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#And after sampling a good few... I came to a realization.
stardestroyer81 · 1 year
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Gee, Peppibot Factory sure looks different today.
With the one Pizza Tower title card meme making the rounds lately, I figured I'd join in on the fun with my own contribution starring none other than the super fighting robot, Mega Man! This might just be my biggest sprite piece yet this year, and I am BEYOND thrilled that I was able to pull this off! 💙✨
(I highly recommend opening this image in a new tab for closer viewing if you want a better look at the little details!)
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ellemj · 4 months
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Making Sure: 12 Days of Smut #3 - Sex Pollen
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: Bucky is exposed to a sex pollen while the two of you are snowed in, stuck in a cabin in the Swiss Alps after finishing up a mission. Oh, and of course, you happen to be his ex-girlfriend.
Warnings: profanity, dubcon (sex pollen), possessive!Bucky, breeding kink, unprotected sex, mutual pining of sorts, some use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 4k
A/N: My laptop decided it didn't want to turn on today, and then when it finally turned on it didn't want to run any apps so 12 Days of Smut almost became 11 Days of Smut. But anyway, let me know if you guys like this one! For once, it doesn't involve anyone hating anyone or an obscene amount of unbearable tension (which I severely miss).
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            It’s not all that hard to work with your ex, not when you ended on decent terms. Well, as decent as they could have been. When Bucky broke up with you three months ago, it wasn’t completely out of the blue. You hadn’t been having any problems, you never had any fights, but you knew he was never as into the relationship as you were. He had said from the very beginning that he didn’t think he ever wanted a lifelong commitment. The majority of his life had been spent without having true freedom to make his own decisions. It’s safe to say the man only had about six years of making decisions for himself, between turning eighteen and joining the army. Then the army had a say in everything he did until he was taken by HYDRA. HYDRA controlled him for so long, and honestly, they still have some form of control over him if you consider his nightmares and insomnia issues. So, when things started to feel a little too serious between you two, when Bucky started to realize that he actually loved you, that’s when he called it off.
            You’d both agreed to keep the relationship between yourselves, remaining professional at work and around the others. Even Sam had never figured it out. Bucky was so good at keeping it hidden, staying completely stoic unless he was positive you were both alone. When things ended between you two, he became stoic all the time. There have been a few times where you’ve felt a bit angry with how easily he can just shut himself off and pretend like you never had anything between you. You think you might’ve been in love with him. How can you be stoic around him when you loved him? You can’t be. So, instead of being stoic, you’re just a little more quiet than usual. You get your job done, you speak to him as professionally as you can, and then you get away from him.
            Unfortunately though, there’s no getting away from him tonight. Technically, your mission is already over. You broke into HYDRA’s only remaining functional lab, you stole at least one sample of each of the various compounds that they were working on, and then you got the hell out of there. You made it all the way back to the safehouse, a small rustic cabin a little ways up in the Swiss Alps. It had been snowing for the last twenty-four hours that you’d been here, but the winter weather came to a head to today on your drive back from the break-in. By the time you got all of the samples safely inside the cabin, there was no way either of you could make the drive back down the mountain to reach the quinjet. You’re stuck here for the night.
            “I want them kept at a pretty low temperature overnight, well below thirty degrees.” Bruce has been watching you over a video call as you’ve been cataloging the samples and packing them safely into a padded case. “It’d probably be best to leave them all in the trunk of the car, since it’s so cold out there.” Bucky’s sitting in the living area while you’re working at the kitchen table, but he’s still listening in. He’s listened for the last half hour as you labeled the samples and hummed a little Christmas tune to yourself. Truthfully, he almost forgot that Christmas is in a few days until he heard you humming that song that you love so much. What was it? He can never remember the name, but he recognizes it from last Christmas. You sang it often and he was lucky enough to still be yours then, to still get the privilege of listening to you flit around the tower so festively, infecting everyone around with your cheerful spirit.
            “They all fit in the case except for one, but it should be fine. I’ll just stick it in the trunk next to the case and slip it into my bag tomorrow before we drive out.” You say, holding up the thin glass flask containing a very watery, clear liquid. It looks the least terrifying, out of all of the chemicals you retrieved from the lab today.
            “Good work today, we’ll see you guys back here tomorrow, if the weather permits.” Bruce gives a little wave before ending the video call. Just as you’re closing the heavy black case of samples, Bucky rises from his seat on the couch and joins you in the kitchen.
            “I’ll take them out.” He offers, staying a few feet away from you but at least making eye contact with you. He doesn’t seem to look at you very often since you broke up, but you can’t complain about it. It makes it a little easier to get over him when you’re not drowning in his blue eyes. You give him a curt nod before sliding the case across the table and then setting the sealed flask of clear liquid on top of it.
            “Try not to jostle them around too much, carry it with two hands.”
            “Got it, two hands.” Bucky repeats. You watch as he lifts the case, leaving the glass flask resting on the lid. You think about carrying the lone chemical out there in your own hands, worrying that Bucky might tip the case a little too far and let the flask fall to the ground outside, but you brush off the worry. He’s never been clumsy, and he sure as hell hasn’t ever been careless. It’ll be fine. It’s just a short walk from the front door to the back of the car.
            In retrospect, you should’ve listened to your instincts.
            When Bucky rushes in the front door only a minute after he’s stepped outside with the chemicals, a sickening feeling settles deep in your stomach. You quickly turn to the source of commotion as he slams the door shut behind him and starts nearly jogging across the cabin, heading straight for the bathroom at the end of the hall.
            “Bucky? What happened?” You call out, your feet carrying you down the hall after him. Bucky strips off his coat, dropping it on the floor in the hall before throwing the bathroom door open and ripping off his shirt. He doesn’t even close the bathroom door. You step over his coat and come to a stop in the doorway as he leans down and turns on the shower.
            “Stay back.” He warns, giving you a sideways glance that makes your stomach flip. “I slipped on a patch of ice and the little glass thing on top of the case fell and shattered. Whatever was in it evaporated quick, but I inhaled a lot of it. I don’t know if I got any on me.”
            Shit. This is not good. Bucky starts unbuckling his belt, but stops himself after he gets it undone, finally turning and looking you straight in the eye. Right. You’re not together anymore.
            “Only rinse, don’t use soap. We don’t know what the chemical was or what might interact with it.” You say, forcing your voice to sound calmer than you feel. Bucky nods, and then shuts the door between the two of you. Shit. You knew you should’ve carried that damn flask yourself.
---
            Half an hour later, after Bucky’s finished showering and is resting on the couch per yours and Bruce’s orders, he begins to feel something. He wanted to go to bed, just sleep it off and see how he felt in the morning, but you and Bruce insisted that he stay in the living room and awake so you could monitor him for any weird signs or symptoms. You miss the first few symptoms that Bucky begins to feel. First, his heart rate began picking up. It was so miniscule at first that even he didn’t notice it, but it increased more and more until he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Then, even in the chilly little cabin with a near-blizzard raging outside, Bucky began to feel hot. Hot to the point of wanting to take off everything he was wearing and go lay in the snow. Now he sits on the couch, breathing a little quicker than he was earlier, with beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. It’s his increased respiratory rate that you notice first. Then, as you begin looking him over from your far away seat at the kitchen table, you see the way his cheeks are flushed and the way his dark gray t-shirt is beginning to stick to the sweat coming off of his back. Shit. Whatever it was that he was exposed to, it sure as hell wasn’t nothing.
            You’re just about to ask Bucky what he’s feeling when he abruptly stands from the couch and looks right at you, his gaze wild and pupils blown.
            “Bucky—” You start, but he cuts you off in an instant.
            “I don’t know what was in that flask, but I’ll be fine. I’m not going to sit out here all night.” Bucky’s trying to play it off. He has no fucking idea if he’ll actually be fine, but the newest physiological response his body is having to the chemical isn’t one he wants you to become aware of. He’s aroused. His cock is harder than it’s ever been, and he’d rather sleep outside on the icy road and get run over by Santa’s fucking sleigh then stay this close to you. He worries he won’t be able to control himself if he has to look at you one more time tonight, if he even hears another breath leave your lips, he’ll be done for.  
            “Bucky, tell me what you’re feeling.” You say softly, pushing your chair away from the table and standing, but not daring to move any closer to where he stands in the living room. He scrunches his eyes closed and presses his vibranium hand to the back of his neck in an attempt to cool the skin there.
            “Y/n, I’m going to bed.” He sounds so frustrated. It’s a tone of voice you actually recognize. This is how he used to sound when you’d tease him at the worst times, when you were somewhere that restricted him from being able to touch you, to fuck you.
            “Is it what I think it is?” You ask, your voice impossibly quieter than before. Bucky’s eyes snap open now and he studies you. Looking at you makes his dick throb and his balls feel so fucking full and heavy. He closes his eyes again as quickly as he opened them and then, you’re sure. It was a fucking sex pollen.
            You don’t dare make a move to stop Bucky when he hurries down the hall and locks himself in his bedroom. You stand frozen in the kitchen for the next two minutes, trying to figure out what the hell you should be doing in a situation like this. You end up doing what you do best: researching. You sit yourself right back down at the table and open your laptop, quickly accessing the online archive of SHIELD research files. You type in every word you can possibly think of to find what you need. Luckily, the first article that pops up is exactly what you needed.
            You skim through it at lightning speed, your eyes picking up on the important details. Heightened senses, increases sexual drive ten-fold, may result in permanent disability or death if state of intense arousal is not rectified. Shit, this is bad. You’re wondering how the hell one is supposed to rectify the intense arousal when your eyes land on the most key piece of information in the entire article. Human trials have revealed that allowed the specimen to engage in sexual intercourse is the only successful way to return to a normotensive physiological state.
            You have to fuck. You have to convince him to have sex with you. You have to convince the man who broke up with you three months ago to have sex with you. You’ve suddenly decided that you fucking hate your job.
            However, you’re not going to sit around while Bucky becomes permanently disabled or lets himself die of exposure to a damn HYDRA sex pollen. So, you slam your laptop shut and march right down the hall. You tap your knuckles against his bedroom door three times, until you hear the bed creak slightly, so you at least know he’s alive. He doesn’t make a single move to answer the door. He’s sitting on the side of the bed, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress so hard that it’ll probably never spring back into shape. His sense of hearing is heightened so much that he can hear every breath you take. He thinks he can even hear the sound of your eyelashes fluttering as you blink.
            “Bucky, I did some research.” God, just the sound of your voice might be enough to make him cum in his sweats. Bucky bites his bottom lip and looks down at where his erection is fighting to escape the confines of his sweats. “If this is a sex pollen, which I think we both know it is, it can kill you. The only way to fix this is to…” Your voice trails off, but you don’t have to finish your sentence for Bucky to know what the solution is here. But he won’t ask that of you. He refuses to ask you to sleep with him. He knows he broke your heart three months ago, and he’d be the world’s biggest asshole if he used you for relief now. So, he stays silent. “We could…”
            You can’t seem to finish any of your sentences. Why is it so hard for you to say we could fuck. Oh, right. Because you’ve missed the way he fucks for months. Because you know that if he wasn’t under the influence of this chemical right now, he sure as hell wouldn’t be turned on around you. You’d happily have sex with him right now, but he’d only be doing it because he has to do it to survive.
            “I know I’m probably the last person that you’d want to be offering this, but I’m offering. I don’t want you to sit in there and die.” You say softly, your voice cracking a little bit on the final word. The last person he’d want to be offering this? Fuck, you have no idea how he really feels, do you? Bucky screws his eyes shut and fights back the urge to throw the door open and tell you how much he fucking loves you, how much he’s missed you. It’s why he broke up with you in the first place. What if something happened one day that turned him right back into the Winter Soldier? What if he ended up on ice again and by the time he came out of cryo, you were dead and gone? He had to break up with you, because he felt like his future was always too unclear to promise it to someone.
            “I’m here, Bucky, if you need me.” You whisper, with your forehead pressed against the cool wood of the door. He can tell that you’re hurting for him. It’s why, against his rational mind, he finds himself crossing the room and tugging the door open. When he sees you standing there in the light of the hallway, he can hear that little Christmas tune that you love so much playing in his head. Fuck it.
            You’ve barely had a second to realize that Bucky’s just opened the door for you before you feel his hand fist in your hair and he yanks you forward against his chest. His mouth captures yours in a heated kiss. Bucky sucks your bottom lip between his and wastes no time in using his hold on your hair to tilt your head to the side and slide his tongue into your mouth. You act on muscle memory, kissing him the same way you used to every single day. You let his tongue dance around your mouth, but when he begins to pull back you suck on it lightly, earning a groan from him. He tastes just like you remember, and suddenly you want him so badly that for all you know you could have some sex pollen coursing through your veins.
            “The last person I’d want to be offering this?” Bucky rasps against your lips, briefly looking into your eyes as he repeats your words in question. “You’re the only person I’d want to be offering this.” He pulls on your hair again, tilting your head further to the side and sucking on the skin right below your ear. Your eyes close as you try to calm your racing heart, reminding yourself that as perfect as this might feel right now, it won’t last.
            It takes mere seconds for Bucky to pull you into his room and practically throw you onto his bed. When he crawls over you a second later, it’s like he’s suddenly realized you both still have your clothes on. He stands back up beside the bed and strips quickly, exposing every bit of his fucking heavenly body to you. You don’t even try to choke back the whimper that leaves your lips. Bucky freezes when he hears it. He’s heard it before. He’s heard it in his dreams, ever since you broke up. It’s sort of funny. He never had dreams before, only nightmares. Until he broke up with you, and then he started having dreams about you every night. They’ve replaced nearly every nightmare. Instead of HYDRA being the reason he’s up at night, it’s all you.
            You start shimmying out of your pants right there on the bed as you look at Bucky, too impatient to stand up and take everything off like he did. He strokes his cock slowly in one hand, but every time his palm glides over the tip he makes a face like he’s in pain. You know from your brief research that touching himself won’t give him an ounce of relief, it’ll only make things worse. So, once you have your pants off, you reach up and grab his wrist, stopping his stroking, and pulling him closer to the bed. He gets the hint and positions himself on top of you again, spreading your legs apart with his knee before settling between them.
            “I’ve missed you.” Bucky coos against the side of your neck, right as you feel the head of his cock brushing against your clit through your already soaked panties. He didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t want to make the break up any harder for you, but fuck. He’s missed having you under him like this, though in the past you never kept your panties and shirt on when you were under him.
            “I’ve been right here.” You respond quietly, letting your hands coast down his sides until you feel the way his back muscles are rigid underneath your palms. He’s restraining himself. “Bucky, you don’t have to hold back.” He sighs deeply and grinds his cock against you, hard. It draws a moan from your lips that’s so needy, Bucky can’t wait any longer. He knows he’s only waited a minute at this point, but he just can’t anymore. He reaches down between the two of you and snags a finger in your panties, deftly pulling them to the side and guiding his cock straight into you without warning. The cry that escapes you isn’t one of pain or surprise, it’s one of pure lust. It might’ve been three months since the last time you had sex, but your body accepts his cock like it never left. There’s no pain, there’s only pleasure as he starts fucking into you slowly. He builds the pace up in mere seconds, speeding up more and more until he’s fucking you so hard and fast that the headboard is snapping against the wall and scratching the paint.
            “God, you’re still so fucking tight for me.” He groans, burying himself balls deep inside you. He stays still for a moment, letting your pussy grip his cock like a vice.
            “It’s still yours.” You whisper the words against his jawline. When his eyes snap open and stare straight into yours, you know you probably shouldn’t have said it. His pupils are already overly dilated, but they expand a little more as possessiveness flares in his chest. He always loved when you let him know who your pussy belonged to. He fucking loved it.
            Wait. The realization hits you both at the same time. He isn’t wearing a condom. As he looks into your eyes, his face falls and your eyes widen. He never once fucked you without a condom on. It was part of his whole no-long-term-commitment thing. He didn’t want to risk an unintentional pregnancy, so he never let himself fuck you raw. When he starts to pull out, you’re quick to wrap your legs around him and lock him in place.
            “Don’t.” You plead. You want this. You’ve always wanted this. Bucky bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, trying to find a single rational thought in his mind. He knows he shouldn’t do this, he knows he should pull out and find a fucking condom. But will he?
             The answer is no. He uses what little space you give him between your legs to start thrusting into you again, slower this time, but still every bit as deep as before.
            “If you don’t let me pull out…” He starts, but you pull his face down to yours and silence him with a kiss. After a few seconds, he picks up his pace and begins fucking you relentlessly once again, further ruining the paintjob on the bedroom wall behind the headboard.
            “I always wanted you to fuck me like this.” You sigh against his lips. You feel Bucky’s entire body tense up as he nears his release, your words egging him on.
            “Oh, baby, I always wanted to fuck you like this.” He admits, snapping his hips into yours and getting you that much closer to the edge. As your orgasm threatens to tear through you, something weighs heavy on Bucky’s mind. He wants to cum inside you. He loves you but he’s always told himself he can’t have you, because his future is so unclear, he can’t make promises to you and possibly break them. But…he’s a good guy. If he were to knock you up, he’d do the right thing. The traditional thing. He’d marry you and take such good care of you, of the little family you’d have together. Maybe that’s what he should do. He thinks that maybe if he gets you pregnant right now, it would force him to give you his future, no matter how much it scares him. He’d be so much more concerned with doing the right thing in the present, rather than worrying about what might happen in the future. “Let me cum inside you.”
            “You can, Bucky. You can cum inside me.” You moan out, locking your ankles together behind him and pulling him harder against you. He groans and presses another kiss to your lips, but a gentler one this time.
            “You’ll have a baby for me.” He doesn’t even phrase it as a question, no, he’s telling you what you’ll do. “You’ll let me get you pregnant, and then you’ll be mine.”
            “Fuck…” The curse falls from your lips as bliss surges through you. You can’t even find the words to say what you want to say, which is fuck yes. So, you lay there submissively, with your legs wrapped around him as he fucks every drop of cum that he has into you. Then, you catch your breath while he pulls his cock out of you and slides your panties back over your sore cunt. You even let him pile the pillows beneath your hips and legs, elevating your pelvis to make sure his cum won’t drip back out of you.
            Fuck. He really wants to make sure you’re pregnant after this.
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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There are so many fics out there where Danny is either adopted by or the biological son of Bruce. In many of these he might have an existential crisis but other wise he is fine and happy to be part of the BatFam. Where are the ones where he fights against this just doesn't want to connect with Bruce of the rest of the family.
One: Bruce is a billionaire and Danny has had some bad experience with Vlad trying to adopt/get him as a son. So even if Bruce is one of "the good ones" Danny does't like billionaires.
Two: Danny for the most part grew up in a mostly normal family and home, with two Parents and a sibling. Most of the BatFam were only children and parents are dead or came from dysfunctional homes. I think Duke is the only one who really had a normal childhood.
Three: The Fenton family is pretty openly affectionate with each other and are pretty normal emotionally. Danny has a great relationship with all of them (Danny went evil in the timeline where they all died). Most of the Batfam is emotionally constipated.
Four: Danny is used to his boundaries being respected. I don't think that the Batfam is great at that. With Bruce needing to know everything, Tim's stalking tendencies, Barbra's hacking, just to name the obvious.
Danny knew that he was adopted into the Fentons. His parents had never hidden it from him, but they never treated him as anything besides their child.
He had come into their lives one day when one of Maddie's old high school friends had called, bawling that she had gotten pregnant and that her husband wasn't the father. He had discovered the truth and thrown her out, leaving her pregnant and alone on the streets of Gotham.
Maddie had been furious at the affair- she hated disloyalty- but had decided to help her only for the baby's sake.
She had driven over multiple state lines back to her home city to pick up the friend only to find out she had taken her life and left her newborn son to Maddie. While Maddie had been able to escape the hellhole that was Gotham, Rebecca never got the chance, not with her average intelligence.
In high school, the two were as close as sisters until Rebecca fell into the whisky bottles her father carelessly left around. She blossomed into a beautiful woman upon their graduation- more so than Maddie-, turning from a sweet homebody into someone who got into exclusive parties and powerful men.
Maddie had slowly drifted away from her, so far away at college, and Rebecca fell further and further into the party scene. It was a surprise that she settled down for marriage and Maddie truly believed that she had been happy with her husband.
That's why Danny was such a surprise. Maddie did not know who Danny's biological father was, but she did not care. Not after they placed the sobbing infant into her arms, and she realized that she was his mother now.
She immediately phoned Jack to tell him what had happened, and he told Jazz she was a big sister before the call ended. They told him the story about when he started to learn his colors. Not with her taking her life, of course; that was when Danny turned fourteen. This was only a few days before Danny revealed he was Phantom to them.
They were first shocked, but then they became supportive. Phantom now had two proud ghost hunters following him, shooting photos instead of guns.
It was embarrassing, but it was also nice of them.
And that was that. Danny is a Fenton, adopted, but a child of Maddie and Jack Fenton all the same.
He never gave his biological parents a thought. In fact, he all but forgot about them until Sam convinced him to take an ancestry test. He had allowed her to swipe his mouth, package his DNA, and send it off to see where his people came from, completely forgetting that he would not match with Jazz, who had done the same thing a month prior.
His results were shocking, to say the least.
Somehow, someway, Rebecca Silver had been in the system of DNA samples, and they had matched him to her alongside his biological father.
Bruce Wayne. Rebecca had an affair with Bruce Wayne, arguably one of the wealthiest men in the country, and they had sent him a message to let him know he matched with his son.
An eccentric billionaire has just been told that Danny was his. He knew that song and dance well, and it was never fun to dance to. Danny could only stare at the results with dread as Sam apologized profoundly.
"Maybe he won't see it." Tucker tried. "I mean, Wayne is probably so busy with rich people stuff he doesn't have time to even look at his emails. Especially ones that will come in spam since it's comersolized."
"Yeah, Maybe" Danny doesn't think he's that lucky.
A month later, the Fenton's home phone rings. His parents are working on a new invention on the dinning room table, Danny is stretched out in front of the TV watching a mindless cartoon and Jazz is crocheting in the love chair.
It's a typical Tuesday night where everyone is doing their own thing but close enough to each other that they can call it family time. Jazz is the closest to the house phone so she picks it up with a cheerful "Fenton house, this is Jasmine."
Her smile slowly slips away as all the blood drains from her face. Alarmed by her reaction, Danny sits up. "Jazz? What's wrong?"
His words have his parents' heads snapping up, zoning in on their daughter's rapidly growing destress. Yes, they get distracted often with their work, but the Fentons have always been loving parents.
They quickly spring into action.
"Jazzy-pants?" His dad says, walking up to her and taking the phone from her slack hand. He covers the speaking end of it, not paying attention to the call as his mom hugs his sister. "What's the matter?"
"It's... Bruce Wayne's lawyer," Jazz says faintly. "He's calling about Danny. He said that Mr. Wayne has been attempting to take Danny back and that they are going to take us to court soon."
The room goes dead quiet, and Danny snorts. "He can't do that without a letter or something. Come on Jazz, it's obviously a prank."
Someone at school likely found out and thought it would be funny to make "the biggest loser of Casper High" Danny Fenton, think a billionaire wanted him as a son. Honestly, he wouldn't put it past the A-listers.
He laughs to show how stupid this prank is, but neither of his parents joins him. Instead, his mother closes her eyes and whispers, "We received his court papers weeks ago. We've been trying to get a lawyer."
What.
She pushes Jazz into his dad's arms, where his sister is slowly panicking. His dad tries to soothe her as his mom opens the drawer under the TV, pulling out three orange envelopes. She looks remorseful as she hands them to Danny. "We didn't want you to worry. I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner. Vlad said he would help, but he wasn't sure what he could do against such a powerful man"
And there, in overly complicated terms, is clear as day. Bruce Wayne wanted full custody of Danny Fenton and was willing to take the Fentons to court to get it done.
The man- who has never so much as met Danny, much less have a right to say what happens to him- was accusing his parents of child abuse and child neglect! He not only was trying to take Danny away but Jazz as well!
Where did this man get the audacity!?
"I don't want to go with him!" He shouts rage, making his eyes glow green. "I don't even know him!"
"I know, sweetie. I won't let him take you" His mom says, yanking him into a protective hug, and he realizes that her shirt is getting wet with his tears. Tears that fall just like the woman who raised him. "Everything will be alright."
It won't be, he knows, but he won't tell her that. He just lets his mother hold him, and when his sister and father crash into the hug a second later, he holds them just as tight.
He's not sure how they will win against Bruce Wayne, but Danny will fight his biological father every step of the way. He will not be his son.
______________________________________________________________
Bruce stares at the photo of Danny Fenton- his son. His boy, whom he wasn't aware was alive until a month ago- and the reports from concerned teachers and whatever information Barbra could pull from his classmate's social media.
Dramatically dropping grades.
Clear signs of sleepless nights.
Flinches whenever his parents pull out "ghost hunting" gear.
Strange bruises and cuts along his arms and legs.
His small stature is no longer growing properly like his peers.
It all pointed to one thing. The Fentons were abusing his son and Bruce would bet the sister was suffering from the same treatment if her own grade dropping, sleepless eyes, and desperate race to adulthood were any indication.
Bruce laces his hands, resting his chin on them as the Batcomputer slowly flips through various reports being quickly dismissed by incompetent social workers who all claim it was Ghost Hunter related and not a cause for concern.
Those same social workers all seemed to have gotten quite generous donations from one Vlad Masters, a well-known family friend of the Fentons.
He hates corruption that allows children to be hurt, more so when it;'s his own children.
"When do we go retrieve Brother?" Damian asks, green eyes narrowing in rage as the reports scroll slowly. Ever since he found out Danny is a blood sibling, all Damian has been talking about is getting his elder brother home. "I am displeased with how long it's been, Father."
"Soon," Bruce promises, aware the rest of his children gather around him. They don't speak, but he feels their protective rage at what Danny has gone through, and he knows they will use every last bit of their training to get Danny home. "Either through the courts or in person. Danny will be with us come summer."
"Good," grunts Jason. "I'll have a little chat with his adoptive scumbags when we get him."
"I'll help," Dick tacks on.
"I'll make it look like an accident," Tim says, voice leveled but eyes blazing as the reports get to the neglect section. He has personal issues about that.
Bruce has never been so proud. "Court date is set for three weeks. They can't weasel their way out of it this time."
Don't worry son, he thinks to Danny, I'm going to save you.
810 notes · View notes
mrswint3rs · 3 months
Note
i have a request🙏🙏i aint even gonna ask anonymously i am requesting this LOUD AND PROUD🦅🦅
female reader x wesker
reader and wesker work together and its like 2am since theyre working late and they go outside for some fresh air and share a cigarette together 😇😇😇 and that leads to them having the most disgraceful make out session ever and then wesker is needy asf that man is a brat and by the end of it he just leaves the readers legs shaking n sobbing 🦅
p.s- i love your writing its really good!! 🎀
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Partner in Crime ☽。⋆
pairings- Boss! Wesker x Fem! Assistant? reader
a/n- THANK YOU FOR THIS AMAZING REQUEST ! and im so glad you like my writing I really appreciate it <3 hope you enjoy this one (not proofread because im lazy)
NSFW WARNING :
contains- needy Wesker, Wesker planned to use reader as an experiment prior, unspoken romantic feelings, unprotected sex, brief use of pet names, age gap (reader is 20 and Wesker is 44) , breeding kink/ baby trapping ? ☁︎
⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧
Wesker had a plan for you from the very moment he laid his eyes on you. He had a keen eye for pretty little things such as you.
He figured you’d be easy to lure in. You were young, presumably naive and easy to manipulate.
He never suspected you’d become one of his most valuable and loyal assets. You were far from incompetent, he was entirely wrong about that.
Originally, you were nothing more than a test subject in his mind. You would be in his ongoing experiment into the development of the T-Virus. He would have you as a guinea pig, studying your blood, tissue, cells—anything you've got available—and then using it as test samples for further research.
Upon further studies, Wesker realized that you did possess an intelligence and ingenuity rivaling his own.
He came to realize that working with you was a far more effective way to achieve his overall goals for the future. With you by his side, he knew he could complete his experiments at a faster pace than he ever could on his own.
He needed someone just like you who was smart, cunning, and willing to do the dirty work necessary to advance his research.
So he changed tactics and began to work on winning you over, first by flattery and compliments, then by subtle manipulation and coercion. He knew that with enough time, you'd fall right into line.
You started to trust him, and even felt a little bit attracted to him. He had a way with words and his sharp intelligence made him even more appealing. You felt like he saw into your soul and understood everything about you. You felt connected to him. You had similar desires for the world.
Soon, you became his right hand man, doing most of his infiltration work. He has you sneaking around in secret missions, gathering information, and collecting samples of needed viruses. You become his most trusted associate and he relies upon you to carry out his darkest duties. You’re the one he trusts with all of his unspoken secrets.
Except for one.
He is capable of feeling love, and despite his attempts to hide it, he can't help but harbor growing feelings towards you. He would never admit it to anybody—especially not to himself—but there is a certain appeal and tenderness to you that he cannot deny.
It’s a secret that he would rather take to his grave, but it is also one of the few things that keeps him going throughout his dark and twisted journey.
You are the perfect girl for him. You understand him in a way that no one else can, carrying incomparable knowledge and morality. You see beyond the corruption and to the person underneath. You make him feel something that he has never felt before—an emotion that drives him to do things he never thought possible.
You are his strength and his weakness, the one thing that he can't live without.
The two of you worked hand in hand, never butting heads.
After you obtained the needed sample, fulfilling his orders, you both researched and developed the Plaga together, coming up with new ways to use it as a weapon.
You worked late nights, often staying up for days on end as you worked towards making the idea of complete global saturation a soon to be reality.
You are always there when he needs an able mind, helping to guide the progression of the project.
No matter the day of the week, the time, or how little you’re rewarded. You fulfill your duties promptly.
⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧
You’re both working late tonight; as always, just the two of you in the lab.
Wesker can’t deny how much he enjoys your company on its own, but even so, he tried his damndest to prioritize his evolution. He knew he more than likely was capable of completing these tasks on his own. But he liked it better with you around.
He hates not having you right at the hip, knowing you’re fully devoted to his cause.
He wasn’t entirely debased, he knew you were often overworked at his selfish call. You pushed yourself for him. “Up for a smoke break?” he suggests, putting his handy-work aside for a moment.
“Sure. Could use some fresh air.”
You don’t smoke very often, but you find yourself craving one right now. It's been a long night, and this is a nice chance to clear your head.
Wesker stands silently next to you as you arrive outside, staring off into the distance and taking puffs from his cigarette.
He offers it to you, and you draw closer to him.
You take a drag, enjoying the taste and the feel of his body next to yours. You feel your body relax, and the tension in your shoulders easing. The smoke fills your lungs with a tranquil warmth.
You continue to slowly take puffs from the cigarette, ashing back and forth with Wesker. The nicotine is having its desired effect, and you feel a sense of euphoria wash over you as the stress of the night slips away.
But you can hardly be calm with each passing.
There’s no denying the tension between you. His hand brushes against yours every chance it gets as you’re already standing against each other. Your breaths mix together at each exhale of smoke.
Neither of you are speaking but you don’t have to. Great minds think alike after all.
He makes the first move, growing tired of holding back.
Dropping the cig, you’re suddenly pressed against the concrete wall of the building, his lips completely devouring yours.
In no way do you resist.
He cups your face gently but he kisses you with intense need, his breath coming out in burning gasps into your mouth.
He made no attempt at being tidy. His saliva mixes with yours, aching to become one with you. He presses against you, longing to feel your form in full. His leg delves between yours, his knee hiking further up your tight, pencil skirt.
The contact against your sensitive bundle of nerves brings out a moan, only increasing Wesker’s oncoming thirst.
But you stop his hand as he cups you through the thin fabric of your panties, causing him to pull away conflicted. He thought you were on the same page.
“Too fast for you?”
You lay your head against his shoulder for a moment, hiding your embarrassment.
The simple gesture makes his stomach flutter. You got so overwhelmed so easily from his actions. He found it adorable.
“We shouldn’t…” you mumble, though your words contradict your actions.
“And why shouldn’t we? I’m fairly certain we both want this.”
Really you had no reason why you shouldn’t. And as he presses desperate kisses along the curve of your neck, suckling and tracing with the tip of his tongue, you lose all common sense.
Your hands unclasp his leather belt, swiftly removing it from the loops.
As you work the button of his pants, unzipping and dragging them down, he takes it as a green light, dropping your panties to your ankles. You step your heel covered feet out of them, discarding them to the dirt of the ground without care.
Wesker firmly flips you around, pressing your face into the wall and pinning your arms behind your back with one hand. The other bunches your skirt up over your ass, exposing you to the cool night air.
“Think you can handle me, darling?” He asks rhetorically. You were going to take it either way, you were already this far. Right in his hold.
He teased his hardness between the slick of your folds, the heat making you feel woozy.
He slapped it against your clit a couple times before positioning to your opening, teasing in and out with just the tip. You curve backwards into it, yearning for more than just teasing and he slides in fully with a low grunt.
You suck him in, greedily backing up on further on him.
At the stance you’re in, the head of his cock pokes and prods at just the right angle with every buck of his hips, making you mewl out embarrassingly loud.
Wesker slams into your tight cunt so fast he slips out a few times. You were oozing with arousal, drenching around his cock so much he could hardly keep it together.
He keeps his strong grip on your wrists, keeping you bound while he stuffs you full. “Feels so good…” he growls out, “Can’t believe I waited this long to feel you like this.”
“Can’t take it-“ you cry out in response to his merciless pounding. He doesn’t slow or even consider, instead propelling even further.
“You can, and you will.”
Take it like the good little slut that you are.” he coos, “You can do it darling. Take all of me.”
Tears fill your lash line, threatening to spill as he continues, the pleasure overriding all of your senses. You couldn’t think straight, only standing because of his robust hold on you.
Your legs go wobbly, tears spilling out as you reach your climax, the best you’d ever had. You fall completely limp, brain gone dumb.
He loses his small bit of control, cock pulsing and twitching inside you as his cum bursts out without warning.
His mind goes fuzzy, his mouth pouring out whiny ‘I love you’s along with your name repeatedly without thinking about it, feeling too over the moon to care about the repercussions of his words.
He meant them. You were his everything, and he was sure to make it so you remained that way.
So he fills you up with his sticky seed, needing you to cary that constant reminder of him within you.
He was going to keep you as his own, no matter the cost.
mlist
557 notes · View notes
drmaddict · 2 months
Text
Free by Choice
Summary: Simon and (Y/n) don't want children. After his vasectomy, (Y/n) realizes how much the fear of becoming a father has inhibited him.
Wordcount: 1.010
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She had never experienced Simon like this before.
"The tests look good. If you want to, you have green light."
As neither of them wanted children, Simon had decided to have a vasectomy.
As he had never had a relationship before and sex wasn't really a big issue, he had never given it much thought, but that had changed.
(Y/n) didn't want children either. They're cute as long as you can give them back. She was more than willing to be 'just' the cool aunt.
The decision was final for both of them. The pill worked, but this way (Y/n) could finally stop taking it and no one had to worry anymore.
"Good means absolutely safe?"
"Yes, Mr. Riley. Your last semen sample was positive... or rather negative."
Simon just nodded and held out his hand. The doctor tried to grab it, but Simon slapped it away and pointed to the papers.
The doctor handed them to him with a slight blush on his cheeks.
Simon skimmed the pages and nodded with satisfaction.
"Thanks, doc.", he mumbled.
The doctor nodded. "If there's anything, just let me know."
It wasn't until the evening, when they were both lying on the sofa, that it started. Simon began to gently kiss her jaw, letting his hands wander under her shirt.
If only she had known then, what was in store for her.
Three hours later she wasn't really sure, whether she still had a functioning brain cell. She was lying on her stomach, exhausted and drooling on the bed. She hadn't really come down from her last high when she felt Simon's lips on her back again. Her breath caught. Simon moaned with pleasure and a little laugh underneath. "Just one more little mouse. Seven is a lucky number.", he whispered in her ear and bit tenderly into the shell of her ear.
The next morning, everything hurt. Her thighs were covered in bite marks. Her back was a mess. Her neck felt like her thighs looked and all in all, she was mostly sore. No matter how gently Simon had rubbed her with ointment.
Surprisingly, he was still sleeping next to her. Usually he would have been up and away by the time she got up. He had already trained and made breakfast, but today he was lying on his pillow, slumbering, with a cute little pout on his lips.
She turned to him with a smile. What had gotten into him? They'd had good sex, but this? Despite being on the pill, he always insisted on using a condom. He usually never came more than once inside her. Despite everything, he often pulled out and came on her. She had just assumed he was into it, but after last night?
Had he been so afraid of having a child? Had this procedure taken such a weight off his shoulders?
He moves slightly.
His eyes opened slowly.
"Morning," he mumbled.
"Morning," she simply replied.
He rubbed his face and stretched. "Fuck. My back." he grumbled.
She laughed. "Serves you right."
He didn't answer that.
She snuggled against his shoulder. He buried his nose in her hair.
"You realize, you have to carry me everywhere today, right?"
"Hm. Anywhere you want."
"Why didn't you do this before, if it was weighing you down so much?"
He closed his eyes again. "I have a therapist for that kind of talk.", he mumbled.
She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm serious."
He sighed. "I've never had a relationship and the one night stands were rare and sporadic." He shrugged. "Wasn't necessary up to this point. Sorry, if it was too much."
She kissed his shoulder. "It's okay. Just remember that, when I get ugly, after I get off the pill."
"Why would you get ugly?"
"Hormonal acne and hair loss are definitely coming."
He grinned. "I've been through the meat grinder once and you're worried about a few pimples?"
She pouted. "That's a sensitive subject."
He tousled her hair, "I'll help you squeeze them out, too."
She smacked him on the chest with a grin and no emphasis. He laughed.
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Five months later
Simon looked at the nutritional supplement packs that had been piling up in her kitchen for the last few months.
(Y/n's) skin had rebelled briefly, but the worst of it seemed to have subsided. For two weeks, she had been in so much pain because of the inflammation under her skin that she had sometimes stood in the shower crying.
Simon had given her every bath that could even help in the least.
But now, two months later, it had subsided. Things seemed to be settling down, even if they weren't perfect yet. She had an appointment with her beautician today and Simon had thankfully stayed at home.
He was reading the newspaper, when he heard the front door open and close again.
(Y/n) came into the small kitchen. Her skin was still shiny from some cream, but she seemed to be glowing somehow.
Unimpressed, she threw her bag onto a chair and sat astride his lap. She immediately pressed her lips to his and wrapped her arms around his neck. Taken by surprise, he tried to figure out what was going on when she pulled at his shirt. He had no idea what was about to happen.
Hours later, he lay wrung out on the bed, breathing heavily.
"I want another round. When can you manage that?"
"Today?" He looked at her in shock. She nodded.
He looked up at the ceiling, shocked. "Nothing happens here for the next three to five business days."
She looked at him, pouting.
"What's gotten into you?" he asked, pulling her hand towards him, which was already exploring again.
"Not only is my skin fourteen again, but it looks like my libido is too."
"But I'm no longer fourteen mouse... My jaw hurts... And my back."
She grinned. "Will you at least take a bath with me?"
"At least? That was eight rounds!"
"Nine is a lucky number."
"Oh Fuck."
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shmaptainwrites · 3 months
Text
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]
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PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — James has a huge crush on his labmate, the only question is how long will it take him to ask her out? (Answer: it's longer than you think)
WARNINGS — cancer mentions, patient death from cancer, drugs, alcohol (don't be mistaken this fic is tooth-rotting fluff)
NOTE — Okay this fic has come up from my compulsory need to elaborate on anything Canadian so if you ever wanted to see James at McGill, this fic is most definitely for you! Also I guess it's indirectly mentioned that reader was raised in Quebec, but obviously doesn't have to be "Quebecois" for this to work
Pronounciation — Jian = Chyehn
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James chewed on the inside of his cheek as he walked up to the Stewart Biological Sciences Building on McGill campus. For some reason, it was so much more intimidating now that he was actually a student. During the tour he had his mother’s reassuring hand on his back, his father’s words of comfort that he would most definitely be accepted when he applied. 
Now that he had made it, he had to prove he belonged, but it could have been worse. His friends at Harvard and the University of Toronto had told him so. He was getting the best of both worlds, a prestigious school and, hopefully, not as much pressure as the rest of them. 
Without loitering any longer, he made his way inside and looked around to find the right lecture hall. It couldn’t possibly be that hard, could it?
After his first semester James had realized he’d made a few mistakes. One was living in a French speaking part of town without knowing a lick of the language, but that one was the easiest to deal with. The others were more in the realm of the amount of sleep he was getting and underestimating how much content the professors could shove down their throats in 14 weeks. 
He was more than happy to return to New Jersey for the holiday break to rest and recuperate before going back to the winter wonderland hell that was Montreal, but this time he was confident he would be more prepared. 
And for the most part, he was. He got enough sleep, partied responsibly (except Fridays, he partied hard then), always submitted his work on time and maintained his good GPA, making up for his poor fall semester. What he didn’t expect, however, was a distraction. 
When you walked into the room James watched you curiously, he thought maybe he’d seen you somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite place it. Besides, you were much more interesting than watching his sample boil for another five minutes. 
You came and took a seat next to him, taking out your safety goggles and lab notebook from your bag before shoving it under the table. 
“You’re sample’s boiling over,” you said, but James didn’t register you were talking to him at first, still looking at you in a slightly dazed manner before you physically pointed to the beaker, making his eyes go wide as he frantically turned down the heat and removed it. 
“It’s a wonder you passed the lab safely quiz,” you teased and James blushed. 
“Good thing I don’t want to be a chemist.” 
“Oh, and what do you want to be then?” you asked, preparing your own sample for boiling. 
“A doctor,” he shared with a little more confidence. 
“Any specialty in mind or just a doctor,” you said, doing air quotes over the word. 
“I’ve been shadowing some of the researchers in the Life Sciences Research Complex and I think oncology might be a good fit for me.” 
“Yeah, as long as you don’t have to boil cancer cells you should be fine,” you assured him. 
“What about you?” he rolled on the balls of his feet as he continued his experiment. “Or are you all talk?” 
“Pfft, you think I’d be here if I was all talk?” you asked. “No, I want to be a medical researcher.” 
“Maybe you should do some shadowing in the LSRC then.” 
“No thanks, I think I’ll stick to my job there.” 
“Your job?” James looked at your wish surprise. “Aren’t you like 18?” 
“Almost,” you smiled. 
“How did you manage to get a job there? They barely let undergraduates in the labs, let alone be responsible for anything.” 
“It’s nothing fancy,” you assured him. “I just do cataloguing for now, but it's a good experience.” 
“Still,” he raised his brows, “you must be like a prodigy or something.” 
“Again, no,” you shook your head. “Just someone who goes after what she wants.” 
There was a comfortable pause where you both took down your distillation set ups and began working on the filtration portion of the experiment. 
“So what’s your name, anyways?” you asked, looking over at him. “Hey, look, clamp it this way,” you demonstrated and he followed your lead, seeing how much more stable the glassware was afterwards. 
“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’m James.” 
You told him your name and continued your work again in silence.
Chemistry labs quickly became the favourite part of James’ week. 
Ever since that lab, James began to see you in all his classes. On more than a few occasions, he’d had to steal notes from his friends on account of forgetting to pay attention. It became an easy thing to tease him about, so his friends began calling him heart-eyes, because who was he kidding, he had a crush. 
“Get your head out of your ass, heart-eyes, I am not giving you my notes again,” his friend, Carlo, shoved his arm and whispered harshly as he could see him getting distracted. 
“Sorry,” James shook his head and began scribbling down what he had missed, his eyes darting back and forth from the board and back to you. 
“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Pierre asked him after class. “Don’t you talk all the time in the lab?” 
“More like I stare at her and she says stuff to make it not awkward,” he cringed at his own actions. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time I’m with her I can’t string together a sentence, and– Jesus Christ you should have seen my face last week! Full on red, like I can’t even be subtle about it!” 
“Yikes,” Jian grimaced. 
“It’s bad, I know,” James assured. 
“And this is why we call you heart-eyes,” Carlo patted James on the back. 
“Yeah, say it a little louder, maybe she’ll hear you,” James said sarcastically. 
“Who’ll hear you?” the group of boys heard a voice behind them and all their eyes went wide as they spun around and saw you. 
“No one!” Jian was quick to answer in the least nonchalant way possible, making the rest of the group, especially James, stare daggers at him. 
“It’s not no one,” Carlo attempted to save face. “Just… this girl back in uh New Jersey that James’ got the hots for,” he gained confidence with every word of the sentence before adorning a smug smile on his face and patting James yet again on the back. 
“You’re afraid a girl in New Jersey will hear you?” you looked curiously at James but he just stared blankly at you. “So you call him heart-eyes?” you instead turned your attention to his friends and they nodded. “That’s cute, maybe I’ll call you that too.” 
“Sure,” was all a red faced James could get out before you excused yourself to head over to work. 
Pierre was trying very hard to keep a straight face while you walked away and James slapped both Carlo and Jian upside the head. 
“What the hell was that! Could you not have been more obvious, Jian? And Carlo, a girl back in New Jersey? Now she thinks I’m pining for someone else!” 
“On the plus side, maybe she’ll think all your blushing around her is a circulation issue,” Pierre shrugged. 
“You guys are the worst,” James shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, continuing to walk along the path to one of the libraries. 
“No, we just saved your ass,” Carlo caught up with him. “However terribly, but if we didn’t say anything you would have stared at her with your mouth open like a trout.” 
“Carlo does have a point,” Jian agreed, “At least we bought you a little time to get your act together.” 
James sighed, “You guys have too much faith in me.”
“You said that when I started to teach you French and you’ve come a long way with that,” Pierre said. 
“Yeah, sure I went from saying nothing to being able to say Je m'appelle James et je ne parle pas français.” 
“And what a handy sentence that is when you don’t speak French!” Pierre grinned and James couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. 
“Okay, I’ll try and get my act together and ask her out…and learn more French.” 
“That’s the spirit!” Carlo patted his back. “Now let’s go get a drink and relax.” 
“Maybe after we study for our physics midterm?” James nudged his friend and Jian nodded his head in agreement. 
“Fine, I guess if we have to,” Carlo sighed. 
“Not everyone is naturally good at kinematics, Carlo. Take pity on us mere mortals who have to study,” Pierre responded, eliciting a chuckle from his buddies. 
James was quiet as he thought to himself. If he could get a B on this physics test, maybe there was hope for him getting his act together after all.
Summer break rolled around faster than James had expected. While Jian went back to Richmond, Pierre over to Quebec City, and Carlo to Chicago, James was left alone in Montreal, working to help pay his tuition for the next year. Being an international student was no joke. 
He would have gone back to New Jersey, but the positions he applied to in Montreal paid more so it wasn’t a hard decision to make. 
His parents would come visit him for some time in July, but for the most part he was alone. 
On late nights, he’d make his way to the McDonald’s in the neighbourhood, not knowing enough French to go anywhere else nearby. At least there, most of them spoke enough English to take his order, and if not it was really easy to point to the menu. 
“It’s already done?” he asked. 
“Give us some credit, hein. We knew you were coming, we had it ready.” 
James chuckled and handed him the money for the order, exchanging it for the bag which he took to a table and sat down. 
As he was pulling out his fries from his bag he heard the chime of the door and looked up curiously to see who was coming at this time of night. 
He stopped what he was doing when he recognized you, watching as you dug through your purse and spoke to the cashier in French. You both laughed about something James couldn’t quite catch and a little while later, after you had paid they handed you a bag and an ice cream cone when James heard you say something about ‘deux cuillères’ taking the utensils they gave you and turing straight towards James’ table, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. 
“I thought you lived in New Jersey,” you said. 
James was still stunned that you had noticed him and couldn’t find the words to speak. 
“Hey, heart-eyes?” you waved your hand in front of his face. “You okay?” 
“Y-Yeah,” he nodded, distracting himself by pulling out his burger from his bag. 
“So why aren’t you in Jersey?” you asked. 
“Work. I got a job here, it paid better.” 
“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully while eating some of your fries. “And all your friends?” 
“Back with their families, unfortunately for me,” he nodded. “W-What about you?” 
“Oh, I live here,” you shrugged. “In this neighbourhood actually.” 
“You live here?” he asked. 
“That’s what I said,” you nodded. 
“And so that’s how you know French?” 
“Every kid in Quebec learns French, it’s kind of a non-negotiable,” you shared. “I gather that’s why you’re eating here.” 
“Yeah, Pierre didn’t manage to teach me enough before he left,” he sighed and started to eat his meal. 
“I could teach you if you want. I’m taking a little break this summer so I have some spare time,” you offered. 
“Oh, I don’t want to-,” 
“James, you’re gonna have a shitty summer if you don’t say yes.”
He couldn’t argue with that, it would be nice to communicate more with the people who lived around him. 
“Okay, sure, but I’m warning you, I’m a terrible student.” 
“I used to tutor one of my siblings, trust me it can’t be worse than that,” you laughed. 
You chatted a little more, finishing your meals but not before you handed James a spoon. 
“So this is cuillère then?” he asked. “I-I overheard you talking to Jean.” 
“Yeah, your pronunciation isn’t bad either,” you nodded. “Here.” 
You pushed the ice cream cone between you and began to eat it with the spoon. James had a bit of a sweet tooth and wouldn’t be one to refuse dessert so he began to share the ice cream cone with you. 
“So, are you missing your girl in New Jersey?” you asked and James cursed internally, trying to come up with a lie to tell you. 
“Um, no not really,” he shook his head. “I don’t think we would have worked out anyways.” 
“Oh, so are your friends still calling you heart-eyes?” 
He nodded his head, thinking it was better not to say anything in case he gave himself away. 
“It’s good that you recognized you wouldn’t work out before you asked her out,” you said, “Couple guys wanted to go on dates with me this year, but just didn’t seem like the right fit. Plus, I don’t really think I’m looking for anything like that right now.”
James nodded his head again, silently eating the ice cream. 
“Ever been in love, James?” you asked. 
“That’s a really loaded question to ask someone you cornered in a McDonald’s at 11 P.M.” 
You ignored his response and continued, 
“I haven’t, it seems like such a big thing, how would you even know if it was love?” 
James looked up at the ceiling, silently asking God to not let him say something stupid, 
“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first.” 
“So you have been in love,” you confirmed and he shrugged his shoulders. 
“I…I don’t know. Maybe I have.” 
“That’s not a very straightforward answer.” 
“Then maybe I haven’t. I feel like if it was love, you’d figure it out, eventually.” 
You pursed your lips and nodded your head. 
“I hope I get to fall in love,” you smiled softly to yourself. “Seems nice.” 
“Yeah,” James agreed. “It does.” 
A few years later… 
“So how did it go?” Jian asked, as they sat around James’ small living room. 
“It…could have been better,” James sucked in some air through his teeth, recalling a recent memory from earlier that afternoon. 
“What the fuck James! You scared the shit out of me! I could have broken the hemocytometer, do you know how much that shit costs?!” 
“Sorry!” James quickly apologized and dropped his books down on the nearest surface to help you clean up, making you look up again at him with disdain. 
“In the BSC? Really? Now we have to resterilize and all the specimens I have in there are as good as compromised.” 
“Shit,” James muttered under his breath, he was usually so much better in the lab, but the second he was with you he became a bumbling mess. “I-I’ll take care of the BSC, I’m so sorry.” 
You sighed and removed your gloves, pinching the bridge of your nose. 
“It’s not just boiling water we’re dealing with anymore, James,” you said a little more calmly than before. “You’ve gotta be more careful, okay? I’m not losing my job over this.” 
James nodded his head and went to grab the things to sterilize the biological safety cabinet and grab the new specimen from the fridge. So much for trying to get a job at LSRC to impress you. 
“I was not built to be a researcher,” James shook his head. 
“I mean, it’s not that big of a screw up, you fixed it eventually, didn’t you?” Pierre asked.
“Yeah, but not until after a thorough amount of embarrassment.” 
“I thought girls found clumsy guys endearing,” Carlo commented. 
“Not when the girl is determined to become the leading medical researcher on the continent,” James sighed. “Maybe taking this job was a bad idea. From what I can see she hasn’t even changed her opinion on dating, she hasn’t been with anyone these past three years.” 
“Do you hear that?” Carlo removed his feet from the coffee table and placed them on the ground. “You’ve been in love with her for three years and haven’t done anything about it.” 
“Who said I was in love with her? And sure, maybe I haven’t made a move, but I learnt French!” James tried to defend himself, pointing to Pierre. 
“That’s not as good of a comeback as you think it is,” Pierre shook his head. 
“I know,” James hung his head low and sat on the couch between Pierre and Jian. “We’re gonna graduate in a year and she’s not gonna know I’m in love with her.” 
“So you are in love with her?” Jian looked over at his friend sympathetically. 
James leaned back and used the heels of his palms to cover his eyes. 
“He’s gonna have a meltdown, don’t ask him that,” Pierre shook his head. 
“God, I do love her!” he exclaimed like he was just finding it out for the first time himself. 
“What did I say,” Pierre sighed. 
“Can I make it stop?” James looked over at his friends who all shrugged. “I am so screwed.” 
“This time, I think we agree with you,” Carlo took a sip of his drink. “Good luck, man.” 
James squeezed his eyes shut, he would definitely need it. 
The year passed to graduation and James was still sitting on his feelings. It was much too late now to say anything. You’d already been accepted to a graduate program through your work with the LSRC and James had passed his MCAT with flying colours and was on his way to medical school at Columbia. 
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was going to miss Montreal, the city had grown on him during his time there and a part of him wished he could stay. 
His friends were also ready for the next stages in their studies, all going to different places across the continent to get their other degrees, with, of course, the promise to stay in touch. 
James didn’t know what the next little bit of his life had in store for him, but he hoped regardless of where he ended up, maybe he’d be able to make up for his missed opportunities. 
The years of medical school, once started, passed faster than James expected them to, and by the end of it, much to his own surprise, he’d also gotten married. 
You were almost all but forgotten in the back of his mind, but time continued to play its games. 
Medical school turned into a specialization in oncology, and a divorce. Then residency and a marriage. Then a second divorce. Then another marriage and more recently a position at a hospital in his hometown, on the board and a well respected oncologist and a few new friends…and a third divorce. 
“House, I’m not asking you to let them all sleep in your apartment, it’s just a dinner for one night, we’ll be out and about for the rest of the time that they’re here,” James sighed. 
“Can’t you just cancel?” House asked. “Divorce seems like a pretty good reason to get out of a reunion.” 
“See, the thing is, I’d rather not be miserable and see my friends instead, and they bought their tickets months ago. Please, House, I’ll do the dishes for a week.” 
“A month,” House said. 
“Two weeks,” James negotiated and House nodded, so they shook on it. 
“Good, now that I’ve done you a favour, you can do me one,” House smiled, but the kind of smile that was conniving, like he had something up his sleeve all along. 
“I paid you in chores for my favour, who says I owe you anything?” 
“Unless you want me to call your friends and cancel for you, you’ll do it,” House continued to walk the hospital’s hallways hobbling with his cane. 
“What is it?” James sighed, catching up with him. 
“We have a patient and he doesn’t speak very good English, but he does speak French. You went to McGill didn’t you? Must have picked up some of the love language.” 
“Unfortunately for me in this case, I did,” he nodded. 
“Perfect, come with me now,” House motioned with his head to the patient’s room and James trailed behind him. 
When he entered the room, House motioned for him to begin speaking. James hadn’t spoken a lot of French since his undergrad so he was definitely rusty, but he supposed it was better than nothing and began to explain that he would be helping with the translation.
“Erm, Bonjour, je suis Dr. Wilson, je vais aider Dr. House avec la traduction.” 
The man looked at James strangely before saying. 
“You’re an anglophone, but you speak French like you’re Quebecois.” 
“I um did my undergraduate in Montreal, I learnt how to speak there,” James responded back in French. 
“Hmm.” 
James could tell this wasn’t going to be fun. Some of the French held quite a bit of hate towards Quebec, who knew why, but his accent definitely wasn’t going to help him in this situation. 
House got James to ask some routine medical history questions and a few things about his symptoms all the while James had to filter out all the insults that were coming his way with regards to his “poor use of language” and “unintelligible accent”. 
When he could finally leave the room, James let out a string of French curses under his breath, still thinking in the other language. 
“House, why can’t you just get a proper translator?” he asked. “I’m terrible at this.” 
“Cuddy said something about making a big purchase recently and being currently unable to do so, especially since you put that you speak French in your resume. Bet you’re regretting that one now.” 
“Yeah,” James nodded his head. “Big time.” 
They began to walk towards the elevator to go to the cafeteria for lunch, when James decided to inquire more about Cuddy’s big purchase. 
“Oh, she said something about money this, medical research that,” House shook his head, “You know I stopped listening the second she wouldn’t give me what I wanted.” 
“She hired a medical researcher,” James said aloud, chewing on the words, “I wonder who she-,” 
His train of thought was cut off when he saw, near the elevator, a face he hadn’t seen since graduation day at McGill. 
Quickly, unable to think of anything else to do, he ran into the administrative area and hid crouched down behind a photocopier. 
House watched his friend curiously before walking over towards him and leaning against the copier asked him if he’d gone insane. 
“No, I just, um, remembered I needed to copy some patient files,” he lied. 
“You don’t have any with you,” House said. 
“I faxed them from my office,” he lied again. 
“I think I need to go get Foreman, clearly you’re having a neurological breakdown,” House said. 
“Can you just stop making it obvious I’m here?!” James exclaimed in a whisper. 
Unfortunately for him, as you were walking past, his harsh whisper made his location obvious, causing you to look down and see his familiar face. 
“Oh my God, heart-eyes, is that you?” you asked with a smile and James pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded. “What are you doing down there?” 
James became speechless and suddenly he was an eighteen-year-old back in his chemistry lab. 
“He’s checking to see if we need more toner,” House said, lying for his friend, but James knew that was all he would get out of him. “Well, that’s my cue to leave, you guys have fun.” 
You reached down and offered James a hand, helping him back into a standing position. 
“I haven’t seen you in so long,” you commented. “Like since we were-,” 
“22,” James filled in and you nodded. 
“Yeah,” you bit your lip before asking him how he had been. 
“Oh, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I-I’m assuming you’re the medical researcher Cuddy hired?” 
“That would be correct,” you smiled. 
“Why did you choose to work here? I thought you were some big hotshot in Canada?” 
“I am a big hotshot, which is why I wanted to come to a teaching hospital. I thought maybe it would give more opportunities to teach other people what I know. It’s a win-win. I get to do what I want to and the hospital gets grant money from my research,” you explained. “It looks like you got where you wanted to be too, Mr. Oncologist.” 
“Actually it’s Dr. Oncologist,” he joked and you laughed, making his cheeks go red after hearing the sound.
“I missed having you around, James. We should catch up sometime,” you suggested. 
“Yeah sure,” he nodded. “I-I’d love that.” 
You excused yourself, needing to go introduce yourself to a class of medical students, waving goodbye to James, leaving him stuck in his tracks for a few moments before he could gather his senses again and head downstairs for lunch. 
“We could have rescheduled if this was too much, man,” Carlo watched James as he brought a large roast to the table for them to eat. 
“See? What did I tell you,” House rolled his eyes and James gave him a disapproving stare. 
“No, I wanted you guys to come, we’ve been planning this for months. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of it,” he assured his friends. “Plus, we know how hard it is to nail down Pierre, I swear you are always travelling. Every time we talk you’re in a different country.” 
“That’s the life of a parasitologist,” he shrugged and helped James by beginning to cut the roast. 
“And Jian, how’s the wife and kids?” 
“They’re good,” Jian smiled. “Mei started first grade in September. Becky and I are both up for promotions at the hospital, so I can’t really complain. Although I think Carlo can.” 
“Seriously it’s not that big of a deal,” Carlo groaned, “Sure yeah, pharmaceuticals are more flashy than biophysics, but that doesn’t mean that my research wasn’t better.” 
“Well if it was better why did William get the award?” James asked and Carlo just flipped him the bird. 
“Didn’t we go to school with him?” Pierre asked. 
“We did?” James raised a brow. 
“Yeah, for a year, from Toronto, huge stoner. Hated being there and did literally no work, but still managed to get honours,” Jian explained. 
“Sounds like my kinda guy,” House commented and James rolled his eyes. 
Just as they continued to dish out dinner, House’s pager went off and he sighed, excusing himself from the table while practically threatening James to leave him some food. 
When House left, James’ friends saw their opening and began their personal line of questioning. 
“Hey, James, are you really okay?” Jian asked. 
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” James asked in return. 
“You’re getting a divorce,” Pierre said. “Seems like a pretty good reason to not be okay.” 
James shook his head, 
“Yeah sure, it’s a shitty situation,” he admitted. “Did I imagine myself at this point in my life with three failed marriages? No, definitely not. Can I do anything to change it? Also no, and right now I really wouldn’t want to change it.” 
“Can we ask what happened?” Carlo queried. 
“She cheated on me, then left me,” James said simply. 
“Forgive me,” Pierre said. “But you seemed a lot more upset when we talked over the phone last week. What changed?” 
James looked down at his plate and cut into his roast, thinking about what Pierre had said. It was true, even earlier today he was sulking about, that was until he ran into you. 
“I swear,” James started, “if you guys make a big deal about this I will murder you all,” he used his knife to point at all of them and they nodded, swearing their silence. “I’ve got heart-eyes again.” 
“You met someone new?” Jian asked and Carlo shook his head. 
“No, he re-met someone old. Tell me, did your hospital recently hire a medical researcher?” 
James nodded his head and the table was about to erupt into a loud chorus of comments when James gave them a look and they all restrained themselves. 
“James, I’m being dead serious when I say this, but you should have married her,” Pierre insisted. “I never saw you look at anyone else the way you looked at her.” 
“Probably explains the three divorces then, doesn’t it? I was still in love with her the whole time,” James sighed. “It’s going to come up eventually, seems like a pretty big indicator that I’m not good at relationships.” 
“Who knows, maybe she won’t care,” Jian offered. 
“What was it like when you saw her again?” Carlo asked, looking for any opportunity to tease his friend. 
“How do you think it was? I could barely talk, I was a nervous wreck, and blushing like crazy,” he shook his head at the thought of it. “I could literally feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I feel like a middle school girl every time I’m near her.”
“Who knows, maybe she still thinks you have circulation issues,” Jian shrugged and the table laughed. 
“What I would give to stay here and watch this play out,” Carlo sighed and leaned back in his seat. 
“Knowing James, you’d have to be here for ten years before he made a move on her,” Pierre raised a brow and James threw a piece of potato at him. 
“If you ever do get the guts to ask her out, call us. We’ve made bets on this,” Carlo added. 
“Real comforting, guys,” James ate a bite of the roast. “I thought this was supposed to be my pity party.” 
“Not anymore,” Jian shook his head. “You’ve got heart-eyes.” 
This time around, James thought maybe he didn’t mind the nickname as much as he used to. 
“I would think they’d get you your own office at this point,” James commented as he entered his office, seeing you sitting at his desk, eating a pre-packed lunch. 
“Beats me,” you shrugged and continued to eat. 
“So you’ve decided that invading my office is your next best bet?” 
“Oh hush,” you waved him off with your fork. 
“Well, excuse me for wanting to come to a safe place after being verbally assaulted by House’s patient,” he sat on the opposite side of the desk and leaned back in the chair. 
“Verbally assaulted?” you asked. “By a patient who isn’t even your own?” 
“He doesn’t like the way I speak French,” James rolled his eyes. “I’m translating while they’re treating him since the department used all its money hiring you.” 
“What can I say, hotshots cost a lot of money.” 
“You know, you could do the translation, probably much better than I can,” he noted. 
“I could, but you probably need the practice more than I do, chèri,” you scrunched your nose in a cute mocking way and James could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks yet again. “You still keeping up with that posse of yours?” you asked, changing the subject. 
“Yeah, they all flew in to visit a few days ago, we’re gonna go out tonight,” he said. “Do you…maybe want to join us?” he suggested. 
“I don’t have plans, as long as they’re okay with it I’d love to come,” you smiled. 
“Oh trust me, they will definitely be okay with it.” 
Later that night, James was drinking deeply from his glass while he watched his friends stare blankly ahead at you. If he looked anything like they did all those times his words were caught in his throat, then he hoped to spontaneously combust right then and there. 
“Heart-eyes, I thought you said they were okay with me coming?” you leaned over and whispered to him. 
James put down his glass and nodded his head. 
“They are okay with it, right?” 
Snapping out of their daze, the three men nodded their heads and finally began professing assurances that everything was fine. 
“It’s just… you said James invited you?” Jian asked with furrowed bows. 
“Yeah,” you nodded. “He mentioned you guys were in town and getting together tonight and asked me if I wanted to join.” 
James bit down on his tongue trying not to say anything, but also gave his friends a look to shut up before they gave anything away. He knew what was running through their minds, they were wondering how the hell he’d gotten the guts to ask you to come, but there was one fundamental difference between tonight and any other time he could have possibly asked you. This wasn’t a date, therefore, there was no pressure. 
“Maybe you could tell them what you’ve been up to since they last saw you?” James suggested. 
“Oh, um, well, I got my master’s degree and doctorate at McGill, both for research in cancer biology-,” 
“Cancer biology?” Pierre interrupted. “I don’t remember you mentioning you were interested in that.” 
“I-I wasn’t initially,” you admitted. “Just after spending more time in the LSRC and a few other irrelevant things I decided it was the best fit for me to focus on.” 
“You and heart-eyes make a pretty good pair then,” Carlo raised his eyebrows suggestively and took a sip of his drink. 
“I guess we do,” you chuckled. “As long as he leaves the research to me. We all know what he’s like in the lab.” 
“I resent that,” James protested only before saying, “but I do deserve it.” 
“It’s a miracle he hasn’t had a medical malpractice suit,” Pierre added. 
You asked the boys about where their various careers had taken them and how they were each doing. The conversation stayed pretty normal until the topic changed to relationships, starting with Jian’s wife and family back in Vancouver and Pierre’s husband who was currently in Australia doing research on some massive insect. 
“What about you Carlo?” you asked. “Anyone special in your life?” 
“Nah,” he waved his hand. 
“What about the mom of the kid who pet sits for you?” Jian asked. 
“That kid charges me per animal, per size. If I were to date his mom he’d probably charge me for dating her too, and I don’t think I can afford his price,” he shook his head and the table laughed. 
“James, you’ve been quiet,” you said. “Nothing to share?” 
James nervously took a sip of his drink and looked over at his friends for help. 
“James hasn’t had the best luck in love,” Pierre settled on. 
“Oh, haven’t found anybody, that’s not a big deal,” you assured him. “I haven’t either.” 
“Well,” Carlo said in a high-pitched voice. “It’s not exactly that he hasn’t found anybody.” 
“So there’s someone-?” 
“I’m divorced,” James blurted. “Three times. Or soon to be three anyway.” 
“Oh,” you paused and tried to think of the right thing to say, but for the moment settled on nothing while Pierre changed the subject. 
After the visit was over, James offered to walk you to your car and you accepted. The walk started off in silence, but you decided to break it. 
“You know, I hope you find the right person eventually,” you said. “It’s unfortunate things didn’t work out three times.” 
“Yeah,” James nodded in agreement. “I-um, do you ever think about that conversation we had, in the McDonald’s by my apartment?” 
“Sometimes I do,” you admitted. 
“Looking back on that, I wonder if we ever really loved each other. If we did this probably wouldn’t have happened. We would have fixed things, worked on ourselves instead of just…giving up.” 
“So I guess you still haven’t fallen in love yet?” you asked, but he stayed silent. “Whoever it is, I’m sure things will find a way to work out for you.”
“The moment may have passed on that,” he said with his hands shoved in his pockets and looking down at the ground. 
“You never know, James. Sometimes life has a funny way of surprising you.” 
James watched as his colleagues and a few of the students from the university left the lecture hall while he continued to sit in his seat, watching you walk up towards him. 
“Don’t you have patients or something?” you asked. “You’re at all of my lectures.” 
“Doesn’t it seem appropriate for an oncologist to attend a cancer biology lecture?” he asked as you sat down next to him. 
“I suppose so,” you sighed. “Doesn’t explain why you weren’t taking notes though.” 
James looked down at his empty hands and cursed a little internally. 
“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I don’t mind the staring, it reminds me of school.” 
“You noticed?” he asked. 
“You weren’t very subtle,” you chuckled. 
“Yeah, not one of my strong suits,” he blushed, embarrassed. 
“Do you wanna go grab lunch before your break is over?” you asked and James nodded, standing up and offering you a hand to get out of your seat. 
You went to the cafeteria, running into his friend House who managed to get his food paid for by James, yet again, before leaving to go back up to his office and work on another differential diagnosis with his employees. 
“Did all the guys get back home safe after their trip?” you asked, digging into your food. 
“Carlo and Jian are back home, Pierre went to go be with Ollie in Australia.”
“It must be hard not living near them.” 
James sighed and nodded his head. “It’s a balance. When they’re being annoying, it’s great that they don’t live here and when they’re not, it sucks.” 
“Spoken like a true friend,” you chuckled. 
“What about you? Do you still keep in touch with people from school? During any of your degrees?” 
“Not really,” you shook your head. “After my undergrad I became so laser focused on my school I didn’t pay attention to relationships that much outside of my family. Starting to regret it a bit now.” 
“Kind of hard to have a good conversation with cancer cells,” James said sarcastically and you shook your head. “Do you like it in New Jersey so far?” 
“Not as much as back home,” you admitted, “but it is nice to have a friend here.”
“Yeah, Jersey is…an acquired taste,” he settled on, making you laugh, but your laughter was cut off by the sound of his pager, and he looked down to see what the message was before quickly standing up. “Sorry, I have to-,” 
“Don’t worry,” you assured him. “I’ll pack up your food and bring it to your office.” 
“Thanks,” he nodded and you waved goodbye as he ran off out of the cafeteria and to the oncology floor to go help one of his patients. 
James didn’t find himself walking around the campus often, but when he did it was usually because he had to clear his head. With everything that was going on in his life, in addition to the circumstances of this case, he was taking it harder than normal. 
He had left his coat in his office as the hot New Jersey sun was already beating down, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes following his feet as he took his steps forward. 
He didn’t notice you sitting on a bench as he was passing by. Curious as to his state, you stood up and went to meet up with him. 
“Hey James, are you okay?” 
Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts almost instantly. He stopped to look up at you, seeing the concern reflecting in your eyes. 
He took his hands out of his pockets and motioned for you to walk with him. 
“I lost a patient today,” he explained. “He was 11.” 
“Oh, James, I’m so sorry,” you said softly. 
“In med school you learn pretty quickly if you don’t find a way to deal with what you face every day the result is never good,” he said and you noticed him chewing on the inside of his cheek, “but it was just too sunny outside. How could it be sunny on a day like this?” 
You didn’t say anything initially, only intertwining your hand with his and giving it a light squeeze which he returned. 
“You know, I think it’s probably okay, every once in a while, to let yourself mourn your patients. Just like everyone else. You have a uniquely difficult job, James, and no one would hold it against you if you need a minute to adjust.” 
James stopped walking and you followed his lead, only to have him let go of your hand and pull you into a tight hug. You easily wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms were around your waist. 
“You’re a good doctor, James,” you mumbled. “I know, even if you don’t quite believe it right now, you did everything you could to help that young boy and make him more comfortable.” 
You could feel him nod his head, clearly not trusting himself to say anything at the moment. 
Neither of you wanted to let go, but you knew that you both had work to get back to. James had other patients he was responsible for and you had some work to do in one of the hospital labs. 
So silently, hand in hand, you accompanied each other back to the hospital, grateful for each other’s company. 
“I swear, if I stay there any longer I’m going to go mad,” James whispered to you under his breath as you walked along the halls of the hospital with him to help him run some tests for a few patients. 
“What was it this time?” you asked, huddling in closer, waiting for him to spill the beans on why living with his best friend was becoming unbearable. 
“He keeps pranking me,” he began to explain and you could see how frustrated he was just by his hand movements. “Last night he thought of the genius idea to put my hand in warm water while I was sleeping and-,” James stopped himself, realizing he’d divulged too much, just as your eyes went wide. 
“Oh my God you didn’t wet the bed did you?” you asked in a chuckle and James quickly covered your mouth saying, 
“Shh! The whole hospital doesn’t need to hear you!” 
You couldn’t hold in your laugh, muffled by James’ hand over your mouth and his cheeks were a bright cherry red. 
Eventually you pulled his hand away and said, 
“You definitely need to get out of there. That’s criminal.” 
“Exactly what I’m saying,” James agreed. 
“Hey, why don’t you come over to my place tonight?” you suggested. “We can watch a movie or something together.” 
“That sounds like exactly what I need right now,” he nodded his head. “What time?” 
“Come over at eight, it’ll give me some time to get snacks and get ready.” 
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he held out his hand and you took it shaking it firmly. 
Later that evening while James was getting ready, House watched him curiously. 
“I still don’t believe that you blowdry your hair,” he said loudly over the sound of the appliance. 
“Believe it or not, I do,” James responded. 
“It just seems so pointless, your hair is messy anyways,” he crossed his arms and James gave him a look. 
“My hair looks fine, yours on the other hand could use a trim and about a billion other things,” James retorted.
“So, is this a date?” House asked, changing the topic. 
“No, it’s not a date,” James shook his head. “It’s an opportunity for me to get away from your insanity.” 
“Are you sure it’s not a date?” he asked. 
“What makes you think it's a date?” he finally gave in and turned around to face his friend, turning off the blow dryer. 
“Well if you asked her if you could come over, probably not a date, but if she offered…” he shrugged his shoulders. 
James shook his head, he didn’t want to allow himself to believe it was true, because if it was, he’d probably overthink things and make a fool of himself. 
“It’s not a date,” he reiterated and House stopped pressing, seeing as his friend would not be reasoned with. 
James finished fixing his hair and grabbed his keys and a coat before stepping out of the door. 
It didn’t take him long to drive to your house and when he knocked at the door he heard shuffling inside before the lock clicked and you opened it. 
“Hey! You got the dress code memo,” you joked, pointing to his McGill sweater and then back at yours. 
“I thought you might like a blast from the past,” he smiled and you invited him inside. 
As he entered he noticed the array of pillows on the couch, blankets draped over arm chairs, and books piled on every surface possible. To top it off, the house was currently only lit by lamps allowing a warm orange hue to fall over the space. It made James’ shoulders relax and he could even feel his nervous heart rate slow. 
“Do you like it?” you asked. “I am by no means an interior decorator, but I tried to make it feel cozy so it’s nice to come back to after long days at work.” 
“I do like it,” James nodded. “A lot. It feels like a home.” 
“Perfect, that’s exactly what I was going for,” you smiled. “You’re the first guest I’ve had here, you know?” 
“Really? No fancy dinner parties with the hospital board?” 
“No, not yet,” you chuckled. “Unfortunately, this guy in the oncology department keeps taking up all my time.”
You grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the couch. 
“But don’t worry, I don’t mind.” 
After he took off his coat, you both sat down next to each other, James extending his hand along the back of the couch and you naturally sat right up next to him, leaning forward to grab the remote and turn on the movie. 
“What did you pick?” James asked. 
“Just some random horror movie,” you said. “I heard it’s really cheesy.” 
“We’ll see about that,” James raised his brows and grabbed the popcorn from the table, putting it in between you both. 
You pressed play once you were both settled and tossed the remote to the side of the couch, curling your legs up and waiting in anticipation for the movie to begin.
It didn’t take long for the horror plot to begin, jumping right into the satanic murders and supernatural deaths. Just as you had predicted, it was cheesy, but that didn’t stop you from being startled whenever something popped up unexpectedly on the screen. 
Both of you were lulled into a false sense of security during what seemed like a quiet part of the movie, then, all of a sudden, the killer jumped into the frame with a loud change in the soundtrack, causing you to shriek and move towards James, also feeling him jump slightly from being startled. 
You both looked up at each other and laughed at the ridiculousness of your collective fright. 
“You’re supposed to be the calm one,” you elbowed him. 
“I know it just-Jesus!” James found himself inadvertently closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around you as if it would give him some protection from what was on the screen. 
You laughed again and leaned closer into his side, patting his leg to assure him it was safe to open his eyes again. 
“You must enjoy torturing me, that’s the only explanation for this,” James looked over at you and you shook your head. 
“Come on, heart-eyes, you think that lowly of me?” 
James couldn’t stop the smile that creeped past his lips, “No, of course not.” 
“Good, that means I still have the upper hand,” you moved your head to look back at the TV, but not before James tickled you in retaliation for your words. 
It took a moment, but you eventually surrendered and moved your focus back to the movie, still feeling a little warm from your laughter. 
You grabbed some of the other candies and snacks from the table, holding a gummy bear up for James to try and he did without so much as a second thought. 
“Still have a sweet tooth I see,” you offered him a different candy which he ate again and nodded. 
“You don’t want to know how many cavities I’ve had.” 
“Here,” you handed him a wrapped treat. “This one’s special from home.” 
“Maple candies,” he smiled. “They don’t make ‘em like they do in Montreal.” 
“They were your favourite, right?” you asked. 
James looked over at you again curiously, “You remembered that?” 
“Of course I did,” you shrugged. “Oh wait, look,” you pointed to the TV before grimacing and covering your eyes, but still peeking through your fingers. “Ew!” 
James just smiled at you, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to kiss you, the thought bringing a warm sensation to his stomach. 
He settled instead on doing what he’d been doing forever: staring at you with heart-eyes. 
James tried to fight a yawn as he grabbed one of the many books on the shelves in his office, taking it to his couch and sitting down next to you. 
“You don’t have to do this, James,” you told him. “You probably have to be back tomorrow morning, you should go home and rest.” 
“No, no, it’s fine,” he insisted. “You look in here for that article I was telling you about and I’ll start proofreading.” 
There were many papers and files strewn around the couch, you couldn’t remember when you first came in, but James never seemed to mind when you worked in his office instead of your own. 
“Are you sure?” you asked. “I feel like I brought a tornado in here.” 
James looked up from your paper and nodded his head. 
“Now hush and let me read.” 
“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckled, opening the medical journal he had handed you, flipping through the contents until you found the article title he had mentioned. 
James had a pen in his hand, scribbling down annotations on the side, correcting a few typos and grammatical errors. 
For the most part, he was able to follow along, but at one point, the words became so incoherent he tapped you to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. 
“What does this say here?” he asked. “I-I don’t know if my eyes just stopped working, but what does stirring in sugar and eggs have to do with this trial treatment?” 
“Oh my God,” you grabbed the paper and looked at it closer. “I must have accidentally copied some of my mom’s cookie recipe on here before changing documents. What in the world is going on with me?” 
Maybe it was the exhaustion settling in or some other things James couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he felt himself letting out a chuckle that grew a little longer, and longer until it was a full blown laugh. 
It was an honest mistake, and arguably not that funny, but you’d be hard pressed to convince him of that in that moment, and instead, seeing the silliness of the situation, you joined in.
Eventually, when the laughter died down, you and James both leaning far back against the couch, he turned to you and apologized. 
“I’m sorry, I should probably read this when I have a bit more sanity.” 
“Don’t be,” you patted his leg. “I can always use a good laugh.” 
With your heads still turned to face each other, you suggested to pause the work and resume it another time, to which James agreed. 
You both continued to sit there in silence, looking over at each other and James caught a glimmer of something in your eyes and had to blink a few times to make sure it was still there. It was a soft look, a little dazed, like you were happily daydreaming about something far off. It took him a moment to realize it, since he had been the one giving that look, he’d never really had a chance to see it for himself. 
You had heart-eyes. 
And more importantly, you had them while you were looking at James. 
With a sudden boost of courage, fuelled by lowered inhibitions, he started by asking, 
“Have I ever told you why my friends call me heart-eyes?” 
You tilted your head a little, following his lead and sitting up straight. 
“Wasn’t it because of that girl you had a crush on that was from here?” 
James opened his mouth and then shut it, shaking his head. 
“There was never a girl from Jersey,” he admitted. 
“Why would they say it was a girl from Jersey if there was…” as you said the sentence you slowed down, the realization dawning on you. 
“All the staring makes a bit more sense now?” he asked. 
You blinked a few times, “I just thought you were really awkward,” you said. 
“I was, but if the staring didn’t give it away the blushing really should have done it,” he chuckled. 
“I thought you had a circulation issue!” you exclaimed and James burst out laughing, of course you did. “God, James, why didn’t you say anything?” 
James shook his head, “I could barely string out a coherent sentence when I was around you. Makes it a little hard to say anything.” 
“Makes me wish I had said something,” you said, feeling your own cheeks heat up at the admission. 
“Y-You would’ve said something?” 
Now it was James’ turn to be surprised. 
“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first. That’s what you said to me, but that eventually, if it was love, I’d know it.” 
You reached out and held James’ hands in your own. 
“I should have said something. I could have said something. We could have had so much more-,” 
“James,” you whispered, interrupting him and he stopped. “Shut up and kiss me.” 
James wasn’t going to waste another second, removing his hands from your to instead gently hold your face, bringing you closer to him so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since he was 18 years old. 
The dim light of his desk lamp, the papers crumpled beneath and around you, the way you moved closer and slid into his lap, his hands now on your hips and your fingers snaking through his hair, it all melted into one and if you let yourselves imagine, just a bit, the lamp became a light in the library; the papers became unfinished homework assignments and lab write-ups, and you hadn’t missed a second of the time you could have spent together. 
Your kisses soon turned slow and repetitive and neither of you wanted to pull away, living in the moment like it was your last. 
“When…did you realize…you loved me?” you asked between kisses, moving away from his mouth, instead letting your lips find their way across his jaw and up to his temple. 
“Our last year of school,” he paused your kisses so he could kiss you properly again. “Carlo said something and-,” he shook his head and sighed. “I realized I was going to leave without you ever knowing how I felt and even though eventually I thought maybe I’d stopped loving you and started to love other people…I just kept trying to fill that space that only you fit in.” 
“First year of my master’s for me,” you rested your forehead against his. “Suddenly you weren’t there anymore and I really wished that wasn’t the case.” 
He tilted his head up to meet you in another kiss that was far too easy to melt into. Neither of you had any complaints and you knew you’d never get tired looking into his heart-eyes.
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@cuntyvicodin
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hxney-lemcn · 4 months
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The Riddle of Love — Gotham! Edward Nygma x gn! reader
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summery: Edward's interest shifts to someone who indulges in his love of riddles.
tw: bullying (?), kristen kringle is a warning all her own in this fic, implied rejection (not really tho, Ed's just awkward).
a/n: I hope so much that I wrote all these characters correctly. I have riddler fever rn and really wanted to write for him, but I've always been scared that I'd write him too ooc. I think I did good tho.
wc: 3.1k
Master List
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“What is it that no one wants to have, but no one wants to lose either?” I asked. I already knew it was a lost cause. Edward Nygma was the smartest man I had ever met. Dorky? Yes. Nerdy? Absolutely. Smart? Incredibly. So trying to impress him at his own game wasn’t exactly the smartest move. Yet, the first time I gave him a riddle to solve (which he solved ridiculously fast), I don’t think I’d ever seen him so happy. So I continued to scour the internet in my free time to try and find obscure riddles. 
Although this riddle wasn’t that obscure. I was running out of riddles to find, and I sure as hell couldn’t make my own. 
“A lawsuit,” Eddie replied without missing a beat, still focusing on testing blood samples. 
I couldn’t stop the pout that formed on my face, “It’s not fair how smart you are.”
I didn’t see Ed’s lips twitch up, how the praise I didn’t think twice about saying impacted him more than he’d like to admit. It was quiet for a few minutes, and I looked back down to the papers I had brought with me. Sometimes, I found myself working in the forensic lab when I could. One of the perks of being a criminal data analyst. I could make my notes on paper, and then just copy them into the computer later. 
Since I was a data analyst, I was in the record archives often. I was acquainted with Kristen Kringle, which obviously led me to Edward Nygma. She would complain about him if I came in after he had left. At that point I didn’t know him, but I also found her complaints unfounded. I’d let her vent, but I’d also speak up for him, which made her glance away in what I assume was guilt. Then there were the unfortunate times that I’d walk in on his awkward flirting. I’d just tensely put away or take the files I needed for my research and leave them to it. 
But after enough times, I’d caught him in the middle of one of his riddles. An easy one, probably to dumb it down for Kringle so she’d be enticed to answer it in the first place. Yet he had caught the attention of the wrong person. Although that didn’t seem to put a damper on his mood. He only sent me a tight lipped smile with a little ‘ding ding ding!’. That’s how I was caught hook line and sinker. His mannerisms were oddly endearing to me, and that’s how our odd little friendship formed. 
I was brought out of my reverie as Eddie shuffled over to his microscope, “I am a nine lettered word and rhyme with perfection; I am another name for love. What am I?”
I blinked, not ready for a riddle, even though I always should be in the presence of him. I looked up from my work, and I noticed how Eddie was sweating, his cheeks flushing a bright red. I tapped the metal table anxiously, the word love had thrown me off my game and my brain felt empty of anything else. I mumbled words under my breath that rhyme with perfection. 
“Deception, reception, perception,” I mumbled, yet none of them fit the rest of the rhyme. The longer I took, the more anxious Eddie seemed to get. “Affection. Oh! The answer is affection!”
Ed cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses, “Y-yes, that is correct. G-good job.” My proud smile fell into a more awkward one, thinking over the implications. That riddle sounded like one he’d save for Kringle. Was he running out of riddles as well? The thought alone was preposterous. It was tense for a bit. And when I realized I had nothing left to do but input the current data I had on some wanna be gang leader. The sad part is I knew that the cops aren’t going to be the first ones who get them. 
Even though I needed to leave, it felt wrong for some reason. To leave the situation after Edward had seemed to admit something in his unique way of sharing. I didn’t want to assume his feelings, yet I knew he also wasn’t one to just state them willingly. Biting my lip anxiously, I decided to just do it. 
Walking over towards Ed’s hunched form, I leaned down to place a light kiss to his cheek, “I’ll see ya later Eddie.” Then I booked it out of the room, leaving behind a very flustered dork. 
It wasn’t much later in the day when Doctor Lee Thompson entered my office. It wasn’t much of an office. The dark walls made the space feel enclosed, and it barely fit my desk and the few cabinets it held. Yet I didn’t mind it since it was a space for myself. Lee, on the other hand, was another acquaintance whose office was nowhere near mine. She’d only come to my office for a few reasons, if it was work related (which was rare since our departments weren’t similar), or if it was personal. Sometimes she fessed that it seemed I needed some company, that it would do me no good to spend all this time alone in my office. Other times…it was on a more personal note, about Eddie and I’s relationship. 
She plopped a candy bar on my desk, a placating move that was all too familiar.
“You must’ve done a real number on Ed,” She smirked, sitting on my desk. Due to the tiny size of the room, and the nature of my job, I didn’t have a seat for guests. 
“What do you mean?” I asked. Deep down, I knew exactly what she meant. I knew Edward was an awkward man, and his experience with flirting was an ultimate zero. Yet it was hard to imagine that he was still affected by a small gesture of affection… Okay maybe the gesture wasn’t that small, for either of us, but still! 
Lee’s smirk widened, “I think you know exactly what. Poor little Ed kept stumbling over his words when I brought you up. Something must’ve happened.”
I unwrapped the candy bar as she spoke, wanting to avoid any thought of the earlier moment. Looking back it was so awkward and a terrible attempt at…what? Flirting? Was that my intention? I didn’t even know my own intentions! 
I took a bite from the candy bar, savoring the sweet flavor before having to explain the painfully awkward memory. When I managed to explain the event, Lee couldn’t stop herself from chuckling, causing me to finish my candy bar with a bitter look. 
“That sounds like something you’d both do,” She smiled.
“What’s that supposed to mean,” I huffed, trying to fight off the flush of embarrassment I felt. 
“Nothing,” She sighed wistfully. “But you two really take your time, huh?” 
“Shut up,” I scowled. 
“Okay, okay,” She threw her hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll stop teasing…for now. But seriously, I think you two would be cute together.”
I let out a childish groan, “I get it. Is there anything else you need?” 
“No,” She smiled as she stood up. “Just wanted to see what had Ed all wound up.”
I rolled my eyes, but my heart skipped a beat at the implication. As Lee saw herself out, my mind kept racing. What was Ed doing right now? What was he thinking about? Did he really care enough about my opinion, about my affection, that he was still affected by it? I stared at my computer screen, the cursor blinking mindlessly. Glancing at the time, I scowled as I realized I still had 30 minutes left to my shift. The idea of going home, having a relaxing dinner and then maybe treating myself to a warm bath. 
That was only the beginning. It seems that Eddie’s admiration had shifted from Kristin Kringle to me. It was flattering, to say the least. At least to me. Once I gained Ed’s attention, I seemed to have gained his colleagues attention as well. Typically, I didn’t work with the officers, I’d research criminals, then that data would be added to the files. So when I walked past James Gordon and Harvey Bullock, I never thought twice. But when Ed had waved at me, that cute tight lipped smile on his face as I waved back, a smile of my own adorning my face, it drew the attention of the two detectives. 
"Careful Ed,” Harvey mocked. “Don’t wanna scare them off.” Jim only glanced up briefly, not interested in the situation in the least. I watched as Ed’s smile twitched for a second, Harvey’s words seeming to get to him. I felt my smile slip, not liking how they treat him in the slightest.
“He…didn’t do anything wrong,” I shrugged, before waving goodbye, making my way to the record archives. Not only them, but even Kringle was looking at me more than just as a person to vent to. 
“I feel sorry for you,” She stated, adjusting her thick rimmed glasses. Her hazel eyes held their usual air of judgment as she placed some files back in their spots. 
“Why?” I asked, flipping through to find the person I needed. 
“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, raising one of her perfectly maintained eyebrows. “Edward’s got his eyes on another victim.” I frowned, anger bubbling within me at the way she always found new ways to insult him. 
“I wouldn’t describe it like that,” I managed to grit out. “I find the sentiment sweet.”
“Wait,” Kringle paused, turning to look at me with disbelief. “Do you…like him?”
I sighed, finding it hard to focus on the task at hand with this irritating conversation, “Would there be something wrong with that?”
“Isn’t it kind of weird how fast he switched?” She asked, a hint of jealousy in her tone. “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he loses interest in you.”
I slammed the cabinet shut in a bout of rage, leaving the room before I do something I may regret…or lose my job over. As I exited, my scowl worsened when I realized I didn’t even get what I needed. 
“Hello!” Edward’s excited voice greeted me as I entered the break room. When my gaze landed on him, I felt my expression soften, my shoulder’s relaxing. His brown eyes were so expressive, that silly smile on his face never failed to melt my heart. 
“Hey,” I muttered back. Looking over the options in the vending machine. Just get something to eat, and hopefully I’ll feel better. 
“Is…something the matter?” He asked, fidgeting with his glasses. I let out a long sigh as I sat across from him at one of the few tables. 
Taking a bite of my snack, I took some time to gather my thoughts and feelings, “Sometimes I just hate people.”
His eyebrows raised, nervously fidgeting with his tie, “Th-that’s…understandable.”
“Sorry,” I muttered, finally cooling down. “Someone was just saying some really mean things and it got to me.”
Edwards’ demeanor changed in an instant, a frown replacing his smile, and his eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of concern and anger, “Who?”
I blinked, “What?”
“Who insulted you?” He asked, fists clenched. This wasn’t what I was expecting. He would get annoyed, yeah, but he’d always just stew in it until he calmed down. And he was barely angry when I was around, which was something I was proud of. So seeing him react so harshly was unusual. It made me feel a bit appreciated, that he cared enough to get this angry over it, yet it was also unsettling.
“They…they were insulting you,” I clarified, rubbing my arm awkwardly. “And trust me, I was ready to do some things that would’ve gotten me fired.”
Ed blinked, calming down drastically at the revelation, “Oh.” 
“Yeah,” I shrugged. “I swear if she says one more damned thing about you I’m gonna…” I strangled the air, the only way I could express how frustrated her insults made me.
Edward fake coughed, his cheeks tinged a light pink, “I assume you mean Miss Kringle.”
I paused, hoping it didn’t hurt that his past interest was still as rude as ever. “I didn’t even manage to get the files I needed,” I grumbled, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.
“...I can get them for you,” I felt my heart crack. Was he still interested in her? Was that why he was so ready to go into the den of the woman who so readily insults him? 
“Oh, no you don’t have to do that,” I shook my head. “I’ll just have Lee do it.”
Ed blinked, seeming to think over something before standing up, “I’ll be right back.” Before he was fully out the door he paused, “Whose case files did you need?”
I couldn’t help the tiny grin at how eager he was as I gave him the names of the people I needed files on. Yet that smile fell. Was he really so excited to get a chance to see Kringle that he almost left without knowing what files he needed? I finished my snack, getting a drink from the vending machine while I was at it. My mind continued to make up terrible scenarios that could be happening at that moment. How she could manage to crush Ed’s precious heart even more than she’s already managed to.
Ed was back quicker than I realized. It took him less than ten minutes! He set the files I needed on the table, that tight lipped grin on his face as he waited for my input.
“Oh! Thank you!” I thanked, flipping through the files to make sure they were all there. “She didn’t give you any trouble, did she?”
“No,” He replied simply. As I met his gaze, that’s when I finally realized that he was truly over Kringle. I should’ve felt disturbed at how intense his gaze was, at how strong his emotions seemed to be when he wasn’t even trying. Yet I only felt flattered, important, and wanted. Emotions I wasn’t completely used to, and caused my heart to stutter at how strong my own emotions were becoming. 
Standing up, I leaned in and kissed his cheek again, this time a bit more confident then the last time I did. I waved goodbye as I walked out with the files he gave me. I felt pride swell within me as I watched Eddie become a flustered mess as I left. It was a good mood lifter as I watched him fumble with his usual nervous ticks, before he was finally out of my sight. 
Edward’s courting tactics only seemed to grow after that. I wasn’t sure what changed him to do so. I could only speculate that Lee had something to do with it. She kept stopping by my office, asking how Ed and I were doing like she hadn’t just seen us the day before. I can’t lie, I was reveling in the attention that Ed was giving me, and I could tell he’d revel in my attention as well. A mutual pining on both sides. 
Normally, I’d be okay with that. Too scared to try and push things forward. Edward Nygma was different. He was just so…amazing. I’ve never felt so strongly towards someone. He was sweet, attentive, smart, and overall lovely. I couldn’t just settle for pining, I wanted to experience what it would be like as his lover. 
Which led me to this horrendous mess up of a confession.
I dressed up a bit nicer than usual, hoping to impress the cute dork. I felt confident in myself, an emotion I don’t feel regularly. I greeted Lee, who seemed like she guessed the occasion and sent me a wink when I walked past. 
“Hey Eddie,” I greeted, setting a cup of coffee down on the counter.
“Oh! Hello,” He greeted me, smiling. “You seem chipper this morning.”
Nudging the coffee towards him I smiled back, “It’s a good day today. I got you a coffee.”
“You didn’t need to,” Ed replied sheepishly, not used to people giving him things. 
I only shrugged, “I wanted to.” I tapped the counter I was leaning on as nerves started to slowly creep through me. So, before my anxiety could get the best of me, I blurted out, “What is mine but only you can have?”
With furrowed eyebrows, Ed actually paused to answer a riddle for the first time during this little game we had. His eyes flitted around the room, like he was trying to avoid the answer. I know he was smart enough to figure it out, so the fact he was taking so long to answer caused my heart rate to spike from anxiety. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I was reading the room wrong. I blame Lee for feeding me a wrong understanding. 
“I…uh…” Ed stuttered over his words, sweat dripping down the side of his face. Shit, shit, shit! I shouldn’t have said that. He does know the answer, I found it online easily, he obviously knows. He doesn’t feel the same and now he’s trying to find a way to politely reject me. 
“Nevermind!” I exclaimed, trying to quell my nerves by getting the fuck out of here. “Stupid riddle! Never needs an answer. I should get to work.”
“W-wait!” Eddie called out, making me stop in my tracks. So close yet so far. “I can be a fruit, I can be on a calendar, I can be important, and I can be forgotten. What am I?”
Turning back around, I watched as Eddie picked at his nails. We both seemed like complete messes at the moment. It was hard for me to think of anything due to my previous failure of admitting my feelings. I bit my lip awkwardly, trying to stop myself from making any more of a fool of myself.
“I…I’m not sure Eddie,” I chuckled solemnly.
Clearing his throat, he adjusted his glasses before admitting, “A date. W-would you accompany me on one?” I stared at him with wide eyes, unsure if I heard him correctly.
“Y-yeah! Of course I will!” That tinge of embarrassment was quickly overpowered by exhilaration. The smile that stretched across my face almost hurt with how big it was. Eddie’s smile was also wide as he still couldn’t meet my eyes.
“Is…is tonight okay? Dinner? 7 o’clock?”
“That sounds perfect.” 
And to make the moment better, I kissed his cheek before parting, excited for what the night held for us.
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hotpinkstars · 3 months
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-> shenhes reaction to different love languages
synopsis -> how shenhe reacts to different love languages. pretty self-explanatory.
w/c -> 1.5k
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-> quality time
as we all know, shenhe is certainly not one who knows love. so when you first introduced the topic of quality time to her, she just kind of cocked her head and looked at you. she was someone who quite literally needed assistance to keep her homicidal nature at bay, and you were someone who could barely harm a flee. why ever would you want quality time with her, she thought? although the both of you are a couple, she won’t ever understand all of that stuff that normal couples do. 
it takes a minute or two (more like a couple futile attempts) to get her to open up to spending a lot of time like that with you, but once you get her to maybe get a bite to eat at a cuisine in the harbor, she warms up to the idea a little bit more. she still doesn’t understand why couples like to do this- she was put under the impression of relationships being kissing, hugging, and sleeping together. 
soon enough, she’ll be the one to request to do some of these things that you showed her. depending on how much she wants it, you might have to take the hint, or she’ll just blandly tell you directly. 
“i would like to grab a meal in liyue harbor like we did last week.”
“shenhe, it’s two in the morning… but as soon as the sun rises, sure!” 
well, she’s sure got the spirit!!
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-> words of affirmation
the first time you even said something as simple as “i love you so, so much,” this woman kind of just froze and asked you to repeat that. 
she doesn’t get it. she probably asked you why people say that at first, and then she got it. she already kind of knew, she just wanted to be sure she heard you right. and that she did. a few minutes after you said that to her she could feel a nice warmth in her chest and a little grin coming onto her face. 
even things such as “i love the way you did your braid today!” make her feel so grateful that she was able to date someone such as you. sometimes cloud retainer wonders what's got her in such a good mood these past few months, considering how sour she sometimes can be.
another one she tries to reciprocate once she gets used to it. (spoiler alert: she does it for all of these lol.) she’ll sometimes tell you that you look particularly nice that day. in her eyes, you look glamorous every day, but she saves that for when you two go to a fancy restaurant and you’re all dressed nice.
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-> acts of service
acts of service for shenhe seem pointless in her eyes at first. she has learned to take care of herself, why should she need someone else to do the things she does for own good for her? she can make her own bed, she can put toothpaste on her own toothbrush, and she can cook her own meals. so, when she first saw that the bed was all made, the pillows were fluffed, and there was already toothpaste on her toothbrush from when you were last in there, she seemed a little.. shocked? it was very hard to tell what she felt, but she felt, once again, a warmth in her chest. she came out of the room to ask you about it, and saw you making breakfast. 
“well, i just decided maybe you’d like it! if you don’t, i can stop…” 
“well… i.. really like this.. act of kindness. but i do not know if i understand it yet.”
you laughed and motioned for her to sit down as you served two plates and decided to chat her up a little bit about what you were going to do that day. she ate her food with a small smile, and engaged in the conversation. 
sometimes, she’d come home to find little samples of some foods she likes with a little note on the side of the plate saying something like “i made something i picked up on you liking. i hope you enjoy it!” 
this was one she decided to take little steps to show. she’d do basics that she didn’t even realize she was doing before, like tidying up the room a little bit or putting the dishes away or folding the blankets. all she knew is that it made you happy to see the house so nice and clean, so she continued to do it whenever she was available to. 
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-> receiving gifts
talk about something she isn’t all that familiar with.
the first time you put a little trinket in her hands- for instance, a keychain, she just looked at you curiously. 
“what is this?”
“oh, nothing really. i just thought it would be cute to dangle from your vision. see, it even matches your hair color!”
she handed it back to you and told you to hook it somewhere on her vision. she looked at it with a mirror and a kamera, smiling gratefully, even though she didn’t think it was all that necessary. she got used to your constant gift giving though, and, once again, didn’t understand what the occasion was, she still cherished them silently. the first time you gifted her something bigger, like maybe a pair of heels, she thought she missed something.
“y/n, what is this for? is there some occasion i am not aware of? it’s not your birthday, or my birthday, or our anniversary… is it maybe a holiday?”
“nope!” you replied. “just saw them on sale in liyue. i bought them because they looked like they matched your style!” 
she took another good look at these and put them in the closet. you saw her wear them with her combat outfit a few days later, indirectly trying to show them off to you.
she’ll try and get you gifts too, but she’ll go to the traveler or cloud retainer for help. the traveler has met you a few times, so he/she probably knows what you like just based off of how much shenhe talks about you, and just by your bubbly personality. 
paimons always the one bringing the gift idea up to shenhe. if she likes the idea, then the gift will be given to you as early as possible. 
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-> physical touch
if she’s gonna be starved of any of this, it’s gonna be physical touch. she’s gotten a few pats on the head or shoulder by cloud retainer or her fellow adepti companions whenever she’s done something well, but that’s the extent of it. she has never been tackled to the bed and cuddled before, she’s never really been hugged, and she certainly hasn’t slept in the same bed in a super touchy manner with anyone else before you. 
the first time you rolled over to her side of the bed and latched onto her back, sliding your arms around her waist and propping your head on her shoulder, she was understandably stunned. at first, she tried to pull away, but you wouldn’t let her. so, she was stiffer than a board the rest of the night to be careful not to roll on top of you, and immediately brought it up to you in the morning. you told her it’s just what you do, and was always what you did since you were a child- you felt the need to constantly hug something in your sleep, and you decided to hug her. she just slightly nodded, still not understanding, and walked away for a little while to process what happened the night before. 
she’ll eventually be much more open to the idea of allowing you to rest on top of her or hugging her, still being fairly stiff. but the first time you asked her to rest her head on your chest, she declined, saying she was “too strong and could potentially cut off your airways if she wasn’t careful.” you brushed that thought off and slightly begged her until she sighed and very slowly let her weight fall onto your body. she genuinely liked the way this made her feel, and continued to do it much more often- when she was sad, upset, stressed, or just felt the need to lay on your chest for a few minutes.
when it came to hand-holding or hugging, she wasn’t opposed. she just made a strict rule that there is no hugging or cuddling in public. you agreed, and only did those things when you both knew that there was privacy. the last thing the both of you wanted was to scare each other off. that would be crushing to both ends.
 she was much more open to cuddling and hand holding and all that comes with it later into your relationship- you realized she was a woman who needed an indescribable amount of patience, and that you were willing to give.
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laroserie · 3 months
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i probably won't extend of that expect if people want me to (still scared of getting told to kms for writing about hh or hb) but !
the idea of (yandere? not necessarily but i am a yandere fan) Alastor whose darling/the reader is a baker!
the reader is of course a sinner, but they aren't someone that ended up in hell for something like murder or a really big sin, something more silly, petty. they were in hell for a while, they accepted that they were stuck there and decided to just keep on 'living'
so they open up a bakery, maybe they were a baker when they were alive or maybe they just like to bake - either way, they open their little bakery in a part of the ring of hell that is kinda better off then the rest, one part where their store is less likely to get burned down.
they will somewhat peacefully - outside of when the extermination happen, they fear for their life - and they still aren't sure as to how they survived that many years in hell. and they often have to get their shop fixed up after the yearly extermination. that bit is annoying but outside of that, life is as peaceful as life in hell can be.
before Alastor disappeared for seven years, he used to be a somewhat regular customer, you made some pretty good breads and pastries. it was when he was starting to get more and more powerful as an overlord so you were very much on the verge of passing out everytime he came in the store and tried to limit the amount of words shared between the two of you. you never knew if you ever slipped and ended up offending him, you didn't want to be an another one of those broadcasted scream.
but once he reached his peak, a few years before his disappearance, you stopped being this tensed up around him, you started engaging in small talks with him, it wasn't anything extraordinary, mostly centering around the weather and what he choose to buy this time. at some point you even started to ask him to sample one of your creation before officially selling it.
you ended up being somewhat attached to the radio overlord.
and then he ... was gone. for seven years. you were somewhat sad about this, but you were not THAT close to him so you get over it.
but one day, while going about your day, while serving a customer you hear something weird, about a certain overlord being back.
you don't really believe in it, until you hear one of his broadcast, a small smile creep on your face hearing it. you're happy to hear him again, to know he is still alive and well. but you don't expect to see him in person or anything like this, you doubt he even remember you but one day, one morning shortly after you opened the bakery - you heard the little noise made from the bell of the entrance alerting you that someone has opened the front door, and you see him.
without thinking much, you smile at Alastor and give him a warm 'Good morning !' and again, without thinking you add 'It's been a while, glad to see you're back.' you only realize that one of the most powerful overlord could not like a measly sinner to talk to them like they are a friend when they are barely acquaintances that haven't seen each others in seven years.
but before you can correct yourself and let out a ton of 'sorry please don't kill me' Alastor answer you with a 'Hm, yes it's been quite some time. I am glad to see you still running this bakery dear.'
you simply nod at him and decide to ask what you ask every customers 'So what will you get today ?'.
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curvykittyyssmutfics · 3 months
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pussydrunk!Yuuji knew you had somethin special between your legs, even before you gave him a sample: He flirts with you endlessly, showing his interest in you any time he gets a chance. 'Fuck, y/n, have mercy...' Yuuji thinks when he finds you on your lavender loveseat beautiful brown legs spread, intently reading the magazine you're holdin up to your nose. The shape of your pussy in your tiny panties makes his mouth water; his dick rising so fast he gets a bit dizzy. "Hey, I'm so fuckin tired. Hope your day was better than mine, pretty baby.. Was it?" Yuuji asks sweetly. Your nose still pinches at the pet name "'S fine, I guess. Whooped the fuck outta Panda today." You answer without takin your eyes from the gossip you're currently consuming. "Scuse me, I was talkin to her. How rude!" You look down to see him starin between your thighs, leanin to plant wet kisses against your clothed clit lovingly. "So fuckin nasty.." You whisper, spreading to make room as Yuuji removes your underwear.
pussydrunk!Yuuji died and went to heaven the first time you let him hit: He's naked on top of you, eyes shut tight huffin hard as fuck in your face. "Ooh shit, girl! Tight as hell.. Ahhhh fuh- hold up.. Gonna cum, y/n. Pussy's too wet round my shit. Stay still for a second." Oh hell naw! Can't believe your ears right now. You didn't get all dolled up for nothing. Makeup perfectly matching your glittery sapphire one piece lingerie. "Yuuji, you just slid in.. Aint even start strokin yet." Tone heavy with annoyance, but he can barely hear you. Blood rushin in his ears; black dots his vision. Then Yuuji's filling you up half a second later; lickin and suckin on your neck as he presses in deep as he can. "Fuckfuckfuck! Please don't hate me, y/nnn.. Ah shit! Can't stooop.." He's crushing you under his weight, poor baby so incoherent. Doesn't even realize how he pathetically chants 'pussy's too good' as you land a smack on the back of his head.
pussydrunk!Yuuji feels like the world's ending when you don't let him fuck for a while after the first time: You're sitting with your back against your pillows in bed scrolling through the gram when he bursts in the room, briefly attempting to pry your knees apart. "Baby, come oooon. Need it so bad. Why are you torturing me like this?" Yuuji's been such a whiny brat about it. You want it too but he needs a fuckin lesson. "Boy.. First off, not ya baby. We ain't datin. Two, you came too fast, and waaay too fuckin much. Do you even know how much nut you spilled in my shit by the time you finished?" You fix him with a steely glare for good measure but his goofy ass only hits you with a perplexed "Ummm. A lot?" You scoff, rolling your eyes before looking back to your phone. "Baaaaaaby!" "Not cha baby.."
pussydrunk!Yuuji that starts bargaining after a few weeks, ready to gamble with his life if that means fuckin you asap: "Playin with my emotions, y/n. Just tell me what I need to do already. Do anything, name it. Just tell me what you want and it yours." He's got you pinned to a wall at the school, hands on either side of your head, dick tenting in his uniform. "No, Yuuji. Don't think you learned your lesson yet." "I did, baby! I'm sorry. So so sorry for filling your pretty lil pussy up without permission." You look into his shiny eyes, feeling a bit guilty at your teasing. His handsome features looking so devastated as he hangs his head, stuffing his face into your throat. Fuck, his submission has you so damn wet; panties sticking to your plump pussy lips. How much longer can you keep this up? "Hmmm.. Come over tonight?" Yuuji's like a kid in a candy store, head poppin up as he grins at you widely. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, baby." His kisses smother you as he whispers his appreciation against you lips. You laugh, pushing him back to retain your tough act. Even though all you want is to be impaled on his cock again. "Whatever, Itadori. Just dont be late. Oh and one more thing: Not your baby." Your tell him in a sing song voice, walking away with a little extra sway in your hips. "We'll see bout that.." Yuuji says to himself, squeezing his dick as he stares at the jiggle of your backside.
pussydrunk!Yuuji who refused to take any chances now that he's finally got another shot. He makes sure to jerk off before he comes over, hoping to God that helps with feeling of your compact pussy. When he gets there, he starts off with your pleasure; has you cum on his hand and tongue first. Yuuji quickly finds out nuttin before was a good idea. Especially from how his dick keeps jolting at the feel of you round his fingers, the delicious fuckin taste of you drippin down into his mouth. You're beggin for a break by the time Yuuji puts you on your side. "Pleeease baby, c-can't yet. Need a few mintues." Voice low, already a bit hoarse from screaming his name for the past half hour. "Aw.. I'm ya baby now? That right?" He coos, chuckling at how you nod but try scootin up to escape him swipin his dick up and down you drenched slit. He pulls you back by your hips, his fingers itchin to grip your y/h/c locks and hold you in place. "Naw, where you goin? Said I could finally get in this cute lil pussy tonight." "Can, just need to catch my- YUUJI!" Your not sure if you ever hollered so fuckin loud in your life, your soul descending straight to the depths of hell when he skewers you on his thick dick. "Hold up, baby. Pleeease! Dont gotta stop. Just n-need a quick break." "Mm mm, y/n. Can't do that." One arm slidin underneath you to wrap around and hold your tummy; the other under your knee to lift up your leg. Yuuji's thrusts are slow and shallow, just testing the waters of your perfect cunt, hoping to keep some kinda composure. "Oh. My. GOD. Got my dick trapped, baby. Lemme go so I can fuck you." Pulls your trembling frame closer against his body, kissing your shoulder, sliding in so much fuckin deeper. "Wait, Yuuji, wait!" You never receive any reprieve though. He only kisses your shoulder a second time, grippin at your tummy fat as he speeds up. "Wish I could. Mmmfuck.. Waited too long already." Eyes rollin back when he smashes his pelvis against your juicy ass over and over. "Cant think, cant eat or fuckin sleep without this pussy, y/n/n." Yuuji lifts your leg higher, opening you wider as his dick jams in to the base. Your pussy's drooling all over his balls, tits bouncing wildly and its getting really fuckin hard to take. "Y/nnn! Holy fuckin shit- gonna be mad at me when I creampie you again? Dont be, princess. Know I can't help myself." You're unable to do little more than wordlessly keen in response, poor cunt rapidly fluttering as his curved girth jams your g spot. Shit, no one's ever fucked you so thoroughly. You've never felt like this; can't even take a breath as he nails the tender spot with too much accuracy. "Yuujiiiiii!" You're squealing and squirting all over his cock, makin a mess of him without permission- just like he did a few weeks ago. Except, Yuuji fuckin loves it, is instantly obsessed with the sight and sensation. His eyes cross, saliva running down his chin as his body spasms and he nuts in you with everything he's got. "Oh fuck, y/n. This pussy mine! Baby, say it. Say it's mine, tell me you belong to me." It's the first time he's given you any typa command but you submit like you've been doin it all your life. "Yooours, Yuji. Forever yours!"
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muddyorbsblr · 6 months
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friday nights & hot dates [kinktober 2023: slow & soft]
See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! See my full list of works here!
Summary: A few months after he first showed up at your house to keep you company on your birthday, Conrad finally tells you how he feels. | sequel to 'you deserve better'
Pairing: James Conrad x Reader
Word Count: 6.1k [please prepare drinkies & snacks accordingly]
Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, get on outta here i won't ask twice); unprotected p in v sex; language; insecure reader; the smut scene is 1.3k words long idek if i should say sorry for this… [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: simp Conrad; a touch of aftercare in the end 😳🫠
Dick-tionary (aka smut guide): smut starts at "Once he realized what you were about to do" and ends at "We're nowhere near done"
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A loud chime boomed across the Monarch training field, announcing the top of the hour. The setting sun only barely blocked by the visor atop former Captain James Conrad's head and doing a piss poor job of straining his eyes as he watched on the first troop of soldiers assigned to the lab.
He'd been tasked to train the few handfuls of privates to be able to face the challenges that Skull Island would have in store for them throughout subsequent missions. They were decent enough, but to handle both navigating the hostile, monstrous terrain and serving as protective detail for the scientists on their tasks to obtain more samples and document its ecosystem, they would need to be exemplary. At the top of their game.
Especially if they are to be protecting Y/N, he thought to himself. Then again, he probably wouldn't let any of them anywhere near you. He would see to your protection personally. Make sure that there was little to no room for error when it came to your safety.
But they all had a long way to go before he decreed any of them ready for the field. And none of them would be closing the gap on their endurance or their agility within the next few minutes. The chime that rung out through the field not only signaled the top of the hour, but the end of your own work day, and he wanted to at least see you off to your ride home. Perhaps walk with you to the pick-up point.
"Alright, that's enough for today," he called out to the privates, everyone standing to attention at his word. "We'll resume on Monday morning. Get adequate rest this weekend."
He took off his training jacket and his visor, haphazardly running his hand through his short cropped hair. While he took a quick inventory of his belongings before heading off to your lab, one of the women privates approached him.
"Do you need anything, Pearson?"
She began to shuffle her stance, somewhat incapable of meeting his gaze as she spoke to him. "The other guys and I were going to check out the new Mexican place that opened up a few blocks from here. I was--I mean we were wondering if you'd like to join us?"
Pearson straightened her stance in a particular manner, jutting her chest out in a blatantly clear attempt to draw his attention to it. You're fresh out of luck, my attentions are for one woman and one woman only. And she's in the lab.
"Thank you for the invite, Pearson, but I have what you and your peers might say a…'hot date' tonight." He fought against the smile playing at the corners of his mouth at the thought of being on a proper date with you.
"Oh." She barely tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. "Okay then. Have a good weekend, Sir."
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"Don't look now but he's here again," Brooks muttered from across the lab, the sound of him clacking away on his keyboard taking the briefest pause to tell you that once again, the former SAS tracker James Conrad was right outside the door. "You ever gonna share with the class how you two became a thing? 'Cause we have a bet going on in the lab about who made the first move and--"
"There's nothing to share, Brooks, because we aren't a thing," you cut him off, taking on a snippy tone while you ran the genome of the last flora sample from the set you collected in Skull Island against every recorded organism known to man so far. "We're friends, that's all. Give it time and he'll get tired of slumming it out with me and go back to haunting pool bars and nameless hookups."
"I don't know, Y/L/N…I never had a friend look at me like that."
The results from your test finally came up on the screen, confirming that the flora on the island were all, in fact, undocumented. You took a quick screenshot and placed it into your report. "Looks like we're getting funded," you announced, your half-deadpanned tone met with a mixture of excitement and fear. "Don't everyone stand up at once, I know how pumped we all are to get back to the island of death."
You finally stood up from your desk, looking outside the door and seeing Conrad outside giving you a little smile when your eyes met. You tried to ignore how your heart started doing backflips in your chest at the sight of him, keeping your expression fairly neutral as you gave him a small wave in response. Once your computer had finished shutting down, you grabbed your things and bid everyone goodbye, stopping at Brooks's desk last.
"If what you mean is looking at me like a barnacle he can't scrape off his boat, I hope you never have friends that look at you like that, my guy."
Before you stepped through the door, your fellow scientist let out a final remark. "You know, Y/N, for someone so smart, you're a bit of an idiot sometimes."
"Takes one to know one, Brooks," you shot back, stepping across the threshold and almost immediately becoming face-to-chest with the tracker that towered over you effortlessly. "Hey Conrad," you said slowly, trying your best to keep a hold of your composure. "Did you need something from us? I think I have Bryant running CMP for the guys you're training you should have the results tomo--"
"I didn't come here for the blood tests, Y/L/N," he cut you off, giving you another little smile that had your pulse thumping violently at your throat. "I erm…it's Friday." His eyebrows scrunched together in the slightest wince at his words.
"It is…" you echoed lamely, starting to tap away at your phone to get an Uber home, holding back the urge to sigh in relief seeing that your ride was only a few minutes away. "Have a good weekend, then," you tried to wave him off, pointing vaguely at the pick-up area, starting to awkwardly shuffle away from him.
He reached out and wrapped his hand around yours, stopping you before you got away too far. "Actually, I was thinking…perhaps we could go and grab a bite to eat? There's a new place that opened up just a short walk from here. Maybe we could try it out?"
As if on cue, your stomach let out an audible grumble, rudely reminding you that the last time you ate was this morning before you left your house. Before you could dwell on it any further, you canceled your Uber, giving him a tiny smile of your own. "Lead the way."
Dinner was a rather quiet affair, the two of you starting off by sharing a plate of nachos before you ordered your mains. Sometime before your entrees were served, a small group of people you recognized as the privates being trained as the Monarch Defense Team walked through the doors, the women immediately spotting Conrad and tossing a scornful dismissive look your way.
"What's wrong?"
His voice took your attention away from the group, the motion of him reaching across the table to take your hand in his causing a resounding stomp from across the restaurant followed by a barely contained "What the fuck?!"
"It's uhh…it's nothing," you waved off, trying to slowly pull your hand away so as to not elicit a stronger reaction from the group and grab his attention. "Just…thinking about work. I have to put a recommendation for another mission to the island in my report."
"We'll be better prepared this time," he reassured you, his thumb rubbing across the back of your hand in a soothing motion. "We have a better idea of what we're to face when we get there, and what not to do. And with enough time the troop that I'm training might even be field ready, so you and your team would have better protection."
Your neck twitched at the idea of the woman with the derisive eyes being tasked to protect you. Might even just throw you to the gigantic insects voluntarily. "Right…at least the team will be safe."
"And you, Y/N," he insisted, giving your hand a light squeeze. "I'll see to it myself, I promise you."
You nodded at his words, feeling your face strain at the smile you tried to give him before slipping your hand out of his and standing up. "Ladies room, I'll be back in a few."
While you were in line for the restroom, your thoughts wandered to how you could potentially word your recommendation so that maybe you didn't have to go with the rest of the team back to Skull Island. You weren't physically cut out to be in such a high-stress environment, and frankly you would be more of a liability if people had to look out for you on top of trying to survive a hostile environment.
When your turn came up in the queue, you were stopped in your tracks by someone wrapping their hand around your arm in a claw-like grasp, yanking you slightly backwards. "We need to talk, Y/L/N," a woman seethed.
You swore your blood chilled to near freezing point when you saw the woman private from Conrad's troop, her hateful eyes and vicious sneer too close for comfort.
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There was something troubling you, Conrad could tell that much as he watched you in line for the restroom. Much as he usually found it adorable when you were muttering to yourself over your research, he had to fight to resist the urge to stand up and do what he could to somehow put you at ease.
He knew that you weren't all too excited that you had to return to the island, but his gut told him that it was more than just that. You seemed almost fearful when he mentioned the troop that he was training, and not in the way that told him it was simply because you doubted their ability to guarantee your safety.
Did you not realize that he would never even think to put your safety in anyone's hands other than his own? Didn't you know how valuable you were to him? Of course he would keep you safe. He'd put you in the same tent if he could just to make sure you'd never leave his sight.
The sight of a woman marching towards you as if on a war path had him leaving his seat within seconds, immediately recognizing it to be Pearson. When she stopped you from moving and he clocked the vice grip she had on you it had him seeing red. He saw the way you flinched back when she started hissing in your face, her words making every muscle in his body tense and burn with the itch to protect you from someone so obviously spiteful.
"Don't tell me you're the hot date that Captain Conrad turned me down for, this has to be the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard in my life," she spat out. Your face contorted with obvious discomfort from her talon-like hand tightening around your arm, nails undoubtedly digging into your skin.
"Listen, Private Pearson, I think there might just be a misunderstanding," you spoke softly, your tone laced with caution. "He's probably gonna go to said 'hot date' after this, I'm just his friend. We're friends…I think…"
Silly sweet girl, he thought to himself. Are you really so unaware of how I see you?
"Do you really think I'm that stupid, Y/L/N? I don't need to have a PhD in God knows what the ever loving fuck to know that you're into him. The only thing I can't figure out to save my life is what the fuck he sees in a mousey jumpy little thing like you, and where you found the goddamn audacity to steal him away the way you did."
"I'm not trying to steal anyone," you insisted, trying to wrestle your arm out of her hold. "We're just friends, Private Pearson. Anyone with a functioning brain can see that he doesn't want me like that. You want him, he's all yours, you won't hear a peep out of me."
"You better be right," she scoffed, releasing you with a slight shove, causing you to stumble backwards and fight to find your balance for a few seconds before righting yourself on your feet again. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay the fuck away from him. Preferably before you see what happens when your stupid little face gets me triggered."
Rather than give her a verbal agreement, you simply nodded your head, scurrying off into the restroom, your face looking as if it had been drained of color and your bottom lip quivering with an obvious concern for your own safety.
So this was why you were concerned over your protection detail if you had to return to the island. Of course. Who would ever feel safe if someone assigned to the team that was tasked to protect them behaved the way that Pearson was behaving now? Who was to say that it wasn't beneath her to intentionally endanger you out of sheer spite?
The private let out an arrogant huff, flipping her hair and standing up straight with a smug look on her face before making her way back to her table with the rest of the privates in her troop.
"Pearson," Conrad spoke, letting his irritation over the entire encounter lace his tone. She stopped in her tracks, turning slowly to face him with a touch of fear in her eyes. Good, you should be afraid after the way you just spoke to the woman I love.
"Cap…Captain Conrad, hi!" Her cheeks strained with the smile she tried to keep plastered on her face despite the obvious nervousness that remained in her eyes. "We're so glad you decided to join us after all, we're seated over--"
"You're dismissed. Don't bother coming in on Monday." Her face fell immediately, indignation coloring her expression. "If you cannot treat the people you're expected to defend and protect with professionalism and respect, then you're not fit to stay on this team, let alone be deployed to the island."
"Come on, all this for a shifty little nothing? This is completely unfair!" she scoffed. "You could do so much better than her--"
"Hold your damn tongue, Pearson. I won't have you disrespect her--"
"She can't even hear us!"
"But I can." He began to raise his voice, calling the attention of the other patrons in the restaurant. "That's the woman I love you're talking about. It would be wise for you to choose your next words very carefully."
All the color drained from her face and she stood up straight again, back at full attention. "I apologize, Sir. I'll have my locker cleared before the weekend's over." And then she made her way back to her table, heavy footsteps sounding throughout the whole restaurant.
As Conrad sat back in his seat waiting for you to return, he replayed his own words over and over in his mind. After all this time keeping his emotions bottled in for the sake of preserving what friendship he had with you, the words had finally formed and solidified what had been building ever since the day he met you on the way to that forsaken death island.
He loved you.
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By the time you made your way back to your table, you spotted Conrad signing a receipt and placing his credit card back into his wallet.
"You know I keep a tally on how many times you've refused to let me pay, right?" you sighed, taking out your phone and once again trying to book for an Uber home. "I'm perfectly fine with and capable of splitting the bill."
"Next time."
"I also keep a tally on how many times you've said exacty that." You shuffled your feet awkwardly where you stood, avoiding looking at both him and the table that sat his trainees, including the cruel witch that was Private Pearson. "Well uhm…I should get going, it's getting late. Enjoy your weekend, Conrad."
He reached out before you took another step, placing his hand at the curve of your waist. "Walk with me back to the lab and I'll drive you home."
The sound of a fist slamming down on one of the tables made you take a step back from his hold. You didn't have to look to know who it was or what caused the outburst. "I-I really don't wanna be a bother, it's fine. Really. I can take care of myself."
You tried to step forward again, making him stand from his seat, placing a large hand on your shoulder before running down the length of your arm to lace his fingers between yours. "You could never be a bother for me, Y/L/N," he spoke softly, lightly touching your chin with his other hand. "Come on."
For the most part throughout the drive to your place, he was touching you. Whether it be holding your hand between stoplights to make you stop picking at your fingernails, or rubbing circles on your knee to stop you from fidgeting, all the while keeping his other hand steadily on the wheel.
It was hands down one of the most illegally distractingly attractive things you'd ever seen. A sight that you thought was only reserved for leading ladies in those romance books you read, definitely not something you were supposed to experience in your lifetime.
It had you fighting back the urge to pout when you saw your house start to come into view, knowing that in a few short moments it would all be over. He gave your knee a light squeeze once he'd pulled up in front of your hourse, making quick work to make his way around the front of his car to open the door for you and undo your seatbelt.
The combined scent of his woodsy citrusy cologne and something that was just uniquely him seared itself into your brain as his face was mere inches from yours. He made it even worse reaching for your hand to hold you steady while you stepped out of the car.
"Thanks, Conrad," you muttered when you got to your door, your mind spinning from the feel of him running his thumb across your knuckles. "You should uhm…probably get going. Don't wanna keep you from any other plans you might have tonight."
You felt your pulse start beating furiously at your neck when he answered you. "What plans?"
Didn't Pearson have a full blown meltdown over him talking about a hot date and then seeing you with him at dinner? What the fuck was he going on about?
"Come on, Conrad, you don't have to pretend, it's just us here. Pearson practically yanked my spine from my throat earlier at the restaurant harping on about you having plans tonight so really, I'm sure you have better things to do on a Friday night you don't have to feel like you're…I don't know, obligated? To spend time with me. And at least you'll stop looking like you're doing some weird pity charity work, too--"
"Y/N, stop." He took a step toward you, closing the distance and framed your face in his large hands. "The only plans I had for tonight were with you. Do you remember what I told you all those months ago, that first night I came here?" You only stared at him blankly, wordlessly prompting him to answer it himself. "I wanted to let you know that I'm here. For you. And I still am. I always will be."
Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. Fleeting, but it resumed the near violent fluttering in your stomach from the contact. He gave you no time to react before he pressed his lips to yours again, wrapping his arms around you and cradling your head with his hand before pressing you against the door.
"Look at me, sweetheart," he breathed out when he broke the kiss. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat when you saw how dilated his pupils had become after that kiss. "How is it that you're so observant of everything around you and yet you fail to see what's right in front of you?"
"Conrad what--"
"How could you look at me and not see a man so desperately, so irretrievably in love?"
You swore all the air left your lungs at his words. In love? No. This couldn't be real. This was beyond simply improbable, this was impossible.
There was no way on this Earth that he felt the same.
"I can almost hear the gears in your brilliant mind turning, Y/L/N," he said softly, weaving his fingers into your hair as he proceeded to press tender kisses on your temple and the side of your face. "Invite me inside. Let me take you to your bedroom. Let me show you what you mean to me."
Before you could think about it any longer, you wordlessly slipped your key into his hand, slowly nodding your head. The only response you got from him was him latching his lips onto your neck, groaning into your skin as he lifted you off the ground with one arm, unlocking your door with the other.
He'd carried you all the way upstairs to your bedroom, constantly pressing a kiss wherever his lips could reach. When he started fumbling for the light switch, you tried to hold out your hand to stop him. "No lights," you muttered. If you wanted this to go anywhere even remotely good tonight, that would require him not running for the hills the second he got you naked.
"Without the lights, I can't see you, sweet girl," he said back teasingly, kissing along your jawline until he captured your lips, smiling into the kiss.
"Exactly," you murmured against his lips, causing him to chuckle against your skin.
"Seeing you is the best part of my day," he told you simply, flipping the switch on and bathing your bedroom in a warm white glow. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the brilliant smile he gave you once he saw your face. "There you are."
He set you down on your feet, touching the top button of your shirt with a question in his eyes, only proceeding to undo the button when you have him a slight nod. Once enough skin was exposed to him, he started to trace a line of kisses across your collarbone, running his hands down your arms to strip the shirt off from you. And then he sent your mind racing as he gave you the same treatment working both your pants and panties down your legs.
"I've dreamed of this since the island," he whispered into your skin, kissing his way back up to your lips as he reached behind you, unclasping your bra. "Lie down on the bed, my love. Let me see you."
He kept your hand in his as you lowered yourself to lie on your back, your heart thundering in your chest and your lip quivering as his eyes hungrily roamed your body. Thoughts began to swim in your head again, of how different, how much less toned nearly all parts of you were compared to him. Compared to the women he'd been with before. You tried to pull your hand away from his, to start to cover yourself.
Once he realized what you were about to do, he moved to hover over you on the bed, placing his hand in the space between your arm and your torso to block your way. "No," he said simply before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. "Don't hide yourself from me." He kissed his way down your neck to your chest, paying close attention to your breasts, holding you steady as you squirmed under him while he kissed and sucked your nipples into stiff peaks.
"Conrad…" Your voice came out faint, the air too thick to breathe while you drowned in his attentions. His lips moved down your stomach, peppering kisses along your mound before placing his hands on your inner thighs and gently parting your legs, opening yourself more to him.
You clenched around nothing watching him lick his lips before his eyes found yours, desperate whimpers coming out of you when he started kissing along your inner thighs. The ache between your legs started to grow stronger the closer his mouth got to where you craved him.
"Conrad!" Your back arched off the bed when he licked up the length of your slit and pressed a fleeting open-mouthed kiss to your clit.
"Lay back down, sweetheart." Your back immediately met the mattress again at his soft spoken order, your stomach fluttering violently again at the sight of him standing over you and pulling his shirt over his head. "You are the most breathtaking sight," he breathed out. "My love…"
"Could say the same from here," you shot back, still struggling to breathe properly under his gaze. The air was practically stuck in your throat the second his hands went to his pants, taking his time to undo his belt and pants, every muscle on his perfectly sculpted body moving and flexing as if he was trying to seduce you with such a seemingly mundane action.
As if he needed to seduce you.
The sound that came out of you was borderline inhuman the second he pushed his pants down his legs, and you'd gotten a good look at the sheer size of him. There's no way that's gonna fit, you thought nervously. "Conrad, I don't--" You huffed out a deflated sigh. "It's been an embarrassingly long while since I've--"
"It's alright, sweetheart." He quickly made his way back to his position on the bed, pressing a line of kisses along your jaw until he reached your lips, making an almost relieved sound against your lips. "We'll go slow. Please just tell me if I hurt you, that's the last thing I'd ever want."
Your eyes flew open at the feel of his length pressing against your entrance, your walls stretching just shy of the point of discomfort as you accommodated to his size. Any other thoughts and doubts in your mind took a backseat to the sound of Conrad's soft groans as he inched his way into you.
You'd never felt this unbelievably full.
He moaned your name in your ear. "Like you were made for me." He pressed his lips to your temple, the gesture somewhat calming your erratically beating heart. "I'll keep going now."
"Wait Conrad you what--Oh!" You felt a thrill at the back of your head once he pushed even further in, more arousal rushing and slickening your inner walls clenching around him as if pulling him deeper into you. All you could utter over the overwhelming pleasure he was subjecting you to was a faint whimper of his name.
"I love you, Y/N," he sighed in contentment, his warm exhale hitting your already heated skin before he resumed kissing along the side of your face.
"Don't say that," you blurted out. "You don't have to--"
"I want to," he cut you off, moving his head to capture your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue licking at your bottom lip. "I've wanted to tell you for so long please don't tell me to stop. I can't--"
"No one's ever said it. Not to me. I'm not--I've never been--"
Your words stilled him. He rested his forehead on yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your own. "All the more reason for me to tell you." He muffled your moan with a kiss when he inched in even more. "I love you." He kissed up your neck, gently capturing your earlobe between his teeth before kissing the same spot. "I'll say it so often everyone around us will be sick of hearing me say the words."
"Conrad…" you cried out when he finally bottomed out, your hips flush together. "Please--"
"I love you." He started moving his hips in slow grinding circles, repeating the words every time he fully entered you.
The words were lodged stubbornly in the back of your throat; all you could utter was his name while your body trembled trying to raise your hips to meet his thrusts. Meanwhile a vicious voice in the back of your mind questioned if this was even real, refusing to accept any reality where a guy like James Conrad actually genuinely fell in love with you.
You lived by the saying that if something sounded too good to be true, then it probably was. And this…this sounded like a chick lit romance novel where the devastatingly handsome decommissioned soldier fell for the nerdy scientist that most days couldn't even bother to check if her hair looked alright from the back.
This was definitely too good to be true. And all you could do now was allow yourself the fleeting opportunity to lose yourself in the pleasure he was more than capable of and seemed quite willing to give you.
And brace yourself for the moment he pulled away. The moment he finally realized that yes. Yes he could do better, actually.
Before you could dwell on it any further, he pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts when his fingers made contact with the throbbing bundle of nerves above your entrance, rubbing at the spot with the same languid pace of his thrusts.
"You feel divine, my love," he moaned in your ear, pressing his lips to a spot behind it that sent your mind reeling, the tension tightening in your stomach even further. "Come for me, Y/N." He upped his pressure on your clit, still keeping the pace with his slow, deep thrusts.
The coiling tension finally snapped when he started sucking at your skin, your walls convulsing around him while your body shook under him, your hold on his shoulder blade weakening until you finally let go, arm landing on the mattress with a soft thud. He stilled his movement inside you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss while you came down from your high.
"I love you," he kept whispering between kisses. The words had you feeling the traitorous tears prickling in the back of your eyes, every part of you filled with the overpowering urge to say them back. Tell him that you felt the same.
Instead you wanted to slap yourself for the question that slipped from your mouth. "Wait what about you?"
The smirk he gave you in response had thrills shooting throughout your body, feeling the faintest tinge of embarrassment in the back of your mind when you felt your pussy clenching around him at the sight. His mouth stretched into a devilish grin as he thrusted into you in return, his eyes filled with an obvious mix of sexual and romantic intent.
"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart," he rasped, starting to slowly grind his hips again. "We're nowhere near done."
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He's not coming back. He left the bedroom and give it time, you're gonna hear him leave the house.
You were being irrational, and most of your mind recognized your thoughts for what they were: absolutely batshit crazy and dead wrong. For one, Conrad left the room without a stick of clothing covering him, telling you he was going to get water. He didn't know how to navigate most of your house so it would reasonably take him a few minutes to actually go get it and come back up.
That didn't stop you from making your way to the head of the bed, and crawling under the covers, drawing your knees to your chest as if you were bracing yourself for emotional impact. You caught a glimpse of your reflection on the full-length mirror, instinctively bringing your hand up to your hair to start working at the knots and tangles that developed over the last few hours.
Conrad came back to the room at that moment, holding a water bottle and two cups, giving you a soft smile as he looked on at all the effects from your lovemaking. "You look like an angel…perched on a cloud." He handed you your cup before pouring one for himself, raising an eyebrow at you when you remained sitting motionless and staring at him blankly. "What is it, sweetheart?"
"I just--I thought you were just gonna get for--"
"Myself?" You nodded at him once he finished for you, making him click his tongue in disappointment, realizing what kind of experiences you'd had before. "You're making it too easy for me to spoil you. I could never be so selfish." He briefly touched his glass to yours, the clinking sound filling the room before you both downed your drinks.
Even while he climbed back onto the bed, situating himself beside you and pulling you into his arms, your irrational thoughts that he'll redress himself in a few minutes time and leave plagued your mind.
"You're looking at me like you expect me to disappear," he murmured, lightly tracing along the lines of your face with his fingertips. "What's wrong, Y/N?"
Come on, you stupid little scaredy cat just tell him. Three words. Three monosyllabic words so simple a kid can say them. Just say it.
"You're still here," you blurted out, immediately wanting to swallow your tongue when his face dropped.
Wrong three words, you fucking idiot.
"Do you want me to leave?" His words came out strained, as if it physically hurt him to say them.
"No, I don't. It's just…I expect it. And if I can be honest I'm still kind of…waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
You pursed your lips, a part of you already feeling silly for the words about to come out your mouth. "Post-coital clarity?"
He let out a slow sigh, his hold tightening around you while he cupped your face with his free hand, stroking along your cheekbone with his thumb. "And what in the world is that?"
"It's this--Honestly it's silly, really--"
"It doesn't seem silly to you." He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, pulling you closer when you melted against him at the gesture. "So it's not silly to me. Tell me what it is."
You took a deep breath, your fingers absentmindedly tracing along the lines on his abdomen while you explained. "It's this phenomena that…once you've slept with someone, the attraction goes away. Your mind's more clear, you're no longer overpowered by this attraction and you realize that the person you just had sex with isn't as appealing as they were before you got together."
It took him a few seconds before he spoke again, maneuvering you so that you were now on top of him, straddling his stomach, his hands skimming up and down your sides.
"Why is it so hard for you to accept that I love you?"
The question seemed so ridiculous to you. "Because nobody ever has. Nobody does--"
"You're wrong," he cut you off, pulling you close until your chests were pressed together. "I know it might not happen often but it's happening now. You're wrong, and I'm living proof of it. Because I'm here. I'm here and I love you. The only clarity that came to me is that I want more than anything for us to become more. For what we shared tonight be more than a one-time thing."
He wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you into a tender kiss that had your heart fluttering when he licked into your mouth, his tongue gliding against yours. "I'm no good with words," you said breathlessly when he broke the kiss, his chest heaving against yours. "I've never been able to say how I feel, I can't--"
"Shh it's alright, sweetheart," he breathed, holding you by the back of your neck to rest your forehead against his. "You don't need those fancy words you use in your report. It's just us here. Whatever you wish to tell me, in the plainest words--"
"I love you, too."
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A/N: I've finally finished this mega chonker of a piece! And I've given 'you deserve better' Conrad his happy ending with his precious bb 🥹🥹
Next up is the final story in the Kinktober 2023 initial goal: Fingering with President Loki 😳👀 And lemme just tell y'all now…it's gonna be at least 2k words long because I haven't even gotten to the smutting yet 🥴
'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog
Kinktober taglist: @azula-karai-27
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misc-obeyme · 6 months
Note
I got a prompt for diavolo for flufftober! "Stop trying so hard to impress me."
That's always the first thought that pops into my head while listening to no. 1 lol
Hello, anon!
Okay I kinda ran with some of the ideas from the lyrics - specifically where he talks about dancing all night. But I was also just trying to capture the way he sings about being... well no. 1 lol. It's kind of a commanding presence that I think he probably has and that he likely does kind of without realizing.
Anyway! I hope this turned out okay.
Thank you for submitting a prompt!
FLUFFTOBER 2023
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GN!MC x Diavolo
Warnings: none!
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When you arrived at the Demon Lord's Castle, there was a lull in the bustle of the party as you entered. Nobody announced you, but nobody needed to. You looked absolutely stunning in the custom outfit Barbatos had made, as requested by Lord Diavolo himself. All of the demons that were already in the castle paused their conversations to take in the sight of you.
Even more of them watched as Diavolo deliberately crossed the room to greet you. He was in full demon form, standing out among the others like a jewel among rocks. In the soft lights of the party, the gold on his horns and wings seemed to sparkle softly, a glittering that was also reflected in his eyes as he looked at you.
"Welcome, MC," he said. He spoke at a normal volume, but somehow his voice seemed to carry through the space. "I am so thrilled you could be here tonight."
You smiled at him, matching his formality while everyone could see and hear you. "Thank you for inviting me, Lord Diavolo."
The moment seemed to pause for what felt like an eternity until Lucifer entered the castle door behind you. You felt his hand on your back, guiding you down the hall. After him came the rest of the demon brothers, all in demon form. Diavolo greeted them each enthusiastically and the attention of the other demons in the room shifted from you to them.
As you and the brothers began to move through the room, you soon found Diavolo by your side. Due to his fame, people continued to watch him as he remained next to you, asking you questions and chatting about mundane things.
Diavolo launched into an explanation of the food on the buffet table, all of it prepared to perfection by Barbatos. You murmured in appreciation, sampling a few things you knew you'd like to try before they disappeared into Beelzebub.
The castle certainly looked amazing. No expense had been spared in the decorations for tonight. The whole place seemed to shimmer in glossy light, gold adornments, and sparkling guests.
You found yourself next to the most elaborate Demonus fountain you had ever seen. The Demonus was a gold vintage that splashed over the sides of a glass fountain. Next to this was a tower of sparkling glasses. Diavolo filled two glasses and handed you one.
"I know you aren't affected by Demonus," he said. "But this particular variety still has a lovely flavor that I think you would enjoy. It's very rare. We had it imported from across the Devildom."
"You had this much of it imported?" you asked, eyeing the fountain.
Diavolo beamed. "It was no easy feat, but we managed it!"
You sipped at the Demonus. You were pleased to discover that it did actually have quite a good flavor. "It's good," you said.
Diavolo looked positively radiant in response to your praise.
A little later on in the evening, a band began to play. Diavolo bowed to you, which made you blush and caused everyone else in the room to watch you both. He took your hand and looked into your eyes.
"May I have this dance, MC?" he asked.
You couldn't exactly say no with everyone watching. Not that you would have anyway. You smiled. "Of course, Lord Diavolo."
Diavolo escorted you onto the dance floor. He was a good dancer, no doubt having been taught by Barbatos from a young age. He took the lead, moving you effortlessly, but keeping you close to himself. You were relieved to see a few other demons joining you, meaning it wasn't just the two of you.
The music became slower and softer. As it did, Diavolo pulled you even closer to his body, his wings almost creating a sort of shelter around you. His movements were much slower now, making it easier for you to truly look at him.
"You really command the room, you know," you said, taking in his demon form. He was easily the largest demon there. His personality, his presence, it was all larger than life.
Diavolo squeezed your hand, the arm around your waist also tightening. "I am aware of having eyes on me at all times," he said. "They think I'm doing this for them, but the only one I care about tonight is you."
You laughed gently. "Is that why you went to such great lengths? Having Barbatos make me this outfit? Importing rare Demonus? All these gold decorations?"
Diavolo puffed up a little. "Is it not exquisite?"
"Stop trying so hard to impress me," you said. You dropped his hand, stepping in a little closer beneath his wings and putting both of your arms around his neck. "Don't you realize that I like you best when you're just being… you?"
Diavolo seemed so taken aback by this statement that he missed a step. His hands on your waist kept you from stumbling, but you had both stopped moving at that point.
There was something in those golden eyes that you couldn't quite read, though they were so wide as he looked at you, searching your face.
"I have spent so much of my life trying to impress others," Diavolo said, his voice unexpectedly quiet. "Everyone has different expectations of me. It's the burden of being a ruler, one that I shoulder without complaint. And yet here you are, telling me to just be myself."
You ran your fingertips down his cheek. "You don't have to be the next Demon King with me. You can just be Dia."
Diavolo wrapped his wings around you even further before he kissed you in the privacy they created. You put your hands on his chest and felt the rapid racing of his heart.
It was a night to remember. While the other guests would recall the fancy food, drink, and decorations, you would forever hold the memory of the moment Diavolo realized you loved him simply for being himself.
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flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb
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juneknight · 7 months
Text
One and One and One
Kink: cuckolding
Layla/f!reader/Marc
Features: cuckolding, cumming untouched, strap-ons, oral sex, mentions of safewords.
*
“Can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Marc murmurs beneath his breath as you cuff his hands behind his back to the slats of the chair. One of his ankles are cuffed to the chair legs—though why he and Layla only have one cuff, you have no idea. This is the closest you’ve ever been to Marc. Close enough that you can see his every eyelash, the different dark hues in his irises, the little indentation in the tip of his nose. As close as you are, you know that he is scrutinizing you as well, dark eyes sweeping over the plains of your face. You wonder if he can feel the heat being thrown off by your cheeks. 
“I didn’t talk you into this,” you remind him shyly. “Layla did.” 
Marc’s mouth—full and pink and so fucking soft looking—quirks upward at the edges. “I can’t believe you let her talk you into this.” 
“Me either,” you admit dryly.
You can’t, really. You and Layla had been friends for so many years—and yes there had been a few nights when you were younger that you had explored each other physically and romantically, but it had been so long. When she came to you and admitted Marc had this fantasy, and that her only caveat was that you be their partner. Did she know about your (harmless!) little crush on Marc? Surely she knew about your (even more harmless!) crush on her.
Regardless, if Layla’s stories were anything to go by, she and Marc got up to some very kinky stuff. 
Have you ride Layla while Marc watched might take the cake, though. 
“Getting friendly?” Layla asks when she comes in, wearing only one of her satin-silky robes, the hem of which brushes just above her knees. You can see her hard nipples through the fabric. Layla loves having her breasts stimulated—suckled, nibbled, fondled. Maybe she’ll let you do more than just ride her strap-on before the night is over. 
“I’m having second thoughts,” Marc says lowly, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you. “Mostly thinking that I’m an idiot for agreeing to let myself be tied up when you’re both in the room having sex.” 
“You know your safeword,” Layla says with a grin. She looks to you and mouths ‘Moon’. You nod to let her know you understand. Her smile only grows at your obedience. Turning to face you head-on, she lets her hands fall to your hips. She ducks her head and kisses you, and you are already moaning into her mouth. Layla kisses like she does everything in life: with honed practice, with passion. You hear the cuffs rattle as Marc fights against his bonds, and it only makes you realize how wet you are, how wet you have been all night, so eager for dinner to be over so that the three of you could begin this. 
“Fuck,” Marc groans. “Untie me. Let me out.” 
“No,” Layla says after parting from you reluctantly. You chase her mouth a little and she laughs at how desperate you are. 
“Fucking—I mean it Layla!” 
“He likes to be a little brat,” Layla whispers to you conspiratorially. Her hand comes up to cup your cheek. “But you—you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 
You nod, feeling struck dumb by her. 
“Let’s find you a nice big cock get fucked by, huh?” she says with a grin, her cheeks flushed warm and eyes glittering with mirth and mischief. She goes to the bed where the different dildos lay out like hor’dourves to be sampled. They are all of different length or girth or color, some textured, others smooth. Whispering just loud enough for Marc to hear, she asks: “Shall we choose one that’s bigger than his? So that we can feel what it’s like to really get fucked?” 
“I’ll show you what it’s like,” Marc vows darkly. 
“I wouldn’t know which to pick,” you admit. It’s not as if you’ve ever seen Marc’s cock. 
“Hmm, my choice, then,” she says, tapping her chin. At last she settles on a monster—if she truly was trying to find one that was bigger than Marc’s and this was her last resort, then Marc must be pretty well hung. You can’t help but glance toward him, taking in the picture he makes. Dressed in only his jeans and the white t-shirt he had changed into after spilling soy sauce on his dress-shirt at dinner, his muscles bulge against his bonds as he tests them again and again. His eyes are unfathomably dark, his breaths fast and shallow. 
His cock, hard and pressing at the denim confines. When his eyes meet yours, you feel liable to explode. You turn away quickly, just as Layle focuses on you. She undresses you with gentle, tender touches, pausing every now and then to stroke a new expanse of skin until you sigh with pleasure. 
When she works the lacy little set of panties down your hips, she holds them up to Marc like a spoil of war, her expression smug. 
“Be a good boy, or I’ll gag you with these,” she warns him. Marc opens his fucking mouth. Layla breathes an incredulous little laugh. “Oh, you want them anyway? Proactive. What a good little slut you make, baby.” 
She goes to him and feeds the scrappy piece of lace into his mouth. Stepping aside, she rifles through the bedside drawer for a moment to find a ball with a bell inside. She presses it into his hand: a non-verbal safe word. His knuckles stand out as he grips the ball tightly, perhaps silently trying to show that he wouldn’t be dropping it—not for anything. 
Layla comes back to you and kisses you until you’re dizzy. Her hands trace along you, relearning the plains of your body the way they did all those years ago when the two of you first explored each other and your sexualities. Her fingers are nimble when they find your nipples, plucking at them softly in a way that has you breaking from her mouth to gasp. Your head turns and you take in the sight of Marc: his hard cock an impressive bulge in his pants, your panties in his mouth, his eyes heavy-lidded and burning hot. 
Then Layla’s hand slips down between your thighs and you nearly shout as two of her fingers swipe through your folds, finding your aching clit and smearing your own arousal against it. “Oh Marc,” says Layla, looking to him with a wide grin. “She is so, so wet.” 
Marc makes a pathetic little sound. This bit of weakness is like blood in the water to the shark inside Layla. She slips away from you again, holding up her soaked fingers for him to inspect in the dim lighting. Then she smears them across his parted lips, knowing that he will be unable to taste you with your panties in his mouth. Marc’s eyes roll back; he is the picture of tortured ecstasy. 
“Fuck, Layla,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together. “Come on, please…” 
She slaps Marc’s chest softly. “See what you made me do? I’m neglecting our girl.” 
You shiver at those words, at being called their girl. God, this is only meant to be a one-time thing, but you have known for so long that no time with Layla would ever be the last time. Flushed warm with her ownership, you drop down onto your knees and crawl to her, heart pounding at the way Marc groans at the sight. You sit on your heels and open your mouth, a silent invitation. 
Layla’s fingers stroke your face softly. “I have two little sluts…you want to suck my cock, baby?” 
“Uh-huh,” you breathe, mouth open. She rests two fingers on your tongue and you suck softly. 
“I’ll let you suck my dick—on one condition.” 
“Anything,” you mumble around her fingers. She removes them and takes your chin in her hand, your own saliva smearing across your cheek as she tilts your eyes up to her. 
“When you suck my cock, I want you to pretend it’s Marc’s.” 
Marc’s groan is mirrored by your own. Your eyes flicker to him, your face burning hot. His eyes are wide and dark, tracing over the plains of your face. Beneath the lust, you can almost see the question: would you do this? If you did agree to do this—why? Marc has no idea that feelings that have started to grow inside you the day that Layla introduced you both. 
You didn’t know that Layla had any idea either. But when your eyes flicker back up to her, you see the warmth in them, the silent assurance. She wants you to do this. Almost as badly as you do. 
Instead of turning away, you press out your tongue. The perfect place for her to rest the head of her fake cock. Your eyes flutter shut as you try to imagine it the way she says, to imagine that this is Marc’s cock you’re sucking. Instead of plastic, there would be warm, soft skin. Velvet overlaying steel. His smell would be all around you, that earthy shower gel he uses (and you use, sometimes, when you stay the night. Just to smell like him). 
Marc would feed his cock past your lips til the fat head nudges against the back of your mouth at the entrance of your throat, and still you would want more, swallowing your drool tilting your head to hopefully be able to take more of him into your mouth. Fingers twine into your hair, and it only enhances your fantasy when they guide you up and down their cock, using your mouth for their own pleasure. That is how Marc would be; you’re sure of it: confident, entitled, even as he is gentle. 
A choked sound catches your attention, jolting you from this little fantasy. Layla pulls your head back by your hair, and both of you turn to look at Marc whose head is thrown back, arms straining at his bonds. A growing stain at the tented crotch of his jeans…
“Oh my god, baby, did you just cum? Did you just fucking cum?” Layla asks, voice growing higher with barely restrained glee. Her thumb swipes over your swollen lips, but you can’t even turn to look at her, not when Marc’s face is red, his chest heaving, his cock still twitching in his pants as he just watched Layla fuck your mouth. 
Marc groans, writhing more. His demand is clear. He wants out.
Layla turns your head up so that you meet her eyes again. They are warm, pupils huge with arousal and the dim lighting. She grins, pretty mouth stretching wide with joy. 
“He wants me to set him free—but we’re not finished yet, are we love?” 
You shake your head. No, the night is just beginning—even for Marc. 
264 notes · View notes
Text
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Prompt:
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Pairing: OM!Brothers with GN!MC, may be read as platonic or romantic
Genre: Slight angst ig
TW: NA
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You walked into Purgatory Hall, which had been your home for the last few weeks, after making up with the brothers. Flopping onto the couch, you let out a deep breath. It was as if a weight was taken off your shoulders; a welcome change from what you felt before.
“MC, you’re home!”
You felt a weight on you, blonde tufts of hair revealing the person’s identity. You smiled, patting the head of the angel who become comfortable on you. “Hello Luke, where’s Simeon and Solomon?”
“We’re here,” came Simeon’s voice, and you registered the dipping of the couch near your head. Simeon ran his fingers through your hair, pulling a satisfied hum from you. Solomon took his seat at the chair opposite of the couch, looking at your form.
“How did it go?”
“It was fine. They surprised me, that’s for sure,” you answered, thinking back to how Belphegor had stood up for Lucifer. The sorcerer’s eyes softened at your clear happiness. “Well then, this calls for celebration. I’ll make my special Hellfire Mushroom Soup for dinner,” he said, getting up and walking towards the kitchen. A wave of dread passed over you and Luke, both scrambling from your comfortable positions to avoid having to sample another abomination the sorcerer would create. “Solomon wait!”
Simeon simply chuckled and shook his head, following you two to the kitchen.
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Your relationship with the Purgatory Hall Crew and Diavolo and Barbatos had always been good. They had been your support at one of your lowest moments, and you felt safe with them. Maybe that was why you now felt awkward talking to the brothers and making plans with them again. For the first few weeks, you tried to make enough time for everyone. But there are only 24 hours in a day, and only so much time you could spend with people. Not to mention, shifting to Purgatory Hall meant less time you could spend with the brothers, and often you found yourself gently refusing offers to hang out.
“Hey MC, I found this new cat cafe that recently opened. Want to come with me to check it out?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry Satan, Luke wanted to show me a new recipe he learned from Barbatos today. Maybe some other time?”
“Oi, MC! This new casino just opened up, ya comin’ with me?”
“Oh, Mammon, I actually promised Solomon I’d go looking for Infernal Fungi with him tonight… How about tomorrow?”
“MC, there’s a new kind of perfume that came in Majolish recently, could you come with me to try it?”
“Sorry Asmo… I’m going to buy tea with Barbatos. How about you buy it, and I’ll try it after? Does that sound good?”
No matter how much you tried, it seemed to the brothers that you no longer had time for them.
Lucifer
Expected it, but boy was his pride crushed.
He knew you weren’t purposefully avoiding him and his brothers, but it still hurt when you turned down his offers.
Realized that this was how you must have felt, and his pride plummeted another ten feet.
Doesn’t really say anything about it, but everyone can see that he is noticeably kinder towards you.
Mammon
Angry at you at first. How dare a puny human not make time for the Great Mammon?!
That anger fizzles out just as quickly as it came, and then he becomes paranoid.
Do you not want to spend time with him? Did he already blow his second chance? Are you disgusted with him?
It can lead to two situations: 1, he becomes even more clingy of you and insists on accompanying you everywhere or 2. he just leaves you alone, thinking that you hate him
Treasures anything that you’ve ever given him more than he already does, and stops going to casinos as much as he used to before.
Leviathan
Oh boi
Drowns in an ocean of self-deprecation and self-hatred.
Of course MC doesn’t want to hang out with him, after all he’s just a yucky otaku who never leaves his room-
Deep down he wonders if this was how you felt when they all sidelined you
Tries to keep his envy in check whenever he sees you with Solomon and the others
Satan
He expected it as well, and isn’t too bothered by it-
That’s what he wants to show, but anyone who knows Satan can clearly see how longingly he looks at you when you walk back to Purgatory Hall with Solomon
He wishes he could have more of your time and attention, but he also realizes that this situation is a consequence of his and his brothers’ actions
Tries to spend as much time with you as he can
Asmodeus
Acts as though he is not that affected you’re not spending time with him, but it’s just an act
Deep down he wonders if you still find him beautiful both inside and out, like you used to before
Mopes around Solomon a lot, so the latter suggests having a sleepover at Purgatory Hall
Ends up sleeping over at Purgatory Hall at least every weekend.
Beelzebub
Doesn’t really notice it at first, mostly because you ask him to tag along to stuff if you’re busy with something and he says yes
Isn’t really bothered by it, he knows they broke your trust and it will take a long time for you to ever feel truly comfortable around them again
Offers to share his time with you with his brothers, he knows they must be missing you as well
Belphegor
Wants all your time for himself, but then feels guilty for wanting your time
Doesn’t know how to react to this situation, so he reverts to what he knows: acting like a brat to get his way
But once he finds that that makes things worse he’ll subtly try to cut back on his bratty attitude
Expect him to hover awkwardly around you when you’re doing stuff, trying his best to stay awake so that he doesn’t miss a single moment spent with you
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vorecaptions · 2 months
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Metamorphosis part 1
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Aaron's father have been grumpy about his age, how his body was getting weaker and not doing as good as before. 
God, that was so fucking annoying having to hear him nagging all day long of how incredible he was at his best. I had no patience to hear anymore of that shit, so I proposed a really absurd idea, he could become one of the subjects of my PhD research on pred's genetics. My family bloodline had not a single predator gene in it so I started making papers to understand how a pred could become one or pass it to their offspring. My research showed that preds genes were highly volatile, making their bodies capable of the most absurd adaptations and, because of it, in need of humongous amount of nutrients to fuel it. Because of this insane genetic adaptability I pondered to be possible to introduce it via transplant of a few cells into a standard man and, in theory, the cells to be able to entangle the genetic structure from host and donor much alike some preds absorb their prey instead of digestion. To do a test however I need a subject willing to risk everything, even this days genetic engineering was a shot in the dark. His father didn't need to be told twice to agree head on.
-
The treatment was not so much complex as one would think. All he need to do was getting a sample of preds cells and inject them in the hosts body. Aaron explained that since the risk of unforeseen shenanigans was high they would need to pick an "expendable bit" of his body, one that wouldn't involve too much structural muscle skeletal changes. The locale has been obvious, they would need to use his penis. His dad was reluctant, but agreed saying he didn't use that "shriveled piece of meat in years". The preds cells were from a young donor, a teen yet to have his first feeding. This characteristic was crucial, everything a pred would feed he would also assimilate bits of his preys dna, making his own genetic makeup more unstable in long runs, making them feed more and more to stabilize it as they get older. A small prick on his dad meat and one in each of his small nuts was enough to finish the operation. Now was the waiting game. Two weeks past it, and constant checkups indicated a good integration on both the genetic makeups. Aaron noticed the skin of his dad cock wad getting darker, he recalled the donor was a black teen, perhaps it has influenced throughout the dna intermingle of host and donor cells. The tissues of the genital area did look more tender and firm, the testicles were more round and scans confirmed their changes, they soon demanded nourishment... The rate of development was way quicker than Aaron would've predicted, and it did scare him. He soon realized the quimeric cells made from his experiment would propagate to the rest of the host body. A month later and his dad had been different already, he had way less wrinkles and would talk about how his nuts were churning seminal fluid nonstop. This last bit was expected, the treatment made his cells unstable as a pred, albeit as much as an inexperienced one after his first meals. His father would need constant new genetic mass to surplus his own degrading dna. The problem however was obvious, his dad was not a pred, he did not have their innate biological capacity of swallowing or directly absorbing his preys. That came with yet another conundrum. How in the actual fuck would he solve this problem? Getting dna for him would become a problem, if he gave another genetic makeup it would desistabilize his matrix even more and larges quantities would be required. This situation Aaron resolved fairly easy, he would donor his own dna to his father, since he was made from his seed his genetic makeups were more similar than any. The first "meal" wad quite weird. Aaron could've had done it with any bit of himself, hair, skin, blood. He decided to make his donation with his seed as well, it made sense to him since the central point of the transformation his father had came directly from his genitals, the sperm cells would be much easier recognized.
With a syringe without needle filled with his cum, he inserted in the urethra of his dad eager cock. The thing was hard as steel and Aaron could just see the slit gaping as if it was trying swallow the upper point of the syringe. Slowly he injected the stuff down the schlong, it really looked like gulping its contents, he could see the small bulge following the underside of his dad dick all to the base.
-please son, it was so fucking good, don't more...
His dad looked like a dumb gooner during a edge session, his face in ectasy and his tongue out like a fucking perv.
His administration of dna did wonders to his dad. He looked way livier and showed improved health on his exams. It did however show something unexpected. His father celular degradation slowed down considerably, but by just one exposition to new dna shouldn't have this effect. Only about weeks later would he actually discover what was happening.
By accident would Aaron have checked one of the ip cams he had on his home, the thing malfunction made him have to reinstall the necessary apps for it to work. Curiosity called him to check how weird he'd sound while snoring, that's when he witnessed something that would change everything about his experiment.
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His father entered the room while Aaron was passed out snoring. Gently his old man unfurled him from his blankets. His dad would often stay still, frozen when he moved a bit, he was trying really hard to not wake him. When he saw it was safe enough he slowly put his hand inside his sons boxers and took the soft penis out. He took his time looking at the meat. Weighing it in his large hand before he would take his own schlong from his underwear. Through the cam Aaron was astonished about what was happening but the next thing was way off the scale. His dad dick was fattening, engorging as it got hard. It didn't look full hard though, as if a half mast, still flexible. Dad studied his own dick for a bit before he got closer to Aaron. He proceeded to rub his fat gland against his son soft cockhead. It was then that he bit his own hand, like trying to block any sound coming from his mouth and leaning a bit to the side that Aaron could see what he was doing. The fat cock was even more fat, thick, because it was engulfing his own, it was like a snake swallowing another! It was way beyond mere docking with their foreskin, his dick was being devoured by his dad own schlong! God, it was so absurd, and he could even see the thing making sucking, slurping motions as if trying to get more of his meat. Aaron did not know what was happening, but he could see it was affecting his dad, his face strained, eyes closed and his mouth still locked bitting his hand. Few minutes later he saw his cock, now hard, getting even harder against the other engulfing it, his balls retracted and he ejaculated. A soft moan was heard, his dad couldn't control it anymore, the seed his son spurt was injected directly into him through his urethra, his cock was slurping all the contents his balls churned that night, his own testicles were so hungry and he needed something to fill their emptiness.
His dad would not leave until every spurt was drained by his cock, until his victim deflated and dislodged from his pisslit. He would massage his balls and put a face as if tasting something delicious.
Aaron was beyond shocked, but confused as well. He was a heavy sleeper but not enough to have his meat raped and not waking up. Reviewing the records he realized his dad had been doing it for a week.
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neighborlystudios · 5 months
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DEVOTION OF THE HIGHEST DEGREE [sample]
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Notes: Peepaw possesed me and forced me to write this, he has taken over my one braincell, 18+ ONLY minors go away. I am writing a full fic where this is a part in it! I just wanted to write this concept so badly I couldn't wait!
Mathew Lillard!William Afton x reader
Tws: Blood, murder, age gap implied, power dynamic
What summary I literally don't know what to say to this just read it
Blood dripped down your hand as you gripped the knife, pool of red formed on the black and white tiles as you stared at the body. You were only defending yourself, so why did you keep stabbing after the man was dead? Eyes wide, heartbeat fast, your adrenaline was slowly starting to wear off, allowing you to come to terms with what you did.
"Look at the mess you made, Bun" William's voice was teasing, yet comforting as you let go of the knife, dropping it into the blood below. Taking a few steps back in shock, you bumped into William's chest. His arms wrapped around your body as you started to sob, realizing what you did even though that man was going to hurt you in ways you never wanted him to. Afton shushed you and led you away from the scene, ensuring that he would clean up the mess.
You don't want to think about how calm he is, that's for another day, today though is focusing on how you would get out of this mess. But you couldn't stop thinking about how good it felt, how good to take that man's life, he was going to do things to you and prevented that, that was nobel, was it not? Self defense.
You felt numb as your boss sat you down on a chair, feeling numb as he slid off the uniform and wiped the blood off of you. You let him change you into his own clothes he had spares off and then carry you to his office. He set you down on the small loveseat and ran to grab you water. You were shivering, you weren't cold.
He came back and urged you to drink. Noticing your shaking, he draped a blanket over you and sat down next to you, petting your hair and assuring that you wouldn't go to jail. He was still too calm.
Then, it hit you.
"You killed those five kids, right?"
He chuckled, saying that it was about time you noticed. He was a psychopath, your boss, the owner and creator, killed those kids. But where did he put the bodies?
"In the suits, the animatronics" He answered it for you and proudly so.
You felt surprised, yet, you didn't feel disgusting. In fact, it almost felt comforting in a way, like you got him. Felt so powerful, ripping away another life. Why? Why was it so satisfying?
"What do we do now?" He looked at your doe eyes, filled with worry and closed the gap, leaning on your forehead and holding your neck.
"We can go to the police and you would most likely be placed in jail from all the stabbing after death. Or..." he wraps his fingers around yours, bringing his lips closer to yours. "We go about this together, our little secret" he whispered, shivers were sent down your spine. You decided.
Kissing his lips, you pulled away, not denying the feelings festered in your soul any longer for this man. You always had a crush on him, but too scared to advance due to the age gap, but he was giving you a choice. You knew you made the right one. You were scared, he makes you feel safe.
"Good choice"
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