#so last night i couldn't sleep so i started going through my LONG marked for later list on ao3 till about 4am

[kleftiko]

❦ ON MY DESK BY MIDNIGHT

“your professor was a strict asshole and you were failing the class. the only thing to do was go to him for extra help, unfortunately, he’s not a patient man.”

cw: teacher/student relationship, age gap, spanking, unprotected sex, sir kink, hate fucking (?)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

If looks could kill, your laptop would be six feet under.

You glared at the 29% on your screen as if it would change under intimidation. If it were any other class, the right thing would be to drop, but you needed this credit for your major, and you weren't gonna let your asshole professor stand in the way of your degree. So you closed the tab and opened your email.

Hi, Professor Geto,

I just received my mark on the last test, and I did not do as well as I hoped. Is there any extra material you recommend that I study in order to get a better grade next time? Or are there any tutoring opportunities I could use?

Thank you,

Y/N

Within a couple minutes, you received a response.

Sure.

Office hours tomorrow.

Sent from my iPhone

Besides the fact that he didn't answer your questions, the complete lack of tact from this man plus the shitty grade he gave you just pissed you off, and you ended up slamming your poor laptop closed with petty rage.

God, you hated him. He was always so haughty, acting as if everything around him was boring. You've caught his dark eyes glancing over at you with a condescending smirk more times than you could count. The thought of seeking tutoring opportunities from someone like him only made your blood boil even more.

You hated his stupidly long hair and how it always framed his face and looked so soft. You hated how, when it was warm, he wore short sleeves that showed off his tattoos that you couldn't take your eyes off of. You hated how his deep, velvety voice made you shift in your seat as you imagined him whispering things in your ear.

You hated him.

And you hated thinking about him right now, so with a huff, you turned over and went to sleep.

The next day, you went to his office. Looking through the open door at him, you were reminded of your thoughts last night. He had his hair tied up, those stubborn bangs falling out effortlessly like always, and his buttoned shirt was rolled up around his forearms, a glimpse of inked skin peeking through. Professor Geto was shuffling through some papers when he looked up from his desk and met your eyes.

"You coming in?" He drawled, and you blushed slightly from being caught.

You shuffled inside and closed the door behind you before your fingers started playing with the hem of your skirt. Professor Geto stood up and placed your test on the desk.

"So you don't like your mark." He said and you shook your head. "What do you plan to do about that?"

You frowned. "I emailed you yesterday about tutoring."

"It seems like you don't listen to what I say during lectures; why would you listen now?"

"I do listen to you! Maybe you just suck at teaching."

"Maybe you're a shit student." He retaliated, and all thoughts of his attractiveness went out the window.

You started seething. "I'm there for every lecture!"

"Then maybe if you didn't eye-fuck the boys in class and actually paid attention, you'd have passed."

Your eyebrows shot up to the sky as you seethed, "Excuse me?"

But he just blinked at you.

"Why does it matter if I'm eye-fucking someone?" You blurted.

"It gets a little distracting in class when my students keep talking about who you blew on the weekend instead of working." His sharp gaze cut you down, and you felt bare. But you didn't back out of the challenge.

"Oh, so you're just upset 'cause you're a 35-year-old virgin who can't get any." You surmised, and he smirked.

"Yea? And why are your panties soaked every class?" He took a step forward and towered over you, leaning down slightly and lowering his voice. "Next time you spread your legs under the desk, I like the lacey white ones you wear."

The heat in your face felt like a wildfire, but you refused to let him see your vulnerability. "Who says it's you that gets me wet?" You retorted, standing your ground.

But with one more step toward you, your knees nearly buckled. Almost chest-to-chest with the man, he trailed his fingers up your arm, leaving goosebumps along your skin, before dipping under your skirt. You shuddered at his cool hands, frozen in place as he curled two fingers along your pussy. It took all your strength not to moan at the simple touch.

Retracting his grip, he lifted up his hand in front of the two of you and admired the slick covering his fingers. As he spread them, your stringy juice connected each digit, proof of the lewd thoughts you have for your professor. But then he brings them to your mouth, and you don't know why, but you habitually open your lips and suck your fluid from his fingertips, not breaking eye contact with the man.

"You expect me to believe that wasn't meant for me?" He spoke in a dangerously low voice that caused you to whimper softly around his fingers.

Geto smiled—a sight you had never seen before but could tell was downright sadistic. His eyes gleamed with a mix of satisfaction and power as he watched your submissive reaction. It was clear that he enjoyed having this control over you, relishing in the knowledge that he could make you succumb to his desires without question.

Then he turned away from you, taking back his fingers and casually wiping them on his pressed shirt as he looked down at the graded test. You were confused.

"So, you're not happy with the mark." He repeated. You could sense a hint of amusement in his voice, as if he found your disappointment entertaining. It was evident that he took pleasure in exerting his dominance over you. As he continued to speak, his condescending tone only further emphasized his sadistic nature. "Why don't we go through it?"

After a couple of dumbfounded blinks, wondering if what just transpired actually took place, you nodded and stepped towards the desk.

Your professor moved away for a second before appearing behind you and holding out a pencil. Not knowing what was going on, you took the utensil from his grasp, feeling the rough skin of his fingers—the same ones that were just in your mouth. You looked down at the test.

"First question..." You trailed off as his large hand came to rest on your ass. You froze for a second at the touch, but then he pulled away and landed a harsh smack against you.

You yelped and looked up at him with wide eyes.

The condescending gaze was back. "Did I tell you to stop?"

Your heart raced as confusion and arousal washed over you. The shock of his actions made it difficult to comprehend what was happening, but the slight stinging sensation on your ass had you bowing your head back to the paper.

"No," you said.

"No, what?"

"No, Sir." You corrected, and he hummed softly, his hand coming back to massage under your skirt.

You continued reading the question, trying not to falter at the reminder of his touch. But when you began your answer, his hand drew back and landed another harsh spank.

You gripped the desk in front of you.

"Wrong." Was all he said.

You whimpered but tried again.

Another slap.

"Sir..." You whined.

"Keep going."

You wiggled under his touch, your legs pushing together for a fraction of friction where you really needed it. Taking your time, you slowly worked through the answer, voice trembling at each graze of his rough fingers toying with the edge of your panties. When you finished, his hand dipped under the fabric and rubbed your clit, causing you to buckle under him.

His other arm came around to hold you up, pressing your body back into his sturdy chest as he chuckled darkly.

"Good girl," he mumbled. "Next."

"Sir, please..." You didn't know what you were asking for, but the lewd sound of his fingers against your soaked lips and the pleasure that came from them had your mind fuzzy.

"Are you already fucked dumb?" He asked rhetorically. "Haven't even taken out my dick yet."

At that, you whined and pushed yourself back against him, feeling his hard cock through his dress pants. He let out a hiss at the sensation, letting go of you in favour of undoing his buckle. As your arms fell on the desk in front of you to hold up your body, you couldn't help but anticipate the impending release of pleasure that awaited you. The air in the room grew thick with desire as he finally freed himself from his pants, and you could feel your own arousal burning with each passing second.

Geto didn't warn you when he entered. The sudden intrusion of his hard length inside you took your breath away, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. The intensity of the moment overwhelmed you, heightening the pleasure and leaving you craving more.

He wasn't gentle with you, treating you like a vessel for his own pleasure, but your wanton moans told him you liked it just as much as him.

"Do the little boys in the class fuck you like this?" He grunted, and you shook your head defiantly.

You bit your lip, trying to regain some confidence as you said, "T-they do it better."

"Oh?" He hummed and pulled out.

Your professor slipped out of you, grabbed your hips, and flipped you over. He pushed you back onto the desk, laid you down atop all the messy paperwork—including your forgotten test—and pushed your legs into your chest before you thrust inside again.

You let out a moan at the newfound spot he could reach, and Geto slapped a hand over your mouth.

"You want everyone to know this 35-year-old virgin is fucking you?" He mocked your inability to speak.

Every glide and thrust of his hips against yours sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your entire being. The rhythm between you two was intoxicating—a perfect dance of lust and appetite. With each movement, you found yourself surrendering completely to the overwhelming pleasure, losing yourself in the euphoria of the moment.

"God, how are you so fucking tight?" He groaned, his voice filled with a mix of desire and disbelief. The intensity of the sensations overwhelmed you, making it hard to form coherent words. You could only moan in response, your body responding to his every touch and movement. Then he brought his thumb roughly against your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The pleasure intensified, causing your breath to hitch and your heart to race even faster. Every nerve ending in your body felt alive, consumed by the sting of ecstasy that seemed to have no end in sight.

"You like being used like this?" He asked. "Seems to be the only thing you're good at."

As the words left his lips, a mix of desire and humiliation washed over you. The intensity of the moment heightened, and your mind raced with conflicting emotions, torn between the raw pleasure coursing through your veins and the sting of his degrading words. It was a twisted dance of dominance and submission, leaving you yearning for more while questioning your own desires.

But as your orgasm washed over you, your mind was filled with nothing but pleasure, and your professor's cock was still buried deep inside you, pulsating with each wave of pleasure that rippled through your body. The illicit nature of the encounter only fueled your desire further as you surrendered completely to the intoxicating sensations for just a moment. As you lay there, spent and breathless, a newfound sense of liberation washed over you, leaving you craving more of the man in front of you.

He pulled out of you.

Your eyes widened with confusion and disappointment as you watched him retreat, leaving you feeling empty and unsatisfied. The sudden absence of his presence left a void within you, aching for his touch once again. So when he sat in his chair and motioned you back to him with a single curl of his finger, you willed your aching legs to carry you into his lap.

As you settled atop him, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. The intensity of his gaze and the heat radiating from his body reignited the desire that had momentarily been extinguished. You lined yourself up with his cock and slowly ground yourself onto it.

His hands stilled against you when you tried to bounce, however, and kept you trapped against him as he looked down at you.

"You do this to all your professors?" He asked, and you shook your head violently.

"Only you, sir." Your once-confident voice was now soft and laced with lust, and you let out a soft moan as you felt his dick twitch within you at the mention of his name. "You like when I call you 'Sir'?

His glare darkened, hips thrusting up harshly to elicit a yelp from you.

"You like when I make you cum on my cock?" He retaliated, and you bit your tongue. "Make me cum, and I'll give you a passing grade."

At the proposition, a mix of excitement and hesitation washed over you. The power dynamic between you and your professor was intoxicating, but the thought of trading sexual favours for academic success was never something you thought you'd do. However, the allure of achieving a passing grade in his class was hard to resist, and the thought of making this man you despise come undone was too good to pass up.

You leaned in, nipped his ear, and, in your most sultry voice, said, "Anything you want, sir.”

As those words left your lips, a rush of adrenaline coursed through your veins. The line between right and wrong blurred in that moment, and when you lifted your hips, only to fall straight down on his aching cock, you felt nothing but pride.

The intensity of the moment consumed you as you revelled in the power you took back. As the pleasure intensified, a sense of satisfaction washed over you, fueling your desire to get what you want. You bounced on top of him, riding the wave of control and dominance. Every movement was deliberate, and every moan he uttered was a testament to your newfound liberation. With each thrust, you could feel the balance of power shifting in your favour, solidifying your position as the one in charge. The exhilaration of getting what you desired fueled your confidence, leaving you hungry for more.

When his grip on your sides tightened and his eyes screwed shut in pleasure, you revelled in the satisfaction of knowing that you had brought him to this point. As Geto reached the peak of ecstasy, a sense of fulfillment washed over you, knowing you had finally made this man crumble.

You jumped off his lap, making his cum squirt into the air, only to fall and soil his pants. The pathetic stature of the man in front of you, coming down from his high, made you grin, eyes flashing to his glaring ones.

Wordlessly, you grabbed your crumpled test and pushed it in front of him, smirking down at the soiled man.

#kleftiko’s kinktober #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #suguru geto x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #suguru geto smut #getou suguru x reader

[itneverendshere]

erase all of my memories without you - rafe cameron.

part 2 of can't remember anything before you.

pairing: rafe cameron x thornton!reader; brother's best friend! trope or best friend's sister! trope lmao; fem!reader.

word count: a lot??

WARNINGS: boyfriend!rafe <3; rafe being the biggest lover boy; tooth-rotting fluff if im being honest; topper's a dick but just for a sec; rafe is down bad; so cute.

“rafe, i told you, no hickeys!”

“can you blame me?” he has that mischievous gleam in his eyes, like he's testing just how far he can push your boundaries. “you’re just so pretty, baby.”

you roll your eyes, trying to maintain a serious tone despite the playful grin pulling at your lips. “shut up.” 

being with rafe cameron was not on your yearly plans, but every single day, you thank your lucky stars for finally doing something right. he's a total game-changer, your personal slice of heaven. 

who would have thought the universe had that kind of surprise up its sleeve? 

he leans in closer, breath warm against your ear, arms wrapped securely around your waist, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. "i should visit more often if that’s how you’re going to greet me each time.”

you can't help but lean back into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness.

"you should." you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers gently tracing circles on his hand. “wouldn't mind that at all."

you’d been together ever since that fateful night in your garden, months ago. 

sneaking around had its thrills, especially with your brother always lurking nearby, but nothing compared to the challenge of a long-distance relationship. late-night calls, stolen moments of intimacy over video chats, and endless messages are your lifelines. 

so when rafe finally stepped through the door of your new york apartment last night, after weeks apart, it was no surprise that you couldn't help but pounce on him, eager to make up for lost time. his slutty grey sweatpants, his choice of comfortable for a flight, were imprinted into your brain. 

“so, so pretty." he murmurs, lips brushing against your earlobe, “y'know i can't resist leaving my mark on you."

you playfully swat at him, a grin spreading across your face despite your half-hearted protest, “topper would kill you."

rafe snorts, the sound traveling through your body as he presses a kiss to your temple, “he can try.”

you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of keeping your relationship with rafe under wraps. it’s not like you don’t want to make it official, god, you do. but you’ve spent the last four months having him all to yourself, you don’t want other people to butt in and ruin everything with their unsolicited opinions. 

being with him feels right. he's your rock, your constant in a world that's always changing. 

“can we go back to bed now?” rafe’s warm breath tickles your ear as he speaks, his voice laced with a hint of grogginess, sleep still clouding his brain, “it’s fucking freezing.”

you chuckle quietly at his sleepy request, the sound mixing with the gentle hum of the heater as it struggles to combat the winter chill.

“course." you murmur, unwrapping yourself from his arms to press a tender kiss to his cheek, "let's get you warmed up."

his fingers don’t let you move an inch away, circling your wrist to pull you closer against his chest again, big cheeky smile on his face as he looks down at you. “you gonna warm me up, peach?”

"i might." you reply with a sly smirk, trailing a finger down his shirtless chest. "but you might have to work for it a little."

rafe's eyes widen with mock surprise. "is that so?" he asks, his voice low and husky as he pulls you closer. “well, lucky for you, i’m up for a challenge."

you’d never felt butterflies in your tummy until you started dating this man. he has you wrapped around his fingers, and you don’t want out. it physically hurts you to even think about a time when you didn’t have rafe like this.

you can't imagine being anywhere else but here, wrapped in his embrace.

with a playful giggle, you give him a knowing look. "’m counting on it," you murmur, as you pull him closer. you stand on your barefoot tiptoes, arms lacing around his neck. “really missed you.”

rafe's arms tighten around you as he pulls you impossibly close, his warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket. his gaze softens, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter even faster.

 “missed you too, more than you know." he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours as he leans in to press a docile kiss to your lips.

“always thinking about my girl.” 

as his lips meet yours, a wave of warmth washes over you, melting away any lingering traces of cold or distance. fuck, you’re in love with him and if he keeps kissing you like this, you might confess earlier. you’re way in over your head.

you sigh contentedly against his lips, savoring the feeling of being so close to him after being apart for so long. his touch, his scent, his presence—all of it feels like home to you. breaking the kiss reluctantly, you rest your forehead against his.

“stop staring at me like that peach.” he scolds, but there’s no bite to his tone as his fingertips brush your cheek lightly. “gonna end up buying this fucking building if you keep that up.”

you smile again, that’s all you seem to do around him anyway, as his beautiful eyes sweep up from your lips to meet your own. “rafe cameron living in new york? i’d pay to see that.”

rafe chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and sending pleasant vibrations through your body. his fingers trace lazy patterns along your cheek, his touch sweet and affectionate.

“you'd pay to see it, huh?" he teases, a playful glint in his face as he leans in closer to you, his breath warm against your skin. “’m that good of an investment?”

you can't help but laugh at his playful banter, shaking your head. you love that you get to see this side of him, how soft he is with you, only you.

“you’re alright cameron.”

"jus’ alright?" he feigns offense, his hand moving to rest over his heart in an exaggerated manner. "take it back.”

“nop.”

rafe lets out a dramatic sigh, pretending to be wounded. "no?” 

you can't help but giggle at his theatrics, finding it endearing how he always manages to lighten the mood.

"you big baby." you tease, poking him playfully in the side.

“oh, i’ll show you big.”

before you can even wrap your brain around his innuendo, you’re being thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. he does it so effortlessly you almost swoon. 

you squeal in surprise, the sudden movement catching you off guard. "rafe, what the fuck?" you laugh, squirming slightly as he carries you effortlessly across the room. “what are you doing—hey!”

his palm smacks against one of your cheeks, covered by nothing except a pair of his ralph lauren boxers. “taking you to bed, where you belong.”

you play along, pretending to protest even as you secretly enjoy the attention. 

"and what if i don't want to go to bed?" you retort, trying to sound defiant.

rafe stops in his tracks, his grip tightening around your legs. "oh, trust me, peach," he says, his tone turning serious for a moment, "you definitely want to go to bed."

“hmm, not sure.”

“it’s okay brat, you’ll be sure soon enough." he teases, deep voice making you want to do the most immoral things on every single surface of your apartment.

a repeat of last night. 

you play along, feigning uncertainty as he deposits you gently onto the queen-sized bed, his stare burning with desire as he hovers over you, thick arms caging you in. one of your hands wraps around his bicep, nails grazing the skin as you glance up at him, head tilted to the side.

rafe’s eyes instantly move to your neck as your hair slips behind, tongue poking out to wet his lips, "i don't know, baby, might have to convince me."

he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "consider it my pleasure." he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly gentle kiss.

you feel a shiver run down your back as rafe's lips meet yours, his kiss sending a surge of electricity through your body. you’ll never get used to this. his touch is both tender and assertive, his lips moving against yours with a practiced finesse that leaves you breathless. 

it's like every nerve in your being wakes up, responding eagerly to his touch.

as he deepens the kiss, his hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your waist and hips with a possessive urgency, with a sense of familiarity as if committing every curve to memory. his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss even further, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before delving into your mouth in a hungry, desperate kiss. you melt against him, surrendering. 

you feel a surge of heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, your breath catching in your throat as he explores you with a hunger that leaves you trembling.

“better than alright?” he mumbles against your lips and you find yourself unable to resist the pull of his touch, arching against him in silent invitation. his lips trail a path of fire along your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake, “lost your voice, huh?”

he’s so addicted to sucking harshly on your skin, nibbling it playfully to drag out and elicit the sweetest sounds from your mouth. a melodic moan escapes your parted lips.

“you’re such an asshole.”

“there she is.” rafe's husky chuckle fills the air, sending pleasant vibrations through your body as he continues to pepper kisses along your neck, each one igniting a fiery trail of craving in its wake. “’m your asshole though.”

“not if you keep teasing.” 

his lips pause their trail, hovering just above your skin as he looks up at you, one of his brows raised, "teasing?”

before you can protest his lips are on yours again, hungry and demanding. his hands roam over your body with a newfound urgency, tracing every corner and eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. he has the audacity to hush you when he pins you harder with his hips, clothed cock rubbing perfectly against you. 

your nails can’t help but dig into his shoulders, pulling at the skin. the way he's moving against you makes you feel like getting on your knees and letting him do whatever he wants to you, for however long he wishes to.

but then, your stupid intercom is buzzing.

you both freeze, caught in the throes of passion interrupted. rafe drops his head on your shoulder, groaning. 

"seriously?" he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration as he rolls off you, giving you space to sit up.

“it’s probably breakfast.” you’re smoothing out your rumpled clothes— if you can call an oversized tee and boxers an outfit.

rafe lets out an exaggerated sigh, flopping back onto the bed, “’m so hard it hurts.” he whines, throwing an arm over his face.

“you’ll be fine.”

“can’t even see you right now, might cum in my sweats.” he mutters, his voice muffled by the fabric of your pillows.

you stifle a laugh, shaking your head at his melodramatic response.

"you're ridiculous." you tease, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

rafe peeks out from under his arm, giving you a glare, his bottom lip jutting out in a comically exaggerated pout. “and you're making me harder, stop touching me and go get the door.”

you lean in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, feet planted on the ground as you attempt to get up, but he’s quick to pull you down again. his beefy arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back on top of him.

“rafe.”

“gimme a kiss before you go.”

“though you didn’t want me to touch you.” you tease, leaning down to press a short kiss to his lips. it's meant to be quick, just a peck, but his hand snakes up to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. settling on your lower lip, he draws it into his mouth, sucking lightly, pushing you even closer. he runs his hands along your sides, one stopping just below your covered breasts—

“the door,” you manage to stutter out between kisses, “behave.”

when he finally pulls away, both your lips are slightly swollen, red and you’re both breathless.

 "there," you say as you push yourself off the bed once more. but this time, rafe lets you go without protest, admiring you with a lazy smile as you make your way to the door. 

when you moved back to new york three months ago, you chose to do it independently. while your parents owned at least three penthouses in the city, you needed something smaller. what was the point in living alone in such big apartments? you’d be miserable and alone most of the time.

you chose a smaller studio, fancy enough to be your type, but cozy enough to make you feel at home, even though you were miles away. 

as you reach the door, you glance back to see rafe still lounging in your bed, arms crossed lazily behind his head. you shake your own, turn back, and open the door.

your heart immediately falls through your ass.

“topper?!”

he ignores you, pushing you aside to enter as he focuses on removing the thick scarf around his neck, struggling to get it off as he rants.

“about damn time, you know how long i was outside?! swear to god i hate this city, it’s freezing for no reason and—is that rafe fucking cameron on your bed?!”

you freeze in place, feeling a knot form in your stomach as you watch topper's reaction unfold. rafe, ever the cool customer, sits up in bed, a smirk playing at his lips as he meets your brother’s incredulous gaze head-on. you can feel a headache forming in the back of your head. 

"hey, top." rafe geets, his tone casual as if he's just encountered an old friend. which he has because that’s his best friend. "long time no see?"

topper's eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of rafe lounging on your bed, “okay, okay. what the fuck is going on?”

he's going to freak out on you.

you clear your throat, trying to find the right words to explain the situation, “he’s visiting.”

top nods, not leaving his best friend out of his sight, “clearly! why are you in my sister’s bed, cameron?”

“was i supposed to sleep on the floor?” rafe replies, tone nonchalantly as he shrugs casually.

you’re going to kill him.

topper's jaw clenches as he shoots rafe a glare, clearly unimpressed by his answer. "you know damn well what i mean." he says, his voice menacing, so different from what you're used to.

rafe's smirk only widens, “relax, man," he says, his tone dripping with casual indifference. "we were just hanging out."

and about to have sex, but your brother doesn’t need all the details. 

topper's expression darkens further at your boyfriend’s flippant attitude, and you can practically feel the terrible outcome. 

"in her bed?" he asks, his voice dangerously low.

you step forward, hoping to defuse the situation before it escalates any further.

 "topper, it's not what you think," you begin, but your brother holds up a hand to silence you.

“and why are you wearing his clothes?”

you glance down at your choice of outfit, flustered, you try to come up with a plausible explanation, “uh—well—it's a funny story, i-i'm out of clothes actually, who knew doing your laundry took so much work?”

his attention flickers between you and rafe, suspicion evident in his expression. you can practically see the gears turning in his head.

"out of clothes?" he repeats, his tone incredulous. "and you decided to borrow his?"

you shift uncomfortably under his scrutinization, trying to come up with a better explanation, but you can’t. “yeah?”

he squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s in pain, “please tell me my sister isn’t fucking my best friend.”

you swallow hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you, but rafe speaks before you can conjure the words. 

“your sister isn’t fucking your best friend, happy?” 

you shoot rafe a warning look, silently pleading for him to play along and not make the situation worse.

you step forward, again. “topper, please, it's not what you think,” you say, your voice tinged with desperation. “rafe just came to visit, that's all.”

topper's stare softens as he contemplates, but his expression remains guarded. “and you didn't think to tell me?”

you bite your lip, feeling guilty for keeping your relationship with rafe a secret from your brother. “i wanted to, i just... didn't know how.”

rafe interjects, his tone more serious now. “top, i know this probably looks bad—”

“it looks really bad,” topper interrupts, his frustration evident.

“but nothing's happened,” rafe continues, ignoring the interruption. “we're just friends.”

but your brother is still inspecting you. and it’s only when his eyes descend to your neck, you realize what he’s looking at.

“is that why she got at least three hickeys on her neck?”

you feel a flush rise to your cheeks as topper's accusation hangs heavy in the air. you stare nervously at rafe, hoping he'll come up with a believable explanation, but he just shrugs nonchalantly, as if the hickeys are no big deal. 

“they’re not hickeys, i burned myself with my curling iron.”

“yeah and i’m fucking adriana lima on my spare time.”

“okay?” you quickly turn your head back to the wall because you think you're about to puke up everything you just ingested.

"oh fuck, not you." top groans in frustration, seeing where rafe googly looks are directed, “not you two! you can't be serious?! that's my sister, dude; come on!" 

rafe finally stands up from your bed, his tone is firm, his expression serious as he steps closer to your brother, his hands held out in a placating gesture. “it’s not like that.”

topper glances back and forth between you two, focusing on the blush of your cheeks and the adoration in rafe’s face now that you are looking back at him. a sick, knowing feeling had been building inside of him since he walked through the door. 

“i can’t fucking believe this.” 

“it’s not like that,” rafe repeats, walking to your side, hating the way your eyes are starting to water. he keeps his hand on your arm, thumb brushing circles over your cold skin, “we’re together. and watch your fucking tone when you speak to her.”

“don’t tell me how to speak to my sister!"

rafe's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. despite that, his hand remains steady on your arm, offering you a silent anchor of support. you feel a knot tighten in your stomach as you testify the tension between the two most important men in your life escalates.

"guys, please," you interject, your voice trembling, "this isn't helping anything."

“you’re in love with her, cameron?”

topper’s question makes you want to dig a hole in the middle of your studio and run.

what the hell?!

he can’t just barge in and make everything a mess. this is what you were afraid of, people meddling with your relationship. you and rafe haven’t discussed it yet. yeah it’s clear you’re in love with him, but you want to be the one to tell him and vice versa. you don’t want him to feel pressured to do it.

rafe's hand tightens on your arm, anchoring himself with the feeling of you beneath his fingertips. his eyes search yours for guidance. you can see the conflict in his expression.

he doesn’t shy away from the question, and his gaze never leaves yours. he traces every line of your face, “yeah, i am.”

the words hang in the air, a declaration that changes everything and nothing all at once. then time stops. your stomach turns unhelpfully, and you feel your skin turn clammy. 

from the corner of your eye, you see the shock register on your brother’s face before he can hide it. strangely, he seems to understand now, perhaps more than you realized he would. for a moment, there's silence in the room, the weight of rafe's confession settling over all of you. but then topper lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging with the weight of understanding.

"okay," he says, his voice softer now, lacking the edge of anger from before. "okay."

you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, feeling a sense of relief flood through you. despite the uncertainty of what comes next. 

rafe's hand finds yours, intertwining his fingers with yours in a silent gesture of solidarity. you squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch grounding you. 

"thank you," you say to topper, your voice barely above a whisper but brimmed with gratitude.

he nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "just... take care of each other, okay?"

“can you leave now?” rafe all but interrupts the sentimental exchange, “kinda need to properly confess.”

topper raises an eyebrow at his abrupt request, clearly caught off guard by the bluntness. but after a second of hesitation, he nods, pushing himself off the wall where he's been leaning.

"yeah, sure," he says, giving you a meaningful look before turning to leave. "just... be careful, both of you. i’ll stop by later for dinner."

you offer him a small smile in return, feeling a shit ton of emotions swirling inside you as you watch him go. once he's out of sight, you let out a sigh, the tension in the room finally dissipating.

rafe releases your hand, moving to close the door behind topper before returning to your side. his expression is softer now, focused solely on you. 

"you okay?" he asks, his voice soft as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

you nod, offering him a shaky smile. "yeah, think so. that was... unexpected."

rafe pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wants to let you go. 

"m’ sorry peach," he murmurs against your hair, his voice filled with regret. "didn't mean to drop that bomb on ya like that."

you sink into his embrace, finding comfort in the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart. "t's okay," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you nuzzle into his chest. "just wish it had been different."

he presses a kiss to the top of your head, arms tightening around you protectively. "i know," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves.

then, as if a floodgate has opened within you, the words spill from your lips, raw and unfiltered. "i’m in love with you too, rafe."

his arms around you tighten, as if to reassure himself that your words are real. 

"i love you," he murmurs against your hair, "more than anything."

you feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, “you’re gonna make me cry.”

he pulls back slowly, cupping your face in his hands and wiping away the tears that have started to fall. "hey now, no tears, baby. only happy ones, yeah?"

you nod, sniffling but managing a watery smile. "yeah, happy tears. because i love you, rafe cameron."

he smiles back, a gentleness in him you've never seen before. 

"and i love you, more than anything in this world."

you can't help but lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palms against your cheeks. his stare is full of tenderness, his thumb gently brushing away the last traces of tears.

"you're everything, y’know that?" he murmurs, his voice overflowing with sincerity.

you nod, feeling a lump forming in your throat at the depth of his words. "yeah, i do. and so are you.”

he leans in closer, lips capturing yours in a sweet kiss. he moves against you with a gentle fervor, his hands cradling your face as if you're the most precious thing in the world to him. and in that moment, you know without a doubt that you are and as you pull away, breathless yet content, you rest your forehead against his, savoring the closeness and the warmth that surrounds you.

"i love you," you whisper.

"i love you too, always," rafe replies, his voice a gentle caress against your skin.

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[lightwing-s]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐢 ; 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: It was a normal night, till he had to look for you. And then, the storm began.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 8k warnings: pregnancy, talks of abusive parents, mentions of abortion.

a/n: as Jesus is reborn, so am I! Happy Easter to everybody that waited so long for this chapter to come out. I'm sorry it took me so long, but I got so busy this past month that if I hear anyone say 'illicit trade' or 'online trafficking' I might kill somebody lol. I hope this chapter compensates for the time, though. It is mostly Jason's pov, with references to the reader as she/her rather than you because I thought it might sound better. Idk, lmk if it's weird lol.

a/n 2: also, I can't begin to thank everyone for the incredible support in this series. I've got so many messages that had me on the verge of tears with happiness and how sweet they were. I trully hope I'm capable of continuing to bring you guys joy through this series and other stories. I love you all, and thank you so much for allowing me to finally let my ideas become words, and my words to have meaning

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

A cold shiver ran up Jason’s spine. The soft breeze coming off the opened fridge climbed up his shirtless torso, drying the sweat on his skin and leaving it cold and sticky. The nearly freezing water slid down his throat, giving him the refreshment he craved for after a long session of training, and an even longer day of work.

It was finally over. His session, his day, his week. Saturday couldn't have come sooner. Sighing in relief, he refilled the water bottle, shoved it back into it’s previous place and turned on his heel heading for a much needed shower. He was tired. Drained. And all he wanted to do was drop down in his bed and sleep for a whole entire night.

Picking out his phone from his joggers’ pocket, he took one last peek at the screen. Almost 10:00pm, and a weather report of an incoming rainstorm soon. Perfect, he thought. He loved to sleep to the sound of rain. So, he locked his phone, threw it on the sofa, and rushed to the bathroom, hoping to get a shower before it got too cold, leaving fast enough to get to bed before the raindrops started to fall.

He stripped down his pants in front of his mirror, a quick stop to admire his progress. Chest, arms, and back. All proof of his hardwork and commitment. And yet, a reddish mark by his neck was what really caught his attention. Roy had poked fun at it earlier, but his joke couldn’t be farther from the truth. A bug bite, as simple as that. An allergic reaction to a stupid bug. But that stupid reaction, that stupid mark, brought him back to the last time something like that was left on his skin.

Yn had left with countless marks after that brief session in a stranger’s office. Enough to last him a while. But not more than the first time he had you, right under the same roof he was at now. Marks on his neck, on his chest, arms, and back. If he thought too long of it, he could feel her lips warming his skin, making his mind go crazy, and his blood to boil.

Shaking his head, he tried to keep those thoughts away. It wasn’t time. It wasn’t appropriate. Yn was now the mother of his child. Nothing more than that. He couldn’t keep the thought lingering. So, sliding the glass door open, he entered the shower, hoping to wash away all the thoughts off his mind.

As the cold water hit his shoulders, relief spread to his entire body, even if the chilling weather of the start of fall was not the most adequate for such water temperature. Sinking his head under the cascade, he closed his eyes, mind emptying, and peace reaching him after a long and rough week.

It was silent in his head. But it wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t wash his mind off of Yn. It was first the night he had you over, and under him, moaning his name repeatedly in his ear.  He remembered how soft her skin felt, how light was her touch, and yet he couldn’t forget the burning pain her nails had left on his back. 

He drowned in the memory of her intoxicating smell, and how the skin under her ear tasted sweet. For a moment, even through the freezing water, he swore he could feel her blood catching fire running through her body, warming him along the way through their skins, glued to one another, tangled in each other, in a night he would never forget.

And then came the memories of the second time. How annoyed she was, and how easily she gave in to him. It was like her body responded to his, knowing it was only him that could give him the pleasure she craved. He missed the feral, animalistic, feelings of that afternoon, and how she fit perfectly around him.

Stop, he thought to himself, opening his eyes to the bright room. This isn’t okay. But again, it was already too late. His throbbing cock rested against his lower abdomen, hard and leaking. He smelled his arousal mixed between the smell of his soap, and his hand reached for his tip, light touches already driving him insane. Resting his hand on the cold porcelain tile, he allowed his eyes to close again.

And then, he remembered the picture. Sent to him just a few hours earlier. It wasn't dirty. On the contrary, it was as innocent as one could be. It was her, playing along with a baby toy, those usually overpriced, but that could distract even a grown adult. And thus she was, distractedly playing with the toy as a picture was snapped without her acknowledgment, and probably sent to him without her knowing either. Her barely visible smile caught his eyes immediately. 

For the almost six months he had known her, it wasn’t a sight he got to see often, but that had been gracing his presence much more frequently now. It was beautiful. To him, it was art. Pure and soft. Bright and warm. He could watch it all day. He remembered the first time she smiled at him, in his kitchen, over snacks and laughter. Just before he had her pinned under him in the most intense lovemaking session he’d ever had.

He cursed himself. How could he turn an innocent picture into fire for his wet dreams? But how could he stop thinking of the soft skin of her neck, almost the focus of that picture, when it was exposed right there just for him to see? How could he stop his mind from wandering when it had been so long he had been with anyone? When he had been with her.

Only a few touches brought him his high, spilling all over his wall like a firetruck. Gosh, he hasn’t fucked anyone in so long it was almost pittyful. Feeling himself grow soft, he sunk himself in the water again, washing his face ferociously to wash the shame away. He wasn’t religious, but he prayed he could keep you out of his mind. He couldn’t keep doing it. Things had changed. It wasn’t appropriate. Fuck.

He walked to his bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Straight to his closet where, after a few minutes of searching, he found the new pair of sweatpants he had gotten. Gray like all others he owned. Putting it on, he returned to the kitchen, threw himself on the sofa, and prayed, while watching the darkened ceiling, that he could keep her out of his mind.

Soon closing his eyes, the darkness and the tiredness sank him into sleep. Letting go of lights and noises coming from the outside, he allowed the quietness to embrace him. However, his peace didn’t last long.

Underneath him, he felt the incessant vibrations of his phone, even if he couldn’t seem to find the device anywhere. It was just as the phone had stopped that he found it hidden between the pillows, and he unlocked the screen to a scary surprise. 

Yn 6 Missed Calls

“What the fuck!” he screamed out loud, worry slowly creeping up his chest, weighing it down and making it hard to breathe. 

She didn’t call him. Never. Not one single time. He was the one to always call and message to check if she was okay, or to start any conversation. Something must have happened, and going by the sheer number of times she had tried to contact him, it wasn’t good. Quickly unlocking his phone, he typed on the notification, calling Yn back straight away. She didn’t take long to pick up.

“Yn, what happened?” he questioned as soon as she picked up.

“Oh, thank god!” He heard from the other line, but the voice wasn’t hers. “Jason, It’s Vanessa here. Nessie. Yn’s friend.”

“H-hi, Vanessa,” he greeted through his wavering voice. “What happened? Where’s Yn?” he inquired. He wasn’t only met with silence from the other line, although Vanessa’s tense breathing indicated she was still on the call. With a demanding voice, he asked one more time, “Vanessa?”

“Jason…” She took a deep breath. “Yn is gone.”

It felt as if a heavy weight pulled his heart down, as it dropped lower than it ever had. Yet, his mind was empty, none of Vanessa’s words making sense to him. Yn was gone. Gone where? Why? Where was gone? He had so many questions, yet only once made it out of his lips.

“What?!” his voice faltered.

“She’s gone. I don’t know where to.” Vanessa’s voice too was shaky, and seemed to be holding back tears from falling down. “I heard everything through the walls but I was too afraid to go out and find him, because he scares the shit out of me. He’s really huge, you know, he could easily knock me down if I tried to help her,” Vanessa was rambling, and he could hear her incessant steps, as if she couldn’t keep herself still. “And they were fast too, by the time I got the courage to come out they were already gone, and…”

“Vanessa, calm down,” he requested, already fishing for a t-shirt and shoes from his bedroom. Whatever it was she was trying to tell him, it was worrying. Had someone taken her? Why?

“ ’m sorry. I-I just… I got her phone by accident. She accidentally left me with it when she handed me her shopping bags. So I’ve tried calling you ever since.” 

“Are you at home?” he asked and got a hum in responde. “I’m coming over, okay? I’ll be there in a second. But who took her, Nessie, please. Who was it?”

“No one took her,” she started to explain, pausing for what sounded to be a glass of water. Jason too prepared a glass before he left. “Her dad kicked her out. He found out she was pregnant.”

“He did what?!” he nearly screamed on the line, blood beginning to boil. He hadn’t heard much about her parents, but taking by how shaken about the pregnancy at first, he had no doubts they were partially responsible for her nervousness.

“He found out she was pregnant and kicked her out of her apartment,” she repeated. “Well, technically it’s his apartment, he pays for ever- But it doesn’t matter now. She’s gone and we have to find her! She was crying, a lot, and she left with only a backpack and a small suitcase. She can’t have taken much…”

“And it’s going to rain,” Jason added, already sitting in his car after flying down his building’s stairs. It wasn’t just rain, but a storm. She can’t be out in a weather like that, I have to find her. “Wait for me downstairs. I’ll be in front of your apartment in just a minute. I promise we’ll find her.”

“Vanessa!” he screamed at the girl standing on the sidewalk, looking left and right before turning to face the voice that had just called her. Jason had parked by the entrance of the building, fancy enough to have its own doorman and a beautifully decorated lobby behind its glass front doors. “How are you? Have you got any news?”

“I’m fine. At least trying to. And no news of her yet. I tried looking up and down the street, but she’s not around here anymore.” She looked at him apologetic, eyes now evidently holding back a pool of tears.

“She can’t have gone far. She was walking, right?” he asked, looking around at the still fast moving traffic on that grim Saturday night. The sky was starless, and heavy clouds filled it instead.

 “I’m so sorry, Jason,” Vanessa apologized, making him turn. Her chin trembled as her tears fell from her brown eyes. “I heard it all and couldn’t do anything. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Hey, Nessie,” he tried to soothe her, calling her by the familiar nickname he so often heard coming off Yn’s lips, and wrapping her in a friendly hug. “It’s not your fault. There wasn’t much you could do. But, please, tell me everything that happened. I’m still trying to understand it.”

Breaking off from his hug, Nessie ran her hands up and down her arms in search of warmth before looking up to meet Jason’s eyes. “Her dad is an asshole.” Oh really?, he thought. “We were coming back from the mall, you know. I sent you the picture while we were there.” He nodded. “When we arrived back her door was open, and it usually means that her parents are around. So she shoved me all of her bags before her mother could snoop in and claimed they were for my cousin’s baby shower. Before I knew it, there was screaming outside and when I went to look, her mother was weirdly pacing around and Yn and her dad were nowhere to be found.

“I thought of running down the stairs, but the elevator was already on the ground floor and I knew I couldn’t make it on time. So I just looked down the window and saw him pushing her into the streets. Her bags as well. I couldn’t understand what he said, but he was still screaming at her. Jason,” she called him, but his attention hadn’t gone anywhere. “She looked so scared, even from that far. I could see her crying, on the floor, and walking down the street. I heard movement, so I hid back in my apartment. I even heard a knock on my door, but I was too scared to open and just started calling you.”

Jason’s rage slowly grew as Vanessa continued her story. How could anyone treat family like that? He couldn’t picture treating his mother, father, or any of his siblings like that. And he specially could never imagine doing something similar to his own daughter. Whoever that man was, he wasn’t a father. He was a fucking monster he wanted to beat up so bad…

“Since she moved here for college he keeps trying to take her back to their hometown, because he says Gotham is a corrupt city and that it will “corrupt” his “baby” daughter,” Vanessa continued her story. “From what she told me, they frequent this church, and he’s seen as this “model citizen”. A joke, let me tell you. He was always controlling of her and her sisters, and they couldn’t ever walk out of line or it would ruin it for him, whatever he meant.

“I’m not sure if it’s up to me to tell you this, but it's not the first time he kicked a daughter out of home. He found out her sister kissed another girl at a party and threw her out. I guess having an unmarried pregnant daughter does the same to him and he kicked Yn too.

“I swear,” Jason ran a hand on his face. “I can kill this man.”

“Get in line. Although I do think you have more chances than me,” she tried to joke and Jason let out a dry laugh. He really could kill that man. With every single word from Vanessa, he only got worse.

A few drops of water hit his head, announcing the rain he eagerly waited for earlier was about to start. “We have to go before the rain gets heavier. She can’t be on the streets in a fucking storm.”

“I called a friend to help us look for her. He’s just by the corner. We can split up and find her quicker,” Nessie informed, waving her hand at a car that parked just before the two of them. She fixed her belt in the passenger seat while Jason rested his forearms on the window.

“You go down the street and look for her south. I’ll go north and look for her there. Nessie, please call me if you…”  he instructed the guy when exalted voices caught his attention. Coming out of the glass doors of the modern apartment complex, a large man and his wife walked out of the building in a loud exchange, aiming for the taxi that had parked just behind Nessie’s friend black SUV. “Is that him?”

The sudden change in his tone frightened Vanessa, and she stood quiet for a while until she responded with quite uncertainty, “Y-yeah.”

In that moment, Jason’s knuckles turned white from how hard he gripped on the car’s window, and his face turned a bright shade of red. Letting go of the car, Vanessa’s scream wasn’t enough to stop him from stomping in the pair’s direction, not even her repeated attempts to hold at his wrist. He shook her hold easily, legs moving fast as he eyes were set on the man responsible for all of this.

Jason exhaled a trembling breath through his nose, and he could hear his own heart thumping in his chest. His arms hung as hard as stone to his sides, and his nails dug deep into the skin of his palms. There were a few blurry sports in his sight, and his eyes burned with anger. He was seeing red, both figuratively and literally, as the neon lights of a store close by shone brightly in shades of scarlet, painting the man’s frame in its bright colors.

The large frame of the man was closer. The bald spot in his head, now much more visible. He didn’t know the man’s name, nor how looked. They never shared a word, or even a glimpse at each other. But Jason knew, oh he knew, that he would never, ever again, let him step a foot close to his girl. He would never treat you like he did, and he would pay for it even if it came little by little. 

That man would never get close to his child and its mother, and he would make sure he remembered his name. Or the feel of his punch.

“Hey!” Jason called him with a loud growl. The old man turned in his direction immediately, unaware of the fist flying into his face.

The man all but fell to the ground with a loud thud, as his wife screamed in despair. His rage not vanishing after he knocked the man down, Jason climbed on top of him, throwing punches left and right to the man’s face and stomach, until he felt his hands aching and he was pulled away from him by two pairs of strong arms.

“Stop! Jason, let go!” Vanessa screamed as he squirmed in the two men’s arms, wanting to go back to the man who failed to sit up while his wife cleared his bloody lips.

“Get over it, mate. Let’s find her,” said Vanessa’s friend, and just then he let it go.

His hand shook as he held the steering wheel. Knuckles bloodied and in throbbing pain. He still drowned in adrenaline from the well beat up he gave Yn’s excuse of a father. Vanessa’s friend, Dale, had followed him to the car to make sure he was alright to drive, but Jason assured him he was fine. The man got what he deserved, and Jason was glad he was the one to deliver it.

Alone in his car, however, he could finally allow his emotions to come out. As he drove up the opposite direction of Dale’s car, a loud scream left his lungs. Pure rage evaded his body, as his eyes burned with tears he hardly fought against. 

Why is it that when it comes to us it is always so messy? Why can’t we catch a break?, he thought. From day one, everything with you was confusing, borderline stressful most of the time. He wanted better, quieter and more peaceful days. If he was having a hard time with all that is happening, he couldn't fathom how she’d be doing right now. And the baby. It certainly wasn’t healthy for the baby.

The lights became blurry as he tried to wipe the tears away, and he had to slow down his car to not cause any unwanted accidents. With the lower speed, he could more carefully watch the sidewalks, the remaining open stores, and street corners, all looking for any sign of her. At a traffic light, red made him stop, and his eyes roamed his surroundings.

However, the blinking lights of a ‘C’ were what trapped his attention. It was a clinic. An abortion clinic. He had to swallow dry as he tried to watch its inside through the glass door. The mere idea of Yn going by it making his heart drop. If that idea ever crossed her mind, he didn’t know, but he prayed it never did. He grew attached to it too quickly. To the baby, and to her. He’d been planning, purchasing, painting and drawing a future in his head, where the two of them would be a part of. He wasn’t sure he could let it go.

When the lights turned green, his foot pressed hard on the throttle, speeding out of there before he got even more nauseous. One street turned into another, and another, and another. Still not a sign that you were around. He was growing more and more desperate as the rain got heavier and heavier. If his hands weren’t hard glued to the steering wheel, they’d be trembling tremendously. It had been long since he’d felt like this. Alone, lost and desperate. A sense there wasn’t much else he could do, and that all he did didn’t seem to work. And as every single second passed without you there by his side, his anxiety  multiplied by millions.

The rain now poured, as if the sky was about to fall down. People rushed around, their umbrellas doing nothing to shield them from the water, and coats and jackets getting drenched as they looked for shelter. He was driving desperately, looking for anything, any sign, any indication that you were safe. He checked his phone for messages from Vanessa, or a call from his brothers he had begged for help.

Dick had called his colleagues, giving them Yn’s description, asking them to keep an eye out. Tim and Stephanie were looking for you in every camera they would hack in the city, and Damian was probably begging rats and insects to lead him Yn’s way.

A lighting strike hit the ground and illuminated the sky. And then he saw it.

Hidden in the darkened entrance of a now closed store, sat on the floor, curled down in a corner, was a girl. A bright orange suitcase laying beside her, a blue backpack resting on her side, as she had her face shoved between her knees. Shaking, from cold and tears. A girl that couldn’t be anyone but you. 

He stopped the car without thinking. Without caring if there was anyone behind him on the road. He just wanted to get to you. Stepping out, he felt the rain soak his head and his shirt, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was that he’d found you. Shouting into Gotham’s dark and gloomy night, he called her name and rushed to your side.

Her head bobbed up as quickly as he ran, and it searched around for the voice was coming from. When she realized it was him, she pulled herself up from the floor swiftly and into Jason’s arms, tangling her own around his waist and letting her face fall into his chest. Her tears soaked his shirt quicker than rain had done, and she shook in his hold and her loud sobs filled Jason’s ears.

His heart broke in one million pieces. The sight of her crying once again, too much for him to handle. He couldn’t even care for the harsh way in which she had slammed against his body, he was just glad you were there. Safe and in his arms. Thus, he held closer and tight, one hand caressing her nape and he left soft kisses at her temples. 

“Hey, hey,” he cooed. “I’m here, okay? I’m here. You don’t need to cry anymore.”

Vanessa and Dale didn’t take long to arrive, but Yn didn’t stop crying even after they arrived there. The two girls, tangled in a tight embrace, cried on each other’s shoulders and the rain dropped as heavy as their tears did. Jason, on the other hand, tried to dry his eyes without anyone noticing, wiping the sleeve of his shirt on his face and turning away.

“You gave that man a good punch out there,” Dale’s raspy voice began by his side, bringing his attention away from the walls. “I would’ve done just about the same if it was my girl who was kicked out like that. Your girl should be happy she has you.” He tapped Jason’s shoulder, that way boys always do, and Jason let out a chuckle.

His girl. Yn was as much his girl as he owned the moon, and yet, he couldn’t make himself correct him.

“I just hope she will be fine.”

“I’ve heard she’s a strong one,” she chimed.

“Yeah!” he agreed with a smile. “My girl really is.”

Watching the two girls, he noticed Vanessa wipe Yn’s tears away, pushing her away then bringing her back into another hug that made Yn give out a teary laugh. She seemed to have calmed down, as no more tears ran down frenetically down her cheeks and her breathing seemed to have eased. Jason, then, decided to walk closer, with the other man trailing just behind. Yn soon took notice, as she gave him a smile as he approached.

“Are you gonna be fine?” Vanessa asked, rubbing a hand over her arm.

“I don’t know,” Yn answered. Her voice was weak, hoarse and fragile. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Jason noticed her chin restart to tremble, and he was about to hug her again if Vanessa wasn’t closer and quicker. Over her friend’s shoulder, Yn’s teary eyes caught his, staring at him sadly. Pulling away from the hug, Vanessa made an offer.

“I can make some space in my apartment for you. It isn’t big but I guess I make it fit, right?”

Giving her friend a soft smile, Yn appeared to agree.

“No!” Jason protested, louder than he had hoped. “I have a spare room. I was planning on fixing it for our baby, but you can stay there. It’s yours. Besides, it would be more practical,” he explained. “I can easily take you to appointments, or even for work. I wouldn’t mind. And when the baby arrives, I can help you with taking care of it.”

He eyed Yn hopefully. “C’mon. I’m the baby’s dad. I wouldn’t be right if I didn’t help you out.”

“I just don’t wanna be a bother,” Yn said.

“Yn, you could never bother me,” he stated.

Staring at her, Jason waited expectantly. He knew she was weighing every option and considering every mild detail. But he just wanted her to say yes. He wanted to have her near. It wasn’t just convenient, it was necessary. To him it was. To have her close meant to always know if her and the baby were alright, safe and taken care of. He wouldn’t worry if she had arrived home, or if she had gotten sick at work. He would know. Because he would be there.

Yn took her time thinking, while Jason agonized in his spot. He had built too much hope in such a short amount of time, he was scared of how he would be if she didn’t accept his proposal. After all, he was just the stranger she was having a baby with, not her best friend. But a response came out, eventually. Nodding shortly, Yn offered him a smile and a watery stare. A stare that said everything she didn’t need to voice, but that he caught anyway. Thank you.

“I’ll miss my neighbor,” Vanessa cried out, and hugged Yn tightly by her side.

“I’ll miss you too, nugget,” Yn returned. “But I’m sure Jason won’t forbid you from visiting me.”

“Would I even have the chance to?” Jason asked playfully.

“No!” they replied in unison, bringing out laughter out of the four of them. Even though the rain progressively got worse, finally, the mood had lightened.

Vanessa offered her jacket so Yn could get in the car without getting wet, and Jason was about to take her bags when Dale stopped him before he moved. “Take care of your girl, I’ll take the bags.”

Nodding in gratitude, Jason instead moved to your side. “Did you manage to get a lot? I mean, out of your apartment. Into your bags?”

Yn only shook her head.

“I can ask Mr. Emmons for the spare key and pick up some of your stuff,” Vanessa said, walking beside her. “He loved you, I’m sure he’d make that exception for you.”

“Are you sure?” Yn asked. “I really don’t wanna bother anyo…”

“Yn!” Jason and Vanessa scolded in unison.

“I’m sorry,” Yn let out a soft laugh. “If you want to, I won’t complain.”

It was past midnight when both Vanessa and Dale left Jason’s apartment. With them, four trash bags full of Yn’s stuff were brought in, and thus started Yn’s moving process. The girls worked on taking notes of everything that had come in the bags, and of everything there was missing. Vanessa was going to play dealer for a few days, and weirdly, she was very excited for it.

While they worked on the bags, Jason and Dale took a look at the spare bedroom. It was nearly empty, except from a few gym items and boxes laying around. With the other’s help, Jason cleared out the room, sweeping the floors and the spider webs off the walls. Also, he made a promise to find her a bed, somewhere. No one cared enough for dinner that night, and the pair left as nonchalantly as they had arrived.

“You can stay in my bedroom tonight. I’ll take the sofa,” Jason explained, once the two of them were alone. “At least until I can get you a bed.”

“It’s okay,” Yn reassured, and left him alone to take a shower.

While she readied to go to bed, Jason made sure he picked up everything he would need to sleep in the living room out of his bedroom. He didn’t want to bother her by coming in and out of it while she was there. He knew she was going to be uncomfortable enough for today, this new arrangement requiring time to get used to. So, he changed into comfortable clothes, prepped his makeshift bed with pillows and blankets, and waited for her to come out of her shower.

The faint water noises coming from the bathroom mixed with the storm sound coming from outside, creating a relaxing atmosphere he was grateful for after all the stress he’d gone through. He could only hope Yn felt as calm as he did now, that she wasn’t hiding any tears from him in her shower. But he knew it was asking for too much, she was not going to get over it this easily. She had cried a lot in the car ride to his apartment, and when he passed by the bathroom door he could hear her sniffles.

It killed him to see her like that. He’d do just about anything to make her stop hurting. Sat on the sofa, he thought about everything in his reach he could possibly attempt to do to ease her pain, but none of them were possible this late at night. However, as soon as the door opened and Yn came out, her hair wet and fresh smell spreading through the whole apartment, his thoughts emptied out to just her.

“I guess I’m going to bed now,” she shyly stated. Jason simply nodded, too stunned with how she looked in just a plain t-shirt and pajama shorts to form any coherent sentence. “Goodnight, Jay.”

“Good night, Ynie,” was all he said as he watched her close his bedroom door behind her.

“And Jay,” she suddenly reopened the door calling out for him. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

Her soft smile was genuine, adorable, and made his stomach spin. In normal circumstances, he’d have told her she didn’t need to thank him for anything. Tonight, though, he didn’t want to argue.

“You’re welcome,” he offered her a gentle grin. But I’d make this your home even if you had yours.

Upon his return to solitude, he hoped the sounds of the night would lull him to sleep. He was tired, and on any other night he’d have dozed off easily. However, tonight wasn’t the case. Even if he closed his eyes, even if he was curled up comfortably, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep. He continuously rolled and rolled until he got tired of trying. So he fished for the remote in the total darkness of the room, and turned on the TV, the volume on the lowest, to see if anything in there could make him sleepy.

He had found a cartoon. One of those late night, highly inappropriate ones, and actually found it to be mildly entertaining. But the creaking sound of the door was more interesting. Lifting his head slowly to look over the back of the sofa, he found Yn peeking out of his bedroom.

“Can’t fall asleep?” he asked, and she just nodded. “Come here.”

Sitting up, he made some space for her to sit  beside him, making sure he left her with the softest pillows. Adorably, she sat down and immediately pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging it protectively, and resting her chin on her own knees.

“What are you watching?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. However, his attention was now far gone from the TV. “I just put it on to distract me. See if I could fall asleep to it.”

Moments of silence followed. Yn’s focus on the cartoon, while Jason was fixed watching her. She looked so serene, it didn’t even look like she had just been kicked out by her own father. He wanted to ask her if she was alright, but he feared she would get mad with how much he had asked it since they’d arrived home. He also wanted to hug her, feel the comfort of her warmth and maybe fall asleep to it, but he knew it would be too much for one single day. So, he was content with the light brushes he’d get on her skin.

“Nessie told me what you did to my dad,” she said suddenly, and Jason got nervous about what she thought of it. It was still her dad, even with all the pain he had caused. He was afraid she’d be mad at him for it. So, he had to explain himself.

“He deserved it,” he quickly added. His throat was dry, but he still insisted. “He deserved it for what he did to you. I could not…”

“I get it,” she broke him off. “It just… feels weird. I’m glad you did, but also not.”

He understood.

“I was mad at him at some point, and thought of doing it myself. But he is my dad. I don’t think I could do it if it ever came to it. Even if I collected all the anger I harvested throughout my entire life, I couldn’t lift a finger against him.”

Her head moved, now facing him with her cheek laid on her legs. Her eyes were intense, but sad. Glowing, but it wasn’t happiness.

“I get it,” he told her. “I really do.” And he continued to look at her till it gave him courage to finally ask. “Was he this bad your whole life?”

She shook her head. “He had his good moments. Few, but they were there. We just had to be doing something he’d actually be happy about.”

“He’d always make us take the classes he wanted. Go to places where he liked to go, and where his ‘friend’ could see him, you know, boast about how great his family was. Even our friends he got to pick. They had to be from church, and from rich families. People we could fawn over, grow attached to like vines. I guess he thought if we were friends with them, he would become friends with the parents, and what better than rich friends for you to parasite, right?

“I don’t even know how he let me come to Gotham in the first place. He made my sister marry young so she wouldn’t go away for college, so I don’t know how he didn’t try that on me too. I mean, he did try, but none of the guys were actually interested in pursuing me for him to insist on it… What?” he questioned when she heard him scoff.

“Why wouldn’t they be interested in you?” he let out before he knew it. Yn shyly hid her face from him before continuing.

“I kinda looked mad all the time.”

“Oh, really,” Jason mused, earning a slap on his bicep.

“I was just… an angry teenager,” he gave her a look. “And young adult too, okay?” she let out a brief laugh. “I don’t know why, I just was. Am. I don’t know. They were just always up my ass, and I guess it got me riled up. I could talk back to them, he might have killed me if I did. So I just… I just…”

“Stocked up with anger?” he finished for her.

“Yeah, I stocked up with anger. And didn’t know where to let it out,” she said, and went quiet for a while. “Was your family as insane as mine?”

“Sorta,” he scoffed. “They are wild, but not bad.”

He didn’t want to talk much, but she looked at him curiously. Almost begging him to talk.

“I was adopted when I was nine. My father had already adopted my older brother, and after me he got Tim, Steph and Cass, and then he found out he had a biological son that is just like him and annoying as shit. I’ll tell you, Damian is a lot. He adopted a cow and just told Bruce to deal with it. Kid is insane. ”

The girl looked at him baffled. A cow? Where would a middle class kid raise a cow in Gotham?

“That sounds… fun,” she gave him a big smile.

“Really?” he wondered.

“My family never did anything out of the ordinary,” she stated.

“My family doesn’t know what ordinary means,” he joked. The two of them laughed, TV show long ignored. Jason never forgot how, when she wanted it, her company could be so pleasant. He felt like she really listened to him, that she didn’t think his takes or stories were just a joke or meaningless. He actually enjoyed having her around, and hoped moments like this would become more frequent with her habiting the same place as him.

“You know,” he found the confidence to start speaking again. “I lied to you… That day at the doctor.”

Yn eyebrows frowned in a questioning look, and so, Jason continued. “I… My birth parents. I know who they are.” 

He felt guilty that day. For lying so blatantly. But it was something too personal for him, something he hadn’t shared with many. It was a part of his life that still hurt him, even if years had passed, and he had finally gotten a new family. He wasn’t ready to share it then, not in front of a doctor, a total stranger. And he knew the risks of his lie. He was omitting important information for his baby’s health and future, but he wasn’t ready.  In fact, he didn’t even know he was ready now. But Yn had been so honest, so open about that part of her life, one he knew now caused her much pain, that he felt the need to offer something back.

It was Yn’s soft hum that broke him from his thoughts and made him continue. “They were addicts. Very poor. I know they did the best the could to raise me, but their addiction was unstoppable. My dad started working with bad people to put food on the table. Last time I checked on him he was in jail. Might as well be dead by now, I haven’t cared to look him up.” His voice came out low, timid. A lump tightened his throat, making it hard for him to speak, but he still insisted. “My mom… She passed away. I’m not sure if it was the drugs, or if she got sick. I just remember her looking really bad.

“I was on the streets for a while, stealing tires and other things, when my father found me. He took me home, gave me food, and I haven’t left there ever since. I mean, I have my own home now, and life wasn’t easy there either, but they still are everything I have. I guess that’s why I grew attached to you so fast… I-I mean, the baby. The idea of the baby. I think I just wanted to have something that is really mine, that I can say I was the one to build and care for. My own family. I just got excited, you know. Let me show you something.”

Avoiding the tears by a millisecond, Jason stood up from his place and went to his closet. There, in the same place he had left it ever since he had bought it, he took the deep brown romper, with cute little ears and an even cuter fluffy tail. He saw it just a few days after Yn came to his apartment with the news he was going to be a dad, just as the idea started to settle in. He hadn’t told his brother, nor his father. The idea just lingering in his head, and once he found it on-line, he had to get it. He proudly got his baby’s first outfit on a whim. But it was too perfect to let it pass, and it was on sale too. It must have been a sign.

Walking fast back to the living room, he dropped at her side on the bouncy cushion. “I got this on-line I think two weeks ago. I thought it was adorable and I just needed to have it. I saw so many babies wearing those on the internet that I couldn’t stop picturing my own baby in one of them. Strolling around, you know. Stumbling on his, or hers, steps, or crawling around in it. Like an actual bear,” he let out a laugh, admiring the garment in his hand.

When he turned to look at Yn, though, he found her eyes watery. Her chin trembled as she bit her bottom lip, an attempt at making it stop. Jason wondered if he had said something wrong. If he had hurt her unknowingly. His own heart started to beat like crazy, bleeding pain upon her painful expression. “Yn? Did I say something wrong?”

“No!”, she cut him before he could finish. She dried her eyes with her hand and continued, “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, Jay. I’m gonna head to bed.”

Placing a quick peck on his cheek, she might as well have run back to the bedroom.  Her sniffles, barely audible. She left him alone, to his own torturing thoughts of what he might’ve just done to make her react like this. Or was it just the hormones? Did pregnant women just act like this? 

No matter the answer, he stood in the darkness of the night and in the coldness of the rain. But the lingering burn of her kiss on his skin kept him warm, and could finally sleep soundly.

Sunday was quiet, and Nessie had spent the whole day by your side. Not much talking happened between you, her, or Jason. You just hung around, in silent company.

Jason, somehow, had gotten you a bed, and he and Dale, who had stopped by per Nessie’s request, built it in an instant. The room that was now to be yours wasn’t large, but it was enough. You had to learn to leave with enough now. Jason told you he would help you decorate as you wished, even though he had just painted the walls white in expectation of the baby’s gender. He sounded like he was full of ideas for a nursery, excitedly talking about items he had seen on-line or at stores. Nessie joked he might be the one nesting, and not you.

She left early this time, and your dinner with Jason was shared in silence. The two of them had tried to convince you to call in sick at work on Monday, to try to relax a bit more. Let your new reality sink in. But you knew you couldn’t. Sandra needed you, and you needed the distraction.

When morning came, the sun rays hit you straight in the face, the lack of curtains allowing the room to be bright and warm even if it was still early. You came out still in your pajamas, and immediately the smell of food filled your nose. The past few weeks of your pregnancy made you slightly wary of the smell’s potential to make you sick, but it was impossible to deny it smelled good and tasty.

“Good morning,” Jason greeted with a beaming smile. He seemed to be ready to head out to work. “I made you some breakfast. I’ve already eaten.”

“You got me feeling like a baby with all this food and stuff,” you commented. But it was true, he had been doing just about everything to make you feel comfortable and at home in his apartment.

“Hey! You are a baby,” he stated, and you scoffed. “At least while you don’t deliver my baby, you’re baby.”

You rolled your eyes at him, unable to hold back a smile. “Anyway, I have to go now. Are you really going to work today?” he asked. You just nodded. “Okay…” he breathed out. “If you need anything. And I mean, anything, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll be ready to answer you whenever.”

“You don’t have to worry, Jay,” you started, but one notification from your phone stole your attention briefly. “I’ll be alright. I promise.”

Jason looked at you as if he didn’t believe your words. His deep blue eyes boring into yours as if he tried to catch your lie in them. With a deep and long exhale, he accepted, or at least he pretended, that you would be fine without him. “Still, call me, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. “But I don’t think I’ll need to.”

Sitting on the island stool, you took a look at the meal he had prepared you. It really did look as delicious as it smelled. But you suddenly weren’t hungry.

You watched him pick up his bags, put on his shoes and leave. The guilt eating at your chest the entire time. He waved you goodbye with a large grin, happy to be starting his week it seemed. Yet, this morning, you struggled. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat with the notification staring right at you. A memory of your darkest hour.

Picking up your phone, you read it one more time.

Clinic girl Are you still going to schedule your abortion appointment?

It still stung as strong as it did minutes ago, when you first saw it on your screen. Your mind battled with the idea, even though you knew your answer very well. The smell of the food suddenly was making you sick, and your appetite, by this point, had completely vanished. Rubbing at your temples, you decided on putting an end to it.

You It won’t be necessary.

Putting your phone away, you got up to change. And you changed quickly, just like your life had done. Quick and sharp like an arrow, or an assassin’s blade. Changing everything in its course. Soon, you were closing the apartment’s door behind you, taking one last glimpse of what your life had become. Of what your future was going to be. You and him. Your baby soon to come in.

.

.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @amberpanda99 ; @capswife ; @erochuu ; @fairyeoll ; @gone-batty-fics ; @ichi-matsu-san ; @jasontoddslover ; @jaysgirlx ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @lacunaanonymoused ; @loonymoonystuff ; @lothiriel9 ; @marsbars09 ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin ; @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona ;

#jason todd au #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x yn #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd blurb #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader

[talkdutchtome]

Dress - Mason Mount

pairing . . . mason mount x reader )

genre . . . smut )

summary . . . mason mount had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, so why now all of a sudden was sleeping with him all you could think about )

song . . . dress- taylor swift )

warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, some light choking, fingering, some oral (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, use of petnames, not proofread )

word count . . . 2900 words )

a/n . . .this is my first ever smut so i apologise if it's not great but after mason's new ad i just couldn't not)

 Our secret moments in a crowded room  They got no idea about me and you  There is an indentation in the shape of you  Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo   

Mason Mount was your best friend. You had known him since childhood; your mums were friends, so you had grown up together. For as long as you could remember he would be by your side, your other half- purely platonic of course. Or it used to be platonic anyway. Over the last few months something had changed between the two of you, you didn’t know why it had or when it happened, but it did. It started with stolen glances; you’d find yourself looking at him differently than you ever had before. As lifelong best friends, there were occasions when you’d see each other in underwear; before you wouldn’t have thought anything about it, but now, you couldn’t help but look. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from his muscular legs, from the way his underwear pulled tightly across his crotch. Maybe you would have felt bad about looking at him like that if you hadn’t noticed him glancing at your chest when you wore a particularly low-cut dress. 

 After that, things progressed to lingering touches, there would be times that the two of you would be walking down the street and Mason would hold his hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you down the road. Sometimes at parties or clubs you would dance together, closer than any two friends should ever be, spurred on by Dutch courage. As the music throbbed through the floor and alcohol coursed through your veins, you and Mason moved together in a dance that transcended friendship. His hand found the small of your back, and the way he guided you through the crowded dance floor was different tonight, closer and more intimate than ever before. You could feel his warm breath against your ear as he whispered jokes and secrets amidst the music's relentless beat. Every step and sway seemed to bring you closer together until the only thing separating you were the clothes you were wearing. In that moment, with the electrifying chemistry between you two, you both began to realize that the line between friendship and something deeper was blurring, and with each synchronized movement, the unspoken truth hung heavy in the air, waiting to be acknowledged. 

You truthfully didn’t know how to explain your relationship with Mason. You weren’t more than friends, but you weren’t just friends either. Friends don’t look at each other the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. You didn’t even know if you wanted to be more than friends with him, the pair of you were so similar to each other, too similar sometimes; you weren’t sure if you would be compatible together. All you knew was there was so much sexual tension between the two of you it was making it almost impossible to function 

All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation  My hands are shaking from holding back from you  Ha, ah, ah  All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting  My hands are shaking from all this  Ah, ha, ha, ha-ah   

With all that considered, when Mason messaged you letting you know that a few of the Chelsea lads were going to a party tomorrow night and that you should come along, you knew what you needed to do. This had gone on for too long, so much had been left unsaid and you were sick of it. Maybe you wouldn’t be compatible in a relationship, but you didn’t want a relationship, you just wanted him. So on the day of the party you went out and bought sluttiest, skimpiest dress you could find; then you spent longer then you ever usually would getting ready. To put it bluntly, you looked good as hell, and you were ready to go and get your man. However, this effort seemed to be for nothing when you walked into the party to find a girl sat on Mason’s lap, whispering in his ear and peppering kisses on his neck. You felt completely thrown, of course Mason could do what he wanted, but you thought that this game of cat and mouse you were playing would ultimately ended with the two of you admitting what you want and getting it, it being each other. But it seemed like that wasn’t to be it seemed. It hurt, you couldn’t deny that, but you simply told yourself to get over it and find somebody else to scratch that itch.  

You found that person in the shape of Kepa Arrizabalaga. You knew from Mason that he was a bit of a ladies man, the kind of person to prefer one-night stands to a real relationship; he was perfect. It started with a bit of light flirting, you batted your eyelashes, laughed at his semi-unfunny jokes whilst placing a hand on his rock hard bicep. It didn’t take long for things to move on, both of you were aware of what this was so there was no need to beat around the bush. Soon his lips were on yours and he was leading the way to a spare bedroom. It may not have been what you came into this party expecting, but you certainly weren’t going to complain. 

Unbeknownst to you, Mason was across the room watching this whole scene go down. To say he was jealous would be an understatement, he didn’t know it until the very moment he saw you all over his teammate, but you were his. You were his and watching Kepa lead you away to a bedroom made him sick. He wasn’t stupid, he knew there was something between the two of you but to put it plainly, he was nervous. He wanted you and you wanted him; but what if after you had each other your friendship couldn’t recover. He had been friends with you for as long as he could remember, you knew him more than he knew himself and didn’t want to do anything that would risk your friendship. So he pushed his feelings down, he deflected everything he felt for you to another girl and it was going fine. Abby was fine, she wasn’t you, but she was fine. That was until he saw Kepa undressing you with his eyes, saw you reciprocating all of his flirty advances; it was in that exact moment that Mason decided he was done being the bigger person and ignoring his need for you. He wanted you and he was going to have you.  

Mason was hot on your heels, following the pair of you into the room. However the few seconds delay meant that when he burst into the room, he was greeted by the picture of you straddling the Spaniard, your lips attached to his neck.  

“Sorry to interrupt, Y/N I need to speak to you.” Mason said, staring at the pair of you, burning a hole into your back.  

“No Mase I’m busy go away” You detached your lips from Kepa’s neck to tell Mason to fuck off before promptly reconnecting them again.  

“Kepa mate fuck off I need to speak to Y/N” Mason said again, clearly not ready to give up. You sighed heavily and got ready to curse Mason out, telling him to leave you alone but were interrupted by Kepa. 

“Yeah, I think I should go” you heard the man underneath you say, prompting you to get up and let him leave. 

“What the fuck was that about Mason, I was clearly doing something?” You asked, really confused by your best friends outburst. He made it clear that he didn’t want anything from you so why should he be bothered if you go and get it from somebody else. 

“Kepa, Y/N? Why Kepa?” You got up from the bed and stood in front of him 

“Why not Kepa? I needed something and he was willing to provide. Who would you rather I chose?” You said, walking closer to him until you were only inches apart. 

“Me Y/N. I would have rather you chose me.” His words made time freeze. You could feel your own heartbeat race and you could hear his do the same. This was it, all of the build up from the last few months were coming to a head right here. You watched as his eyes scanned your body from top to bottom, taking in every inch of you, looking at you like he would never see you again. And then, after a pause that felt both like a million years but also milliseconds, his lips crashed onto yours. Your hands came to his hair instantly, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. At the sensation of you lightly pulling at his hair, Mason groaned into your mouth, making your pussy clench around nothing, desperate for him.  “Jump” he said, pulling his lips away from yours before planting them on your neck. You did as he said, wrapping your legs around his waist, his hands coming up to your ass immediately, giving it a rough squeeze.  

Say my name and everything just stops  I don't want you like a best friend  Only bought this dress so you could take it off  Take it off, ha, ha, ha-ah  Carve your name into my bedpost  ’Cause I don't want you like a best friend  Only bought this dress so you could take it off  Take it off, ha, ha, ha-ah 

He throws you on the bed carelessly, like he doesn’t have time for niceties, like if he took even a second longer than was absolutely necessary, he would blink and you would be gone. You watch as he takes of his shirt and then his trousers, leaving him stood there in his underwear. The way his hard cock strained in his underwear made you gulp; he was huge, you could tell that without even needing to see it.  

“Let’s get this dress off pretty girl” he said, his voice deeper than you had ever heard it before. He pulled you up so you were standing facing away from him. His hands go to your zip immediately. 

“You looked so beautiful today. This dress looks so good on you” He whispers in your ears, gently nibbling on your earlobe in-between each word. The words send shivers down your spine, causing you to let out a soft, barely audible moan. His rough hands pull down the zip of your dress causing it to fall to the floor. You could practically hear Mason’s jaw hit the ground when he noticed you weren’t wearing a bra. He spins you around immediately, his mouth going to one nipple, his hand to another. The sucking, nibbling and pinching made you feel like you were going crazy. It felt so good but you needed more, you needed him.  

“Please Mase” you said breathlessly, reaching out to palm his hard dick through his boxers. “I need you” He laughs at your neediness. 

“You need me do you? Why don’t you show me how much you need me” he said finally detaching his mouth from your breast before very gently pushing you down to your knees. Seeing the light and excitement in your eyes when you caught on to what he meant made Mason curse himself for waiting so long to do this. He swore he could see stars when you started placing small barely there kisses on his cock over his underwear. Then he swore he was going to pass out when you reached into his underwear, pulling his cock out and immediately licking a long stripe from the base to the tip before placing his whole manhood in your mouth. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat was a feeling Mason knew he would never be able to forget. Things got even better for Mason when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth.  

“Fuck baby you’re so good at this” Mason croaked out and his praise spurred you on, taking him even deeper into your mouth making him let out a guttural moan. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, desperate for him to touch you, desperate for him to fuck you. As if he could read your mind, Mason abruptly pulled himself out of your mouth, causing you to look up at him confused. The sight of you was a sight that Mason wanted to see every day until the day he died. On your knees, your lips swollen, and your lipstick smudged, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging to be fucked. 

“Lay on the bed Babygirl, I’m going to make you feel so good” he said, and you did as he asked immediately. You truly thought tonight couldn’t get any better, you were proved wrong however when he clambered onto the bed and settled his head in-between your legs and started leaving hot, open kisses on your thighs and over your soaking underwear.  

“I need you so bad Masey, fuck me please” you pleaded to him, garnering a laugh from the man in-between your thighs. 

“Be patient Y/N, I’ll fuck you in a minute, but I want to taste you first” That was it, that settled it; you had died and gone to heaven. Unable to contain himself, he ripped the thong off your body and marveled at how wet your pussy was. You wanted to curse him out for ruining your favorite pair of underwear but when his mouth made contact with your clit, you couldn’t think or see straight. The feeling on his tongue licking strips up your pussy, lapping up all of the wetness before attaching itself to your clit, was a feeling that made you forget your own name. It didn’t take long before you could feel the need to cum building up, the tension in your stomach being almost too much to bear.  

“Oh, fuck Masey I’m going to cum” you just about managed to get the words out in-between moans that sent shockwaves to Masons throbbing cock.  

“Cum baby. Cum and I’ll fuck your brains out” His words were accompanied by his tongue dipping into your pussy and his thumb coming up to rub circles on your overstimulated clit. It took seconds after that for you to reach your peak, letting out moans that could rival a pornstars.  

“Let me ride you” you asked Mason once you had ridden out your orgasm. Mason said nothing, he simply picked you up and flipped you, so you were on top of him, your legs on either side of him.  

“Fuck Y/N I don’t have a condom” Mason said, looking like he wanted to die, he needed you so badly, he really didn’t think he could walk away now without knowing what it feels like to be buried deep inside of you.  

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean” you told him and watched his eyes pop out of his head, clearly not able to believe his luck. 

“So- So am I” he stuttered out before crashing his lips onto yours. You reached for his cock, lining it up with your pussy. Mason hissed at the feeling of you slowly lowering yourself onto him and you felt tears fill the brim of your eyes, the burn of being stretched out being almost too much to handle. 

“You’re so big Masey, you fill me up so well” you said as the pain started to subside, being replaced with pleasure. After giving yourself some time to get used to his size, you started bouncing on top of him, moans spilling out of your mouth almost constantly, your hands resting on his chest, digging your nails into his skin.  

“My god you feel like heaven baby girl” Mason said through gritted teeth, one hand coming to massage your ass the other reaching up to your neck, not yet applying pressure but even the slight sensation had you moving faster on his dick, even more moans falling from your lips.  

“I’m not going to last long baby; I’ve dreamt of this for so long” Mason said breathlessly, moving his hand from your neck to your clit, before he started thrusting into you, taking control. 

“Cum on my dick and then let me fill you up. I’ll bet you look so pretty filled up with my cum” his words, the speed of which he was fucking you and his expert fingers got you to your point of release very quickly. You came harder this time, your pussy clenching around Mason’s dick like you were made for each other. He let you ride out your orgasm before flipping you around, so your back was on the bed, and started thrusting into you rough and fast. The scene of you on your back for him, tits bouncing up and down as he fucked you drove him crazy. His thrusts quickly became sloppy, a tell tell sign he was close, he brought his mouth down to yours, kissing you like a man starved as he reached his climax. You could feel his dick twitch in your over-stimulated pussy as he released himself inside you, his cum coating your walls. Exhausted, he collapsed onto you, his forehead pressed right against yours.  

“Why the fuck did we wait so long to do that?” 

There is an indentation in the shape of you  Only bought this dress so you could take it off  You made your mark on me, golden tattoo  Only bought this dress so you could take it off 

#mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount #mason mount fanfic #footballer x y/n #mason mount x y/n #footballer smut #footballer x reader

[writerpeach]

Morning Mating

IVE Yujin x m!reader

⚠ tags: smut, breeding, squirting, reverse daddy kink

7100 words

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

The sun would not be the first to rise today.

Even the thinnest bed sheet felt heavy wrapped around your sore muscles. You checked the damage, the usual—dark lipstick prints on your chest, bruises on your neck, and rope marks on your wrists. Rolling onto your back, you let out a deep sigh and stared up at the ceiling, getting lost in a sea of stars that didn’t exist.

Your first mistake was taking a glance to your right. Crumpled black silk sheets barely covered up the woman underneath as she sat up in bed with long, enticing legs poking through the other side.

Yujin—both the name you screamed and the woman you slept with last night. Also, the woman you slept with the night before. The night before that, too. Actually, she hadn’t spent a night without occupying the opposite side of your bed for the entire week. Another peek to your right—maybe her naked body being hidden this early in the morning was a blessing in disguise. Morning wood was already difficult enough to deal with as is.

When Yujin awoke, her pretty lips parted into a smile, waking you up better than the strongest cup of coffee ever could. Every time you woke up with her in your bed, you couldn't believe such an ethereal goddess existed. Her eyes looked up—those dazzling chestnut eyes that sparkled with a gaze so intense you drowned in them, before she offered the softest lips that kissed you and made the perfect start to the day. Yujin tasted the best before the sun came up.

“Good morning to you too,” she whispered, giggling gently when you kissed the crook of her neck beneath silken hair that flowed like a waterfall, hints of coconut wafting through the air. She let out tiny gasps as you trailed kisses along her collarbone before your path ended at her exposed shoulder. You stopped yourself before getting too carried away.

Yujin, on the other hand—always had other plans, tossing the sheets off her flawless body like the reveal of a brand new car, but with something far more valuable underneath. Your second mistake was not looking away as she flaunted her deadly, naked curves with unparalleled beauty that would give a supermodel self-doubt.

Looking up at the time was your third mistake—you sighed heavily. “I have to head to the office this morning.”

It was the most regrettable sentence you had ever spoken. You shouldn’t have said anything and should have just taken the day off. It wasn’t like work wouldn’t function without you. Yujin frowned faintly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The first traces of morning began to shine through the curtains, illuminating her pale skin.

“For what?” she asked, tilting her head while she laid on her side, fingers enticingly dancing over your bare skin.

“Someone has to pay for this luxury apartment you spend most of your time in. These bills aren’t going to pay themselves.”

Her brow furrowed, as though she was dissatisfied with your response. “No, no. That’s not going to happen. Daddy isn’t going to leave this bed until you fill my womb again. You only came inside me twice last night, and that isn’t good enough. But it sounds like daddy would rather work than breed me again…”

“That’s not it,” you said, another heavy sigh leaving your chest, but you didn’t have time to explain yourself.

“No, go ahead. Daddy can waste all day at work, but there won’t be anyone left in this warm bed when you come home.”

“Yujin—”

“Well? Shouldn’t you get going? Or have you come to your senses and you’d rather have my legs wrapped around you while you unload inside me again?”

It was impossible to say no to such a beautiful face, so Yujin took your silence as an answer and grabbed your bicep, pulling you closer and closer until you were curled up on top of her.

“Daddy won’t go anywhere, right? Just stay here. Stay here forever, daddy,” she said as her slender arms wrapped around your neck, her words more of a demand than a plea. There was no reason to argue after the warm embrace she offered, while her alluring eyes lulled you into a trance.

Yujin’s naked body had always given her an unfair advantage. Your eyes were drawn to every inch of milky skin, but stopped at her glistening shaved mound, and those thick, maddeningly beautiful thighs, which seemed to spread open at just the right moment.

“You’re still here. But my pussy is still empty. Don’t you see the problem, daddy?”

Before you could even come up with a useful response, Yujin cupped your face, drawing your attention away from her twice-fucked cunt and back to her intimidating gaze while she bit down on your lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood. Her taste lingered, and her kisses were barely kisses at this point, just an excuse to trap you between her lips, while ruffling her fingers through your hair.

"Warm me up when you fuck me this time, daddy. Don't just shove it in me. I’m not even that wet.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Bullshit. You’re always wet around me.”

That smarmy, confident smirk on her features meant you both knew she’d been caught in a lie, and you didn’t even need to look between her legs to call it out. Tangled fingers in your hair pushed you down to your destination, but you took a little detour to kiss every inch of Yujin’s firm, toned midriff, leaving hot breath on her hot body.

Her legs spread further, and your mouth watered at the magnificent view of her enticing cunt, pink flesh damp with arousal that would soon be yours to feast on.

“Make me feel good, daddy,” she ordered, as if you wouldn't seize any opportunity to do so. If Yujin wanted to be warmed up, then you’d make her extra warmed up. Starting with her thighs, those creamy, absolutely divine thighs, you put on a show of appreciating them, peppering them with kisses—first the left, then the right, before returning to where you began, repeating this until every inch became touched by your lips. It was a blessing Yujin had so much thigh to worship.

“Daddy loves my thighs, don’t you? You like it when I squeeze your head with them and suffocate you?"

“Yes, fuck yes, more than anything. I love your thighs mwah, so fucking much,“ you said, but it didn't matter how desperate you sounded as you licked every exposed inch of flesh you could find, you just needed more of Yujin. When you started making your way down towards her center, you felt those eyes watching your every move, urging you to not waste time.

"Then eat me out, and I'll squeeze your head as much as you want, daddy." With no time to spare, you placed a kiss on her lower lips, then licked up that beautiful pink slit, parting her wet, velvety walls with your tongue, abundant wetness finding your lips as you took a taste. Yujin squirmed impatiently while you took the time to explore her beautiful pussy, savoring her delicious sweet nectar—that unforgettable taste that you drank up, desperate for more, and made certain not to miss a delectable drop.

“Daddy, oh fuck, daddy,” she moaned, tossing her head back with a heavy gasp. Yujin tasted nothing short of heaven, a continuous flow of sweet and tangy juices that spilled onto your tongue like a broken faucet, each drop so addicting you couldn’t get enough. You craved Yujin more than oxygen, which was fitting, given that you would rather her luscious thighs smother you.

You carried on eating Yujin’s pussy as if your life depended on it and took fervent licks through her slippery folds until you reached her clit. She groaned, as your lips sealed shut around the sensitive nub, greedily sucking, and maintained eye contact, coercing more slick, messy juices from her sopping cunt. Yujin squealed in response, bucking her hips into your face and gave you what you earned until her thighs turned into earmuffs, providing the right warmth as each one wrapped around either side of your head.

At this rate, your mouth would never leave her cunt. You’d be content to go down on her for hours, even after your lips and tongue became numb and unusable. Now that breathing became secondary, you needed to devour Yujin’s pussy, desperate to taste as much of her as possible and inhale her appetizing aroma.

“Oh fuck, daddy! Nobody eats my pussy like you do. Nobody can make me feel this good. Don't stop, don’t fucking stop."

Her words of encouragement kept your tongue buried inside her warm hole while you licked every spot you could hit, setting every nerve on fire as you held steady pressure on her clit while she writhed underneath you. As you drank from the fountain of Yujin, she grabbed your head and pressed you deeper into her cunt, slender fingers tangled in strands of your hair that she violently tugged on, taking more and more pleasure from you.

“Daddy better make me cum. Make me cum with how good that fucking tongue feels, oh my god—”

Breathing wasn’t an option at this point. Neither were words, both a distant relic. Her eyes stayed locked to yours, full of pure lust, devoid of any innocence. You continued to drown in her juices as she tugged on your hair harder, threatening to rip strands out while her pretty mouth became a conduit for moans and obscenities.

Yujin crept closer to climax with every flick of your tongue, the steady squeeze of her delicious thighs wrapped around your head, encouraging your relentless oral assault. Her nails began to sharply dig into your skull, but you paid no attention to the pain, and only focused on pleasing Yujin. Every breath drawn grew heavier and heavier, a telltale sign of imminent release.

“Daddy, daddy, oh fuck, daddy! You’re gonna make me cum!” Even if the whimpering moans and whines were absent, you could tell how close she was by how frantically she chased your tongue, riding your face until her entire body shook, crumbling and falling apart at the seams.

Yujin was so desperately close—those incredible thighs held you captive while her back arched off the bed, eyes squeezed shut when she let out a guttural cry and hit her peak. Her orgasms were seldom quiet affairs, and this was no exception, as the loud screams and violent twitches her body provided never yielded while she turned your mouth into a waterfall of ambrosia.

Your tongue and lips on her core never let up until Yujin came down from her high, and she quivered at your touch, cheeks flushed and panted heavily. For the first time in several moments, you could take a breath, not that you would prefer that to the divine taste that filled your lips as her last wave of euphoria passed. Only then did the grip loosen around your head, a regrettable loss when you began cleaning up Yujin’s messy, honey-covered thighs.

“Daddy, you’re not done. I need more. You’ll give me more, won’t you? You always do.”

Yujin was right—she knew your major weakness was how damn whipped you were for her. One look into her glassy eyes and you couldn’t refuse anything she asked.

“Yes, Yujin. Of course I’ll make you cum again. I’ll make you cum as many times as you want,” you said, caressing her thighs and dipped back down to taste her pussy once more.

But before you could dive back in, Yujin pushed you away from the heat between her legs, leaving you with a cold emptiness. “No, don’t use your mouth. Make me cum on your fingers, daddy.”

Disappointing words, given that you were eager to consume more of Yujin's delicious cum, but you’d take any chance you could get to pleasure her in any way possible. She held her gaze, with eyes so round and sparkling that told you not to dawdle, so you didn't, and slipped a single finger inside her tight pussy that clenched, drawing you down into the hilt.

“More. More, daddy, make me cum again.” When Yujin gave an order, you never disobeyed. Your second finger joined in, both pumping in time with her rapid breaths. Her walls became so slick and slippery wet that every thrust swallowed up your fingers and only allowed withdrawal after they had been drenched with copious amounts of arousal.

“Oh god, daddy, that feels so good—faster, daddy, faster!” She didn’t even pretend to keep her eyes open while your fingers curled inside her, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. There was no point in holding back now, so your fingers drilled into her and filled the space within her, moving frantically as you could.

The more you pumped into that hot, wet abyss, the deeper her cries grew, and it became easier to bury two fingers inside her until you managed a third, making the wet squelch of her cunt more prominent. The rhythm stayed harsh, and your fingers remained drenched, but it would be all for nothing if you couldn’t make Yujin cum one more time, which wouldn’t be possible unless you had a sudden hand cramp.

Yujin had long outgrown groans, devolving into ear-piercing screams of ecstasy while her core ached for release, grabbing your wrist while she felt that pressure boiling in her center. The inescapable tension coiled with only one way to uncap it, and she was well on her way to doing so. Her thighs quivered, toes curled and dug into the sheets she couldn’t stop writhing on, until—

“Daddy!” she cried out, legs trembling out of control while her second orgasm forced your fingers out of her cunt with the strength of a broken fire hydrant, clear liquid violently gushing out and baptizing your upper torso. The sheets no longer became a place of rest, but a tarp for Yujin’s explosive climax that was sure to soak through your mattress.

Her legs refused to stop shaking, but the firm grip on your wrist meant you couldn’t stop either, not even while Yujin could hardly control any aspects of her body. You rubbed her clit in rapid-fire circles, determined to earn every last drop of pleasure that caused Yujin to continuously spray like a fire-hose, turning your mattress into a flash flood.

Yujin squirted all over you so many times that you lost count, but you savored being showered in her abundant cum as you furiously rubbed at her center until she tapped out. "No more, daddy. No more, please—"

Just a few more circles on her clit, until her orgasms became a kinked hose, turning into nothing more than dribble. You couldn't keep a grin off your face when you withdrew your hand from between her drenched legs, even if you needed a towel desperately after being caught in the downpour of Yujin’s sweet rain.

Regardless of the state the sheets were in, Yujin wasn’t bothered by the juices that had stained them, and remained as insatiable as ever, although she was on the verge of collapsing. Her eyes expressed it all—intense satisfaction, blissful exhaustion and gratitude while the deep red flush of her cheeks contrasted against milky white skin.

“Daddy, I’m warmed up. Fuck me.” she urged, breathless. “I need you inside of me.”

Yujin didn't even give you a chance to take another breath before pulling you back on top of her, stroking your ignored cock to full mast. “I need this inside me right now. You won’t keep me waiting will you, daddy?”

Shivers ran up your spine every time Yujin spoke that magical, double syllable word, her lustful voice dripping with seduction, making you eager to do whatever she wanted. She didn’t wait for an answer, and guided your cock against her enticing wet opening with a grip so harsh it became borderline painful—not that you would complain.

"Daddy's going to stuff this massive fucking cock into my tiny little pussy. Then you’re going to breed me—again, and again, and again."

With each word out of Yujin’s mouth, her tone became more laced with venom. You found it difficult not to comply—but you'd eagerly open your mouth for her to spit her poison down your throat. As always, she managed to pull you into her web, her deep desires becoming your own.

Yujin skipped the pleasantries—the teasing, the anticipation, the gradual penetration into her body that let you take in every morsel of her wet, inviting pussy. It was unfair, to be honest. Yet any complaints vanished in a flash when Yujin grabbed your hips and pulled you inside her. One stroke was all it took before you buried your shaft inside her overwhelmingly tight walls, making you gasp when you felt her hot silky flesh wrapping around your throbbing length that her juices soaked.

Under Yujin’s command, your hips moved as she directed your thrusts into her divine heat, but felt so wet that you might have slipped out without the clenching walls that wouldn’t let you escape.

“Balls deep, daddy,” Yujin demanded, and grabbed your ass to pull you in deeper. Her eyes were more hungry than usual, and nothing less would satisfy her. So you took no hesitation when you bottomed her out, with swift and fierce thrusts, while you held her slim waist and filled the space between her legs.

The ultimate challenge came after your first plunge into Yujin, when every throbbing inch disappeared into that wet, clamping heat that threw your senses off balance. After all, you made her cunt like this, so utterly drenched from the cyclone of pleasure unleashed on your mattress that fucking her like this, at the frantic rate she wanted was effortless.

“Daddy better fuck me harder. You’re not tired already, are you?”

“N-no, of course not. Just getting started,” you said, as you pumped into her slick hole at a much faster rate, pushing the tempo until it became dangerously close to unsustainable.

“Much better, daddy. You're going to blow your load inside me, but not right now. Not until I enjoy being fucked like a whore.” Despite your already exhausting pace, her commanding words added more fuel to your thrusts, and even though you wanted to preserve every ounce of stamina, you couldn't help but pound away into her as if your hips had lost control.

As she dictated your thrusts, you found it impossible not to get lost in her sultry gaze, or the moans and cries of pleasure that escaped her throat. The look on her face demanded your rapid pace never faltered, as did the two assisting hands that kept squeezing your ass, pulling you deeper and deeper into her body.

“Daddy better blast that load inside my tight pussy and pump all that hot cum into my womb. Fuck, I can’t wait to feel daddy’s cum dripping out of me again.”

The level of lewdness her words held nearly caused you to erupt right then and there. Almost. As much as you would have enjoyed such an abrupt early conclusion, you knew the next round would be a test of your resolve.

So you savored what you could while Yujin’s fingers gripped your ass tighter and caused dizzying spikes of pleasure that made your head spin while you took in heavy breaths, sweat accumulating on your naked bodies the harder your muscles worked.

“That’s it, daddy, fuck me hard just like that. God, you’re stretching me so well, you know that? Just keep fucking me like that until you cum, don’t even think about anything else. My pussy is going to drain everything out of daddy’s balls.”

After one last squeeze, Yujin’s soft hands left your ass, and to further emphasize her point—those perfect, long, luscious legs wrapped around your waist, forcing you deeper inside her slick core while her hands clamped onto the back of your neck, tugging you down toward her sweaty torso.

“Now daddy can’t cum anywhere but inside me.”

Not that you'd do anything else—but now all you had control over was the rhythmic motion of your hips, as Yujin’s legs and arms coiled around you tight, like a snake trapping its prey. When you buried your face into the crook of her neck, continuing your relentless plunges into that orgasmic wet warmth, Yujin clawed at your back, digging her nails into your flesh deep enough to leave rough marks.

"Oh my god, Yujin. Your tight little cunt makes my dick feel so good,“ you moaned, with unabated pumps that pushed you closer to the edge, the muscles in your thighs set ablaze while you chased release with more urgency than you ever had before.

“Don’t you dare hold it in. Hurry up and breed me, daddy. Fill me like you promised.”

One last push—her legs squeezed tighter while the dripping walls of her cunt swallowed you into the warm depths that refused to let go no matter what. The scratches etched into your back from her nails digging in deeper would take days to fade, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

“You’re gonna make me cum, Yujin. God, you’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard.” Past the point of no return, you let out the first in a series of deep guttural grunts when you buried your shaft into Yujin’s wet heat, frantically throbbing, and unloaded everything stored up in your balls.

Your desperate cries of pleasure weren’t solo while you emptied into Yujin’s impatient cunt—she joined you in vocalizing her own pretty moans when your hot seed filled her to the brim, and the way she clung on to you helped further extend your climax, ensuring your balls were more than emptied.

At the mercy of Yujin’s whims, all you could do in that moment was pump more cum into her, aided by the slick gripping walls of her cunt that welcomed every hot thick spurt filling her insides with copious creamy semen. The harsh twitches and throbs didn’t cease while her pussy desperately milked your cock dry, not letting a single drop escape, and even after that, you couldn't stop thrusting into her cunt, pushing your messy hot load further and further.

“Just like that, daddy. Fill my womb with that huge load, fill me up deep. Mmm, it feels so thick and warm inside my pussy.”

Yujin might be the only woman who could almost make you cum again just by words. But little by little, your hips slowed down until the rhythm was barely noticeable, and eased out of her cunt inch by inch, escaping her creamy folds.

Right when you left her sticky warmth, Yujin released the forceful grip her limbs held around your body, and sat up on the mattress at a perfect angle with thighs wide open. With her freshly fucked pussy lips spread wide open, you both watched your cum flow out of her—a slow-moving white waterfall flow that stained her thighs.

“Look how much you came inside me. Do you like watching your cum drip out of me, daddy?” she asked with panting breaths, dipping one finger into her cream-filled cunt and lewdly licking it clean.

Out of breath, you couldn’t collect enough syllables to respond, so a simple nod would have to suffice as you pulled away from her voluptuous body. When you laid down for a momentary rest, it was just that—momentary.

Yujin didn't leave your lap empty for long, straddling you right away and toying with your chest, fingers teasing your nipples. Your labored breaths took their sweet time to settle, but Yujin ruined your respite when she used her warm tongue to take a long drag against the side of your face, and nibbled on your earlobe.

Hot breath filled your ear, and soon after, so did her soft whispers.”You’re not done breeding me, daddy. I’m going to ride your dick until those balls ache, you better give me all the cum you have left.”

Once again, Yujin’s angelic voice left you in a questionable state of arousal as your eyes roamed her glistening, sweaty body, still able to see the remnants of your cum dripping from her pussy. Her towering stature made her appear like a true amazon goddess perched on top, but you had little time to soak in the scenery when her slippery lower lips began grinding on your shaft, kissing your cock and awakening your soreness.

“Y-Yujin, please, I’m still—”

“Sensitive?” Yujin asked, finishing your sentence with a bitter smirk between her lips that she put to good use, silencing any further protests when she kissed you—the first gentle kiss of the night.

“It doesn’t matter, daddy. You’ll keep making me cum on that cock, I know you will.”

After taking in a deep breath, you let it out slowly to brace yourself for what was to come. Yujin's devious stare wandered, but never left your sight, leaving you on the edge of your seat with anticipation.

You couldn't take your gaze away from her eyes the entire time she stroked your cock, every pump a jumble of pain and pleasure while she lined herself up and found the correct angle to lower her creampied pussy onto you. You both gasped and groaned, but it was impossible to tell who was the loudest.

“Oh my god, daddy—”

Those impossibly slick lips were difficult to deal with on a regular day, but in a post-orgasm haze, even the smallest movement delivered torturous pleasure and smeared the collective cocktail of arousal all over your sensitive shaft.

Quicker than your next heartbeat, Yujin sank down to the hilt without warning, letting her wet heat engulf your throbbing length. Her expression told it all—even with eyes tightly closed, you could see the obvious signs of how much she enjoyed the sensation of being filled.

“Daddy, you’re so big. I don’t know how I can fit all of you inside my little pussy,” she said, eyes widening whenever she hit the base of your cock. Maybe it was the fact that she was so goddamn wet, or how many times you filled her on a daily basis that you could have lived inside her tight warmth.

It started like it always did—quiet. Yujin kept those soft, frigid, perfectly manicured hands stationed on your chest, but they were never idle, even after impaling herself balls deep. They always held a purpose, either playing with your nipples, caressing your biceps, or tracing her name into your abdomen.

You knew the instant Yujin lifted her hips you’d be thrown into the deep end, and right on schedule, she did just that. But she stalled—like time froze, allowing you to see the sticky juices on your shaft when only the tip remained. That emptiness was short-lived as she slammed her plump ass on your crotch, using those impeccably toned legs to bounce on your dick, and gyrated her hips whenever she bottomed out.

“Daddy’s cock feels so good. I might ride you all night, your cock just feels too damn good to not be inside my pussy.” And the scary thing was you knew Yujin was serious, that she’d make you go the entire night without a break if she wanted to.

She took the most direct route, with forceful slams down on your cock that were anything but gentle. Already, you were feeling overwhelmed, as the tremendous sensitivity in your loins revealed itself at the worst possible time. But Yujin didn’t care—this was what she loved, what she thrived on, what she got off on. It put the proudest smile on her face to have you underneath her while she set the pace, even more so when she pinned your hands behind your head, giving that extra control that allowed her to do anything she wanted to you.

It was difficult to decide whether you liked such a relentless pace, but you had little say in it when the harsh bounces on your cock were harder to handle than usual. But it still felt good—it always felt good, even after pushing through the agony. Yujin used those wide heavenly hips like she needed to prove her dominance, as if you wouldn’t fold like a deck of cards at the simplest command.

“Please, Yujin, p-please, slow down,” you pleaded, knowing your efforts would be in vain, knowing she would get off on your desperation.

"My pussy too tight, daddy?" she mocked, tilting her head, with no intention of slowing down her brutal pace. Her innocuous question needed no response, but you were too much of a coward to give one, anyway. So she took your entire length with ease, too preoccupied with fucking herself on your glistening length to worry about anything else as every inch slid in and out of her hot, slick center.

Thankfully, the ache in your balls began to fade as Yujin rode your cock, and your state of ecstasy reverted to nothing but waves of pleasure for you to bathe in. “Oh god, Yujin. This feels so good. Your pussy feels so fucking good. You’re so fucking wet and tight, it’s driving me crazy.”

“I know,” Yujin replied with a smug smile, and you weren’t telling her anything she didn’t know, but it still caused her to bounce that round, plentiful ass on your cock at a significantly higher rate while her thighs jiggled to the beat of every stroke.

“You like that, daddy? Do you like me riding your dick this hard?” she asked, those ceaseless bounces she made encouraging your thighs to slap against hers, creating a symphony that you could listen to forever.

“I love it, my god, Yujin. I love it when you ride me like this. The way your tight cunt squeezes my cock so much, fuck—” Never before in your life had you been so content to be this helpless. It was the little things that added up and made you breathless—how Yujin changed the angle she rode you from squatting over your dick to leaning back enough so you could watch your cock disappear while she held your thighs to help fuck herself.

Then there was your favorite variant—the way she rode your cock with reckless abandon while dominating your lips, wrapping those long fingers around your throat and squeezing hard enough to leave you actually breathless.

“Don’t worry, daddy, I know what makes you feel good. I’ll ride your big cock until your balls empty inside me again. And maybe I won’t stop after that. I’ll keep going. I’ll keep riding you until there’s not a single drop left to drain.” There was almost a cackle in her voice. It was arousing, if not a little fear-inducing, knowing she could go on indefinitely, draining you even after the sun came up, using you as an outlet for her indomitable libido. But you wouldn’t fight it—you’d let her use you as long as you had a purpose, even if that purpose was just a hard cock for her to cum on.

“Yujin…” You were suddenly at a loss for words, reduced to nothing but the most desperate groans, a vessel for pleasure under the spell of a merciless rhythm. It was never easy to keep up with her, to match her vivacious energy and insatiable lust, but somehow you managed—for now. After all, there were no real consequences here. Your balls had already been emptied once, so if you repeated it before Yujin took her own climax, she'd just ride you until you could return the favor.

And at this point, it might have been a photo finish to see who could orgasm first. It wasn’t a competition, but even if it was, you’d be too hypnotized by the way Yujin stared down at you to put out any effort. The grip around your neck became tighter while she observed every reaction you made, tracing droplets of sweat with her thumb, as her hips gained more and more momentum until it became almost unbearable to handle.

“Yujin, god, I’m gonna lose it I swear—” Maybe it was the restricted airflow, the heat in the room, or the clenching walls that hadn’t taken a breather from suffocating your aching shaft for the past several minutes, but you felt light-headed, delirious from bliss, with exhaustion creeping up.

But the delicate hand that wasn’t choking you caressed the side of your cheek, and snapped you out of it, forcing your attention back to reality, to the jarring noises of slapping flesh that filled the room and the painful realization that time was always your worst enemy.

You took it all in—the violent pulsations that her cunt made, and the moans that filled your eardrums as Yujin’s tense body craved release. She could cum on your cock at any moment, not a matter of if, but when.

Yujin kept up the vigorous use of your body, grinding her hips back and forth while she slammed down hard on your cock, chasing the inevitable. “Almost there, daddy, fuck!”

At that moment, you didn't care if Yujin forced you to pass out from a lack of oxygen, as her hand wrapped around your throat tighter than a collar on the last notch. The only regret would be not seeing her gorgeous face when she climaxed. But thankfully, you stayed conscious as her pussy pulsated in waves, the supple cheeks of her tight ass bouncing with such intensity, you almost beat her to the finish line.

Down to the wire, you tried everything you could to stay behind, grasping fists full of sheets, gritting your teeth, but your willpower was shattering like broken glass.

Just hold out. Hold out a little longer.

The chant in your head was easier said than done, especially when the glistening set of pink lips gripped your shaft like they were testing you, daring you to take your climax first.

“Oh my god, daddy—I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum hard on daddy’s cock, fuck!”

You fought longer than you thought possible until Yujin achieved what you both desired. When her eyelids grew heavy, unable to stay open, the grip on your throat tightened, her moans grew into shrieks, and her entire body trembled as the bed frame rocked with her.

It wasn’t quite as powerful as the previous orgasms from before, but you could still feel Yujin’s slick juices spilling everywhere, her warm walls constricting the hardest they had around your cock, rewarding you for your patience.

“Please, daddy. Cum inside me, breed me, please breed me. I need everything in your balls emptied inside my pussy. You’ll do that, won’t you? Daddy deserves to fill me, daddy deserves to breed me.”

Even as Yujin begged and pleaded, everything that left her lips still sounded like demands. Those two words breed me repeated over and over became an incantation, and finally—you reached the breaking point and spilled your seed into her warm cunt.

Yujin’s eyes opened back up and widened, followed by the brightest smile on her face as she took the last few bounces on your dick. Her fluttering walls milked you once more, as the rhythmic throbs your shaft made delivered a second serving of semen, flowing into her pussy like it was meant to be there. It was the biggest sense of relief; the tension floating away, becoming a loose balloon lost in the wind, and you swore you never came this much in all your life. Yujin’s lustful eyes watched in astonishment every second that she drained you.

But she kept going—riding your cock at the same careless pace, selfishly fucking herself into another shuddering, thigh-quivering orgasm. That devious smirk showed itself again while you squirmed helplessly underneath her as the post-orgasm torture set in all at once.

“Yujin, p-please! No more, I can’t—”

Saying nothing, Yujin made continuous slams that impaled herself to the hilt each time with unknown intentions as you endured every moment of painful pleasure, the twitches and throbs of your cock screaming in protest. Her hips rolled in full circles at the end of one stroke, then gradually lost speed, until she mercifully came to a complete stop.

“Daddy can’t take it anymore?” she asked, her tone settling somewhere between joking and mocking. You shook your head, laying there limp, every muscle in your body groaning in agony.

“Don’t worry, daddy. You filled me plenty.” Yujin gently lifted her body until your cock flopped out of her, and her pussy demonstrated by leaking out the thick dripping creampie that filled her to the brim.

“Fuck, even after I drained you, it’s still so thick. I love the way daddy’s cum feels inside me. So fucking warm—I can’t have any more, right daddy?” she asked, releasing her hand from your throat, then stroking your tired, sore, hypersensitive cock, and gave your balls a squeeze, ensuring she extracted every little last drop from you.

“N-no, please, no. Not right now,” you begged. Two loads taken from you were enough, and if she made you cum again—you'd actually pass out from exhaustion. So for now, Yujin showed satisfaction on her features, as she played with the load inside her cunt, pushing it in deeper, before once again sampling it from her fingers.

“That’s too bad, daddy. I’m so wet just thinking about when I’ll get to milk that cock again.” It was always difficult to comprehend the not-so-innocent words that came out of an innocent creature like Yujin, but then again—she was the furthest thing from innocent. While you waited for your breathing to calm, Yujin grabbed one of your hands, interlocking fingers, as the other ran through your hair and then she kissed the side of your cheek.

“Come on, daddy. Let’s go shower.” So casually she said it, like you could even get up from the cum-stained mattress or still feel the use of your legs. Yet you wondered if you would actually end up clean in there, or if this was a poor excuse to fuck another load into her. As if your balls even had any cum left in them. But the thought of hot water running against your sore muscles did sound appealing, so you mustered what little strength you had left and followed Yujin, watching the hypnotic sway of her hips as your cum still dripped down those perfect thighs.

✦ ✦

“Just relax, daddy.”

It would be difficult not to when hot water flowed down your back, easing the tension out of your muscles. Yujin’s tight frame pressed up against you, helping massage and soap up your body.

“Daddy looks so good naked,” Yujin purred, while she moved over to your back, kissing your shoulder, your neck, then tilted your head to the side, granting access to her sweet lips. You weren’t sure if it was a genuine compliment, or just an attempt to stir up your loins, or both—but you’d take it either way.

“Not as good as you do, Yujin.” You could feel her smile against your lips, as she then grazed her nails over your abdomen, and you half-expected her to grip your cock, but she spun you around to let your eyes take in the wet nakedness of her absolutely divine body. And what a view it was—absolutely breathtaking.

“Daddy, you’re staring,” she teased, while you moved strands of wet hair away from her forehead. It was hard not to. It was hard not to pepper her wet body with kisses, hands around her tiny waist, capturing her those soft lips in a delicate embrace—but kisses were all you had energy left for, using the hot water flowing down as the ideal backdrop. So thankfully, your shower became little more than a means of cleaning up.

You both stepped out squeaky clean, towels hung up, bodies dried off, with fresh linens on the bed, even though the same clothes stayed left sprawled out on the floor. Finally, your first moment of rest came when you laid on your side, nuzzled beside Yujin’s nude body with a hand wrapped around her waist, tucking your head into her shoulder. She insisted on keeping your cock inside her warm cunt, a pleasurable warmth better than the most luxurious blanket, and you insisted on kissing every spot your lips could find.

“Daddy…” she murmured, and you had almost fallen asleep before she interrupted your journey to dreamland. Nestled against her neck, the scent of her freshly shampooed hair smelled lovely, and even though it was your shampoo she used, it smelled much better on her.

It hadn’t been that long since the sun had risen, yet it felt like Yujin had been draining you the entire morning. You made an effort not to make much effort, partly because you didn’t have enough stamina to start another session, and partly because your muscles ached with fatigue. Having Yujin’s pussy warming your cock was far preferable to using any more strength than was necessary.

“Isn’t staying inside me much better than staring at screens or whatever boring things you do all day, daddy?” A simple answer for sure, but it was dangerous how you could dodge responsibilities so easily whenever Yujin wanted. Still, if you wanted to—you couldn’t exactly go in with marks all over your body without some clever explanation, not to mention you felt like you could sleep for several days straight at this point.

“Yujin, I…” You forgot what you were saying—which wasn’t that difficult, especially with your shaft buried in her warmth.

“Yes, daddy? I can feel you twitch. Are you ready to go again?” she asked, and you could hear the teasing laughter in her voice. The temptation was strong, but so was the weakness in your body. You sighed, and the rest of your thoughts vanished. “No, it’s—nothing.”

“Then maybe you should get those balls full again. And maybe I should throw away this stupid birth control. Time to make daddy a real daddy.”

“Yujin.” Your breath hitched as you tried to speak, but no more words came out.

“What, daddy? Don't you wanna knock me up and make my tits nice and swollen? Nobody can fill me up like you can.”

She led your hand down to her belly, rubbing it in circles, as if she could see the future.

“Anything you want, Yujin," you said with zero hesitation.

“Rest up, daddy. The next time you breed me, it'll count. All that seed is going straight to my fertile womb, every last drop."

#ive smut #kpop smut #reader insert #male reader #yujin smut #izone smut #kpop fanfic

[space-invading-pigeon]

Roommates au but better ✨✨✨

Steve and Eddie have a nice routine. They go to their separate rooms, Eddie to work on his latest game (Vecna's Curse; he doesn't know why Steve freaked out the first time he heard about it) and Steve to try to sleep. On a good night, that's it; on a bad night, Steve will wake up screaming and it can take anywhere from a few minutes to an hour for Eddie to calm him down.

They'll wake up sometime later, Steve will prepare for work, and Eddie to get some coffee before he starts working on his game again. Steve leaves, Eddie works and then babysits their neighbor's daughter until Steve gets home. Then, they'll play with her for a few hours, and once her dad picks her up, they'll eat dinner together. Sometimes they watch a movie, sometimes they play a game, and sometimes (if it's been stressful for either of them), they'll lay on the couch cuddling.

***

Their routine is disrupted one night by a pounding at their door. It had been a good night, one where Steve had been so relaxed that he had fallen asleep on the couch and had to be carried to bed. Eddie was angry at first: the last time they had a late night visitor, it was Mrs. Ryans trying to "catch him in the act" of vampirism.

So Eddie goes to the front door, holding Steve's favorite carving knife, and swings it open, fully prepared to tell an old lady where to shove it, but instead comes face-to-face with a teenage girl. Her hair is pulled into a tight bun, out of her face, which is set in an unimpressed glare. "Get out of my way," she snarls, shoving her way inside. Eddie is so surprised by this turn of events, he doesn't quite react until she's already storming through the apartment.

"Steve!" She shouts, and that really spurs Eddie to act.

"Shhh! He's sleeping right now, little girl, don't wake him up!" But the teen whirls on him, pointing one perfectly manicured finger at him.

"I'm not here for you, I'm here for your boyfriend. You're just a supporting character, and I will see him. Now." She says, her voice harder than before and trembling slightly.

"Erica?" Steve's voice called from the hall. "What are you doing here?"

At the sight of Steve, the teen- Erica, presumably- loses some of the tension in her posture and breezes across their living room to throw herself into a hug. Eddie feels like his face is just one big question mark.

"They said I can't go back," she huffs from where her face is buried in his shoulder. Steve seems to soften at that, and wraps her up in a hug.

"What happened, little rogue?" Eddie hears Steve ask, and with that, Erica melts, tearfully recounting the fight she'd gotten into with her parents and visiting grandparents, how she'd been all alone because it was during the semester and Lucas was in the city, and how she couldn't go to Lucas because she didn't want him in the middle of it.

After a long crying session, Steve and Erica settle on the couch while Eddie makes them hot cocoa. Steve manages to cheer her up considerably by reminding her about something that happened in their past (he says something about Starcourt, how nothing could be worse than that), and when Erica excuses herself to use the bathroom, Steve explains the situation to Eddie.

"She's one of mine," he says. "Some... Really bad stuff happened in my hometown, and her brother was a part of it. She ended up being dragged into it when she was eleven. I- I have to take care of them, they're my kids. I promise she won't be any trouble, she can take my room and I'll sleep on the couch-"

"Sweetheart, please. She can sleep in my room, I'll just share with you," Eddie decided promptly. "I like your bed better, anyway. If she's yours, she's welcome here."

Somehow, Eddie wakes up in Steve's bed with Erica cuddled up between him and Steve; she's changed out of her own clothes and into his pajama pants and one of Steve's high school shirts. He's convinced he should be annoyed, but the girl looks almost innocent when she's asleep and clinging to Steve like he's a teddy bear.

#eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things headcanons #eddie and steve #roommates au #erica sinclair

[satanprotectsme]

Baby's First Heat

Alpha!Eddie Munson x Omega!Reader - Smut

A/N This is the first smut I'm posting onto here so I really hope it's okay!! There isn't much plot... but who cares!

Summary: With Eddie being a couple years older than you, he presented as an alpha a while ago. Along with your presentation as an omega, came your first heat. Eddie's there to coach you through it.

Warnings: A/B/O, pain kink, biting kink, piv sex, oral f!receiving, breeding kink, established relationship,

wc: 1.5k

⛧⛧⛧

I wasn’t been able to lull myself to sleep at all last night, my body incalescent. I tore my nightgown off, assuming it was just another torrid, Indiana night, until it got worse. There was hot, sultry, slick pouring out of my pussy. I reach my hand between my legs. I had no clue what was going on with me, but it was 2 in the morning, and that was the solution.

But now it's about 10 am, and I've been rubbing my dripping folds for hours. Mewls wrestling their way past my lips, racking my whole body along with them. I shove my face into Eddie's worn out Metallica t-shirt, tightly clamping my thighs together.

He only goes to school like, once a week, and it had to be today? My phone ringing startles me, making me hurtle myself out of bed. Pulling it to my ear, the voice on the other side makes even more slick pour between my legs.

"Sweetheart? You told me you'd be at school today, where are you? I only came to see-"

"Eds," I breathe. "Please come over, need you s' bad."

"Being horny is not an excuse to not come to-"

"I think I-I presented Eddie, please, it- it hurts so fucking bad," I sob, my biceps quivering at my feeble attempt to hold myself up.

"Oh shit, I knew something was up last night. Give me ten minutes, tops," the phone buzzed as he hung up. I couldn't hold myself upright long enough to place it on the reciever, the coil keeping it from slamming against the floor.

God, how could ten minutes feel like years? My humility dead and buried six feet under, I start to rut my weeping cunt on the duvet. My clit's red and raw, the knit fabric creating a throbbing feeling on my heat . Clamping the ear of my big teddy between my teeth, I try to hold back the pathetic noises from leaving my lips.

When I hear a tap on my window, I squeak. I reach over and unlock it, my body not having enough power to push it open for him. He crawls through, hurridly kicking his boots off.

"Fuck, your slick smells so sweet, nectarous, sweetheart " Eddie sighs, pulling me close. With one hand tangled in my hair, and one on my mound, he pushes me to the bed. “Shoulda’ called me earlier Omega, what if another Alpha smelt you from outside?”

“S-sorry Eddie,” I whine softly into his ear, he laughs softly.

“I bet you’d let any Alpha in here to satiate you, to imprint you with his scent, yeah?” He caresses my thighs, awaiting my response.

“No Alpha! Only wan’ you Eds, you‘re the only Alpha I want please!” I wail, grabbing his head and pulling him into me.

Our lips slam together, our teeth clashing in the process, but care and inhibition were thrown out the window. My heads fuzzy. Eddie’s musky, forest scent coalesces beautifully with my sweet, vanilla aroma, emobodying our dynamic. Unravelling our lips, they drift down to my neck, not hesitating to sink his canines into the flesh. His tongue traces the marks buried in my flesh. Deep, chocolate eyes, hazy with lascivousness, gaze up at me. "Can I taste you, baby?"

"Please Alpha! 'S all I want, please!" I whine, wrapping my fingers into his hair. Eddie pulls his jacket off and brings himself face level to my folds. As slick pours out of me, Eddie presses his face against my thigh, inhaling my aroma. He sucks a small, violet mark into my inner thighs, running his tongue higher and higher until he reaches my heat. When he flattens his tongue against my pussy, I can't help but to squeal, pushing Eddie's head closer to my cunt. A single tear rolling down my face, I wrap my legs around his head.

"You taste so fucking good, my Omega, taste even sweeter than you smell," He sighs before sucking my clit between his lips. His saccharine words make more slick release from my cunt, my body behaving without input. Pushing two fingers between my folds, his tongue flicks my clit back and forth in a hypnotic pattern. A moan gets caught in my throat when I feel his fingers bruise my g-spot.

I couldn’t tell if it was because of my desperate frenzy, but this was the best head he’s ever given me. With my hands tangled in his curls, I tug on his hair. He growls and bites down on my clit. I whimper and wrap my legs around his head.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum my alpha! Can I? Please?"

"Of course my Omega, cum all over my face," The second I process his permission, slick pours from my folds as I howl, grinding my cunt on his lips. My cum squirts from between my folds, spattering all over Eddie's face. He moans, eyes rolled back into his skull. "Good girl, my sweet and perfect omega."

"Thank you Alpha!" I pull him by his hair so I can press a hot kiss on his lips, something that had been overlooked until now. When my tongue tangles with his, I can taste my own cum. I whine into his mouth. He pulls away from me, unbuckling his belt. The second his clothes are off, I'm pulling him back into my embrace, yearning for the feeling of my alpha's skin against mine. He grinds his cock against my soaked thighs. I hold his shoulders, pushing my hips into his.

"You want this cock, Omega?" He growls into my ear. I whimper, hastily nodding my head. “Use your words, gorgeous.”

"Please Alpha! It hurts so bad! I need ur big cock stuffed inside of me! Need you to knot me and fill me with your babies! Please!” I beg and plead. Eddie just chuckles and starts pushing the tip in, finally mounting me. The insert definitely burns, his dick stretching my cunt to its limits, but the slick helped him slip in. When his sack pressed against me, he stills, licking away the tears that are streaming along my hot, roseate complexion. The hormones blurring his judgement, Eddie immediately starts thrusting his cock in and out of my cunt. The pornographic squelching sounds are almost as loud as my moans.

Enfolding me in his embrace, I scratch my nails down Eddie’s spine, he growls in my ear. My face buried in his neck, his musk deluging my senses, a thick fog clouding my senses. Barely holding my eyes open, I pull myself back, wanting to stare into Eddie’s eyes. His salacious gaze keeping me still, a smirk drawn perfectly on his lips. A primal growl leaves his lips as he reaches down to rub my clit.

"You're doing so good my little Omega, being such a good girl for her first heat," Eddie praises me. I nod, wanting to thank him, but all I can do is babble with each thrust of his hips. "Want me to mark you up? Imprint you so no other alpha will ever come near you? Want everyone to know you belong to me?"

"Please Alpha! C-claim me! Mark me with your scent!" I wail. A carnal, animalistic howl rips through Eddie's chest as he grips my waist, pulling me down onto his cock. I replace his finger, that was once on my clit with my own. "Fuck, Alpha! Can I cum? W-wanna cum all over your dick. Want you to fill me with your knot, please!"

"Cum for me, omega, gonna fill you up. My scent is going to be leaking off of you for days," With his permission, the speed on my clit is hurried, trying to rush myself to the edge.

"Thank you Alpha!" I moan, holding him close as I convulse. Wrapping my legs around him, I enclose him between my thighs, clasping him as his knot expands inside of me. Gasping for air, but it's all thick with aphrodesia, syrupy and saccharine with our mixing scents. A goofy smile takes over Eddie's lips, a stark contrast to the pointed smirk he's been wearing since he got here.

"We- uh- might be stuck here for a while," He chuckles, petting my hair. I look down, his knot bulging in my stomach. Eddie presses down on it, making me whimper and turn my head away from him. He leans down, whispering in my ear. "You're all mine now, my sweet, little omega."

"Just wan- be yours," I babble, my brain still incoherent, just happy to be claimed. "Thank you Eds," I whimper, a little smile matching my cloudy eyes.

"Of course sweetheart, but you'll have plenty of time to thank me, I don't think I'm leaving for the next few days."

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader smut #stranger things 4 #stranger things #corroded coffin #st fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x metalhead!reader #metalhead #goth #fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x female reader #alpha!eddie munson #alpha!eddie munson smut #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader smut #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | teen | wc: 790 | tags: established relationship, former jock Steve, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, in fact he's so in love he would do anything for love | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy (@forgottenkanji) | AO3)

At first glance, Steve and Eddie weren't meant to be.

At first glance, they were two opposites, one the antithesis of the other. While Steve was the sun, Eddie was the moon. Day and night, summer and winter, light and dark.

But despite all the differences between them, they still worked. They complemented each other, creating a precious balance that made them both better. It's as if they only made sense with each other by their side.

There was only one difference between them that tested their love for each other: Steve's love of the outdoors and Eddie's utter hatred of it.

Steve, a former jock with a physique to match, found solace in the rugged beauty of nature. He relished the adrenaline of a challenging hike, the satisfying burn of muscles pushed to their limits, and the sweet exhaustion that followed a day spent under the open sky. Eddie loved that Steve's body was a true testament to his enduring love of the outdoors: the sun-kissed skin with constellations of beauty marks and freckles an invitation for adventurous hands and lips, his thick thighs and impressive stamina God's apology for Eddie's hardships.

Eddie, on the other hand, had always lived a different kind of life. A theater kid at heart, he thrived in the world of imagination and creativity. Dungeons and Dragons was his favorite realm, where he spun tales of fantasy and daring escapades. Physical activity, however, was a realm he hadn't quite embraced.

Early Sunday mornings were his sworn enemy, and the thought of a hike sent shivers down his spine. And yet, it was exactly what he had apparently agreed to do.

The soft morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room that Steve and Eddie shared. Steve, already dressed in his hiking gear, couldn't contain his enthusiasm for the adventure that awaited them. He leaned over and gently nudged Eddie, who was wrapped in the warmth of the blanket.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Steve whispered, a grin playing on his lips. "Time to rise and shine. We've got a beautiful hike waiting for us."

Eddie groaned, a muffled protest escaping from beneath the covers. "Can't it wait? It's Sunday morning, Steve. I need my beauty sleep."

Steve chuckled, his fingers lightly tracing circles on Eddie's back. "Come on, love. The early bird catches the worm, or in our case, catches the breathtaking sunrise over the hills. Trust me, it's worth it."

Eddie peeked out from the covers, one eye squinting against the morning light. "Can't we catch the sunrise from the comfort of our bed?"

Steve's laughter filled the room. "As tempting as that sounds, there's something magical about witnessing it from the top of the trail. Plus, fresh air and the sounds of nature – it's the perfect way to start our day together."

Eddie sighed dramatically, dragging himself into a sitting position. "You and your love affair with fresh air. I swear, it's a conspiracy against my cozy Sunday mornings."

Steve leaned in, planting a soft kiss on Eddie's forehead. "I promise it'll be worth it. And hey, I'll even let you pick the playlist for our drive to the trailhead."

Eddie's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Anything I want?"

Steve nodded, a playful glint in his eye. "Anything. As long as it gets us up and moving."

With a theatrical sigh, Eddie finally relented. "Fine, fine. But you owe me breakfast at that little café we passed last time. And I get to pick what we do for the rest of the day. Deal?"

"Deal," Steve agreed, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Now get dressed and let's make this Sunday morning one for the books."

As Eddie reluctantly began to accept the idea of leaving the warmth of their bed, he let the warmth of Steve's smile envelop him instead. It wasn't that he suddenly liked Sunday mornings or breaking a sweat for anything other than what he had planned to do with Steve once they were back here in their bedroom. He knew he would hate the burning in his legs and lungs every step of the way, but all that seemed like a small price to pay for Steve's joy and happiness. What was an early morning and the discomfort of working his untrained body for a few miles if it meant sharing moments with the person who made even the earliest of Sunday hikes something Eddie would look back on fondly.

So when they finally reached the top of the hill, Steve turning to him with sparkling eyes and asking, "Didn't I tell you? It was all worth it," Eddie couldn't help but kiss him, long and deep and sweet.

Everything was worth it for Steve.

#steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 29 #Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy #my writing

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Dou you still write for fenrys? If you do, can we get some fluff? Everything you wrote about him is absolutely PERFECT!! But ofc, take your time❤️❤️

Hard days

warning: some tog spoilers, loss of a family member, grief.

You had taken shelter in one of the rebuilt cities once Aelin had rightfully claimed her throne. The court was filling up way quicker than expected. The city growing and expanding every day. You had come there with hopes of a better future as well. Full of hope. Full of longing for something better. You had a little shop of your own. Kindly gifted by the queen herself. It wasn't anything big, you just loved sowing. Dresses, tunics, suits you name it. It was an honor to be able to bring your queen's wishes to life.

But it wasn't only the queen who had taken a liking to you. Fenrys had been a regular visitor to your shop. You only knew a couple of things about him. And those too were only from the gossip floating around town. He had a brother. Had. He had been killed by Maeve and he had never truly recovered. Most said that he only walked through the city in his wolf form. Rarely in any of the gatherings as a male. So the white wolf had because quite a regular visitor.

He sat outside for almost all the time. Until it had started snowing and your heart simply couldn't take it any longer. Dropping the fabric and needles you reached for the door. Your heart suddenly started beating fast. In the wolf form, he was huge. No average wild wolf. His head turned to you as you stepped outside. You swallowed quickly. Slightly regret your choice but there was no backing out now.

"It's snowing", you muttered, "You should come inside, the fire is blazing", you nodded towards the fireplace. Fanrys glanced through the window. "I bet wet fur ain't too pleasant either", you giggled slightly. The wolf let out a huff but still got up. Slowly stepping inside. "Is it okay if I close the door, i'll get it open for you the moment you want to go", you said softly, truly to make as little noise as possible. He nodded, continuing to sniff around.

You had continued to talk to him the whole night as you got back to work. Occasionally asking for his opinion on draping and color choices. He responded with blinks nods or growls at times. But you could tell that soon his anxiety eased, his fur getting all fluffy and smooth as he drifted off to sleep. That had been a useful norm for weeks now. Almost every night he was there waiting for the moment the last customer left. You had also started making more food, offering him a pot of his dinner.

Until almost a couple of months down the line when Fenrys hadn't shown up and your anxiety had peaked straight away. You had sat for hours waiting for him but there had been no sign of him coming any time soon. So you did the first thing that came to your mind. "Your grace", you bowed deeply as Aelin opened her cabin door. Dinner sounds falling through the open door. "Yn, what a pleasant surprise", she had smiled, "come in".

But you shook your head, "Have you seen Fenrys, is he here by any chance?". Her face changed instantly as she looked over her shoulder, "No, dear, he doesn't spend time with us that often. Is something wrong?". You swallowed thickly, "He spends nights in my shop but... he didn't show up tonight and I just have this bad feeling", you said, worry lacing your words. A large male with dark features stepped up, "Today marks a year since his brother had been killed, it's better if you leave him alone, girl", the male snarled at you. "Lorcan", another female called out in your defense.

But you only held yourself higher, "I'm telling you that I need to find him. I need to make sure he's okay", your hands twisted into fists, "With or without your help", you said firmly. Lorcan narrowed his eyes at you but something in his eyes had shifted. "Gavriel, you mind", he turned towards the table where a male with long blond hair sat. He simply nodded before getting up, "This won't be pretty", he said in a much calmer tone. "Does it look to you like I care if it's pretty?", you grumbled back.

The woods were dark and maker, you would never step into them on your own. You bad no idea how Gavriel and Lorcan even saw anything. "He might be in a mood", Lorcan warned you. "He's been going through it, our boy", Gavriel added, "But I'm glad that he found a friend in you". You smiled at them your mind still racing. Till your eye fell on a heaving figure. Labored breathing, pained cries. Your steps picked up instantly as you rushed before the two males.

"Fenrys", you called out, pushing through the branches. The wolf only howled in pain. "Fen", you said once more making his head twirl to the side. Fangs out as he gets ready to attack. You stopped instantly and within a beat of a heart two fea soldiers were right in front of you but that only made Fenrys grow more. "Let me", you muttered, stepping from between them. "I got worried", you muttered, "Was waiting for you all night", you said softly, extending your hand towards him. Fenrys's eyes softened as a pained whine left his lips. You simply nodded along, "I know, but you don't have to go through this alone". Almost at the last sound of your words a warm light flashed and a male almost twisted your size and sagged forward. You had reached to catch him your Fenrys as you two sunk to the floor. His hair was all matted and dirty, the scars on his face in desperate need of cleaning and some soothing salve. Yet he was still so beautiful. "Oh, Fenrys", you said softly, guiding his face to your shoulder as you pulled your cloak over him.

The two males had helped you carry him back to your shop, where you had ushered him into a warm bath filled with soothing oil mixtures. Humming to yourself as you carefully detangled his hair section by section. A satisfied growl left the wolf's lips from time to time. "I can give it a little trim, just the tips though", you said after a moment, "Braid it for you as well". Fenrys turned to you slightly, "You should be disgusted by this", his voice was raspy and shaky almost no doubt from the lack of using it. "Nothing about you can be disgusting", you said with a smile, "You are going through a rough period in your life and if I can help even a little, I will", you said firmly, making sure he understood that you truly meant it. "But you've already done so much. You've given me hope", his eyes trailed down and you instantly cupped his cheek, wanting to look him in the eyes, "and I am willing to give you so much more, my white wolf", you leaned in brushing your lips over Fenrys's cheek.

#fenrys moonbeam #fenrys moonbeam x you #fenrys moonbeam imagine #fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys moonbeam cadre #fenrys moonbeam tog #tog imagine #fenrys tog #tog x you #tog x reader #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass x reader #gavriel #lorcan #rowan

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

( "Immoral Immortality" — 1K words )

Immortal au writing made by my sweetheart @sukis-artchive based off this comic while we were chatting on discord

⚠️ Warning for violence and blood

—

It started off like any other night. Perkeo preferred the night shift. It was dimmer, quieter, and over all just less to handle. Well...

"Goodnight Pear..."

Moon's voice came from behind them, though thus wasn't the first and far from the last. Perkeo didn't jump at the sound or the menacing words. They quite liked the nickname 'pear', and as for 'goodnight' it wasn't meant to sound like a threat. Merely Moon greeting them, as he couldn't say "good day".

"Hey Moon"

Perkeo sounded happy, yet looked a little tired.

"How have you been?"

Moon had been doing well lately, (Perkeo knew this) but that didn't nothing to ease their mind.

"G-g...g-Gh-ooooD-"

His voice box glitches out. Perkeo refrains from sighing. They knew this would happen eventually, but the short peace with Moon doing well felt good. Too good. They were so close to fixing him. If only he could have held out a little longer. Moon isn't to blame though, he doesn't know.

And so Perkeo repeats the process they made, down to a tea. They learned how to buy the most time by doing this over, and over, and over again. Funny how similar that was to their 'life'. They always had a 2nd... or 87th chance to try again. Maybe get better results.

"Moon?"

They ask hesitantly, as always.

"Are you alright?

They learned not panicking at his silence results in less of a mess.

His pupils turn to red pinpricks, Perkeo isn't surprised, yet their heartrate still spikes. Some things never change.

A bead of sweat starts to form on their cheek, they know what's to come.

Moon reaches out to caress their face. Perkeo has learnt to accept fate.

...

"...Moon?-"

"Moon?"

"...Moon?"

"Moon!" Moon snaps their attention to Perkeo.

"Are you even listenin' to me? Geez." they hold a tablet, bangs barely cover what appears to be a small bandage.

"Sorry, Starlight, my mind was over the moon..." He looks around, getting his bearings, trying to remember what was happening... before that.

"Uh-huh"

The noise pulls him out of his thoughts, he doesn't even know what "that" was. Unable to recall it properly. Strange.

"So what were you saying?" He feels bad ignoring his friend, even if it was accidentally. What's wrong with you?

"I said we're done, you doofus, now go charge because we have a long day tomorrow... I'll close everything."

'All done'? Ohhh it must have been maintenance of his software, that's what the tablet was for. And it explains his forgetfulness, he was always like this after 'check ups'. But he trusts Perkeo.

He gets up off the desk, and reaches to grab them. "I'll leave it to you, then~ nighty night, friend. Sleep well."

He mutters a 'see you tomorrow' under his breath, as they bonk heads. His hand gently holding the sides of their face, fingers threading through their fluffy hair. He doesn't register their rigid posture. Or the slight tremor that courses through their whole body. Not even the small frown gracing their lips.

He walks off to charge, just as they had said.

Perkeo sighs, placing the tablet down. They had held the screen cautiously out of view from Moon the entire time. And start to utter Sun's cleanup chant "Clean up, Clean up".

They had luckily knew thought ahead to leave out the disinfectant. They had never been so grateful that the DCA cannot enter behind the desk, as they look down. Even through the curls falling into their eyes, they can see the crimson smear on the side of the furniture.

Their smear.

A bloody handprint slid across the hard surface.

Perkeo shivered as they walked around the desk. Trying not to look at the red mark. It was so painfully obvious among the bright colours of the daycare. The smell of iron becomes stronger as they get closer. Their stomach twists uncomfortably at the scent.

They reach for the disinfectant, grabbing it as a shudder runs through their body. They ignore it and get back to work. Hmmm, they'd get used to it, eventually.

Grabbing a small cloth, they dab it with disinfectant and get to work. Nose scrunching, they slowly build up the courage to touch the blood. Why is this so hard?

not like it's the first time.

Suddenly the feeling of sickness overwhelms them. They crumple a bit. The sight of their hand lining up perfectly with the print made them gag. It wasn't a pleasant sight, they forgot this would happen.

Memories flash back to them. Of all the other times they made the mistake of touching the handprint like this, instead of wiping it clean immediately.

Then, just like every other time, the other Memories come back.

Well if you can even call them that. 'Memories' sounds happy. Perkeo knew that the connotations don't mean anything though. They've been through too much, and learned that the bad experiences are also 'memories' in a sense.

Their body spasms, as their chest rocks with sobs. They'd never get used to extreme pain. Not even with how many 'deaths' they experienced.

It hurt so bad.

—

Their eyes were swollen and puffy with streaks from their crying. They learned that the only way to live longer was to not fight it. It would toy with them as much as possible, before going for the kill.

It tore into Perkeo like a feast, slicing them with sharp claws. They had been oh so gentle before, Perkeo may never get used to the change.

They didn't want to give it the satisfaction of a scream. It would only make it hurt more then. Perkeo remembers that.

They let it mutilate them. It scratches them, punctures them, drags them by their wounds and hair, pulls them apart. But this was a friend, Perkeo knew it was worth it. It'll all be over soon.

They find some comfort in that, feeling empty otherwise. The small voice of preservation that they thought they long since killed was barely a whisper.

...no....run...

Huh, now that's a surprise. Perkeo thinks, too late. The voice was warning them. Their body even knew what was to come at this point. Oh the irony, the vessel who puts them through this wanting the pain to stop. The only reason Perkeo sticks around here is because of their immortality. If it wasn't for their body, Perkeo wouldn't need to die.

Nothing, not Perkeos experience, nor all the past pain inflicted upon them, could prepare them for what's to come. Perkeo always blocked out this part, it's happened before.

They let out a single cut off screech. Their vocal chords still not fully healed from the last time.

As Moon forces his hand into their socket, violently ripping out their eye.

Blood splatters everywhere, the eyeball bursting in his grip. Perkeo crumbles to the ground.

...should have listened.

The little voice chimed, as Perkeo finally backs away from Moon, for the first time that night. Bad idea, and Perkeo knew it.

Though their immortal side has given them an aloof disposition and immeasurable tolerance. Instinct always found a way to persist.

They knew backing away would make it worse, but it hurt too much now for them to do anything else. They knew this would lead to it ending quicker.

Moon grabs them, claws digging into their flesh. They manage to make it behind the desk, his fingers raking through their skin before losing its grip. They try to pull themselves up, bloodied hands smearing the desk as they use it to push themselves up. They grab the tablet and force a shut down.

Hmmm, this is one of the first times they didn't die...

It takes them hours to fix up themselves and clean the mess, but when they finally do dread starts to well up again. Moon was shut down, but absolutely covered in Perkeos blood. Atleast this time Perkeo remembered to not leave any handprints on Moon. It made this so much harder to clean.

The dread still doesn't subside when they finish, as they pick up the tablet. Connecting it to Moon, they replay the footage. Watching their torture always made it worse.

Deleting the files, they reboot him.

They sigh.

"Hopefully this time we can last a little longer."

#after a few times im sure they'd turn numb to it #there are more important things to care about than the blood on silicone #out of everything what hurts the most is that it wears their friend's face #Suki you're the absolute greatest kissing you kissing you kissing you #immortal au #immortal au writing #dca au #fnaf moon #oc #fnaf y/n #cw blood #cw violence #✨️: suki writing

[undercoverpena]

x. the day which rips and tears

javier peña x f!reader | chapter ten of nowhere to run

chapter warnings: season three narcos spoilers. ptsd. grief. anxiety. reader hitting someone (not javi). no use of y/n. use of a nickname. mentions of smut. feelings. angst. anxiety. ptsd. love thoughts. word count: 5.8k.

AN: this is the big one. the one I've been dreading. all that grief comes to a head.

dedications: thank you to @yeyinde for letting me chew her ear off about this and my plan because i was so lost in the dark before. thank you @wildemaven for making me realise why writing what you love, matters.

It breaks him.

Not slowly. Not piece by piece. But all at once.

Walking in, chaos ricocheting around the room. Watching shards fall, seeing them shattering into a thousand pieces against the tiles as your hands push, shove and hit. 

Then, he finds the utter disappointment etched on Van Ness’s face.

Something has changed, shifted. 

On some level, Javi thinks he knows what it could be. He doesn't realise how wrong he is until he hears it through strangled sobs and tears running like a river down your cheeks. 

Javi thought he could even begin to know. 

The last standing shard, the one that had been there since he came into your life, blasted into fragments before twisting—turning to ash and dust at your feet.

You are standing in ruin, hand extended. 

He decides he won't let you stand alone. 

A good day, you've decided, is one that starts with waking up beside him. 

Before him, when you had clambered for anything to hold on to, it had been perfectly poured coffee, fresh fruit, and no red lights on your commute. 

Now, it’s the chance to take in the slope of his nose, to see how smooth his features are as he rests. It's the warmth from his body—how it gently brushes over your skin, his hand, fingers or leg. Him forever pressed against you, wishing to be connected with you in some shape or fashion.

You know there was a time—months ago—when you ran from this—remembering that night when you’d left this room, dressing haphazardly, spotting how his brows had been pinched together. Even if you knew you’d made the right decision back then, Javi is still more than you had him down for. A force, a presence you couldn't ignore. A person who has marked you—left you forever changed. 

For someone who in the day never stops, Javi barely moves in his sleep. You take the time to study him, without blinds being in the way or needing to put on a pretence why you were staring. It allows you to take in what a juxtaposition to the forever ticking, thinking—pacing and massaging the bridge of his nose—man you've come to work alongside. 

Allowing yourself the chance to admire him, commit this version of him to memory. 

You even permit yourself to wonder, thinking of a far-distant future with him—finding it doesn't seem nearly as complex or hard to reach as before. It's easier when you can pretend the world outside isn’t what it is and that this was a different kind of morning, where commitments and drugs weren’t going to demand so much from the two of you.

But that isn’t reality, so you take what you can. 

Mentally tracing the bow of his lips, you notice how some of the hairs above curl out. You glance over his cheeks, spotting how his long lashes hang over, casting little spider-leg shadows over his skin. Detecting the dark bags under his eyes, ones you’re sure could be worse, but nonetheless are still there.

Truthfully, you think about how you wish his eyes were open. Suddenly, missing the way his soft brown pools drag you under, wrap you in warmth—how they lap around you like gentle waves, all calmly and soothingly. Him searing emotions into you that are doused in nut brown and peeling your skin off in shades of coffee-coloured lust.

“Morning’,” he mumbles, voice an octave or two lower, all croaky but still dripping in its usual honey.

Your lips curl up into your cheeks, fingers strumming across his shoulder. “Good morning. Did you know you’re very good looking when you’re not talking?”

Keeping his eyes closed, you watch him stretch a little. Muscles and tendons flex under his skin before he rolls lazily onto his side, an arm sliding over you—warm and heavy on your waist.

“You’ll pay for that.”

Humming, you nuzzle into him. Distantly aware that soon, an alarm will cut into the quiet. It’ll do its thing and tear through the perfect morning—make the two of you put on your masks and begin another day of recreating your daily performance.

“I hope I will,” you whisper, fingers sliding over his chest, flicking your eyes to his face.

That’s when you find his eyes are on you. All soft, warm—sparkling with deviousness. A pair, you decide there and then, that you’d quite like to wake up to forever if you’re given the chance.

“Behave, will you?”

Tracing your finger up and down his chest, your teeth nip at your lower lip, staring through your lashes at him. “Do you really want me to, sir?”

For a moment, there’s just silence. No sound of passing cars or a city waking up.

Then, it’s disturbed by a groan before the mattress protests his movements as he pushes you onto your back. His body flushes with yours, sheets loose over the two of you—both smothered in the morning light so you can see the look that spells precisely what he thinks of your comment.

“Someone is awake.”

Curling his lips, he rocks his hips against yours—his hardening cock nudging against your thigh. “I’m always awake for you.”

Weaving your fingers through his hair, you pull—ever so slightly—swallowing his second groan. The two of you falling into your usual pattern, because he's as easy to read as you. The two of you are so in tune now, no instructions warranted—all freestyle movements that are easily read and understood, making words no longer needed.

He slants his mouth against your whimpers, hand on your thigh. They fall in a chant, the beginning of a song he’s the only one that can make you sing. Your voice reaches a new pitch when he rolls his hips, the head of his cock hitting that spot—causing your eyes clench as your lips curl around each letter of his name. 

Quickly, you decide that an even better morning is when you come before your morning coffee—when he tells you that you’re doing so well for him.

You’ve always liked receiving stars for doing a good job. 

Arriving at work is bittersweet. No scent of him, just the lingering remnants of Javi's body wash that you’d slathered your skin in before dressing. A new addition to your morning, one which has somehow pushed other mechanisms from your to-do list and mind.

One of them being your desk.

You’d have been distressed at the sight of your desk a while ago. The paperwork piling, the unsorted files—pulled and not even opened—all mounting. It niggled at something inside of you, another string of control snapping and hanging in two parts inside of you.

Another coping mechanism gone, robbed.

Even as it tightened your chest, you slid it to the side. Making a neater but taller pile as you adjust your keyboard. The brewed coffee steamed, the scent of it like an enchantress trying to coax you into relaxing into your chair. 

You almost do.

Almost.

“Hey, you got a minute?”

Dan never asks, least of all, with a pulled expression and an awkward dance of his fingers. He’s worrying, practically pacing—even if he’s not moving. It’s why you eye him for a second, trying to decipher what is happening behind his eyes and what has wound him up tighter than a yo-yo. 

“You good?”

“Are you?” 

Narrowing your eyes, you lift your mug—let the heat warm your palm. “Any particular reason you’re asking me that?”

His lip twitches, just enough to show evidence a smirk would have appeared—if whatever was bothering him wasn’t there. “Your desk.”

Swallowing, you lean into your chair. “What can I help you with?” 

“Chris said you mentioned a debrief.” 

A part of you—one which hammers against your insides—tells you to retract it. To think about the person behind you, the one who’d have to answer for the rules you’d be breaking if you follow through post-debrief. But Dan looks at you, almost pleadingly—even if to everyone else, his expression would have remained the same. 

Nodding, you don’t find words—knowing there are none. Making sure to take your mug with you, letting it roast your palm as you follow. 

You find yourself entering the room you’ve subconsciously dubbed the phone-tap-room—wondering, if only to yourself—if this is the room now where the real fucked up shit goes down. When the lines blur between being the good guys and the guys who have to ensure the job is done.

From the look on Chris’s face, you suppose it’s the latter. 

His conversation from yesterday returns, the way his words had been stitched together to form a sentence rather than fallen naturally. Suddenly, your back straightens. Eyes narrowing ever so slightly, needing your wit, all sense of your emotions and inner workings, as the door shuts behind the two of you.

You expect the silence, the waiting. Everyone waiting for the first person to speak, which is why you decide to take a drink. Coat your tongue in heat and your throat in caffeine.

It’s why you almost choke when Dan begins immediately. 

His voice fast, sentence after sentence falling in an array of unorganised disasters—another point to be ticked in the column that everything is fucked. Something you were aware of, you could read a room—could see it etched into the face of your…

Boyfriend? Person? Boss? 

Frowning, you take another sip. Your eyes lift back to the conversation only when your name is called. Not Luna—the nickname given to you by someone no longer here. Your birth name—the one you were blessed with, the one used in most of your last places of work before here. Before you became the cautionary tale of Cali amongst agents and the one that others couldn’t read or dare speak to.

“So, you think his cover is blown.”

You glance over, watching how Dan paces in real time now. A sight you rarely see. Not even when you were lost in old, dirty bed sheets with unbrushed hair and tears stained on your cheeks.

Four forwards, four back. It's a pattern you’ve only seen him do a handful of times. One that has stages—all of varying amounts of worry. Your brow arched, cocked. All set to be fired when he finally looks at you.

Except he doesn’t. He chooses to keep his eyes firmly on the floor, practically compelling them there. His conscience twisted, warped—the job pecking at the skin on his bone, changing it. Like it has done to everything.

Clearing your throat, you continue, “Well. You realise you can’t just go blazing in there and grab him. Shit doesn’t work like that.”

Chris, who has been forcibly rubbing his forehead for the better part of the last four minutes, sighs. Loudly. Dropping his fingers, leaving pink marks from their intensity against his skin, as the sound punches out into the air, making your eyes widen, and the embers of annoyance flare up in your chest.

Because you had other shit you could be doing.

Had things that you could be helping with—could even be of need to Stoddard. There were files on your desk that could hold answers, things overlooked with old information, but with the new amounts rolling in now, it never hurts to look at it all again. See if more of the puzzle comes together, if pieces fit more cleanly, and if names and identities were found and matched. 

Names to faces you’d quite like made.

Not just for the case, but for you—for sleep, for peace. 

But you’re in here, locked away in some secret plot, all set behind dark blinds.

“Hey, you wanna keep me in the dark on the details, all I have is to poke holes in your plan,” you continue, leaning against the wall, tapping your nails against your mug. “Plus, if you’re not actually going to let me in, I have work to get on with.”

“We don’t have much to give you—”

“Oh, he speaks.”

Chris glares, but you don’t cower. Smirking, lightly but with intent—all callous, cold.

An expression you’ve perfected, one shaped before the two of you ended things and, soon after, cemented when things turned to shit.

“Alright, you pair, come on,” Dan says, interjecting.

Ever the peacekeeper, he shoots you a sharper look. One that spells out: be nice. One that you want to fight, but you swallow because it’s him. 

Folding your arms, you rest the mug against your forearm—the base of it hot, steaming. It keeps you present as worries begin to try and wrap themselves around you. Something is off. Your gut is angry—inflamed. So much so that you bite the inside of your cheek, letting the silence simmer, thicken.

Because even if they had both somehow decided they needed your help, neither of them had said with what exactly. Something which thrummed in your bones, your gut angry and noncompliant—because it likely involved you risking everything.

Your chance. Your job. Your life.

“Can you… I don’t know, give me a file, papers—something that allows me to do my actual job to help. You promised me photos, information—“

Holding his hands up, Dan moves, grabbing something the two of them had clearly forgotten about. “Yeah, here. Look, we don’t have much. But here.”

It’s a swap. He takes your mug, fingers brushing yours—eyes meeting yours in a way that whispers gratitude, even if his voice has yet to say it. Your hand taking the file, it scratching against your fingers, thumb brushing over his, finding something on his face that unsettles you.

More than being hidden behind blinds.

Sliding your thumb over the folder, you release your anger in one breath. Not shooting Chris a look. Not wanting to swell the rage back up inside of you as you slowly open it—spotting the map, the circles, the clear indications of a plan they’d tried to put together. You recognise the building, having seen it from other pictures—briefly in the distance when you were down there. 

You recognise the names in red writing—similar to the ones on the board you pass each day. 

It isn’t until you move the map to the side do you find a selection of handwritten notes—ones you recognise belong to Dan. The chicken scratch you’ve had to decipher when he’s left lunch plans on your desk or notes on things. A smile wanting to spread, to slide, and then—

You see it.

That face.

It’s instant the way a shudder runs up your spine, ripping, smothering over anything that had been there prior. 

You consider turning, giving them your back—taking the chance to stare into the eyes that have plagued you for months. The ones that haunt you.

But you can’t move. Your throat trying to close. Air, all of a sudden, a luxury you don’t have. 

Your palms sweat, glueing themselves to the page. Not allowing you to close it—not allowing you to drop it. Just forcing you to stare, to greet his face as your legs feel weak, and shaky as your stomach twists and knots. 

It’s like everything you’ve been feeling but turned up a notch. Like you’ve been wrenched through the floor and placed in the past—but with the memories of the present. With the knowledge of what is to come. The scent of Cali, the air around you suddenly rich with iron, your skin stained in rich scarlet and ichor. None of it yours, none of it ever belonging to you—

Even if you wish…

And wish…

And wish…

Your name cuts through the room. Slicing. 

But it’s not enough to dull the whispers, the pleading chants of Luna from the lips of your former best friend. It fills the space around you in a chorus—like a voice out at sea trying to tempt you to rocks and demise.

You’re trapped, stuck—misplaced. All lost somewhere between the past, present and a mist-covered future.

Even if your feet are planted in your work shoes—the ones digging into the cheap flooring of the building. Even if you can hear the voice in your head, the one banging against bone, screaming that you’re here. Safe. Protected.

That you’re not in a building in Cali. You’re in a room with people who get it, who understand.

You won’t believe it. 

Sucked in. Suffocated. Hand still holding the picture, the photo—all ink and various shades that etch out into the face that plagues your nightmares. The one you see behind your eyelids when you blink.

It rises—all of it. 

Like thick bile clotted with lumps, your chest is tightening, and your skin is desperate to be itched.

Sunshine yellow, splintered sobs—

You want to scream, to beg—to plead. Save me, pull me back, save me. But your throat barely permits a gasp, never mind a plea. Instead, your suffering begins to show in your hand, a tremble, a shake. Something you can’t rid with ease as it travels down your fingers, showing in a slight movement of your fingers as they struggle to keep hold of the rest of the file.

You try to move your feet again. Do something. Anything. But you almost stumble, your body not your own—it’s his and the past’s. 

It feels wrong to be here, as though things are catching up. 

Chasing, darkness coming in—

Then it spreads, the shakes. 

It floods up your wrists, into your shoulders. 

Filling your lungs, burning, the flames licking up your oesophagus, even as you try to swallow. It blends with shame. With guilt. You survived, and she did not—

It finds anger and uproots the depths of the trauma that made your tongue prefer alcohol to coffee. Your heart is racing, dancing and pulsating before it pounds and aims to ravage. 

You can’t tear your eyes away—even as they rip through you. 

Shred the last pieces of you that had remained scratched, but intact. His eyes are on you, as though they’re in the room. Spearing into you, the same as they are in your terrors. The visualisation of your fears—the thing that goes bump in the night, what hides down dark alleyways and on corners when the sun has set.

The face is still the same—no scars, no new haircut—

Someone touches you as a flinch ripples out, lifting your chin, 

A flinch rippled out as Dan steps back, as though he’s suddenly aware of how hard you’re breathing, how defensive you must look.

“Hey, you ok—“

“W-What’s his name?”

It comes out shaky. Breathy.

Wrapped in tightness that makes it shoot out. Spat. Poisonous. Your voice whips around the air before silence spreads in its wake. Then it hums. Everything.

The tension.

Your grief.

The trauma that has both broken you and kept you together. 

Dan is looking at you, even as he steps back. Concern slowly webbing across his skin as he pauses his pacing—

“Chris.”

It’s sharp, the way you spit out his name.

If he’s aware there’s something wrong, he’s not showing it. Masking, like he constantly fucking does.

“Salcedo,” he says. “Jorge Salcedo. He has a wife…”

He begins speaking, and it’s all monotone. Handing information to you like it’s nothing. But it isn’t nothing.

He’s not nothing.

Your hand drops the file, his face falling to the ground as tremors rumble through you. Your edges crumble, the foundation cracking from the centre rather than the edges.

“—He’s helped us loads, and he’s prepared to—“

“Sal-ce-do…” you whisper, cutting Chris off.

You can feel it—how the room tightens. The air constricts, vines from the past cutting through reality, slicing one by one. Walls shoot up from the ground, separating you—just like it did before. You, the damaged shell and them, the untouched souls. Not helped by the way they’re watching, all three of them—the ones on the floor continuing to make your bones shake in their place, unable to control it.

Even if you try to stop them—try to hide how much you’re being consumed by anger that has been sitting, somewhat diluted, but ever heavy in your chest. Having done so since that night—

Sunshine yellow.

Those eyes. The way they pierce through your sleep and hang around your dreams. How, that even here, you worry they’ll be around the corner.

Breathe.

That’s what you say to yourself. A reminder, a wishful thought. Because you can hear your blood pounding in your ears, your legs still shaky, not confident they can keep you up for much longer.

Not as the floor continues to be tugged from you, attempting to be ripped—

But you’re strong. So much more than you once were. Your back is straight, feet planted. Not willing to be taken, choosing to fight, to battle. To go to war against the feeling which has already robbed you of so much. 

Your jaw tightening, gritting. Because—

Because…

Splintered sobs—

“He tried to kill me, y’know?”

You don’t offer to pick up the file, leaving it there, sliding it across the floor with the heel of your shoe. Watching, studying, how the colour drains from Chris‘s face as your own hardens.

Watching the dots connect. One by fucking one.

The first thing you note, there’s no guilt. No apology. Nothing falls from his tongue as you stare down the man you once lay with.

Sunshine yellow, splintered sobs—

“Salcedo. Your reason. The man with his wife and his adorable kids… he t-tried to kill me—they killed her. My f-friend. Your…” your finger points, shaky in the air—your whole arm, in fact.

Other words, clot, clinging to the side of your throat as you swallow.

Something stitching, something ugly that you hope can’t be true as you watch his expression. See it being created as you continue. 

“He sat in his fucking car—“ 

Your voice cracks, loud and undignified, the calmness evaporating, feeling the energy inside you—inside the room—vibrate. Feeling those eyes back on you through the car's front window as her blood soaked through your dress to your skin. No lights on. The passenger seat empty. 

Just watching.

“—and he watched me f-find her. His headlights turned on. He would have killed me or the person with him.”

He stares, and your eyes flick to Dan.

It takes you a minute. 

The rage had amassed into an exchange of words that had needed to be spilt. Now they were gone, and you were left with something else—the creation in front of you. 

A thing far worse than the acknowledgement, the sentences that rotted in your chest.

You’re embarrassed at the time it has taken you—heart sinking. The new feeling spreads over you as your body is slammed into it, suddenly thrumming with pain.

Your head tilts, lip quivering. “How long have you known—that it was him?”

“Luna, we didn’t—“

You’re quick, shooting a glance, “Not you, Dan. Him.”

It’s the look you’re used to. 

The soft, almost puppy-like expression that used to undo you. Now, it hardens you and makes you want to rip out his eyes and feed them to him.

“Spit it out, Fiestl—“

“A few days ago.”

You can smell the road. 

Feel the heat as if you’re standing there as you go looking for her. Watching, like a movie, how it plays out in front of your eyes and behind your lids. How you’d been shouting her name, painting it across the unlit buildings and quiet streets—

Sunshine yellow, splintered sobs, carmine-stained palms…

Even in the dark, the temperature had been suffocating. It had wrapped its arms around you and dug its claws in.

He shuffles, Fiestl. 

The sound cuts through the tension and your story. 

Your hands are shaking. Your body is vibrating.

Carmine-stained palms. Carmine-stained.

You trace your lip with your tongue, lifting your eyes to meet Chris. “You’re a piece of shit—“

“I… I didn’t—“

Chest tightening, your nails digging into the flesh on your palm as you try to push past it.

Sunshine yellow—carmine-stained palms. Dead. She’s dead. Cold. Splattered in crimson.

Dead.

You make the mistake of looking down, finding the eyes again. It forces you to snap your eyes back up, finding yourself confronted with an unreadable expression on one, and concern painted on the other.

“You can do this on your fucking own—“

Chris’s hand comes out as he calls out to wait, the words not meeting your ears, but his touch…

Cold. Dead. She’s dead.

It spreads like wildfire. It is like the key in a door that should forever remain locked, your body twisting, moving more quickly than you thought possible as your hands shove, push.

Your hand balls up, closing, becoming a fist. It moves, pulling back before connecting, landing on his chin—knuckles against bone, a crack sound—before you pull back again, fingers unwinding, palm-flat as it lands, slapping against him as it erupts out of you.

Words spit. Tears fall. None of it lessening. 

Chris taking it all. Not trying to stop you—no one trying to stop you.

The mist having descended, the lights on, but nobody's home as it swallows you, eradicates you. It all rises from where you kept shoving it into, weaving around freely in your veins, turning everything good into red.

“Let me expl—“

You collide your palm, it stinging up your wrist before you’re yanking it back to do it again.

“—I hate you, Chris. I hate—“

And again.

And again.

“–you killed her. You had her killed. You lied, you lied, and you lied again—“

Your palm flattens, connecting with his chest as your words slide through the air. They rip up, rising from beneath buried pretence to cut him—to wound him.

You don’t stop.

Won’t stop.

Not until you have no more to hammer into his chest. Words falling, laced in the hatred you’ve tried to keep back—because he had hurt you, but now he has wounded you. Left you covered in scars no one could see. Left you broken, parts of you forever wrecked—withered and wilted.

“—you knew, you knew and st-still—“

The words were not able to come. To leave.

That is, until an arm wraps around your waist. A scent you know like it was your own. The arm, belonging to someone you know, pulling you back—tearing you back, dragging you.

All of it allows you to breathe, for your lungs to fill with something other than hatred and brimstone. Let things settle as your spine connects to the chest you’ve woken up against.

You know it’s Javi.

You know it before his voice sounds, demanding an explanation; you knew it from the firm but gentle way he had pulled you back—how he held you as you tried to thrash to get back to Chris.

It’s his words that still you.

Whispered, all close to your ear. “Cariño, enough.”

His touch is like an extinguisher, but it’s his name for you that smothers the flames and the room.

Your body softening, pliant. Almost ready to burst differently—tears burning your eyes, stinging, making it hard to see, thick and feel.

It’s why you turn in his hold. Blurry eyes searching the outline of his expression—looking for any confirmation, a swirling sickness in your abdomen that he could have known too.

But you don’t find it. 

Not in his eyes—not in the soul he allows you to see from time to time.

Your head instinctively tilts, and you want to ask, make sure he knows why—because this isn’t you—needing him to know that, needing him to understand. Wanting to rid the confusion in his eyes, and the pain in your own.

He’s trying, you can see. 

Attempting to come to a conclusion with the information at hand. Ticking, like Javi does—but this time, for a reason that has nothing to do with the case.

A sob breaks. Your shoulders sinking, body depleting, even more so as Javi's hand rises, all set to touch your cheek.

And you want him too. Just him. Just Javi.

“I’m…” you begin to whisper, swallowing. 

Tears coat Javi’s fingers as he gives in, brushing your cheek with his thumb. An explanation wanting to fall, to tell him—wanting nothing more than to share with him.

Instead, your lip quivers. “I’m done. With it all, g-getting Cali, Colombia… f-fuck it all. I quit.”

The words leave your lips before you can stop them. Process them. 

Your feet force you back, stepping as the back of your hand comes to your mouth, movements groggy—like they don’t belong to you. Watching in slow motion as Javi’s hand remains in place where your cheek was, before it slowly descends. 

Then, you’re a passenger. Your hand finds the door handle, feet carrying you forward as your body storms through it. The eyes off the office fall to you, but you’ve grown so used to them, that they don’t slow you. They don’t force you to wipe your cheeks or stifle the sobs that try to crack through you.

Each step is heavy, with the heel landing solidly, but your legs still feel weak. Your vision is blurry, yet somehow, you manage to avoid desks as you hunt for your own.

Bag, keys, coat. You tell yourself. That’s all you need.

The back of your hand is still pressing against your lips, choosing not to look at Stoddard even as he stands. Not wanting to be greeted by more concern and faux pity—

Until you realise that Stoddard is standing because you know he’s behind you.

Hot on your tail. You can hear it now as your hand wipes your face as you almost reach your desk, hand reaching out, wishing to grab your items.

Bag, coat, phone—

But, he’s quick. Javi is quick, good and perfect.

The only thing that can bring you any comfort or calm. But, you want to fight against it. Want to sit in this, let it eat you alive, surrender to all the energy you’ve spent trying to keep yourself standing, working and doing.

That thing in your chest burns again. 

All acidic, travelling north of your throat. It mixes with the anger, the shoved-down annoyance that you’ve fallen for him. Having only ever wanted to see what the fuss was about, discover why talks of his prowess had rippled through the office before Escobar landed face down on the roof.

You’d wanted just to know whether his cock could really make you see the stars and the heavens—dispute the rumour. Forget, be able to forget with someone who didn’t know or care to ask.

Now, you’re pretty sure you love him.

And you suspect he loves you, too.

You imagine it’s why his hand is wrapping around your elbow, leading you to his office, why you don’t fight it as it happens. No longer able to run from it—from how you feel, from your past, from your grief. 

Suspecting it’s why, as you step through his office, you feel things begin to crumble and crack. His door shutting feeling final, the blinds being closed, feeling the curtains coming down at the end of the performance. You no longer need to pretend, to fake it—you can break, crumble and snap. 

And you do when he’s back in front of you, feeling him pull you close until you’re burying your face into his chest as it falls from your lips.

All in horrid, choking sobs.

Vibrating. Gently soothed from you as his fingers massage the wrist of your balled-up hand near his ribs.

“Breathe, Cariño. Just breathe.”

I love you. I love you. I love—

“I s-should say that I love—“

“Shh,” he whispers. “I know, I know. I do, too.”

And you relax, fingers clutching his shirt—soaking your tears into the fabric. Letting him hold you again, letting him actually try to comfort you more than just using him. Let his feelings seep in. Let his words warm the coldest parts—the ones shrouded in darkness from old heartache and fear.

“Javi, you have things—“

He holds you tighter, more insistently. “We can stay as long as you need to.”

And then you break.

Fully.

Not in neat parts, but messily. Letting him see it all, how there were pieces held together by sheer hope and grit, and others somehow having been teetering in place for so long, they were always bound to fall.

“Salcedo is… h-he’s the one who came for me.”

You feel him still. His body tensing against you—his heart quickening in the chest you’re pressed to, right against your ear.

In the silence, you’re sure you can hear how his brain even begins to whirl. Just lightly, almost drowned out by how you gnaw at the side of your cheek until it stings—tasting blood as it smothers over bitter coffee and earlier apprehension.

“And h-he knew. Fiestl. He-he put the… fuckin’ pieces together sometime between asking me to help and p-putting me in that room.”

Your voice shakes, quakes—

It all begins somewhere in your throat before it latches on, cutting into your words. Fragmenting them, letting them hit the air all in pieces, just like your heart.

It takes you a moment, a second before you realise you’re being seated. Finding yourself arranged until he’s sitting beside you, somehow weaving in close, allowing you to touch him as much or as little as you need.

Searching his eyes, your throat tightens at the look of concern—how his finger brushes over your cheek before dropping to his lap.

You’re not sure how long the two of you eventually sit beside one another for—not touching you—just staring. A mirror of last night, when he’d asked you about Texas, about a life way after all of this.

His silence is an odd comfort—usually, you’re so used to cracking under quiet. Yet, with him, you settle. Relax into it. Shoulders slide from your ears as your body grows tired from all you’ve been through. 

No one knocks.

No one comes to find you—no one even rings.

It’s like the world outside goes quiet while yours still recovers from the earthquake.

In time, you let your fingers slide over his—feeling their warmth, the small healed scars and calluses on his fingers as you sigh.

“I’m… I’m really done.”

And his mouth opens, then closes.

“But not with you,” you add.

Tightening your hold on his hand, a shaky breath rips through you as you half-smile.

“You, I'm not done with.”

The leather grumbles as he moves, and he says nothing, just pulls you into the crook of his neck as his arm comes around your shoulders.

“You have to save him,” you whisper, staring at a patch on the carpet. “Sal… the man who has helped. He has k-kids. They... they don't deserve…”

Then he kisses your forehead. In understanding and in comfort. 

An act that makes your eyes close and the last knot of tension fade from your body as you sink into him—clinging, like a starfish trapped on a rock, being battered by the sea.

an: i feel i should apologise for the wait, but this chapter was horrible to write because so much of her anguish and trauma had to come out from somewhere. this piece has way more shards of me than it should, but i hope you appreciate them all ✨

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #narcos fanfiction #javier pena narcos #mm: nowhere to run #nowhere to run update #pedro pascal narcos #pedrostories #tw: ptsd #tw: grief

[queenofpurgatoryx]

For Aslaz headcanons: after they start kinda dating Asi starts borrowing jewelry and pieces of clothing from Alaz which makes him unreasonably happy because it's as if he's always touching her and also demonstrates to everyone around that she's his (not in the ownership sense but in a "Asi excepted Alaz" sense)

i think i will use my other account @queenofpurgatoryq for aslaz writing so hmu there and give me head canons or requests

.

He was feeling cold all of a sudden, empty.

Alaz Soysalan was no stranger to waking up next to someone else inside his bed, yet, it was a strange feeling to wake up with someone who he still longed to touch after a night spent together.

He moved his hand a little, the other side of the bed was still warm but he was alone. His bare chest was feeling chilly because he had gone to sleep with an arm drapped over his chest, her curly hair shielding him away from the cold. With her absence, his left side ached with the loss of warmth.

Once he heard gentle foot steps on the wooden floor he opened his eyes, squinting at the brightness of the morning sun.

He watched as Asi moved in his room like a feather. She was tip-toeing around not to wake him up as she eyed his room. Alaz couldn't help but smile a little. Her feet were bare, she was only wearing an over sized white shirt of his that barely covered her tighs. She looked like an organic part of his room and his heart swelled with a strange feeling of possesiveness.

He moved a little to sit up, enjoying the quiet as Asi watched herself in the mirror, checking a spot right under her ear lobe where her neck met her shoulder. He had done that last night, even in the heat of the moment where all he could think was to devaour Asi, Alaz was aware that he was going to leave a bruise with his kiss.

Alaz was not a horny teenager anymore and he knew how to not leave a mark but he was not the most logical person when Asi was on his lap, half naked and out of breath. A part of him wanted to leave a mark to show himself that they were real, what ever they had was real and if he did not fuck it up like he usually does, he could have it for a while.

Asi did not look upset about it, she gently touched her finger tips against the mark, Alaz could swear he saw her lips curling upwards ever so slightly.

His chest ached again and this time the fire he was feeling was something less innocent and more primal.

All of a sudden Asi caught his gaze through the mirror, her eyes widened as she turned around to face him. She was leaning against the dresser, she was obviously blushing which made Alaz grin.

"Why are you watching me like a creep?"

"Good morning to you too, my love. You are full of romance and sweet-nothings as usual." Alaz sat up and his gold chain dangled on his bare chest.

A few months ago a sarcastic comment like this would've earned him a frown if he was lucky (it could even lead up to a fist fght under certain circumtances) now it made her chuckle and roll her eyes.

"Were you expecting breakfast in your bed?" She hummed. "Mr. Soysalan, thank you for gracing me with your presence" she held the end of the shirt as if it was a dress and bowed down a little. "You better get used to things the way they are now."

Alaz shook his head a little as he got up from the bed, grabbing some sweatpants that were thrown on to the floor. "Oh, I intend to get used to it." As he got dressed from the waist down, he could feel her gaze on his movements. She was still smiling but when he looked up he could see that she was staring at his chest. This woman was going to kill him with the way she was making him feel.

"I also think I want to get used to seeing you in my shirt, it is a great look."

Asi awarted her gaze and blushed. She crossed her legs a little to cover herself but the view was still breath taking and Alaz could feel a matching blush creeping down from his neck to chest. "Take my shirts, jewlry whatever you want. As long as people know you are mine." He said slowly as Asi raised a brow. He knew this would not sit well with her but he wanted to push just a little. She was looking so cozy, she was looking like she belomg to his room, his space. It was intoxicating feeling. "You even smell like me, you're driving me crazy Asi."

She didn't object when he crossed the distance between them and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.He moved her head to the side with a gentle hold on her chin, taking in her sent mixing with his cologne, his shampoo, and almost lost control as he gently kissed the hickey he gave a night ago. "Or I could give you more hickeys, since you were admiring it so much."

Asi finally snapped as he knew she would, pushing him away from herself, not so gently. "You are such an idiot," she muttered. She crossed her arms over her chest but Alaz could see she was red up to the tip of her ears and was breathing a little heavier for someone who was standing still. "Are you also going to pee on me to mark your territory? You are a barbarian, all that luxury and high end life and you're still an ape."

Alaz couldn't hold his giggle, he loved when Asi was mad, which only made her huff. She tried to move away from him but he gently caugh her by the wrist. "Calm down Asi Kız, its not an alpha male thing, I promise."

"What is it then, Alaz? Enlighten me," she challened him but did not pull away from his touch.

"I know you are mine just as I'm yours. I don't need to prove anything," he said honestly. Although he would've enjoyed annoying Cesur and Yaman with mischief, he was secure in his feelings perhaps the first time in his life. "That being said, you look hot as fuck in my shirt. Maybe its the ape in me but I blame you for the result. Its not my fault you look unresistable."

Asi tried not to smile but failed. He moved closer again, wrapping his arms around his waist. For a moment he taught Asi would stir up an argument again but she was looking pleased. "You are mine?"

"I am."

"You're not just saying it?"

She was actually looking bashful and Alaz's chest swelled with the intensity of his feelings. How could e be unsure after everything? "I'm yours until you'll have me, anything you want" he said truthfully. Asi had gone through a lot in her life, seen things that he did not want to imagine. He had been part of the things Alaz wished she had never experienced, it was too late to turn back time but he was determined to make it up to her as long as he lived.

She was looking so cute in his arms even her messy curls were perfect as she put her arms around his neck, now they were standing so close he could feel her breasts move with every breath. "To be honest, I would be yours even if you decide to hate me one day. You can even stab me again, you're not changing my mind. I'm still not enough of a good guy to let you go. I could never."

She kissed him with force. Alaz was feeling invincible as he picked her up from her waist and she did not hesitate to wrap her legs around him. It was a scary confession because he knew that this feeling was dangerous, this dependecy and devotion he was feeling was dangerous. That was a topic for another day though, he did not think about anything else but Asi in that moment. He doubted he would ever want to do otherwise ever again.

.

Hello anon, thank you for this it was so much fun.

you sweet summer child though, i think there is a possesive side to both of them that is a little toxic so i definietly acknowledge they have a dynamic that is not the healtiest but it works. i believe in a health and mature relationship you should know when to let someone go but alaz is not that guy tbfh

And yes i am turk writing in eng bc i see a lot of international fans!! feel free to send in eng or türkçe de yazmayı düşünüyorum hayatımda hiç Türkçe ff yazmadım ama denemek istiyorum skdkdldk belki aynı hikayeyi asinin bakış açısından Türkçe yazarım vs. Talep varsa bekliyorum

#yabani #aslaz #alaz soysalan #turkish tv #my writing #head canons

[privateanxieties]

forget my mercy, take my blame (chapter 2)

Summary: You thought the events of the day couldn't get worse than one robbery and a cryptic conversation with a mysterious stranger. You thought wrong. This, you realize, is how it all starts.

Words: 3.3K

Series Masterlist | NEXT CHAPTER

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Many hours later, guilt is eating its way through a considerable portion of your conscience, as it usually does following the clash of hot temper and arrogance— both of them yours. You're no longer insistent on pinning your shortcomings on the mysterious stranger with molten brown eyes, though you're still grumpy about his bold assumptions and oddly skewering way of getting a point across. 

Just let it go. Don't do what I know you want to do.  

You split the four hundred dollars he left between your two employees, but for some reason, the crumpled up singles still rest in your jacket pocket. The money takes up a lot more space inside your head as you drive home, radio turned up above its usual volume. It doesn't provide much of a distraction, because the faintly illuminated road ahead is the perfect canvas for a busy mind to fill. 

Traces of the past hide inside misshapen trees and uneven asphalt, and if your grip were a little tighter, it would leave the same dent in the steering wheel that it did the night you drove back from that slate quarry in your hometown. Nineteen years is a long time to still remember the smell of overheated excavation equipment. It's far away, yet surfaces so abruptly that your nose almost floods with it. Your lips press together in displeasure.

Well, at least you're breathing. You suppose Mark couldn't from beneath all that gravel you buried him under. Did he suffocate or was he crushed? Maybe a question you'll always have in the back of your mind. You know the answer wouldn't give you peace, were it to arrive from an omniscient being. What does it matter how he died? Yours is the will that killed him. Turning an event around and over and upside down two decades after it took place is just another way of engaging your guilt and letting it gnaw on more mental acuity. You need your wits about you, so you don't forget what all this is even for. You're alive. You have a life that needs living. Sometimes, there will be people who won't let you live it, and you can't just throw everything away to settle the score. 

Scoffing at the bullshit mantra you’ve tried feeding yourself all day, you take the last right turn before you're finally on the road that leads home, hand reaching out to lower the volume on the stereo. Whatever. You made it through today, and you'll try your hardest not to think about the little shit who stole from you and his neon green jacket. You’ll also do your best not to think about your encounter with the strange man and his gruff voice, lest he become the thing you lose sleep over tonight. 

It'll be hard to avoid it, because you kept his message. Maybe as a symbol, or maybe as an excuse. There is some part of you that wants to believe he was meant to be there today, if only so you didn't truly screw up this time and become a criminal. Shooting someone while they're robbing you and hunting them down to do it afterwards are actions that the law tends to distinguish between unfavorably. Just like it might distinguish between killing someone inside an old quarry and killing them after they'd already taken you there for murder.

The self-defense angle always felt shoddy in your mind. Maybe what you did to Mark would've looked like self-defense to a jury, but you sure know you didn't bury him under seven tons of jagged rock because you wanted to protect yourself. You didn't burn down his house because you were feeling reasonably threatened. You just wanted him to get what was coming his way. Karma, your hands. 

You might have a problem, but you're alive. You survived that and you're going to survive more, just as soon as you take a cold bath and chase away the heat settling in your bones. That's what mid-August spent in an ancient car with no working air conditioner will get you. Replacing the shitty truck will have to wait, because news of the robbery will spread and you don't want to be telegraphing the fact that the bakery isn't your main source of income. 

This may be a nice town, but today was a good example of a gap in people's decency— yours included, because you were so fucking rude to that mysterious stranger, and what did it accomplish? He replenished your losses and left without another word. The longer you look back, the more guilt advances on your psyche. It stills momentarily, however, when a suitable distraction finally appears as you find yourself a couple hundred feet down the road from your house. It’s true that you wanted something else to focus on, but this is so unwelcomed that it sends a wave of nausea through your body. 

The scene is flooded with the red and blue lights of two police cruisers and one ambulance, all parked along the narrow cul-de-sac housing only two buildings: yours and Hazel's. Your mind kicks into high gear before you even lay eyes upon the crowd that has gathered on your front lawn. The sky turned dark not long ago, the hands of the clock approaching a kind of twilight zone of your neighborhood: nobody is typically out at this time of night, and yet, at least twelve people found enough interest in the unfolding scene to leave the comfort of their homes. 

The commotion is centered around your property, but the ambulance suggests someone requiring medical attention. You live alone. Hazel is in her late 80s, and you've known her to need a doctor now and then. However, the police being here is the part of the equation that you really don't like. You try to slow down a mind that by nature has already zeroed in on potential scenarios, making a decision to pull over right outside the cul-de-sac instead of crowding it with another vehicle. In a neighborhood this small, your arrival is noticed. 

You don't linger, unsticking yourself from the clammy leather seats and stepping out of the truck. The air outside is marginally better than inside the car, though heat still scalds with the gentler hand of a dry climate. At least you're not pouring sweat and disheveled, because it appears that bath will have to wait. And, after only a few moments of approaching the scene, you realize just how long that wait is going to be. There is black tarp on your porch. 

The closer you get, the more your spine tingles. Pairs of wide eyes settle on you as you pass them, and it isn't long before Sheriff Randy O'Hare nails you with his own bulbous gaze. He looks like an idiot, and not even one that's in charge. You glance at the porch again. 

Tiny surface area. Not much room between the ground and the black material taking up space. Small, lithe. Your house. 

The sheriff is having some sort of internal conflict you wish you weren't here to witness. He shuffles from one foot to the other and clears his throat as you stop in front of him, several feet away from the stairs leading up to your front door. It's spattered with blood, visible even against the dark brown oak. Fresh. 

Randy says nothing for several more seconds. You have many things to say, none which are appropriate. You've never been good at playing the emotionally fragile. There's a body on your front porch and you need this fucking idiot to speak or— 

"I'm so sorry. We're… We're all still in shock. I've known her—" He stops, wiping his mouth and looking away as if something startled him. "—my whole life, I swear. She never did nothing to nobody. Jesus help me, if I get my hands on the one that did it—" 

"Who is that, Randy?" you interrupt. It's a question you've asked law enforcement before in your life. The air pressing down on your skin is even warmer now. 

"Look, I can't imagine how hard this is. She meant a great deal to everyone in this town, but you knew her best. Ain't nobody ever have a kinder word to say than her. I can't believe—" 

"Randy, who the fuck is that?" 

If you snap, it's not of your own volition. You're not here. Not really. You aren't with Randy O'Hare, Sheriff of Apolline County who apparently can't utter a simple name. Your mind has traveled backwards in time, and the house you're standing next to isn't your own, but it's painted just about the same. It’s easy to slip away into memory. The awning and the windows are fashioned into the same mold as your childhood home, because those were the things you’d loved most about that house— a mistake. You made a mistake. Your eyes are drawn to the ground, mind working in all directions.

"Hazel Bergman." 

You think you hear another name for a brief and cruel moment. The sight of polished black boots atop lush grass only works to further blur the line between past and present. 

"I'm so sorry, honey." 

"What happened?" 

You haven't been so aware of the nuance in your voice since it last betrayed you by shaking as it now is. It's so, so warm outside, but not humid. Not like Auckney. It's not as bad as it was when you were standing in front of a similar house, aged nineteen and wondering why the woman who raised you wouldn't get up from her rocking chair. 

You need to get a grip. Look O'Hare in the eyes. You need to know if he lies to you, like cops always do. His face is melting under the cowboy hat. Even his eyeballs are sweating. He's emotional. He should be truthful. 

"Daniel Roywood said he saw her arguing with somebody on your porch. He ain't hear what they were talkin' about, just that she looked upset. I've never seen that woman upset once in thirty years. She must've had a damn good reason," Randy explains, looking torn between grief and inoffensive anger. You're not torn between anything. 

"Who was she arguing with?" 

O'Hare sighs, a curt movement of his neck telling you he doesn't know shit. 

"Nobody Danny knew. He couldn't get a good look— the damn house is too far away. But he just said they were arguin', and that was it. He shot her. Just some punk in a green jacket." 

It's a miracle you don't react in any meaningful way. For that small interval between the words hitting you and your brain processing them, you're as impassive as before. That brief amount of time is all you get, however, because putting a face to that vague description happens in the blink of an eye. 

You look away, covering your face with both hands. You slow your breathing as much as you can, trying to not make any noise as blood rushes through veins that have no hope of containing the pressure. It pounds at your temples and raises your temperature, and suddenly the only lever that hasn’t been flipped on your temper is labeled self-preservation. You can’t do this with people watching, and you’re briskly reminded of that as an unexpected weight settles upon your shoulders. It makes you flinch and move away, and you hear O'Hare apologize before he clears his throat again. A silence follows that isn't long enough. 

"Look, I know this is hard. But you know I need to ask you some questions, right? We need to find the son of a bitch that did it and if you have any idea who—"

"I don't." 

You've clipped your tongue with how hard you were biting it, but at least you've got your breathing back under control. Facing Randy is easier with a constant trickle of pain and metal. He looks torn, apologetic. 

"Come on, honey. I know you don't want to think about anybody you know doin' something like this, but we need something to go on," he pleads. You don’t like the implication behind his words or the ring of truth around it. 

"Randy. Everybody knows everybody here. I promise you, if Roywood didn't know him, then I sure as hell don't. I don't have a boyfriend. I'm not divorced. I generally don't keep male company. There is no one! " you seethe, and you're certain that he mistakes your outburst for lingering shock and anger about what happened. It is, but not in the way he seems to think. 

The Sheriff frowns, so obviously pitying you and finally seeming more at ease now that you're the emotionally vulnerable one. It's fine. It works in your favor. Tonight will be long and you will benefit from not raising eyebrows or invoking anything other than sympathy from both police and neighbors. The Sheriff looks around for several moments, lips pressing together like he's chewing on the words he hasn't yet said. Soon enough, they part. 

"Listen, I hate to ask right now. But if we have any chance in hell of catching this bastard, we could really use the feed from your cameras," he says, gesturing left. Your gaze follows his to the perimeter of the house, covered at every angle by wireless surveillance systems. 

Just like that, a spark. A needle to thread. Another choice presented. 

Crumpled up bills in your front pocket. 

Warm steel at your back. 

A splattered front door. 

The maligned prescience of four words. 

Ain't worth dying for.

"Randy, I…” You enjoy the first real breath since you've arrived. It really doesn't take you long to make a decision. “I'm sorry. I left those up for show more than anything. Couldn't afford the bills after a while. They don't work." 

O’Hare deflates. There’s no suspicion you’ve told a lie. It's as if the grit he's supposed to have is flowing through you instead, lighting up your eyes and triggering the itch in your fingers. It's the challenge, the defiance, the guilt that sears through your veins now. The air is almost cool compared to the heat of your skin and the surge in your temper. 

The Sheriff imparts more condolences you don't care to hear before walking away, but he's soon replaced by Deputy Dipshit, who you hope is wise enough to only offer pertinent details for the unfolding scene. You aren't interested in what Brent Rivers has been up to, and he usually insists on making it everybody's business. All you want to know is how long before you can enter your house, but pretty soon you realize he won't provide any clarity. It has to be his first murder scene, because he stumbles around simple words after greeting you with a mumbled hi . 

He talks and talks, and nowhere does he utter that crucial piece of information you’re waiting to be told. Too long into his jumbled speech, you find the right place to interrupt. He had the nerve to comment on how you’re holding up. 

"I'm sorry. I just don't think I'm all ears right now. All I want to do is…" A shaky breath rattles your chest. "… get away for a few days. I don't think I can sleep in my own house knowing this happened. Um, is there any way I could grab a few things and get out? I don't want to be alone once you leave." 

Along the way, your words are punctuated by little tells of vulnerability: eyes downcast, vocal chords trembling, excessive blinking. Your shoulders pull in. Brent nods up a storm, mood lightening up as his arm comes to rest around them uninvited. 

"Yeah, 'course. I can take you—" 

You break away from his grip with an apologetic smile, rubbing your neck to keep your hands busy. 

"Can you wait for me at the door? I'll feel better knowing someone's downstairs, and I already have a bag ready. You know, for uh, emergencies and stuff." 

The Deputy is less pleased than before, but he acquiesces to your request with a nod and a motion towards the house. You pretend to hesitate before taking the wooden stairs slowly, keeping your eyes averted as you plant your feet on the porch. The edge of the tarp is barely an arm's length away. From this spot, you can see both the pool of blood seeping out from under it and the drops spread across the brick wall. You retrieve the keys from your jacket as Brent stops behind you. 

"I'll be right here," he reassures in a too-gentle tone. 

You walk inside without a reply, and to Brent's briefly glimpsed surprise, shut the door after you. The security system needs a two-step deactivation that would raise eyebrows after you've told O'Hare you can't afford the bills for the cameras. You breathe deeply for another moment, finally alone. 

You only told a half-lie. There is a bag for emergencies, but not for the kind that people usually have. Downstairs as well as upstairs, you keep two duffels properly stocked and periodically checked. They're similar in contents, and yet your preference has always been clear. The bedroom closet. Upstairs. You move untethered towards your target.

Throwing two changes of clothes inside along with a plain pair of sneakers, you zip it back up and lift it over your shoulder. It feels familiar. This bag could be your life. Your life could be this bag. If things go wrong, you'll be good for a while. Back downstairs, where you arrive in the same haze, you make sure Piper and Mae will be good for a while too, replenishing the bird feeder and their respective water drippers, bidding them goodbye soon thereafter. You try not to linger in the house, but a glint draws your attention to the kitchen counter in your peripheral. 

The casserole you stuffed your face with this morning and forgot to put back inside the fridge is resting exactly where you left it, the blue sticky note still attached to its side. You remember the message word for word, as well as the curving of the letters you've always been impressed by, though never more so than by the kindness behind each gesture. Hazel couldn't grip the pen quite as well as she used to in her old age, but she liked to practice in the notes she left for you. 

She made you food. Cared for you. Made life feel less lonely. 

She's outside your door for the last time because you didn't do the right thing today. 

Ain't worth dying for.  

You don’t realize you’ve walked over until your outstretched hand hesitates before the small note. It's the final one you'll ever get. 

'Don't work so hard! It's Saturday, live a little!' 

More copper flows into your mouth, this time springing from the lip you tore into so a sob could be stifled. You fold the paper with care and it goes into the same pocket as the pair of singles, just as your mind goes to the same place it's always been more comfortable resting. Maybe, the only place it can have any peace. 

Keeping your head down as you exit the house, your eyes find her almost by accident. They're drawn to the tarp. You figure they have to be, since you put it there. You put her there, because you didn’t put a bullet in the right person. You didn't do what you knew you should've.

"Hey. Did you get what you need?" 

Ain't worth dying for.  

Your eyes don't stray, glued to a puddle of blood and the greedy floorboards swallowing it up. The eyes want to remember, just like the ears remember a thundering rock slide and the nose remembers diesel and construction equipment. 

You tell the truth, and it sets you free. 

"No."

.

.

-to be continued-

A/N: No Frank in this one unfortunately, but plenty of him in the next one and let me tell you, they are not the best of friends. Chapter 3 is scheduled for August 13th. If you'd like to be tagged for updates, you can reblog any of the previous chapters!

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle imagine #the punisher x reader #frank castle #frank castle smut

[vacancy-virtues]

Please write a part 2 of Indulgence 1? I can't stop reading it it's just so good

Greetings anon!

It is a thrill to know Indulgence #1 has been popular, and I did do an additional part to this one particularly for another ask.

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy and thank you for your patience!

XXX

#1.75- "Bringer of Happy Endings"

Villain couldn't believe the night before happened the way it did. They almost didn't want to believe it in fear of disappointment, yet when the morning light illuminated the piles of clothes the two discarded through their night and the sleeping form of Hero beside them, Villain had no other choice but to believe.

There was a chill in the cabin. The embers of the fireplace still barely crackled its last bit of life in the quiet room. After they untangled themselves from Heros embrace, their feet met the cold hardwood below. A shiver to shoot up their spine. They made their way to the bathroom to freshen up, and as they washed their hands, noticed the carnage Hero left behind on their neck.

Various bruises, from either Heros hand or their mouth, littered their skin and trailed down to their collarbone and shoulder. The flesh was tender from the attention, particularly around some strategically placed bite marks just on the nape of Villains neck which would be harder to hide. How were they to explain all this when Villain got back to headquarters?

"Fuck, Hero..." Villain hissed quietly as they inspected the bruising.

They donned a fluffy black robe, and after starting a pot of coffee, took a seat at the desk. The document they'd been working on was still open on their idling laptop, sentence stopped mid-way from the bombardment of last night. They scanned over it and couldn't help but chuckle at the stark contrast of the bitter words on the screen compared to the sweet events of only a few hours ago. Villain started a new document, labeled only as 'Plans'. A pair of arms encircled their waist not long after they started, and Heros chin rested on their shoulder.

"Still writing about me?"

"Not in the way you hope, but yes."

"You didn't get this cabin to work," Hero hummed, placed a gentle kiss on Villains tender neck. "You came here to get away from me."

"Clearly, I failed in doing that. So, now I have to work."

"Why?" Heros arms tightened. "Am I really so terrible that you'd rather scheme than stay in bed with me?"

The statement irked Villain, yet they didn't move away from the other like they'd done last night. Villains hands hovered over the keyboard, their eyes fixed on the empty document, but their mind focused on Heros words and closeness. Headquarters at least knew where Villain was, but it would be highly unlikely Hero had the same graces with their role as bringer of happy endings. It only hurt more for Villain to know they would never have one of their own.

"Did I say I want to work?" A hand reached to hold Heros wrist. "I have to. We have to, because we are predisposed to this. I've been tired of this for months, and it's why I didn't come back. But now you're here and I have to work up a plan for when you tell everyone you found me. Everything starts over again, as usual."

There was a long moment of silence. Hero didn't say anything, and Villains hands went back to the keyboard with a defeated sigh. Not only were they tired of the routine they were always stuck in, but they were tired of the hurt knowing it would never change. They knew better than to allow themselves to wallow in it, and so they tapped Heros hands around their waist.

"Now, could you let go? There is no point in making plans if you're watching over my-"

"Sidekick took my place."

"...What?"

"I brought them on to show them how to be a proper hero in the event something happened to me, and..." Hero took a deep breath, arms still draped loosely around their waist.

"Last week, something did happen. Some of your people brought down a building-"

"Good for them," Villain interjected with an subtle, but approving nod.

"Not the point," Hero chuckled, a smile in their voice. "I had to get out through the sewers. Instead of immediately getting back to the scene, I... hid, just to see what would happen. It barely took them a day to decide I was dead after not being able to find the body."

It seemed absurd to Villain, almost to the point they got angry. For someone of Heros status, their prestige, how could it be so easy to write off such a mundane death as factual? Villain was clearly offended on Heros behalf, but they stayed mostly silent as they listened to Hero, unsure of what they were hinting at with all this.

"Did... you plan this?"

"In a way, no, but I'm glad for how it turned out." Hero nuzzled their head against Villain with a soft sigh. "Sidekick is doing a fine job at the hero work. I'd even say they are getting more popular than I was when I started."

"I find that hard to believe..." Villain said with biased disinterest. "How did you find me?"

"I like to think I know you better than you think I do." It had been years, afterall. Villain could only imagine what Hero knew about them.

Villains hands clenched above the keyboard as they processed the nearly unbelievable information given to them. It had been such a long time since Villain allowed themselves to think about what it would be like without the scheming and plotting against Hero. How better their life would be if they didn't spend sleepless nights figuring out how to subdue the Hero again, only to expect a follow-up fight the next week. How good their life could be without the expectations of the roles they upheld for so long. It would either be the most surprising truth Villain ever heard, or the most dastardly plan Hero has come up with yet.

"Then... what do you want from me?"

"You. Have I not been clear? I've wanted you for so long yet never figured out how to make it happen until now. Villain, don't act like I don't know how you've wanted this as well..." A hand tugged at the knot on Villains robe. "You certainly showed me last night~"

"Don't, it's too cold out here," A hand fell onto Heros, and stopped their tugging in a second. Villain intertwined their hands and could feel Hero relax from the bit of tension they carried. With a sigh, Villain closed their laptop, and turned in Heros embrace to face them. Villain ran chilled hands up Heros chest to settle on their shoulders.

"Bring me back to bed."

Villain could hear the smile in Heros hum while they kissed. Feel the relief in the arms which enveloped them and carried them back to bed. See in every brief but focused gaze between breathless kisses of Heros truthful nature. It felt too good to be true, but so did their lips against Villains tender neck, yet they were undeniably there.

And now, Hero was undeniably theirs.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #writing #my writing #indulgence series #i hope you enjoy!

[laughingsapphic-creates]

Inukag Fluff Week, day 1: Comfort

This is sort of an... Interlude? If sorts? To my day one post from inukag week at the beginning of the summer. Either story can be read as standalones, but they are compliant w/ one another, and if you enjoy this, I think you'll enjoy that. This takes place after the exposition but before the dialogue starts in that one

@inukagfluffweek

~~~~~~

You're There in the Dark

"Inuyasha?" Kagome whispered tentatively into the darkness of the hut. The fire had long since died, and Sango & Miroku had gone to bed in the other room with their children and left Kagome and Inuyasha alone in the main room. Only starlight from the window illuminated the home, the moon dark but for the dim ring that marked its presence in the sky. Kagome sat up, leaning against the wall so she could spot the silhouette between the stars.

Every month for three years, she had glared at the black mark in the sky with disdain as she sneaked out to the well house, silently praying that whatever deity or force had opened the portal in the well to begin with would allow her through again. When she found herself on the dirt floor at the bottom, she instead pleaded for Inuyasha's safety, tears stinging her eyes as she looked up to the roof of the well house instead of the open sky she longed for, untouched by the light pollution of the city. She had only gotten precious few human nights with him, and they had almost always been dangerous if not deadly. And she knew - she knew - that the others would protect him, and there was no Naraku to threaten his safety anymore, but she couldn't be there. She couldn't protect him from whatever might try and hurt him, and she hated knowing that.

Now though, he lay beside her, just as he had for the two weeks since her return to the medieval period. He had clung to her almost from the minute she'd returned, rarely stepping out of arm's reach for more than a moment. It had been the most welcome change among many that she had embraced eagerly while reestablishing herself in the feudal era. Of course they still argued. Almost daily, even. But she was much less likely to storm off in a huff if she was arguing from Inuyasha's lap. From her first night back, when Kagome had crawled to where he'd been seated to sleep and tucked herself under his arm, they had made a habit of curling up together. She'd finally gotten him to lay beside her last week, rather than propping himself up against the wall, but he still put himself between her and the door, the same way he always had when they slept indoors.

Tonight, she had very intentionally gotten up with the excuse of getting a cup of water and returned to his other side, taking the spot closer to the door. Acting as a barrier between the man she loved in his most vulnerable state, and anything and everything that might seek to do him harm. He'd arched a brow at her, but she gave him a look that brokered no argument, and he made none, his face going a bit red in the low light of the small fire they had used to cook dinner.

Taking a deep breath, Kagome turned to look at the sleeping form besides her, smiling softly. His dark human hair was much less visible than his usual stark white in the barely-there light, but Kagome could make out the shape of his face, peaceful and relaxed by sleep. Reaching up, Kagome ran her fingers gently through his hair, tracing the shape of his human ear.

She couldn't see his eyebrows furrow, but she imagined they must have when she heard a soft grunt.

"K'gome?"

"Right here," She assured quietly, smoothing her fingers through his hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you.

She heard a soft huff of breath and the slide of fabric on fabric as he reached over, and she felt two strong arms wrap around her waist.

"Get back here, wench," he muttered, face half-pressed to her waist. Kagome giggled, stroking his hair again.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised, smiling into the darkness. He stayed there a bit longer before rolling over, looking up at her from where his head now rested in her lap. Her hand came to rest on his chest, covered only by the white underlayer of his suikan. The fire rat overlayer, which they had used as a blanket when they first laid down, was now mostly crumpled beneath him.

"You okay?" He asked after a long moment of silence, and she could feel his eyes on her.

"... Do you remember the first new moon I spent with you?"

He was quiet for a beat, and then groaned softly. "Ugh. The spider priest."

"That's the one," she nodded, mirth in her voice as her fingers toyed gently with the collar of his shirt. "I think… that was the first time it really hit me that you weren't as indestructible as you seemed," she confessed, placing her free hand over her heart. "I'd seen you get hurt before that, but you'd always bounced back. When you told me to run, to save myself... I was so terrified that I was going to lose you."

"You let me lay in your lap like this then, too," he remembered after a moment, turning his head towards her stomach. "... It was the first time since my mother was alive that someone worried about my safety like that."

"And then I never stopped," she chuckled, smoothing his collar back into place. "I know how strong you are, and that you can handle most situations, but it's never stopped me from worrying."

She thought about the last few dark moons; it hadn't taken long for her family to catch on to where she was disappearing to. After she explained Inuyasha's night of vulnerability, they'd been their usual level of understanding. Often she'd wake up slumped against the well with a blanket over her shoulders, or with Sota curled up against her side. It got easier as time passed, but she had never once gone a new moon without feeling that visceral fear that something would happen on the other side of the well without her there to help protect him. The memory alone made the dull ache of the fear flare up again, and her fingers clenched in his shirt.

"Not once."

She looked down again when she felt his hand slide over hers, strong callused fingers wrapping around her own.

"When you were gone… I spent most new moons down the well," he confessed, the pad of his thumb running over the smooth skin of her wrist. "Once the others figured it out, they started coming with, sitting out in the field, so they were always nearby. I just… wanted to be close to you.

Kagome smiled softly, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. Blinking them back, she turned her hand in his, lifting his so she could kiss his knuckle.

"They say great minds think alike, but fools rarely differ," she hummed, lowering their clasped hands to his collar again. "And you know I've always been a fool for you."

The first gray light of dawn began to lend shape to their surroundings, and she could truly see him looking up at her now, his dark human eyes starting to go golden around the edges.

"I'm so glad you're here, Kagome," he admitted, squeezing her hand. She squeezed back, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

"It's good to be home."

#Inuyasha #inukag #inukagfluffweek #inukagfluffweek2023 #tayto writes

[summer-nights19]

I'm not her part 4

Haruka Tenoh + Ko Seyia x gn reader cw: possessiveness, slight degradation (?), explicity sexual references Thank you for the request. This was so fun to write !

You were woken up by a beam of bright sunlight entering a window. Still half asleep, you let your gaze travel up to the face of the woman asleep next to you with her limbs tangled in your own, her arms pulling your face against her soft boobs. Sleeping like that, Seyia looked peaceful, even angelic. She looked completely different to the woman who'd made you cum until your legs were shaking last night and you'd completely lost count of the orgasms. This was the woman who, after the concert, had driven you back to the apartment in her limousine, pushed you onto the bed and completely ripped off your clothes like it was just an everyday occurrence for her.

Which, to be honest, it probably was.

You sat up, remembering that your shift at Rei's shrine was about to start. Being late would not be a good look, especially after you'd relied on her completely for a place to crash. As soon as you shifted, however, you felt a muscular arm pull you back.

"And just where do you think you're going ?" Seyia was smirking and looking at you through half lidded eyes.

"I have work soon, so..." even after last night, something about this woman's presence made you feel flustered in a way you couldn't explain. All your thoughts seemed to melt away into nothing when she looked at you.

"I can drive you, relax," Seyia replied lazily. "Besides," she continued, her smirk growing as she let her gaze drift to the ripped underwear and blouse lying in a heap next to the bed. "It's not like you have anything to wear yet,"

You felt the heat rush to your face.

"And whose fault is that, exactly ?" Who says prodding the sleeping dragon always has to be a bad thing ?

"Drop the attitude, baby. Or do you want me to fuck it out of you that bad ?"

A surge of heat immediately rushed to your legs as you averted your gaze and tried to hide your face with your hands.

The thought was more tempting than you cared to admit, especially considering it had just been a one night stand, a way to prove that, even if Haruka left you, you were still desirable. Still attractive.

You were still stood there, unmoving as Seyia made her way to her walk in closet and picked out a simple white blouse and some loose black trousers for you. You muttered a quick thanks and took the clothes from her.

"Need any help getting dressed ?" she asked as she wrapped herself in a semi-transparent black robe. Before you had the chance to reply, she walked over to you again and started to slip the blouse on your frame, her long fingers teasing your skin with slow, deliberate movements. When she finally reached your chest, you had to suppress a grunt.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Y/N ? I'm just helping you dress," Seyia said as she inched her her face closer to your own and started to leave a trail of kisses and gentle bites on your ear. Just as you were starting to grind your pelvis against her, she pulled away and flashed you a teasing grin. You whimpered, feeling empty without the warmth of her touch.

"Look at yourself, Y/N," Seyia said with something like satisfaction in her voice

For the first time since las night, you looked at yourself properly in Seyia's mirror.

Your body was completely covered in large purplish hickeys, some in places that would be quite difficult to cover.

"How will I cover these up ? I don't have any scarves or makeup or-"

"Don't. Let the whole world know who makes you feel this good now. You're my little slut," Seyia replied, still admiring the marks all over your skin.

You nodded, your mind reverting back to the trancelike state it had been in last night, until Seyia spoke again.

"Well, we should probably get going if you wanna be on time to that shift," she thrust a pair of chunky boots in your direction. "As adorable as you look in my oversized clothing, it probably won't be comfortable to constantly step on the trouser hems,"

You nodded, burying your nose in the material of the blouse as you bent down to put the boots on. It smelled like musky, pine wood perfume and laundry detergent. As soon as you started to walk towards the door, however, you realised how difficult moving your legs properly was. They felt shaky and unstable, kind of like they were made of jelly.

"Looks like I was a little too rough, sorry about that" Seyia said, with a grin that made it clear that this was exactly what she had intended. Before you could come up with a comeback, she'd swept you off your feet and was carrying you, bridal-style, towards her car.

***

AS you were enjoying your lunch break in the peace of the shrine, your phone started ringing. You picked it up, almost dropping when you saw the contact name.

Haruka bae is calling

You stood completely still for a few seconds, completely in shock. Then, before you had even processed what you were doing, your thumb pressed the green "accept" button.

"Y/N ? What took you so long to pick up ?"

Still too stunned to speak, you tried to pull yourself together and answer, but Haruka beat you to it.

"Never mind. Listen, have you seen tody's issues of all the tabloids and celebrity gossip magazines ?"

"No," you managed to reply. Why on earth was your ex fiancée asking you about fucking celebrity gossip magazines ? She had never been interested in such things. Under different circumstances, you would have bust a gut laughing.

"Well, they're all plastered with pictures of you in that idol's car... Seyia I think her name was. Don't you think before you act ? How do you think it makes me look, that my ex is fooling around with flashy idols not a month after our breakup ? The press will have a field day. God, what are you even doing, letting yourself be picked up by random women like that. Don't you have any self respect or are you just that desperate ?!"

Unprecedented rage was coursing through your veins and conquering your mind. Suddenly, all the shock was completely gone.

"You really have the fucking audacity to ask me how I think it makes YOU look, Haruka ? YOU were literally the one who cheated on me and dumped me, not the other way round. And you know what ? I don't give a flying fuck about your stupid reputation. I'm free to lead life how I want now, and you don't get a say in anything that I do. So if I want to go around and sleep with every woman from here to America, it's none of your fucking business and you sure as hell can't stop me,"

You hung up before she had a chance to reply, still fuming. However, as you sat there and avoided the judgemental glances of the shrine visitors, you felt a bubble of something rise up in your chest that you hadn't felt in so long, you'd almost forgotten what it was. The more you sat there and thought about that phone call, the more this magical sensation spread through your body and made you feel light, invincible.

For the first time in months, you were in control of your own life.

Masterlist

#sailor moon fanfiction #sailor moon x reader #sailor moon #haruka tenoh fanfic #haruka x reader #haruka tenoh x reader #ko seiya #ko seiya fanfic #ko seiya x reader #gn reader #smut #cheating