and you tentatively grab it from his waiting hands. 

“I think you might find this to your liking,” he grins, “A collection of Tydeus’s correspondences with Lady Baldwin. It’s not an original copy, but surely the closest to it.”

He releases your other hand, and you clench your jaw to conceal your excitement. You’ve been searching for a copy of this for years now—ever since you stumbled across the collection of the ancient philosopher Tydeus’s works in the Velaris library. Your mother used to love reading the copy of his correspondences in the Day Court libraries, but that feels like a lifetime ago now.

“Tydeus’s ideologies are a bit archaic for my taste. But I suppose this will do,” you lie through your teeth. Eris chuckles lightly, observing the curious glint in your eyes and the way you hold the book with a delicate reverence.  

“There are wards around the house which prevent these books from leaving the premises, so unfortunately, I cannot loan it to you. And given your past thieving tendencies, I’m not sure I would want to,” he teases as he leans against the shelve of books.

Well, there goes Rhys’s solstice gift.

Your lips dip into a frown, “I know Vanserras are cruel, but I never imagined you’d be this twisted—dangling one-of-a-kind copies of ancient literature over my head only to pull them away.”

“Don’t fret, Little Bird,” he purrs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “You can read to your heart’s desire—inside the house, of course. I’ll show you to a place with a bit more…privacy.”

You gulp as his fingers linger against your cheekbone. His touch is electrifying, and you fight the instinct to chase after it as he pulls away.

“Okay,” you whisper, “Is it alright if I pick out a few more?”

His teeth flash as he observes the effect he has over you.

“Take your time. I’ll be keeping Sage company.”

He brushes past you, and you remain frozen in place for a moment. Get it together, you scold yourself internally. You will your mind to empty as you continue your stroll down hundreds of rows of books. You try your very best not to pick up everything that catches your eye—only those which really pique your interest. But even so, you quickly find yourself with a stack of books so high they nearly reach your chin. Your arms tremble underneath the weight, but still, you add a couple of atlases to your stack for good measure. You have no intention of reading them—but Athena Ellesmere would. 

Finally satisfied with your collection, you walk slowly back towards the front of the library. You rest your chin on the top of the stack, careful not to topple the tower of books. The winding staircase proves to be a challenge, and you nearly stumble twice. But by some miracle, you make it down unscathed, and approach the blazing fireplace.

Eris lounges on a couch with Sage on the ground beneath him. He scratches her ears nonchalantly as he flips through his own book. His neck cranes at the sound of your uneven footsteps, and a roaring laugh fills the room when he lays eyes on you.

It’s a sight he wishes will be forever imprinted in his memory—your arms wobbling underneath a stack of books nearly as tall as you, and your flushed cheeks peeking out on top.

“Some help would be appreciated,” you hiss.

He sets his book down and glides over, taking half the stack from your arms. You nearly moan in relief at the literal weight lifted off your shoulders. 

“A few more, huh?” he taunts with a wily smirk.

“A few means a small number. Comparative to your collection, yes. A few,” you grit your teeth.

“Whatever you say, Little Bird. Although I except a thorough review of each,” he sings.

Eris balances his half of the stack in one arm and wraps his other around your waist, pulling you tight to his chest. You save your own stack from nearly tipping over with a stumble. You aren’t afforded a chance to protest as he winnows you both away, leaving Sage sleeping peacefully in front of the fire.   

This time, you aren’t able to save the stack from spilling out of your arms as you land in a new room. Much to your displeasure, Eris’s pile of books is fully intact in his arms. You drop to your knees with a huff and begin collecting the books strewn about a patterned, crimson carpet.

“You’re a clumsy one, aren’t you?” he taunts from above you.

Your head snaps upwards and you open your mouth to retort but pause as you take in the new surroundings. Much like the library, this room holds a golden glow highlighted by swirling patterns of golds and reds along the walls. You can feel another fire blazing behind you, and just past the deep-seated sofa in front of you lies an enormous canopy bed. It suddenly clicks—you are in Eris’s private chambers. 

You cock a brow at the sight and a smirk tugs at your lips, “You know, if you wanted to get me in your bed all you had to do was ask.”

He sets down his stack of books on a small, wooden table in front of the couch and reaches a hand down to you expectantly. You tentatively place your hand in his, and he raises you up from the ground, pulling you to his chest with a sultry smile. 

“Is that an offer, darling?” his breath tickles your neck as he dips down to your ear.

Your cheeks flush as he caresses your jawline with his thumb. You clench your thighs as you are reminded of how his fingers felt inside you, dripping in your arousal. But before you can melt into his touch, you raise your lips to his ear and croon, “I’m not that easy. You’ll have to work harder than that, Fox.”

He presses his nose against your temple and groans, the vibration of it sending a tantalizing chill up your spine. Just as easily as he’s able to get you flustered, so are you able to drive him up the wall. 

You pull away from him, ignoring his whine of protest. He is absolutely shameless in his desire for you, and the thought alone makes your gut churn with delight.

You gather your stack of books from the ground and carefully place them beside the other half on the wooden table. You sift through the titles before finally settling on the Tydeus copy Eris recommended. You don’t so much as glance in his direction as you take a seat on the couch and kick off your heavy boots. The fire is just close enough that the flames warm your skin, and you all but sink into its comfort. You can feel Eris’s eyes on you, but you continue to ignore him as you stretch your legs out across the velvet expanse and open the ancient book. You aren’t even through the first page when you feel Eris’s hands on your calves.

You squeal as he raises your legs, giving himself space to sit beside you, before lowering them again so they are draped over his lap. You glare at him over your book, but he ignores your malice as he leans forward and picks his own book from the pile on the table. He leans back in his seat, his legs spread beneath yours, as he opens the book—a rare biography of one of the original Valkyries. Your own book sits limply in your hands as you study his profile—the plump of his lips, the shift of his jaw. You can’t help but admire the freckles dusted across the bridge of his nose. He is incredibly handsome, which simultaneously makes your job easier, and all the more difficult.

“I know I’m gorgeous but try not to drool on my centuries-old book,” he hums nonchalantly, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

You raise your leg to kick him, but he firmly grips your ankle and sets it back onto his lap without so much as a glance in your direction. He doesn’t remove his hand, letting it rest on your leg. With a huff, you return to your book. You are halted, once again, this time by his wandering hand. He teasingly pushes up the skirt of your long dress, just below your knees, so he can rest his hand on your shin. Your breath hitches as he rubs circles into your calf with his thumb, massaging it gently.

Reluctantly, you succumb to the comfort of his touch and return to your book once more. You page through Tydeus’s correspondences with Lady Baldwin. Their letters begin simply enough. But you quickly find yourself immersed in their debate over morality. Whereas the Lady takes a relative stance, Tydeus takes on an absolutist one. As their back-and-forth shifts to the dichotomy of good and evil, you are eerily reminded of your own inner turmoil earlier that morning.

“Anything good so far?” you jump as Eris’s gravelly voice cuts through the comfortable silence.

You meet his inquisitive gaze and note how the flame of the fire reflects in the amber of his eyes.

“My mother would have loved this,” you reply.

She did love it. You remember how she used to read it constantly in the Day Court—you never thought you’d be able to get your hands on a copy of it again. 

“Why is that?” he asks, curiosity laced in his tone.

You lower the book onto your lap, “She loved all of Tydeus’s works. She was a strong believer in the dichotomous division between ‘good’ and ‘evil’.”

Eris sets his own book down and rubs your leg with both of his hands. 

“And what do you think?” he challenges thoughtfully.

You shrug, “I’m not sure. On the one hand, I think morality is relative—that individuals are not uniform, and thus form their own ideas about what is ‘good’ and what is ‘evil’. But then on the other, I used to believe that there are some things we universally categorize as one or the other.”

“You don’t anymore?” he counters

You bite your lip and avert your gaze to the fire. The anxiety you managed to dispel earlier that day starts creeping in. Your gut twists uncomfortably as you reply simply, “I’m not sure.”

His hands slow, noticing your shift in demeanor. He studies the furrow of your brows as you stare into the fire.

“I think it is not morality that dominates the situation, but the situation that dominates morality,” he counters after a few beats of silence.

“A moral relativist?”

“I don’t like labels,” he shrugs.

The vibrancy of the fire is burning your eyes, but you keep them trained on the flames as you reply, “I suppose I agree with that—the problem is, it’s not the answer I’m seeking.”

“And what answer are you seeking?”

You long to reach your hands out over the flames until the heat sears your skin. The déjà vu makes your stomach churn.

“It’s not so much an answer as a direction,” you speak softly to hide the quiver of your voice, “I wish there was some way to know if I’m moving in the right direction.”

He chuckles, “Which brings us back to the question of absolutism versus relativism.”

You peel your eyes away from the flame, and your eyes lock with his. They hold a certain understanding, as if he can see straight through you and into your soul. Your body moves with a mind of its own as you sit up and subconsciously inch closer.

 “I suppose all we can really do is justify our actions for ourselves—and hope that others will agree with our division of morality,” you whisper.

His gaze darkens, and he bows his head towards you, “I think life is full of gray areas, and we can’t be faulted for how we choose to navigate them.”

His response strikes a chord deep within you. Your eyes flick down to his pink lips, just inches away from yours.

Compartmentalization be damned.

You lurch forward to close the gap, and he meets you halfway. 

The moment your lips meet his, every ounce of worry is swept away from your mind. You barely register the thump of your book hitting the ground as his lips glide against yours. His taste is addictive—a sweet peppermint that you can’t seem to get enough of. Your nose bumps against his as you climb on top of him, your legs straddling his lap. You cup the side of his face with your hands, deepening the kiss. He grips the small of your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip: a question. Your mouth parts: an answer. 

You snake one hand behind his neck and run your fingers through his crimson locks, tugging sharply. He groans, and just as he moves to deepen the kiss, you abruptly pull away.

His sounds of protest are silenced by your lips against the sensitive skin of his neck. You move tentatively at first, remembering how it felt to have his lips against your neck, and mimic his maneuvers. He tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of your neck, pushing you closer as a sign of encouragement. You become bolder, alternating between open-mouthed kisses, small nips, and swipes of your tongue. His groan of approval spurs you on, and you fiddle with the bottom of his tunic, pulling it up his chest. You draw back briefly to peel the shirt completely off his body before resuming your work.

“Who taught you how to do that?” Eris hisses as you suck harshly at the apex of his collarbone. 

  You grin at the blossoming purple hue on his pale skin and run your tongue over the spot soothingly, “A wily fox too clever for his own good.”

He pulls you back up, abruptly cutting your abuse of his neck short. You eagerly smash your lips against his once more and trail your hands down the expanse of his chest, dragging your nails lightly along his rigid abdomen. His hands loop around you and he swiftly yanks down the zipper of your dress. You eagerly shed the suffocating material, so it pools at your waist, exposing your bare chest to him. Eris moans at the sight of your peaked nipples and doesn’t hesitate to massage your breasts with his large hands. His lips trail down your neck, but before he has a chance to carry out the same treatment you’d given him, you slip from his grasp entirely.

Eris watches, stunned, as you slip off his lap and sink down onto your knees before him. His lips part as you nudge his knees apart, and lurch forward to trail open-mouthed kisses down his chest, to his abdomen, until you finally reach the waistband of his bottoms. He jolts as you brush your hand over the very obvious, and large, tent in his pants.

“Little Bird,” he mumbles as you palm over him, “You don’t have to do this.”

Your eyes flick up to his and you speak with conviction, “I want to.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps and you all but drool at the sight. He nods once, and you begin fiddling with his belt buckle. His hands move to help you, but you swat them away. You make quick work of the fastenings, and slowly drag the material down his legs, inch by inch. You know he’s growing impatient by the clenching of his abdomen. You flash him a sultry smile as you finally pull the material from his legs, leaving him in his underwear. His hands move to the waistband, but you swat them away again. 

 “Patience is a virtue,” you muse before nipping the skin of his inner thigh. He inhales sharply, and shudders as you run your tongue over the same spot, soothing the ache.

“Using my own moves against me,” he croons, but the strain is evident in his voice, “I’m impressed, Little Bird.”

Your heart thumps in your chest as you graze your hands along the waistband of his underwear. You dip your fingers underneath, and your confidence falters slightly. He runs a hand through your hair soothingly, coaxing you to continue. Your keep your eyes trained on his as you inch the fabric down his thighs. He raises his hips and releases a sigh of relief as his erection slaps up against his stomach, free from the confining material. You toss the garment aside haphazardly and take in the sight of his complete bareness.

The first thing you notice is that he’s big—well, you think so, at least, considering you have nothing to compare him to. His dick is much thicker than you’d imagined, with veins branching upwards towards the tip which is a shade darker than the pink of his lips. You can’t help but wonder how it could possibly fit inside you. A blush paints the apples of your cheeks at the thought.

Eris notices your apprehension, and he curls a finger underneath your chin so your eyes meet his. 

“Would you like me to talk you through it?” his voice is soft.

The amber of his eyes is warm, like honey. You nod shyly.

“Okay, darling. Can you wrap your hand around my cock?” the sweetness of his voice is a stark contrast to the dirtiness of the words tumbling from his lips. 

You rest your left hand on his thigh and raise your right hand, delicately wrapping your fingers around his girth at its base. You hold him loosely, and he releases a pleasured sigh at your tentative touch. 

“You can hold it a bit tighter, love,” he hums while stroking the shell of your ear.

You follow his direction with a nod.

“Now move your hand—”

You don’t give him a chance to finish as you slowly begin moving your hand over his cock, from the base to the tip. His lips part and he shudders at the motion.

“Good,” he rasps, “Now can you spit on it? Get it a little wet for me?”

Your cheeks flare, but you follow his request. You timidly lean forward and dribble over his tip, captivated by the way it mixes with the bead of precum before sliding down. You use your hand to spread it around, and the friction eases as your hand slides more freely. 

“I think you’re a natural, Birdie,” he praises through a gasp, “Can you twist your hand for me a bit?”

You twist your hand in time with your strokes, and admire the way his face scrunches with pleasure. You squeeze a bit harder when you reach his base, and his hips twitch. Testing the waters, you slowly lean forward and stick your tongue out, licking over his tip. Eris grunts at the action, and you feel a bit more confident as you wrap your lips completely around the head. 

A guttural moan escapes his lips as you suckle on the head, your hand continuously pumping his shaft. You pull off his tip, and your gut twists with desire at the string of saliva between the head of his cock and your lips. You lurch forward, flattening your tongue against the base and dragging it upwards, before wrapping your lips around the tip again in a teasing maneuver.  

“Fuck,” he groans, “Can you take me a bit deeper?”

You nod, pupils blown. Your hand resumes its stroking movement as you slowly, tentatively, slide downwards. Your mouth burns from the stretch of his girth, but you breathe through your nose steadily. You take him in, inch by inch, until his tip hits the back of your throat, bringing tears to the corners of your eyes. You keep your hand around the base of his shaft, pumping and twisting the length you can’t fit.

“So good for me, Little Bird,” he moans. His right-hand digs into the fabric of the couch until his knuckles turn white, and his left brushes the hair out of your face. “Can you move your pretty little mouth for me?”

You slowly bob your head up and down, timing the strokes of your hand with the rise and fall of your lips. Tears spring to your eyes each time his tip hits the back of your throat and spit dribbles down the sides of your mouth, but any ounce of insecurity is washed away by the sinful noises tumbling from Eris’s lips.

“Can you use your tongue for me?” his voice is strained.

You flatten your tongue against his length as you bob up and down, swirling it around his length to the best of your ability.

“Look at me, love,” he gasps through an animalistic groan.

Your eyes flick up and you peer at him through your lashes. His pupils are blown and his lips parted, brows scrunched with a vulnerability you never imagined you’d see.

“You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock,” he rasps, “Wish I could keep you like this forever.”

You hum around him, and he shudders at the vibration. He tangles a hand in your hair, guiding your movements but not pushing you, slowly increasing your pace. Tears begin rolling down your cheeks at the delicious burn in your jaw and the back of your throat.

His chest heaves as he pants, “So close. Just a little more.”

You move with a newfound vigor at his words, finding a rhythm that keeps the noises tumbling from his mouth. You raise your unoccupied hand to the base of his cock. Experimentally, you brush over his balls with your thumb, eliciting raucous moan from Eris. He twitches in your mouth, and you do it again while swirling your tongue in a prolonged sweeping motion around his length.

“Fuck, Little Bird. I’m—”

He halts midsentence with an earth-shattering groan as his cock twitches violently in your mouth. You slow your movements as he reaches his high, thick ropes of cum painting the back of your throat. You splutter at the feeling, but continue milking him, swallowing his load. You stroke him gently, your tongue rubbing along him in a coaxing manner, until his thighs jerk, and his length softens in your mouth. You inch off him, stroking a hand over his thigh soothingly, and press one last kiss to his tip before pulling off completely.

You glance shyly up at Eris, and your chest swells with pride as you find his head thrown back in pure bliss. You rake your nails softly against his thighs, peppering feather-like kisses over his abdomen. His head lulls down towards you, and your heart skips a beat at the carnal look in his eyes. His hands are gentle as he wipes away the tears staining your cheeks before swiping over your mouth, collecting the saliva staining your lips. 

“You are an enigma, Little Bird,” he mumbles while intertwining your hands with his and pulling you back up. 

Your dress falls from your waist to the floor as you rise, leaving you completely bare aside from your panties. He pulls you onto his lap and you eagerly straddle him, connecting your lips to his. He groans into your mouth at the taste of his own release on your lips.

“Good?” you breathlessly ask against his mouth.

He pulls away from your lips with a chuckle and trails kisses underneath your ear as he mutters, “I haven’t finished so quickly in centuries.”

Your eyes crinkle with pride.

His lips meet yours once again, and you marvel at the way you slot together like the final two pieces of a puzzle. Mimicking his earlier move, you run your tongue along his bottom lip and he grants you entry, allowing you to deepen the kiss. His hands run down the curve of your back before settling on your ass, exploring your soft skin. Your gut clenches at the arousal pooling in your panties.

“Would you like to try something new?” he murmurs against your lips.

You respond with an affirmative hum, and whine as he pulls away.

He grips your waist, lifting you off his lap as if you weigh nothing at all, before setting you back down so you straddle just his left thigh. You jolt as your clothed arousal presses against the bare skin of his thigh.

Eris rolls his thumb over your swollen lips and whispers tauntingly, “Are you horny, Little Bird? Do you need some release?”

You nod shamelessly.

“Get yourself off, then.”

Your brows pinch with confusion, but realization dawns over you as he digs his fingers into your ass cheeks, grinding your clothed cunt against his leg. Your lips part in a silent gasp at the wave of pleasure that rolls through you. He guides you as you set a steady rhythm, grinding your throbbing clit against his thigh. The friction is electrifying, but you need more. The thin barrier of fabric separating you from him is suffocating. 

You whine pathetically, and he senses your desire. Eris pinches the flesh of your ass, and you lift your hips slightly. He removes his hands from behind you and you watch as they dip down between your thighs. You throb with anticipation as he hooks a finger underneath the fabric. Your arousal sticks to the flimsy material as he peels it aside, exposing your bare cunt.

“You’re dripping for me, darling,” he croons.

A long moan escapes your lips as you settle back down onto his thigh. With nothing separating you from him, you can feel how every ridge of his muscle stimulates your clit. He continues guiding you with his hands on your waist for a few seconds, before abruptly pulling away. 

You pause, mouth agape, as he stretches his arms over the back of the couch. Your cheeks flare in a combination of frustration and embarrassment as he leans back in his seat with a coy smirk on his lips.

He arches a brow expectantly, “Go on.”

You desperately want to wipe the smug look off his face—but your lust, your need for release, is too strong. You brace your hands against his broad shoulders and begin moving again. You groan at the way your clit slides against his bare thigh.

“You like making a mess over my thigh?”

You nod obediently.

He jerks his thigh once underneath you, and you cry out at the sensation.

“I need words, Birdie,” he drawls.

You roll your hips against him desperately and pant between gasps, “I love it.”

He shakes his leg at a steady pace, and the additional stimulation sends you reeling.

“Yeah?” he coos, “Tell me how it feels.”

Your legs tremble as your clit catches against the tensing muscles of his thigh.

“Feels filthy,” you mewl.

He grips your chin firmly, directing your gaze to his, before his arm returns to the back of the couch.

“Fitting for a filthy little girl, getting herself off on my leg,” he purrs, “I’m not even touching you and you’re a whimpering mess for me.”

His degrading words don’t even register, your mind clouded with desire. You can feel the tension building in your gut, and you pant with each roll of your hips. You try to increase your pace as you feel your high approaching, but your legs tremble underneath you, leaving that peak you so desperately desire just out of reach. 

“Please,” your voice trembles.

Eris knows exactly what you want, but he taunts you, “Please what?”

A fat tear escapes the corner of your eye and rolls down your flushed cheeks.

Your bottom lip wobbles as you whimper, “Touch me, Eris. Please.”

He swiftly pulls you off his thigh and lays you down on the couch. He crashes his lips against yours, your teeth bumping at the force. Eris doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath as he trails his hand up your inner thigh before sliding his middle finger through your slick, from your entrance to your swollen clit. Unlike last time, he doesn’t waste time teasing as he promptly sinks his middle finger inside of you. 

You cry out at the feeling of his finger deep inside you, and he curls it in response. He doesn’t hold back as he rubs your clit with his thumb while thrusting his finger, curling it against your g-spot with each maneuver. He latches his lips to your neck and sucks harshly while his unoccupied hand flicks over your peaked nipples. 

Your mind whirls at the sensation—the feeling of him all over you. It’s almost too much, having him everywhere. You desperately claw at his back, searching for something to stabilize you. 

Your stomach coils as you feel your high approaching again. He can feel you clench around his finger, and he groans against your skin, “You gonna cum for me, love? Finish all over my hand?”

Another tear rolls down your cheek, “Yes,” you blubber, “’M so close.”

“Let go, Little Bird,” he coaxes while slipping another finger inside of you.

The added stretch sends you over the edge. You all but scream as shockwaves of pleasure roll through your body. Your toes curl and your nails dig into his back as your vision spots. His fingers slow, but he keeps rubbing your clit as you ride through your high. He continues until your hips jerk from the overstimulation, and your hands go limp around his neck. You wince as he pulls his fingers from you and watch through hooded eyes as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking up every last drop of your arousal. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, your mind spinning in a post-orgasmic haze. 

Eris softly strokes your cheek with the back of his hand before dipping down and capturing your lips with his. This time, the kiss is slow—no bumping teeth or clashing tongues. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, relishing in the intimacy of it all, until he pulls away.

An airy laugh passes through your lips as he rests his forehead against yours.

“You’ll be the end of me, Little Bird,” Eris mumbles. He places a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose before collapsing on top of you. You grunt at the weight, and he shifts over enough so that he isn’t restricting your breathing, but his bare body remains draped over yours.

 “The end is but a beginning in disguise,” you tease as he nestles his nose against your cheek.

He chuckles, his breath tickling your neck. 

“How were you made so wise?” he muses.

“Wisdom isn’t born, Fox. It’s learned,” you trace your fingers along the arm draped over you, “And I have a lot more living to do before I can even come close to it.”

“Well, I think you’re plenty wise,” he curves a finger underneath your chin and tilts your head towards his.

Your nose is millimeters apart from his as you gaze into his amber eyes. Their golden hue is vibrant, much like his lopsided smile. But suddenly, something inside them dims, and the corners of his lips twitch downwards. Your brows furrow as you note the subtle change.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper, brushing back his crimson locks.

Eris shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”

You quirk a brow, “Clearly not.”

His hardened stare doesn’t stray from your eyes, but it seems to be searching for something. A chill crawls up your spine at his scrutinizing gaze, as if he’s trying to read your darkest thoughts. You’re suddenly aware of how exposed, how vulnerable you are to him right now—both physically and emotionally.

“Your eyes…” he pauses, as if searching for the right words, before continuing, “Do you remember the first night we met?”

The crinkle between your brows deepens, “How could I forget?”

He wets his lips before replying, “I told you your eyes were familiar.”

Fuck.

You pray that he doesn’t feel the uptick of your heart and continue stroking his arm steadily.

“I just realized,” he continues, “Who they remind me of.”

Panic washes over you, but your expression doesn’t falter, and you maintain your soothing touch.

“Oh?” you hum nonchalantly, “Who may that be?”

Eris shifts his gaze away from the eyes in question, and instead watches the rise and fall of your bare chest.

“A woman I knew a long time ago,” he finally replies.

You continue threading your fingers through his hair as you contemplate your next words. You are breeching unfamiliar territory, and one wrong step could doom you.

“Was she important to you?” you ask cautiously.

He doesn’t respond for a while, and his body is tense over yours. You wait with bated breath for his reply, your curiosity growing with each passing second.

“I don’t know.”

It’s not what you were expecting—but you aren’t sure what you were expecting, exactly.

You mull over his response, nibbling on your bottom lip in thought. Pressing him further feels like a violation—not only of his vulnerability, but of Mor’s. But curiosity is gripping you like a vice. This is the first time in a week you’ve gotten him close to talking about the Night Court, you justify to yourself, don’t let the opportunity slip through your fingers.

“May I ask what happened?” you inquire tentatively.

 He grunts and rests his head in the crook of your neck, “It’s not exactly a bedtime story, darling.”

You frown, unsure how to press him further without raising suspicion. 

He must notice your disappointment as he sighs, “I can practically hear those gears turning in your head, Little Bird. Would you really like to know?”

You nod. He traces shapes over the expanse of your stomach as he contemplates where to begin.

“Many centuries ago, my father arranged for my marriage to a daughter of the Night Court,” he speaks slowly, “It was purely political—a chance to strengthen the alliance between our courts.”

This is so wrong, you think to yourself. But you make no move to stop him.

“She did not want the union. So, the night before the wedding, she escaped—into the arms of another male, hoping that if she tarnished her…purity, the wedding would be called off.”

Tears prick your eyes as you know exactly what’s coming next, but you blink them away.

“Her father was—is—a cruel man. As cruel as my father,” the steadiness of his voice falters, but he continues, “When he found out what she’d done, he tortured her with a brutality unlike any I’ve witnessed. He left her, stripped naked, at the border of our court, with a sign that she was ours to deal with.”

You’re grateful for his sparing of the details, because you’re not sure you’d be able to hold yourself together.

“I found her that morning, while out with my guards,” he stops, and for a moment you don’t think he will continue. But he releases a deep sigh, and barely speaks above a whisper, “I demanded them not to touch her.”

Anger bubbles in the pit of your stomach, and it takes everything in you not to scream. You feel nauseous, the reality of your predicament suddenly sobering—the reality that you’re lying naked on a couch with a man who left your sister for dead.

 “If I or any of my guards touched her, she would have been stuck in Autumn—doomed to a life she did not want, according to my court’s laws. If I had…” his voice trembles ever so slightly, “If I had touched her, my father would have killed her on the spot. So, I left her there. I knew her…her friends would come save her. But it was not a decision I wanted to make.”

The fury trembling in your bones settles, and your mind reels over his recount of the events. This is not the version of the story you’ve heard from Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel. He could be lying—but what reason would Eris have to lie to you, when he is blissfully unaware of your relation to Mor? More than that, you’re unable to ignore the sincerity, the distress in his voice. 

“Do you regret it?” you whisper so quietly; you’re surprised he can hear you.

“No,” his response is immediate, “Not for a minute. I gave her a chance to live. Even if she doesn’t see it that way. But I’ll never be able to get that image out of my head…of her pleading for help, and me being unable to grant it.”

Your mouth is dry and you’re sure he can feel the thundering of your heart. Your head is a muddled mess, to say the least. 

“Gray areas,” you whisper simply.

We can’t be faulted for how we choose to navigate them, his earlier words ring through your mind. But not faulting him feels like the gravest betrayal you could commit.

A humorless chuckle tumbles from his lips as he echoes you, “Gray areas.”

His head sinks further into the crook of your neck and he runs his thumb soothingly over your abdomen, unknowingly combatting the pounding of your head as you process the onslaught of new—and unexpected—information. 

“Do you still align with the Night Court?” you change the subject boldly but keep your tone nonchalant.

Fortunately, he doesn’t seem fazed by your question. Unfortunately, he doesn’t entertain it either.

“I like to keep my business separate from the bedroom,” he rasps against your neck, and you shudder at the tickle of his breath.

You purse your lips into a humorless smile, “Compartmentalization.”

“Forgive me, darling,” he muses, the seriousness of his tone gone, “But I can’t bring myself to discuss pompous High Lords while lying atop a beautiful, naked female.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” you tease half-heartedly.

He raises his head from your shoulder and looks down at you, the fox-like grin that had momentarily disappeared back, “I don’t think, I know,” he brushes his nose along your jawline, “You are the most delectable little thing I’ve seen in centuries.”

  You feel his groin twitch against your upper thigh, and you roll your eyes, “You are insatiable, Eris Vanserra.”

He laughs and your heart sings at the sound, despite your reeling mind. He presses his chest against yours and stretches his arm out to the floor. You watch curiously as he rolls back into his previous position with your forgotten book in hand.

“I’m not quite sure if Tydeus qualifies as a bedtime story either,” you arch a brow.

He shrugs with a cheeky grin, “Well if you ever plan on getting through that mountain of books, you’d better get started.”

Eris holds it out expectantly, and after a moment of contemplation, you grab it with your free arm. You untangle your other hand from his hair and wrap it around his shoulder so you can balance the book on your stomach with both arms. He squirms over you, and you squeak he accidentally elbows the side of your breast.  

“Careful,” you hiss.

“My apologies, Little Bird,” he coos as he finally finds a comfortable position on his side. One arm rests underneath your neck, while the other remains draped over your stomach behind the book. He drops his head onto your shoulder, so he has a full view of the book in your hands.

“I’ll let you know when to turn the page,” he nods his head against you, encouraging you to begin.

You squint but relent as you see his eyes moving back and forth, reading the text before him. You can feel him smiling below you as you focus your gaze on the page in front of you and pick up where you left off earlier. 

You’re nearing the end of the page when Eris taps the side of your hand with his finger. He waits patiently for you to finish, and both of your heads shift when you flip the page. You fall into a comfortable rhythm. He taps your hand softly each time to indicate when he’s finished, and you alternate between who finishes first with each flip of the page. The rise and fall of your bare chest moves in time with his breath against your skin, and despite your nudity, you don’t feel an ounce of shyness.

As you read, you can’t help but think that this must be what heaven feels like: orange flames warming your skin as you lounge on a couch reading with a gorgeous, and very naked, male on top of you. But there’s just one tiny problem—the gorgeous, and very naked, male in question.

You feel your thoughts slip from the book and urge yourself to focus on Tydeus’s philosophy rather than dwell on your anxiety. You find yourself so immersed in one passage in particular, that you don’t notice the way Eris’s breathing slows, or how his head lulls against your chest. You reach the end of the page and wait patiently for his signal to continue. Your brows cinch as the seconds stretch into minutes. You look down and realize that the heir to the Autumn Court throne, in all his glory, is sleeping like a babe using your breasts as a pillow.

The book lays forgotten in your hands as you observe him. Even in his softest of moments, his features still hold a certain sharpness. But right now, he looks…peaceful. His cheek is pressed up against the flesh of your breast, and with his eyes closed, you notice that his eyelashes are much longer than you imagined. You long to trace your fingers over the freckles splattered across his nose, to feel the curve of his nose. It’s hard to think that the male before you is capable of any cruelty at all.

But he is. 

And you’re gazing at him wide-eyed like a lovestruck teenager.

 You wish you could speak to your sister right now. You’re not sure what you’d say—maybe nothing at all. Maybe looking into her eyes, which are so similar to yours, would reveal some hidden truth, buried deep under centuries of hatred. Or maybe they would hold disdain—disappointment directed at you, for rolling around with a male who hurt her deeply.

Eris snores softly, halting your train of thought. Your chest tightens and the flames of the fire start to burn your skin. You can’t stay here. More importantly, you have a job to do.

You set the book down on the floor beneath you, and cautiously shift your body. He grunts in his sleep, but doesn’t stir, as you carefully slip out from underneath him. You hiss as you tumble onto the ground below and pause to make sure he’s still asleep. His snores don’t falter, and you rise from the ground.

You make quick work of gathering your clothes, cringing at the dried arousal covering your inner thighs and panties. Just as you’re about to slip out of his chambers, you turn back to take one last glance at his sleeping form. You gnaw your lower lip, a pang of guilt tugging at your heartstrings. Against your better judgment, you search for a scrap piece of paper and pen to leave him a note, as he had done for you.

‘Till we meet again, Eris Vanserra

Your lips purse—simple, yet effective. You set the note down on the wooden table and drape a throw blanket over the sleeping male in case he has any unexpected visitors. You don’t dare look back as you creep towards the doors.

The creaking of the rusted hinges has you cringing as you ease them open, inch by inch, and peer into the hallway. It’s empty—thank the Mother—with the only movement coming from the flickering flames of torches on the walls. 

You slink into the shadows as you move to your left down the hallway. Assuming Azriel’s map is correct, Eris’s office is two floors above his personal chambers, about one mile to the left. Despite the sizeable distance, you don’t risk winnowing for fear of someone catching you.

As you move along the walls, there’s a heavy weight on your shoulders. You can’t help but feel guilty for playing with his feelings and using them to your advantage—especially following the vulnerability he showed you tonight. But you remind yourself that, even in life’s dimmest gray areas, your loyalty to your family is unwavering.

Your heart thumps in your chest as you scale the winding staircase, keeping an eye out for any guards or lurking Vanserras. As you make your way down the next hallway, identical to the last, you move as swiftly as you can. The sooner you’re gone, the better—but you can’t deny the unease that grows with each step. On one hand, you hope you’ll find something to report back to Rhys. But on the other, you dread finding something that may contradict your image of Eris thus far.

Your steps are featherlight, and by the grace of the Cauldron, you make it to your destination without any setbacks. You press your ear against the door before slowing pushing it open.

The room is much like Eris’s chambers: swirling yellows and reds along the walls, a blazing fireplace, and a deep mahogany rug carpet covering the stone floor. In the middle sits a large, mahogany desk, covered in parchment. You creep forward, careful not to make any noise. You run your fingers along the polished wood of the desk, glancing over the papers. Nothing stands out as you shuffle through them. You search through his cabinets, rifle through the small bookcase in the back, and even check beneath the cushions of the chairs. All you can seem to find is polite, and uninteresting, correspondences with various courts, and menial to-do lists. You check each possible hiding place but come up short once again. There’s absolutely nothing here.

You’re not sure whether to feel relieved or frustrated—or perhaps, both. You glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of the dimly lit room. 3:06. You contemplate redirecting your search to Beron’s office, but you remember from Azriel’s map that it’s six floors down, and approximately two miles away on the opposite side of the house. If you were to go now, there’s a chance the sun would be rising by the time you’re ready to leave, leaving you defenseless without the dark of the shadows. 

With a sigh, you check over the room once more to ensure nothing is out of place before making your exit. You leave just as you came, slinking into the shadows along the hallways as quiet as a mouse. As you navigate the winding tunnels, you wonder if Eris is still sleeping soundly by the fire, or if he’s aware of your absence. And as your thoughts drift to the crimson-haired heir, you find yourself moving faster—as if escaping the walls of the Forest House will erase him from your mind. 

The wind is even more chilling than usual in the dead of night, you realize as you finally make it out through a side door. You make quick work of the courtyard, using the shadows to your advantage to avoid detection by the sentries littered throughout. When you finally make it out, you will the air to twist and fold around you, winnowing you back to your ransack cabin just as the sun begins to peek out from the horizon. Your limbs are tired, but your mind is racing. You know that sleep will not be kind to you. So, you kick off your boots and plop yourself on the dirty floor in front of the fireplace.

You find yourself just as you were before; hovering your hands over the orange embers until the burn becomes too much, and you are forced to pull away. Again. Over and over. As if the pain will grant you some sense of clarity. As if nothing has changed since you were last sat here. As if you aren’t falling further into the fox’s trap with no way out.

Being born of Light and Dark can be a difficult thing. But there are far worse evils in the world, some lurking just around the corner. 

taglist:

@lilah-asteria @goldenmagnolias @myromanempiree @i-know-i-can @hannzoaks @olive-main @lilylilyyyyyy @batboygirlie @stuff-i-found-while-crying @moni-cah @6000-fandoms @melsunshine @roseodelle @rcarbo1

[freyaphoria]

Run Away Together (Part II)

a/n: It's me again! I apologize for making you wait months for the second part of this. First of all, this is the continuation of the first part I wrote, the main story. Since everything got so mixed, I feel the need to state it again. This story is the continuation of the fic where reader and hwa tried to escape and joong shot reader in the leg. I will start writing the second part of Passion to Punishment. And I would like to thank my babe, @matzrionette , for her contributions♡ PLEASE READ THE FIC SHE WROTE, I READ IT THREE TIMES EVERY DAY

tw: yan!hongjoong, poor hwa:( , blood, violence, bone fracture, failed escape attempt, punishment, swearing, knife, gun, killing, being shot, fever, painkiller use, body bruise, bone breaking with an iron rod, fainting, slightly gore, manipulation, hurt comfort(HAJDMDJ sorry), I had so much fun writing Jongho's parts, Yunho is at the crime scene AGAIN, kinda seongjoong

wc: 6.5k

taglist: @aim-blossom

Yan!Matz masterlist

<- previous part

Hongjoong, with his hands covered in blood from bandaging his new doll, opened the basement door, locked the two of them inside, and went upstairs. He had to do it; he had to hurt them. The tension in the air was palpable as he ascended the creaky wooden stairs, each step echoing the weight of his decision. Hongjoong's mind raced with conflicting emotions. He knew that to protect you, protect Seonghwa, drastic measures were necessary, even if it meant compromising his own morals. The blood on his hands was a stark reminder of the lengths he was willing to go to keep you here. As he reached the top of the stairs, he know that the consequences of his actions would haunt him for a long time to come.

Seonghwa’s attempt to escape after months, and your somehow convincing him, was an indication that Hongjoong’s plans were going well. Did Seonghwa breaking his rules make him unhappy? Yes, it did cause him a measure of displeasure. However, at this moment, what truly mattered was not Hongjoong’s feelings. After all, in the grand scheme of things, he would ultimately get what he desired; he had the power to make Seonghwa worship him once again. That was not what mattered right now.

After stepping out of the shower, Hongjoong meticulously put on his new clothes, carefully combed, and dried his growing hair. This grooming routine ensured he looked exceedingly neat, normal, and entirely harmless. His youthful yet captivating appearance was a highly effective tool in gaining the trust of his unsuspecting victims. People were drawn to his neat, his warm smile, the soft and gentle tone of his voice, the light that sparkled in his eyes, the professional gestures he employed while speaking, and the seamless harmony of the words he chose. Just like Seonghwa did...

If he lingered at home any longer, he would be late, so he quickly got ready and packed his belongings into a backpack. The weather had gotten colder compared to two hours ago when he had shot one of his victims and dragged the other inside, and he was angry with himself for not wearing his jacket and putting it in his bag. After quickly getting into his car and starting it, he turned on the heater and took out the paper from the glove compartment. He knew where he was going, but he still wanted to check. He saw photos of a man in the file. In the first photo on his profile, the old man's wrinkled eyes were full of life and shone with a light that was unexpected from his age. Hongjoong took pleasure in very few things as much as he took pleasure in making lively people lose their zest for life.

When he reviewed the file again and reached the last page, he suddenly hit his forehead with his hand in frustration. He was supposed to inform someone before leaving the house, but it had completely slipped his mind. He quickly went to the contacts on his phone, scrolling through the list, and was just about to find the name of the person he needed to inform when the phone rang. The unexpected call interrupted his search, and he hesitated for a moment before answering. When he saw who was calling, he realized he was indeed late, and the person on the other end of the line was likely angry with him.

“Why the fuck are you late?”

“How the fuck are you talking to your hyung like that?” Hongjoong fastened his seatbelt and put the files back in the glove compartment.

"Hyung my ass. I’m freezing here, hurry up or I’ll screw you the first moment I see you.”

“Shut up, I’m in the car, I’m coming"

“Hurry up, asshole.” All he wanted was a little respect, but he was looking for it in the wrong place. Respect was currently in the basement, probably calming down his new little lover. Hongjoong drove the car out of the parking lot and hit the road.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

You had started to come to your senses. Hongjoong, the most considerate person in the world, had taken the bullet out of your leg without any anesthetic and stitched it up, causing you to pass out from the pain. But being extremely considerate, he had given you a choice: “Pick your own punishment, either I take that bullet out without any drugs, or I don’t take it out and it stays there.” You were going to choose the second option at first, but because living with a constantly bleeding wound that nearly exposed your bone and getting infected in this dusty basement would be impossible, you chose the first option.

And oh, when he inserted a big tweezer into your leg to remove the bullet, the pain was so intense that you wished you would die from the infection. The searing agony felt like it would never end. Maybe you didn't realize he hurt you so much on purpose, but the last thing you remember is Seonghwa holding your hand tightly, his grip firm and unwavering. His eyes were swollen and red from crying, tears streaming down his face as he whispered words of comfort, trying to keep you conscious and hopeful. The room around you seemed to blur, but Seonghwa's presence was the only thing that kept you grounded in those harrowing moments. Still, Seonghwa wasn’t very successful and you left yourself in the darkness of your mind.

"Angel! You're awake!" As Seonghwa crawled towards you, you tried to sit up from where you were lying. The constant pain in your leg and the cold spreading throughout your body made you jump and shiver suddenly. "Wait, don't get up suddenly." When you looked at him, you saw that his legs were bruised and swollen. It looked like the bruises on his skin were about to burst and bleed, as if he had been hit by something very hard. "H-Hwa? What happened to you?" your voice came out very hoarse, all that shouting and gasping in pain had dried your throat. Despite feeling freezing cold, the warmth coming from within you made you uncomfortable and you started to shiver. "Don't worry, I'm fine, but you have a fever. We need to bring it down." Seonghwa placed his hand on your sweaty forehead to check your temperature. His hands were trembling, and if you looked closely, you could also see his lips trembling.

"Is he still here?" you asked in a low and nervous voice, your eyes darting around the dark basement as if expecting him to appear any second. He shook his head slowly, his expression a mix of relief and concern. "He left about half an hour ago," he replied, his voice steady as he tried to stay calm and not alarm you.

He dragged himself on the ground again, his movements slow and labored, trying to reach the bathroom in the basement. You watched him with growing anxiety, the silence between you heavy with unspoken questions. "What did he do to your legs?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, but he didn't answer. Instead, he wet a tissue and came back to you, his face pale and etched with pain.

"Hwa, did he break your legs?" you asked again, your voice trembling as you tried to understand the extent of his injuries. He looked at you with haunted eyes, the silence stretching on, making your heart pound even harder.

When the wet and cold tissue touched your forehead, you shivered and wanted to pull back, but Seonghwa held your head with one hand, preventing you from retreating. “It doesn’t matter. We need to lower your fever first.” As he moved the napkin from your face to your neck, you flinched more and tried to move forward to escape, but your injured leg hit Seonghwa’s probably broken leg. A deep, pain-filled groan came from Seonghwa, and he tried to hold his leg. “Seonghwa! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.” While Seonghwa continued to writhe in pain, he nodded at you and tried to smile as much as the pain allowed. “It-it’s okay. It-it will pass soon- Agh….” “We need to wrap your leg, there must be a cloth here, right?” When Seonghwa saw you moving, he grabbed your shoulder and tried to lay you back down. “I’ll take care of it, you worry about yourself. Your fever is too high.” He could never be convinced. Once he set his mind on something, he would definitely do it, and if he didn’t want to do something, he would never do it, so you didn’t argue with him further.

Seonghwa managed to lower your fever a bit and found a painkiller from the depths of the basement; its expiration date had passed by 3 months, and normally you shouldn’t take it, but it was a mild herbal medicine, and you really needed it. To see if you would be okay after taking it, Seonghwa tried it himself first and, not seeing any side effects, gave it to you as well. And surprisingly, it worked. Seonghwa hid these medicines in one of the most cluttered parts of the basement in case such an event happened again. As your pain eased, your fatigue fully surfaced, and you let yourself fall asleep. Seeing that you fell asleep willingly without passing out, Seonghwa felt a bit relieved. As he saw your fever dropping and the bleeding from your wound stopping, he remembered he needed to treat himself.

His leg was extremely swollen and constantly aching, a persistent pain that seemed to get worse with each passing moment. The pain was so intense that it made him feel dizzy and lightheaded, as if the world around him was spinning, and the painkiller he took didn’t work for him. He thought about taking another one but didn’t, in case you needed it again since it worked for you. Hongjoong had probably broken both of his legs with an iron rod, right below the calf.

He couldn't stand on both of his legs; previously, he had hit his leg with an iron rod because he had tried to escape, but at that time, he could still stand a little. This time, it was impossible. It must have been definitely broken. The sharp pain was spreading from his ankle to his thighs, and from there to his entire body, becoming unbearable. It felt as if his entire body was broken, with pain everywhere. Every part of him hurt with each heartbeat and blood pump, making it impossible for him to stay still. The pain was making him dizzy, and his vision was starting to darken. If he didn't pull himself together, he would faint, and if he woke up only to find that Hongjoong's anger hadn't subsided and he attacked her again, he wouldn't be able to protect her while unconscious. But why was he protecting her in the first place? Was it because he felt guilty? Because he had given Hongjoong the idea to kidnap her? Maybe Hongjoong should have killed her right there.

He needed to pull himself together; he was sweating profusely, even in this cold basement. Crawling was excruciating, as if his leg was being sanded with sandpaper and his skin was being set on fire. Nevertheless, he had to wash his face. He had to do something, or he would lose himself. He pulled himself forward using his arms towards the sink. His arms also hurt; Hongjoong had hit his arm when he raised it to defend himself, but at least it wasn't broken. Compared to the pain in his leg, the pain in his arm was nothing. But the most painful thing was breaking Hongjoong's trust.

He shouldn't have done it, yes, he had gone too far. He had ruined Hongjoong's trust in 5 minutes and didn't know if Hongjoong would trust him the same way again. But freedom had seemed very tempting. It meant he still wasn't a completely obedient toy to him, he needed more shaping. He noted to himself that when Hongjoong returned home, he would need to fall at his feet, apologize hundreds of times, and beg for his forgiveness.

He gave a sigh of relief when he reached the sink with tears streaming down his face from the pain. It had taken him about 5 minutes to get there from your side, even though it would normally take a regular person 10 seconds. If you suddenly called him, he couldn't come immediately, so he had to finish it quickly and return to your side. He lifted himself using the strength from his arms, each muscle straining with effort, and bent over the sink. He tried not to put any weight on his feet, which throbbed with a dull, persistent pain. When he quickly washed his face with the cold water, the sensation momentarily jolting him awake, he let himself fall back to the ground and groaned in pain. He balled up a piece of toilet paper, wet it under the faucet, and, leaning heavily against the door frame, placed it on his ankle as a makeshift cold compress. He looked over at you sleeping calmly on the other side of the basement, your breathing steady and peaceful. He wished so much that he could sleep like you right now, to escape his pain and find some semblance of rest… Maybe he could sleep. His head was spinning, and the floor wasn't stable, it felt like he was on a roller coaster. As his head and eyelids grew heavier, his body began to relax. The pain hadn't gone away, it was still there, but at least he wasn't thinking about it right now. He would sleep, even if Hongjoong came here and took you, he would sleep, he needed it so much. The cold wetness of the wet paper ball on his leg had calmed him, and he let himself fall asleep.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

"If you keep complaining about the weather a little more, Jongho, I'll throw you out of the car and you'll walk the whole way. I even turned on the heater for you, what more do you want?" Jongho shoved his hands into his pockets and glared at Hongjoong while shivering. "You accepted this gig, dragged me along, and now you're saying you'll throw me out of the car?" Jongho snapped angrily in one go. "You also chose to team up with me, you could have told Yunho, and he would have changed it. So stop whining." After Hongjoong's harsh response, the younger one sighed, sank into his seat, and started watching the road through the car window.

They weren't a good team, they constantly bickered and argued over the smallest things, but they still got their work done and left no evidence behind. "We're here, wake up, princess." Hongjoong said with a mocking tone as soon as they arrived. Jongho, who had been in a light sleep, immediately woke up and punched Hongjoong in the arm. "I'm not that little mouse you took into your home, don't call me that again, bastard." If they didn't have a job to do, they would probably have fought each other, but they knew if they didn't get the job done on time, Yunho would nag them. "Move, don't dawdle." Hongjoong got out of the car and looked at the ultra-luxurious villa adorned with lights. 'Same scenario again...' he thought to himself

They had paid a large amount to kill that old man to Hongjoong and Jongho, and now the reason was understood. Another rich businessman, another money-related murder. "How do these bastards have so much money?" Jongho stuck his head out of the car and looked at the mansion, which was almost invisible from the lights. "They don't sit at home jerking off like you, they work." Hongjoong spoke as he opened his trunk and took out his equipment. "What am I doing right now? Do you see my dick out or am I on the job?" Jongho also joined Hongjoong and started rummaging through his bag.

The mansion was four stories tall and very wide, built in a new architecture, and the ornamental shrubs in its garden looked recently pruned. As Yunho had said, surprisingly, only two security guards were protecting this huge house, and they didn't seem to be paying much attention to their surroundings. They could easily be killed. Hongjoong put on his special gloves and mask, took his gun and spare bullets. Normally, he wouldn't go on a mission with so little equipment, but Yunho had told them that even a few bullets would suffice, and they trusted him. He and his team had never made a mistake.

After dressing, Jongho threw his bag into the car and closed the car door. Outside, the only sound other than the wind was the two security guards talking as if they were discussing something very important. Both guards were taller than them but very distracted. Even though Hongjoong’s car wasn't very far away, the gurads still hadn't noticed them. With Hongjoong's signal, the two of them advanced from the side of the car to the front yard, towards the guards. Jongho usually preferred to use a knife; he was very good in close combat. Hongjoong was also good, but Jongho was much stronger than him.

They continued to approach silently. Since the house lights illuminated the entire path, there was nowhere to hide or camouflage; they had to be quick and attack as soon as they approached. Using the garden wall as cover, they got closer and were now very close to the guards. Jongho wondered how such careless people could be guards, but it worked in his favor. Thanks to that, he would complete his mission and receive a large amount of money he had never received before.

The guards were about three meters in front of them. In this silence, Jongho and Hongjoong could hear all their conversations, even their breathing. They had prepared themselves to kill them instantly. If Yunho was wrong and there were more guards, they didn't know what they would do.

Jongho stepped in front of Hongjoong and took his long and large knife in his left hand; he waited for Hongjoong's signal.

Hongjoong pulled the trigger of his suppressor-equipped gun, ensuring he held it properly with both hands for maximum stability. The suppressor wouldn't completely block the sound of the shot, but it would significantly muffle it. Since they were in an open area and the distance between the entrance and the house was far, it could prevent those inside the house from hearing the noise.

The two of them made eye contact, their gazes locking in silent communication. Hongjoong raised his eyebrows, a clear gesture indicating that he was waiting for approval from Jongho. Understanding the unspoken question, Jongho blinked in confirmation. With a steady hand, Hongjoong pulled his left hand away from the gun, making sure Jongho could see his every move. He showed three fingers to Jongho, signaling a countdown. Then, he lowered one finger, then two, and then one. And as Jongho grabbed the neck of the man with his back turned and stabbed him with the knife, Hongjoong simultaneously shot the man facing the knife-wounded man in the forehead. It had taken no more than 3 seconds for both to die, and as they had predicted, no other guards came from anywhere else. It was a very quiet job; everything had happened in an instant.

Now they had left the man on the ground with blood gushing from his neck and the other man whose brains were scattered all over the road and entered the garden to proceed towards their main goal, towards the mansion.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

Suddenly, you were jolted awake by a sharp, piercing pain. As your consciousness slowly returned, you realized that your leg was bleeding from the area where it had been stitched up. It seemed that during your sleep, you must have made a wrong move, causing the stitches to tear open. The pain was so intense and overwhelming that for a brief moment, you completely forgot where you were and what was happening around you. The room seemed to blur as your mind struggled to catch up with the sudden burst of agony.

"Hwa..." You called out weakly to him, but got no response. The place where you were lying was stained and damp with the mixture of blood and the wet cloth that Hwa had used to bring down your fever. Your wound was definitely going to get infected. You tried to see Seonghwa in the darkness of the basement but it was nearly impossible. The reflection of the moonlight from the small window only illuminated the area in front of you. At least you knew he wasn't nearby.

"Hwa, are you here?" you called out, raising your voice slightly. The tension in your tone was unmistakable, filled with worry and fear. Seonghwa would never leave you alone after a punishment, especially not when you were suffering from a fever and bleeding. It was so unlike him. As the blood from your leg ran down your thighs once more, you felt a sharp pang of pain. Your vision blurred slightly, and you realized just how parched you were. The thirst crept up on you, making your mouth feel dry and your throat scratchy. You needed water, but more than that, you needed Seonghwa by your side to reassure you that everything would be okay.

The only continuous water source in the basement was the water from the sink, and there was no problem with drinking it. Besides, even if there was an issue, you had to drink it. Your mouth was very dry, and your lips were cracked.

You didn't want to try standing up; it would hurt too much. The idea of enduring another layer of pain on top of the already unbearable one was simply inconceivable. So, instead, you gathered all the strength you could muster and began to drag yourself towards the sink, relying heavily on your good leg and the support of your arms. As you slowly inched your way forward, you were startled by the sight of a silhouette leaning on the bathroom door. Your heart immediately started to beat rapidly, pounding in your chest, and you were gripped by a sudden sense of panic, not knowing what to do next. In your frantic state, you attempted to crawl back in the opposite direction, desperate to escape whatever danger the shadow might represent. But then, a low, agonized familiar groan emanated from the shadow, causing you to pause in your tracks. The sound was filled with such pain that it made you stop crawling.

"Seonghwa? Is that you?" you called out, your voice trembling with worry. When the shadow made a sound as if confirming, you quickly crawled towards him, your heart pounding in your chest. As you got closer, you could finally make out his features. He was drenched in sweat, and his eyes seemed glazed over, indicating that he wasn't fully conscious. His body started to writhe and moan in place, and you quickly realized that his condition was far worse than your own.

You reached out and touched his forehead, feeling the intense heat radiating from his skin. He had a fever, and it was burning through him even in this cold basement. You pulled back slightly, your eyes scanning down to his legs. The sight made your stomach churn. If you had to describe it in one word, it would be 'terrible'. His legs were completely messed up. Despite the poor visibility in the darkness, you could distinguish light from dark, and Seonghwa’s legs were an ominous, deep shade. They were swollen and purple up to his kneecaps, but 'purple' didn't quite capture it—they were almost black. "Seonghwa! Why didn’t you wake me up? Your legs are so bad!" you exclaimed in a panic.

You knew you had to help him. The condition of his legs was alarming, and you weren't sure if a person could die from such severe bone fractures, but he looked like he was on the brink. It was clear that Hongjoong must have hit the same spot over and over, pulverizing his bones into a gruesome state. Seonghwa's suffering was evident, and you couldn't let him endure it alone.

"Ugh… it hurts…” he groaned softly, feeling the intense pain radiate through his body. “I know it hurts. Wait,” you responded, your voice filled with concern. You stood up very nervously, taking great care not to open any more stitches that had barely begun to heal. And you did it! You managed to balance yourself by putting your strength into your good foot.

With determination, you wet a few cloths in the sink and leaned over to run them over his face, just like he had done for you before. The soothing touch of the wet cloths seemed to provide a small comfort in the midst of the chaos.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a loud bang, and the clatter of metal filled the room. Startled, you lost your balance and fell to the ground. Even though the impact sent sharp waves of pain through your body, you chose not to make a sound out of fear. The last thing you wanted to do was draw attention to yourself and face the devil who was now approaching.

He came right at you with an air of menace. As he suddenly turned on the lights, the harsh brightness illuminated his dangerous face. His expression was constantly grinning, as if everything was so funny, a stark contrast to the terror and pain you were experiencing. The sinister amusement in his eyes made your blood run cold.

“Where were we?” Hongjoong's voice sounded sarcastic and amused, the tone of someone who finds great entertainment in the suffering of others. Seonghwa’s eyes snapped open as soon as he heard his voice. It was like he had just woken up from a nightmare, except the nightmare was about to begin now, in real life, with no escape. “Don’t come any closer, can’t you see our condition? We’re already in a bad situation. What more do you want?” Your voice was trapped in fear, trembling and barely audible. You were wondering if he could hear you because your voice was so quiet, almost a whisper.

He took slow, deliberate steps in front of you, his eyes never leaving your trembling form. As he approached, towering over you, you felt the weight of his gaze. You were pinned to the ground, feeling utterly tiny and insignificant under his scrutiny. The sight of you, bloody and scared, with helplessness written all over your face, made his heart race with a mix of excitement and something darker. Seeing you in such a vulnerable state stirred something deep inside him, an insatiable desire that making him want more.

Seonghwa, with a sudden burst of energy, lunged forward, using all his strength to drag himself to Hongjoong’s feet. His movements were frantic, and it was clear that he still wasn't in his right mind. Hongjoong, on the other hand, was brimming with excitement. Hongjoong knew exactly what Seonghwa was going to do.

Hwa, what are you doin-” You were cut off when Seonghwa threw himself at Hongjoong’s feet, desperation evident in every movement. “I-I beg you, f-forgive me. I didn’t do it on purpose- agh! I didn’t do it on purpose. P-please love me again. I’ll do a-anything!” The basement was eerily silent except for Seonghwa’s pitiful pleading. Hongjoong watched him without uttering a single word, his expression unreadable. “Why would I forgive you? Who would love naughty little bunnies like you? After all, you betrayed me.” Seonghwa started to cry harder at Hongjoong’s cold, cutting words. You were on the verge of tears too, the discomfort and tension of the situation weighing heavily on you. You wanted to tell him to shut up and go back to his old place, but you were too scared to intervene.

“No, I’m not! I’m not naughty! I didn’t mean to act like that!” Seonghwa’s voice was choked with emotion, his tears flowing freely. Hongjoong watched his masterpiece with a sense of twisted satisfaction. His first love, with his legs broken, threw himself at his feet and begged for forgiveness while his new toy, with her burst stitches, watched what was happening in fear and helplessness. The wiev was of unparalleled beauty. If he hadn’t left his phone upstairs, he would have definitely taken a photo to preserve this view forever. Hongjoong felt a surge of power and control, basking in the pain and fear that radiated from both of you. The basement, usually a place of darkness and dread, became a stage for his cruel artistry, a tableau of suffering and submission.

“But you acted like that.” He finished his sentence with a smile by kicking Seonghwa in the chest. When Seonghwa’s breath hitched and he fell back, you backed away from Hongjoong in panic. Neither of you could muster the courage to speak. Only the sound of his painful, ragged breathing filled the room. Hongjoong looked down at Seonghwa’s ankles. They were broken, but it wasn’t anything that wouldn’t heal in a few weeks. Despite his injuries, it was almost endearing how Seonghwa continued to beg for forgiveness in such a weakened state. When Hongjoong shifted his gaze to you, he noticed that your leg was bleeding again. If he went any further, it would be hard for both of you to heal, so he decided it was enough for now. “Since I’m such an understanding person, I’ll end your punishment here. But you’ll be staying here for the next few days.” You were relieved that he wouldn’t hurt you any further. But you both needed proper first aid right now. “We can’t stay like this. H-Hwa is in a bad condition. Can’t you help him?” Your voice trembled as Seonghwa flinched when he heard his name as he writhed on the ground. The fact that you were thinking of him warmed his aching heart a little. Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa again and smiled that annoying smile of his. “You should have thought of that before you ran away together.”

You thought he would at least help Seonghwa. After all, Seonghwa had asked for forgiveness from him and had been with Hongjoong for a long time. But he hadn’t. He would leave him like this, he would leave you like this. You shouted and cursed after him as he left the basement; you didn’t know where you found this confidence but you were very angry with him. Interestingly enough, he didn’t turn around and do anything to you after you insulted him. He just locked the door and went upstairs.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

As it was 5 am, the exhaustion of the whole day had settled on him like a heavy blanket. All he wanted was to take another shower to wash away the day's fatigue and then fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Normally, he couldn’t sleep without Seonghwa by his side, but tonight he was so tired that he knew he had to sleep, no matter what. He didn’t even have the energy to dry his hair after stepping out of the shower with wet hair clinging to his face and neck. Instead, he just threw himself on the bed with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and his hair still dripping wet. He was probably going to get sick from it, but he didn’t care right now. All he could think about was closing his eyes and escaping into the oblivion of sleep.

He couldn’t sleep. Despite his best efforts to find a comfortable position, he tossed and turned in bed for what seemed like hours. The chill in the air only made things worse, seeping through only the damp towel tied around his waist and about to be opened and causing him to shiver. The cold weather, combined with the lingering dampness of his towel, was a miserable combination that left him feeling even more cold. He had to wrap himself in something. Something warm. Something warm to take away the cold in his heart and body...

He got up with a stumbling motion, slowly put on some clothes, and started walking down the stairs. The sky was gradually lightening at dawn, casting a soft glow over everything, and the fresh morning air was filling the house through the open windows. He quietly opened the basement door, careful not to make any noise. He could see who was where with the light of the new sunlight seeping through the window. You were both sleeping where he had left you last, Seonghwa lying on the floor and you sitting with your backs against the wall. Sleeping would be the wrong word to describe your state. You were more like unconscious.

Hongjoong picked up his favorite toy, trying not to wake or hurting his toy. Although he was short compared to most men, he had a strength that was unexpected from his appearance; he was very strong, so he was able to easily lift his favorite. He returned to the basement door, casting one final glance at his other toy. Without locking it, he quietly closed the door and ascended the stairs. As he gently laid his toy on the bed, he heard a groan of pain.

“Shh, go back to sleep, my prince. I’m here.” Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he locked eyes with Hongjoong, feeling a rush of emotions. He loved him for that. No matter how much Hongjoong hurt him, he would always take care of Seonghwa and show him love. Hongjoong couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Even though he was still running away, he was still in Hongjoong’s bed right now. “I’ll wrap your legs, wait here,” Hongjoong said softly. When he returned with the first aid kit and went to Seonghwa’s side, he saw him looking at him with admiration and a disturbing level of affection. “What?” Hongjoong asked as he unwrapped the new bandage pack in his hands, trying to ignore the intensity in Seonghwa's eyes.

“I love you,” Seonghwa whispered. He loved him very much. Or maybe he thought he did; sometimes, he didn’t know. The lines were blurred. Hongjoong broke him so well, yet he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of attachment. It was a complicated, twisted love, but it was all they had. Hongjoong broke him so well.

“It'll be over soon, don't worry. Just keep your legs straight.”

Seonghwa didn’t take offense that Hongjoong didn’t tell him he loved him back. He knew Hongjoong loved him too.

“Ugh Joongie, it hurts so much." Seonghwa squirmed in discomfort as he felt the tight bandage wrapped securely around his legs, which were throbbing with sharp pain. “Shh shh, I know. Be a good little bunny for me, and don't squirm.” Hongjoong's soothing yet firm voice made Seonghwa suddenly go still. He didn't want to disappoint him even more with his actions. "That's a good boy. I'll give you painkillers as a reward." Hongjoong's words were filled with a mixture of comfort and authority. Seonghwa's eyes met Hongjoong's, filled with a silent plea for relief, and he nodded weakly.

After Hongjoong finished wrapping Seonghwa’s legs tightly to ensure they were properly supported, he gave him a strong painkiller and laid down on the bed next to Seonghwa. He was enveloped in the warmth he so desperately needed, and the soothing heat radiating from Seonghwa’s weakened body served as a balm for Hongjoong’s cold heart and chilled body.

He closed his eyes, thinking that he could finally get some much-needed sleep by holding him tightly in his arms without hurting him too much. The warmth and comfort he felt were almost enough to lull him into a peaceful slumber. Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, he suddenly heard the annoying ringing of his phone. The sound was jarring in the quiet room, and he opened his eyes again, startled by the sudden noise, he noticed Seonghwa jump slightly in his arms. He gently reassured Seonghwa, whispering softly that nothing was wrong and that he should continue sleeping. With a sigh, he carefully reached for his phone to see who was calling, hoping it wasn't something urgent that would further disrupt their rest.

Jeong Yunho.

It was strange that he was calling at this hour, and if he was calling after the mission, it usually meant there was a problem with the mission. He sighed in annoyance and picked up the phone.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hyung, you need to come here immediately.”

The voice on the other end of the phone was anxious. It was hard to see Yunho anxious; he was always so sure of what he was doing and relaxed. Something was definitely wrong.

Hongjoong cursed at him when the phone abruptly hung up on him. Yunho always liked to make people curious and leave them hanging. As Hongjoong got out of bed and started getting dressed, he caught sight of Seonghwa’s anxious eyes. “Is someone in trouble again or are the police going to raid our house?” He could speak more comfortably now that the pain had subsided a little. “I don't know, he didn't say. Also, don’t bother your beautiful brain with such things. I’ll be back in a few hours. Make sure our princess doesn’t escape from the basement in the meantime. Otherwise, I won’t forgive you this time, Park Seonghwa. So, keep an eye on her and don't let your guard down again.”

It was absolutely impossible for someone upstairs with broken legs to check if someone in the basement had escaped, so Hongjoong carefully picked him up again before leaving the house and took him down to the basement. Although Seonghwa felt a deep sadness to leave the comfort of his bed and the warmth of Hongjoong’s arms, he was happy and relieved that he would now be able to keep an eye on you. Leaving the two of you in the brightly lit basement once more, Hongjoong made a mental note to get Seonghwa a pair of crutches on his way home. He then grabbed the bag containing his weapons and equipment, ensuring everything he needed was inside, and headed back to his car with a sense of urgency.

I wanna feedback juseyo♡ I wanna feedback please♡ I wanna feedback çebal♡

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Communication is good. It's wonderful, even! But screaming matches? Especially ones that last this long, aren't healthy in the slightest. In fact, all they do is damage relationships. So, after convincing Barbra and Tim to go upstairs, promising that he'd be up in a few minutes with Dick, he went back to where Bruce and Dick were screaming at each other.

Nothing had been thrown yet. Small mercies.

God, Danny hated being a mediator. Why couldn't people just work out their problems by talking? It'd make his life so much easier. Was that so hard to do? Too much to ask? Apparently.

"And you-!" Bruce rounded on Danny the second he closed the door behind him. "You don't get to come into my house and-"

"Let me stop you right there, Mister Wayne." A few days into his running away, Danny discovered a new power. He can't control it, but sometimes, when he's angry or needs people to shut up, the inside of his throat goes cold and his eyes narrow. It's really cool, from Danny's perspective, and pun fully intended. Something about Mister Wayne had brought that power to the surface, and thank the gods for that because Danny really needs to be listened to right now. "I told you earlier that my name was not a fight you wanted to pick. I think I should reword that. I am not a person you want to pick a fight with."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, meeting Danny's glare with his own. "Is that a threat?"

"Yes, Mister Wayne, that was a threat. And you can hold me to it. I will win any and every fight you try to pick with me."

Dick kept glancing between the two. He had a bad feeling about these two interacting like this, but something was stopping him from getting them apart.

"I have your name and your face. It won't be too hard to get you arrested for several crimes."

"Framing a child, Mister Wayne? Good luck with that. I don't exist anymore. Besides, I can threaten the same thing about Batman, and that holds significantly more weight than anything you could do to my name."

"If you're not scared, then you'll give me your whole name."

"That was a horrible fish for information, Mister Wayne. You're slipping. You must be getting rusty in your old age."

"Danny-"

"Dick." Danny held his hand out to his - on paper - responsible adult, "C'mon, Tim and Barbra are waiting for us upstairs."

Danny lead Dick out of the room, Bruce staying behind and obviously glaring at the back of Danny's head. When the door shut, Dick sighed, every bit of tension he hadn't felt melting off of him. "Sorry about him."

Danny shook his head. "Don't apologise, Dick, you didn't do anything to spark that. However," he glanced at him from the corner of his eye, still holding his hand, "Screaming matches aren't going to fix anything between you two. I don't know if you even want a relationship with him, but he's right. We came into his house, so it's up to us to be polite. You may be his kid, but you are a guest in his home until you two can form some kind of positive relationship. The hostility between y'all right now? That demotes you to 'house guest' instead of 'visiting child'. Got it?"

"..yeah."

"Good. Now, Tim and Barbra are waiting upstairs; go find them."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to go apologise to Alfred."

"Alfred? Why?"

"Bruce may claim this as his house, but Alfred's the one who takes care of it. It's his haunt, so I'm gonna go apologise for almost starting a fight."

"Um, alright..?"

***

Dick found himself wandering into the room that had been given to Tim. It was bare bones and barely looked used, but that's where he found Tim and Babs. He sat next to her.

"Where's Danny?" Tim asked.

"I- He's gone to talk to Alfred for a minute."

"Oh? Why?"

"I don't..he wasn't really clear on that."

"Oh."

The three lapsed into a silence that hovered somewhere between comfortable and uncomfortable. Tim was on his bed, messing with something on his phone, smiling occasionally or chuckling softly. Dick and Barbra sat together on the couch against the wall between the two windows. None of them spoke for a while.

It was a lon twenty minutes of sitting, doing nothing. Sometimes one of them shifted, but no conversation was made.

The door opened. "Wow. Did I end up in a graveyard or something? Y'all're quieter than the dead." The three flinched back as if struck. "Sorry, that was in poor taste." He closed the door behind him and sat on the foot of Tim's bed. "Seriously, though, why're y'all so quiet?"

"Waiting for you," Tim answered, "What'd you talk to Alfred about?"

Danny waved his hand in the air as if to physically dispel the words. "Nothing you need to worry about. Good news, though, I have a standing invitation to the Manor, so.."

"Is that a good idea?" Barbra asked, "You and B, well...You didn't really.."

"Yeah," he smiled, "Alfred's given me permission, and that's all I need. I won't be going with you guys to the Bat Cave, though."

"What?" Tim's voice pitched up a bit, "Why?"

"That's Mister Wayne's haunt. Because he doesn't like me, I'm not gonna risk even thinking about going down there."

"But you'll come and go from his house?"

"Yes."

"Weird."

"I don't make the rules, Timmy." Tim snorted softly. Barbra smiled.

"I hate to be the one to bring the mood down again," Dick said, "But why were you wanting to go to the Cave?"

"I just said I wasn't."

"Yeah, but why would you ever need to go down there?"

At this, Danny looked a bit sheepish, turning to look away from the others and rubbing the back of his neck. "Alfred said we're staying the night."

"What!" Dick shot up from his seat.

"Are you coming on patrol with us?" Barbra asked Dick, her eyes expectant.

Tim grinned. "That'd be so cool! You two should totally join us!"

Dick shook his head. "I really-" He cut himself off, making the mistake of looking Barbra and Tim in the eye. He sighed. "Alright, I'll join you guys for the night. But I don't answer to Bruce."

"Yay!"

"Wouldn't expect ya to."

"What about you, Danny?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I don't do the whole vigilante thing anymore."

"'Anymore'?" Babs raised her eyebrow, "That's a story I wanna hear."

He blushed. "It's really not,"

"You'll be on comms, though, right?" Tim wondered.

"I, um.... Sure. I'll join you guys on comms."

"Yes!"

"But I'm still not going into the Bat Cave."

Part 13 Part 15

[stuckysbike]

More Than One Valentine

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Stucky x Reader, Bucky x reader, Stucky, Steve x reader

AU: you finally get Steve and Bucky together- now you need to work out what to do with yourself abs your broken heart.

Warnings: angst, smut, 18 plus only please, fluff, FWB situation, presumed unrequited love, polyamory, MMF, bisexual Stucky, Dom!Bucky, sub!Steve, switch!reader

-

Bucky and Steve finally shared their first kiss on Valentine’s Day.

It was a bittersweet moment for you; you’d been trying to get them together for too long and now you had nothing to do, nowhere to go.

In a twisted and complicated situation you’d ended up as a FWB to both of them. It started with Bucky, a wet night with only his leather coat for shelter turned into desperate kissing and more. Then three months later he was on a mission and Steve had come in from a date in a terrible headspace.

You called Bucky because you didn’t know what else to do. Bucky’s advice was to screw Steve’s brains out.

“What?” You stuttered.

“He gets too into his head, you gotta’ help him clear it out doll,” Bucky said in that gruff tone.

“I - but - we-“

“Go ahead. I don’t mind sharing our arrangement with Stevie. Always shared everything with him anyway, you’re no different,” Bucky said as if you were an old coat or a favourite book.

It hurt, deep in your gut like a hand twisting it savagely, but you brushed it aside. You were just a couple of friends who tamed an itch. Bucky probably did it with lots of girls and guys. You weren’t his only one. You couldn’t be.

So you fell into a routine with them. If Steve had any reservations he didn’t share them and his mood changed, not just that night but overall. He was lighter, different like he had a plan again.

It was obvious they were in love, that they wanted each other. Everyone could see it, especially you. You spent most time with them, you saw the subtle touches, kind words and gentle gestures. You would find them making each other breakfast, or always making sure the other one was drinking enough water.

And the sex was …even? You never spent more time with one over the other. You went from one to the other than back.

Sometimes you didn’t even get to shower; after a night with Steve Bucky would drag you to his room in the morning to taste you while Steve went on a run. Sometimes Steve would come in after a long stint of being Captain America and bury his face in you pussy moments after Bucky had went to his own room.

“I can’t take it. They’re ruining my vagina,” you complained to Nat one evening after too many cocktails. The and my heart was left unspoken but you both knew it.

Nat had laughed anyway because in that moment you both needed to laugh. “Set them up.” She poured another drink. She wasn’t even following recipes any longer. It was shots of hard liquor that burned in the best way.

So you did, you made sure the floor you all shared was off limits, you lit candles and played soft music, dimmed the lights. You got your hands on some Asgardian Champagne, scattered rose petals and made sure both their bedrooms had ample supplies of lube and toys.

You made sure your own room had noise cancelling headphones, snacks and a queue of your favourite shows all lined up to make sure you didn’t think too much. Or hear too much.

You should have prepared for a broken heart.

Here they were after confessing their love and finally kissing as they stood in front of the massive windows. You were on the couch, you needed to start them off, convince them to take the leap, but as soon as they got lost in each other you stood and slipped away.

At least you tried to.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked, his voice small and vulnerable.

You froze and looked over your shoulder. They were both looking your way, faces unreadable.

“To give you both some privacy,” you said quietly.

“But we need to thank you,” Bucky’s voice was equally soft.

You offered them a smile, it was genuine because you were happy for them, you just realised too damn late that you’d fallen for both of them.

They walked towards you, a pair of supersoldiers, one beefy the other sculpted. One dark the other light.

Two pairs of blue eyes burned into your skin. You felt like crying, because it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen and all they were going to do was hug you then get on with their lives.

Bucky caught your hand and pulled you towards his body but he turned you so your back was to his chest.

“Say thank you Stevie,” he growled.

Steve immediately dropped his mouth to yours. The kiss was gentle, just a brush of his pink lips as they pressed into yours. He pulled away after the kiss that was not just friendly. “Thank you.” He had that sincere look, the honest voice.

Your heart broke a little more.

And then Bucky was turning you in his arms and looking down at you. Steve’s big hands rested on your hips as he held you in place for Bucky. Bucky was rougher than Steve, his lips pressed you harder more demanding making you weak at the knees.

Where Steve asked Bucky took.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, a tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Now where were we?”

And they started kissing over your shoulder. They moved close crushing your body between theirs, hands holding you still as they explored each others mouths.

You gasped and tried to slip away but you were trapped. You tried harder only for them to part and Bucky looked at you with hard eyes.

“Stop squirming doll, I’m kissing on my fella and you’re distracting me. You’ll get your turn.” You gaped up at Bucky but his focus was back on Steve. “Come ‘ere you.”

You could hear the wet noises of their kisses, could feel their physical reactions as you stood trapped between their hard bodies.

When they pulled apart for air you found yourself turned back to Steve and he was kissing you, desperate now as he licked into your mouth. He let out a needy moan as he lifted you and you had no choice but to wrap your legs around him.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” Bucky growled. His hands were on your hips and ass and it took you a moment to realise you were moving towards Steve’s bedroom.

Steve fell back on his bed and looked up at you with doe eyes, lips parted and pure trust. And something else you couldn’t place. You were straddling his waist when the bedroom door clicked shut.

“Don’t mind me,” Bucky sat on the chair in the corner, and you looked between them. Maybe this was one last night with them, and you would make it count before they got on with the rest of their lives without you.

In the bedroom Steve was submissive. It had surprised you at first; but it made sense. Steve carried the universe on his shoulders sometimes so it was natural that he’d want to forget. So you were what he needed you to be. You took charge, took care of him, made it so that he didn’t need a plan or a rousing speech in the bedroom.

Bucky was dominant, that didn’t surprise you at all. He needed control, where he’d been tortured before now he thrived in giving pleasure in making decisions, on taking care of his lovers. You let him take care of you, you basked in and enjoyed it. You loved the attention.

And you were the perfect switch between them giving each of them what they needed.

You bit your lip, nerves running through you but you pushed it aside to try and enjoy one last night with them both.

“Colour?” You asked.

“Green!” Steve said urgently.

“Steve, take your clothes off,” you said. Steve immediately sat up and unbuttoned his shirt slowly, looking between you and Bucky but you clicked your tongue and Steve’s eyes flew to you. “Eyes on me baby, you have him all to yourself soon enough.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunched and Bucky shifted in his chair but you stayed still watching Steve. He folded his shirt then toed his shoes off, and as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops he looked down at you, holding it between big hands.

Bucky sucked in a breath as you nodded and Steve set the belt on the bed for later. He sat and removed his socks then his pants.

Once upon a time his cheeks would have been red by this point but Steve had gotten past that, he trusted you and with his attention on you the fact that Bucky was sitting right there didn’t even phase him.

His boxer briefs were navy blue, and it was obvious he was aroused by the whole situation. He looked at you as he thumbed the waistband.

“Won’t be much fun with them on will it Soldier?” You teased and his cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink before he started to push them down. “Eyes on me.” You reminded him and his confidence returned.

And then Steve was naked, standing tall and proud and fully erect. You looked at Bucky and he was watching the two of you with something that looked like pride.

“Why don’t you get your ring, plug and the lube?” You suggested to Steve.

Bucky groaned and you glanced over at him as Steve scrambled across the bed to grab what he wanted from underneath. “Do you want to cut in?”

Bucky smiled, warm and genuine and for a second your breath caught. “Yes,” he said softly. “But not yet. I’m dying to see where this goes.”

When you turned back to the bed Steve was kneeling in the middle, eyes wide and wet lips parted. “You look like a horny puppy.” You told him and it made him laugh.

You didn’t say anything else as you removed your clothes and Steve settled down to watch you, waiting patiently with his hands in his lap.

When you got to your bra and panties you hesitated but Bucky’s soft voice rang in your ears. “All of it.”

You looked over at him, making eye contact to acknowledge you’d heard him then nodded, holding his gaze.

You removed your bra, then panties and Steve let out a gentle moan.

“On your back baby,” you told Steve. He complied immediately and lay back, spreading his long legs so you could settle between his thighs. He handed you a pillow and you thanked him with a kiss to the lips then helped him place it under his hips. “Do you want your belt?”

Steve nodded eagerly and you handed it to him. Steve lay back with his arms stretched above his head holding the belt in his hands.

“Colour?” You checked.

“Green,” Steve said.

“Steve is such a good boy that he stays like that until he’s told to move,” you told Bucky. “Well, most of the time.”

Bucky laughed softly and you drew your focus back to Steve. Bending you kissed his thighs, nipping at sensitive skin. As you moved closer Steve moaned and gasped until finally you were pressing a chaste kiss to the base of his cock.

You kissed lower until your tongue reached his tightly furled ass, and then with wet licks you proceeded to help him relax. You didn’t notice Bucky get out of his chair, not until you saw the black vibranium hand resting on Steve’s knee.

You pulled away and looked up at him. “Too much for you?”

“Christ Dolly you’re killing me,” Bucky’s voice was rough with arousal.

You giggled and got back to your task. It wasn’t long before you were sitting up and drizzling lube on your fingers. You warmed it up then pressed two against his puckered hole.

“The lube is edible and flavoured. Steve likes his asshole eaten,” you said conversationally to Bucky.

Steve whined and you grinned up at him. You shuffled closer and took the tip of his cock into your mouth, licking the pre-cum and sucking the skin as you curled your fingers. Steve cried out and you took him deeper, breathing through your nose as he filled your throat. You loved this, Steve at your mercy as you pleasured him.

When you finally felt the hairs at the base of his cock tickle your nose you pulled back and reached for the cock ring. “He doesn’t really need this, he has a refractory period just like yours but sometimes he’s over eager. He can get…messy.”

Steve moaned softly, hearing you talk about him as if he wasn’t there was driving him insane in the best way.

“You know him well,” Bucky praised. He was right behind you now looking over your shoulder, still fully clothed apart from his shoes and socks. You hadn’t noticed him taking them off.

You reached for the plug next, it was a smaller one, black, with a flared base. It slipped in easily but Steve moaned and arched his back. You turned it slowly and watched his chest heave.

“How do you feel?” You asked Steve.

He nodded and met your eyes. “I feel yeah-“

“Colour?” You asked.

“Green,” Steve practically slurred.

You chuckled and then settled back onto your haunches. Bucky looked at you curious for your next move.

“He’s all yours,” you whispered looking up at him.

A big hand cupped your cheek and he kissed you softly. “He’s all ours Doll.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you wished that were true but you pushed the hope away. This was about getting them together. Nothing else.

Bucky kissed you, his movements lazy but dominating and he gripped your soft skin. His hand slipped between your legs and you’d been able to ignore your needs until now but as soon as his fingertip brushed your slick puffy lips you sighed and leaned into Bucky. His other hand moved to your hair and he fisted it just enough to pull your head back. “I’m so proud of you. Watching you with Steve, so proud of both of you.”

You felt the blood warm your cheeks at his praise and snuggled against him.

“Now, I’m going to undress. I want you to get a reward for being so good to Stevie, what do you say Steve?” Bucky asked easily taking over the room.

Steve nodded eagerly. “Yes, please, baby, sit on my face?”

“Yeah, I want to see that. Go sit on his face baby,” Bucky kissed you again. You did as he asked, turning so you could watch him. Steve didn’t let go of the belt as his tongue dove inside your folds, lapping and sucking at your juices.

Steve moaned and Bucky’s sharp eyes zeroed in on you. “Hovering baby girl? That’s against the rules,” Bucky warned.

Steve moaned again and you chuckled, giving Bucky a bright smile. “I know he’s been good, but he has to earn it,” you teased.

Bucky smiled softly and removed his black boxer briefs and then he was kneeling between Steve’s spread legs. He skimmed his fingers along the sensitive skin on Steve’s thighs and you could see Steve tremble. You close that moment to rest your full weight on him for a few seconds, knowing he needed it.

His moans vibrated through you and then Bucky was kissing you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Bucky touched Steve and every time he cried out or trembled you rested your weight onto him, calming him.

And then Bucky was bringing the plug out, replacing it with his fingers. His eyes flicked up to you as Steve sucked on your clit.

“Cum baby,” Bucky said. You didn’t even know you were waiting for permission. You cried out as your release washed through you, making your toes curl. As you came down from your high Bucky kissed you. “Now go clean him up.”

You moved fast, straddling Steve’s tummy and kissing over his face, licking into his mouth. You were so busy kissing Steve you almost missed the deep groan he let out. Two hands, one warm and one cold lifted your hips and then Steve’s cock was sliding snugly into your soaked cunt.

“I’m going to fuck both of you now,” Bucky warned.

“Please Bucky,” you whined.

Bucky’s hand slid into your hair and he grabbed a thick fistful as he pulled you back against his chest.

“Look at you,” Bucky growled in your ear as his other hand slid around your throat. His nimble fingers trailed your body, plucking at your nipples, squeezing soft flesh, tickling your hips and exploring the area where you and Steve were joined. “Our perfect girl.”

“Bucky,” you turned to him squeezing your thighs. Beneath you Steve grunted as you squeezed his cock, his eyes never leaving you and Bucky.

“Colour?” Bucky asked you.

“So fuckin’ green!” You said.

“Stevie, baby I need you to hold onto her, make sure she has some support. Hands up,” he said.

Steve let go of the belt and raised his hands, palms up and fingers wide. “Good boy baby,” Bucky praised. You reached out and pressed your palms to Steve’s, let your fingers tangle and lock together.

Steve tested the pressure, moving you slightly and you couldn’t help but giggle as he practically used you as a weight, lowering you to kiss his lips then pushing you back to Bucky’s chest.

Bucky let out a soft laugh at the two of you and hooked his chin over your bare shoulder. “Show off,” he said to Steve. Steve, in a happy headspace blew him a kiss.

Bucky started off gentle, his thrusts going through Steve and into you. Bucky was taking his time, working out this new position as he managed both of you.

His hands returned to your body, his fingers strumming over your body. He knew every nerve, knew what made you sigh and squeal, what relaxed you and what wound you up.

With a palm on your back he pushed you forward until you were lying on Steve’s chest. His right hand gripped your butt cheek, moulding the flesh and you knew it was coming but you still yelped.

Steve grunted, you were squeezing his cock again. “Do you know why I’m spanking you?” Bucky’s voice cut through your brain fog and you nodded.

“I broke a rule,” you slurred. Steve kissed your cheek and forehead as he simply observed. “I hovered.”

Bucky grunted in agreement and a few more slaps landed on you. “You had a good reason though so I think that’ll do.”

Bucky’s hands moved over your back as he curled over you both. His right hand cupped Steve’s cheek. Kissing each other in this position would be impossible so he ran his thumb over Steve’s lips. Steve opened his mouth and sucked Bucky’s thumb in. Bucky groaned at the sight and the sensation.

“You good there Sweetheart?” Bucky asked him.

Steve’s smile was dopey, despite Bucky’s digit in his way and he nodded, his eyes shining. “Never better.”

The words were garbled but easily understood none the less. As Bucky pulled away he kissed your cheek.

Bucky started to thrust again and you moved back to sit on Steve, that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel the cock ring. Bucky must have removed it from Steve and you were grateful because you didn’t think you had the ability to remove it at this point. You were a soft Dom, you didn’t like delaying or preventing orgasms, you were too needy yourself.

You kissed Steve’s chest and face as Bucky fucked him and Steve sobbed into your mouth when your lips met. Bucky’s movements were getting more aggressive and Steve was gasping and thrashing in pleasure.

“Is he good?” You prompted.

“So good, I’m - it’s - he’s amazing,” Steve said.

“Shush, baby hush, he’ll hear you and his ego will be insufferable,” you teased.

Bucky laughed, his hand sliding around your throat and pulling you back to his chest. “So rude,” he grunted as he kissed you, his fingers finally brushing over your clit.

Steve came first after you clenched around his cock, your body chasing Bucky’s fingers, and you followed a few moments behind him. The familiar stutter of Bucky’s breathing told you he’d found his release too.

“You two will be the death of me,” he said as he kissed your neck and shoulders and helped you untangle yourself from Steve.

A warm cloth was cleaning you, hands were moving you and you realised Steve was getting the same treatment as he sighed in contentment.

Bucky got into bed on the other side of Steve and smiled softly at you both.

“I should go,” you said suddenly.

“No!” They both said at once.

You shifted. “But I- this was about you two.”

Steve pulled you on top of him then rolled over, pinning you between him and Bucky. “Going nowhere.”

Bucky chuckled. “Darlin’ we’re crazy about you, if you haven’t noticed. I know you like to talk about feelings and stuff but we’re doing this my way. You’re my best girl, he’s my best guy, we’ll work it out from there.”

You opened your mouth but your words betrayed you so instead you snuggled into their arms and enjoyed their warmth. Maybe this could work, maybe the three of you could find peace.

“Besides,” Steve yawned, “you negate our stupid.”

You giggled. Bucky slid a leg between yours and rested his hand on Steve’s chest.

Meanwhile deep inside your own chest your heart sang.

[savingcrxws]

EYES ON FIRE | maybe someday

[ prev chap ] [ next chap ]

synopsis. you and carmen just keep bumping into each other.

word count. 4.3k (gah damn)

warnings. language, hardly proofread again i'm sorry its an addiction

authors note. thank u guys so much for the support in these previous chapters! it’s really amazing to me that u guys enjoyed it so much! i would recommend listening to maybe someday by the cure for this chapter!

“Yeah, Sugar. The appointment is booked for Thursday, the reps will probably be coming in at like…three o’clock,” you mutter, flipping through the manila folder absolutely stuffed with documents and sticky notes. 

You pursue your lips at all you had to get done within this week alone–sign installation permit, permit to replace the hot water heater, permit to fix the ventilation systems, reapply for occupancy capacity signs because of the restaurants lack of other permits, and holy shit…

You completely forgot to schedule the follow-up appointment with the BACP consultant. 

You groan, slamming the thick folder into your forehead, the papers thwacking against your skull. Natalie sounds startled on the other end of the phone, no doubt hearing the sound on her end of the call. She questions if you’re okay, and you only respond with a gentle hum before tossing the folder back down on the office table. 

“Hey, Suge, do you think I can call you back later? I need to schedule a follow-up consultation with Raquel before another rep hops on my ass about the boiler replacement.” 

“Of course, hun, call me back whenever you can,” Sugar starts and you can hear some papers flicking in her side of the call as well.

You had managed to convince her to work from home more often, worried that all the stress from the demolition inside would affect her pregnancy and her overall wellbeing. After some back and forth, she had begrudgingly agreed to spend two days working on the project from the comfort of her own couch. 

And even though she complains still, you know she appreciates she has a little bit more time off of her feet. 

“Don’t work yourself too hard, okay, Bug?” 

You nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “Same for you, Bear.” Sugar hums once again before you both give your goodbyes and end the call. 

You expel all of the air out of your chest in a large puff as you slide down the office chair.

After signing onto Team Bear, your new home-away-from-home had been this tiny office in the back of the restaurant. For the most part, no one came in and disrupted your work, which allowed you to have your head shoved into piles of paperwork, be stuck on phone calls, and be forced to reread legal jargon for hours on end with little interruption. 

Well, as little interruption as there could be with the restaurant quite literally falling apart around you. 

Thankfully, everyone was very respectful of your work in helping the developing business. You were practically putting every ounce of knowledge that you learned from both college and the real-world experience (including connections within the industry) to help push the restaurant closer to the deadline. All the while still dealing with your other commitments to other businesses that you had prior to signing on to this project.

Staying at The Bear for eight hours a day had its benefits, though.

For example, there was always something entertaining going on in the background. Like last Tuesday, when Fak had decided to send a sledgehammer directly into the only remaining wall of the office–sending bits and pieces of drywall onto your clothes.

Another benefit of being stuck in that office chair is that you had an excuse to ignore everyone around you. And by everyone, you really mean Carmen.

After the awkward office run-in last week, the two of you hardly spoke to each other. Sure, there was the ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ that you threw to each other and the words you exchanged when you caught him up on the status of licensing, but you two had yet to have an actual conversation.

It was clear that the both of you were still walking on eggshells around each other—and everyone could see it. But you had an inkling feeling that Carmen had been wanting to say something, judging by the short glances you sometimes catch him throwing in your direction.

Kinda similar to the one that he’s giving you right now.

You feel the heat of his stare on your face before you see it. He’d been staring at you for a couple moments now, long enough for you to no longer consider it an inquisitive glance.

You peek up from the folder and make solid eye contact with Carmen through the hole in the wall. The man flushes almost immediately, the red color sinking past his collar. You purse your lips and give a small nod of acknowledgment and he stutters in his spot.

And then he’s turning away.

Like he wasn’t the one just staring at you a moment ago.

You roll your eyes and turn back to your original position in the seat. Picking the folder up again, you flick to the papers listing the requirements for the next fire suppression test.

“Men,” you mutter, before picking up your phone and making a phone call.

Three days later, the office is completely demolished and your work revolving around The Bear has been moved to a family-owned coffee shop two blocks over.

In the short span of time, all of the walls in the store had been busted down and the restaurant had practically turned into a hazardous wasteland. And since construction was too far out of your pay grade, you decided to leave the heavy lifting up to everyone else.

“Alright, permit done!” You throw your hands up in the air, your theatrics catching the attention of a couple next to you. You could hardly care for the stares, though, you had been working on getting that permit for the past four days straight. Slamming your laptop shut, you pack up your bags and head off to the cash register to buy another coffee before you go.

While you wait for your drink, you decide to scroll aimlessly through your phone to kill some time.

“Oh shit,” you hear a voice utter behind you, and you barely have time to process the word before something ice cold is running down your back. “Fuck, I’m fucking sorry, I didn’t even see you—“

You gasp on reflex, taking a step forward and shivering. The person who spilled their drink on you is stuttering out apologies. The liquid seeps into the jacket you were wearing and you pull it off immediately.

“Yo, what the fuck, dude,” you curse, watching the large stain of coffee spread even farther across your jacket. “Watch where the hell you’re walking—”

In the middle of trying to give the perpetrator a piece of your mind, you failed to recognize the familiar sound of the voice that was spewing apology out of apology. But in a second, your eyes met a recognizable set of blue and you halted your words.

In front of you stands Carmen Berzatto. In his signature colored sweater and a half-spilled cup of coffee in his hand.

And he looks petrified.

It seems he didn’t realize just who was the unlucky victim to his americano attack either until you turned around. His mouth agape, he utters out a jumbled apology, glancing back at you, your stained jacket, and the cup in his hand like his brain was still trying to understand what just happened.

“Uh-uh, fuck, sorry, I swear this wasn’t on purpose,” he rambles, placing his cup on the counter behind you and grabbing some napkins right after. He steps back towards you and shoves his hand of napkins to you. “Here, shit, I’m so sorry.”

You sigh, taking the napkins from him, noting the slight tremor that persisted in his hands as you did so. Taking in a slow breath, you close your eyes and count to ten before responding. “It’s okay, Carmen. Don’t worry about it.”

And even though you tried to maintain your peace, you can hear the annoyance seeping out of your words. Carmen glances around the counter before looking back at you and your soaked jacket. You know he probably wants to apologize some more, but honestly, one more apology might land him with a punch to the gut. 

Just as he opens his mouth, you raise your free hand, silencing him immediately. You shake your head in dismissal before taking the napkins offered to you and blotting the coffee out of the fabric of your jacket. Carmen simply stood in his place, watching you, seeing if he could do anything to redeem himself in this situation. 

However, after they called your name for your drink order, you dumped the used napkins in the trash, took your drink and hightailed it out of the café without one more word to the man. 

After the coffee shop incident, you swear that you started to see Carmen everywhere. 

You needed a quiet place to plan outside of your house so you went to one of the local libraries. Guess who’s walking outside the building?

You need a late night snack and decide to hit up the corner store. Guess who’s in the refrigerated section?

Hell, you decide to stay late at The Bear for some last minute checkups? Guess who forgot to grab a few things before leaving that night?

You swear that before you hopped on The Bear train, you never even saw a glimpse of the man. Sure, you lived relatively near the restaurant, but Chicago is fucking huge, there’s no way you would run into one of the few people that you’re trying to avoid. 

Absolutely not, apparently. 

Finally finishing up the weekly budget report and estimate for the following weeks till open, you decide to take a step away from work for a second and give your brain some time to breath. 

“Hey, Syd, if anyone needs me, I’m outside taking a smoke break, ‘kay,” you yell across the restaurant, receiving a thumbs up from her from the other side of the room. “Be back in 15!”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter before heading to the back entrance of the restaurant. You place the cigarette between your lips and head to the backdoor. Stepping out and around the alley to the designated smoke corner, you fiddle with the lighter switch, hearing the light sizzle but seeing no flames emerge. 

You groan, flicking the lighter again and again and still no lig–

“Umm, uh, you need a light?”

You scream, your heart almost skipping a beat and falling out on the concrete below you. In your alarm, both your cigarette and the lighter drop on to the ground. "Shit," you mutter and throw a glance over at whoever had scared the living shit out of you and, surprise suprise . . .

There was Carmen, standing in the alley a few feet away from the door. One leg was kicked up to rest his foot against the wall behind him and a cigarette hung loosely between his fingers. His eyes trailed across you for a second, then he glanced at the cigarette on the ground before taking another draw from his own and staring out the wall in front of him.

If you had half of the energy, you would tell him off for scaring the shit out of you and book it out of the enclosed space.

Lucky for Carmen, however, you really needed that cigarette.

Reaching back into your bag once more, you pull out another cig and walk slowly over to the man. Your steps gain his attention once again and when your eyes met you gestured to the lighter hanging out of his cooking apron.

He grabs the lighter and hands it to you. As you reach out to grab it, your fingers brush against his knuckles. Some quick thought in the back of your head wishes that that physical interaction lasted a little longer, but you're quick to shoo that away into the deep recesses of your mind.

Lighting your cigarette, you hand the lighter back to him before taking a drag. Blowing the smoke out, you slid down the wall until you could lean back into a squat against it.

The two of you just stand there, in complete silence aside from the occasional cough from an improper pull. This quiet isn't nearly as awkward as the first run-in the two of you had. Maybe it's because of the nicotine or maybe it's because continuously running into Carmen over these past days had subconsciously made you a little more comfortable with his presence.

. . .

Nah, it definitely had to be the nicotine.

You glance up at Carmen, who continues to smoke even though his stick had turned into a bud a while ago. You make note of the new tattoos that run down his arms and hands, eyes stopping at the rose flower tattoo on his left hand.

You remember when he got that one done with you at the parlor for his eighteenth birthday.

Subconsciously, you rub at the matching rose on your thigh before sighing and focusing back on your cigarette. Young, dumb decisions, you think.

Above you, Carmen watches your focus retreat back and purses his lips. In all honesty, Carmen usually never finishes a whole cigarette, but he really needed an excuse to stay out here longer with you.

These past couple of days had been tormenting him just as much as it had been you, albeit for different reasons. Everytime Carmen ran into you, whether it be in that cafe or that random grocery store that one early morning, he was plagued with memories of everything that he had fucked up.

Not just the relationship that he had fucked, but the happiness that he had stolen from the both of you.

And he had so desperately been trying to apologize, but every time you saw his face, you would get that look on your own. That dread, the anxiousness, that annoyance. That anger.

Whenever he saw that expression on your face, he would get too choked up to say anything of significance. A simple 'hey" would be all that would leave his mouth. Either that or he would stutter like he was a fucking kid again and embarrass himself in front of you like he seems to be doing constantly lately.

Carmen sighs, taking a final hit from his cigarette before stomping it out on the ground. By all previous experience, Carmen would book it out of the area by now, but something in his gut was telling him to stay this time.

Glancing down at you once more, he sees that you have taken to scrolling through your phone to kill the time. He bites the corner of his lip and decides to sit against the wall like you.

Instinctively, you toss him a questioning glance but when he didn't make any move to speak or gesture towards you, you shook your head and went back to whatever video had popped up on your feed.

Fuck it, he thought.

"I'm sorry."

You halt in the middle of your smoke, nearly coughing on the fumes but managing to swallow it. You look over at Carmen inquisitively, wondering where the hell that apology came from. The dirty blonde was wringing his hands, mouth opening and shutting as if he was trying to get the words out.

"Sorry for the, uh," he mutters, casting a quick glance in your direction to assure himself that you were listening. "Sorry for the, for uh-You know I didn't-I don't know how-"

"Yo, Carmen," you interrupt the world vomit that he was spewing, tossing your cigarette down before snuffing out the light with your shoe. You center your focus back on the man next to you, who seemed to only have you in his attention. "Just say what you want to say. No bullshit."

Your blunt words seem to ground Carmen long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He nods his head rapidly in that way he does when he's clearly overwhelmed before he clears his throat. He takes in a large inhale and clears his throat, ready to speak again.

"I want to apologize. For everything. For how much of an jackoff I was back then, and for how much I am right now," Carmen stars, eyes staring solidly into yours to show just how serious he is. "I didn't deserve you, and you did nothing to deserve the way that we ended."

You feel something burn the back of your throat at the mention of the end of your relationship. The total radio silence from him for the days prior, and just when you had managed to gather the courage to ask the question of just what the hell are we doing, Carmy, you were cast aside like nothing.

He was right, you didn’t deserve that.

Pushing back the feelings bubbling up in your chest, you nod your head to signal that you were listening.

"I-I, it's no excuse, but I was really going through some serious shit. And I really felt that if I cut everyone out of my life, I could actually get a second to breathe you know," Carmen pauses and you open your mouth to speak, but he continues. "I-I just know you deserved-you deserve better. But seeing you in this restaurant day-in and day-out, working away to help my sister, my crew--help me? I just felt even more like a piece of shit."

He turns fully towards you now and you can see his eyes turning red from the emotion he was clearly holding behind his words. "You didn't deserve what I did, and you definitely don't deserve to be cleaning up my messes now."

"You deserved the world, and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you."

His last words send a sharp pang into your chest. Here you two sat, sitting next to each other, the distance between you two seemed to be filled with words unsaid. You stare into his eyes a little longer, at a loss for what to say completely.

On one hand, you wanted to reject his apology, tell him to fuck off and leave him alone in this alleyway. He would deserve it after everything.

But he has that familiar kicked puppy-dog look in his eyes and he's chewed his lip red, and he's actually sorry.

You sigh, leaning your head back to rest against the wall behind you. Staring up at the sky, you trace the shapes of the clouds above as you collect your thoughts.

"Yeah," you start, nodding your head to yourself. Carmen tenses up at the ambiguity behind both your words and your tone. He would have to have his own head shoved up his ass if he didn't realize that you had every right to refuse his plea for forgiveness. Frankly, that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.

"Yeah, okay. I can forgive you, Berzatto."

Carmen's heart sinks into his guts, mouth slightly agape in pure shock. "You-you can?"

You give a small smile, turning your head to face the man. "Yeah, Carmen, I accept your apology."

The dirty blonde opens his mouth again but you put a hand up in the space between you, effectively shutting him up for a second.

"But," you trail, "I'm gonna forward you that dry cleaning bill from that cafe, asshat. I've been trying to get that shit out for days now."

Carmen flushes a bright red at the mention of the coffee shop run-in you two had, a broken chuckle leaving his mouth at the obvious teasing tone in your voice. You were joking with him, for the first time in years, you two had managed to glimpse at the level of comfortability that you once shared.

Carmen chuckles again, running a hand through his curls. "Yeah, well, can I raincheck that until after the restaurant starts making money? I'm kinda flat fucking broke right now."

You giggle at the honesty behind his words. "Yeah, I ran those calculations by the way. Have fun being flat broke for at least three months after The Bear opens."

"Shit," Carmen mutters, a grin still on his face.

"Yeah, shit." You nod in his direction before pushing yourself off your crouched position on the ground. "Anyway, I'm gonna head inside to get back on that shit. Fak's fucking electric guy keeps flaking on us."

Carmen's eyes follow your form as you stand, holding eye contact with you when you glance back down at him. "Yeah, yeah, I should probably meet up with Syd for the chaos menu anyway."

He hurriedly stands up, wiping his hands on his work pants. After he finishes, he looks at you once again, noting the small smile on your face. For a second, he swears his heart skips a beat.

"For the record, Carmy," you play with the nickname on your tongue, having not said it in quite some time. Carmen flushes before nodding for you to continue. The small on your face falls for a second as you look at him. "You pull that shit with me again, I'm sicking the dogs on your ass. Seriously."

Carmen clears his throat, straightening up at the more serious tone of your voice. Although you were not nearly as angry looking at him as before, he knew that you were serious. There were no more apologies after this, no more fuckups.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for some form of acknowledgment.

He nods. "Yes, chef."

After the conversation outside The Bear, you and Carmen seemed to flow together much easier than before. Granted there was the occasional stray glance casted in your direction from the man, but overall, the two of you were on much more agreeable terms.

The rest of the crew seemed to notice the absence of uncertain tension between the two of you. You explained to Tina, Richie, and Sugar that you two had simply talked it out and were no longer on "spiteful ex" terms.

Richie, being the annoying man that he is, insisted that something else must've happened--to which you responded with a firm shoulder check and yet another middle finger.

Overall, the two of you seemed to only talk about business stuff, which made it easier for conversations to flow. Less personal, more concrete talks.

"Alright, Carmy, we got that certificate of occupancy, right?" You question, running down the legal checklist once again. When you heard no response, you asked again, only to be ignored again. Finally looking up from your screen, you glance up at the man, trying to figure out what could have possibly distracted him this time.

He's glancing, moreso glaring, down at his phone, watching it ring but making no moves to pick it up. He's spaced out almost, like he's lost in his thoughts.

You clear your throat and decide to try his name again. "Carmen!"

He shoots up a little and looks at you, muttering an apology out as he clicks his phone off and slides it into his back pocket. "What were you asking?"

"Umm, I was trying to see if you got that certificate of occupancy from Cicero mailed in," you raise an eyebrow at him. "You know, the one we need to get that other big, shiny certificate that shows that we can legal conduct business in the state of Illinois? That certificate?"

"Uhh, yeah, yeah. Mailed it in the other day, yeah."

You squint at his weird responses before shaking your head and diving back into your work. "Well, on another note, I've been speaking with a liason down at the office and he said we can have our second fire suppression test in two weeks instead of the project four."

Carmen walks up to the foldable chair you were sitting in, peering over your shoulder to look at your screen. He rests his hand against the back of your chair unconsciously and you can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You clear your throat and lean forward a little to get some distance between the two of you.

"Who's that going to?" The man points to an email that you are in the middle of drafting. Your eyes follow and land on the email you were writing to one of your school buddies. "Oh that? I'm just messaging one of my old classmates from college about an idea I had about our issues with that retail food license thing."

Carmen humms, peeking down at you as you explained the process you were thinking of going through. Though your eyes were stuck on the screen, clicking through different documents as you continued your explanation, Carmen's eyes were glued to your face.

To him, this all felt like some weird dream that he was having. His former high school sweetheart, sitting in his restaurant, talking all kinds of smart talk that he could barely understand, practically pressed against him. Although he didn't move over to your chair with the intent to press against you, he definitely noticed the proximity that you two shared.

Life had been a whirlwind these past weeks, but he felt that when he was near you that a lot of those anxieties he often has screaming in his head quieted down a little. He tried to chalk it up to the confidence that he had in your skills, but even though you are incredibly talented in your work, he knew that it was something more than that.

Something that he had to swallow down.

"Carmy, you motherfucker, are you even listening to me?" You call out, turning more in your chair and fixing him with an annoyed glare. Carmen swallows before nodding his head. "Ye-yeah, you have a plan to get that retail food license and alcohol seller's license at once right?"

You hum, giving him a once over again before turning in your seat. "Exactly. I think that my buddy Stephen can help us with that fire suppression test, he knows a thing or two--"

Carmen's eyes trace down your eyes, nose, and lips, noting the signature bite marks you left on your bottom one. He runs a tongue across his own before carding a hand through his hair to collect himself.

He was so fucked.

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*if ur @ is striked thru, tumblrs being a pain and not letting tag, imma keep trying tho!!

[natailiatulls07]

could i request some leclerc!reader and so comfort with charles please

It's okay

Arthur Leclerc Charles Leclerc Lorenzo Leclerc Pascale Leclerc & Leclerc!reader

Summary - In order to find her way in life, Y/n Leclerc runs away in the dead of night only leaving a note

Warning - neglection, running away

-

Growing up with three older brothers and two of such competing in karting competions, life was hard for Y/n Leclerc. Pascale and Hervé invested lots of their money and energy into Arthur and Charles.

When she was seven, Y/n's interest in ballet started. The young girl had her heart set on being a professional ballerina. So thats what she did. Y/n convince Pascale to enrol her in ballet class.

From then on, she became more and more talented. Quickly becoming the top of class. Yet when recitals came round and she was the lead, the only person who came to watch was Lorenzo.

The rest of the family were out at karting competitions cheering on Charles and Arthur. Yes they would apolgise to Y/n for their absence but to her it never really felt quite right.

-

Y/n was 14 years old, life got harder. Karting turned to formula 2 and E. Lorenzo now building his own life, he moved out of the house.

And the worst of all, Hervé Leclerc passed away. This meant attention was limited, Pascale was busy. She had her salon to run, she was running around supporting the two boys racing and she was mourning the lose of her partner.

As much as he wanted to support Y/n during her recitals, Lorenzos life became busier and he could no longer come along each recital. She felt as though no one her family could see her or her talent.

So what did she do? Y/n collected enough money to enrol herself into a ballet academy. In the dead of night she packed just enough and left without a sound. Of course she couldn't leave without leaving a note, she loved her family.

Dear Maman, Charlie and Arthur, I love you all dearly, please don't worry about me. I will be gone for a while, Lo Lo knows where I will be but please do not pester him. Thank you for everything and more Love from your dearest daughter, Y/n xx

-

Y/n Leclerc was a sensation, one of the best of her age. She was a household name, even if you weren't that well educated on ballet you knew who this elegant women was.

However, it was rare for the ballerina to speak publicily, Espercially as many would ask of her surname and family relations. And it wasn't hard to understand why.

"So Y/n please tell me, any relation to formula one driver Charles Leclerc?"

"No comment, thank you"

Charles, Arthur, Pascale and Lorenzo watched on, following her social media through burner accounts not wanting to make this harder for Y/n.

They could see how she spent most of her time dancing, spending time to herself or getting cocktails with friends she made along the way.

~

yourusername

Week in my life...

Spending time alone, you must prioritize self care

Fruit cocktails with friends, the key to my heart

Looking after the minis, they're the cutest little things

Lounging on my sofa after a long day of rehearsals, it is tiring!

Liked by cl_2648749 and 146,283 others

comments are limited

username Gorg gorg girlie

cl_2648749 <3

username I so wanna be her friend omfggg

~

But she wasn't stupid, Y/n knew who those burner accounts were. Every single post, the burner accounts were there front and center. She felt their eyes on her, it was silly really but she constantly felt like they were watching her.

However, Y/n felt warm with that in mind. Like they were finally noticing her for the first time. No longer was she fighting for the attension with her two older brothers. But was it just online? If she were to go back, would it go back to how it was before.

Plus she had built up a life on ballet. Y/n made a family with her friends. Everyone knew her, fuck she is a household name hiding her Leclerc identity from the world, even herself.

-

"I think it's a good idea! It's been long overdue in my opinion"

"No. We need to work to her choices, not make her uncomfortable."

"Okay when?!" Charles throws his arms in the air with frustration. He was pacing in front of the television; Arthur, Pascale and Lorenzo all sat on the sofa watching him.

The topic of Y/n came up in passing by Arthur and it became much more. Charles was fighting, he was desperate to get his dear little sister back home. However Lorenzo, knowing how Y/n felt about everything, was fighting back and trying to prioritize her feelings.

The constant pacing stopped abruptly, and Charles turned to look at Lorenzo with a harsh glare. "Why do you want to so desperately work to her choices? Are you in contact with her?" You could hear a penny drop.

Eyes snapped over to the oldest boy, all confused and harsh. Lorenzo sunk into himself. "I um..." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Yeah um so I kept contact with her yes"

"Is she okay?" The first question Pascale asked. Years of guilt plagued her mind, she neglected her own daughter and she was now paying the price for that.

Lorenzo nodded. "Yes, she's okay...Y/n she um built up a family through her friends and as you know she is doing well for herself..." A small proud smile morphed onto his face, he was proud of her for doing this for herself.

"Does she hate us for what we did?"

He breathed in and out. "No, she doesn't hate any of us...she understands completely..." That did ease some guilt for the other three, it would of killed them to know that she hated them, her own family.

There was silence for a couple of minutes whilst they all fell into their own thoughts. And then Pascale spoke up again. "Can you at least text her or call her whatever...talk to her, please tell her that we love her and that we want to see her again...we're so so proud and sorry"

Arthur and Charles both nodded in agreement. "I'll see what I can do..." Lorenzo promised.

-

It seemed that the next time they would see Y/n would come round much soon than expected. It wasn't planned, totally sporadic.

Charles was in the kitchen, in Lorenzos apartment. He was scrolling through his phone when there was a ring coming from Lorenzos phone. "Lorenzo! Your phone, it's ring!" Looking over the driver read the name.

Y/n

He knew it was wrong to answer the call, but it felt right like this would do something so he did. Charles picked up the phone and answer.

Before he could speak the voice he missed so dear filled his ear, yet it was panicked and he could hear uneven breathing.

"Lo I'm sorry please, I came back to Monte C but uh um the paps they um oh my god I can't breathe they keep following me! Please please I don't- I don't know where to go!" He missed her voice, granted it for much more mature and wiser now, he still missed it.

Though he was entranced by the situation, now very concerned. "It's okay, it's okay" His mind was on speed mode, much like it was in the car. "Send me the location, I'll come and collect you"

Y/n's voice came out calmer and confused now. "Cha...is that you?"

Charles nodded his head before realising she couldn't see him. "Yeah um it is Cha, I'm on my way" He rushed down to his ferrari.

-

Pulling up to her location, his heart clenched. Y/n had grown so much since he had last seen her, she had grown into herself and looked alot like Pascale now.

Charles climbed out of his car, walking over to her and collided her into a bone crushing hug. "Oh chérie, je suis vraiment désolé..." Oh darling, I'm so sorry

Tears soaked his shoulder, the whole chaos of the day and reuniting with her older brother weighing down on Y/n had finally toppled off completely.

She couldn't speak, just hung onto him. That long time spent away from her family catching up to her. "It's okay...it's okay..." Charles whispered in her ear.

-

[ratskcoreddie]

finish what you started

(bully!eddie x fem!reader)

introduction: eddie had always been so mean to you growing up and had been getting progressivly worse with the coming years. now a senior you celebrated your last homecoming at a party you unwilling attended. you just hoped you wouldn't run into the man you dreaded most. [WC: 10k] this started as a request but developed into this monster. it wasn't really proof read and is all over the place but i really love it. check out the request @honeybelle99 sent here!

tropes: enemies to lovers. porn with plot. oblivious to love.

warnings & tags: 18+, bully!eddie, fem!reader, slight angst, self doubt, strong language, suggestive language, swearing, drinking, teasing, smoking, sexual tension, dominance, eddie is mean in a teasing way, nicknames, eddie being a simp, confessions, intoxicated sex, unprotected sex, this isn't proof read.

parings: bully!eddie x fem!reader.

you shouldn’t be here. you didn’t like parties in the first place. it was your boyfriend that had convinced you that you deserved a night out after a successful homecoming at hawkins high. it had been a long busy week for all the students and apparently now it was time to “let loose”. there were parties being hosted everywhere throughout the small town but the real rager was being thrown at steve harrington’s. anyone who knew someone, who knew steve, got in. it was why you had an invite. 

you yourself didn’t know steve much, but you had been a victim of his long time best friend, eddie munson. that awful man doubled as your sworn enemy. 

class of ‘86 had grown up together from pre-k to senior year. eddie had always been a year ahead of you until recently when he was held back. you dreaded that he had been pulled from graduating. the first three years of your high school career the asshole would pick on you. you thought you would’ve been free by now but you had underestimated his laziness and his determination to make every day for you living hell. you hated eddie munson. you hated how he treated you and his peers, how loud he was, how confident, you despised him. you couldn’t believe you still had an entire semester to go. and in the spring? you would be required to walk the same gradation stage as him. 

his sadistic personality towards you was awful. each of his actions had become a blur but you loathed the recurring events the most. between classes he would slam your locker shut in your face just to hear you let out a pathetic whine at him. he’d pick on you at lunch time by pulling you to the side and saying the most vulgar things in your ear. after a few sentences you would lose your appetite and he’d steal your lunch. always casually walking away with a statement of “love that i can count on you, babe”. in shared classes he would steal your answers or convince you to let him borrow your notes (only because he needed to copy them for a test).

besides the thought of his looming presence, the party was grand. there were jocks running up and down the stairs with paint on their bare chest, girls were on the kitchen counter letting strangers do body shots off of them, trashy red solo cups littered the halls, and you heard someone announce that ‘king steve’ was about to take on an entire keg by himself. grand it was, the environment was still to busy for you. further deducting you to someone who absolutely did not like parties. to make things worse the taste of liquor on your tongue wasn’t muffling the impact of the overstimulation one bit. 

you took another shot before you moved to the back door of steve’s home. you made an exit hoping to catch some fresh november air. regain your composure before going back inside to bum a ride off of anyone. your boyfriend had been missing in action for over an hour. pulling open the door gave you a sense of relief, as you pushed it shut the sounds of the crowd muffled. you took a step out onto the grass. it helped that this new environment was quiet, better yet, it lessened the chances of bumping into eddie. 

so you thought.

you should’ve known you would’ve found him there. eddie wasn’t a fan of parties either due to his social class. he was sitting under a tree across the yard with a freshly lit joint in his mouth. you watched him from a few feet away. his sudden presence had made you wish to turn and run from him. he lifted his head slightly at you and gave you a sick grin. you could only stare. it was just the two of you in the dark yard. how reserved you both were from the rest of the student body made chills run up your spine. rumors weren’t sparse when it came to the devilish boy and he was always such an asshole to you at school. because of his behavior, a feeling of dread always sat at the bottom of your stomach. you couldn’t help but wonder if what you overheard was true. you had to face that reality being alone with him. part of you grew excited at the thought of being able to lash out at him now that he didn’t have his friends or a crowd of onlookers to perform for. the idea of giving him a taste of his own medicine pumping adrenaline through your body. 

he grinned like a cheshire cat. his eyes sparkled at you under the moonlight. eddie continued playing with the joint between his teeth, rolling it with his tongue every once in a while. “what are you doin’ out here, sweetheart?” he laughed at you. “get lost looking for someone..?” he paused, “or were you looking for some trouble”. the lighter he must’ve used to light his smoke was dancing between his fingers. light from the moon was reflecting off of the silver as it sparkled. the object looked so small in his big hands.

you were quiet on your feet as you walked closer. you watched as the once seated tall dark figure moved to stand. he was just a shadow when you spotted him from the backdoor but as he moved the light of the house illuminated him. it wasn’t on purpose that you found him, it was more like fate. your curiosity urged you to find out what he was doing at the far end of the backyard. your mind raced as you began to think of what to say to him while you both slowly inched closer. before you even had time to think he was in front of you. he crossed his arms and snapped his lighter shut. you jumped. the action made him chuckle at you. the sound was low and from the depths of his chest. he puffed out his chest. 

you puffed your chest back and glared at his nonverbal teasing. you thought you had caught a glimpse of nervousness on his face at your actions but that couldn’t be true. the two of you stared at each other for a bit. you couldn’t tell because of his hard exterior but eddie’s heart began to race. he had been drinking throughout the night too and being intoxicated always made his brain a little hazy. “hi, eddie”, you barked at him. 

he liked the way you said his name in that tone. it was why he always pried and picked on you. you noticed his suggestive glance as he looked you up and down. a predatorial glint was swimming in his eyes. he wouldn’t ever admit it but he was hoping he would see you tonight, and god he was so glad the stars aligned. you were wearing a cute outfit. a swallowing brown patterned sweater on your frame, and hip hugging blue wide cut jeans. a jacket that was lined with fleece to keep you warm sat rested on your shoulders while your big boots tied the look together. eddie never understood what came over him when you were around but it was almost like you boosted his testosterone levels. the need to have dominance over you was astounding. he felt overly confident.

his adrenaline mixing with the alcohol in his body was dangerous. 

“hi, pretty girl..” eddie bent slightly down to your eye level with his words. as he moved he puffed smoke out of the corner of his lip at you. you swatted it out of your face and coughed away from his direction to shield your embarrassment. after you had regained your posture you looked up to find the man leaning over your frame and laughing.

“hey!” you jabbed him in the chest with your finger to warn him to back up. he didn’t move an inch. “you’re such an ass, eddie. i wasn’t going to run away from you and give you the satisfaction this time. i wanted to be nice”. he giggled, “oh, baby i'm so so sooo sorry i’ve ruined your plans of being nice to me” he teased. “you wanna start over, doll? we can try again. promise ill be good for ya this time”. he smiled stupidly while standing up straight and waiting for your next greeting. his irises were dark and shielded by his eyelashes as he stared.

“i.. what are you doing out here?” you questioned him instead of offering a greeting like he thought you would. “oh, now you’re interrogating me? can i remind you that you were the one that walked out here and to me? i didn’t even have to whistle you over here”. he said the last statement as if you were some pet to him. “no, i'm not interrogating you, eddie. unless there’s something you shouldn’t be doing out h-...”, your words slowly died on your tongue as he raised an eyebrow and pulled the lit joint away from his damp lips. he laughed at your speechlessness, your body tensed. 

“mhm”, he let the lit smoke fall to his side as his fingers pinched it tight. “wanna know a secret?” you slightly nodded. “i think you wandered out here to me because you’re nosey… you wanna know what the town's misfit gets up to when he’s not picking on his favorite girl, baby?” he gave you a wolfish smirk. you sent him a death stare at his gross pet names. “oh, don’t look at me like that, you know i love when you’re all pouty for me..” eddie lifted his hand to take his third or fourth drag of the night. 

“god, you’re so gross. i'm so glad i won't have to hear your stupid insults when you leave next semester..” you tone was a whisper though you meant it. eddie acted overly insulted. “oww, words hurt, you know? it’s really rude to say something like that to someone that’s been such a constant in your life”, he smiled. you pushed a flat palm into his chest with as much force as you could muster. “oh so it’s fine for you to call me names?? but as soon as i do it your act crumbles?” you knew he was being sarcastic with his comment but it set you off, you continued, “i hear it almost everyday, ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘doll’, and what about your favorites huh? ‘whore’, ‘slut’. what about those words, eddie?” each vowel you said was a blow to his chest. he stepped back from you but not before he grabbed your wrist to stop your assaults. he pulled you into a close proximity with his burning grip. 

eddie had subtly and secretly pulled his hand holding his joint away from you, careful not to inflict a burn on your delicate skin. he would hate himself if he caused an accident like that but he didn't let his tenderness for you shine through his knives of assertion. “hey! you watch it!”, eddie growled at you. his tone almost shut your body down. you could tell he was mad now. “i only call you a whore because you deserve it. always fucking sucking face with your piece of shit boyfriend. i think you need the judgment. maybe if i keep it up i’ll see it less and less, hmm?” you cowered under his gaze and trembled in his grip. “oh i know why you came to find me now, you wanted to get me alone so you could take it all out on me didn’t you? wanted to give me a taste of my own medicine”. eddie read your mind. his grip loosened on you but you didn’t dare move. “whatever … an- and.. he can’t fucking kiss you anyways, such a slob with you”. he mumbles.

eddie didn’t elaborate his statement but he let it linger. it hung in the air over the both of you as he glanced at your lips. you caught him but he didn’t care, he studied them. they were damp with your hot breaths in the cold, almost winter air. he was breathing in what you were exhaling. he could smell your pretty perfume and shampoo. you felt your heart begin to race and your cheeks heated up the space between your bodies. he couldn’t shy away from his own doing the same. you wiggled against him to shift your body weight onto your other foot. he didn’t like your struggle. you felt him move his own feet with yours, eddie’s big boots boxing you in even more. you felt his hard metal belt buckle dig into the side of your hip. his cuff of his leather jacket was cold on the exposed skin of your wrist he continued to hold.

eddie smiled childishly at you. the new expression was something you hadn’t seen from him before. you moved your chin down to avoid his stare but as you pulled away, he just as easily let your wrist go and instead gripped your chin. with his thumb and pointer finger he held you. you fought to keep your eyes away from him to the best of your ability. eddie huffed, he pinched your face harder. “look at me”, as soon as you did you wished you hadn’t. his look was determined and sultry. his bangs framed his face messily. you had never been this close and his features were easy to get lost in. he was pretty, which was such a huge inconvenience for you to realize now that you were alone, it was dark, and he was this close. “don’t go shy on me after having that burst of attitude. c’mon you wanna give it to me? then give it to me, baby”. 

your thoughts raced back to your boyfriend. you shouldn’t have been talking with eddie like this. you pulled away from him and turned your head back to the sliding glass doors of steve’s house. they looked so far away. when you looked back at eddie your eyes were wide. you noticed his tongue twirling the joint between his lips. waiting for a response from you. you dared to indulge. his gaze fell to your lips again. his cheeks burned red when he felt your stomach slightly bumping into his own. you stole a look at his lips like he had moments ago. you watched him nervously wet his lips. your cheeks blushed even deeper. eddie smirked at you and tested the waters of your new expression. he stuck out his tongue further and licked his sharpest canine tooth. you were mesmerized.

your stomach flipped. you wondered what he was thinking. “what do you know about kissing?” you blurted out without thinking. eddie coo’d at you “i know far more than your stupid boyfriend, i guarantee it.” eddie said with confidence. he crossed his hands over his chest, now that space was granted between you. you mirrored his actions and your forearms grazed his. you shrugged his suggestive gesture off. you were certain he was just bluffing. his rough exterior surely scared any girls he tried to smooth talk away, as he had tried many times with you. 

but now you weren’t scared, now you were looking to pick a fight. you decided to ignore his comment about his kissing skills to avoid yourself from growing more hot. this conversation could easily take a more suggestive turn if you urged him on, and you weren’t going to let him win the stand off. you wracked your brain for ways to shut him down before speaking again. your next sentence tried to change the subject, but it definitely fell short.

“you’re right. he’s a shit kisser, but that’s none of your business and you don’t have to be mean about it.” the drinks you had doubled as truth serum. he whined pathetically at you, “wasn’t trying to be mean. if anything you’re being mean to me for a change.” you frowned, “seriously?”. “yeah, you told me i'm ‘such an ass’ and then started hitting me.. don’t think i deserved that. you’re so cold hearted, you know?” he giggled.

the playful banter you shared made you both smile. the absurdity of your dynamic was so dramatic. the buzz was hitting your system hard and he was right there with you. you watched eddie as he bent down at the waist to grab his almost empty beer off of the ground. he must’ve been babysitting that while outside by himself. when he raised back up he tilted his head back and drank the rest of the can. you watched his adam’s apple bob up and down while he chugged the golden liquid. a bit fell from the corner of his lips and down his throat. you watched as it dripped down to his shirt collar. when you reached the edge of the garment you noticed a tear. under the rip was his sharp collar bones. his pale skin contrasted against the darkness. you noticed a dark inky black line through the split of the aged t-shirt. it peeked at you. when he was done eddie dropped the can. 

when he connected your eyes to his quicker than you could register, eddie noticed you watching him intently. the fresh liquor in his system gave him another boost of confidence. he stepped to you. the distance between you two closed just mere inches between your bodies in a now comfortable silence. his frame was large, his body casted a shadow that consumed you. you had always thought there wasn’t much of a height difference between you two, but now you weren’t as sure. no matter the inches and centimeters you tried to think about, the numbers didn't help to busy your brain. you knew even if there was a large difference, eddie was sure to make you feel small under him in anyway. that's how it has been your entire life.

you watched his left hand raise between your bodies and to his lips. still holding onto his darling joint. he submitted to placing it once again between his teeth. the hot cherry on the end was slowly dying because of the icy outdoors. you blushed as he caught you stealing another glance at his lips. you seemed so intrigued by him now, not angry or upset. eddie realized you weren’t just looking at his lips for no reason. the tension he craved was there. the tension he thought he would never be a witness to snap. he was always so desperate for you to see how badly he wanted your attention but it was hard for him to express his feelings and he knew it was even harder for you to catch onto his rude ass behavior translating to him flirting. he didn’t blame you for hating him after all these years, he hated himself for it.

your attentiveness caused his body to ignite. you wanted something more now, and he so desperately wanted to provide anything to you. he wished he could read your mind to know what you were thinking. his eye contact didn’t budge from yours as he slowly pulled his lighter back out of his pocket. when his fingers couldn’t quite grab a hold of it his eyes trailed away from yours and down to his jeans.

“fuck.” he grunted.

you felt frozen. the vulgar word was said in just a breathy whisper, it gave you goosebumps. not in a bad way like before, just different. he grabbed his lighter and put it between the two of you. his tone was gentler because of how close he was. making sure that you would know he wasn’t directing the term towards you and instead the inconvenience his overly tight pants were causing him.  his hot breath brushed over the sparked flame putting it out and in its path you felt it on your cheek. he clumsily tried to light it again. 

after the constant spin of the wheel and the strain of his hands, his actions snapped you out of your daze. when you realized he was trying to spark a flame. you let out a sweet giggle. eddie looked at you before watching you take the lighter away from him. he gave you a glare while you continued to laugh at him softly. it was directed at him but he didn’t feel spiteful like he usually did when people laughed at him. eddie craved to have you laugh at him, craved to be the sole reason he heard that sound fall from your lips. 

he was so soaked up in each of your expression  as you moved in front of him with his lighter in your hands. eddie left out a small grunt when his fingers lightly brushed against yours. he wouldn’t have caught it himself if you hadn’t pointed it out, “stop whining, let me help you”. he willingly let you take it into your hands. he was quite possessive over his belongings so him letting you just snag his lighter was a very big deal to him. the contact of your hands made shivers go down his spine. 

his hands were warm compared to yours. the only contrast was his cold rings. in one motion your small thumb sparked the flame of the lighter. he looked back up and your eyes met once again. eddie motioned his hand to take it away from you as he nodded appreciatively, but gave you a confused look when you wouldn’t give it back. you swatted his hands away. you held the lighter in your right hand. the flame burned. you moved your vacant left hand onto his lips slowly. your palm touched the bottom of his chin while your cold fingers pinched the joint out of his mouth. your fingers lingered on his lips longer than they should have.

in an instant eddie’s confidence shattered. he let your motions continue as he was stuck watching you. his cheeks burned a brighter red then the flame. you gave him a smirk as you placed his joint between your lips. successfully stealing it from him. you tasted eddie, the damp end was sweet but there was a touch of beer that laced the end of it. your hands cupped the flame while relighting the smoke for him.

you snapped the zippo shut. his jaw dropped. 

eddie watched you spark a bright red cherry between your lips with your lungs. you inhaled the smoke easily, and pulled it away from your lips. eddie turned away from you to avoid your eyes, he was flustered. his jeans tightened around his groin. he tried to not think about your soft, plush, lips that stole his joint. he felt you pull his chin back to face you with your index and thumb, just like he had previously. your hand on his face startled him, your touch was cold. he almost let a sigh leave his chest, but he held it back. you moved in just a bit closer before a big cloud of smoke left your throat and puffed into eddie’s face. the boy began coughing while you laughed. when the cloud cleared you noticed eddie hadn’t really moved away from where he stood. he liked how close he was. you pulled the joint away from your mouth while looking into his eyes. you spoke in a sultry whisper, eddie barely heard you.

“you know, you really shouldn’t be smoking these. kills your brain cells.” you said softly. “oh, yeah? and what do you know about smoking?” he teased. “far more than you’d imagine, munson. I guarantee it.” you mocked his earlier jab at you about your boyfriend.

your comment reminded eddie of the conversation you previously shared. he gulped, lost in thought while he watched your hand raise back up to your face. you inhaled deeply, the musky taste of the plant covered your tastebuds. when you exhaled you turned your face away from him. eddie was in a daze. his eyes trailed up and down your features. you turned your face back to his, luckily you didn’t catch him that time, he would’ve died of embarrassment. your faces were a little more than inches apart. 

he wished he could have the strength to get closer. to really close the distance. this wasn’t like him. he never dared to come onto you intimately, scared of rejection, and he definitely never expected you to have the courage to stay so near. after he had been tearing you down for years it was surprising. he always knew you were strong willed but this was another level. he didn’t know if you wanted to get to know this eddie munson. the eddie he hid from everyone, the eddie that he acted like a hardhead because he had to. now he couldn’t be mean as he melted at your soft gaze. the poor boy had imagined what he would do if he ever ended up in a position like this with you. on several occasions it was after a long week of classes, in his own bed with his hand between his sweaty thighs. 

his blissful stare gave you the confidence to speak again. you had no clue what came over you but you decided to be alluding. it could’ve been the mood that you two found yourselves wrapped up in. or the unspoken tension. you knew this was bad. your boyfriend that hated eddie more than you was only ten or so feet away, partying in the house behind you. you weren’t the only victim to his constant bullying and degrading speech. and in the stance you were both in if anyone caught you it could be horrific. 

you threw your cares to the wind and continued.

“i like smoking. keeps my mouth busy.” you whispered looking at his lips and taking a puff. eddie paused. all of the blood in his body rushed south. you watched him try to gather himself. his stomach was in knots at your words. he almost short circuited when he realized you were being even more suggestive than before. you were blatantly flirting with him. a growl left his throat. his head lolled to the side. his neck was exposed again. 

your eyes traced his neck with curiosity. you wondered if he was sensitive there. what it would be like to lick your tongue up and down the veins bulging out. he looked down at his hands to avoid your glance. you eyes followed. you watched him clench his fist till his knuckles went white. his sparkly rings glistened under the light the moon supplied. he quickly shoved his hands in his pockets. fighting the urge to reach out and grab you. that's when you saw how his already bulge hugging jeans were swollen. you averted your gaze embarrassingly. you didn’t know he was this easy to get worked up. when you looked back up at him. his shoulders trembled and he let out a deep breath. the whites of his eyes glowing as he closes off more distance between you and him. his voice was drawn out in a low mumble, almost strained. his whispered in the vicinity of your ear. chills rushed down your spine as his grunts made your tummy turn.

“you’re fucking killing me, sweetheart”, he almost moaned. “i bet i could keep your pretty mouth busy all night. even better than your boyfriend”. eddie coo’d. “...you think I'm supposed to believe you know a lot about girls and their mouths, munson?” you mumbled around the smoke. “i’d love it if you’d let me show you…” he paused for a brief moment.

eddie moved his right hand and opened his palm to touch you. his fingers wrapped around to your jawline. his hand was massive when it fully surrounded your face. his touch was slow and deliberate. his rings were cold, the metal almost stung your face. his fingers danced across your features with purpose. eddie’s thumb touched the bottom of your face. your movements followed his direction. his index finger met your top lip and his middle tugged on the corner of your mouth. your lips stayed closed anticipating his next move before you realized he was pinching the smoke out of your mouth just like you had done to him moments ago. you were stunned. 

eddie was tugging at the joint with his delicate fingers. he giggled at how easy you were, but before letting go of the joint with your lips you stared up at him with your eyes. he watched you intently. your cheeks went hollow as you sucked on it and inhaled one more hit. eddie had never been so jealous of a joint in his life. you watched eddie’s eyes slowly roll into the back of his head at your actions before he closed them. he shamelessly moaned. your chest tightened at the noise. the cherry of the joint burned a bright red as he released it from you. 

eddie rushed to inhale the remnants of your taste with his own hit. you both had reached the last of it. he turned his head away kindly to exhale the smoke but his eyes stayed fixed on you and your lips. his fingers flicked the ash of the smoke onto the ground and stopped it out. your eyes sparkled at him. you hummed a soft note innocently before he reached his hand back up to your face. his grip was stronger this time, like how it had been when he was mad at you. eddie moved his fingers from your cheek to the bottom of your lip rudely. his thumb pulled at your bottom lip. you drooled onto his fingers as he blew smoke into your throat. 

he exhaled, you inhaled. 

it tasted like eddie. he felt your spit on his fingertips before he released you. your bottom lip wetly snapped back in place as he dragged his thumb downwards. his eyes stayed fixed on your plump slobbery lips as his irises burned with the smoke rising. he could think of thousands of things he wanted to do to you and your pretty face. his fingers remained on your chin. holding your face towards him.

“oh, you're gonna get me in a lot of trouble. i just know it.” he purred. “why’s that?” you questioned.“...don’t tell me you forgot about your boyfriend already, baby?” he paused.

you heart stopped. the way he called you baby now made your thighs clench together. he smirked as your cheeks glowed red. the strain you two had been sharing always calmed eddie down. it seemed to have the opposite effect on you. all your senses were heightened as it buzzed in your body. your mind was on overdrive. you wanted eddie bad. but as quick as you realized you needed him his hand left your chin. the touch lingered. it was electric. you lost yourself in the moment. your eye’s closed before you let out another soft hum and giggle. the strain turning all your nervousness into making you loopy. eddie raised his eyebrow at you, questioning your motives. you realized you hadn’t answered him. 

“y– yeah. you’re uhm…”, a pause, “right. i should get back to him. don’t want him finding out about this.” you whimpered. “uh-huh, that's right, baby”. eddie laughed at you.

your body stayed still. he brushed some of your hair out of your face to get one last look at you. the quick movement brought you back down to earth. he stared, no, began glaring into your eyes as you looked at him with a fucked out expression. he was leering at the sight of you. his gaze was filthy. you gasped as he experimentally traced his fingers on your skin. his touch started at your lips where he had played before, but he didn’t stop there. he moved his big heavy hand down to your jawline, and then your neck, and onto the collar of your sweater. his touch barely danced on your skin. he listened as you whimpered when he moved one finger down the center of your chest and then it was snuggled onto your hip. 

his grip was needy and harsh. it resembled how your lousy boyfriend would paw at your hips when he wanted something from you. the difference was your body willingly moved with eddie’s grip. you were basically throwing yourself at him. his hand moved under your sweater. his touch was cold on your warm sides. half of his hand stayed fixed on your skin, the other on the waistband of your cute jeans. he didn’t want to seem too eager, but his grip was tight and aggressive. he pulled you into his chest by your waist and your arm gripped onto his big shoulder that was guarded by his leather jacket. his head was almost buried in your neck at the soft sudden embrace he whispered in your ear.

“you should really get back to him. i think it would be better for both of us if i left. what do you think?” he whispered. you couldn’t think. the only thing that was on your mind was eddie and how he was holding you. he infiltrated your thoughts. you arm tightened around his frame. physically begging him to keep you here. he listened to you whimper into his chest at his question. you felt his jeans tighten on your thigh. he whispered into your ear again, 

“fuckkk, sweetheart… you making those pretty sounds for me? barely even touched you”, he teased. things were moving too fast. you slowly broke away from his grasp to ground yourself. he looked down at you with consolidating eyes. if this continued on you wouldn’t know what could come of it. you both weren’t very sober either. your cheeks were almost purple as you looked up at him with a hazy stare. he smiled. you just nodded. scared of what you might say next. 

he figured you pulling away was his cue to leave, so he started to walk back towards the house. the foot of distance that was put between you two helped cut the tension. you couldn’t tell but under his skin he was a mess. eddie was secretly glad that he had a few too many drinks and a joint. he wouldn’t have been able to face you like that otherwise. he heard you let out a small sigh with your exhale. your hand that was holding him fell to your side. 

truthfully he tried walking away. but he felt your eyes watching his back and the idea of moving forward without acting on his fantasies was enough for him to suddenly still. your eyes followed his movements as he turned around. the next actions were fast. his big arm moved past your head and grabbed the back of it. with you in his control it allowed his other hand to wrap around your throat and constrict. the feeling of the tingles caused by the weed mixed with the overstimulation from his touch made you delusional. he listened to you whimpering in fear as he imposed on your personal space again. he let out a devilish chuckle. he opened his mouth slowly to say his next words. they came quickly but you spoke before he could.

“you’re s–” he was cut off. “do you want to kiss me?” you choked out.

eddie paused, the soft question seemed so innocent. he knew that if he did kiss you he wouldn’t be able to stop himself soon after. it would be long and messy. he also couldn’t promise that he could fight off the urge to do more to you. he put some reasoning into his own head. it was totally irresponsible to kiss you right now. you both were standing in a vast open yard, intoxicated, and not in the best headspace. it was the drugs and liquor talking, not you, no way you wanted this. he had to shamefully admit, if he was gonna kiss you and make it count now would be the best moment. 

he felt his cock stiffen as he watched you purse your lips. his mind wandered to how you would feel wrapped around him like that with a pretty pout and puff kissed lips. he wanted to know what you would do if he pushed you up against his body and embraced you fully. he wanted to sloppily lick up and down your neck and hear the noises he could spawn from your throat. his eyes consumed your mouth as he processed what his next move would be. he had thought about this moment just hours before steve’s party. your eyes looked so sparkly as a blush crawled up your neck and onto your cheek bones as you waited for his answer. you wet your lips with your tongue. knots were in his stomach. 

he grunted, “shit.. it doesn’t matter how bad i wanna kiss you”, he paused, “and it doesn’t matter that i think you're the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen. this wouldn’t work. i’ve been such a dick to you. you deserve better than someone like me”. you thought that was funny coming from him considering how much eddie hated your boyfriend.

his eyes continued watching the mouth he desperately wanted to kiss before you started to speak. “tha-..”, he glared at you before raising his index finger onto your lips. he applied a little pressure. he watched as they pushed out and around his finger. he smirked while shushing you. he thought back to how you looked with your cheeks hollowed out sucking on his joint again. his soft hands felt so good on your face. you weren’t going to fight him on this, you never wanted this moment to end. 

before you could stop yourself your lips opened slightly, inviting him in to play with your tongue. he groaned as he felt you kitten lick his finger gently. he didn’t pull away. his dick was sore with how much you two had been teasing each other back and forth. he fought every urge to shove his index down your throat to really feel it. he continued talking to you. his tone was mean and messy, laced with dominance. you loved this eddie, you didn’t care that he was mean. 

“.. shhh… you really do love keeping that mouth busy don't you…”, he teased, “i was right about you being a little whore..  hmm?” eddie raised his eyebrow at you. pulling his wet finger back onto your lips. he played with your top and bottom lip slowly before he adjusted his hand. his thumb was pushing at your bottom lip, testing if you were gonna welcome the other digit into your mouth. you stuck your tongue out fully at him. he placed the pad of his finger onto the wet warm muscle and you took it into your mouth. you looked at him with eyes that put him in a trance. you were successfully distracting him from pulling away from you. he tasted like all the things you loved about a man, but it was uniquely eddie. warm, salty, and a hint of beer he must’ve spilled on his hand earlier. sucking on him slowly he moaned. 

“oh. fuck. me.” whining between words. he watched you for a second before trying to speak again. “do you… do you really want this as bad as i do?” his face was so close. you watched his chest rise and fall as his breath invaded your space. you smelled the musky combination of liquor and smoke on his tongue. he looked longingly into your eyes waiting for you to say something. you continued to play with him. you must have stood in silence for far too long because eddie spoke for you. his tone was heavy. you watched his lips move with his words. while his fingers toyed with yours.

“baby?’ he asked. you just nodded and sucked harder.

he giggled while rotating his soaked thumb on your tongue. “hmm, what’s the matter, that sweet mouth of yours doesn’t wanna be so mean anymore does she? poor thing. how devastating, i love hearing your pretty noises.. and whines… and pouts. you just need something to fill you up, don’t you?”. eddie clicked his teeth in dissatisfaction as your tongue continued to play with his salty finger. you shook your head at him like a child. telling him you didn’t wanna talk and would rather do this. you were scared of what you would say anyways. the man smirked at you before moving closer to whisper something in your ear. as he spoke softly you reminded yourself this was your sworn enemy. never did you think he could make you so hot. never did you think you would let something like this happen.

eddie was fully in control as he spoke to your empty mind. when his lips barely touched your earlobe you could hear his breath. it made your head spin. that was the closest he had been to you. you felt his hot exhale on your neck. his tone when he said his next words were laced with evil. “tell me, what is it that you want out of this? i can tell you’re touched starved.” his breath grazed your ear again, his lips fell to your jaw and he kissed you there. “mhm,” eddie groaned. “your boyfriend isn’t taking good care of you and your mouth is he?” eddie paused. “because if he was, i bet you’d have way less of an attitude with me all the time.”

this was a dangerous game you two were playing.

you moved your hands between your bodies. the tip of your finger grazed the hem of his shirt and slightly pulled it up. you felt the path of hair that guided you into his pants. eddie winced at the action. he pulled away from you slightly to give your hand room to slip into his waistline. you looked down at his jeans, realizing he was about to pop the zipper on them. you wished it was a bit brighter so you could see exactly what he was packing. there was really no need because you could feel him in your hand. he groaned into the skin of your neck and started leaving messy open mouth kisses in his wake. when you curved your hand just right he whined. “ohh… fuckk”. 

eddie grabbed your hand away from his body and instead rushed to pick you up. you yelped and giggled as he drug you back to his bestfriends house. “what.. what are you doing, eddie?” he let out a gruff laugh. “finishing what you started”. his boots stomped on the ground as the pitter patter of your own soles tried to keep up with his. when you both had arrived back inside the party was in its last stage. he rushed you through the doorway and then into the kitchen. bodies were passed out on the livingroom floor. cans were both empty and spilled all over the stairs that eddie was leading you up. there was a door that had a sock on the doorknob in the hall that led to the guest bedrooms of the large home steve and his absent family stayed in.  

he threw open a door to a room he knew wouldn’t be occupied because steve always kept a room reserved for eddie and robin when they stayed over. as he manhandled you he slammed the previously open door and pushed you against it. he looked into your eyes. “..this okay, yeah?” he huffed. his chest raised quickly anticipating your answer. “ye-..”, the reassuring words hadn’t even left you before he was swallowing them down. 

eddie forced the searing kiss onto your lips while he groaned. it was all tongue and teeth as you both fought to taste each other. he grabbed you cheeks to keep you steady while he studied each curve and imperfection of the lips he had always wished to kiss. he traced his tongue though your crevices. you were everything to him. he had secretly been starving for this very moment since he had a sample of your taste from his damp joint you bummed. your spit teasing him. 

though he was rough with you his hands were gentle. he held your face softly and pawed at your hips. it was easy for him to maneuver around you and unbutton your jeans. you were both so desperate, but eddie was pathetic. he was whining and moaning while grinding against your thigh. he pulled away with a soft bite on your bottom lip. he lifted you up by the waist and carried you from the door and further into the room till your back was met with the guest bed. he grabbed your ankles as you fell back and pulled your pants down just enough to where he could see the tiniest bit of your panties.

eddie bites his lip softly, smiling to himself. he had been wanting to get you into this position since the beginning of his toments. eddie crawls up your frame as he slowly pulls your jeans completely down. his arms wrap around and spread your thighs. your head unwillingly fell backwards. the muscles of your neck strained. you felt him leave a gentle kiss on your covered clit. it wasn’t much, but it was enough to drive you insane. he laughed with his face close to your center. his hot breath so close gave you another sensation of how crazy this was. eddie teased you with his fingers over the fabric making your thighs clench together around his head. blocking his view and slowing his moments. 

“ah.. you keep those legs open or we’re stopping… been thinking ‘bout this too long.” he hooks his strong arms around your calves. he forces you into the position easily. eddie wasn’t being dramatic. he had been dreaming about this for years and now he wasn’t gonna let you move an inch. you let him hold you. 

you hated him. you loved this. 

you cupped your hand around your mouth to try to stay quiet. as soon as you did, eddie raised over you and pulled it away harshly. he laid your palm flat and open over your head. “none of that either.. talk to me, doll. let me hear you…” he demanded with a sultry tone. “yes, eddie..” you nodded and then he kissed you. the kiss this time was softer and laced with feeling. 

“that’s a good girl… such a good girl”, he murmurs the words to himself as he makes his way back down. “your boyfriend ever do this for you baby…?” eddie possessively played with the hem of your panties while purposely teasing your lips. you answer him with a small whine. “..no..”, you lean forward to watch him. he grins at you like a devil. eddie slides his fingers under your panties, rubbing your slick around your mess. “oh god.. you.. you were this wet for me while we were out there talking weren’t you?” all you could do was nod. he slowly hooks his fingers onto the straps of your panties and pulls them off to expose you to him fully. his breath hitched, you heard it. the damp fabric moving from your hips down to your thighs and past your ankles makes you roll your eyes back and instinctively buck your hips towards him. as your panties had moved down, his lips now moved up. a kiss on your ankle, a harsh bite on your inner knee, a wet suck and pop of his lips on your inner thigh. 

“gonna make you feel so good, you’re gonna feel so good cause of me, baby. no one else, m’kay?” eddie opens your legs wide again so he can indulge himself. he grunts as he gets a good look at you. he kisses your exposed clit and sucks deeply. his eyes roll back at the taste. soft, messy sounds start to fill the room from your dripping wet pussy and his sloppy tongue. you could subtly hear the grind of his hips against the spring mattress. his tongue worked in firm circles on your sensitive nub, followed by gentle slides of his up your tummy in tender touches.

“god, you soaked through your panties, pretty girl”. you whined above him, unable to answer his statements. you watched him as he collapsed your worn garment into a bundle in his free hand, he stuffed it deeply in his back jean pocket. “gotta save that for later so i know i'm not dreaming…” eddie growled from deep in his throat. the overwhelming and confusing feelings made you reach for him. he giggled and stuffed a finger into you while continuing to lick his flat tongue up your center to savor your dripping arousal. 

the air was filled with the smell of sex and the sloppy sounds of him drinking you down. he worked you open for him. he was silent as he catered towards his own needs and fantasies, still not fully comprehending that you were wincing under him in pleasure.  when he felt your walls clench around his fingers and your pants grow even shorter, eddie began to talk you through your finish. “does that feel good, sweetheart?” his hips rutted into the mattress, hard. the prospects of getting you off was getting him harder than he had ever been before.

though eddie was so fucked out, his mean demonor didn’t stray far away. he slowed his movements just to hear you cry out for him. when you looked for an answer to why he was slowing down, he smirked at you. you watched through your lashes as he flicked his tongue just right and in a dreadfully slow curve. “taste so.. fucking.. good”, he said to himself. then he harshly slapped your clit after your hand had fallen back over your mouth to muffle your moans. “ahha!” you cried. “what did i say? answer me.. feels good, doesn’t it?”. “yes.. yes feels…ah… really good.. don’t stop. please. don’t stop.” you whimpered for him. his chest grew warm, his tummy turned. 

he whispered his words while kissing your clit “mhm… wasn’t hard was it? all i needed to hear, baby.” he continued his faux attitude while you cried for him. he was close to falling apart. he had to be dreaming. eddie moved his fingers over you in an agonizingly slow manner, while he day dreamed. as he mindlessly day dreamed of all the things he could do to you tonight he heard you cry out for him to give you more. you didn’t have to tell him twice. he picked up his pace once again. you trembled, a moan stuck in your throat threatening to rip through you. you couldn’t hold on anymore. your entire body shakes for him as your breath leaves your lungs. his name is a constant curse of how good he could make you really feel. the way you moaned for him was making his cock unbelievably hard. you can feel his devilish smile againsts you as he furthers his torture and fucks you through your first orgasm, not daring to slow down for you to catch your breath. his hips continue to chase friction from the mattress.

a massive tidal wave washes over you. the sounds of your hot cunt leaking for him and down his fingers make him leak through his pants and onto the bed with his own pre. the relief you feel brings tears to your eyes as you cum harder than you thought was possible for a person to. your dripping hole clenched around him like a vice. it continues to suck him back in, he’s not ashamed to give your greedy pussy more.

“eddie! ahhha.. eddie!” you scream out from overstimulation. your needy tone surprises him so he quickly slows down his pace. he calms you. eddie places hot kisses on the hollow spot between your hip and thigh. after he sucks your skin a deep purple eddie sits up a little. he’s letting go of your legs, and placing both of his hands on the top of your thighs. he grips the doughy skin gently to ease your tingly body. the tenderness of his actions allows you to come back down to earth. you look up at him over you. as you made eye contact eddie pulled his shirt off of his chest. his hands worked on loosening his belt buckle. he was so handsome like this. “you’re handsome..” you mumbled in a drowsy state. 

“you.. you really think so..?” he blushed a deep maroon while you hummed when he collapsed onto you. he raised slightly to help you take your own shirt off. he moved desperately. “need to feel you..” he pulls you into a searing hug. skin on skin. eddie raises your back to arch for him before he pops the back of your bra undone. you whine at how efficient he was with it. “eddie..” you whimper. he pulled the garment off of you as he raised himself up. he threw it somewhere into the room with the rest of the now growing pile of clothes. 

then he was working on his jeans. he clumsily moved his knees back and forth to rock out of the tight restricting pants. your hand must’ve made it’s way to his lower tummy while he undressed. he pulled the band of his boxers down and he let his swollen cock bounce free. it slapped the back of your hand. you both moaned at the contact. his tip was bright red and dripping. eddie whined as he grabbed his base. he got a serious glint in his eyes as he let you take it and guided it down to you.  “you think it’s handsome?” "y-yeah," you nodded, sounding a little hoarse. 

you sighed a little at the feeling of him letting you run it through your folds. he was huge and bigger than anything you had ever taken. he grabbed your hips to keep your body from running from him, or worse pushing him into you when he wasn’t composed at all and risking hurting you. he insulted your past experiences to make himself feel better about the fact that he was forsure going to bust early. “never had a dick this big?” he teased shyly. his false confidence died when you looked at him with need. oh, he was so fucked. he had already been so on edge while playing with you using his fingers.

he bent at the waist and kissed you again, right when you least expected it. you felt his hips pull away from your slightly. he whispered “..you.. shit.. are you ready?" he asked you, but it sounded like he was stalling.

karma's a bitch and you were tired of waiting. you were going to win this standoff. the break between your last orgasm and now allowed you to catch your breath. with a huff and a whisper into the shell of his ear, you teased, “are you?”. you broke down all his walls with those two words. "baby… oh baby.. fuck i've been ready for this for years," he choked the confession out breathlessly before plunging forward and filling you with his cock in one smooth motion. eddie shivered as he pressed his hips up to yours, moaning weakly and so completely in love. his eyes were shut tight and his head tossed back in concentration.

when he regained his composure he fucked into you like he was crazed. he grabbed the back of your thighs and threw you into his cock. back and forth. his pace was relentless as he started moving his mouth a mile per minute. just like his hips. “i don’t deserve this. always been… so mean to you and.. you still wanna give me this sweet pussy? god, you’re gonna make me cum, sweetheart. i’m sorry i'm already gonna cum.” he was rambling while he lost his tempo. eddie pulled your legs onto his shoulders as he rotated his hips deeper. he popped his finger in his mouth and licked the digit before he laced it between your bodies and started working on your clit. “it would be really mean.. of me to not let you.. cum again. and.. ahha- fuck.. i need to feel you cum on me. please”. 

your legs trembled, your walls sucking him in deeper. “yes! yes! just like that, baby”, he grunted in your ear. “eddie ohh.. god.. im gonna cum. im gonna cum!” you felt him shake over you while his hot breath painted your neck in a allowed dampness. he bit your neck to suppress his needy whines. he chanted your name but not before dropping an absolute bomb on you. 

“fuck… i love you, always loved you. and i love this pussy shit..” you hardly caught his confession as your orgasms both teetered on the edge. “gonna fucking fill you up, fill my good girl up.. you want that? fuck give it to me… i need it. i need you...” you nodded your head with haste. “give it to me, eddie. please.. you can cum inside me..” both of you crossed the finish line together as the waves washed over you. eddie’s entire body shuddered. his grip his rough hands had on you was so tight there was sure to be evidence that this wasn’t just some sick dream tomorrow. the way your nails had clawed against his back and forearms branding him in the same way. he felt both of your liquids gush around his cock as he slowed his pace and grunted. he didn’t wanna pull away. eddie was too scared of what your reaction would be to his afterglow of the best orgasm he had ever had. not to mention the embarrassment of his loose tongue.

after a few moments of silence he slightly moved so he could look into your eyes. you had a dumb smile on your face. eddie accepted the humiliation and grinned back. he stayed buried inside of you. only adjusting to see you better in certain moments. you allowed his words from earlier to ring in your ears. he looked at you with pure devotion wondering who was going to address what he said first. 

“so-“ he started. 

“we-“ you said at the same time. 

“you.. uh.. you go first.. please?” he nervously bit his lip while adjusting the warm blanket you two had found yourselves wrapped up in. he moved his face to yours. “no.. how about you finish what you started”. 

the boy could only slowly blink at you. oh how the tables had turned.

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[oceantornadoo]

a ghost lives

price came to your door and told you simon was killed in action. three months later, who's that at your door step?

angsty but turns smutty. happy ending dw :)

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“no.”

you slammed the door, hands shaking. “no, no, no. it’s not possible.” your shaking hands raised to your cheeks, clawing. tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision. the door opened, a dark figure walking through it. you flinched, taking steps backwards until your back hit the wall. you kept shaking your head, murmuring “no, no, no” without sound. you slid down the wall, staring at the man in front of you.

simon was in shambles. the moment he was medically cleared he had jumped on the next plane home, not bothering to tell anyone. he needed to see you, to hold everything he held dear, to believe in good again. and instead of a warm welcome, instead of your customary jump and kiss, you were breaking down. he didn’t understand it. what did he do wrong?

“love? it’s me. i’m home.” he said almost stupidly, unsure of his next move. he closed the door and locked it, and you flinched again. you were sitting on the floor now, tears running down your face with your head in your hands. he set his bag down gently, not wanting to spook you. he ripped off his mask and gloves, tucking them away. you gasped, finally making eye contact.

“you’re not real. you died. my husband died three months ago. you’re in my imagination. please, just go away.” you pleaded, prayed. price had come to your doorstep three months ago, hat in his hands, tears in his eyes. he talked about a difficult enemy and unfair terrain. the only word you heard was “k.i.a.” you died that day, and had been a breathing ghost ever since.

simon was in shock. he had left the hospital so quickly that he had never talked to his unit, didn’t know what they told you. he dropped to his knees, your pain flowing through him tenfold. “i didn’t die, love. i was just lost. i survived for two months in the woods until they found me. i was so badly injured i had to be treated by foreign operatives. price doesn’t even know, i thought they told him. i’m so sorry. i am so, so sorry. i’m here.” you shook your head at his every word. your nightmares were terrifying, but this was the worst one yet. you had never hallucinated in broad daylight. his familiar scent of musk and that cologne you bought him last christmas wafted through the air, punishing you. 

“i don’t believe you. you’re not real. i buried you.” you couldn’t afford to hope. the last months had been about survival, and you had just started eating regularly without bursting into tears, imagining simon cooking his famous meat pie in your kitchen. “casket was empty, lovie. i’m going to touch you now. i need you to know i’m here.” he reached his hand out slowly, like he was approaching a feral cat. you flinched again, breaking another piece of his heart and burying it like that empty casket. his fingertips brushed your cheek and your mouth dropped, tears stopping. 

“si? tell me this is real. convince me.” he maneuvered over until his knees touched yours, bringing you down to earth. you couldn’t believe him. your ghost was alive. there was no way. maybe you had too many melatonin gummies last night.

“look, dove.” he pulled up his shirt, showing you new scars. you had his scars memorized, mapped down to the millimeter, and you would never dream of him being hurt more. he showed you his bandages, moving your fingers over the wrapped bullet hole. he grimaced and you gasped. you would never wish for simon to be in pain, so the fact that he was meant…

you flung yourself at him, shedding new tears. “you’re here, you’re really here. you’re alive.” he nodded against your shoulder. you hear a small meow and drew your head back, looking at riley jr., your ball of fur. she padded over softly and nuzzled her head against simon’s knee, drawing a short laugh from him as he scratched behind her ears. through all of your nightmares, riley jr. had never acknowledged your ghosts. which meant simon was real. which meant he was alive. 

“i’m here.” he kissed your forehead, brushing back your hair. “i’m here.” he kissed between your eyebrows, smoothing the creases there. “i’m alive.” he kissed your tears away, drying your face. “i’m never leaving, dove.” he kissed your nose, finally drawing a small smile out of your. “i’m home.” he kissed your lips, and you kissed back fervently. your husband was home and alive and here. “simon, i’ve missed you. you have no idea. i died that day. i’ve been waiting to join you ever since.” he shook his head as tears rolled down his face. “be ready to wait another 70 years, love. we’re alive.” you tackled him again, pushing him down on the ground. you kissed him with the passion that had been gone for the last three months, cracked and dried out inside you. you climbed on top of him, needing to feel him, needing to believe. 

you grinded your hips against his, drawing out a low moan. “let me inside. let me show you i’m alive.” he said, still not convinced you believed him. you nodded, overcome with love for the man beneath you. he rubbed his palm against your clit, rocking you as you kissed. you hadn’t even thought of sex in the last three months, and it had somehow built up to this. you were instantly wet, always ready for your simon. you felt his hardness underneath you as he bucked his hips. you unzipped his pants, taking him out, long and heavy in your hands. he pulled aside your shorts and you sunk down on him with a low moan. “my husband. my simon. you’re alive.” you finally, truly believed it. he bucked into you, the friction of his clothes stimulating your clit. “my wife and her beautiful cunt, sucking me in. look at you.” there were dried tears on your face, sweaty clothes clung to your body, and your cunt squelched with every thrust. you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. you were so pretty, even when you cried. 

he flipped you both over, fucking into you hard on the floor. his hand wrapped around your head, protecting it from bumping. “i’m back because no one could ever fuck you like this. no one as good as me. say it.” he ordered, needing reassurance. “no one as good as you, si. no one will ever be you.” you moaned, your orgasm building up, with something behind it. he sucked your neck and pinched your nipples, reminding your body of how good it felt to be owned by him. “come on, dove. come for me.” you felt so wet and achy, your emotions out of control. his voice was the only thing keeping you conscious. you felt stuffed, full of your husband. “come on, my dirty girl. let me fill you up. my welcome home gift.” you gasped as you came, a tingling sensation following it. you looked down as you squirted on simon’s cock, so overwhelmed. he came, the juices mixing, trailing down your holes. “gonna give you a baby so you won’t ever leave. we’re never leaving each other, yeah?” he grasped your hair and pulled you in for a kiss.

“never, simon. i’m yours.”