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#and so far you are the first person to question it
delirious-donna · 2 days
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Just Call My Name, I'm Yours To Tame [Nanami Kento]
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an: running late is Kento’s idea of hell, but even more so when you’re waiting for him. If he’s not careful, someone else might swoop in and try to steal you away, but you’d never go… right?
pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader
warning: unwanted attention from a male stranger, uninvited touching, pissed off Kento, implied violence (not involving reader), hasty sex, semi-public fucking, Kento wants to rub himself all over you
Masterlist
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Kento hated running late, it wasn't a simple mild annoyance but a deep abhorrence at the lack of punctuality. It was his belief that if you had the manners to arrange to meet at a specific time, you should do everything to keep your word. He was an old soul, as you often teased him, and good manners cost nothing in his eyes.
Cursing the inept Gojo Satoru, a man meant to be his elder and ‘superior’, for being unable to write up his reports without assistance at every turn, he scowled and glanced at his watch once more. In his mind, he was concocting retribution befitting of his ego and idiocy, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips as he hurried along.
Thirty minutes late…
Oh, he wanted to claw at his skin. The discomfort of his lateness darkened his mood on an evening which was meant to be fun. He was meant to meet you at the small bar you had discovered a few weeks back, conveniently not far from his apartment which meant on that first fateful night it made tumbling home easy whilst you loosened his shirt and tie, and he left his mark on the skin of your collarbone.
Those tantalising memories had the grace to relieve the worst of the anger bubbling inside him like a volcano ready to erupt at any moment, thoughts of Gojo’s smirking face and the traffic that seemed intent on keeping him from you melted into the periphery. All he needed was to set his sights on your pretty face and all would be right again.
What he wasn’t expecting when he finally rounded the door to the bar, eyes scanning through the Friday night crowds, and what he absolutely did not need given his current temperament was to discover you being harassed.
His hand tightened into a fist, which he slowly released as he blew out a controlled breath. You were seated at your favourite section of the bar—close enough to the bartenders that drinks would never run dry but removed enough that quiet conversation was easy. Kento's glance cut to your outfit, much to his immediate shame, taking in the skirt that you knew was his very favourite and the sentiment was clearly shared by the man leaning in much too close.
Whilst he could see why this stranger admired your shapely legs, the soft spread of your thighs and the curve leading to generous hips, you were not enjoying the attention and he was far from being subtle in his interest. Any sane person could see that you were slowly inching away from him, but drunk on his poison of choice and probably a hefty dose of adrenaline given how often and fidgety his hand ran through his greasy hair, the man was ignoring your rebuff. Instead, he shuffled even closer with drool practically hanging from his open mouth.
His rising temper was curtailed by an unexpected hint of humour, his imposing frame blocked the entrance and left other patrons to squeeze around him rather than ask him to move whilst he observed your short, curt nods in response to the man's questions. Your entire stance, mannerisms, and the way you turned in your seat to give him your back all screamed 'fuck off' in the politest way possible. You were too good for him, far more restrained than he would be at the unwanted attention. It made him want to laugh, and that was far more welcome than the fury beating deeper in his heart.
You were no damsel in distress, but when the man reached out to touch the side of your knee, he knew it was time to announce his presence and put a stop to this pathetic display. Kento’s neck cracked from side to side, and he moved off with purpose from where he had been standing.
Discreetly you tapped your phone to life and glanced at the time, frowning at the continued absence of the man you were meant to be meeting. A low sigh eased past your lips as you continued to ignore your annoyingly persistent admirer. Kento was late and it just wasn't like him.
Worry was beginning to gnaw in the pit of your belly, only incited by the flashes of irritation at the man that you could only describe as a pervert. Not only had he seated himself despite you assuring him that it was taken, but he also openly leered at your chest and legs.
You wondered if you should call him, biting your lip in indecision and tapping anxiously at the green call symbol next to his name, but it was all for naught.
A figure caught your attention from the corner of your eye; blond perfectly parted hair, broad shoulders and an unreadable expression—Kento had arrived and was heading straight for you, his eyes burning holes into you.
You weren’t quite ready to throw yourself into his arms, although you were tempted if it finally gave this pest the hint he needed to beat it, but your thoughts were cut short by a clammy hand on your knee. Disgust rose in your throat at being touched without your consent.
The hand didn’t remain there long.
There was a muffled scream as your view of the unwanted admirer became obscured behind a broad back. His navy shirt looked close to breaking point as the threads at the seams strained to contain the strength of your beau, his biceps flexing whilst you were left to wonder exactly what he had done—although you could guess.
"I'm sorry I kept you waiting, sweetheart. I was held up by an idiot," he soothed, finally turning to cup your chin in his large palm. His thumb stroked along your jawline as the other hand landed on the seated flare of your hip. His hold was firm, deft fingers sinking into your plush flesh and kneading you just how you liked.
You barely took note of the man leaving the bar with his hand cradled to his chest, the fingers looking bent into an unnatural position and very red. It was hard to care when you were caught fast in the snare of being able to breathe in the scent of your man. The only man that mattered, was the one looking at you with an expression you weren’t entirely familiar with.
"Where are we going?" you asked breathlessly. With one fluid movement, you allowed him to pull up from the seat and into the warmth of his body, his chest shielding you from those around who were turning to look your way.
"Home, sweetheart."
Except it wasn’t the complete truth. You found that out when your spine arched off the wall, shoulders digging into the brickwork as Kento held your weight around his waist as if it were nothing. With his zipper undone enough to allow his cock to slip free, and your underwear shoved roughly into the crease of your thigh, he took you like he never had before. He dropped you down onto him again with fervour, swallowing your whine and feeding you his own rumbling groan.
He was possessed with the need to reclaim you, to rub his scent across every bare inch of your skin and the desire couldn’t be contained. You were thankful for the shadow-polluted back alley running behind the bar. Eternally grateful that it wasn’t yet dark enough for the streetlights to illuminate the lewd scene in which you were playing a starring role. The shadows wrapped around the hunched form of Kento, his frame hiding you from sight except for your legs around his hips.
Rough, calloused hands smoothed your bare thighs, hiking your skirt even higher as he groped at you in desperation. It was so unlike him, to see him so raw and in need of you. Your cunt clenched around his hard length, rolling yourself to meet his frantic thrusts halfway, the haze of an impending orgasm dulling your senses down to the only one that mattered—the feel of him fucking up against your g-spot.
With your fingers entwined with his, dizzy and all too giddy from the quick hit of dopamine, you skipped along towards his apartment. The lazy, self-assured smile he wore had you clenching all over again, dancing closer to him and leaning up to press a kiss to the bobbing swell of his Adam’s apple.
You should have known that he wasn’t done, in fact, he wouldn’t be satisfied for some time to come. Kento let out a low roar like some feral beast the second the door slammed shut behind his back. Taking off like a drunk gazelle, you ran and he chased you down the hall to the shrieks of your laughter until he had you caged against yet another wall.
"Kento... you’re acting beastly!"
His answer was to open his jaw, teeth snapping around the slender column of your throat and his tongue working into the hollow. He nipped and bit his way around your throat, holding you in the cage of his arms without sign of release.
“I am a beast, darling. When it comes to you… I’ll never stop reminding you that I am the one you chose, and never stop proving exactly why you love falling into my bed.”
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ceesimz · 3 days
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Leave Before The Lights Come On
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Title is a Arctic Monkeys song! This trope has been done more times than I've blinked my whole life but this is my version, enjoy :) (ps it's not long but it's a lil bit spicy and slightly ridiculous)
Award shows, charity events, dinners with red carpets. It's how things started months ago, and it's still how the story goes now.
Everyone knew what private but not secret meant nowadays, it seemed to be the go-to for basically all couples. Yet, very few understood the thrill of private and secret.
Every night spent at these things was a new performance for you both, dancing around each other with fleeting glances and lingering, teasing touches. A chance to start fresh over and over, something most couples never endeavour in anymore, but it's so addicting. A game of cat and mouse that always ends in the same way, and despite that fact, it's still intoxicating all the same.
"One beer please."
"Just a beer'll do."
You know who is next to you, there's no use guessing. It always starts like this. And when she slithers closer, elbows rested on the bar that she's slumped over compared to you standing with perfect posture and hands clasped around your own arms that crossed over your chest, the cuff links of her suit sleeves glimmer in your eye line. Her hands purposely move to fiddle with them, knowing your attention is on her hands and the rings that are scattered across her fingers. She knows you too well, knows your eyes unintentionally fall to that part of her whenever they're on display, and it causes the first simmer of something to bubble in your abdomen.
At once, the bartender places the beer bottles down in front of you both, each reaching out to grab it and turning to the other. With eyes holding the other's gaze, you and Leah take a swig of your drinks, a silent agreement that the night has begun.
To your dismay though, the scales have already tipped in Leah's favour as she gets the first laugh. She takes another sip of her beer, first moving her eyes from your face to the way your hands make the bottle look bigger than it is as you hold it with both, rather than Leah who holds it with just one. Then, she trails her eyes downwards and up again, smirking smugly at you before walking away, not without a brush against your shoulder.
You shake your head just as the host announces the event will begin in ten minutes and advises everyone to find their seats. Working with one of the most well-known magazines got you great seats surrounded by good people to network with, and though if your manager found out she'd probably retract all future invites, you couldn't care less about networking. Not when you were stuck in the most mind-numbing game of back and forth, push and pull, take and give. You could be seated beside some random Tom, Dick or Harry from a no-name town in England, or you could be sat beside someone like Serena Williams, and it'd make no difference.
Leah Williamson, your new girlfriend and possibly the most frustrating yet attractive person you'd seen, was in the room. That was enough incentive for all thoughts to fly far from your mind.
The last event you went to was probably the most notable for your relationship. It should have been a pretty important one for you to pay attention to, considering it was hosted by GQ, but how could you when a certain blonde in a scantily clad dress was begging to be your girlfriend all night? She had asked in just about every way possible, and you would have said yes from the first instance if it weren't for her attention being pulled away before you could get a word in.
From whispering it in your ear as she slipped past you during a conversation with some of GQ's most important employees, to handing you a serviette with words written on that still send shivers down your spine when you think back to them, and even meeting your eyes from across the room in your respective seats and mouthing the question 'Mine yet?' with an upward quirk of her eyebrows. If you thought that part of the night was memorable, you didn't want to talk about the visceral reaction you got thinking back to the after events that occurred in the comfort of your hotel room.
But now, here in the present, you found your seat at a table with shareholders and employees and celebrities scattered around it, distinctively uninterested in every single one of them. They try to strike up conversation and you let them, your workaholic autopilot kicking in to entertain their interest for some time. These things are always boring, that's what makes them the perfect environment for this kind of thing. Sure, some were more fun than others and both yourself and Leah had found them enjoyable in the past, but there was an added element to them now that you were quite sure you could never give up.
The host drags on far longer than needed and to you it seems they're rather self-indulgent, revelling in the fact they've got the attention of the room. They talk as if everyone is hanging on the edge of their seats, grasping onto every word they said, when in reality it couldn't be further from the truth. Or at least in your case anyway. Apparently your boredom showed a little too much, because the person beside you asked if you're alright at a lull in the first speech of the evening. You reassure them you are fine, just in need of a drink since your beer had already gone down by now, and with a thanks from yourself they turn back away from you.
Your eyes search the room then, giving in to the temptation of her, only to find blue eyes staring right back at you from a few tables over. Her hair is slicked back into a low bun and she has one too many buttons of her white shirt undone - she's hot and she knows it. You still can't figure out if that's annoying or, unfortunately, attractive. The aura that exudes off of her hits you even from across the room, a combination of confidence and a smugness that gets under your skin in the best way.
It's at this moment that a short intermission is announced, allowing for people to go to the bathroom or fetch a drink and some snacks, or whatever they care to do. All you know is that there's a certain person in the room you've got to see and you need a new beverage, so you head to the bar.
Except, you're stopped in your tracks along the way. A body blocks you from going any further as she side-steps in front of you and shoves a champagne flute into your hand. In her hand is a sweet Manhattan cocktail, one with a cherry in it that immediately catches your eye. This is your chance to equal the score.
Maintaining eye contact with her, you delicately take the cherry and, with the most innocent look you could muster from under your eyelashes, you bite it from the stem. Those same piercing blue eyes track every movement of yours, from the moment you snatched it from her drink to the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed. In the low light, you manage to make out the sight of her pupils tripling in size, and just like that, the cards are in your favour again.
Before Leah can react, you're sauntering away without a word having been exchanged, and you can feel her staring incessantly at you as you drop back into the ocean of people in the room. She curses under her breath, downs her drink, and heads back to the bar.
After that interaction, you actually did fall into an invigorating conversation with the people on your table. You discredited them, in the midst of your tunnel vision you didn't realise who it was you were sat with. Turns out, they're some fascinating people who you could really do with speaking to again soon.
It's as you're talking to one of them, offering to go collect a tray of drinks for the table, that someone leans over you and refills your glass with more champagne. Initially, you guess it's just one of the event workers, but then those damned Arsenal earrings jump into view and your senses are overcome with her perfume. If she asked why there were goosebumps on your arms, you'd shrug and blame it on the chill of the hall. But, your question is, where the fuck did she get a whole bottle of champagne from?
She leaves as quickly as she arrived, leaving only a trace of her signature scent in her wind. You jut your tongue into your cheek momentarily - that was a bold move by the defender. It obviously caught the attention of the people on your table who were feeling as if they may have interrupted perhaps a private moment, but you wave them off and swiftly switch topics.
To their rather inquisitive annoyance, they demand you go get the drinks you'd offered to get since you weren't going to tell them about... whatever had just happened. So you do, you take your champagne flute with you and wander over to the bar with a focused look on your face, waiting for the right time to strike and get your payback.
That happens sooner than you could have guessed, and it forces a smirk upon your face as you approach your prey that's trapped in a seemingly boring conversation, judging by the unimpressed look on her face. She doesn't see you coming, her arms are crossed over her chest and her mouth is down-turned into a frown, another beer bottle in her hand. You see her sigh as you get closer, her head on a swivel but looking in entirely the wrong direction.
The set up is perfect, perfect for you to be able to walk past her straight to the bar with a little taunting. However, you're feeling bolder now, urged on by the alcohol in your system. Instead of a simple brush along her body, your free hand drops down to slide under her blazer and sleaze dangerously low across her toned back. It's a lingering touch, you don't pull your hand away until the very last second. You don't have to look back at her to know she's watching you go.
To both your individual irritation, the next hour or so of the night doesn't allow for anymore sly digs and heated encounters. It's so unbelievably dull, just ramble after ramble of people bragging and kissing each other's ass as they speak. It gets to around forty-five minutes of this bullshit before a spiteful plan forms in your head.
A few of the people on your table had switched seats, ensuring they get the most out of the night. You didn't care for it all, zoning out countless times so far, but when the guy beside you turns to you with a blissfully oblivious smile on his face, you know what you have to do.
The next however long, you converse with this guy more and indulge him in pointless topics that really are so fucking stale and tedious, but you have to play the long game here. And before you'd even done anything half as interesting yet, there's already daggers being forced into the side of your face.
It all comes to a head when you laugh and swat his shoulder in an exaggerated manner, giggling like a school girl at... honestly, you couldn't even remember. But he lavished in your amusement, shuffling his chair ever so slightly closer and throwing an arm around the back of your chair. He brushes his hair back with his other hand, exposing his less than favourable hairline, and really you have to hold back a gag at the fact you're doing this.
At that point, you decide you have to get away from him and his dreary, lifeless, and nonexistent charisma. So you throw one last look at Leah's direction, stifling a grin at her flared nostrils and completely unimpressed demeanour, before excusing yourself from your conversation and sliding out from your seat. Whether Leah had the guts to follow you or not, you weren't sure, but you were just glad you were away from that guy.
Unbeknownst to you, Leah had suddenly gotten up from her chair the second she saw you rise, and she was marching through the room to pace after you. The game was entirely forgotten for her at this point, the image of you with him tattooed on her eyelids. Immaturely, she had to stop herself from spitting at him as she walked past, settling for a warning glare instead.
You have all of two seconds to yourself in the bathroom, checking yourself out in the mirror, before the door slams against the wall with a resounding thud. A gloating smirk is on your face from the moment she walks in, and you stare at her for a moment then turn back to the mirror, pretending to fix your lipstick.
"Really?" Leah shrugged her shoulders more aggressively than you had ever seen anyone before, holding her hands out in an outraged gesture. "You really did that?"
"S'just the game, Leah. You know that." You replied simply, resisting the urge to meet her stare.
It's silent between you both then, possibly the most charged silence you've ever found yourself in. Leah takes a few mindless steps around the room without a particular direction, eyes flicking back to you every second. At once, she stops, just off to your side, and slips her hands into the pockets of her black slacks, kissing her teeth and raising her eyebrows at you. The moment she goes to say something, there's voices coming from the corridor leading to the bathroom. You turn to look at her then, daring her to act first.
She does.
She takes full advantage of the moment, gripping your upper arm tightly and tugging you into one of the cubicles. You gasp quietly in shock, caught off-guard by her actions, and you grumble unintelligibly at the triumphant grin on her face. Her hands are tight on your hips, meanwhile yours are crossed over your chest in disapproval.
"Flirting with a guy? That's a new low." Leah taunted, each stroke of her thumb unintentionally raising the fabric of your black dress.
"Says the one that's so riled up, she dragged me into a toilet cubicle." You hit back, refusing to give in. Leah just shrugs, purses her lips, and takes a quick glance down to your now exposed thigh before looking back at you.
"I'm not riled up. You're the one getting antsy here, you know I'm winning and that's why you had to start feeling up that scraggly arsehole out there. Think again, sweetheart." Fuck, she might have gotten you there.
"Maybe I found him attractive." It's a weak defence, even you know that. Leah knew it too, if the slight raise of one eyebrow was anything to go by.
"Okay. One, you're in a relationship. Two, you're in a lesbian relationship. Three, you hear that?" She looks around in feigned confusion, cupping her hand around her ear briefly before turning back to you in what looks like a stupid, cartoon light bulb moment. "Oh yeah, you're pretty fucking gay!"
You roll your eyes and huff, shaking your head at her idiocy and turning your attention to the wall behind her.
"What was his name? Tell me about him, if he was attractive enough to feel the need to flirt with him." She was picking and choosing every teasing remark from the file in her mind to get under your skin.
"...his name was Dirk." The bark of laughter she lets out at that makes you flinch a little. Maybe his name was a little amusing, but right now to you there wasn't a single funny thing on earth.
"Dirk? Really? Did he come with a Swiss army knife and a granola bar in his pocket? Did he have a flannel shirt under his knit sweater? And a tent in his car, ready for a hike through the Grand Canyon?"
As it turns out, your last thought was a little far off.
The giggle bubbles out of you before you can think to stop it, and you lightly push Leah's face away from you with a hand to her cheek. She turns back to you with a grin, knowing she had won this evening. To be fair, she has won nearly every evening so far. She was on a winning streak you really had no plans of stopping. Not when it got you to this moment here, at the end of it.
"Out of all the guys in the room, I chose a pretty shit one." You surrendered in a murmur, Leah nodding.
"It's alright, look who you get to go home with."
Her voice had dropped to a whisper as she stepped further into your space, her nose nudging against your jaw where her mouth rested just above your pulse point. The shivers you got without even barely being touched were enough of a reaction for her. But, she was greedy when it came to you.
One arm slipped around your waist, holding you to her tightly as her large hand splayed out across your lower back. Her head dipped further down, her lips moving to press open-mouthed kisses to your exposed collarbone.
"Let's get out of here. I'm done now." She murmured into your skin, turning her face more toward your neck and leaving softer, slower pecks there.
"Don't you wanna get your payback? Otherwise you're giving up the win. I was more than ready to get back out there, the night isn't over." You were lying, you were more than ready to get the hell out of here, but you also weren't going to pass up on the chance to tease her just once more.
"I'll get my payback when we get to the hotel."
That's all she needed to say.
These nights had a certain characteristic to them, and that was possibly the most anticipated time of the evening. As the hosts draw out the end of the event, thanking people you've never heard of and have a large lack of care for, you and Leah were already gone.
Normally, it was a fierce wait, hanging on to the other's every move, everything else in the room simply just background noise, as you wait for who blinks first. Who gives in to the tension and ends the night before the lights come up, before the eyes of the room see you chase one another to the exit.
Tonight though, neither of you have the patience.
Regardless of the time you leave, it's the same situation every time for your organised driver; he drops you off and, under strict instruction by his management, waits for you to come back so he can drive you to the hotel or wherever you want to go. Except, you never come, he doesn't see you for the rest of the night once you enter the building. He's used to it by now, a little in love with it since he's getting paid for nothing, he just has to wait for your inevitable apology text telling him you won't be needing a ride home.
Tonight is just like the others - Leah ushers you into the back of an Uber with a hand on your waist, sliding in beside you and slamming the door shut with a smirk on her face after she gives one last glance around. There's never anyone watching, nobody knows where to look and nobody probably even cares, but she does it anyway. She could imagine the articles that might get written about her if the pair of you were ever spotted, and that fuels her even more. Maybe that's the alcohol in her system, but the thoughts run through her veins and she can't help but turn to you, grab your face, and dive into a kiss that's desperate and hot, and the tension of the night reaches its peak.
The cab driver just shakes his head, pulling away from the curb as the pair of you stay stuck in your own world. It's a few minutes later when you both pull away, cheeks flushed red and lips a tad swollen as you put your belts on. Straight away, Leah's hand falls to your lap and you hold it tightly with both of your own, looking up at her with a certain feeling swirling through your eyes that drives her crazy. Her hand moves, then, to the back of your neck as she pushes you towards her for another urgent kiss.
"You're lucky I'm not really the jealous type. I could have done a lot worse in there when you started flirting with Dirk." She comments breathlessly after, a displeased quirk to her mouth that hints she is in fact somewhat jealous.
"I'll make sure to do a better job next time then." You tell her in a feigned nonchalant way.
Leah stared at you then, her hand clutching the back of your neck as she gave you a look that warned you to not even think about such things. To be honest, you couldn't. You were hers just as much as she was yours. There was no other way to live than like that.
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hana-no-seiiki · 3 days
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WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 2)
YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER
[ ACT ONE HERE ]
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cw/tw: mentally ill reader. schizophrenic reader. reader w/ abandonment issues. manipulative reader. crimes. arson.
summary: we dive deeper into Gotham's explosive personality and history with those that took the title of ‘boy wonder’
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MORE ON YOUR ORIGINS
“They were right! You’re just a Jinx.”
“Everybody shut up! I need to think!”
“We weren’t . . . “
As much as you scared the crap out of Joker’s goons. Since they saw you grow up first hand. A lot of them tended to be overprotective over you.
I mean, they’re insane enough to follow Joker. What more you?
They see you as his successor. An heir of sorts.
Which is why Jason Todd felt like he had no choice but to either fix you or keep you locked up.
You don’t remember much of him. If you did you would hate him.
He was the one that essentially helped you pull the trigger on your family.
If you haven’t read my other posts about it, here’s the rundown.
Jason had a massive crush on reader when the two of em were kids. Prior to everything. Before he was adopted, before reader set their world ablaze, before shit hit the fan essentially.
He saw how neglected you felt. The rejection you faced from your peers for not being strong enough. For being small and weak.
Him and your sister were pretty popular amongst the kids but it only made the comparisons worse.
It was always how they were “twice the kids at [Y/N]’s age.”
And so he thought of a little gift. Just a little something to show the others how cool you really are.
He didn’t expect you to use it that way. And the worst part of it all, he wasn’t there to comfort you. I mean sure, dozens of people died that day. Many of which he was somewhat fond of. But he was sure they’d want him to comfort you. To say that it wasn’t your fault.
And despite all that, you only knew Jason as that one guy Joker went too far with.
“Hey, [N/N].”
The call of your name almost froze you on the spot. Their screams pushed forward from the back of your mind into the forefront. You didn’t think. Your hands just pulled the trigger of your machine gun on its own.
“Who the hell are you?” You grit your teeth. You’ve heard of this Red Hood going around and ruining your adoptive father’s plans lately.
And what’s worse? The man kept forcing you to stay away. Plying you with all sorts of prostitutes and all the money you could ever need or want.
Despite your hostile disposition, the man in question doesn’t return it. “I’m sorry. This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you behind.”
“Leave.” You lowered your machine gun. A sudden wave of drowsiness overwhelmed you. A sense of calm. Weakness. Everything was screaming at you to end the source. But if he kept dodging your bullets them perhaps diplomacy would work.
You breathed out. [Y/N]. That name, that identity — though it fell down a well and was long dead it still had it uses.
Softened voice, doe eyes, and posture loose. If you had no other weapon they you always had your vulnerability.
“You need to leave, Joker is coming soon and I can’t help you if you’re caught.”
“Who was that, Jinx?” Joker asked.
You turned around. Your eyes meeting his chest and then his face, where that wide, freakish grin was stuck unto him.
“Old man, I think you mean what.” The toxic pink glint flashed through your eyes as you once again buried your old self along with the rest of the corpses that have met their demise by your hand.
“Meet Fishbones.”
BACK TO YOUR RIVAL:
Recently Tim had been . . . more agreeable to your demands somewhat?
You could tell he was pulling his punches.
Sometimes he’d even join you in your exploits.
You never trusted him of course. You never trusted anyone but yourself. But he was fun to be around is all. Whether it was you two beating each other to near death or blowing up buildings (he made sure to evacuate its residents before you two went all out).
“You know. I kinda wanna blow up that building. Don’t you think we’ll have a better view of the sky that way, Timmy?” You pointed to the structure with your signature gun shaped hand gesture.
That was one of Bruce’s buildings.
“You . . . “ Tim blinked at you a couple of times. “are so right.”
“Let’s go.” You yanked him the hand.
Tim smiled. Even if he wasn’t making direct contact with your skin, and you with his — he couldn’t help but smile at the intimacy of this moment. What were his worries with you beside him? All the sadness and anger felt so fleeting when he was with you.
His glee almost costed him his life as it took him a couple of moments to realize that you have pushed him off a building after a while of parkour.
He managed to grapple himself back, and with your assistance, he got back up to the ledge you two were on.
He gave you one half hearted glare. You laugh at his face, “You’re such a loser! Always ready to cry! Wah wah wah!” And you set off. Getting within the building with no care for stealth whatsoever.
What was the point of being all sneaky like when you had bombs on you?
"Wait up! Get back here!" Tim ran after you. He didn’t mind that you were essentially destroying all his and Bruce’s hard-work on his industries, but you were being too reckless. He would sure as hell minded if you were caught.
Turns out he wasn’t so far off when it came to his fears and suspicions.
“You. You set me up.” You glared at him. Hands on your blaster. Ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Your eyes flicking between the men in front of you, wondering who was best to pick off first.
Batman, Nightwing, or the man you stupidly thought was your friend.
“No. No you have to believe me I—“ Tim tried to explain. But Dick cuts him off, “Good job, we couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You traitor. I knew it. I knew it.” Your voice got weaker and weaker.
No, no, no. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t part of the plan. Tim was supposed to be with you for longer.
“I told you, you have no choice.” Bruce finally spoke. His cape moved to his back.
He wasn’t going to let you go. Not without making it bloody.
“Oh, boohoo. You’ve always been no fun!” Your eyes never leave the two dark suited men, but Tim knew you were speaking to him. “Good thing I never trusted you.”
And you take a deep breath, dropping the laughing gas Harley gave you for emergencies. It wasn’t as strong as the original one, hell you’re sure that those people probably expected that move. But it at least blocked their line of sights on you, allowing you to create some distance.
You managed to get far enough to ready your weapons and send a call of help to your adoptive parents before your prediction proved to be true — footsteps behind you; loud and clear.
“Look’s like we’ve got even more company. Huh, boy savior?”
“Don’t move and I won’t cut you down.”
Pow pow in your hand, and desperation in your mind. The last thing you heard is a blade unsheathing before you pull the trigger.
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writerpetals · 3 days
Text
costume | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁���
w; wolfhybrid!reader, roommate!au, unprotected sex, wolf in heat and a shocking revelation... lol
Falling into your heat had proven to be just as frustrating as it was tiring. Trying not to succumb to the urges of the sexual arousal and the need to mate once a year had its difficulties, and no matter how hard you tried to ignore the cravings and desires to pounce on the first person that walked your way, it seemed as if nothing could rid your body of the aches and pains over every inch.
Luckily for you, you were only a hybrid and not a full-fledged werewolf, knowing that if you were, the few days of suffering would be far more severe and last much, much longer. Yet, you were only left with a set of perky, chocolate brown ears and fluffy tail to match you could never shift out of, as well as a heat every year you had to try to resist ever since your eighteenth birthday.
Previous years hadn’t been too difficult to manage due to locking yourself away for the few days it lasted, ignoring everyone that bothered you while binging on snacks and your favorite TV shows until the moment you could step outside once again without attacking an unsuspecting man. Unfortunately, your current heat had a bit more temptation the moment you moved in with your new roommate you felt attraction toward since the moment you first laid eyes on him.
Just his presence alone sent your body into overdrive on normal days, with your heightened sense of smell picking up his alluring scent and your hormones overwhelming you more than any human could ever understand. Six months living with him, getting to know him, and falling deeper into what you tried to ignore as being a crush did nothing but elevate your emotions.  However, he could never know of what you were, finding it easy to hide your tail beneath large sweatshirts and ears beneath a loose cap. He never questioned you, or even thought twice about your attire, knowing you had picked possibly the best, yet worst, individual to room with.
On the first day of your heat, you managed to lock yourself in your room while attempting to desperately relieve your body of the ache, never coming out or even answering him when he asked if you wanted dinner or to see if you were okay. The second day had been worse due to the thoughts of him that filled your head, quickly becoming ashamed of the more than naughty images racing through your mind, and thanks to your advanced hearing, even the sounds of him breathing in the room next to you had you shoving your hands between your thighs for a momentary release.
On the third day, luck seemed to be on your side, waking up to find him long gone and the apartment to yourself. Finally, you could relax for even a little bit while making yourself a pot of coffee and breakfast, but not before rummaging through his pile of clothes on the floor of his room. You knew you shouldn’t have, but even just his smell being so close to you could ease the irritation in your body, quickly slipping out of your own clothes to adorn his comfortable, white knit sweater before making your way back to the kitchen.
The smell of him flooded your nose, relaxing you enough as if it were a drug as the thoughts of him filled your mind once again. Though, you managed to eat and sip on your coffee in peace, all while cuddling up on the sofa in thigh-high, black stockings and pillows around you to keep warm, not bothering to cover your ears or tail thanks to being alone.
The worries seemed to drift from your mind before you knew it, deciding to flip on the TV after breakfast in a change of scenery after watching the leaves falling outside your apartment from the living room window. So much so, that in the middle of the horrible horror movie you had switched it to, you managed to doze off, arms wrapped snug around the pillow in your grasp and your head resting against the arm of the couch.
With your legs comfortably tucked beneath you, a light dozing off turns into heavy sleep thanks to not having much the past two nights with your roommate so close. Your body relaxes enough, even if the desires and urges still remain inside of you, allowing you a moment’s rest in the warmth of pillows and a comfy sweater, as well as dreams of your attractive roommate that could never know what you truly are.
And while the visions of him swarm your mind, you fall asleep long enough to allow the minutes to turn into hours and the hours to pass until a light nudge and a call of your name alerts you. Eyes popping open, his smell floods your senses even before your vision sharpened to see him standing in front of you.
“Hey sleepy head,” he greets you nonchalantly, laughing with his teeth flashing and you try to hold your breath so as to not become so overwhelmed in him in the moment, wondering how long you would last before passing out. “Preparing for Halloween early? It’s still months away.”
“H-huh?”  You gasp, unable to last long enough before your lungs grow too tight. But his scent isn’t the only problem. Not when he is right in front of you. Not when you only have to reach out to touch, to grab, to hold.
“Your ears!” In an instant, he reaches out to touch with a brush of a few fingers, not realizing what exactly he is doing as every inch of your body lit up with desire all over again. “Oh! You’re really soft!”
“Huh, oh, um…” you mutter, closing your eyes to not have to look at him while jumping up from the couch. In seconds the urgency of needing release rips through your body, a burn starting from between your thighs spreading to every inch of you and it is all you can do to keep yourself up straight. “I-I’m not feeling well… I, I need to go…”
However, your stuttering words go unheard beneath your breath. He’s too fascinated with your “costume” as he brushes his hand along the tail poking out from his sweater. “Your tail matches, too!” he exclaims excitedly, earning a sharp glance of your eyes once your body turns to face him. “Hey, is that my sweat-”
He can’t finish his sentence before you are on him, pouncing, attacking, his back hitting the floor and his head would have too if it weren’t for your fingers threaded between the strands of his hair. Lips crashing into his, he doesn’t have a moment’s notice to protest before your body pushes into his own, hips grinding over him as the animal inside you unleashes.
Much to your surprise, he never pushes you away, only hesitating for a moment as the reality kicks in and his hands find your waist in no time, leaning into your lips with a groan to let you know he has no intentions to stop you. You nearly devour him, sloppy kisses painting his mouth as you whimper against his flesh, rolling your hips harder against his body to feel him stiffening between your thighs.
“Wh-what’s gotten… into you?” He gasps between kisses, and finally your mouth lowers to begin tending to his jaw and neck, kissing, nibbling, licking, and biting to earn his enticing groans.
“I need you,” you whisper in his ear, pressing yourself harder against his arousal to make him see how much you mean the words.
“You’re normally… so shy… and quiet, I don’t… understand.” The words barely leave his lips between grunts and groans, sighs and gasps, feeling your teeth scrape against his skin. “Not that I… that I’m complaining, it’s just… holy shit…” At that moment, feeling you begin to rock your hips harder, faster, against his clothed cock has him speechless, only curses leaving his lips, unable to form sentences thanks to the overwhelming need that fills him just the same.
“Something in me snapped,” you nearly growlin his ear, fingers traveling lower to begin pushing his shirt above his head. Getting the hint, he quickly tugs the thin fabric from his body to toss aside, leaving himself open for your lips to roam wherever you pleased. “Something you wouldn’t understand, but I need you so fucking bad. Please.”
“Fuck, baby,” he whimpers, so vulnerable and helpless beneath you as your mouth and teeth leave marks over his chest to begin to claim him as your own, warning anyone else he is spoken for. “I had no idea… you felt… this way.” Every syllable strains against his tongue, your motions taking the words from his body as his breaths deepened with every action.
“Please,” you beg, “I need you.” Your cries continue to release muffled against his flesh, but he gets the hint, quickly agreeing moments before reaching to peel the sweater from your body to find you surprisingly bare beneath, not bothering with the black stockings or “costume”, as he would remain to believe.
In fact, you assume he enjoys it, not seeming to care one bit once his hands have slipped from your hips to your breasts, causing you to lean into him, enjoying the way he tends to your burning hot flesh so desperate for release. His thumbs tease your hardened nipples, earning a gasp before moans spill from your lips, and you never stop grinding against his cock, causing him to grow impatient beneath you.
Though, you make it clear you are in control, as well as your need to have him once you push his hands away to begin tugging on his button and zipper of his jeans, easing them down his hips along with his boxer-briefs a moment later to uncover his arousal needing just as much attention. Eager fingers wrapping around his girth never hesitate in stroking him a few times, watching his face twist and turn in pleasure with a bitten lip to seal the deal.
Yet, your body grows too hungry in need to have him, quickly maneuvering with your aching center directly above the tip of his cock, holding him steady while sinking onto his length to earn the deepest, sexiest moan you had ever heard from another. His voice suddenly grows raspy, too weak to speak, mind spinning enough to not be able to function once he fills you to the brim, holding yourself still a moment to adjust to the sensation before gripping him by the wrists.
With each of his arms pinned near his head, your hips begin to move, earning another delicious sigh from his lips before a groan follows. You can’t deny loving the way his head rolls back, his eyes shut, and he lets you take control of his body to offer yourself release, beginning to move your hips faster as your grip on him tightens.
“God, you feel so good inside, filling me up,” you whimper near his trembling lips, losing control of your thoughts as any and everything begins to slip from your tongue from the pure satisfaction you feel finally having him for your own. “I want to make you mine. I want to have you forever, anytime I please. I want to make you feel good.”
The true animal in you has taken form with its own desires to have him as your one and only mate, with him not understanding any of what you meant but agreeing to every word with a groan of his own as your motions quicken in pace. Juices drip from your core each time you raise your hips to thrust yourself back onto him, causing him to mutter curses beneath his breath from the pleasure.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans once again, bliss filling his every word as his hips begin to move between your thighs to meet your motions, “you can fucking have me.” Unaware of what he has committed to, his agreement only fuels your craving to mark him, mate with him, and make him yours, losing all control of yourself as the wolf inside of you consumes every inch.
His groans and heavy exhales are soon drowned out by your moans, sounds of ecstasy creating an erotic symphony between the two of you as you feel the pleasure building from between your thighs. Your body trembles against him, pressing his wrists harder to the wood floors of the living room while grinding harder, and faster, and harder, and faster against him.
It isn’t until the shudder of the first wave of bliss courses through you do you slow down, body nearly collapsing against him as you try to hold yourself steady, quivering over him with a call of his name. He begins pumping himself faster from below as you ride out your bliss, whimpering, muttering his name, shaking, nails digging into his skin with your walls clenching around him.
A gasp slips from your lips once you begin to come down from your ecstasy, finding yourself overwhelmed and beyond sensitive with his cock continuing to bury deep within you over and over again. However, it only takes a few moments before the animal urge inside of you appears once more, finding yourself in a dire need of release once again thanks to the frustrating heat your body currently endures.
Your hips begin to move, tightening your grip on his arms once again as you grind yourself against him, becoming greedy, lust filling your entire being for the second time as your pace increases.
“Goddamn, baby,” he whispers between clenched teeth, knuckles turning from his tight fists as you begin to ride him all over again, “do you want to come again?”
“I-I need to,” you whimper in return, closing your eyes, pressing your forehead against his. Except, for the second time, it was much more of a need than a pleasure. “I need to come again.” Relief only lasted for a moment before the ache between your thighs returned, wondering how much more you can take before giving out.
“Let go of my hands,” he commands, “and I’ll make you come, baby.”
Your instincts need you to be in control, but his convincing tone has you releasing him in an instant, only taking a moment before you are being gently pushed off of him and onto your knees. He doesn’t hesitate to position himself on his knees as well, only now behind you as he lines up his cock with your entrance. His hand presses to the small of your back, just above your tail but he pays it no mind as he thrusts himself inside of you.
Instantly he is met with your hips pushing against him, wanting more, needing all of him. A desperate moan fills the room from your lips, followed by a gasp as he pulls away to fill you up all over again, driving you wild as he takes control. Nails digging into the wooden floors, your face pressing into its surface, your back arching and your hips pressing to his body as he fucks you from behind earns nothing but whimpers, curses, moans, and his name leaving your lips to beg him not to stop.
Your jaw slacks when he enters you deeper, hands on your hips, fingers pressing hard enough into your skin to leave marks, but you can’t deny how you love every moment of it. You need to be in control, and now you need him to offer release, letting him have you in the same ways you had him and you are only seconds from slipping over the edge into pure bliss once his thrusts become more aggressive.
Crying out, the pleasure swells to every inch of your trembling body, losing composure as you nearly slump to the floor, if only it weren’t for his tight grip holding you steady. He never slows his pace, earning every moan through your bliss each time he enters you deeper and deeper, filling you up as you come undone before him.
After a few moments you are overwhelmed once again, thankful the urges would subside for the time being, but he still needs to reach his end. Offering yourself to him for him to find his own pleasure, you clench your dripping walls around him tighter, squeezing his cock to earn grunts and groans until his grip on you loosens, allowing him to lose control of himself for the moment.
His pace slows as he releases within you, losing momentum before doubling over with his chest pressing to your back. Gasping, you finally slip to the floor, having no strength or energy to hold yourself up after days of sexual frustration left your body all at once. He follows behind after easing out of you, finding comfort laying next to you on the floor as neither of you speak a word, the tension beginning to build once reality sets in of what just happened.
You finally mutter a whisper of his name, eyes screwing shut as the embarrassment floods you. For the first time in days you can think straight, the haze over your mind cleared and the lust, while still unbelievably attracted to him, has settled for the moment. “I, um, well… I-”
“You’re an animal,” he chuckles, wrapping an arm around you while nuzzling closer to your back. “I could hardly keep up, baby.”
“Uh, yeah,” you say, followed by a nervous laugh, thankful he can’t see the way your brow wrinkles at his words. If only he knew how true the statement is. “I… need to go get cleaned up. Uh, thanks!”
With the awkwardness creeping into the moment, you push him away, jumping up from the floor while trying to cover yourself. Though, you know there is no need to hide, not when he has seen everything you have to offer, and clearly he doesn’t mind one bit.
“Thanks?” he laughs once again. “That’s it?” While grinning playfully, he watches you nervously nod your head, realizing you have more mood shifts than anyone he has ever known.
Not that you can blame him. His normally shy, quiet roommate has truly turned into the animal he joked about, dominating him, taking control and using him to find release twice, and then suddenly becoming insecure while nearly combusting at the embarrassment. You can only blame your heat for getting you into such a mess, trying to push the thoughts aside while rushing to the bathroom for a shower.
He doesn’t seem to mind you using him for your own pleasure, and he makes it clear the moment the urges start to rise again and you find yourself sneaking into his room in the middle of the night, where you would claim him as your own for a second time, and then a third time once morning came.
Though, he is always curious why you want to keep your costume on.
***
Since the day you pounced him in the living room when he caught you napping on the couch without bothering to hide your ears or tail, you can hardly keep your hands off of him. The need to mark him and make him yours, claim him and own him, only worsen as the days passed and you can hardly control yourself in his presence.
You manage, somehow. Though, it is far from easy and the fact that he is so willing makes it harder to keep yourself in control. Even if your heat has passed, there is something about him that draws you to him. It is far beyond sexual, as if the two of you are made for each other.
The only thing making it so damn difficult is him still not knowing what you are. And you, being you, are too scared to confess in fear of him being absolutely disgusted, or worse. You need him in more ways than just physical, and risking losing him altogether just doesn’t sit well with you. That fact alone lessens the temptation, but only by a bit.
Because he is still him, and once you got a taste of him, you only want more. With his every move, the smell of him floods your nose. So intoxicating it is, making you lightheaded in a moment’s notice with something humans never notice themselves. You find yourself rolling around his bed when he isn't home, wanting more of him, touching yourself against his sheets just to rid your body of the desperation.
When he laughs or smiles, the heat instantly floods between your legs. When he talks you ache and when he touches you… well, you don’t let him touch you. For his sake, as well as your own, knowing he is one wrong move away from you pouncing him once again.
Until the day comes when he becomes far too curious of the hats you always wear on your head. You have been lounging on the sofa while he has been rummaging in the kitchen for something to eat. Peeking his head around the corner, he asks if you want anything, to which you tell him no just to be rid of him. Even if the guilt bubbles in your chest, you know you can’t be around him for too long. It is too tempting. And he smells too damn good; you could devour him in seconds if he allowed it.
But without warning, he snatches the beanie from your head teasingly after feeling as if you are brushing him off while not knowing what he is getting himself into you. Jumping up from the couch, a low rumble emits from your chest out of instinct, until you see his eyes growing wide. Then seconds pass as the two of you stare at one another. He takes in the sight of the same fluffy ears and you study the way his expression changes.
“The… the ears?” he mutters, warmth rushing to your cheeks. You remain silent, gaze finally falling to the floor as your ears flatten in embarrassment, assuming he’s thinking the worst. “You’re… still wearing them?” He doesn’t question how they can move on their own. Maybe he thinks they’re mechanical, and if it were any other time when you weren’t currently aching for him between your thighs, you would have laughed off the thought.
You nod slowly at the question, catching his eye only for a moment to see the confusion written in his features before you’re too timid to look away. He steps closer to you while you both stand in your living room, looking you up and down as you shrink beneath his gaze.
“And your tail?” he asks, looking behind you even though your longer sweater covers it up.
“Y-Yes.”
“Why? Is this some roleplay thing?” He chuckles as he asks, running his long, slender fingers over your ears to make you shudder. “Because if it is, I’m totally into it.”
“Really?” Your eyes widen, seeing him nod and it’s enough for you to grip a fistful of his t-shirt and pull him in. His lips come crashing down onto yours without another thought. The both of you groan and moan against each other’s lips as you struggle to pull him closer, and closer, and so close he’s stumbling backwards onto the couch.
Your body collapses on top of him before he’s pulling your sweater over your head, surprised to see you have nothing on underneath if only so your tail isn’t crammed inside restricting pants or panties for once. And that tail comes swishing out, like the happy little puppy he has made you, even though your inner wolf has you nearly growling as you attack his neck. Nibbles against his skin earn breathy calls of your name, but you’re too far gone to stop now. The need to mark him and claim him overwhelms you as you forcefully push his back to the sofa, earning a grunt when you straddle his arousal.
His cock strains against his jeans by the time you start grinding yourself against him. Small licks against his throat have him gripping your hips tighter, but you leave your scent all over him so no one will ever want to touch him again. Even if it’s wrong and even if you have no right to do so, you’re making him yours whether he’s aware or not.
“I-I need you,” you whimper against his throat, a few stray whines following the words. “I want to make you mine. I need to make you mine.” Sweat begins to bead against your skin. You’re so worked up, and hot, and desperate for him, yet he has no idea what’s even going on inside your body. Fucking him the first time left it’s mark on you permanently, and you never want to go without him again.
“Why-” He gulps, struggling to speak. “Why didn’t you speak up before? You… should have… told me.” He can barely manage to get the words out from the way you’re rolling your hips against him. Sure enough there will be a soiled spot in his jeans from your arousal, but it’s better than way. Easier to mark him. Easier to make him yours.
“Please,” you whimper, high-pitched and desperate, continuing to grind against his hard cock beneath his jeans and your hips are moving faster and faster, so tempted to come right then. “I need to ride you and come. I need to mark you with my scent and make you mine.”
“Is-Is this p-part of the role playing?” His eyes roll in the back of his head the long he feels you easing the tension of your body by rubbing yourself against him. His chest heaves beneath your fingertips and he gasps for air as you nip and tug at his ear. “God, baby, do whatever the fuck you want to me.”
“Tell me,” you whisper through clenched teeth, the heat flooding every inch of your body and feeling as if you’ll combust any second. “Give me permission to make you mine, please. I need to hear you say it.”
“I-I’m yours baby, fuck. Fucking ride m-me if you w-want.” His hips buck beneath you as he attempts to hold you in place with hands on your hips, but he only earns a growl in return as you grip his wrists to pin above his head. “Fuck, if you ke-keep grinding on me like that, I’m gonna fucking come in my pants.”
The thought sounds tempting, knowing you would love your mate to be at his wit’s end and so beyond frustrated if only to make the pleasure that much sweeter, but you opt for raising your body off of him. Instead, you tug on his jeans after unfastening the buttons until his pants and boxers are low enough for his cock to spring free, all the while he’s pulling his shirt over his head to toss aside. Gripping him, you waste no time lowering your mouth to run your longe along the underside of his length, watching him twitch and listening to him hiss, struggling to keep his composure.
The sounds only light a fire inside of you, hotter than before and you decide you want to watch him squirm and pant and moan beneath you. You take the tip of his cock in your mouth, slowly swirling your tongue around before lowering to take all of him. Even if you’re not experienced, you’re worked up enough to try to ease his cock in your mouth until the tip hits the back of your throat, and you quickly pull away to gasp for a breath of air. His hips buck at the motion, and you love the husky noises he makes as you take him again.
You coat his cock in your saliva - the first step in marking him to cover his skin in your scent - working your tongue around the tip once again before he’s slipping past your lips. You moan against him, vibrating his flesh because you love the way he feels in your mouth. And his hips buck once again as his head falls back against the couch, wanting to look at you devouring his cock, yet he lacks the strength.
Pumping him a few times in your fist, you listen to the breathy releases from his lips, the groans deep in his chest, while you bob your head against his cock and massage him with your tongue. It’s a sight to behold, and if you weren’t in such a desperate need to claim him, you would suck him until he explodes in your mouth so you can swallow every drop. Because if you’re being honest with yourself, the need to mate him only comes with the need to cherish him in every way.
You want to be his just as badly, worshipping and serving him if he wishes, though you know being with a human isn’t as intense as another wolf. Since you’re a hybrid, even less so, but the instincts are still there and you need to make your territory known even if there isn't a threat just yet.
When you pull away from him, you hear a few hesitant mumbles of dissatisfaction, but you ignore him to press kisses up his stomach. Running your tongue along every muscle that tenses beneath your touch, you lay claim to him as if he were your property, and as you crawl up his body, he soon will be.
“I need to mark you while I come,” you groan against his ear, not being able to stop pressing kisses over his mouth, jaw, neck, anywhere you can reach.
“What does that…” He exhales deeply as your teeth scrape skin. “What does that even mean? Fuck, baby.” His hands begin to wander, easing up your bare sides before cupping your breasts.
He just can’t help himself, and you don’t mind as your chest juts into his palms and you whimper over his flesh. “God, you’re so hot. Are you sick or something? You’re burning up.” Naturally wolves' temperatures are warmer, but it’s not something you can explain to him so you ignore the question. It doesn’t distract him enough to pull his hands from your body regardless, feeling his fingers brush against your erect nipples as surges of pleasure shoot through your entire body. .
“I’m going to ride your face,” you tell him as the last few words release in a desperate whimper at just the thought of him being between your thighs. “And I’m going to come on your face and you’re going to lick every drop until I tell you to stop. Do you understand?”
“Jesus Christ,” he groans, staring up at you with wide eyes as he licks his lips. “Yes, fuck, I understand. Just sit on my face already, baby. Let me make you come.”
His eagerness pleases you more than you realize, butterflies swarming your stomach knowing he would make an excellent mate if he was a wolf, but he will do well enough even as a human. Though, if he were a wolf, you would be far from in control of the situation, so being with him is far more pleasing.
You climb higher over his body, all the way until you’re resting a knee on each side of his head, your dripping core hovering above his face. Instantly his hands are on your hips, urging you lower until you’re close enough for his tongue to brush over your folds. A sudden gasp fills the living room, body trembling with need over him as the simplest of touches begin to drive you wild.
“Lower, baby,” he guides you, and suddenly you’re feeling less confident as the need for release overwhelms you. Your body lowers just a bit, allowing his tongue to press to your slit as you shiver against him. A desperate whimper spills from your lips, so hot and needy and dying to have his tongue tend to your aching body. You’re completely still, other than the quivering in your bones, as he parts your folds with his tongue before dipping inside your entrance, only to make his way to your throbbing, aching clit to earn another gasp.
“Fuck,” you whimper on top of him, hands lowering to lace your fingers through his hair, “fuck, that’s it. Please, make me come.”
The words you breathlessly speak drive him to go further, tongue caressing your clit back and forth before licking a few long strokes over the hood of your clit. Once you begin to roll your hips against him ever so slightly, pleasure bursts through your entire body. As your head falls back, his name rolls off your tongue in a strained whimper, rocking your body against his tongue, using him to get off.
You can feel yourself dripping onto his chin, becoming so wet and hot for him with every circle he does around your clit. You coat his skin in your arousal to make him your own, leaving remnants of the pleasure over his flesh to mark your territory. He doesn’t seem to mind, not from the groans he’s releasing, or the way his fingers tighten their grip to hold you in place. And when you feel his tongue dip to your entrance once again, you know he enjoys the way you taste as your juices coat his tongue.
“Don’t stop,” you cry out, fingers tugging the strands of his hair, grinding your center against his mouth. “D-don’t fucking stop. God, I’m so close.” The anticipation has you shaking and the adrenaline has you already nearing your peak, knowing the need wouldn’t allow you to last long once he was between your legs.
He heeds your warning, returning his tongue to your clit after getting another taste, drawing patterns against your flesh, making you whimper and cry out until you can hardly see straight. Your body doubles over the moment the first surge of pleasure consumes you. Thighs trembling against him, fingers clutching the strands of his hair, moans becoming lost in bliss, your hips slow their pace until you can hardly handle the warmth swelling inside of you. As the second wave erupts, you gain your strength as you gasp once again and push your dripping core against his tongue, allowing him to taste every single drop.
As if he knows exactly what to do, he licks from your entrance to your clit, swallowing every drop coating his tongue before repeating the motion. As the pleasure settles, you become sensitive upon feeling him lick you clean, but you don’t dare stop him, knowing you want his scent on you as well. Whether it’s noticeable to anyone more than human, you don’t really care, because it’s noticeable to you.
“That’s it,” you whisper, eyes fluttering while slowly rocking yourself against his tongue, “keep going. Please.” He obliges with a groan against your skin, sending warmth flooding your body all over again and you know you’re ready to keep marking him now.
When you raise yourself from him, his mouth glistens with your juices and you can’t pull your eyes away from the beautiful sight. Instantly your mouth lowers to his when you ease back down to straddle him, licking his flesh clean of your arousal just as he did. Once satisfied he is marked, your lips press to his in a desperate kiss, feeling his body grind against yours from below and you realize he has had no release of his own.
You push yourself off of him with hands against his chest, grinding your folds against him to feel his stiffness between your thighs. Still dripping, you coat his flesh with your juices left from coming as you roll against his cock. He glides back and forth over your slit, feeling him twitch beneath you while hearing his desperate groans.
“C’mon, baby,” he exhales, “why don’t you sink down on my cock? Don’t you need to, uh, mark me there, too?” He still thinks it’s a game, and you can’t blame him, but you continue pushing your hips back and forth over his length.
“I am marking you,” you whimper, nails digging into his chest. “I have to be thorough so everyone will know you’re mine. I have to be precise so no one will try to touch you.”
“Fuck,” he hisses, hips bucking beneath you, “all I want is for you to touch me. I-I don’t want anyone else. So, please God, just fuck me.”
A growl rumbles in your chest at his neediness, nearly getting off on the willingness alone and as if he’s said the magic words, you raise your body enough to grip his cock in your hand. A second later you line up the tip to your aching entrance, moments before you lower yourself as he fills you to the brim.
A groan erupts from his body as a gasp spills from your lips. You waste no time before beginning to ride him, rocking your hips against his body and getting lost in how amazing he feels inside of you. He tosses his head back, not withholding the noises of bliss and it only drives you to fuck him harder, faster, losing control of your voice and volume. His fingers press to your waist with a firm grip, guiding you faster so you fuck him wildly.
The warmth begins to swell between your thighs as you dip your hand lower, fingers pressing to your clit to offer one final release to come as you mark him. Your head falls back, eyes screwing shut, gaping, overwhelmed with bliss and the need to make him yours. His fingers dig into your skin, both of your sweaty bodies moving as one to reach your peaks, and it doesn’t take you long to find pure bliss in his cock filling you up.
Once again your body weakens and doubles over, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and, for the first time, take control. His hips pump wildly beneath you, slamming his cock into you from below as you cry out his name and tremble in his grasp. The pleasure consumes and overwhelms you to the point of seeing stars, and he doesn’t slow his thrusts even as the high begins to settle.
You grip him tightly, nails creating marks against his shoulders as another way to leave the memory of you on him, whimpering and whining as he continues to thrust himself into your dripping, tightening walls. Your forehead presses to his, once again getting lost in how good he can make you feel, and allowing him to come closer to his end as he does so.
Yet, when he begins to release heavy breaths against your skin, you push yourself off of him as his hands fall from your body. Quickly, you slide off of him to take hold of his sopping wet cock, wrapping your fingers right around and beginning to pump as the muscles of his stomach clench and release, his hips buck, and his jaw slacks.  
It doesn’t take long before his spilling into your fingers, releasing with a deep, rugged groan while you feel his cock pulse beneath your grasp. Slowing your motions a bit, you draw out every last drop from his cock until he begins to hiss in over-stimulation. And without warning, you swipe the slit of his tip with your thumb before bringing it to your lips, flicking your tongue out to taste him before tending to the rest of your fingers he’s made a mess of.
His watches behind heavy lids as you clean your fingers, keeping eye contact the whole time to see his lips part as he releases heavy breaths. Without saying anything else, you bend forward, licking his stomach clean of his release that spilled past your fingers, making sure to clean him well before moving on.
“Damn, baby,” he exhales, “that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. You really are an animal.” He chuckles tiredly a second before you crawl up his body to press your lips to his. He groans against you one last time, hands rising to your hips to hold you against him.
“I told you I wanted to be thorough,” you reply before nuzzling into his neck.
“So…” he hesitates for a moment, “you’re not going to run out on me this time, are you?”
“No,” you say, followed by a sigh, “you’re mine.” The words sound so casual coming from your lips, causing him to mutter for a moment.
“So, we’re like… a couple?”
Then your eyes grow wide, the realization sinking in that you marked and claimed him without him understanding what it meant to you. Disgust floods every inch of you as you push yourself off of him and cower to the other side of the couch, leaving him gaping with his eyes growing wide.
“What? What did I say?” He sits up, tugging his underwear and jeans up enough to cover himself, but not bothering to button or zip. “We don’t need labels. I’m sorry. I just thought-”
“Oh my God.” The words nearly become caught in your throat. “I’m a terrible fucking person.” The guilt weighs down on you, smothering you, making you feel so, so small. How could you do that to him in a lust-filled haze when he doesn’t even know what you are?
“What?” He reaches for you, but you reject, folding your arms over your knees as they press to your chest. “Don’t say that? What do you mean?”
“I marked you, and I-” Gulping, you lose the will to speak, thinking of how you convinced him to agree to the marking while consumed with desire and you couldn’t hate yourself more in that moment.
“Yeah, baby, it’s okay.” He scoots closer to place a hand on your shoulder. “We were just role playing, right? What’s the big deal?”
With that, you turn your head, allowing him to see your eyes glistening while your bottom lip trembles. With a wrinkled brow and face twisting to disgust as the weight of your mistake presses against your chest, you can’t speak, wishing you could explain to him why it is a big deal to you.
“It’s not a game,” you finally whisper, ears flattening once again and you wonder if he notices. “This is who I am.”
“I… don’t understand.” He tilts his head, causing you to turn away from him.
“I am not role playing,” you muttered, nearly beneath your breath but you can’t find the strength to get the words out. “My ears are real. My tail is real. This is who I am.”
You can feel the weight of his gaze as he does nothing but stare at you. Maybe in shock. Or maybe he thinks you’re crazy. And maybe you are crazy for getting mixed up with a human who you’ve grown too attached to to ignore and need in your life more than either of you realize.
“I… um… okay. Whew.” He exhales heavily. Turning in time, you notice him rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, eyes fallen to his lap. “Are you just messing with me? Because if you are-”
You call his name before suddenly reaching to grip his hand, pulling his fingers to your ear to feel how very attached they are to your head. You nearly wince as his eyes grow wide. Once your hand lowers, he keeps his fingers in the same position, brushing over the soft fur of your ears and then back down to your head.
“Holy shit…” is all he can muster, and it makes your heart sink in your chest. “You’re not fucking kidding.”
You nibble on your bottom lip, not knowing what to say and being too scared to look at him. He remains quiet as well, but he keeps his hand where it is, switching between both of your ears to feel every inch of them in fascination. And the motion makes you whimper, almost happily because his touch feels so comforting in the moment.
“So your tail?” he suddenly asks, earning your gaze focusing on him, but you can only nod. “It’s real, too?” You nod again, seconds before he’s reaching out to run his fingers along the fur and you’re whimpering once again.
“D-Don’t,” you mutter, watching him retract his hand.
“What did I do?” Blinking, he gulps once again.
“Don’t… don’t pet me like that because it makes me want to cuddle you. To nuzzle up beneath you and keep you warm all night while you sleep.” Upon speaking the words, your heart sinks even lower as your stomach churns. Assuming you have ruined what you had with him would be an understatement, wondering how he would ever want to be with a creature like you when he is the most remarkable human being you’ve ever met.
“Would that be a bad thing?”
And if he couldn’t surprise you more, he reaches out to stroke your tail again, earning another whimper from your chest and you can’t help the grin that grows on your lips.
“You… want to cuddle with me?” At the sight of a shy grin forming on his face, you can’t ignore the way your heart beats twice as fast for him.
He nods while reaching for you, pulling you against his chest as he strokes your head. “I do. We can cuddle and,” he pauses for a moment, then chuckles to himself, “you can answer the hundred and one questions I’m thinking right now. If that’s okay.”
Giggling, you nod against his chest, understanding he still might be in shock from the news. Maybe that’s why he’s taking it so well, but you don’t mind when he’s offering the thing you want most.
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megalony · 21 hours
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I Need To Help You- Part 2
This is a follow up to my Eddie Diaz imagine, thank you all for the amazing feedback on the first part. I hope you will all like this one.
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Part 1
Eddie Diaz Masterlist
Summary: (Y/n) hasn't been feeling well lately, and when she gets worse while Eddie is at work, Chris has to call him to come home and help.
Enjoy.
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"How far along were you, roughly?"
Leaning forward, (Y/n) crumpled her chest over until it was almost touching her thighs with her arms bound around her middle and her forehead tipped down on her knees. A groan tumbled past her lips and she rode out the tremors that started to rise back through her system again.
Why was nobody listening to her? Why was everyone presuming she was lying to them? Could nobody see this from her point of view? This was the third person to come into their room and start asking the same questions they had answered the first time around when they got here.
"I don't know! Why aren't you l-listening to me?" Uncurling one hand from her stomach, (Y/n) reached behind her and clamped her hand down around Eddie's wrist when he held onto her shoulder. He sat down just behind her on the bed and leaned forward to kiss the back of her neck.
"Do you think we would of had no antenatal care if we knew she was pregnant? Or that we'd have a home birth with no midwife and no fucking help? Until she gave birth we didn't know she was pregnant."
They would have gone to antenatal check ups and had scans and gotten themselves prepared for this if they knew. They wouldn't leave everything until the day (Y/n) gave birth and hope for the best. This wasn't their idea of a joke and it was far from a practical situation.
"W-where is she?" (Y/n) lifted her head up just enough to do a sweep around the room. She felt like she had blacked out when they brought her through the emergency room and into this room. She hadn't realised Hen had left the room until a few minutes later when she suddenly didn't hear her baby's cries anymore. And that had been near enough half an hour ago since they arrived and their daughter still wasn't back yet.
Hen had rode in the back of the ambulance with (Y/n) and Eddie while Chimney drove the ambulance. Bobby had taken the truck back to the station with Buck and Chris who were heading back to Eddie's house now so Buck could watch Chris until tomorrow. And Bobby had done a quick hand over with the B shift and was now on his way here to check how they were all getting on.
"She's gone to get weighed and checked over, then we'll bring her back to you. Your exam looked fine, nothing retained and the bleeding stopped before you arrived which is good. I'm going to give you some pain relief and a few things to level out your system and combat the shock."
"I wanna go home."
(Y/n) couldn't help the whine that burned at the back of her throat and she turned her head to the side to bury her face in Eddie's neck. Her arm looped around the back of his neck and she pushed herself into his chest until he practically pulled her into his lap.
(Y/n) didn't want to stay here. She had been checked out and their daughter was being looked after. But now she wanted to go home. (Y/n) wanted to get some morphine and go home and curl up with Eddie, Chris and their sudden, new addition.
"We can't go home yet-"
"Eddie, please, please." Tears continued to burn down her face as she clutched at Eddie tighter as if gripping onto him for dear life would make him change his mind.
"No, mi amor you've just had a baby, we're staying here. You're gonna be fine, I'm not leaving you here alone." He smoothed his hand up and down her arm, gently swaying them from side to side. He couldn't take her home no matter how desperately he wanted to, but Eddie wasn't going to run off and leave (Y/n) here on her own. He was staying with her until he could take her and their baby back home safe and sound.
"We would like to keep you in overnight for observation and to make sure baby can take her first feed properly, you both need a bit of TLC."
(Y/n) didn't answer. She knew she wasn't being asked, she was being told and she could understand keeping the baby here for a while. She had been a surprise, there could be any number of complications wrong with her and she needed to be watched so they could ensure she would be okay to go home. But (Y/n) didn't want to stay.
"I'll go fetch a nurse to give you the shots and set you up with some fluids." The doctor smiled at them weakly before she turned and headed out the room, leaving the door open when she passed someone outside.
"How are we doing?" Bobby rapped his knuckles on the door and poked his head round, grinning softly when Eddie waved him inside.
He was family, with Eddie's family being back in Texas and his relationship with his own dad being strained, Bobby was almost a surrogate father to him and most of the team. He didn't have to stand and lurk in doorways waiting for permission to come in. Bobby walked over and sat down in the chair on the right side of the bed. And he leaned across to rest his hand comfortingly on (Y/n)'s knee.
"I feel sick." (Y/n) grumbled quietly as she shifted around on the bed. She crossed her legs beneath her and slumped her back up against Eddie's chest, smiling weakly when Eddie's arms curled around her waist. He rubbed his hands soothingly over her aching stomach and pressed his lips to the top of her head with a small smile.
"I can imagine… right, now I've brought some of the paperwork with me to finish up while I stay with you and make sure you're both alright." Bobby didn't want to bombard either of them if they were in too much shock to think and go over things right now. But he suspected that they would want something to take their minds off of things and it would keep them all occupied.
Bobby knew (Y/n) didn't do well in hospitals. He had restrained (Y/n) with Eddie on more than one occasion when she tried to discharge herself from the hospital even though she had been in bad condition. And either way right now, Bobby wasn't going anywhere so he could fill some other forms in if they weren't up to it yet.
He was staying until (Y/n) was checked onto a ward and the baby was given the all clear. Then he would have to make a few calls and sort some cover shifts since Eddie would now be going on leave.
Eddie nodded and ran a hand over his jaw and chin before he went back to keeping his arms tight around (Y/n), holding her into his chest. He began swaying them from left to right as he watched Bobby.
Bobby rummaged around in his pocket for a pen and set all the papers he brought with him down on the little pull across table. He could fill out the incident report on his own when he was back at the station, but he needed to write a few things down now and get ready for Eddie's time off.
There was protocols to follow whenever a family member was taken to hospital or treated out on a call, and (Y/n) was family. And they had to write up what happened on their calls to prove they gave the right treatment, just in case anyone tried to sue.
"You didn't know you were pregnant, right? I just need to be sure."
"No… I thought I was having a prolapse." (Y/n) huffed and glanced down at her hands as she spoke. But keeping her eyes open felt too hard and she was too exhausted to be embarrassed.
She let her eyes close and snuggled down against Eddie's chest, clinging to his arms that were wrapped around her chest and waist. She needed whatever comfort she could get right now and her body was still shaking and spasming in his arms.
She didn't suspect she might be even one month pregnant. She had been waiting just over a month or so for her latest period to happen but she was usually random and late so it wasn't a big deal. Clearly, what she thought was a short period had been spotting during the pregnancy. (Y/n) would have told Eddie if she suspected anything. They had talked, briefly, about starting a family and if she thought that was happening she would have told him.
When the pains got worse (Y/n) thought she was having a prolapse or having some kind of blockage or a hernia. A baby didn't cross her mind at all.
"Okay," Bobby's voice was soft and he briefly gave (Y/n)'s knee a squeeze while he jotted a few more notes down.
This was mainly to cover themselves and so he could get Eddie some emergency annual leave approved. They were supposed to give four weeks notice for any leave they wanted but Eddie couldn't have done that in this situation and he undoubtedly needed time to be home with his family right now.
(Y/n) reached down to grab Eddie's hand and started to mess around with his fingers. She swirled the wedding ring around a few times and traved the pad of her finger up and down his hand with a feather-like touch.
"I don't think the Chief will have a problem with you're early leave. I've approved you for two weeks, if you need any more than that just let me know. I'll pinch someone from another station to cover your shifts."
Bobby hastily wrote a little paragraph, trying to keep his hand steady as possible. It didn't have to be long-winded, his incident report would be long enough and contain all the details. But he needed a brief summary and once Eddie signed off on it, he would be on annual leave as of now.
"I'm sure Maddie will help you get your maternity leave from work, but if you need me to do anything in that regard, I'd be happy to."
A quiet groan left (Y/n)'s lips as she pushed further back into Eddie, feeling tears tracing down the bridge of her nose at the thought of work.
She was supposed to be on shift at dispatch in the morning. She hadn't even told Maddie what had happened or had chance to get hold of Sue and explain that she wouldn't be on shift for the next few months. How was she going to explain this?
'Sorry I can't come into work, I've had a baby?'
No one was going to believe her. They would think she was crazy or had tried to hide the pregnancy. Maddie wasn't going to believe this and (Y/n) had a feeling Buck would have rung her by now anyway to give the gossip and explain what their little sister had gone and done.
"They'll fire me." She mewled, letting the tears splash down her face as she smothered her face into Eddie's arm and curled her knees up to her aching stomach that was on fire.
"No they won't, mi amor."
"How could I not h-have known?"
Tears continued to stream down (Y/n)'s face and the trembling in her system got worse. Eddie pulled his lower lip between his teeth as his cheek brushed against the top of her head. He held her tighter, trying his best to comfort her as he hushed her quietly.
"It happens, baby. Sue will understand, I'll talk to her, don't worry." Eddie had always gotten along with Sue down at dispatch and he knew she was the understanding type.
She would immediately understand because she knew (Y/n) and had seen her every week when she was at work. She had clearly seen that (Y/n) didn't look pregnant and that she hadn't told anyone or acted like she was and she would see that this wasn't some great scheme. Sue would understand their predicament and approve (Y/n)'s leave and try to help where she could.
Bobby put his paperwork away before he reached out and rubbed (Y/n)'s arm affectionately.
"I'll speak to Sue in the morning, I can get the doctor to fax her a report from tonight and your medical history. That will show you haven't received any antenatal care and Sue will need to approve you for maternity leave, it won't be an issue."
(Y/n) managed to open her eyes that were still watering when she looked across at Bobby. He would do that for them? He would speak to the doctor and Sue and try to sort this so they didn't have to worry? Affection flooded her eyes and she tried to smile his way, despite how her head was fogging over and she just knew once she was given that morphine, she would be out like a light.
She only wished they could have done this pregnancy ordeal in the usual fashion.
Things would have been so much easier if they'd of only known about the baby beforehand. Why did (Y/n)'s body have to be different and conceal this little fact- this little life- from her like a surprise present she wasn't supposed to know about?
Why couldn't she have known before now? Eight months of nothing and then all of a sudden, she was landed with a baby in her arms.
***
"Okay?" Eddie's lips attached to the side of (Y/n)'s head and his hands found her arms, giving a gentle squeeze as he walked up behind her. His chest merged against her back and he smiled softly against her skin when she let herself lean back into him.
"It feels like a dream." Her head tilted back on his shoulder but her eyes wouldn't drift away from the newborn in her arms.
It was too strange to be real.
They were about to walk into their home with a baby. (Y/n) still couldn't believe this weight in her arms was her own little girl; her own version of her and Eddie. This was their baby that they were bringing home.
She wasn't going to be back at work for a few months now. She was going to be home looking after Chris and Bella. No more sleep-filled nights. No more time to themselves when Chris was at school and they were off work. Everything was going to be revolving around the kids now, they were going to be looking after a newborn, not just a nine year old.
A worried smile pulled at her lips when Eddie wormed his arms around her, keeping one arm glued to her waist while the other hand carefully rested over Bella who was snuggled into (Y/n)'s arms.
The further they walked up the path, the more trepidation (Y/n) could feel swirling in her stomach, taking over her body. Were they ready for this? What if (Y/n) couldn't do this? What if she wasn't going to be a good mother to a newborn? Chris was different, she had been in his life since he was almost five years old and for the last four years she had taken on the role as his mum.
She had looked after Chris since he was little more than a toddler. She'd never been around when he was born or had much experience with looking after newborns.
This was all foreign territory to her.
"Eddie, we don't have anything ready for her-"
"I'll sort it, I promise, mi amor. Let's just get inside first." He knew (Y/n) had been through enough, he didn't want her to stand around and panic any longer. He would sort everything, Bobby had already given him two weeks off and Buck had today off. Buck would be more than happy to stay with (Y/n) and Chris so Eddie could head out and get everything they would need for Bella.
She stepped back into Eddie, eyes wide when the front door opened before she could even ask Eddie for his key.
Chris was stood on the other side of the door, a bright smile on his face, so wide that he could barely keep his eyes open. And before he uttered one word, Chris pushed forward and barracaded his arms around (Y/n)'s waist with his face meshed into her stomach just beneath her arms. His hands scrunched up in Eddie's waist and he giggled before he tilted his head back and carefully peeked at the bundle in her arms.
He had briefly seen Bella yesterday, but not for long.
After the whole debacle, Chris barely slept, he and Buck had spent most of the night watching movies in the lounge, both too hyped to go to sleep. Then Buck had taken Chris down to see (Y/n) and his new little sister before they both came back home for the rest of the day. Chris hadn't slept much last night either, too excited that his parents and new sibling would be coming back home in the morning. And Chris had been telling everyone he could that his mum had had a surprise baby, and now, finally, they were all going to be back home.
"You're home!"
"We are, now can you let us in?" Eddie quipped back with a smirk plastered across his face and he reached out to ruffle Chris's wild curls that clearly hadn't seen a brush this morning.
Chris whined quietly but he obliged and shuffled back, still keeping his arms about both parents so it looked like he was dragging them in the house.
"There you are, how are you feeling?"
A smile fluttered over (Y/n)'s lips when her brother came into her sights. He reeled an arm around her waist, pulling her out of Eddie's embrace and into his own. Careful not to nudge or squish the newborn in her arms. He grinned down at Bella, brushing his thumb across her cheek. She had been awake and wriggling around yesterday when Buck held her for the first time and he was so proud, just like he was when Jee had been born.
"Rough," (Y/n) mumbled back, but her smile was enough to tell her brother she wasn't upset or distraught. She was coping as well as she could be right now.
She leaned around Buck when a movement caught her eye and her lips quirked up when she noticed her sister hurrying out the kitchen towards them. (Y/n) hadn't talked to Maddie yet, but she knew Buck had told her what had happened. No one had spoken to their parents yet though, (Y/n) wasn't ready to brave that phone call just yet.
"Hi!" Maddie reached out and wrapped (Y/n) up in a tender hug, keeping an air of space between them to be careful of the newborn who was just beginning to stir.
"Now do you believe me?"
"No, no I don't think so." A bright grin spread across Maddie's face and she cooed down at the little girl before stretching her arms down, silently begging for a cuddle of her first niece. "I still can't get over this."
She had seen her sister no more than five days ago and Maddie didn't have the slightest inkling that she had been pregnant. (Y/n) didn't look, feel or act as if she might have been close to giving birth and Maddie couldn't imagine the trauma this had created. Being in so much pain and not understanding why. Giving birth on her own with her son frightened in the next room and her family on their way to help her.
It was a relief to everyone that (Y/n) and the baby were both okay, so many things could have gone wrong that night.
"We have a surprise." Chris grinned up at Eddie and wrapped his arms around his dad's waist before he looked over at Buck. "Can we show them now?" He had waited all morning for them to come home and now they were here, Chris didn't want to wait any longer to show them what the three of them had been up to all day yesterday.
"Go ahead."
Chris grabbed (Y/n)'s hand and started tugging until she relented and slowly followed him down the hall. She felt Eddie's hands on her waist and his lips against the back of her head as they headed down the hall, being dragged along by Chris. Buck was close behind with Maddie beside him and Bella asleep in her arms.
"What are you doing?" Eddie mumbled softly when he noticed Chris aim for the study rather than his or even their bedroom.
Chris began laughing, swaying his and (Y/n)'s entwined hands back and forth while he slowly opened the door to the study and dragged them inside. A loud 'surprise' flew past his lips and he stood, practically vibrating like a rocket about to launch in the middle of the room.
(Y/n) couldn't breathe. All the air disappeared from her lungs and her free hand moved to grab Eddie's wrist, but she could feel him right behind her. His chest tensed and pushed out into her back and his fingers dug into her hips when he looked around the room.
How had they done this in the space of one day?
"You- Jesus, Buck." His words were affectionate, coming out in a breathless huff as he looked over his shoulder. Eyes wide, jaw dropped, shoulders sagging down.
"Now we couldn't get everything sorted, and we weren't sure what colour scheme you'd want, but Chris picked out the stickers and we thought it was better than messing about re-painting the walls." Buck clapped a hand down on Eddie's shoulder while he looked around the room, shoulders tense and chest tight with apprehension.
He didn't want them to feel like he and Maddie had tried to take over, but they wanted to do something to help.
They knew Eddie and (Y/n) would be struggling now they were home. They would have to sort this room into a nursery, buy everything they needed for Bella. Nappies, bottles, clothes, pram, all of that for a start without thinking of the cot or the wipes and accessories and all the necessities they would need. It was a lot.
It was something they should have had the last eight months to sort out slowly, over time. But with how sudden Bella made her arrival, Buck and Maddie thought they should at least lend a hand.
The study was a pale cream, a dusty vanilla shade that actually looked quite nice once the room was cleared out. There had only been a desk and chair, a computer and a few shelves and ornaments on units.
Now though, the room was reinvented.
(Y/n) bit her lip as she looked around, doing slow circles from left to right, taking in the expanse of the room.
Large Winnie The Pooh wall stickers were dotted around the room, various pictures of Winnie with a red balloon, Tigger, Piglet and Eeyore all dancing around the walls. There was a cot on the right side of the room, the old chest of drawers that used to be unused beneath the window was now opposite the cot. And stacks of clothes ranging from mini socks, pull ups, onesies, mittens, bibs and dresses were all neatly stacked and lined up in front of the cot.
Maddie didn't want to put any of the clothes away in case (Y/n) didn't want them all. She thought it would be best to let her sister go through everything and decide what she wanted and what she didn't like.
The nicnacs had been rearranged, most of them taken out of the room. There were teddies in the cot and a few on the shelves. (Y/n) recognised the selection of teddies from her and Eddie's room, the teddies she and Buck had had since they were little which (Y/n) never brought herself to get rid of. And there were a few toys in the cot that she knew belonged to Chris, which he was graciously donating to his little sister.
"Is this okay? Did we do good?" Buck began to run his hands up and down his thighs when neither Eddie nor (Y/n) said anything. They just looked around in wonder like they had walked into Narnia.
"Mum?" Chris continued to bounce up and down, pushing up on his toes and then sinking back down on his heels as he eagerly awaited a response.
He wasn't quite expecting his mum to deadlock her arms around him and drag him into her arms. Her face buried in his curls and he froze for a second when he realised she was crying. But when he felt her kiss his temple, repeating 'thank you, baby' into his hair, he began to giggle. And he was more than eager when she let him go and Eddie reeled him in for a cuddle.
"You- you didn't have to… thank you."
(Y/n) hated the way she trembled when she reached out and wrapped her arms around her big brother. She pulled Buck close and buried her face in his chest, feeling her tears soaking into his shirt, but he just held her tighter. He bound his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head, smiling broadly as if he had just heard news that he was being commemorated for something.
"Anything for you." He wanted to help. He wanted to make himself useful and do something nice for his sister. He didn't want her and Eddie to struggle or panic and anything he could do to make things easier for them, he would.
Easing Bella into her left arm, Maddie reached out and gave (Y/n)'s shoulder a light squeeze as she stepped close to her two siblings.
"It's mostly Jee's old stuff, if you don't mind second-hand? And everyone at the station had a few baby clothes they were more than happy to give. They said call it belated baby shower gifts."
Maddie had agreed immediately when Buck called and asked if she would help him and Chris sort out a nursery for their sister. She had kept Jee's cot and some of her baby clothes and a few toys and dummies and little nicnacs that had all been boxed up. She didn't find it likely that she and Chimney would be having another baby, at least not anytime soon. So she was more than happy to hand most of the stuff over to her little sister to help them out.
And Hen and Karen had a lot of things they had given to Buck since they fostered all different aged kids and had clothes piled up for emergency placements.
"Thank you, this really means a lot." Eddie kept his right arm looped around Chris's shoulders while he reached over and pulled Buck into a hug.
They had saved him and (Y/n) a lot of panicking and rushing about, it was a hefty weight off of their shoulders. Barely two days old and already their little girl was spoiled.
***
Eddie leaned his head around the living room door and took a peek inside. He rose a brow and slowly padded across towards the sofa, taking in the sight of his family. Maddie was curled up on the armchair with Jee perched on her lap, both of them relaxed and looking like they were about to fall asleep.
Chimney was on the other armchair, playing another game of cards with Buck even though Chris had long since given up playing against them and toddled off to his room.
When his eyes landed on his wife, Eddie's smile softened and his arms folded over his chest. (Y/n) was laid on the sofa next to Buck, her legs over his lap, Bella snuggled down on her chest and a blanket over the pair of them. Both girls were fast asleep.
"Comfy?" Eddie murmured, looking across at Buck who was slouched down on the sofa, keeping his cards close to his chest since he kept demanding Chimney was cheating.
"Yep."
Eddie nodded while he crouched down beside the sofa and looked down at Bella. She was probably due another feed now and he would rather do that than wake (Y/n).
He muttered a soft "Come here baby," and eased Bella into his arms as carefully as he could, trying not to wake (Y/n) rather than the newborn. His lips attached to the top of her head and he gently started to sway from one side to the next. He knew he would have to wake (Y/n) soon when the food arrived, but he wanted to let her sleep a bit longer.
Chimney had finished work, picked up Jee and come straight down to see them all and they all decided to have a family night and eat tea together.
When he heard Chris's bedroom door swing open, Eddie turned and moved towards the hall. His brows furrowed and his lips stayed meshed against his daughter's temple, keeping her bundled up against his chest as he looked over at his son.
"Dad!"
"What's up bud?"
"Nan and pops don't believe me! Tell them about Bella!"
A quiet groan rumbled past Eddie's lips and he tilted his head back, mentally cursing Chris for ringing them already. He knew Chris wouldn't be able to refrain from telling everyone, but Eddie had hoped he wouldn't call his parents just yet.
He had been so focused on trying to get (Y/n) and Bella home and sorting the house that he hadn't called his parents yet. There had been far too much going on and all the team and family popping by. They hadn't even been home a full day yet, Eddie wanted today to be home and try to get settled. He had planned to call his parents first thing in the morning and tell them the surprise news because he knew they would be on a plane down here the moment they knew.
Jugging Bella into the crook of his left arm, Eddie reached out and took the phone from Chris, muttering a soft "Go supervise uncle Buck." and watched as Chris happily hurried off.
He had called his grandparents in his room because he knew Eddie would tell him not to, but he wanted them to know. He wanted to be the one to explain that (Y/n) had had a baby and Chris now had a little sister. He wanted to tell them because Chris knew they would come down and visit for sure now.
"Eddie, sweetheart." His mum smiled so brightly it caused Eddie to smile in response.
He held the phone up to his face and slowly headed into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on.
"Hi ma, you both okay?" He could scarcely see his dad in the corner of the camera, trying his best to lean in and look at his son.
"What's Chris going on about? Is (Y/n) pregnant? Are you going to have a baby?" The anticipation in his mum's voice made Eddie's heart soften and explode at the same time.
He could see the hope swelling up in her eyes and her red lips were curved into such a wide grin that made Eddie feel bad. He wished they had known about Bella beforehand. He wished he could be giving his mum the news in the proper way, telling her and sending her a scan picture and having time to get things ready. His parents weren't going to take this news lightly, the shock would settle in quick, he knew it.
His mum had gathered from Chris that (Y/n) had to be pregnant, but Chris kept rushing through his words because he was so happy. And when he said (Y/n) had had a baby, they thought he was getting mixed up with his words. They had talked to (Y/n) and Eddie only two weeks ago, and they said nothing about being pregnant.
"How far along is she? Chris kept saying you've got a baby girl, he was getting confused, bless him."
"Uh, no papi… um, (Y/n) wasn't well Friday night," He tilted his head back and tried to gather some unknown strength from somewhere. He couldn't help but wince when he looked back down at his parents. "She went into labour and had a baby Friday night."
"I- I'm sorry?"
"Edmundo, why didn't you tell us?"
"I didn't know! The doctor called it a cryptic pregnancy, we had no idea she was pregnant. We just got home today, I uh, I guess Chris was too excited to wait to tell you."
He had never seen his mother's jaw hang so loose before. Her wide brown eyes were watering up and she smothered her open mouth with her palm while she leaned to the side into her husband. Whereas his dad was sat with furrowed brows and a curled upper lip. He removed his glasses and ran a hand across his face, trying to process what he was being told.
"Is she okay? Is the baby okay?" A flurry of other words fell past his mother's lips but Eddie couldn't work them all out.
To stop her from rambling on, Eddie slowly tilted the phone down, panning the screen along his plain black shirt before the camera finally settled on the bundle in his arms. Bella was curled up in his arm, both her hands hidden in mittens, arms curled to her chest and her knees pulled up near her tummy. Her eyes were scrunched closed and her button nose was twitched up while her cheek nuzzled into Eddie's shirt.
"Meet Isabella," Softness melted around the edges of his voice and he could hear his mother gasping and a quiet sound rumbled past his father's lips. His dad had never been so quiet and dumb-struck before.
He twisted to lean his hips back against the counter and crossed one leg over the other while he pulled Bella up a bit higher so she was cuddled against his upper chest. Allowing Eddie to see his parents on screen again but also keep Bella within their sights so they could fawn over their granddaughter.
"Chris wasn't joking," This was the first time in a long while that Eddie had seen his father tear up.
"They're both doing great, considering the shock. The doctor said she's perfectly healthy and (Y/n)'s doing great."
"Can- can we come down, visit you all?" There was something hidden in his mother's voice, as if she thought Eddie would tell her no.
His parents hadn't been over to LA since Eddie first moved here. He, Chris and (Y/n) had always made trips down to Texas to see them because it was convenient and easier for them all. But now, with a newborn and a lot of stuff to sort out, his parents coming here was going to be their easiest option.
"We'd love that."
Eddie propped the phone up against the coffee cannister and began prepping a bottle single-handed while Bella stayed in his left arm. He chimed in whenever his parents asked him a question and he smiled brightly when he could hear his mum cooing and trying to get a better look at the newborn. And he could already hear his dad getting his own phone out, saying how he was going to call the girls (Eddie's sisters) and tell them each the good news.
That meant Eddie would be swamped with phone calls tonight from all three of them and no doubt his sisters would be face-timing them. He knew what they were like. They had been round every day to see Chris when he had been born. They would likely send presents down here to LA if they couldn't make a trip to visit them.
When the bottle was made, Eddie tucked it under his arm and grabbed the phone, making his way back into the living room where everyone was crowded together.
"Ma and papi are on the phone, wanna say hi?" He tilted the phone down towards (Y/n) when he stood beside the sofa, noticing that she was still curled up but she was awake now. Presumably she woke up not long after he removed Bella from her arms.
His brows furrowed and his head tilted to one side when he realised (Y/n) was biting her lower lip and he could see tears hiding in her eyes. The way her nose crinkled and how she was pressing her lips together showed she looked like she wanted to cry and that made nerves spark through Eddie's chest.
But (Y/n) took the phone from him and tried to plaster a small yet somewhat exhausted smile on her face. She had always gotten along with Eddie's parents, even if his relationship with them had been strained. They felt more like parents to (Y/n) than her own parents were.
He watched (Y/n) sit up a bit straighter and Chris leaned into her side, wedged between her and Buck.
Eddie slowly moved to sit down on the floor in front of (Y/n) and leaned his back up against the sofa. He pressed the bottle to Bella's lips and started to feed her while his eyes swept around the room.
Everyone looked a little on edge now and it made his heartbeat pick up. His eyes finally settled on Maddie and he rose a brow.
"What's up?"
"I… I told mum and dad the good news."
"…Okay?"
Had they had a bad reaction? Eddie knew the Buckleys well enough to know they weren't supportive at the best of times. He had a feeling that they wouldn't be so happy or endearing about this. Part of him was sure that they wouldn't be as interested because it was (Y/n) who'd had a baby and not Maddie. They had been happy and involved when Maddie had Jee.
Maddie pursed her lips and held her daughter tighter, looking across at her little brother who had his arms crossed over his chest and a grumpy look on his face that he was trying and failing to hide.
She finally sighed and leaned forward, feeling guilty as ever for telling their parents, but (Y/n) asked her to. (Y/n) knew she needed to tell them now rather than letting any more time pass by, but she didn't have the nerve to start up that conversation. And neither did Buck. They all knew their parents were more understanding and easy going when it was Maddie they were talking to.
So she had done as she was asked and tried to calmly explain to their parents that (Y/n) had given birth despite not knowing she was pregnant.
"They're coming down for a visit."
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some-little-infamy · 2 days
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You Are the Difference
(Read on AO3) (Written for @911actions, prompted by @daughterofscotland : What if Buck is Tommy's first serious boyfriend?)
Buck isn’t ashamed of being bisexual. He’s not. But not being ashamed and being 100% comfortable in public are two entirely different things. He’s seen the way people look at them when he’s out with Tommy. It isn’t everyone, it isn’t even every time they go out, but it does happen. It happens enough that Buck finds himself glancing around when he’s on a date with Tommy, clocking every person around them who shows any signs of being a potential problem.
Buck’s explained that he isn’t embarrassed, that he just feels better being aware, and Tommy’s accepted that much. It doesn’t stop Buck from holding his hand while they walk down the street, or giving him a quick kiss before they leave the restaurant, or leaning into the arm Tommy has wrapped around his waist while they wait in line for popcorn at the movies.
Tommy watches him do it, but he’s stopped commenting on it the way he used to. Instead of trying to reassure Buck he simply allows Buck to go through the motions that make him feel a little more comfortable. Tommy doesn’t seem to mind… but it’s something Buck overthinks every time he does it, especially after watching the way Tommy doesn’t seem to notice or react to any of it. Tommy only seems to notice Buck noticing.
“Does it get easier?” Buck asks one day, after clocking a serious side-eye from a woman in line behind them at the coffee shop. There’s so much happening around them, music being piped in through speakers, orders being called, the hiss of the espresso machine’s steamer, the chatter of other customers… but Buck can’t help but focus on the one thing he wishes he wouldn’t.
“Does what get easier?” Tommy asks, taking a sip of his latte. They’re sitting down at a table in the corner, and Buck glances past Tommy to the bustling cafe behind him. He debates not bringing it up at all, changing the subject to something else before he’s stuck admitting to more things that are probably just piling up until Tommy decides he’s had enough of Buck.
Still, Buck’s tried to be nothing but honest in this relationship, and it’s working out so far. Why stop now?
“Putting up with people being awful just because you exist,” Buck clarifies. “I mean, you’ve been doing this a lot longer than I have. How long did it take you to get used to it?”
Tommy considers the question for longer than Buck anticipates, to the point that Buck almost does change the subject.
“I don’t know,” Tommy says finally.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Buck asks, brows furrowed.
“I mean,” Tommy starts, hesitating before pushing forward. “I don’t know. I haven’t really dated before. Not seriously, at least.” The admission comes slowly, like Tommy’s debating taking the words back even as he says them. He doesn’t, though, and in the face of Buck’s surprised silence Tommy continues. “I usually just go out to bars before a hookup. Maybe a coffee date or two. But I haven’t been with anyone I liked enough to see more than a few times.” Tommy flushes slightly, looking back up into Buck’s eyes when he adds, “Before you, obviously.”
The silence that falls between them has a weight to it now. This shared first is so big that Buck’s afraid he might actually shed a tear over the wave of feelings he experiences at the realization, blindsided by a truth he never would’ve guessed on his own.
Buck doesn’t know what to say. He’s stunned, unable to fully process everything that Tommy just told him. All this time, Buck’s assumed that Tommy was so much more experienced at all of this… this dating other guys stuff. Of course Tommy would have years to practice being cool and collected in the public eye, because why wouldn’t he? Tommy is… well, amazing. He’s hot, and kind, and funny, and the idea that he’s been single for the entirety of the time he’s been out just feels… wrong.
“I’m your first boyfriend?” Buck asks incredulously. His eyes are wide, unable to hide a single ounce of his surprise.
“Yeah,” Tommy confirms. “Is that a problem?”
Tommy’s tone isn’t accusing or even challenging… there’s a vulnerability there, and just the slightest hint of worry. Buck could laugh - if it didn’t feel so wildly appropriate for the moment they’re having - over the idea that Tommy thinks there’s a universe in which Buck would be scared off by something like that.
“No, no, uh, of course not,” Buck reassures him. “It’s just… I mean, you’re so many firsts for me, and I just figured…” Buck trails off with a soft, fond smile crossing his features. “I never thought I’d get to be a first for you, too.” Buck shifts in his seat, his coffee forgotten in front of him. “How has this never come up before now?” It’s been weeks now. Months. Months of Buck thinking that this is just the life Tommy’s used to living, and that he’s the only one feeling out of his element here.
“You never asked,” Tommy says simply.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly keen to go into all of, uh, this comparing myself to your exes,” Buck admits. “It felt safer not to ask.”
“Evan,” Tommy says, his tone so caring, so soft, that Buck nearly melts back into his seat from where he’d been growing more tense and alert with every word, quick to try and hop on the defensive.
“Sorry,” Buck’s quick to apologize.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Tommy says. “But you should know that I’m not comparing you to anyone. Who you are, what we have? It’s… special. It’s different from anything I’ve had before.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Buck agrees, smiling easier now. “I guess I just assumed I was just another boyfriend for you.”
“You’re not ‘just another’ anything, Evan. You’re important to me. Our relationship is important to me. I hope you know that.”
Lately Buck’s been worried whether he’s moving too fast or too slow, if he’s doing this dating thing all wrong in regards to Tommy. It turns out there is no ‘right’ way. There’s nothing Tommy’s used to that Buck might be messing up or not doing, nothing Tommy’s expecting.
Tommy chose Buck because, well, because he’s Buck, and that’s all he needs to be.
“So, you think I’m special?” Buck asks, a smirk slowly pulling up the corners of his lips.
“Oh my god,” Tommy says, a fond exasperation filling his tone. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?” “I hope not,” Buck says.
He hopes that there’s nothing but time for the two of them. Closing his eyes Buck imagines a future of other firsts - going on vacations together, moving in together, proposals and marriage and maybe even a kid or two. He imagines years, decades, a lifetime, with Tommy, and it feels good. It feels right.
“I plan to bring this up forever.”
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wasted (leehan x fem reader) pt 2
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paring: leehan x fem reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan word count: 8k summary: tumbling into bed with Leehan isn’t so uncomplicated when you’re forced to set parameters around your relationship. warnings: explicit sex scenes, oral (female receiving), more butt action but nothing crazy read the fic on AO3 should you please by clicking HERE.
“So. You and Leehan?” questions Jaehyun as you now find yourselves alone, walking back to campus with your borrowed textbook now in tow.
You shrug, feeling like there’s nothing to tell as you process the now mere second interaction with the aforementioned stranger. “It’s nothing. We just hooked up at a party once.”
When you went to that house party a few weeks ago with your roomate, looking for an excuse to get drunk, sex was not on your mind at all. Still, it happened, and it was satisfying, but you truthfully spared no additional thought to that night in the aftermath, outside of a few occasional ripples up your body anytime a particular flashback popped into your mind.
“Are you, like, into him?” asked Jaehyun, who you were sure was asking so that he could know if there was any expectation on your end for him to play matchmaker. Or, maybe he wanted to warn you first, tell you about all of the strange things Leehan does as a roommate that would make your skin crawl. Either way, you weren’t interested, not even sure how deep your attraction to Leehan went or even if you’d see him again before you could think about any further action.
“He’s a little strange,” you reply, “But I’m attracted to him.” Not to mention how good of a fuck he was, you think to yourself, withholding such candor from Jaehyun who you’re sure has heard enough.
“Well,” said Jaehyun, opening the door for you as you reached the building of your morning class, “If you want to see him again, me, him, and a couple of our neighbors are driving out to the countryside to see the lunar eclipse this weekend. It’s supposed to be super pretty out there. Plus, I know you wanted me to tell you if me and friends were ever going out, and well, this is about as exciting as it gets.”
You contemplate the invitation with earnest, thinking through your homework load and wondering whether or not you can afford a weekend spent off-campus. 
In your pursuit to try and make friends as you settled into this new campus community, you’ve been hopefully awaiting Jaehyun to inform you of any activities he and his friends were partaking in. 
Leehan’s presence wouldn’t necessarily be a bonus, but it also wouldn’t be a detractor either. Maybe Leehan takes the one in one-night stand seriously. Maybe, he won’t be interested in interacting with you at all.
Or maybe, you’d have the chance to get to know the person who thus far has brought an unprecedented amount of excitement to your life. 
“What time are you leaving?” you ask Jaehyun eagerly.
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You meet Jaehyun and his friends outside in the parking lot of their apartment complex on a breezy, Saturday morning. 
In the swarm of new people you meet, a mixture of Jaehyun’s neighbors and classmates, you don’t immediately see Leehan, and for a second, you wonder if maybe he decided not to come. 
It shouldn’t matter to you, really, and yet you can feel disappointment swelling hot inside you at the observation of his absence.
That is, until a few moments later, when he comes out from the front seat of a nearby parked car. Judging by the various bags he leaves on the dashboard, you can guess that he’s probably coming back from a store run.
He joins the eight or so of you huddled outside and says nothing to directly acknowledge you, although you suppose he shouldn’t have to. At this point, you’re still nothing more to each other than strangers who are perhaps – at least on your end – hoping to get to know each other a little better. 
You notice how handsome he looks as his long hair is tucked neatly behind his ears and the glasses you’ve seen him wear before are hung neatly into the collar of his white shirt. 
“Alright, so me and Leehan are driving,” says Jaehyun, standing in the middle of the circle you’ve all naturally formed. You watch him scrunch his eyebrows as he makes a quick count of how many of you are there.“There’s space for four in mine, and three in his. So we can just split up that way.”
Your first instinct is to ride with Jaehyun, the only person who you truly know and are comfortable with. But four of his friends are closer and quicker than you are, and not wanting to make an issue, you can only watch as they pile into his car before you can say or do anything.
“Well aren’t I just lucky?”
You turn around to face a smirking Leehan, whose deep and sultry voice was recognizable even before you saw him. You don’t know what to say so you just laugh, getting into his car and quickly moving past the fact that both his voice and closeness just now made your entire body buzz with excitment. 
Bad with names, you could barely recall any of the friends who Jaehyun introduced you to, but luckily the two people in the car with you and Leehan are those whose names you happened to remember. In the front seat with Leehan was Riwoo, whose calm voice and demeanor immediately gave you the impression of someone you’d get along well with, and in the back with you was Sungho, who you remembered because of his resonant laughter.
“So, Y/N,” says Leehan, only seconds after you’ve pulled out of the parking lot. “Tell us about yourself.”
You can’t tell by his tone whether he’s joking or being serious, nor can you catch his expression through the rearview mirror. So, you simply shrug. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re the new person here. We want to know everything you have to share,” he replies, and if it weren’t for the encouraging hums of agreement from Riwoo and Sungho, you’re sure you’d brush him off and say nothing at all.
‘Well, I’m a transfer student,” you explain, delving into the reasons behind your decision. It was mostly because you wanted a different experience, something intimate and small, unlike your previous school. “I used to go to a school in Tae-an.”
“Tae-an? You guys get a lot of fish down there, don’t you?” perks up an excited Leehan, and when you raise an eyebrow in confusion at the sudden switch in topic, Riwoo is quick to explain.
“Don’t mind him. He’s obsessed with fish. It’s half the reason why he wanted to come out to the countryside with us,” he says, and Sungho laughs along as if this is something they make fun of him for all the time. You notice how Leehan doesn’t seem to take this personal at all, in fact looking almost prideful at his friends’ observations of his interest. 
You decide that it’s something you like about him, how he has such a unique way of thinking and behaving and doesn’t seem to care when others point it out.
“Anways,” continues Riwoo. “How are you liking it here so far, Y/N?”
You take a second to consider the question. In the month or so since you’ve started class, spending this time today with Jaehyun and his friends is truly the most enmeshed you’ve felt on this new campus. 
“It’s nice. I’m grateful to Jaehyun for showing me around. The people I’ve met so far are really cool.”
“Are they?” quips Leehan, meeting your gaze in the rearview mirror. Everything about the way he looks at you is flirtatious and suggestive, even as you’re in a car with other people. “Well, consider yourself welcomed.”
You spend the rest of the car ride answering questions about yourself, most of which are directed by Leehan. And as hard as it is to read Leehan and his motivations behind such interest, it feels nice to be the subject of attention. To hear his breezy laugh when you say something sarcastic or watch his face scrunch in concentration as he listens to you tell a long story.
It’s about two hours into the drive that the four of you make a stop in the parking lot of a grocery store. Riwoo, Sungho, and Leehan use the time to get out and stretch their legs, while you go inside to buy snacks. 
When you return from inside the store, you’re surprised to see everyone but Leehan still outside of the car. Before you can ask what’s going on, Sungho opens his mouth in explanation. 
“So, apparently Leehan found a bungee jumping place on his phone nearby,” he informs you passively, “and says we’re taking a detour to go to it.”
The last words you were expecting to come out of Sungho’s mouth, you almost bust out laughing, but can tell by both Sungho and Riwoo’s matching expressions of non-plussed sincerity that these are the sort of hijinks Leehan gets up to all the time. 
So when the three of you pile into the car and Leehan excitedly exclaims, “Let’s go bungee jumping!” you can only sigh and lean your head against the window tiredly.
Just before you arrive at the bungee jumping facility, Riwoo and Sungho ask to get dropped off at a nearby restaurant, disinterested in being a voyeur to Leehan’s irregularity. Sharing the sentiment,  you’re just about to follow them out of the car when Leehan twists his body around to face you. “You’re doing it with me, right?”
All you can do is laugh, unable to take him or his spontaneous thrill-seeking serious.“You’re fucking crazy.”
“Said the detractors of every genius ever,” he retorts, smiling as he watches you react in disbelief to the pure sincerity behind his words. “C’mon,” he urges, laying a hand on your knee. “Don’t make me do this alone.”
The touch of Leehan’s fingers against your knee brings warmth even through the fabric of your leggings. You don’t understand how you got to the point where someone you barely know could convince you to do such an extreme activity like bungee jumping with them, and yet, you find yourself considering it as you melt under Leehan’s touch and curious personality. 
“I’ll go up with you, but that’s it,” you relent, fighting back a smirk as Leehan jumps up in his seat at that.
“Atta girl,” he replies, making your stomach swoop, and then you’re back in motion as he pulls the car out of the restaurant parking lot.
You arrive at the facility just a few moments later, finding it relatively empty and breezing through the process of signing waivers and other paperwork. That just leaves the two of you to walk side by side as you get on the elevator to the jumping platform, Leehan already strapped up and ready to go while you just linger for moral support.
Leehan runs a hand through his hair, causing the strands of his brown locks to cascade across his forehead. “I’m so excited. I’ve wanted to do this for forever,” he remark excitedly. The elevator rises into the air, making your stomach drop as you peer through the glass window and notice how high you are.
“This is higher than I thought it would be…:
“Don’t be scared. I’m here, aren’t I?” Leehan replies, a joking tilt to his voice as he smirks at your puzzled reaction. 
Amused at the presumptuous notion that his presence would bring any kind of comfort to you, you raise a curious eyebrow, asking in derisive sarcasm, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” 
“It means I won’t let anything happen to you,” he declares sincerely, though like always you can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. Because while his words seem purely absurd, he says them with such shocking clarity that it’s not hard to feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Plus, he does spontaneous things like this – taking a detour from a road trip to go bungee jumping – with such confidence that it gives credence to the idea that he’s a person who is serious in all of his crazy ideas.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
It seems crazy to admit to yourself that, for reasons you can‘t understand, you actually feel like you do trust him. You also hate the way that his smile seems to unlock all types of hidden depths of desire deep within you, a feeling beyond just nerves overtaking you until you have to look away to keep yourself from smirking.
“Stop talking nonsense. I think the adrenaline is making you delirious,” is what you mumble when you don’t know what else to say, and the sound of Leehan’s laughter in the aftermath let’s you know you're not convincing anyone by trying to appear unaffected by his flirting. 
With a shaky thump, the elevator reaches the jumping platform. You watch from a slight distance as an attendant attaches a series of ropes and hooks to Leehan’s harnessed back. He peers playfully over the railed edge of the platform, where at least 100 meters of air meet him. And although his expression remains passive, he nervously says, “Wow, this actually is really high. I just might die today.”
Still leaning over the edge in a way that causes you anxiety, he continues after a wry laugh that makes it difficult to tell if he’s joking or not. “I’m too young to die. I haven’t accomplished all of my goals. I haven’t even graduated college. I haven’t been in love.”
Whether he’s being serious or not, you still can’t help the “Don’t say that,” that leaves your mouth automatically at his words. And whether it’s because he’s pleased to hear you expressing concern on his behalf or simply another one of his strange moments of variablity, he meets your gaze and goes from deadpan to smiling.
“If I do die, I’d die happy knowing your pretty face is the last thing I see,” he remarks passionately, and the corny-ness of the sentiment makes you roll your eyes disbelievingly. Leehan’s grin never wavers. “I’m gonna convince you to jump too, you know.”
You should probably be more resistant to the idea, and yet there’s a part of you that feels more assured seeing Leehan do it all so fearlessly. “Now that I’m up here…” you hear yourself say, taking a second look over the edge of the rail and finding yourself surprising calm at the image. “I just might.”
“Wait for me. I want to be there when you jump. I’m serious,” he says. When you meet his gaze, you almost laugh at loud at how sincerely serious he looks, how he goes from playful to passive to passionate so easily. 
The attendant finishes all of the safety precautions, giving Leehan the go-ahead to jump whenever he’s ready. But he remains where he’s standing, gaze never leaving yours as he once more says, “Tell me you’ll wait for me. If I’m gonna die right now, I need to hear you say it.”
It would be so easy to dismiss his passion as insincere, something to not take seriously, and yet you don’t. You acknowledge then that there’s no one quite like Leehan, no one who has managed to make you feel the things that he’s done in such a short amount of time.
“I’ll wait for you.”
Leehan smiles, and it really does seem like he needed to hear that, because he’s immediately bracing himself to stand on the very edge of the jumping platform, no rail to hold him back, just his own will. “Thank you, Y/N. We good to go?” he asks to the attendant, and when he’s given the thumbs up, he takes one last look over his shoulder to meet your gaze. “See you on the flipside, Y/N.”
It’s with those parting words that he leans headfirst into the abyss, bundles of rope cascading after him as he takes the plunge into the open air. 
He doesn’t let out a scream or a squeak, just jumps effortlessly, as if he isn’t scared of anything. 
His fearlessness is something that you’re simultaneously intimidated by and in awe of.
The attendant turns to you and asks if you’d like to go next. You’re replying yes, and in the next second you’re being strapped up in a harness. Leehan, who you were sure would be getting heralded into a boat and brought back to land by now, yells something that makes a lot of non-fear related butterflies flutter in your stomach. 
“Wait for me, Y/N!!!”
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Whatever it is that’s drawing you to Leehan so magnetically has you bungee jumping with him not just once, but five times. And with the permission of the attendant, you even jump a few times together at once, legs wrapped around his waist in a tight embrace and head buried in his neck to keep yourself from screaming in his ear. 
Once the adrenaline high has run it’s course and you’re back on the road, Sungho and Riwoo in tow, you find yourself worn out to the max. You fall asleep against the car window, lulled to sleep by the faint sounds of tire against pavement. 
You don’t know what time it is when you’re woken up by the sound of lowly-spoken voices, only that it’s dark outside. Someone must have put a blanket over you, because you can only see through the little piece of light not obscured by the soft fabric over half your face. Thinking you might still be able to fall back asleep, you remain still, only to hear something from Riwoo that catches your attention. 
“Hey, what happened to that girl you were with? What was her name? Matty?”
You hear a soft chuckle that you immediately attribute to Leehan, an assumption that’s confirmed by the next words you hear out of his recognizably low, deep voice. “Nah, I think you’re talking about Natty.
“Me and her were never together. We were just hanging out for a couple of weeks.”
“Just hanging out, huh?” repeats Riwoo, disbelief and disapproval all mixed together in his softly-spoken voice. “You’ll never settle down, will you, Leehan?”
Wondering why Sungho hasn’t chimed in, you open one eye just slightly to confirm that he’s snoring softly in the seat next to yours. And in the moment where your eyes are slightly squinted open, you swear you see Leehan’s head jut over his shoulder, almost if he was trying to confirm if you were still sleeping or not. 
You must’ve closed your eyes at just the right time, because his next words are, “Why when I can fuck anyone I want?”
In the same sense of poorly fitting clothes, words of these sort just don’t sound right coming out of Leehan’s mouth, but you remain silent and still under the guise of being asleep. You’re not sure how to feel in reaction to what you’ve overheard — on one hand, the camaraderie you’ve developed with Leehan so far doesn’t negate the fact that the two of you have no sort of formal relationship. You don’t even think you could call him a friend, not with the little time you’ve spent together. 
And yet, you still feel a hot mix of disappointment swirling inside of you just the same at the news of him not being the person you thought he was. But even just making that internal acknowledgment makes you feel stupid and childish – when did he ever promise or do anything to imply something of substance? 
“Are we here?” asks Riwoo, breaking you out of thoughts that grow more complicated with each second you have to stew on them.
“Yeah, wake everyone up,” says Leehan, and then, you have to pretend like you weren’t alert listening to their conversation as Riwoo softly shakes you awake.
Jaehyun and his group, who made it to the hotel first, are already waiting outside as you, Leehan, Sungho and Riwoo pile out of the car. After the eclipse is over, you’ll stay here overnight and drive back to campus the next morning.
Jaehyun was in charge of booking the rooms and thus goes inside by himself to handle the check-in process. The rest of you wait outside, where the nighttime chill has you wishing you would’ve brought a jacket. You wrap your arms around your body in an effort to warm yourself.
You’re caught off guard for a moment when a wool cardigan is placed onto your shoulders from behind. Turning around to find Leehan behind you, you let out a sigh. “You scared me,” you grumble.
“Boo,” he halfheartedly exclaims before wrapping the jacket around your body tightly. It leaves him in just a t-shirt. “Here. You look cold.”
You know you should take the gesture for what it is – a simple, kind thing to do for someone you see shivering in the cold – but after what you heard earlier you find yourself searching his dark eyes, wishing you could read him now more than ever. 
“Thank you,” you reply softly, hearing your voice come out lower than intended and hoping he doesn’t notice as he walks away aimlessly.
It’s at that moment that Jaehyun comes out from the hotel lobby, holding a packet of keys in his hands and announcing, “Hey. They accidentally gave us an extra suite, and since they’re not busy, we get to keep it.”
There’s a chorus of cheers and commentary among the nine of you that’s interrupted by you asking, “How are we deciding room assignments?” 
“Rock, paper, scissors is what we usually do,” answers Sungho sensibly from beside you, and with that, everyone gathers in a circle for the game. Not invested in where you’ll sleep, you play rock each round, and somehow end up winning against Riwoo for the solo room.
“It’s a shame,” you remark, staring down at your winning fist a little regretfully. “Just as I was beginning to get to know you guys, and I get heralded off into the room by myself”
“It’s okay, Y/N. Thanks to Leehan, we probably already know your entire life story,” says Riwoo kindly in consolation.
“True,” you concede. Your gaze flits over to Leehan, looking to see if he had any reaction, and you find him staring blank-faced into the sky. You notice how he often has these dreamy moments where he seems to be in his own world, unchallenged by what’s going on around him. It’s hard to relate to someone so strange, and yet the fact that he marches to the beat of his own drum is one of the things you find most attractive about him. Maybe that’s why you’re having such a hard time reconciling with what you heard in the car, unable to imagine a person like him doing the things he spoke of.
“Well, the eclipse doesn’t start until midnight,” announces Jaehyun, looking down at his watch. “So I guess we can chill in our rooms and meet back outside when it’s time.”
Jaehyun gives everyone their room key, and from there you head inside and find your suite on the first floor. The first thing you do when inside is take a nice long, hot shower. After a full day spent sitting and sleeping in the confines of a car, the hot water is just what you need to feel energized again. You change into something comfortable and are drying your hair when suddenly, you hear a knock at your door.
“Who is it?” you shout as you make your way to the peephole, thinking you’ll see housekeeping with an extra towel or a neighbor complaining about you using up all the hot water. Instead, you’re faced with the distorted image of a dawdling Leehan as he leans against your door.
“Who do you think it is?” you hear him say in his deep, sinewy voice, and through the peephole you can just make out the smirk on his face – he hasn’t even done anything yet, and yet you already feel butterflies erupting in your stomach as you’re opening the door to face him.
Leaning against your doorframe in the t-shirt and sweatpants you’ve seen him in all day today, you watch Leehan look almost guilty, like he’s doing something he isn’t supposed to by coming to your room like this.
“Are you playing Mr. Anonymous again tonight?” 
Leehan, as if considering the question you intended to be sarcastic seriously, furrows his eyebrows in concentration. “I don’t think so. Are you gonna let me in?”
You take a few seconds to consider the request, although mostly for show. Truthfully, it’s a little embarrassing how your body is already buzzing in reaction to his presence, how you become girlish and flattered inside at the idea of him seeking out your company like this. 
Opening the door to let him inside, you watch as he immediately goes to sit on the edge of your bed. You close the door shut behind you and go to stand over him, though several feet away. “Why are you here?” you ask softly. Not at all opposed to his company, you’d stil like to hear what brought him here.
“Why do you think I’m here?” he questions back with a sheepish grin.
You roll your eyes at what is clearly him playing coy. Why make the move in coming over here if he wasn’t going to be direct? To waste your time by not being clear with what he wants? “You ask a lot of questions in response to other questions,” you point out with a frown.
“Sorry. It’s the philosophy major in me,” he explains in clusmy apology, leaning back aginst his palms and letting his eyes roam you. “You look pretty with your hair wet.”
Done trying to force explanations out of him, you simply remain silent and watch him watch you, and for someone whose usually so hard to read, you love how easy it is to tell when he’s checking you out. Now that you think of it, since you’ve known him, it’s been moments like these – when he’s on top of you or eating you out from the back – when you’ve truly felt like you understood and related to Leehan.
You take a few steps forward so that you’re standing just in front of him, and the way his gaze never leaves your body the entire time causes your insides to jump. “Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, when it clearly seems like he won’t be the one to break this silent tension.
“Because I want to fuck you,” he replies assertivley, being as direct as it gets, and his unfiltered candor causes the both of you to giggle at once. He follows up by asking shyly, “Too honest?”
“You’re crazy,” is all you say in responsw, moving forward even more so that you’re directly slotted between his legs. He raises a hand up to rub against the back of your thigh, and the fact that his hand is big enough to reach across the entire width of your leg makes you shiver. 
“If you’re not in the mood, tell me, and I’ll leave,” he says, avoiding your gaze when he does. Perhaps he’s assuming that your lack of immediate action means you’re not interested when really, you just find it fun to not make it easy for him. He must be so cocky to think that just by expressing his desire to fuck you you would immediatly fold. Humbling him, even in the smallest ways, lets you feel like you’re in control of this dynamic when honestly – both of you know that by the end of this interaction, no matter how long you drag it out, he’ll have gotten what he wanted.
“So if I say no to you, it means I’m not in the mood, and not just that I’m not into Leehan?”
Leehan throws his head back in laughter at this. Loving the sound, you let out a giggle as well. “I think you’re a lot of things, Y/N, but you don’t give liar. I'm at least 80% sure that you’re into me,” he declares.
And that’s what’s so funny about Leehan – he can go from annoyingly confident to unsure within seconds. “Oh yeah? And what’s the other 20%?” you question in amusement.
Leehan shrugs, bringing his broad shoulders to your eager attention. “A man can never be too confident, can he?” he quips, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. 
It’s at that moment that you decide you’re tired of making him wait – taking pleasure in the way his pupils grow wide in attention, you move to straddle his waist, using the shoulders you were just fawning over to support yourself. “Well, you’re bad at math Leehan – what’s your last name?”
“Kim.”
“You’re bad at math, Kim Leehan,” you mumble, leaning down to kiss his plush lips.
Whatever banter or power dynamics that were present before are forgotten the moment his lips are on yours. He’s just so good at kissing, always making your stomach flutter with the way he deepens the kiss by pulling you in by your hair and how he quickly progresses to tongue. Beforew you know it, you’re flipped onto your back, arching your back as his hands wander your body.
“I have to tell you, Y/N,” he opens his mouth to suddenly say, pulling away from your lips as he goes to rid you of your shorts. “I don’t usually do two time hookups. After the first time, I thought I’d never you see again.”
Your chest rises and falls with the weight of several shaky breaths, desire racing through you as Leehan just plays with the little bow on your underwear, looking up at you as he awaits your response. “And is that what you wanted?” you ask. “To never see me again?”
“Not particularly. Still, that’s usually how these things go,” answers Leehan in an almost unfeeling way, something you don’t dwell on as the yanking of your underwear down your legs brings your attention to more important matters. ”But then you show up here, all pretty and  badly-behaved, I couldn’t wait to get you alone.”
You’re not even given a chance to laugh at the words he uses to describe you before he lets a single, thick finger slip into your wetness, the stimulation of which has you already moaning, arching your back. He pushes it in and out of you in slow, teasing movements that are made lewd by the sound of your wetness gushing in and out with his finger. When he goes knuckle deep, curling the digit inside of you, you throw your head back, asking for more.
“I wanna make you come, Y/N. I wanna make you come so bad.”
“So do it,” you mumble in response, once again struck by the intensity of him giving you pleasure like this while keeping his eyes locked on your face. Despite your pleading and his own admitted eagerness to please you, he maintains a steadily slow pace as he continues to push his finger in and out of you.
“I have to let you know something first,” he says, and although you hear him take on a more serious tone, you don’t pay any mind to it, too focused on your building pleasure to analyze another one of his characteristic changes in disposition. “I’m not interested in being your boyfriend. Or anyone’s boyfriend for that matter.”
You slightly perk up at these words, wondering why it’s so important for him to tell you them  now after he’s already took your clothes off and began fingering you into bliss. You don’t say anything in reply, only moan, hoping he’ll add another finger as he continues his languid movements.
“And if that’s an issue for you,” he continues, his voice grave and deep. “If you can’t fuck me knowing that, then we should stop now.”
To perhaps emphasize how serious he’s being, Leehan takes his finger out from you in one sudden movement, leaving you empty and unsatisfied. It has it’s desired effect because you find yourself sitting up, finally taking real consideration of his words.
“But if you still want me,” he says, the two of you face to face in a way that lets you see the absence of amusement in his expression for the first time since he started talking. “Then dare I say that I’ll look foward to this becoming a regular thing between us. Should you want that, of course.”
He runs a hand through his hair, perhaps expressing a bit of nervousness as he awaits your response to this sudden proposition you’ve been given. Finding it hard to take any of his musings serious, you reach a hand up to cup his cheek. “I mean, you’re not wrong,” you assert with a tilt of your head. “Why settle down when you can fuck anyone you want?”
Immediately understanding what you’re referencing, Leehan smirks. “You heard that?”
“Yeah,” you confirm with a pitying half-smile, “and it almost made every bit of attraction I had for you dry up.”
Even as Leehan smiles shyly, looking down to avoid your gaze, you still don’t get the feeling that he’s at all regretful about what you heard him say. “I mean, was I wrong?” he raises, running his fingers along the skin of your bare leg. “Right now, you’re what I want, and I’m fucking you, aren’t I? Is that not what this is?”
Faced with the reality of Leehan’s advances for the first time, you have a hard time deciding how you feel about the proposition he’s posed. You feel pulled to Leehan in a way you haven’t felt for anyone, ever. And a part of you is disappointed and maybe even a little sad that he’s basically asking you to boil down a dynamic you were curious to watch grow to just detached, casual sex. 
Earlier, when you went bungee-jumping, it stuck with you when Leehan mentioned never having been in love before. Is this why? Because he prefers relationships that are devoid of any true emotional connection?
You could say no and remain friends. You’d be able to watch your relationship play out in a platonic manner. But that would be denying yourself of some of the best sex of your adult life, not to mention the pure herione that is feeling sexually desired and wanted by him.
Faced with such a dilemma, you defer to your instincts. And instinctually, you’re inclined to believe that maybe you and Leehan were meant to meet this way. Before now, you don’t think you would have ever went for someone like Leehan with romantic intentions. 
He’s too wayward, too free-spirited. 
And yet, your paths were brought together in an unlikely way, and perhaps you should lean into the feeling that caused you to follow him into a stranger’s bedroom just a few weeks ago – the promise of mindblowing sex.
“You’re an enigma, Kim Leehan,” you declare with sincerity. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend either. No offense.”
“None taken,” he replies with breezy indifference, bringing his hand to lay over the one you have on his face. “But don’t say that so easily. You don’t know me well enough yet.”
You roll your eyes at yet another show of cockiness from him. “And are you saying if I did, I would fall for you?”
Even as his expression remains passive, he replies forebodingly, “Isn’t that usually how these things end?”
You’re not sure what to make of that statement, so you decide not to respond. “Like I said, I don’t want to be your girlfriend. I do, however, want you to fuck the shit out of me. You’re capable of that, no?”
Leehan stares at you like he’s only now just capturing you and your essence, and his expression is that of someone in awe. It makes your heart and core flutter at the same time. “I really hope you mean it when you say you don’t want to be my girlfriend, Y/N,” he mumbles, and then, he’s leaning in to kiss you.
It’s as if there was never a lapse in intensity as you’re quickly brought back to the passion and vigor from before through the strength of Leehan’s kiss. Sliding his hands underneath your legs, he scoops your entire body up and positions you so that you’re laying down directly underneath him. It’s from there that he takes your shirt off, finding you braless underneath and wasting no time in attaching his mouth to your nipple. 
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he mumbles reverently, hands caressing the sides of your body as he switches from licking at your hardened nipple to talking. “You don’t understand how much I’ve been dreaming about this pussy since I had it.”
You want to tell him how flattering it is to hear that he’s been thinking about you in the time since you last had sex, and express your own desire, but you can’t when two of his fingers return to their previous lodgings in your still sopping wet cunt. He no longer holds back like he did before when he wanted you to hear him speak. Making your pleasure his top priority, he bends his slender digits deep inside of you, thrusting them in and out while you cry out with each brush against your g-spot.
“Does that feel good?” he asks, and if you weren’t so immersed in your own approaching climax, you’d laugh at how genuinely invested he sounds in knowing whether or not he’s doing a good job. To you, it should be more than obvious how well he’s doing by the way you arch your back at every thrust, reaching up to peck his lips but failing to maintain a steady kiss because of your moans. But Leehan’s oddball tendecies and moments of sudden sincerity are too familiar at this point to throw you off – instead, you find it sexy to experience both physically and verbally his commitment to making you feel good.
“Gonna come,” you’re confessing through whimpers just a few moments later, being brought to babbles as Leehan uses his thumb to stimulate your clit. His eyebrows become furrowed as he zeroes in on the pace that has thus far brought you to climax, rather than speeding up. 
What once intimidated you was the way that Leehan thoroughly studies your expressions as you’re experiencing pleasure. His searing eye contact, his unreadablly passionate expression, the way it’s almost as if he’s looking through you rather than at you. And yet, when the intensity of your orgasm begins to travel throughhout your body, the sound of him saying, “Come on my hand,” ringing softly in your ears, it’s through looking in his eyes that things feel increasingly more passionate. 
To feel this sexually connected to someone who up until this point was just a one-night-stand confounds you, and yet leaning in to such connection has led to some of the best orgasms of your life.
“Turn around, pretty girl,” is what he tells you after you’ve come down from your orgasm, and in your eagenerness to get him inside of you, you follow the request without question. Still, remembering his insistence from before about wanting to maintain eye contact when he fucks, you find yourself teasingly asking while facing the bedsheets, “What happened to wanting eye contact?”
“Who said we couldn’t?” he raises playfully in reply, and before you can question what he means, you feel one of his large hands snaking around your body. He pushes at your stomach and hips, helping you into an elevated arch. From here, it’s much easier for you to turn your head around without craning your neck, something you realize as Leehan pulls gently at your hair and meets you for a sloppy kiss.
When he pulls away, you shiver, your body reacting in shock to the attractive gesture. He notices this with a grin and must interpret the reaction as nervousness. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite. Unless you like that?”
“Shut up,” you grumble, laughing as he sits up and releases his hold on your waist. It causes you to fall flat on the bed, where you relax in anticipation as you hear the sounds of him taking his clothes off behind you.
“The fact that you even remembered I said that makes me happy,” he remarks in reference to the eye contact comment, and the sudden sentimentality of that statement makes you feel non-sexual related butterflies towards the man behind you. But your focus is brought back to the sex as he positions himself behind you, gripping onto his shaft and rubbing it along the expanse of your slit. You moan, but then remember that you neglected to think of protection.
“Fuck, I forgot about condoms.”
“Don’t worry. I have some,” he says, and you watch over your shoulder as he goes to rummage through the pockets of his sweatpants, discarded and left on the edge of the bed. 
“Should I ask why you came on this trip prepared for condoms?”
“Because cum makes for the best fish bait,” he replies ironically in response, and you realize then how attracted you must be to Leehan to hear him say these sorts of things completely sincerly and not lose even an ounce of your desire for him. He’s not at all deterred by your lack of reaction to his musings, either. Lining his condom-clothed cock up with your entrance, he asks, “Are you ready, sweet girl?”
If the fact that your entire body was buzzing with arousal wasn’t enough for you to want him to fuck you, the use of that pet name takes you over the edge. “Yes, please.”
“Gonna go slow so you can feel every inch of me,” he informs you fliratiously, pushing inside of you and making true to every part of that promise as you feel every inch, ridge, and vein of his cock as it enters, making you mewl until he’s balls deep. “How’s that?” he asks in search of your approval.
“So, so good Leehan,” you reply, loving the way that you can look back into his eyes and see the same pleasure you’re experiencing etched into his expression, furrowed eyebrows and lip between his teeth as he begins to thrust into you.
He makes a throaty, husky mhmm noise in your ear, something you reciprocate in your own whiny way in reaction to the languid pace he’s set. A hand on the left of your body is used to hold himself up while the other rests on your lower stomach, helping to push you backward on his cock so that the impact of his each thrust is doubled by both of your efforts. The words “You’re perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect,” mumbled into your ear as he fucks you make your entire body stand on end, something about being fucked just right in combination with his poetic way of talking making you absolutely crazy. 
Still maintaining eye contact with you, you feel the warmth of his body leave your back as he sits up fully. You’re almost dismayed until you feel pressure against your asshole, hearing him say, “Do you like it when I play with you here, too?”
“Oh my god, Leehan,” you exclaim in reply, the pressure of his thumb against your ass in combination with his thrusts become too much in the best way. “Don’t stop.”
Leehan doesn’t stop, and in fact, as you hear him lewdly spit on the surface of his hand, his thumb penetrates the tight expanse of your asshole. You moan as the added stiumulation makes your climax feel like it’s coming at you at an even faster rate than before. And Leehan, clearly perceptive to this, says, “Not yet. Beg for it.”
In your desperation to come, you don’t question the next words out of your mouth; in fact, you relish in the way Leehan groans in response to them. “Want you to make me come, Leehan. Please. Wanna feel you come inside of me.”
Continuing the trend of breeding-related teasing, you find that a remark which should be nonsensical considering the condom you both feel him wearing, if anything makes you both more turned on. “Take it then, baby. Coax it out of me,” he tells you, and by the withering sound of his voice, you can tell he’s close to climaxing. In a moment of serendipitous alignment, you find that you too, are dangling over an edge where on the other side is another moment of Earth-shattering pleasure. 
It’s something as simple as a wiggle of his thumb inside of you, a thrust so firm that it almost causes your arch to collapse, that has you reaching the peak of your pleasure. And Leehan, whose pained expression you can see as you never once stop looking behind your shoulder, quickly follows you with a hoarse grunt. There is something just so amorous about reaching that peak together, something like pride and satisfaction and fondness washing over you at once until you’re both collapsing tiredly on the bed next to each other. 
You’re first to break the breathing-filled silence, turning on your side to look at Leehan and finding him more attractive than ever in his post-orgasm state. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how good you are at that,” you tell him, feeling suddenly inclined to reach out and swipe at the stray pieces of hair on his forehead. You resist if only to maintain the boundary of familiarity that has only loosely been established between the two of you.
But to your surprise, Leehan reaches out to lace his hand into yours, defying any sort of expectation that you shouldn’t continue to remain physically close after sex. He raises both of your arms upward in a trumphant gesture that makes you laugh. “We. How good we are at that,” he remarks correctivley.
He lets your hand go and for a second you both just lay there in comfortable silence, until you realize the entire reason why you’re staying at a hotel six hours away from home. “Wait. What time is it? Did we miss the eclipse?”
Leehan leisurely reaches for his phone on the bedstand, taking a quick glance at the time before bringing the screen it to your view. It’s just a few minutes after 11:30. “Perfect timing, actually,” he says, and then, raising a questioning eyebrow, asks, “Shall we go out together?” 
It is of course, as a result of your utmost predilections, to say yes, so within a few moments you’re both dressed in your previously discarded clothes and headed outside the hotel. 
Even if it was a concern for you, you luckily don’t have to worry about the rest of the group making conclusions about the fact that you arrive together, because you go outside to find that they’re all too focused in finding a good spot to lay out on the grass to get the best view of the approaching eclipse. 
Jaehyun, flamboyant as ever, has Sungho help him onto the hood of his car so that he can get on top and watch it from there. Everyone else either scatters on the grass with blankets or leans against the car. You ultimately settle for watching it behind everyone else, standing in the spce just between the car and the grass.
The eclipse, just as expected, is a beautiful sight. But what excites you more is the moment when you feel someone’s hands snaking around your body and into the front pockets of your shorts. Leehan hugs you from behind, saying nothing as he rests his chin on the top of your head and relaxes into you. Standing in the back of the group, no one else notices the moment between the two of you, which makes it feel that much more special.
As you tilt your head up to confirm it’s him and observe the way he watches the eclipse dreamily, it fills you with thoughts about the budding relationship between you two. You can’t help but think back to the words you overheard him saying earlier in the car.
They were the sentiments of someone who seemingly had no regard for what it meant to share your body with someone for an extended period time, to bare yourself physically and emotionally for the pleasure of another person.
But in your time with Leehan, you’ve never been made to feel that way. Like lightning in a bottle, the chemistry and connection between the two of you is not something that could be manufactured. 
Far from feeling as if you’re too special for this to end, you simply are confident that, even if this grows to be nothing more than sex, the feeling of being wanted and desired by Leehan is too good for you to ever be made discontent.
As you pack up to leave the next day, Leehan lets Riwoo drive his car for a chance to relax instead of having to be alert for six hours. He sits in the backseat with you, and for one final moment of tenderness between the two of you, he spends the entire ride with his head rested against your shoulder, snoring softly as your closeness renders him sleepy and relaxed.
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part 3 coming soon :)
taglist: @lailols @papichulomacy @0310s @softiwoon @gardenforwon @cherrytaesan @mryuyux @saintriots
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gojo-mochi · 3 days
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OMG- ur frat boy au 😩
But I def head cannon that law even though he is more reclusive than the other frat boys he does occasionally participate in group tutoring and has you sit next to him and when you start to tease him during the tutoring he would start to tease you back but actually like finger fuck you or play with your clit as a punishment for making him distracted while he's supposed to be getting his service hours in.
I also hc that for Ace ( my love 😍) would absolutely 100 fucking percent would tutor you or your tutoring him in the library in the middle of the night when no one is around and is having you read out loud for him and he's absolutely going ham in your pussy with his fingers and he makes you squirt on the textbooks making them get all wet and dirty with your juices so he makes you go up to the librarian and report that you accidentally got a book wet.
Jdbfwhebwhh- I fucking love ur frat boy au tho like 😩 I would actually do anything for men who are frat boys like-
Sorry for the late response! I wanted to write something for this and things kept piling up BUT i'm here now and thank you so much for liking my frat boys! Heeh ٭(•﹏•)٭
Law is so mean!! So, so mean god… But he likes it (secretly) when you tease him by wearing those short miniskirts, and wearing no panties during your tutoring session!?! You were def asking for him so don’t cry to him when he’s keeping you on edge the whole time and you better answer his question correctly to show that he’s a good tutor or else…..(ノ´ з `)ノ
THAT SO DIRTY ACEEE RAHHHHH, god.. He such like a fuckboy (in my story at least) JUST THAT puppydog sweet boy look with a fuckboy personality just hit so gooooooddd ughhhhh thank you for giving me these prompts! Hope you enjoy the fic! (◕ㅅ◕✿)
CW: Toxic! Law and Ace (My version of them as fratboys! Not canon-adjecent! I love these sweet boys), mention of cheating, manipulation, P/V, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, squirting, voyeurism.
Word Count: 7k
A/N:THank you so much to @kazieai for being my beta reader!!!  ( ˘ ³˘)♥ Little surprise at the end of Ace eheh <3
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Tutoring Session with Law: 
Group study session means less time he has to waste actually tutoring since he can just cross off a lot of extra hours by helping everyone at once. He would never admit it out right to you or anyone for that matter, but you were his favorite student by far. Not necessarily because you were a good student or anything like that. It was because in every session he had with you, you always wore the shortest skirt paired with something low-cut so when you lean over the table to ask a stupid question, his eyes would get a nice view of your chest. By the third session you had with him, you forego wearing a bra and just let your nipples get all perky from the nice cool library’s air conditioning. 
He really punished you the first time you did that, pulling and tweaking at your little nubs until you were crying from oversensitivity. Only to soothe away your cries with his skillful tongue and fingers digging deep in your pussy. You loved it though, teasing Law to the point where he lets go of his restraints and just bends you over the table and starts punishing you. It’s a good stress reliever for both you and him, of course.
Law almost denied your request to join him and other students in group studying, knowing that you’ll try to pull some kind of dirty trick while he’s trying to finish his service hours. Though once you gave him your sweetest puppy dog eyes, he caved in pretty quickly. And to his surprise, you showed up wearing something that actually covers your skin and wasn’t just some torn cloth marketed as “clothes”. A simple turtleneck sweater with a matching skirt and silk stockings to top it off. 
Law eyes you warily when you plop down on the seat next to him, but says nothing to you and focuses on the other students instead. You pouted at him and pretended to write down some notes or read the textbook you were assigned. Absent-mindedly flipping thru the pages, barely paying any attention to the words. You hear Law sigh a lot during the session, pencil tapping against the wooden table when he sees one of the other students typing away at his phone under the table. 
His other student doodling in his notebook, not paying attention to anything Law was trying to teach them. It was you, Law, and two other male students all huddled together in a corner of the library. While he could just pretend to teach them and get this session over with, he wasn’t sure if his hours for this would count if half of his students were gonna fail or get worse grades after his tutoring. At the very least, he knew you would retain some of his teachings, you knew you would be punished if you didn’t after all. 
And it wasn’t the fun kind of punishment either, the one where you were left wobbling with red cheeks afterwards. No, if you end up failing a quiz or your grades drop even a little, Law would either ignore your attempts to reach out to him or worse. He would openly flirt with someone in front of you, most likely one of the girls from the sororities his fraternity would often host parties with. He would prance around with one of those girls strapped to his arm, nodding and using his fake smile on them. Knowing how much your blood boils when those girls start pressing their boobs on his bicep, that was your job, goddamn it!
You took your anger out on your studying, furiously writing down notes, huffing and puffing through your textbook, and staring holes in your teacher's skull during lecture. All so you could get one of the top grades during the test next week and so you could flip off the sororitie’s girls when Law publicly praised you and you pulled him in for a steamy kiss. No one was really sure if the two of you were actually dating or fucking around. Whatever kind of sick game the two of you were tangled in, the other frat members knew not to fuck around with you. Law has special access to the chemical lab at the university and he made vague threats about poisoning his brothers if they tried anything with you. 
You rolled your eyes when you found out about it, but secretly it made your heart skip a beat, seeing how possessive he would get over you. You could see now by the way his brows were furrowed in that Law was getting more than annoyed. You decided to fuck with him even further, by inching your leg over to his side. Slipping out of your shoes and going over to Law’s side and nudging his ankle softly. Law glanced at you from his side vision but you pretended to be writing down something in your notebook instead, not paying him any mind. 
He pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath, deciding to focus on the other students first. Law grabbed one of the heaviest books on the table and slammed it down hard on the wooden table. The thump made everyone else jump a little, all eyes were on Law now who just glared back unamused. 
“Now that I got everyone’s attention, I’ll be honest and say that I don’t give a fuck about any of you.” He takes a quick glance your way as he said that but focuses back on the boys. One of them tried to open their mouth to speak back but Law cut him off. “That being said, we all are here for a reason, and my reason is that I’m forced to get service hours or my lab privileges are revoked.”
He grabbed a pen in his hand and point it at the male students, “And trust me, if my lab privileges on campus get revoked, I will find a way to set up a new one, and I think the first test subjects I’ll use, are the dumb-fuck students who fucked me over.” He said in a casual tone, twirling his pen around his fingers, the students gulped nervously just now noticing the tattoos on his hands. You suppressed giggling at this tense moment, feeling your heart flutter whenever Law gets like this. 
You quietly scoot closer to him, rubbing your foot up higher on his calves and resting a hand on his thigh. Law continued on like nothing was happening, “So, I suggest for the sake of all our sanities, that you two actually get to studying.” He leans back in his chair and spreads his legs apart wide, knocking your leg back a bit. You pout at this but it didn’t deter you, moving your hand further down and squeezing his bulge a little bit. Already hard and poking through his jeans, you bit your lips at the realization. 
Scooting your chair even closer until it was right next to Law’s chair, the other two boys were too scared to pay attention to you or your antics. Law’s lip twitched but he pressed on forward, instructing the boys to open their own textbook and start listening to his lecture. While you do love his voice, hearing him drone on about molecules and compounds didn’t really help make you wetter. 
You decide to get bolder and unzip Law’s jeans very slowly. Your head turns to face him as you do, pretending that you’re really listening to his lecture but in reality you just want to see if he could maintain a straight face while you slip your hands inside his pants. His eyes were pointed at the two other students, glaring harshly making sure that they were taking down the right notes. With his legs spread wide, you had easy access to fiddle around with his bulge. 
“Wrong, redraw the structure of that compound again, you missed an oxygen in there.” Law drones out, flicking some eraser shavings over to the student’s paper. All the while your hands dips down lower and lower, cupping his balls in your warm hands and playing around with them in the way you know he loves. Law grunts softly in response but does not take your hand away, you bump shoulders with him and pout. 
“Law, can you look at my notes too? I’m not sure I did it right…” You whined, squeezing his balls a little harder to make sure he turns his attention to you. This time Law grabs your wrist firmly and yanks your hands out of his pants. His eyes turned to you, and you flinched back a bit at the heavy glare. 
Perhaps you went a bit too far this time with your antics, he turns his body towards you and looks over your notes, all the while his hand still holds on to your wrist. He points over some areas you should’ve written down more information and silently moves his hands off your wrist and down onto your thigh. You looked down at his hand but he snapped his other hand in front of your face; “Oy, pay attention, ya?” 
You flinch back a bit as his hand inches further down your thigh, his long fingers tracing around the edge of your skirt. His golden eyes piercing down your soul right to your pussy as he makes you rewrite some notes down before turning his attention back on the other students. You fidget under his cold hand, causing him to pinch your skin lightly. A silent order to keep you still and the others unassuming. 
The grip you had on your pen was shaking a little by now, his hand getting bolder with each passing second and he wasn’t even looking at you when his fingers finally reached out and poked at your panties. Well, he would have poked at your panties, if you were actually wearing any today…
You fought back a yelp as his finger pushed past your walls a bit, his nails scraping against your softness. Meanwhile, Law had to maintain a straight face once he realized that you weren’t wearing anything down there today. Oh, now you were in for it…
Law wasted no more time as his skillful fingers plunged right back in, pointer and middle finger sliding down your slick walls, as his thumb gets placed right on top of your clit. Gently rubbing it in small circular motions. With just enough pressure for you to feel it but not enough for you to fully enjoy it. You tried to buck up your hips to get more friction but Law just pinch your clit in response, making you hiccup out loud, having everyone's attention on you. 
You shy away from their gazes, your face heating up especially from Law’s eyes on you. You cough awkwardly and point to your water bottle; “Heh, just a dry throat.. I’m alright.” Your shaky hands grabbed the bottle and you chugged down the rest of the liquid inside as the other students went back to their notes and Law’s fingers went back inside your cunt. 
Only his middle finger this time, Law slowly sinks his long digit in and out of your pussy, covering his finger in your sweet slick. All the while, he maintained a bored expression on his face and actually started tutoring the other students. They were whipped into gear now, asking questions and asking for help on parts they weren’t sure on. This session might turn out great at this rate, but you couldn’t really give a shit. 
You wanted Law to give you more attention, more friction, you wanted his cock inside of you now. Or at least more of his fingers, he was hitting the right spot but it wasn’t enough for you, barely enough for you to feel that spark of pleasure each time he curled his finger in. You bit in the inside your cheek as you dared to bring one hand down under your skirt and start playing with your clit yourself. Of course, Law did see you doing this, but he did nothing to punish you for it at the moment. Instead, he actually plunged in another finger inside your tight walls, scissoring them outward as your own fingers start to play with your clit. 
You knew that a punishment was gonna come sooner or later, but the pleasure felt so good to care at this point. Your own fingers started to speed up along with Law, and just when you were finally reaching that point of pure ecstasy, he pulled his fingers out, causing a needy whine to slip past your lips.
Everyone’s head snapped towards you, Law calls out to you with a faint smirk painted across his face, “Oy? Everything alright there?” He leans into your space, smearing his slick-covered on your forehead as he pretends to check for a fever. Your face heats up even more at the contact, wanting to slap his hand away but not wanting to cause any more suspicion. You meekly nod your head while glaring sideways at Law, he pulls his hand away with a sigh and motions for everyone to start working again. 
“Alright, the library closes in 30 minutes so everyone listen up. I’m gonna go over the most important parts you need to know for the upcoming exam.” Law snaps his fingers and holds out his notebook for everyone to see. “Let’s make the most of our time now, so we never have to see each other again, yeah?”
His eyes gaze over everyone, gauging their reaction and seeing if they were actually paying attention to him. You were still glaring at him but at least your eyes were on him as well. He nods and leans back in his chair, holding up his notebook in one hand as he casually flips it easily by maneuvering his fingers around the pages.
His other hand went right back to its rightful spot, in between your legs, not that you were complaining. You may grumble or whine about it later to him in private but as of now, the need to be fucked overrides all your other senses. With a few taps on your thighs, you readily spread your legs apart for him. 
“...the most important thing is to remember the oxygen count…” Law rambled on and on, his voice drowning out the small wet plapping noises he was making underneath the table. He made sure to keep eye contact with you on occasion as well, not letting your eyes close or wander away from his lecture. 
Your own hands balled up into tight fists on your lap as you desperately try to keep calm and still while Law finger-fucked you under the table. His thumb sporadically swipes at your swollen clit, just to keep you tethering on that sweet euphoric edge. 
“..you can skip remembering all the structures if you’re better at remembering the formula for them, just bullshit it enough and the professor will go easy on you…” 
You dug your nails into the palm of your hands, your thighs shaking around Law’s hand as he added another finger inside. His thumb picked up the pace and you slowly felt your self-control slipping away. 
“Well, that’s about covers most of it, does anyone have any questions?” Law draws out, looking around the table and stopping at you. His eyes glinting at your nervous face and carefully watching for your reaction. “Y/N? You seem like you have a question you want to ask, no need to be all shy now~” He teased a little at the end, and now everyone’s eyes were on you. Your mouth flounders around a bit, as you try to find your voice. 
“I-um don’t really hav-ahhiee!” 
Law being the prick that he is, made sure to pinch on your clit right in the middle of your sentence. Making you scream out loud, your scream echoing in the quiet library air. Your whole face burns with embarrassment as you hear Law quietly snicker to himself at your side. The other two students look at you with a mixture of confusion and redness on their faces. 
Before you could try to explain yourself, the librarian pops out of nowhere with an angry tick marked on her face. She points to her watch and clears her throat loudly in annoyance; “While it is nice to see students finally studying for once in here, I must warn you that the library closed around 10 mins ago. So please kindly pack your stuff and head out.”
She clicks her heels together and gives the group one last glare before huffing and leaving. 
“Uh.. thanks for the session, dude. I’ll just head out now.”
“Yeah… me too.”
The two male students quickly gathered up their stuff, ready to bounce from the tutoring session. Law waves them off after giving them one last order, “Don’t forget to sign the paper to let the school know that I tutored you, cause if you don’t, I’ll come find you..” 
They both nod in unison and scuttle off, while you smack your face in your hands. Letting out an embarrassed groan over the events that all occurred. Ready to get up and go scream about it later in the comfort of your bed. However, Law had other ideas as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest. 
A hand on your cheek as he hooks his thumb inside your mouth, forcing you to look directly in his golden eyes. 
“Hold up, you’re not thinking about leaving this place while you’re still this messy… were you?” To emphasize his point, his other hand comes down under your skirt to swipe up on your wet cunt. Collecting some of your warm cream on his fingertips and stuffing them in your open mouth forcefully. Mixing your own cream with your spit on his fingers for a while, wiping the excess on your lips and cheeks as he pulls out his fingers. 
He gathers up all the items left on the table and unceremoniously dumped them into his backpack. Slapping you on the ass and leading you to the bathroom for some extra tutoring.
“Guess, I’ll have to teach you to clean up after yourself too. Be grateful, ya? I don’t just do this for anyone.”
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Tutoring Session with Ace:
“Ac-Acee-hnggg We ca-can’t keep doing this.” 
You attempted to keep your voice as low as you can, while being pounded from behind that is. Ace’s large and warm hands gripping tightly on your waist, his thumbs digging into your sides, leaving marks for the future. Your incessant whining only fueled Ace to bury his cock deeper inside you, his hips slamming against your ass with each pounding. 
The chair you were gripping on for balance starts to wobble under the increasing intensity, your nails dig into the wood for any semblance of purchase. Leaving scratch marks that will surely get you in trouble if the librarian ever finds them. Ace bends down, breath tickling the back of your neck, his hot tongue licking up a stripe of sweat beading down your skin.
You bite back a moan, eyes darting around to see if anyone was passing by to catch you in this sinful act. Though with the pleasure building up inside of you at a rapid pace, you find it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. And just as you were about to cum, Ace bit down on your shoulder, hard.
The stinging pain went straight down to your core as you cum almost violently, your pussy clenching down on Ace’s cock which was still buried deep inside your womb. He insisted on not wearing a condom since, “It doesn’t feel good, and none of the sizes fit him anyway.” 
So, all of his cum spilled inside, filling you up to the brim as your legs shake underneath. Your head falls down on the seat’s cushion, while the rest of your body is being held up by Ace. He licks at the wound on your shoulder, lapping up some blood droplets that were seeping out. You groan when his licks start to get more and more sloppy, much akin to that of a dog. Specks of spit start hitting your cheek as he starts to shake his head side to side with his tongue still hanging out. 
You hiss at him and turn your head to look over your shoulder as you try to push him away. He laughs at you with a wide smile, leaning back and pulling his cock out and watching his seed begin to spill out as he does so. He grabs you by the waist and tugs you back into his chest. Spinning around so that he could sit on the chair with you snug on his lap. He spreads your legs open with his own, turning his head around as he searches for something on the ground. 
“Ah! There you are!” 
He smiles as he bends down to pick an article of clothing off the floor. He shows off your own cute pair of panties right front of your face, leaving you dumbfounded for a second. His smile grows mischievous like a cat that just got into something they shouldn't have. 
Ace hums to himself as he spreads your legs wider and reaches down with one hand and parts open your pussy with two fingers. Some of the cum starts to spill out, coating his fingers in the process but Ace happily purrs at the sight, bringing the panties down as well to wipe up his mess. 
“Ace!”
You whispered-yelled in both embarrassment and a bit of anger, you wiggle on his lap, hands pushing on his biceps to try to get away from him. Your efforts were useless as Ace just continued on cleaning up his cum dripping out of your sensitive cunt without a care in the world. Even humming a little as he does so; 
“...and the girls say, Save a horse, ride a cowboy..”
You sort of regret showing him that song, he loves to sing it especially when you’re riding on top of him. With a few more swipes up and down your pussy and a few bites from you on his biceps, the task was finally done. Your now cum-soaked panties were once again brought right up to your face as Ace showed off his work. 
“Ace, what the fu-mmph!”
Just as you were about to start to scold Ace, he unceremoniously shoves your ruined panties into your open mouth, gagging you in the process. Your slick and Ace’s cream started coating your tongue, letting you fully taste the sinful mixture of your actions. You had enough and ripped your panties out of your mouth and smacked it on Ace’s face, which he didn’t really seem to mind. 
“Ow, ow, Ok, I’m so-OW!”
Ace yelped and jumped up in pain, pushing you down to the ground in the process. Holding his crotch with both hands as he looked at you with teary puppy eyes. 
“Sweetheart! How could you hurt me in my most precious area like that?”
He rubs his crotch a little and looks down at it with a heavy sadness in his eyes, while you roll yours in return.You go over to slap him hard on the back as you begin looking for other pieces of your clothing scattered across the floor. Not your first time being fully naked in the back of the library but you were already caught once and you weren’t looking forward to being caught a second time.
Thankfully, it was just another member from his fraternity who caught you two. A sort of mean-looking guy, you think his name was “Lawrence”? or something close to that. He’s a fellow tutor but you really haven’t crossed paths with him often, he usually keeps to himself. You remember at that time you had your back against the wall while Ace held you up, fucking you against the wall. 
So you were the first one to notice “Lawrence” come around the corner, the only look of surprise on his face was his eyes widening a little before he gave you a little smirk. Leaning on the bookshelf, with a smug little smile on his face as Ace kept pounding inside of you. You tried to tell Ace that someone was here but your moans kept cutting you off and Ace was too pussydrunk to care at that point. 
You hid your face in Ace’s shoulder, embarrassed to be found in such a position. You peek over at your fellow tutor, finding “Lawrence” rolling his eyes at your shyness and getting off the bookshelf and taking a book out. He waves goodbye to you, and leaves soon after. You told Ace what happened afterwards, but he just said, “Oh yeah, us frat boys do that all the time. We like to share sometimes, ya know?”
You didn’t know and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know more. You shook your head free of these memories, patting your skirt down and making sure that your shirt was buttoned correctly. Now that you were fully dressed, just without your panties, you were ready to continue on with this “tutoring session”. You hear the sound of shuffling behind you and then a heavy weight on your shoulder as Ace sets his head down and begins to whine in your ear.
His arms snaking around your waist and pulling you back into his naked chest, at least he put his shorts back on this time.
“Come on, puppy-boy, time for us to actually study.”
Ace whines ever harder at your statement, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “But,  Baby girl!” You shake your head and start to move with him still wrapped around you, step by step as Ace drags his feet behind you.
“Firecracker, please let’s just talk this out. We can study even more once my balls get emptied again!”
You ignored him, walking over to a bookshelf and browsing the lines of books for an easy studying one. 
“My love, my goddess, my only one, the one that holds my heart, my soul, and my cock and balls.”
Ace gets closer to your ear with each nickname, you felt your cheeks heat up at the sweeter names, until he said that last one and you showed him that you really did hold his balls in your hands. Squeezing lightly as a warning, which only causes him to moan and start grinding on you instead. 
You squeezed harder and harder until he got the hint and backed off, with that weight off your shoulder, you grabbed the book and turned to Ace. Pointing to the book with an exasperated look on your face, “Listen, I need your grades to at least go up a few percent. I am literally about to get fired from this job, if they don’t.”
Ace opens his mouth to retort with something lewd again but quickly shuts it once he sees how serious you are. He nods softly, and sits down on the ground, tilting his hat back and looking up at you with a beaming smile.
Ace held his hand up like an honor scout and looked clearly into your eyes as he said, “I promise, I’ll try to learn something this time and pass the next exam with flying colors.”
You were still doubting him a little but decided this was the best you were gonna get, so you plopped down in front of Ace. Opening the book and telling Ace to read the passage out loud and tell you what the theme and underlying tone of that passage was. Ace scoots around you and places you on his lap, which causes your eyebrows to furrow but he holds his hands up again this time in mock defense.
He starts reading the passage out slowly, his smooth voice lulling you to a sense of calm in his lap. You settled in rather quickly, leaning back on his chest, your eyes following along as he spoke. After he was done and you asked your questions, you were surprised to find his answers free of any innuendos and contained actual full-fledged thoughts. 
He always acted like a dumb frat boy or a horny puppy so this side of him was new to you. The two of you kept on reading passage after passage, with your questions getting harder with each passage to test Ace’s knowledge and to see if he was still paying attention or not. He passed every question with flying colors, remembering every small detail and characters that appeared, and your heart fluttered with each answer he gave. This new side of Ace was somehow more attractive than his fuckboy persona. But you knew that Ace wasn’t the type of guy to date for long, you heard stories of broken-hearted girls with his name tattooed across their chest. 
A new pair of voices jolted you from these thoughts, as you strained your ears to try to make out the words. 
“Why are these books so far back?”
“I think it’s because no one really borrows them, even most of the professors don’t even know what half of these books mean.”
“Geez, and some of these are ancient too, almost as ancient as Professor Rayleigh, don’t you think?”
“Heh… yeah, let’s just find the damn book and go, it's kinda creepy back here…”
The sound of footsteps gets closer and closer to you, and you start to panic a little. While you both were clothed, it was still pretty obvious that you and Ace fucked, with the dishelved hair, the dried drool on your chin, and numerous lipstick stains and bite marks that litter across each of your bodies. 
You made a move to get up quietly, only to be pulled back down with an “Oof” escaping your lips. You turned your head back to glare at Ace who made a shushing motion with his finger, with his arm securely holding you down on his lap. 
“Wh-?”
Ace holds a hand over your mouth as you attempt to question him, holding you down even tighter as you try to wiggle out of his hold. He leans in to whisper in your ear, as your feeble attempts to escape proving no match to his strength. 
“Hold on, baby girl, take a listen. I think they’re really close to us now.”
You glared at him harder but stopped your struggle and listened closely. Hearing the sound of sneakers sliding along carpet and books being picked up and flipped thru, the two newcomers were browsing the aisle right next to yours. 
“If we try to move now, they’ll definitely catch us. So, let’s stay put alright, love?”
You hate to admit it, but he was right, there was no way you both could sneak over to get your stuff and sneak past them quietly at this point. You could only hope that they find the book they’re looking for in that aisle and leave quickly. You sigh and settle back in Ace’s lap, his hand leaves your mouth and rests on your stomach. 
The two of you fall quiet, listening to the shuffling of books and small murmurs from the two other students. The heat radiating from Ace’s body was pleasant against the chilly library’s air. Making you snuggle even closer to Ace, wanting to soak up every last bit of warmth he has to offer. 
Ace chuckles and wraps his arms around you, flexing his biceps as he does so. Swaying you from side to side softly, resting his chin on your shoulder, his hair tickling your face. He turns to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek, and it is with moments like these, that really make your heart flutter. Then, you start wondering what it would be like, if you and Ace made it official.
No more sneaking around, no more pretending not to be jealous when you see him with another girl at a party, no more keeping your friends up at night wondering if he really likes you or just your body. If you just bit the bullet finally and asked him what he really thought of you and this ‘relationship’. Does he hold the same feelings you do? Or is this really all just a game to him and you're just another side piece in his lineup.
While all these thoughts swirl inside your head, you didn’t notice how one of Ace’s hands started slipping lower and lower on your body, lingering on top of your thigh for a few moments. Ace carefully watched for a reaction but seeing as you were still lost in your head, he took this as a sign to keep going. Gently picking up the edge of your skirt and moving it upwards, inch by inch until more of your thighs are exposed and he could just barely see some of your pussy if he angled his head correctly.
You suddenly felt more chilly than before, snuggling backwards to find that warmth again, your mind still stuck in the clouds only to be shot awake by a finger swiping up your cunt. A hand was already on your mouth before you could scream, “What the fuck?!”
Ace shushes you, his grip tight on your face but not to the point of actually hurting you. 
“It’s just me, little flame, it’s just me…”
Ace nuzzles your cheek as an attempt to calm you down, while his finger still inside your cunt starts to wiggle around a little. You breath in roughly thru your nose, trying to express your anger at this ordeal. Ace only chuckles in return, softly calling you “Cute..” and continuing on. Swiping his thumb up and down on your still sensitive clit, making your legs jolt out a bit. You muffle out curses and squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting Ace to win this battle. But damn, he really knows how to use his fingers…
“I just want to thank you for today, my flame…”
“You seem so stressed out lately and this is my way of showing just how much I love you..”
Bullshit.. You knew what he was spewing out was just lies.. But you can’t deny how his voice affects you when it gets like this. All soft and smooth, filled with so much affection you could drown in it. A sickeningly sweet pool of lies, with you in the middle, slowly sinking down and down with each interaction you have together with him. And the worst part is, that you know you could easily just leave, get out of the pool and go find someone better… someone who might actually love you for you. 
But you don’t, you let Ace pull you in with his charms and stupid smile. You embrace the lies and pretend that in the end when it is all over and you’re alone in bed at night, that it doesn’t matter and you’re not crying. So, you pretend to struggle a bit more, pretend not to enjoy his cute little nicknames that he only reserves for you and none of his other fuck toys. 
Your hips begin to move up and down as Ace’s thumb starts rubbing small and quick circles on your clit, moving his fingers in and out in that rhythm that drives you wild. Muttering filthy praises in your ear as his movement gets faster and rougher, you moans subdued in his palm. Your legs jerking and twitching as you get close to that blinding pleasure that Ace always brings you to. 
With a final curl of his fingers he pushes you over the edge, taking his hand away from your mouth as you scream out, only to push his fingers down your throat as your body spasm and squirt all over yourself. Drool spills down your chin as you gag on Ace’s fingers, panting heavily as your body calms back down. You grabbed Ace’s wrist and pulled it away from you, so you can finally breathe normally again.
“What? You’re not gonna help me clean up?”
He brings up his slick-covered hands to your face, which you promptly slaps away and shush him for being too loud. 
Ace gets up and laughs, pulling you up with him. 
“Hey, hey, don’t worry! Those two left a while ago while you were zoning out about something in that pretty little head of yours.” 
He dusts off his pants and stretches his arm over his head, you turn to look away from him with an embarrassed blush flushing your face. You check the time on your phone and sigh, noting that it was almost library closing hours. 
“Come on, it’s time to go, the library is about to close.” You signal to Ace to get going, as you look around for anything you may have dropped. 
“We have to be fast about it, I also want you to check out the book to read later, alright?”
“Because, I really really need you to ace this test.” 
Ace snorts at that, “Hah, ace this test, good one, little flame.” He slaps you on the shoulder hard enough to make you stumble forward a little. 
“I mean it, Ace! Seriously, please just-”
“I got it, really I do! But, I might need some motivation during the late night, you know? Like a cheeky little photo to cheer me up?” 
You glare at him through your sideview, turning on your heel and stomping over to get your items, readjust your clothes, and fix your makeup if need be. You do some breathing exercises to calm yourself down, while you pack everything up in your bag and Ace’s bag, using some wet wipes you have on hand to clean yourself up as well. 
Ace comes sauntering by, soon after you were done with everything, holding the book up high in his hands proudly. You sigh and cross your arms at him, ready to get the night over with, your legs barely managing to keep you upright and walking after everything you've been through. 
You throw his bag his way, and walk forward first. Leading the way to the front of the library. Zipping up your jacket all the way up while walking so you could hide marks Ace may have left on you that you didn’t catch earlier. As you were reaching the front, you were surprised to see a student working the front desk instead of the usual cranky old lady. 
You’ve seen this student before, I mean she was gorgeous after all, you think she was in architecture or something to do with history. She usually hangs out with another beautiful girl with orange hair. Her blue eyes catch yours and you gulp  nervously, feeling like your entire being was being stripped down by her gaze. 
You steel yourself and walk right up to the desk with Ace coming up right behind you. Before you could say a word, Ace drops the book down on the desk and starts jogging off. 
“Hey! Sorry, I just got a text from my bros, they need me for something, so I gotta go! Just give me the book tomorrow or whatever, catch you later!” 
He leaves out the door before you could say anything or catch him, leaving you alone with the hot librarian lady. Somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to lock eyes with her so you just awkwardly cough, keeping your eyes on the book as you spoke. 
“Ah..um, I would like to check out this book please. Just for a week should be fine ... .thank you.”
You watch as her perfectly manicured hands take the book away and flip it open to scan the barcode inside the cover. You fiddle with the hem of your sleeves, too shy to watch her work. You hear her flip a few more pages and hum; “Interesting…”
You felt a small tap on your own hand and looked up to find her showing the book to you, opened to a random page, a random page with very suspicious wet spots on it…
Oh..
Oh no…
Oh my fucking god, you were gonna kill Ace then yourself. That if you don’t burn in shame and embarrassment right now. You sputter and flop around to come up with a believable excuse for those stains. 
“O-oh! Um gosh! Really sorry I think I might have dropped my water bottle on the table while we were reading, heh. I-I mean, yeah! I definitely knocked over a bottle of water when reading that book…” 
You trail off, realizing how high pitched your voice was, how Ace didn’t even bother to hide his kiss marks or love bites before he left, and how stupid you probably sound to her right now. Your shoulder slump down as your voice fades off to a quiet apology. She chuckles at this, a light and airy sound that makes your heart start racing hearing it. She catches your eyes again and this time you can’t look away. 
“Don’t worry darling, I know how to keep a secret.” She winks at you, and goes to flip the page back to the cover. Her finger swipes at a wet corner, which she then brings that same finger up to her mouth and licks it. All the while keeping eye contact with you. Your mouth drops wide at the sight, inciting another chuckle out of her. 
The next few moments go by in a flash as your brain tries to process what just happened. You're brought back to reality as she hands you back the book with a little card sticking out the top. 
“As much as I would love to keep playing with you, the library has pretty strict closing times, so I must ask you to leave.” 
You nod dumbly, shoving the book under your arm and stumbling your way towards the exit. She waves you off with such a pretty smile on her face. You walk outside in the crisp cold nighttime air and breathe in heavily. 
This was one hell of a night, you decided that all your brain cells were spent today so you would sleep on today’s event and think about it tomorrow. 
As you were walking back home, the little card that was in the book fell out. You bend down to grab it again and as you do, you read what’s on the card. 
“XXX-XXXX If you want to have a even better time <3 ~ Robin”
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brainoutofstock · 1 day
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Note: Hopping on the “Adler is Graves’ dad” train.
“Why don’t you keep in touch with your dad?”
Phillip gave you a look as if you had just announced you murdered someone. Only once did the identity of his father arise in a conversation in the three years you had been dating, and even that happened when he told about his mother to your parents at a family gathering and they asked him about his father. With his usual Southern charm he was able to dodge the question, saying his father was always career-driven and spent most of his time far from his family, so he barely knew him. That was all.
His knuckles whitened from the force he gripped the steering wheel with. You were sitting in a rented Land Rover, heading to a ski resort in Austria to spend almost a week there, and there was no escape from your question. He knew he would have to answer if he wanted to avoid a fight that would ruin your trip, and he had promised to be honest with you, which left him no choice but to tell you the truth about his father.
So he let out a long sigh and began to talk, forcing himself to focus on the snowy road ahead instead of that worried look on your face. Because he knew that’s what he would see, he knew you were aware there was an issue that caused the rift between the two of them. “My dad’s a difficult person. He’s been working for the CIA for a long time, I guess he lost touch with reality along the way. He lives in a different world than most of us and I assume he can’t really enjoy things like being in the company of his family anymore.”
You knew Phillip. Under the tough, confident, and cocky exterior he was truly caring and gentle. Well, at least with you and those he truly cared about. Family had always been important to him, imagining he was having such a complicated relationship with his dad made you sad. “Have you tried to talk to him about it?”
Your fiancé snorted at that. “Yeah, right, that would solve things, wouldn’t it? But I know him, I don’t wanna waste my time trying to get him to be honest with me. I just play nice, give him a call on holidays, visit him once or twice a year, and that’s it. To be fair, he’s not exactly happy with me. He would be prouder if I stayed in the Marines and kept serving my country.”
Nodding, you turned to look out the window on the side. “Was he a good father?” you asked quietly, although you could already guess the answer.
“When he was around, he… wasn’t that bad,” he replied hesitantly, making you surprised for the first time since the beginning of this conversation. “When I was younger, he taught me how to shoot, how to protect myself, then while I was in the military, we shared stories over a beer whenever we met. But once I realized I wanted to do something different, he became distant.”
You reached out to take his hand, squeezing it lightly with a supportive smile on your lips. “At least your mom’s nice,” you tried.
“Yeah, she is,” he agreed. “I have no idea why she stayed with him, but at least she’s happy.”
“Unlike him, you’re gonna be a great dad, I hope you know that. And a grandkid might bring him closer to you.”
He looked over at you with a raised eyebrow, wondering why you brought this up. You’d been trying for a baby for over a year now without success, then decided to keep a short break two months ago so you wouldn’t be that stressed about this. You two agreed not to bring it up for the next six months. But then his eyes narrowed as he had a growing suspicion.
“Are you trying to tell me something?”
With a short laugh, you flashed a happy smile at him. “Six weeks in.”
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Text
Yandere Malleus x GN Reader Brainrot
A/n: Hi! these are just random thoughts, I'm currently piled up with work so I couldn't continue writing anything else. I hope you like the crumbs though! Possibly OOC cause I haven't finished book 6, I hate Tartarus. Not proofread cause I did this for fun Yandere Malleus, who would transport you as the game's player inside the game itself, knew that "Yuu" was just a player-controlled character so when he first met you. he can't help but be fascinated by you. A truly magnificent person you are, he was drawn by you, the way you giggle when you talk with others, even if he was not present in the storyline, he lurked behind the screen, watching as you progressed the story. Yandere Malleus who'd be upset if you picked someone else to be your home screen, they don't know you like he does, so why care for such a character? he understands the appeal though, each and every "student" he encountered was by far interesting, they were aware like him, however, they could not see you, and only based on the limited choices you pick whenever you play the game, they truly wanted to meet you. Yandere Malleus would not even stop you from mingling with the characters you love, he transported you inside for the very reason of being close to you, he's not that crazy to stop you from talking with others or lock you away for selfish reasons. Your cute questions to them as you try to find a way to go back yourself, why even try? he thought you liked the game so why are you trying to leave?
Yandere Malleus who thinks so highly of himself that when you found out that he was aware of your situation, you tried to talk to him about the problem, he didn't even try to hide the fact that he was the one who got you stuck here, no matter what your reaction may be, he will always think he was the correct one. You belong here. Yandere Malleus who yearns for your touches, the moment you were alone, he'd pop out, subtly touching your fingers as he chats with you. He wonders if you noticed? Yandere Malleus who rarely gets jealous, only if you reciprocated the flirty advances of some students would he let his jealousy fuel his wrath, he won't do anything to harm the poor student... just a few passive-aggressive threats here and there. Although he finds it amusing to see students try to flirt with you, usually they try to avoid his "interests" if you get it. Yandere Malleus is the type that wouldn't constrict your freedom or stop you from being angry at him for what he did, every reaction you give is fuel for his love and obsession with you. He knows he's strong, so even if you "fight" him for anything, he'd just chuckle before caressing your hair and giving it a kiss in front of you, it's like he'll unknowingly taunt you like he's trying to get a rise off of you.
You can't run away from him.
Masterlist
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coloursflyaway · 20 hours
Note
hi this is ouija board anon ☺️ so glad to hear that my prompt will get two different interpretations! how fun!! feel free to use this ask to answer with the second fic if you’d like 💘 thanks for sharing!!
Hi and thank you so much for reaching out! I'll use this ask now, just so I can keep the original prompt until the other one is written 😊 And thank you so much for sending it in in the first place, I had a lot of fun with it!
“Charles”, Edwin starts, and there is something in his voice, something in between bewilderment and quiet displeasure, but still fond somehow. It’s one of the things that Charles likes about him most, that no matter how annoyed Edwin might get with him, there’s always an undercurrent of affection when he talks to him.
Charles might have had to question most relationships in his life, but he’s never had to question this one. Edwin likes him, has liked him for over ten years now, and Charles has vowed to himself never to take that for granted.
“Yeah, what’s up?”, he asks, sitting up straighter, just in case whatever is bothering Edwin will need more attention than a quip and a smile. It seldom does, especially when they are between cases, but one never knows.
“Why is there a ouija board in our office?” Edwin demands to know, holding the box up like it has personally offended him. It’s kind of cute, in a very Edwin kind of way.
“Oh!” Charles gets up, suddenly excited, because even if Edwin is the clever one between them, he’s actually proud of this one. “Isn’t that mint? I picked it up in one of the shops around the corner – and yes, I did leave some money behind, don’t worry – because I thought it might come in handy in future cases. You know, we could talk to someone who’s alive with it?”
“Why would you want to talk to someone who is alive?”, Edwin asks, prim in a way that means he hates the words coming out of his mouth, and usually, Charles can read him like an open book, but there is something strange about him now. A bit frantic, maybe, a bit unmoored.
“They might have something interesting to say?”, Charles offers, confused, and gets up so he can walk over to Edwin, pluck the ouija board from his hand. “See, they have this little planchette thing, we could move that around to ask a question-“
“But why would you want to ask a living person anything in the first place?” There is something slightly shrill tinting Edwin’s voice, and Charles wants nothing more than to soothe it, even if he doesn’t know how to.
“To find out if they know something for a case?”, he tries, but it’s obviously not the right thing to say, because Edwin’s thick brows knit together, his lips thin from how tight they are pressed. Charles frantically rifles through explanations in his head, because there has to be one, but he’s coming up short.
“But are we not the Dead Boy Detectives?”, Edwin challenges, and the shrillness is still in his tone, masking something else, something Charles has the feeling might hurt.
“Yeah, sure”, Charles agrees, and looks down at the ouija board for a second. It’s nothing special, just pressed wood and paint, nothing that should upset the most brilliant boy in the world like this. “What’s really going on, Eds? It’s just a toy, and if you hate it so much, it’s not like we have to use it or anything.”
“I’ve told you not to call me that”, Edwin starts, but there is no actual heat behind it, and now that is proper worrying. “It’s just…”
His voice trails off and he deflates; Charles has to force himself not to rush in and gather Edwin up in his arms, hold him close.
“…you have, in the past few weeks, occasionally referred to the fact that you miss aspects of living”, Edwin eventually says, after far too much time, soft and almost defeated, still saying the last word like it has personally offended him. “I was wondering if the acquisition of this… thing is part of that general displeasure with being dead.”
General displeasure with being dead is what he says, but when Edwin looks up at him, that’s not what is written on his face, and suddenly, Charles can read him again, as clearly as if Edwin had spelt his thoughts out to him, letter by letter.
“Edwin”, he answers, as softly, as warmly as he can, and there is so much worry, so much hope in Edwin’s eyes that Charles’ chest aches with it, both with affection and the pain of Edwin having to be hopeful in the first place. “There’s nothing about being dead with you that I would want to change.”
And it takes a moment, but then a smile blossoms on Edwin’s lips, and Charles needs to bite his own to stop himself from thanking every deity that might want to answer for it, for Edwin believing him.
“Truly?”, Edwin asks still, but there is no hope left in his voice, because it is not necessary anymore, just a need for reassurance. There is nothing Charles would rather offer.
“Absolutely”, he responds and the word comes easy as breathing, as easy as a heartbeat would for a living person, a breath.
And Edwin nods, looking brave and calmer and happy, and when the affection Charles feels for him threatens to overwhelm him this time, he just gives into it, pulls Edwin close and against his chest and holds him tight.
And this time, unlike most others, Edwin goes willingly.
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hawkinsbnbg · 2 days
Text
moony
prompt: stuff | word count: 483 | rated: T | tags: fluff, friends to lovers | @steddiemicrofic | ao3
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It was the Fourth of July again. Granted, the day didn't hold any good memories for Steve after Startcourt, but when Eddie asked to take him to the fair, he still agreed.
Because the Upside Down had been dismantled alongside Henry’s death back in 1986, and Steve had decided that 1987 would be their year.
What was better than to start making good memories together? Even if they were full of nosy teenagers and a platonic soulmate who wouldn't leave Steve alone once they learned about his huge crush on their local metalhead.
It didn't matter that Steve was being careful to not ruin his friendship with Eddie, because everyone—including Nancy and Jonathan, shockingly enough—all advised him to make his moves on Eddie as soon as possible.
But Steve had been burned too many times to not learn his lessons. That he always scared off his partners every time he got too ahead of himself.
No one would ask for a ring after only a week, and frankly, no one sane would want a house and six kids after just one month of dating him.
And since Steve was determined to not repeat his mistake, he tried to give Eddie time to get used to his… clinginess.
So far, Eddie didn't seem to mind Steve spending nearly every day hanging out with him. If anything, he always looked delighted around Steve.
That should mean something, right?
“Which ones d’ya like, Stevie?”
Startled from his daydream, he turned to stare blankly at Eddie and then the gallery gun in Eddie's hands.
“What?”
“Look at those little buddies over there,” Eddie gestured at the stuffed animals displayed behind the shooting targets board. “Why don't you take your pick, sweetheart?”
Steve gaped. This was his first time being asked that kind of question. The very move he usually brandished to make girls swoon, but never expected the day when it’d be used on him.
“Uhm,” he fumbled a bit before pointing at a white bunny in the center, “that one.”
“Cute,” Eddie chuckled.
Steve blushed, unsure which ones Eddie was referring to—him or the stuffed bunny.
Before he could become a stuttering tomato, Eddie cocked the gun and winked at him.
“Watch me, ‘kay?”
Steve nodded and did his best as Eddie's personal cheerleader.
No one remembered how many attempts it took for Eddie to get the prize. But holding Sir Fluffy—“a holy knight,” declared Eddie—in his chest, Steve was moonstruck.
Several years later, after Sir Fluffy was delegated to protect their daughter from nightmares, Steve got himself a new knight in dinosaur pajamas.
(“But I’m a dragon,” Eddie protested.
Steve, already halfway into dreamland, just snuggled up in his husband’s arms and mumbled, “G’night, Sir Edwyn the Dragon.”
Letting out an amused huff, Eddie pressed a fond kiss on his forehead, “Sweet dreams, my treasure.”
Somehow, Steve had ended up seeing a unicorn that night.)
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izukuwus · 2 days
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I don't think we can put this in the sports column (NSFW) - karasuno/reader
m.list - read on ao3
A/N: wrote this months ago. didn't edit it for ages bc I thought it would suck to edit. it didn't suck to edit it fucking rocked and I'm never questioning myself again hell yeah
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Summary: You infiltrate Karasuno's volleyball club for the university paper and take to bed a few of the rumors you've heard.
Warnings: smut, orgy/gangbang, oral sex, fingering, handjobs, double penetration, spitroasting, creampies, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, uhhhhh marking, exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism, overstimulation, light dom/sub stuff (submissive reader), uhhhhhh there's. there's a lot going on here guys. I wasn't fucking around when I said karasuno gangbang.
Word count: ~7000
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It’s the night before your first game since you started this little investigation, and you are pressed flat against the wall outside the gym, a hand firm against your mouth in a desperate attempt to not make a noise.
There’d been rumors, sure. And yeah, you were here to investigate those rumors.
Karasuno is such a good team. They’ve gotta be doing some crazy shit to be that close and play that well, though.
That had been the… family-friendly version of the rumors. The more salacious of them had gone into detail you’d blushed too hard to repeat—images of working out issues with clothes off and loud gasps and—
Okay, chill. You’re a journalist. This is nothing.
(Okay, you’re a journalism major, technically speaking. But you need to get used to these things. It’s not like you’ve never had sex before.)
You had enmeshed yourself in the Karasuno University volleyball team after picking up the scent of those rumors about a month ago. Most of the rumors, you thought, were too stupid to entertain. It’s not like they were actually partaking in witchcraft to win games. That would be completely stupid. You assumed, honestly, that they had just clicked. Yeah, it didn’t really seem like everyone got along—the freshmen were constantly at each other’s throats, the captain had his hands full reigning in half the team comprised of spitfires, and there was at least one guy who seemed to believe his job on the team was to piss off as many of his teammates as possible. The only ones safe seemed to be the seniors and the girls, of which there were three if you counted yourself.
So far, it had seemed to be that there was no version of the rumor that was true—no, there were no blood sacrifices, yes, they did sometimes sleep, no, there were no crazy orgies in place to encourage team bonding, and no, they did not seem to be some sort of micro-cult. Disappointing for your article though it was, they had welcomed you in with almost no resistance, and you had found nothing out of the ordinary. They were just… normal athletes. Maybe a bit more passionate than most, but… normal.
Except. Except.
Here you are, the night before they have a match, listening to wet squelches and distinct slaps and what is undoubtedly moaning, unable to figure out exactly who the moans are coming from except that there’s definitely more than two people involved in whatever’s happening inside that gym, and fighting back the urge to peek through the cracked door and figure out exactly what the fuck is going on. (Or, uh, who the fuck is getting it on.)
Fuck. Are they seriously… seriously fucking in the gym right now?
There’s the burning shame of having caught them. The absolute mortification of knowing that you’re sitting there listening to them have sex with reckless abandon. You should be uncomfortable, but instead, you catch yourself squeezing your thighs together.
A particularly loud moan catches you off guard, and you jerk your finger from your mouth—when had you started biting it to keep quiet?—and flee while you still have the chance.
(As far as anyone else is concerned, when you’re safe within the confines of your single-person dorm room, there’s no proof to say that you snaked a hand down your pants, still thinking of that brightly-lit gym, of the idea of having been caught listening to them, of being pulled inside and—
There’s no proof.)
~
The day-to-day doesn’t change. You don’t let it. The guys played their match, and they won, and it was great. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t smiling as they won, and your report for the sports column of the university paper was more than glowing. They’re a really fun team to watch, more so now that you know them—even if you’re now taking every effort in your head to not act like a total freak around them.
Honestly, you even think you're doing a pretty good job of it. You pretended not to notice the smell in the gym the morning after The Event—faint though it was, there was undeniably the hint of sex still in the air—you forced down any errant thoughts around them, and you didn't breathe so much as a word to anyone about it. What does it matter if they're having orgies or whatever the night before a game? What does it matter at all?
Luckily, you spend more time talking to the girls than anything—Shimizu and Yachi are becoming fast friends with you, you think out of an eagerness to have another girl around in a large group of guys. They're easier to talk to, too, since you don't recall hearing any particularly feminine moans during The Event. It's possible they have no idea. Possible that they, too, think things are normal. (Or else, they're the source of the orgy rumors, but neither seems much like the type.) They tell you innocuous little things about the team, like that time Hinata and Kageyama were so focused on their little rivalry that they ran clear to the next town before realizing they'd lost the rest of the team, and you get caught up in much-needed girl talk when you go out to eat together. Little debates on birth control, on dating, on whether or not that one psych professor can get it.
By the time the next game rolls around, you've nearly re-assimilated into the concept of a normal life. It’s really not a big deal, anyways—people have sex. It’s normal.
“Well, [name],” Daichi says towards the end of practice one day, about a week before. “You were only going to be here for a few weeks, right? How have you liked it?”
You nod, polite smile decorating your lips. “It’s been really enjoyable! It’s a bit sad that I won’t be around after the next game, honestly. You guys are really fun to be around.”
“Hmm?” Tsukishima says, an eyebrow raised your way. At some point, you seem to have captured the attention of everyone in the room, though you’re not quite sure what you did. You can sense their eyes on you though—a few of the more open guys stare, a few of the more polite ones glance out of the corners of their eyes. You’re stuck in the spotlight as Tsukishima takes a step towards you.
Why does one step suddenly feel so dangerous?
“You know, I’m sure no one here would stop you if you decided to stay.”
Yeah, your blood’s running cold. You get a firm grip on your brain in hopes of not horribly misinterpreting everything that’s going on, but—
“You confirmed the information you were looking for, right? Two weeks ago, hanging around outside the gym before the game.”
Ah.
Your face isn’t sure whether it wants to go pale or erupt in a furious blush. You, for your part, scramble for an answer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t? Are you that dense, or are you lying to us?”
A tiny squeak passes from your throat. “W-what’re you—“
“I was expecting something to show up in the school paper by now, but instead we just got a glowing column about how well we played the next day. Not a word of it. Why is that?”
“Oi, Tsukishima, aren’t you laying it on a bit thick?” one of the others says.
“It’s fine,” he replies, looking down at you as you look down at the floor. “Well, [name]? I’m waiting, Miss Reporter.”
The words burn a path down to your crotch, and you are absolutely not losing here, not now. You’ve just decided that. You meet his eye with a determined look. “I run the sports column, not the gossip column, Tsukishima. It hardly matters to me what you guys are getting up to—“
“You’re blushing, though. And you had to have heard before getting wrapped up in this, right? I’m comfortable speaking for everyone here when I say you can really find out the truth, if you want.”
“H-huh?”
He’s boxed you in, your back hitting the wall. Nowhere to run.
“What do you say? Wanna become an honorary member of the volleyball club?”
A sound sort of reminiscent of a boiling kettle leaves you, and you shove him away before you register it. “P-please give me time to think about it!”
A heavy silence.
“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s try not to scare the poor girl, yeah?” Suga says. He places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “If she wants to, she wants to, and if she doesn’t, she doesn’t. [name], if you wanna go for the day, you can.”
“I, um…”
He nods and guides you towards the door. Before you can properly escape, he leans in close: “if you do decide you want to, come see us after practice Friday night and we’ll initiate you. If not, we’ll respect that, okay?”
Initiate.
Friday night.
You swallow, throat feeling suddenly dry.
Just what have you gotten yourself into?
~
You spend the week caught between a rational panic and another emotion you are not willing to put a name to. Yachi had texted you not long after your escape that night, an apology and a really genuine “no one will be mad if you don’t show Friday”. That was relaxing, just slightly, except the little pang as you realized you actually did want to show. You’ve had a text back drafted to her the past three days, glaring back at you as you agonized over your phone screen:
No problem at all! I just had one question about what this “initiation” would entail. You know, to prepare myself!
You’re pretty sure you’ve deleted and re-drafted the exact same text about fifty times. Normally, you’d text a friend, ask them to help you review what you’re saying to make sure it sounds chill, but who the fuck are you going to tell about this? The implication was clear. Freaked out as you are, you’re not exactly interested in spreading the information, either.
Friday morning is when you actually do get the guts to send it, having spend the week pointedly avoiding everyone, volleyball-related or otherwise. The final draft:
Sorry for being a little AWOL! Had some thinking to do, lol. I just wanted to ask what I can expect if I did show up tonight? You know, so I’m prepared?
She’d responded immediately—not with a text, but with an email and a call, the call coming through less than a minute after you’d gotten a notification of an email from her.
Somehow, your morbid curiosity on what you should know before showing up, if you chose to, turns into an hour-long phone conversation turns into sitting down with an open notebook turns into you reviewing the document she’d emailed you, freshly showered while Yachi goes through your closet.
“You wanna wear something sexy, but kinda cheap. Sometimes they get a bit too excited. After the first time, you don’t really have to participate in this stuff, if you’re busy or just not up for it, but especially for this first time, don’t give them the opportunity to wreck any clothes you care about.”
You nod, make a note on your open notebook, thighs squeezing together impatiently. She emerges from your closet, a bright look on her face as she holds up a miniskirt you’d long since relegated to the very back. “This is a cute skirt! It’s a really strong candidate.”
“Do you think so?” you cringe. “Honestly, I’m worried it might be a bit… y’know, short.”
“[full name].” She gives you a flat look. “You do understand what’s happening tonight, right?”
“…right. I’ll wear the skirt.”
She brightens up in an instant. “Good! Now let me find a matching top…”
When she’s satisfied, your outfit laid out and you almost mentally prepared to actually get dressed for this sort of thing, you expect her to leave the room, but she simply waits.
“Uh, Yachi, I need to…”
“I just thought of something,” she says, face blank. “[name], have you ever been with a girl before?”
Ah.
Your cheeks feel hot. You’ve not exactly tried to hide that you’re bisexual—if nothing else, the bi pride flag on your wall would be indicator enough—but as far as actual experience with girls…
“I’ve… thought really hard about it…? I haven’t really had the opportunity.”
She nods to herself. “Right. Before you get ready, it’ll be easier if I do this now.”
Her lips are on yours before you can fully process it, soft and tasting faintly of pineapple chapstick. She kisses you long and slow, lets you relax into it. When she pulls away, she smiles shyly, like she didn’t just kiss you for the purposes of prepping you for an orgy she’ll be involved in later today. “There. Get that first out of the way before we have to make out in front of the volleyball team.”
She waves on her way out of your bedroom. “Get dressed! I wanna make sure that outfit works for today.”
Right. Get dressed.
Well, if nothing else, you’re definitely sure about being bisexual now.
~
If not for Yachi, you would have backed out a hundred times already. As it is, she keeps a gentle, reassuring hand on your back as the two of you enter the gym, a good few minutes after the usual practice officially ends. They’ve already finished cleaning up everything from the day, the air already seemingly charged even before the part where they notice you’ve actually shown up.
Yachi closes the door behind you with a sweet smile. “We got her!” she cheers by way of greeting.
The eyes that suddenly land on you—all fourteen pairs, including Yachi—seem heavier than usual. Hungry. You can’t help the nerves that threaten to make you tremble at the promise of what’s to come.
But there’s Yachi again, ever-sweet and cute as she wraps an arm around your side.
“Oh, I see that!” Daichi is the first to say. “Glad to see you’ve decided to join us, [name]. Here I thought we’d scared you off for good!”
You giggle nervously. “Well, I just… you know me! Always gotta over-think things.” That’s good. That’s casual. You’re managing an almost-even tone while you talk. Almost like you’re a normal, real human person.
“I know the feeling,” Asahi sighs.
Suga sets down a chair near the center of the gym, eyes watching you in silent interest.
“I’m guessing since you came with her that you’ve been coaching her, Yachi?”
She nods. “She’s had the whole rundown. Knows what to expect and everything.” She unwinds herself from you in preparation for whatever’s to come next. You try not to jump at the sound of the lock on the door clicking shut.
“Good. Good.” Daichi nods. “Come sit, [name]. No sense in putting it off, right?”
You nod slowly, timidly stepping forward. Yachi follows close behind.
“Limits?” Daichi asks firmly. “Loud enough so we all hear you.”
Another laugh from you, shaky with nerves as you perch on the chair Suga set out for you. You rattle them off, having memorized the list in order for this exact moment. Knowing you, you’d forget something otherwise, and you nearly do.
“Got it. And Yachi told you about the stoplight system?”
 “She didn’t really need to,” you admit, a bit quieter. “I’ve got it.”
“Good. Shimizu, Yachi, if you’d get her ready? Ladies first, and all.”
Wordlessly, they descend on you. You were expecting… you don’t know. Not the sudden press of lips, familiar from an hour or two prior, against your own, or Shimizu’s arms so quick to drape over your shoulders from behind. You press your lips back against Yachi’s insistently, perhaps a bit excited, perhaps just trying to get yourself into the right headspace before you think too hard about the twelve guys currently watching you be sandwiched between the girls or Shimizu’s delicate fingers unbuttoning your top.
Your head spins with it already—Shimizu’s perfume, Yachi’s chapstick. Shimizu’s hand pushing your hair out of the way, her lips attaching to your neck gently. “You didn’t mention anything about marks in your limits,” she mumbles against your skin as a little whine escapes you. “Can we take that to mean it’s okay to mark you, or should I be careful?”
Yachi pulls away a bit, and you chase her lips. She pushes you back with a giggle. “She asked you a question.”
“Oh. Right.” You blink owlishly as you play back the question in your head. “Uh, yeah. I mean—it’s—it’s fine.”
“Are you sure? A few of the guys are not going to let up if they know that.”
Despite the exhibitionist dream going on right now, you don’t quite have the strength to admit that you quite enjoy the marks, actually, so instead: “I’m sure.”
“Alright.” Then, both pairs of lips are back—suckling your neck, kissing you until you’re out of breath. There’s no hurry, none at all, and you barely notice when your top is discarded completely, barely even notice the chatter of the guys bickering—when you strain, you just barely figure out that they’re deciding something about who gets a turn with you when.
You try not to shudder too hard at the thought.
Yachi slides a hand up to your bra and underneath it, rolls a nipple between her fingers. Shimizu follows up, finds your wrist and guides your hand beneath Yachi’s waistband to palm at her heat. “Have you ever…?”
You part from Yachi again, shake your head, eyes half-lidded and head swimming as you look up into the gym lights. “Hadn’t gotten the chance before—before today,” you admit.
She huffs a gentle laugh in your ear. “I’ll teach you, then.”
Her hand slides up your thigh, up your skirt. Yachi crawls into your lap, arms around your neck for stability as Shimizu’s fingers find your cunt, already wet. “It’s not that different from taking care of yourself,” she murmurs as two delicate fingers, too pretty to be where they are right now, stroke your slit. “Follow my lead, okay?”
You nod, whining when her fingers find your clit.
She teaches you in gentle, fluttery strokes. You lose track of it all quickly—your fingers buried in Yachi, thumb dancing over her clit as she leans over your shoulder to kiss Shimizu. You find it’s not that hard to adjust, and with every breathy gasp you draw from Yachi, you’re well rewarded by the slender fingers pumping into your cunt.
Needy and slipping into the mythical subspace you’ve only had the pleasure of reading about, you lean forward to plant your lips on Yachi’s neck. “No marks,” she sighs to you. You whine and move on, not letting yourself linger long enough to mark her skin. Seeming pleased with your listening, Shimizu slides a third finger inside you, stretches you out carefully.
“You’ll thank me later.”
She works you up so easily. Is it because you’re pressed between two pretty girls? Is it the ravenous eyes raking over this scene? Or—
Her hand retreats too soon, just as your hips had begun to really move with the friction, and you whine.
“I promise you’ll get there. Just hold on for now, okay?”
You nod, pouting at having been edged, and focus on the way Yachi writhes on your lap.
She’s close, too, you realize.
“So pretty,” you whisper in awe at the look on her face: eyes closed, head tilted back, lips parted just slightly. “You’re so pretty.”
Ah. Clearly she likes the praise, because she flutters around you. You work her more urgently, the wet squelches from your fingers buried in her joining the hushed moans and sighs of the team watching. When she cums, it’s a soft, quiet moan that you could honestly get used to hearing. Her walls flutter ceaselessly around your fingers as she leans down and kisses you again, and you’re sure not to stop until she slumps a little, though, truth be told, your wrist is already sore.
When she climbs off your lap, legs a bit shaky and a sweet, dopey smile on her face, she backs away, exiting the fray entirely. You nod in understanding. The goal, as she’d made very clear, is to make everyone cum at least once, and she’s gotten her fill. Shimizu takes your chin in her hand, tilts your face so she can kiss you, too. After a moment, you pull back. “Um—can I… my wrist… I don’t think I can…”
God, you’re already stupid. By the time you’ve gotten to everyone, you’re gonna be completely brainless, aren’t you?
She nods, helps you out of the chair only to sit you on your knees in front of her, having taken her place. She’s sweet and perfect on your tongue when you eat her out, paying careful, deliberate attention to her clit, and she instructs you in a low tone as she pets your head. It’s a blessing to be between her thighs, a blessing for her to be the first girl you’ve ever eaten out, a blessing to be allowed to draw a quiet moan from her when at last she cums on your tongue.
“Good,” she murmurs to you with a smile when you pull away, cheeks and chin wet with her slick. “I think you’re ready for us to pass you off. Will you be good for them, too?”
You nod, smiling dreamily. She looks over your shoulder and nods before standing and straightening herself out.
Three of your loyal watchers step forward. Seems like the seniors get you next.
~
You sit nervously, wait for… orders? Guidance? Anything?
You feel like you’re being circled by sharks, honestly. One of said sharks laughs, angelic, and you yelp when Suga’s hands come to rest on your waist. When had he joined you on the floor?
“You’re already tense again. Come on, relax a bit, [name].” His thumbs rub soothing circles into your hips. “See, Asahi’s gonna get nervous, too, if you act like that.”
Daichi pushes Asahi forward, a stern look on his face. Suga pushes you forward, too, until you’re nose to Asahi’s crotch and the prominent bulge in his shorts. “Go on. You took such good care of the girls, and it’s our turn now. Go ahead and open for him.”
You let your mouth hang open. You can be obedient. You can be good.
The bulge in Asahi’s shorts jumps a little as he looks down at you. You’re already deep in this, might as well go all-in—you paw at the waistband of his shorts, waiting for his nod of approval. When you receive it, you grab the shorts and his boxers and pull them down in one swift motion, swallowing thickly when you see the size of the thing.
If all the guys on the volleyball team are this hung, you’re going to be very, very sore in the morning.
You close your eyes, lean in. If you just keep your eyes closed, you don’t have to think about the guys watching you with varying levels of interest, don’t have to think about performing. You stroke him at the base, take as much of his cock into your mouth as you can handle. He lets out a soft groan as you begin to bob your head, and again you feel those hands on your hips. You let Suga do whatever it is he’s planning on, which is how you find your legs being spread a bit, your hips lifted just slightly only for someone—Suga, presumably—to slide his head between your thighs.
There’s a huff of a laugh against your pussy, and you try your best to keep up with sucking off Asahi as you’re yanked downwards to rest on his face. Asahi’s hot on your tongue, and Suga’s tongue is hot on you when he finally lathes his tongue over your sex. Your moan comes out muffled, cutting off into a squeak, almost a gag, when Asahi’s hips buck in response.
A murmured apology, a ruffle of your hair. The gentle affection has your heart and your walls fluttering against your will—Suga pulls away to laugh at you. “She liked whatever you just did, Asahi. Just so you know.”
You whine, roll your hips down in hopes of keeping him from saying anything else incriminating. He punishes you with a harsh suck of your clit, and the three of you fall into a nice rhythm—you taking Asahi’s cock as far into your mouth as you can handle, Suga fucking you on his tongue.
“S-so pretty,” Asahi murmurs when you dare a glance up at his face. He’s been watching you work him intently, sighs and groans filling your ears to let you know you’re doing well. You clench around Suga’s tongue at the praise, go back to work as you dip your head deep. When Asahi cums, he’s low and loud, and you greedily drink up the cum that hits the back of your throat. You’re not far behind, thanks to Suga, writhing on top of him as he forces you to stay seated on his face.
Asahi backs away. Suga slides out from underneath you, moves around to your front to kiss you softly. You shudder at the taste of yourself on his lips, shiver when his tongue slips into your mouth. Against your lips, he mumbles: “you could probably use a little rest already. You’re being really good, you know?”
Daichi chuckles darkly. “Oh, come on. She’ll never be done if we keep letting her rest.”
That’s the only warning you get before your skirt is tugged off. You’re left in nothing but a bra as Daichi begins to slide his fingers between your lips. “You’re doing great. Yachi said you were on birth control—I can assure you everyone here is clean, and she also said you’re okay with no condoms, but I want everyone to hear you say it, if that’s true.”
You whimper. You’re too sensitive for this right now, still shaking from your first orgasm of the night, but his fingers won’t stop moving.
“Well? Yes or no? Don’t make me ask you a third time.”
You gasp—his middle finger dips into your hole, just enough to make your hips buck. “P-please, I—I can—no condoms, please,” you nearly sob, hoping in vain that your bowing to his request will get you some respite.
“You’re so mean, Daichi,” Suga tuts.
You let out a sigh of relief when his fingers leave you, but then you’re being bent over and something hot and thick is sliding through your heat.
“S-sensitive,” you whine out.
“I know,” he replies, and then he’s pressing his way inside you, stretching you out, and you’re letting out a loud keen into the gym. He sits inside you a moment, gives you just long enough to adjust to the stretch before he’s moving. “You really worried us, you know. Do you think it’s polite to disappear without a word all week, [name]?”
“N-no, I’m sorry—“
A single harsh thrust. You cry out. Suga, ever-helpful, kneels down in front of you to give you his lap to rest on. Ever-obedient, you reach out and begin to palm the bulge in his shorts. He takes the chance to unclasp your bra as Daichi sets a slow, almost conversational pace.
You pull Suga out of his shorts, rest your head on his thigh. Focus on jerking him off as Daichi’s pace picks up from slow to harsh. “It’s nice of you to apologize. Don’t do it again.”
“I-I won’t—ah—“
The slow, lazy kisses you’ve taken to pressing against Suga’s cock—pretty and long—don’t mesh well with the bruising grip on your hips, the sharp snap of the captain’s cock in your pussy as he fucks you out. You cling desperately to Suga, jerk him off with no real rhythm as you struggle to take the abuse to your still-sensitive cunt.
By the time Suga’s cum shoots in ropes across your cheek, you’re close again, and Daichi isn’t letting up. “You want it inside, pretty girl?”
“Please,” you whine.
“Good girl,” he croons, and that sends you over the edge a second time, too fast—the fluttering of your walls drags him over with you. Suga takes the chance to stroke your hair almost lovingly as you’re filled up with hot cum, and you whimper as Daichi pulls out of you.
Five down. Nine to go.
You think they might kill you before the night’s over.
~
They really don’t let you rest—before you even process the retreat of the seniors, three more have stepped forward, and from the corner of your eye you notice the seniors holding back two guys in particular.
(“Dude, it’s our turn—“
“She can’t handle five at once. We already decided before this that you two get to go after them.”)
Ennoshita’s cock hangs heavy in front of you, and with a whimper, you drag yourself to sit up and take it in your mouth. He laughs softly. “You got used to this quickly. Look at you, you’re a mess.”
You’re not really willing to reply to that. You’re so far past embarrassment—if he’s trying to embarrass you, all you’re getting is a surge of heat low in your stomach all over again, as though your body could possibly handle any more right now.
There’s a nudge at your side, someone’s hand sliding up your arm and bringing you to take another cock in one of your free hands. A glance—Kinoshita is on one side of you, Narita on the other, and you are more than happy to take care of them, lack of coordination be damned.
“Take your time,” Narita says in a low voice. “I get this weird feeling the other two are not going to be very gentle with you when they get a turn.”
You shudder, moan around Ennoshita’s cock at the thought. His hips roll into your mouth, and you shoot him a pleading look. You weren’t particularly trying to send him any hints, but he takes some sort of hint anyway—his hand tangles in your hair, really expertly, actually, and he takes just a little bit of the load off you as he begins to fuck your throat, slow and easy, so you don’t have to keep track of getting off three at once. You relax your jaw, let him work, almost enjoy yourself as you twist your wrists around Kinoshita and Narita’s cocks.
Ennoshita is careful with you. Forceful, sure, but careful. You could gag on him—easily, if that was what he wanted—but he never makes you take him too deeply, simply enjoys the feeling of your mouth, your tongue, the way you’re completely lost in your little initiation. As his pace begins to stutter, you try to bob your head with him, unpermitted by his grip in your hair. You’re fully under now, head caught in a delicious space you’ve never quite experienced. Floating, really.
He pulls you off him firmly. “Color?”
You let out a little half-whine, looking up at him with lidded eyes and a quizzical head tilt as you try to remember what the fuck he’s asking you through the fuzz.
“Mm?”
“Damn, she’s totally lost.”
“Think she’ll be okay? Should we—“
A little panic surges in you, and you jolt forward as you finally process what he’s looking for. “G-green! Green. I’m green.”
He nods. “You’re sure?”
“Mm. Floaty. But green.”
“Good. That’s a good girl. You’re gonna keep being good?”
You reply with a whine, a tug forward in hopes of giving him the message to put his cock back in your mouth right now.
He gets the message.
The two in your hands tumble over the edge first, and you moan as you feel them paint you with their cum. You might like being taken advantage of like this. Ennoshita isn’t too far behind. He spills into your mouth with a groan, untangling fingers from your hair and smoothing it down gently. Before he backs away to let the next guys have their way with you, he leans down, keeps an affectionate hand on top of your head. “Good luck.”
“Mm?”
He backs away without explanation, and before you fully process it, you’re being pushed into a new position on your hands and knees. “Finally,” Noya groans from behind you, hands groping your ass almost reverently. “You’re being so good, it was so hard not to come take you while the others were busy with you.”
A whine. You’re more or less losing your ability to speak, between the soreness building in your jaw and the cotton in your head. Something bumps against your pussy, and you flinch with a whimper.
Tanaka is in front of you, watching your face carefully as Noya’s hands roam your body from behind. “Still good, [name]?”
You nod.
“Good,” he says, and then there’s yet another cock in your mouth. You’re starting to lose count. But, hey, Tanaka’s dick is an effective gag to keep you from getting too loud when Noya slides into you with an obscene squelch.
“There you are,” he groans, grip bruising-tight on your hips. “Fuck, you’re tight.”
Tight and sensitive. Noya isn’t particularly thick, but at this angle he’s already pressing against a spot soft and delicious in your cunt. Fuck, he hasn’t even moved yet and you already feel dangerously close.
You rock your hips back against him, desperate even as you take Tanaka’s cock as deep into your mouth as you can manage. You get barely any movement before Noya takes the hint, and then one hand is holding you steady as he snaps his hips, sharp and hard, into you. The other sneaks around, finds your clit with ease and begins to frantically torture it. You cum hard and fast around him, and he lets his head drop backward with a groan, not stopping even as you struggle to hold yourself up and take it.
It’s all so much. So much. So much—
You barely manage to bring a hand up to finish Tanaka in your mouth, desperate to have just one less thing drowning you, and lucky for you, it works—he grits out praises as he spills into your mouth, strokes your hair as you swallow as much of his cum as you can handle.
With your mouth free, Nishinoya pauses just long enough to pull out and flip you onto your back. “Your knees are starting to hurt, right?” he coos, cock throbbing against your entrance again. “But you’re doing so well.”
You whimper. It’s all you still know how to do. He takes in your body, chest heaving and tits shaking from exertion, and slides a hand up your side, pausing to tweak a nipple. Your back arches. “God, you’re perfect. Are your tits always this sensitive, or do you just like being watched?”
“Al-ways,” you moan out, voice broken. His eyes are ravenous as he takes you in, like he doesn’t know where to look.
“Oi, Noya, you’re not the last one that gets her today. Go ahead and fuck her already.”
He doesn’t need telling twice. His arms are shaking as he pins you down by the wrists, shaking as he plunges into you all over again.
Noya is brutal. Dimly, you have the thought that you understand why they held him back as long as possible, though you think it might have made things worse. He leans down, lips against your neck, and groans when you immediately clench around him. “Your neck, too?” he hisses out.
You nod, barely able to catch your breath or un-fuzz your head long enough to talk.
“Fuck,” he breathes, taking the time to suck a few marks into your throat.
“Please,” you whine in reply. That’s all it takes for him to sink his teeth into a soft spot on your neck, and then you’re cumming again with an actual sob as he cums inside you, the second time someone’s cum inside tonight.
Nine… ten? Down. You can’t count anymore. He pulls out of you, lathes his tongue over where he’d bitten you, leaves you laying there to catch your breath.
~
“Need a break?”
You shake your head, not even bothering to check who’s asking you.
A laugh. “You sure? You look a little dead.”
One eye opened lazily. Yamaguchi. “Can take it,” you slur out. You’re utterly boneless. Exhausted, really. But you’ve got… a number more to get through, and fuck it, you’re in way too deep to give up now, and Yamaguchi’s looking kind of delicious, and—
Next thing you know, you’re slumped between him and Tsukki, one in your ass, the other in your cunt, you openly sobbing as Tsukki hisses condescension in your ear, fingers in your mouth to keep it open while they split you in half—
(“How is she even alive right now? I don’t think any of us made it through the whole thing without a real break.”
“We’re keeping her. We have got to keep her.”)
Next thing you know, you’re jerking Kageyama off onto your face, tongue lolling out to catch every drop of cum you can—
(“Genuinely impressive. Are we sure she’s never done this before?”
“Dude, I’m serious, what do we have to do to get her to come every time?”)
Next thing you know, Hinata is thrusting into you at blinding speeds, and you’re cumming again, moans more like broken sobs—
(“I mean, she keeps saying she’s good, and she’s almost through…”
“She’s just having a good time. Probably been dreaming about something like this since before she showed up for her ‘article’.”)
There’s a few expectant looks as you lay there at last, thoroughly fucked out, unable to even think about moving as the TV static in your brain begins to finally fade out.
Holy fuck.
Are you done? That was the last of them, right? You’re done, aren’t you?
“Now, now, [name],” Tsukishima says, and his tone has you whining. That was everyone. You’re done.
“The rule was that you have to make everyone cum before you’re done,” he explains, like you’re five or something.
“D-didn’t… didn’t I…?”
A few slow shakes of the head from a few guys.
“You’re here, too.”
Your blood runs cold.
“Noo,” you whine. “Can’t.”
“You can’t?” Tsukki crouches down beside you. “You’ve made fourteen people cum tonight, and you’re giving up now? What happened to the slut we’ve been watching all night?”
“Can’ttt,” you repeat, new tears already forming. How many times have you cum already?
He sighs. “You’re really not serious about this, are you?”
“No, I am, I-I—“
“Then you can make yourself cum one last time for us to see.”
You whimper, limply bring a hand to rest between your legs. Should’ve brought a damn vibrator.
You work yourself up as fast as you can handle, cup one breast in your off hand to roll your nipple between your fingers. Slide two fingers in and shudder when you find the mix of cum there.
(“It’s just mean making her do it herself after all that.”
“If she can actually cum again after all that, I don’t even know what to say.”)
Technically, you could probably get away with faking it. …probably. But, well…
The little competitive bitch in you wants to prove them wrong, and, hell, you’ve already put on a show for everyone here, right? So you get into it, best you can. Roll your hips weakly against your hand, sigh and whimper at just how much this all is. Rub your clit as fast as your wrist can still handle, actually fucking thrash as you fall over the edge one last time.
~
You blacked out.
That, at least, you can figure out. You’re being held against one of any number of potential muscular bodies, cradled, really. Like you’ll break or something.
“How long do you think she has to be out before we call someone?”
“Don’t,” you groan. “’M alive. Barely.”
Fucking hell, your throat is dry. You open one eye to peek at Suga, who’s already got a water bottle ready for you. It’s Asahi holding you, and he shifts to let you tilt your head back as Suga tips the water bottle into your mouth.
Someone is wiping the worst of the cum off you with a damp rag. You squirm, whine as they clean you up. Drink like you’ve spent the past six months in the desert.
“How’re you feeling?” Yachi asks sweetly. Ah. She’s the one cleaning you up.
“Gooood,” you slur out. “Tired. Sore. Don’t wanna be a good girl for the next twennyfour hours at least.”
She laughs. “You know you could have taken a break, right? You didn’t have to get everyone off in one go.”
You simply groan. In the background, a few of the previously unaccounted-for guys are cleaning up the mess where you’d been laid out on the floor. Someone taps something against your lips. You accept it, mostly out of laziness. Sweet. Crunchy. Chocolate-covered pretzel. You wonder if you can get them to move your jaw for you.
“Do you still want to come back after this, [name]?” Shimizu asks.
You nod. Accept another pretzel. Snuggle into Asahi’s arms. You think they picked him for cuddle duty because he’s got good arms. “’Sgood. ‘Mgood.”
She laughs slightly. Drapes something over your naked body.
A black jacket, reading Karasuno Volleyball Team.
“Welcome to the team, then,” she says, tilting her head with an ethereal smile. You blink blearily. Smile back.
You cannot fucking wait for their next match.
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c0ld0utside · 14 hours
Note
Beach Centaur father adopts a siren kid that is super timid?
Siren kid (timid) Centaur dad
Warnings: (Let me know if I’ve missed any): Mentions/descriptions of violence, poorly written timid reader, manipulation
Criticism + advice is welcome, here we go
At first, Jordan didn’t care much for humans. As far as he knew all they did was whine, take, and fight over the smallest things. Not to mention, their other behaviors were… interesting. So, like most other species that the humans deemed “monsters,” he ignored them. He focused on his own life in his home in the woods, tending to his pond and garden and admiring his collection of fish. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. 
This, however, was something he couldn’t ignore. 
It’s true that voices carry. The news that some human sailors had killed a pod of merfolk spread like wildfire through Jordan's coastal town. A few weeks later, a small pod of merfolk washed up on the shore, their tails sloppily lopped off. Everyone was in an uproar. The outrage was understandable; most species had been allied with sirens for centuries. Their songs and stories were loved by all.
Jordan’s dislike for humans grew with every new report. Being humans, they got curious and wanted to explore. Instead of asking for help like any other sane person, however, they settled on harming those who would be happy to lend a hand. 
So when he found you washed up on the rocky part of the shore, covered in cuts and a large, nasty gash, he was more than happy to help. Jordan swaddled you in wet towels and hurried home with you in his arms. He clutched you close to his chest the entire time, and you may or may not have heard him muttering prayers to the Gods under his breath. Originally, he had planned on fishing and collecting trinkets to sell, but you were far better. You were precious. A helpless, innocent little thing. How could anyone want to harm you?
[...]
The trip back didn’t take long. It turns out the stranger lives up on the cliffs. It’s different from observing them below, somewhat hidden by the fog. Seeing that first thing in the morning always filled you with a sense of something that you couldn’t explain. Trees and greenery tinted by the mist…beautiful yet ominous. Up here, however, the trees are thinner than they seem, covered in moss and fungi. Trails are constantly battling with plants growing back over them, too.
“We’re almost there, little one,” the centaur said. “May I call you that, by the way? ‘Little one’? I hope you don’t mind.” You respond by curling up further into yourself, trying to hide. The stranger responds to that by rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder. 
When you arrive, he nudges you carefully. “Look,” the stranger says. “Isn’t it pretty?” You look up, and he’s right. It’s beautiful. A cozy wooden house with a large decorated pond surrounded by odd thin trees, wildflowers, and shrubbery everywhere. If you squint past the fog, you can see the ocean down below. Home, your heart aches. 
The centaur gently lowered you into a closed-off part of his pond- an area he had for whenever his fish got injured somehow. “Wait here,” he said quietly, rushing into his home and returning a few moments later with a jug of…something. He slowly poured some of it into the pond, the liquid smelling absolutely wild. “I don’t know much about sirens or merfolk, so I figured the medicine I use when my fish get hurt might help.” The centaur explained sheepishly. “Are you comfortable? What do you want to eat? Have you had strawberries before?”
He couldn’t stop bombarding you with questions like a fussy mom when her kid is sick. “No,” you answered, voice weak. Sure, this centaur was helping you, but you had no idea who he was, where you were, or if he would hurt you. Was he luring you into a false sense of security like those humans had? It all happened so quickly. You and your family had been lounging in the shallow waters and basking in the sun. Your mother was humming a tune when a boat approached. Some humans called your parents over and the next thing you knew there were harpoons and nets and screams and cries.
The stranger must’ve noticed you sinking into your mind because he (to the best of his ability) knelt down at the edge of the pond. “Hey, you’re okay here, I promise. I just want to take care of you.” The stranger says, keeping his tone as comforting as possible. He frowns when you slip underwater, peeking out a few moments later. “Okay, let me try this,” the centaur mutters under his breath. “My name is Jordan, and I’m going to help you get better. I swear on my heart.” He introduces, making a cross-my-heart motion. “Now, I’m going to go get you some strawberries. Let’s see if you like them, yeah?” Jordan announces, getting up and trotting away.
[...]
Jordan doesn’t quite get it. He’s trying his best. He keeps his voice soft, he talks to you, and he tells you interesting things, like the weird scent you smell when he pours the medicine into the water is tea tree oil.And that the hammering noise you heard is a bird called a woodpecker. Oh- and that pretty fish swimming around you is called a koi fish. And aren’t those strawberries sweet?
Yet it’s always the same. You barely answer, only shaking your head or nodding. You hide underwater most of the time, hanging out with the fish and poking at the underwater plants. If his voice is anything but soft you freak out and disappear into the pond, back to the safety of rocks and pebbles and weird-looking fish and plants. 
That’s not the only problem. The news of human attacks on sirens and merfolk is getting worse. Apparently, humans are treating them as they would seafood. As if that couldn’t get any worse, reports of kidnappings turned into busted “fish farms” after clans raided human settlements in search of the missing sea creatures. 
Jordan can’t possibly take you back to the ocean now. It’s too dangerous, and he’s getting attached. You’re not some prized fish, oh no. You’re a treasure that he has to protect. So when you finally muster up the courage and ask him to take you home in that nervous, tiny voice of yours, he’s quick to say no. 
He knows you won’t understand right away, so he tells you things he’s heard through the grapevine from his time in town. 
“I went to sell some of the vegetables from my garden today, and saw a poster saying that a pod of mermaids has been taken by humans.”
“I went to buy these shells to remind you of home. …I also heard that a group of humans killed some more sirens today.”
“That market is full of depressing news nowadays. A group of werewolves found that missing pod. I don’t know how they’re ever going to recover, kept in those cramped tanks. Poor things.” 
“You don’t need to worry about that happening to you as long as you stay here with me. You’re safe up here!”
“Humans have no reason to come up here. And if they do, I’ll take care of them. Promise.”
Slowly but surely, it works. You stop asking to go home. You start talking to him. It isn’t much at first, but Jordan’s smile grows every time you give him more than just a few words. He’s also made a whole new pond just for you, decorating it with shells and sea glass and other ocean-y things he got from the market. Jordan only goes down there to sell his crops and decorative plants, along with seeds in case anyone wants to try making their own garden. The rest of his time is devoted to tending to his garden and spending time with you. 
Like a good, proper guardian. 
-
I'm finally free for the summer, expect a lot of things. To the people who did not read the pinned post; requests are closed for now. Will admit that like my Miguel O'hara one, this wasn't my favorite mostly because I think it's bland and I don't know how to write timid/shy characters just yet. At least I gave it a go.
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I have a small question where I would like to hear your opinion on. My MC died in her original world and was reborn into a new one. So she died at 27 and started back again at 2 years old from the body she took over. She is mentally at the original age. So my hiccup is that the story take place when she is 25 in the new world and I'm having a bit of a hard time figuring out how to have her carry herself. Theoretically, she is mentally in her 50's but 25 physically. How should I go on to write her personality? I don't want to say I want her to "act old", but what are some things that might be different between a 25 year old and a 50 year old and how could I best make her more mature? Should I make her more immature in the beginning (pre-death) So that change could be put in place?
Character is Mentally Older Due to Reincarnation
Here's the problem... there are two things needed in order for someone to mature: physical development and emotional development through experience. If your character died at 27, not only is that about the time that brains stop physically developing anyway, she also does not go through any further emotional development through experience.
Even if she is "mentally 27" when she is transported to the body of the two-year old, and even if we say her mental age somehow overrides the physical capabilities of a two-year-old brain, the kinds of experiences she's having over the 23 years in her second body aren't the kinds of experiences that are going to add significantly to her emotional experience. These are all things she has already experienced and learned in her first life. As a 2 to 25-year-old, she's not gaining a lot of experience in things like career, marriage, parenting, layoffs, career changes, divorce, single parenting, dating after divorce, caring for aging parents, etc. Instead, she's experiencing some of the things (again) that are natural for 2 to 25-year-olds to experience, like going to school, making friends, trying to get good grades, social drama, first kiss, first love, learning to drive, first job, graduation, going to college, first-time independence, getting to vote, serious relationships and serious break-ups, perhaps even getting married and having a kid or two, though not getting very far into that.
So, my point is, your character has to live the life of a 25 to 50-year-old in order to gain the experience and maturity of a 25 to 50-year-old brain.
BUT... having said that, I am speaking to you as a person who has lived the life of a 25 to 50-year-old, and I don't feel mentally different from who I was when I was 25. Maybe a little, but not significantly. I have certainly experienced a lot of things during those 25 years, but I still like a lot of the same things, still do a lot of the same things, still think and feel a lot of the same things. I still wear clothes (sweaters, jackets, and coats, mostly) I wore when I was 25. I still watch a lot of the same TV shows and movies, and like a lot of the same music. But also... I'm sitting over here singing to songs that are popular on the radio, watching TV shows that are popular with the 15 to 30 crowd, and comfortably conversing with family members who are in their teens and 20s.
So, a part of it, too, is that once you get past a certain age (mid-20s, really, when the brain stops developing), there's not always this catastrophic difference between who a person is at 25 and who they are at 50 or 70. I mean, there can be... there are definitely those adults who turn into weird adulty robots who feel like they can only drink wine, eat salmon, play golf, and throw wine and cheese parties, but not everyone is like that. Most people aren't. You'll get into your fifties and laugh that you thought you'd be so significantly different from 25-year-old you. :)
Another issue to consider is this: if your character is a 27-year-old trapped in a 2-year-old's body, does that make her like Stewie Griffin, except that's the way she actually sounds to everyone around her. Do you have a two-year-old sitting in the baby seat in the shopping cart at Target, looking at her "new" mother and literally saying out loud, "Oh, Diane... please tell me you're not thinking about buying that. You know how gluten wrecks your stomach. Put it back and get the gluten free one, would you?" Or, do you have a 27-year-old woman who has to pretend to be a two-year-old, and has to sit there making baby talk and saying things like, "Ma-ma... can get cookie? Pwweeeease?" It's really awkward, to be honest, and I can't imagine how mentally taxing, frustrating, and demeaning it would be for your character.
So... what to do? There are two options that I can see, but keep an eye on the reblogs in case anyone else has a suggestion:
1 - Compartmentalize her adult consciousness from her two-year-old consciousness until she's maybe ten or twelve. So, almost like she's a prisoner inside the body of a child, but she doesn't know what it's thinking and can't control what it says or does. Like they're two independent beings and she's just along for the ride, silently commentating and even trying to get through to the kid to little or no avail. Maybe sometimes, if she mentally screams loud enough, she pops into the child's consciousness as a subconscious thought. Then, for whatever reason, as the child ages, her voice gets through more and more, and she gains control of what the child says and does little by little, until finally she has fully become the child when it's maybe 12 or 15 or whatever age you think makes sense. So, that might look something like this:
Childhood: I'm dressed in my--rather, Bella's--favorite Bluey shirt and a pair of shorts. The birthday party is at an indoor play area called Bounce, and I can almost feel Bella's excitement as she drops her gift off at the table and runs to join the other kids on a giant trampoline. They didn't really have places like this when I was a kid--the first time, I mean. My next door neighbors--the Andersons--they had a trampoline in their backyard, the kind with the net cage around it, but my parents wouldn't let me jump on it except during neighborhood parties when there were lots of parents watching. At least I... Bella... will sleep well tonight.
Teens: "Hey, Bella!" Maxine said as I joined her at the lockers. "Are you going to Brant's party tomorrow night?" Ugh, Brant's party. I had forgotten about that. What an absolute turd. He reminds me too much of this guy Jared I dated briefly in college, in my first life. I'm obviously not going to tell Maxine that. "Nah," I say at last. "I don't like that guy enough to go to his party." "Why don't you like him? I think he's cool!" "Oh, he just reminds me of someone I used to know. Wanna head to lunch?"
2 - Give the adult consciousness a bit of amnesia and have her start to remember things over time. In this sense, there would still be some compartmentalization early on as far as being a separate consciousness from the child's, but in this sense she would be less like an adult imprisoned in a child's body, along for the ride and commenting from the peanut gallery, and more like a faint awareness that is more distant, but becomes more aware and close as time goes on. That might look something like this:
Child: Bella is wears her favorite Bluey shirt to the birthday party. She is such a happy, friendly child. The other kids welcome her with smiles and open arms as she joins them on the trampoline. I wonder if I went to parties like this in my first life?
Teen: Bella's friend--my friend--Maxine greets me as I join her by the lockers. "Are you going to Brant's party tonight?" My stomach sours at the thought of that guy, though I don't know why. Perhaps I knew someone like him in my past life. The name Jared suddenly pops into my head, and I briefly wonder what this guy did to past life me that I carried dislike for him into my second life. Not wanting to get into all that, I make an excuse about having to help my mom wallpaper the guest room. "See you on Sunday, though, so we can study for the test?" "Yeah, see you then," Maxine says, closing her locker. She smiles, but I can tell she's a little salty. She knows social gatherings exhaust me, though. Sometimes I wish I could tell her why--that I've been through all of this before, not even that long ago. But she wouldn't understand.
So, in either case, you're not really worrying too much about the nuances of maturity, but rather a general "adult" perspective as it relates to this child whose body it's inhabiting.
Anyway, I hope that helps!
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buckttommy · 13 hours
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honestly the vibes of your post about Tommy's active racism during Gerrard's era were weird. he very much did actively participate -- he says something along the lines of "did we forget to tip the delivery guy" when chimney first shows up to the firehouse, he says that hen has 'New York bitchiness' when she and chimney are bonding, to name a few things -- and being closeted does not excuse racism or give it a nuanced 'purpose'. it's such a tired and played out trope that 'oh the white person was lashing out because they were scared of their queerness coming to light' and I think as a community we deserve better. you treating this conventionally attractive white queer man as some kind of amazing representation makes it seem like being queer is only radical for white ppl bc Black ppl are already a member of the dirty underclass so it doesn't change their social standing at all. that's not even to mention that josh has been a white queer character connected to the mains since season 2 - I feel like this does such a disservice to the amazing queer characters that we have had so far and it just rubs me the wrong way.
"Vibes were weird" is not a valid criticism.
"he very much did actively participate" - You're right! I was wrong. He did.
"being closeted does not excuse racism or give it a nuanced 'purpose'." - You misunderstood what I said. Tommy's queerness does, indeed, give his behavior purpose, but you're interpreting the wrong use of the word "purpose" here. So we're all on the same page, purpose is defined as "the reason for which something is done." Now, the full quote of what I said was: "his complicity would be absolutely shitty and inexcusable if he was just a cishet white man. no questions asked. but if — if — you view his behavior through the lens of the fact that tommy is queer himself? that tommy is, and always has been, a member of a marginalized community who felt it was easier and safer to assimilate than it was to be openly queer and have a target on his back? his behavior becomes a whole hell of a lot more understandable. yes, it’s still shitty, but. there’s a purpose behind it." So I'm very clearly saying that, "hey, Tommy did a shitty thing, but coming from his perspective, I can understand why he did it." Note: Condoning and Understanding are completely different things.
"it's such a tired and played out trope that 'oh the white person was lashing out because they were scared of their queerness coming to light'" - I have no idea which shows, movies, or books you're interacting with in which this is a storyline you see play out with enough frequency that you've grown tired of it, but please share those titles with me. I'd like to compare them to the current story playing out on screen. Thanks!
"it's such a tired and played out trope that 'oh the white person was lashing out because they were scared of their queerness coming to light'" - I don't actually write the show, so this frustration of yours is irrelevant to me. Noted, but irrelevant all the same.
"and I think as a community we deserve better." I agree that we deserve amazing stories. I neither agree nor disagree as to whether this story is amazing or not, because I haven't analyzed it from that perspective, but I look forward to seeing what kind of stories you create and release into the world to counteract what you think is an oversaturation of dissatisfying queer media. /srs /gen
"you treating this conventionally attractive white queer man as some kind of amazing representation" - I happen to think all representation is amazing because there are a lot of people in power who want to kill us. Whether or not Tommy is good or bad representation seems pretty low on the list of things that are actually a threat to Queer existence, especially when Project 2025 exists. And that's just a threat facing Queer people in the States alone. Other crises face our Queer siblings in other parts of the world, and none of them will be solved by Tommy Kinard or 911, whether he's perfect representation or not.
"bc Black ppl are already a member of the dirty underclass so it doesn't change their social standing at all." - Not a fan of your wording here. Mainly because this statement does not seem necessary to the current conversation. You could have said: treating this conventionally attractive white queer man as some kind of amazing representation makes it seem like being queer is only radical for white ppl and that would have been sufficient, but you didn't. Reconsider why you used those words here.
"josh has been a white queer character connected to the mains since season 2" - Josh isn't connected to the mains, he's connect to Maddie, and she already has a husband. And also Josh is gay, so she wouldn't be an option for him anyway. Outside of Dispatch, there really is no room to play with his character. So this point is irrelevant. (But if you are one of the few Buck/Josh shippers in this fandom and are mad they didn't get together, I can't say I blame you. I would be mad too).
"I feel like this does such a disservice to the amazing queer characters that we have had so far and it just rubs me the wrong way." - This is a very valid opinion, but as I already stated, nothing about the writing of this show has anything to do with me. So your opinion has been noted and discarded.
Hope that clears everything up.
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