#Dick late one night 10 years later: “wait a minute....”

[batman-katflap]

10 year old Dick: "Okay, the cake's ready! Try some and lemme know how it is!"

Clark, taking a bite: "Wow! And here I thought Bruce was the best baker in the family. I have an idea, why don't you go grab Alfred so he can come have a little taste and see how good you're getting."

Dick, already running out the room: "Okay! Try not to eat it all before I get him, Clark!"

Clark: "I'll try, but it's gonna be hard!"

Bruce, the moment Dick's out of ear shot: "How inedible is it this time?"

Clark, already shovelling down mouthfuls of cake: "Oh, you'd all be dead for sure."

[bigification]

Corporate

John had coasted through his twenties like he thought everyone did. He got a quick degree in business and spent the next ten years traveling, partying, and fucking... A lot. His parents let him do whatever he wanted as long as he got a degree, they didn't say anything about using the degree.

He excused his behavior because every other rich white guy he partied with was doing the same thing. He had never even had an extended conversation with someone outside of the 1 percent, and it showed.

Hey, I mean at least he was really good at the one thing he did. To the point that he wouldn't remember most nights, only waking up with women's clothes in his bed. He would start swinging his massive dick around as soon as he got drunk and it wouldn't take long for someone to drag him to bed.

But it couldn't last forever. 30 came faster than he thought and it hit him like a truck. He couldn't drink like he used to, he couldn't party as hard as wanted to. His hairline was starting to recede and his six pack was disappearing under what would soon be a small beer belly. There were starting to be consequences for his actions. And as if it couldn't get any worse for poor John, his parents let him know what his birthday present was for this year. Every year prior had been something extravagant like a yacht or a sports car, so he was really looking forward to the big gift to make 30 not seem so bad.

Two weeks before his birthday, John received a text saying that his parents would take away his generous allowance if he didn't get a job by the time he was 30. His heart skipped a beat, he thought it was some big joke. He thought back to the times his parents had asked him to get a job before but he never thought they were serious. Though they did ask a lot now that he's thinking of it, and they didn't sound like they were joking.

John texted back, "haha, but seriously what is it?" Hoping they would back off and he could go back to being the old guy at all the yacht parties he threw. But they put their put down this time, threatening his 200k a month allowance and his present he was expecting for his birthday.

One week of the adult equivalent of kicking and screaming later, John gives in. Now he only has one week before it starts to cut into his allowance. He scrambled to make a shitty resume, assuming a business degree would get him any job he wanted.

He nervously clicked on a link his dad sent him to a company that works under his father's business. He submitted his resume and waited. It didn't take long for him to get a response and John patted himself on the back for making such a good resume. Although they obviously never even opened the resume, just going off of his father's recommendation.

He set up an interview for just before his birthday, and continued to party like he was still 20. He woke up the day of the interview, hungover and still wearing his disgusting clothes from the night before. He was nearly falling asleep at the wheel as he hadn't woken up before noon in ages, 10 am was such a ridiculous time to set an interview.

He stumbled into the expensive looking building and stood in front of reception.

"How can I help you?" The young lady behind the counter asked.

"Ugh... Yeah I could think of a few ways you could help me." John winked and gave a lazy smile.

"Sir, if you don't have any business here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." The lady raised her voice, trying to hide her discomfort.

"Whatever, I'm here for an interview."

"What's your name?"

"John Fitzgerald."

The lady looked up for a moment, recognizing the name. She shook her head in disappointment as she grabbed the phone to call that he had arrived... only thirty minutes late.

A few moments later, an older man in a tailored suit approached the front desk. He walked right past John and asked the receptionist to point him in the direction of John. The lady looked over at John and raised her eyebrows to suggest he was right there. The older man turned and put on a fake smile to hide his disapproval.

"Follow me." The man put on a cheap up beat voice.

The man walked him down to a private office and opened a closet. He grabbed a dress shirt and black dress pants and basically shoved into John's chest.

"No man that respects himself wears those clothes to an interview, put these on." He let his anger slip through a bit.

"Wait really!?" John seemed perplexed. He thought he would answer a few questions about what he liked to do and that would be it.

"Yes, go on."

John sheepishly took off his shirt, revealing the small belly that had grown over his abs. It even bounced a bit as he pulled off his shirt. He then pulled down his pants to reveal his batman boxers that did nothing hide the massive bulge between his legs.

He slipped on the dress shirt, letting it spill to his knees like a dress. Then he pulled up the dress pants and held them at his waist. They were nearly 10 inches too long around the waist, and 5 inches too short, making them ride up his calves.

"They're too big!" John complained.

The man scoffed and grabbed a belt from the closet. Though the belt was also too big, leaving John still holding up the pants.

"They're still too big!" John whined.

"Oh just shut up. How long is this supposed to take." The old man looked impatiently at his watch.

"How long is wha-" John began to ask before pausing briefly, followed by a loud burp that seemed to make the room tremble.

John tried to talk but couldn't. He felt slow and groggy, more than he had before. The only noises he could muster were grunts as a warm feeling filled his stomach. Suddenly his hips thrusted forward and he let out a grunt. John looked down in horror as a sizable beer belly was now hiding under his oversized shirt. His hips thrusted again and his belly had doubled in size, making him look pregnant. One more thrust and a loud grunt and his fat gut doubled in size once more. It bounced up and down as it filled all the room in his massive shirt, finally drooping over his waistband.

John wanted to scream, but he couldn't. The only noises that came from his mouth were moans and grunts that sounded more and more sexual the more his body changed.

His sides soon followed, growing thick love handles that widened his once skinny frame, even spreading to his lower back. His chest puffed forward as his pecs disappeared under a thick layer of fat. His soft man tits finally rested on his gut, pushing up against his shirt and making them impossible to miss.

John looked up in desperation at the older man that stood before him, but he was just staring at his watch. Though he noticed something strange. He was looking up at the man, when he could have sworn that he looked down on him when he first met him. He took pride in his height, so he would have remembered being shorter than him.

This time his body thrusted backwards, making him nearly fall with his new center of gravity. With each thrust he felt the pants get tighter and tighter until his cheeks filled out all of the room in those size 42 pants. At least he didn't have to hold them up anymore. His thighs then thickened into fat tree trunks, permanently rubbing together and squishing his dick in between. Though that last part wouldn't last long, while his ever growing fat pad swallowed inches of his dick, it began to shrink as well. He felt it recede into his soft fat pad, now only having the tip peaking out of his fat. He stuffed his hand between his meaty thighs to try and find it but it wasn't there.

John then felt pressure building up around his feet until a loud POP rang through the office. He looked down to see what happened but it was blocked by his massive gut. Though the feeling of his bare feet on the ground suggested that his feet burst out of his shoes.

His arms began to twitch fat filled them like sausages, making them drop under their own weight. His hands also doubled in size as his fingers started to look thickened. He wanted to react, but it was starting to get hard to remember what he was texting to. All he could think about was finance.

Finally his face began to change. His young and spy look got covered in soft fat and wrinkles, aging him up at least 10 years. His hairline receded as thick sideburns covered his nonexistent jawline and his stubble formed a prominent mustache and goatee combo.

John let out a loud burp as his stomach grumbled. He grunted a few more times as he desperately tried to reach his crotch, but he was unsuccessful. He noticed his boss in front of him and tilted his head back to make eye contact with the man that is now much taller than him.

"What are we doing in your office boss?" John asked.

"Oh, you just had a wardrobe malfunction that's all." The boss said as he passed John a pair of shoes and a tie. "It's on the house since you've been such a good employee the last 10 years. I certainly don't mind getting you bigger clothes when you outgrow your current ones."

John panted and grunted trying to get his shoes on, he wasn't used to the extra padding all over his body. Despite that, he knows that he has been quite fat for many years now as memories of the last 10 years of his life flood in.

"Can't forget the wedding ring." The boss said as he slipped a nice ring into John's hand. "I just love that husband of yours, he is such a great cook. No wonder you gained so much weight after your marriage. It's almost like he got you pregnant." The boss chuckled.

John's face went blank as the memories of him coming out in his thirties and marrying the man that he loves. And he remembers the positive pregnancy test he had just before his 40th birthday.

"Oh my god, you are pregnant!" The boss shouted then covered his mouth. "Your secret's safe with me. Oh and also, I'll order some massive clothes for ya so you won't have to worry about it big guy." The boss said quietly as John left his office.

[ratlikeclown]

WIP Wolverine x femReader 18+

“God, do you ever suck on anything other than Wade’s dick and cheap cigars?”

He leaned in close to your ear and growled,

“Ya lookin to find out Princess?”

x Deadpool kinda eventually lmfaoooo

FemY/n is mid 20’s - early 30’s

Tw for depression and like drug use mentions ig

🌶️🫵

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello 👋 This is the first fanfic that I have written in over 10 years the brain rot is so unbelievably real for wolverine and deadpool rn

its a little embarrassing tbh lmfaoo

—————————

I’m not really sure how to tag this tbh. I’ve never posted on tumblr. . It’s a little spicy and will get more interesting later. I just wanted to toss this small part out for readers to test the waters. Anyway um I’m not experienced writing y/n pov so please be nice.

Your friend, Wade Wilson, couldn’t take no for an answer. You knew that and yet you still had the audacity to tell him ‘no’ three times tonight. And about thirty minutes after you ignored his last phone call there he was, practically knocking down your door. It wasn’t like he couldn’t actually kick in your door, he was just being polite. 

The apartment buzzer went off. You sat up from your position on the couch, hoping he’d just give up and leave if you didn’t acknowledge him. Like a stray cat. Or a crackhead.

“Knock knock~” you heard his voice through the door. “I smell Hot Pockets and sadness I know you’re in there”

Gripping the arm of the sofa you waited hoping he’d have the common courtesy fuck off .You heard the door knob rattle. Dumbass.

With a click of the lock, your door swung open revealing Wade, grinning as he shoved his Baby Knife back into his coat.

“Wade, what the fuck? I told you-“

He clapped his hands loudly, interrupting you.

 “Let’s go Funshine Bear, the nights young and I’m not going anywhere without you” Wade marched past you, straight to your bedroom humming to himself.

“You look awful by the way, we’ll fix you up though.” He clicked his tongue and crooked a finger in your direction. You huffed angrily, sliding off the couch to follow him. 

You stopped in the doorway, almost refusing to step inside. He was elbows deep in your closet drawers, throwing clothes onto your bed, muttering his disapproval at every item he tossed.

You crossed your arms as you watched him. 

“Do you have anything that doesn’t look like you took it from the Walmart dumpster?” He pulled a drawer out from the dresser and dumped it on the floor. “You know the one I’m talking about, right? Where all the coke addicted bronies go to have a bone sess before band practice.”

You crossed your arms as you watched him. “Wade, I’m not in the mood to go out.”

You heard him sigh, but continued to riffle through your things. 

“That’s nonsense, the plot can’t continue with out you. Annnd we made these plans last week.”

He peeked at you from behind the open closet door. “I’m a little worried about you. You aren’t your chipper self lately”

“I’m just tired” You replied dismissively.

It wasn’t like Wade hasn’t been trying to cheer you up in his own way. For the last few weeks he’d text you obscure and quite frankly disturbing memes at 3 AM. Excitedly offer you drugs that he’s pilfered from the his blind roommate- (he knows you don’t do drugs, he just wanted to brag about stealing coke from Blind Al)

He’s also been sending you the strangest X-Men fan fiction. (His favorites were ‘old man yaoi’ including Professor Xavier and Magneto) Usually you eat that kind of stuff up, finding it funny that you knew some of the people that the fanfiction was written about, like a private joke between you and Deadpool. But worst thing he’s done has beencalling you almost every day and attempting to make plans with you, but you always seem to cancel last minute. So yeah, he has been trying. It just.. didn’t help.

Your eyes flickered to your wall of photos next to the closet door.  Pictures of your closest friends and family. Their arms around you laughing, smiling. Pictures of trips and silly outings that meant the world to you. You felt so much guilt and regret looking at them.

Depression was a bitch. It was like a rabid dog that wouldn’t let you get back on your feet. You felt it gnawing at you, causing you to lose interest in everyone and everything. You felt alone. Your eyes fell back to Wade, you watched your friend hard at work trying to match your shoes with a dress he had found. He was clueless. You couldn’t tell him any of this though, it would just make him worry more.

There was someone you did want to talk to though. To tell everything to. Someone that you had grown so close to the last few months.

You missed Logan.

This realization caused your face to heat and anxiety weld up in your chest. You balled your hands into fits thinking about that arrogant jerk. You’ve tried to be a friend to Wolverine. After all this wasn’t his reality. He was your timeline’s replacement. (Idk you should go watch the movie. I’m not explaining it.) and for a while, you thought you were friends.

Lately, if he wasn’t drunk and depressingly moody, he was angry and a massive dick. 

“Y/N? Look a little pink at the cheeks are you feeling OK?” Wade was now standing less than a foot from you, his brows furrowed. You hadn’t noticed him move.

Snapping back from your thoughts by Wades voice, you ran hands over your face as you turn towards the attached bathroom.

“Dude, I told you I’m just not feeling good-” You stepped into the bathroom and turned on the faucet “I don’t wanna hang out with-“

“Logan?”

“Your friends.” You finished. You felt your face flush deeper at his name being mentioned.

“That’s what I said” Wade followed you to the bathroom, but thankfully didn’t come in. He stood outside while you closed the door. 

“Trust me honey, I know he’s the embodiment of a sentient happiness starved cactus whose father never loved him but-“

You groaned, trying to avoid Wades ramblings you turned the water on full blast, drowning out the remainder of his sentence. You splashed water on your face and ran a comb through your hair. You heard Wade continue talking, almost to himself while also sounding like he was talking to someone else in the room  as well. Someone you couldn’t see. He did that often. It was creepy.

You swung the door open frowning.

“-sometimes he stabs me through the face to shut me up, but I know he does it because he’s not good with words.”

Wade smile faded when he saw your face. 

“It’s kinda hot”

“I don’t want to talk about it Wade.” You sat down onto your bed with a huff despite the pile of clothes and plastic hangers. You stared at your hands. You felt the overwhelming weight of your anxiety in your chest and stomach. Maybe you should go out. Maybe he won’t show up tonight. Maybe-

“You look like you wanna talk about it Friendo.”

Wade joined you by dramatically pushing all the clothes off the bed, making an even bigger mess of your room. He flopped down onto your bed stomach first, propping himself up by his elbows. He kicked his feet and smiled at you.

“I’m all ears.”

“I don’t know how to start” You admitted.

“Start with an ‘I feel’ statement” 

Another sigh escaped your mouth. How did you feel? It felt complicated. You met him a few months ago. At first he was rude and closed off. Then he slowly began to open up, sure you still bickered and fought like cats, but it had playful undertones. (‘Sexy undertones’ Wade had joked) When he was being genuine and open, it felt like you could talk to him for hours. Though he never spoke for too long, he would to listen to you earnestly. Up until a few weeks ago, that is.

“I feel like Logan hates me. I feel like he would rather huff paint thinner than have a decent conversation with me.”

Wade laughed. “Well that’s not true, I can’t get him to huff anything.”

You shot him a look.

“Listen, I invite Mr. Grumpy out every time. But he’s too busy sulking to get fucked up with us. He would rather get drunk and pass out in the floor of the apartment. He probably won’t even show up.” Wade gave you a reassuring look.

“If he does you’re gonna be there with me. We’ll leave if you feel uncomfortable at all.”

He rolled over and sat up, putting an arm around you.

“I’ve just noticed your mood lately I need you to know that I love you.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze.  “-and I miss getting fucked up with you.”

“Will you stab him for me if he’s mean?”

“Of course. I always have Baby Knife on me.”

“Fine. Let me get ready”

He jumped off the bed excitedly.

You pushed Wade out the door to get dressed, pausing in the doorway. “Wade?”

“Yes Friendo?” He turned on his heel

“I love you too bud”

He squealed as you closed the door.

~~~

You never understood why Wade wouldn’t just buy a car. He makes decent money (he doesn’t) and could probably afford a nice one. (He couldn’t) At one point you recall him having a weird hyperfixation with the Honda Odyssey (he fucked Wolverine in one) (allegedly)

Instead, you were climbing into the back of a dirty beat up taxi cab that his friend, Dopinder, drove for a living. At least you didn’t have to walk. Dopinder was a sweet guy, if not a little unhinged every once in a while. 

“You look quite beautiful tonight Miss Y/N” He complimented you as you settled in the back seat. You smiled at him, appreciating the comment. Wade had picked out your dress and you felt a little exposed and out of your element in it. It wasn’t anything crazy, just a slick black dress with a low neck line. The dress was short, ending a little above the knee. The problem was the slit up the side. You wanted to wear tights under the outfit but Wade insisted on fishnets. ‘You look like a goth baddie’  he had assured you, ‘Like a Hot Topic clearance rack version of Morticia Addams.’

Wade hopped in the front and immediately started to flip through the radio channels. Dopinder usually had on pleasant sounding Indian pop music but Wade settled on some heavily censored 90’s hip hop. 

The drive was rocky. Wade, who almost never kept his hands to himself, would grab poor  Dopinder while dancing along to the music causing the cab to swerve. A lot.

Having made it to the bar in one piece, you quickly scrambled out of the back, thanking the young man for the ride. 

Wade waited for you at the door.

~~~

The bar was loud and dark. One of those typical bars you see in movies, filled with moving bodies and cigarette smoke. Music pumped through the speakers with some people lingering near the bar while others swayed on the dance floor. Wade bounced through the crowd pulling you along towards the bar, where his group of friends took up half the bar area. You scanned the crowd nervously. No Logan. Your muscles relaxed, and you moved with a little more energy.

Wade greeted his friends with various enthusiastic greetings and crude gestures. You smiled in greeting and waved at a friend you recognized but sat down on a stool next to where Wade stood, him blocking you from most of the other bar patrons. There was a part of you that was a little disappointed that Logan wasn’t here. It made sense if he didn’t show up here, this bar was honestly more like a club, upbeat and energetic. He’s used to dark depressing dive bars, places you can drink yourself into a coma and not be bothered. But the few times he had shown up here you had thought that he enjoyed your company, for a little while at least. During times when the others were off doing dubious shit somewhere, he’d sit with you at the bar. You even managed to get him to dance with you once. That all changed recently. Something happened that caused him to be distant and often rude for seemingly no reason.

Everyone seems to be so happy to see Wade and he, them. You didn’t really know why you were here. It already felt overwhelming. You used to love coming here. Drinking and dancing, playing pool badly and belting out shitty country music karaoke with everyone. Lately, things have felt different. You’ve lost interest in a lot of the things you use to enjoy, spending your days just working and rotting in your apartment. This was too much.

Wade touched your shoulder causing you to jump.

“Hey we’re off to play some darts you in?” 

You smiled at your friend. “You really wouldn’t want me to play, you’d end up as the dart board.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time Sweetheart” Wade laughed, “we’ll be over there if you change your mind.” He made a heart with his hands and turned toward the group already making their way to the play area.

You sat quietly at the counter with a glass of something sweet and strong. You wanted to feel a buzz but you needed it to taste good. Your eyes scanned the crowd, people watching. You watched people dance and sway to the newest Kesha song blaring through the speakers. You witnessed a near fight over a pool game. You heard Wade’s laughter from across the room, his friends echoing along. You felt alone. It was your fault you told yourself. If you wanted to feel better you would’ve gotten up and joined your friends. But here you sat, being miserable on purpose. 

“Hey beautiful, mind if I joined you?” Your head snapped up meeting the face of someone you didn’t recognize. He was good looking, in a vanilla frat boy kinda way. With his backwards hat, sleeveless tank, skinny jeans and all.

But he smiled like a wolf.

“I’m sorry.” You tried to smile politely, but you had a twinge of anxiety growing in your chest. “I’m not really in the mood for company” 

The man smiled motioning to the bartender for a drink. “Can’t I just buy you a drink? “

“Really, I’m fine” You turned back to your drink, your eyes unfocused, hoping that if you just ignored him he’d leave. Your gut flipped when you heard him pull out the stool next to you. He wasn’t leaving.

“Come on babe, I can show you a good time”

“She said she ain’t looking for company bub.” A low voice growled behind you. A beer bottle came down heavily in between you and the creep. Your eyes trailed the hairy but beautifully sculpted arm to its owner, though you already knew who it belonged to. Logan. Even in this lighting you could see his rugged face. His hair was styled in its iconic cat ear shape. His beard was trimmed nicely combined with his thick muttonchops. His eyes were a little hazy but beautiful and dark. You met those eyes for a brief moment, he smirked at you before his gaze flickered to the other man.

 “Well?” He rumbled, barring his teeth.

“Naw, I was here first grandpa, you fuck off.” The frat guy stood up straight, trying to look intimidating.

“Trust me” Logan chuckled. He straightened cracking his knuckles before raising his fists and extending three razor sharp Adamantium claws from each hand.

“You don’t want none of this”

~~~

“You didn’t have to do that” you looked down at your glass avoiding Logan’s gaze. You heard him land heavily in the bar stool next to you. He tapped the counter signaling the bartender who was very clearly avoiding your side of the bar.

“I wasn’t going to have some limp dick creeping on you.”

“I was handling it” 

“You didn’t seem like you were handling anything Princess.” He scoffed.

You shot him a look. He smirked as he chugged his remaining beer, you couldn’t help watch his throat bob as he drank. He finished and loudly set the bottle down. He met your eyes and you looked away feeling your face heat violently.

“You thirsty princess?” He asked as the bartender set down two shots of something before scurrying away. He slid one glass your way.

“No thank you. I have my own drink”

You pushed the glass back his way. He eyed your almost empty cocktail and shrugged.

“Suit yourself” he took the glasses and knocked back both shots simultaneously slamming the glasses back down. After a few moments of silence, where you clearly felt Logan eyeing you the entire time, you sighed.

“I didn’t think I’d see you tonight Logan.” You admitted. Another beer had appeared in front of him, he took a swig. He eyed you, his eyes slowly trailing from your face down your body. They rested at the slit in your dress, exposing most of your fishnet covered thigh. You felt a ping in your lower belly, causing you to cross your legs uncomfortably. His eyes followed to movement. He licked his lips and met your eyes again smirking.

“Why didja miss me?”

You looked down at the growing piles of shredded napkins you had been anxiously ripping apart. 

“Yes” you said at last. There was no point in lying. You did miss him. Even seeing him now, clearly drinking away his problems, you couldn’t help but feel glad he was there with you. You were glad he scared away that creep, despite his now passive aggressive demeanor. You met his eyes again.

He snorted and tipped the beer to his lips.“You’re a fucking liar”

You felt your gut squeeze with anger. Why was he treating you this way? You didn’t ask him to step in to a play hero. You didn’t ask him for anything. You just wanted to get out of your shitty apartment for one goddamn night. You balled your fists and spun to face him fully.

“What. The. Fuck.” You clenched your teeth annunciating each word bitterly. “Is. YOUR PROBLEM”

“My PROBLEM,” he practically spat the word,

”is that I have to deal with your moody ass attracting the eye of every fucking creep in this place when you very fucking clearly don’t want to be here.” 

You threw your hands up angrily and gestured around the bar. 

“I didn’t want to deal with any of this Logan. I just wanted to go out with my FRIENDS, which I used to think you were one. I don’t fucking know what prick you had up your ass lately, but you sure as hell don’t act like you like me. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”

He was silent for a moment, studying your face, making it turn even redder. Then he laughed. He shook his head laughing and sloppily chugged his second beer.

You had enough. You needed to get away from him. You shoved yourself back, tipping the stool over in the process.

“Come find me when you figure out what you want.” You turned to leave. You made it a few steps before you heard Logan’s voice call mockingly.

“Nice dress by the way” 

You didn’t turn to look at him.

“Fuck you, Logan”

~~~

You ran your hands under cold water, leaning over the sink you splashed the water into your face and sighed. You looked into your mirrored face. This was a disaster.

Maybe if you just stayed in the bathroom you can avoid everyone until Wade was ready to leave. You felt bad that you ran off instead of finding him. You would’ve felt safe with Wade.

Your head was swimming, from the alcohol or the interaction with Logan you couldn’t tell.

The speaker above you crackled playing the opening notes to ‘Dirty Diana’, a favorite of yours. A banger Wade would say.

Without warning the door sung open and Logan stumbled in. 

“You’re in the wrong bathroom you drunk asshole” you snapped. His eyes met yours from a brief moment before he swayed slightly and took a step forward.

He pushed past you wordlessly and began kicking open the bathroom stalls. They were all empty. 

“Dude get out” You gripped the sink behind you, watching Logan warily. You knew deep down he wouldn’t hurt you but you obviously didn’t want him in here with you. He turned to you, taking a step forward.

”I needed to talk to you”

“Yeah, you could have waited til I got out of the ladies room??” 

“No.” he growled before in one swift movement he was in front of you, his arms on either side of the sink trapping you between them. Your breath came out in a shudder and your knees wobbled. This honestly was a thing out of a fantasy, something that you were embarrassed to admit you’ve thought about. You had been fighting your feelings for this big stupid man, stuck between thoughts of friendship and lust. God, he wasn’t helping with the latter.

“Logan”

“I’m sorry” he said looking as remorseful as he could under the circumstances.

“What did you need to talk about that couldn’t wait Lo?” You swallowed, gently lifting your hand and placing it on his chest, pushing lightly. His hands moved to your legs keeping you from pushing him further.

“Ya told me to find you when I figured out what I wanted”

“Yeah” You scoffed. “Enlighten me”

~~~

“I want you”

Logan leaned over you, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. His fingers dug in lightly, the movement making your legs feel like jelly. You gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. He was so firm and warm under your hands.

His face was inches from yours, his expression unreadable in the low lighting. You smelled the smoke and alcohol on his breath.

“God, do you ever suck on anything other than Wade’s dick and cheap cigars?”

He leaned in close to your ear and growled, 

“Ya looking to find out princess?”

You felt a ping of desire sink into your lower belly as his hand moved from your waist.

Shivers went down your spine as his hands slid up your torso coming to a stop right below your breasts. One of his thumbs brushed upwards lightly, teasingly.

You sucked in a breath as he lowered his face to your neck and brushed a kiss to the sensitive skin. His facial hair tickling your jaw.

“Logan, you’re drunk.” You croaked out, pulling away slightly, your hands sliding from his shoulders. He moved with you.

You felt his lips brush your skin again, another kiss, before his thumb slid upward against your breast. Fuck. The wet heat between your legs was unbearable. You needed some sort of friction. You definitely noticed the pressure from his pants pressed against your stomach. So close, you just needed anything. You bucked your hips against his, almost involuntarily, causing a rumble to escape his throat. His thumb stroked again.

“That’s a good girl” His head bobbed lower dragging his tongue down as he kissed your neck. You could feel him smile as he sucked the skin of your collar bone in a way that would definitely leave a mark. Holy Hell. What was happening.

You were sick of your neck getting all the attention as you reached up to take his face in your hand. He practically melted at your touch, his breath hitching as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. You wanted him, needed his mouth on yours. You pulled his face up, a little roughly, to meet your gaze. You thought you heard him let out a little surprised chuckle from the movement. His eyes were half lidded as he met yours. He was drunk, and you realized, so were you. You leaned in, your lips feather light against his-

You jumped at Wade’s voice from the other side of the door, calling for you.

Shit. You dropped your hand away from his face.

Logan growled, low and angry. He abruptly took his hot hands from your body and leaned his head to your ear, you felt his lips against your skin.

“Some other time then, darlin’.” He pulled away from you swaying slightly, before grabbing his beer from the counter and yanking open the bathroom door.

~~~

Anyway, thanks for reading. I guess I don’t know if this is any good and I will be posting the rest on Ao3 eventually

[nctsworld]

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k 

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection  GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff  WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap! 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.    

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.  

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.  

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.  

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:  

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”  

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.  

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.  

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.  

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?  

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...  

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.  

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.  

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.  

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.  

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.  

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.  

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”  

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.  

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...  

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.  

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.  

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”  

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.  

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.  

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.  

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.    

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.  

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone  off to one side.  

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?  

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.  

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.  

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.  

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.  

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.  

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.  

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.  

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.” 

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.  

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.  

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.  

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?��

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.  

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.    

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.  

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.  

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.  

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.  

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.    

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.  

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.  

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.  

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.  

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.  

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.    

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.  

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.  

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.  

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.  

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.  

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.  

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.  

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.  

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.  

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.  

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly. 

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.  

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.  

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—  

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.  

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.  

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.  

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.  

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.  

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”    

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.  

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

[darkmulti]

I see your request is open for hc yay!

Can i request A!JKxO!Reader where jK has a huge dick and reader is a virgin and also his mate. So JK marries her and forcefully deflowered her and forcing orgasms out of her (bleeding/blood play while deflowering her is up to you). She found out JK’s obsessions of forcing orgasms out of hers until she passed out every night. JK also has a breeding and breastfeeding kink so he wanna knock her up just so he can breastfeed on her. He locked her up, all the time he spends with her is used to breed her while forcing as many orgasms out of her. Ok thats too long of an ask, sorry.. 🥺 thanks! 💜

-> I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH SHAUSHSHS

⚠️: NON CON, mention of blood, breeding kink, breast feeding kink, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia kink, angst, death, murder, slapping, somnophilia kink, rough sex

Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!Virgin!reader

-> sorry for any mistakes

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your breed and Jungkook’s breed are not on good terms

The reason why is because your breed have better senses and are a lot stronger

Jungkook’s breed is the second strongest and let me tell you, they don’t like second place

Since they outdo your breed in numbers, they travel around in large packs and kill wolves your kind

If they eliminate all of you, they’ll be on top

Your parents raised you to stay away from them

They’re just trying to keep you safe because you’re their only child

They allowed you to explore the forest, but you couldn’t go too far

They still needed to be able to smell you out

You’re parents also told you howl if you felt like you were in danger

And you can only explore during the day time

Once it’s night, you must stay close to your parents so they can protect you

One day, you were sitting close to edge of a cliff

This was your favourite spot because it gave the perfect view of the sun setting

10 minutes later, you decided to go back to your pack only to be horrified by the scene

Your pack… everyone was dead

Blood everywhere

Bite marks all over their body

You walked into the crime scene more and saw your parents dead on the ground, next to each other

You immediately burst out into tears, not believing what you’re seeing

“Mom! Mom, please! Wake up!” You nudged her but it was too late

You sat down in between your parents and grieved the whole night

Why couldn’t they kill you too?

You were about to close your eyes but, caught an unfamiliar scent

Your natural instincts kicked in and you got up

You started looking around but that’s when something attacked you from behind

You fall to the ground and knock out after they give you one hard blow to the head

The next morning, you woke up in a bed

You frantically looked around, trying to put the pieces together, but that’s when he popped out of no where

His scent didn’t fail to reach you and once you inhaled it, you remembered all the traumatizing events of last night

Your heart rate increased and you immediately started to panic

“Where’s my mom?! Where am I?! Take me home!”

You started to freak out

“My mom told me to stay away from monsters like you! Leave me alone!”

You let out a piercing howl and made a run for it

However, Jungkook was faster and much, much stronger

He got a hold of your wrist and dragged you back to the room

He quickly pulled out his phone and shoved it in your face

You were squirming around at first but once you heard a familiar cry, you stopped

Jungkook was showing you live footage of wolves your breed, tied up god knows where and howling for help

Your heart crumbled into a million pieces

“W-why are you doing this to us?” You choked on your sobs while watching your breed beg for mercy

“Marry me, and I’ll let them go.”

You looked at him, appalled

“Marry? I won’t marry you. After you killed my family, you want to get married?!”

You pushed him away from you and slapped him

Jungkook poked his cheek with his tongue and quickly dialed a number

“Kill them all.”

You look up wide eyed and shouted “No!”

“You don’t wanna marry me so, now I have to kill them.”

“Wait! No! I’ll marry you! Please set them free!”

Jungkook smirked in victory and told his buddies to stop

“Wedding is tomorrow. Everything is planned, all you have to do is get all dolled up for me and say “I do.”

He left your room as you sat down on the edge of the bed, wiping your tears away

The next day was the worst day of your life

They woke you up early so, they could start getting you ready for the wedding

Once you said “I do” at the alter and signed the paper, Jungkook lips turned into a evil grin

After sealing your marriage with your first kiss, Jungkook drove you both back to your new house

Once you got inside you turned around and faced him

“I did what you asked. I got married to you and now, I’m your mate. You got what you wanted. Now show me live footage that you’re letting the wolves go.”

“You’re so cute, y’know? You really fell for it. The footage wasn’t live. Those wolves have been dead for a while. I could show you the footage of me killing them, if you’d like.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach

“What do you mean? It wasn’t real?!”

“You’re so naive, little one.”

You look at him, dumbfounded

“Why did you kill all of them? Why did you kill my pack? I just don’t understand. Why did you kill all of them just to marry me in the end?”

“Lower your voice, I don’t like being talked to in that way.”

“Go fuck yourself!” You yelled and turned around to leave

He pulled you back and carried you downstairs to the basement while you kept thrashing and yelling

“Let me go, you sick bastard! I don’t want to be near you. Your scent is disgusting!”

You made the worst mistake of your life that night

That was the first time you made him angry

He tried controlling himself but, after you insulted his scent, he wasn’t going to go easy on you

One hard slap after another shut you up pretty quickly

Now, you were terrified of him

Your cheeks were warm and stinging as hot tears glided down

All you could think was “why?”

Why was this happening to you?

Why was only your breed being targeted?

Why did he kill all those wolves?

It mentally tore you apart

You couldn’t wrap your head around anything going on

Before you could fight back, Jungkook got on top of you and pulled your dress down

“W-what’re you doing?!” You quickly grab your dress and struggled to keep it up

“No! No, please! I’m not ready! Please, I’m not ready! I hate you!”

You began to panic, so naturally you howled

“Please! I want my first to be someone I love! Please, don’t do this to me! I’ve never done anything bad in my life! You can kill me if you’d like!”

Crying and fighting wasn’t enough to stop Jungkook

He pushed his whole length in and started fucking you hard without letting you adjust

You frantically cover your breast and private part with your hands but he flipped you around and took you from behind

You felt disgusting and worthless

Your blood was streaming down your thigh and it covered his cock

Jungkook grabbed your ripped wedding dress and wiped up all the blood so, you’ll never forget this day

He threw it in front of you to make you feel even more bad about yourself

You looked away from the dress and focused on your breathing

The speed he was going at was unbearable therefore, it was quite hard to catch your breath

You started to cry for help, calling for anyone who was brave enough to save you

Jungkook’s size wasn’t easy to adjust to

It felt like you were being ripped apart

Especially because it was your first time

“P-please! S-slower! I can’t-”

Your voice cracked in between your sobs

You felt his cock grow inside of you and his tip began rubbing against your cervix

The pain was too much to handle so, you started to cry harder

“No! Too much! I can’t take it!” You wailed, trying to move away from him

He pulled you right back and went as deep as he possibly could

You came around him and thought it was over

Little did you know, it was just the beginning

Hours later, you were under him sobbing hysterically

You were filled with his cum to the point where it was leaking out of you

There was literally a puddle of cum in between your legs

You had bruises all over your arms and body because of his tight grip

And his strong scent made your head spin

You were a helpless, mess

Hickeys covered your neck, collarbone and jawline

Your lips were swollen from all the rough kisses

Your clit was burning from overstimulation

Your cheek was red and bruised

But, Jungkook didn’t plan on stopping

You felt like you were going to pass out when suddenly ripples of forced pleasure pushed through your body

You held your breath and tried fighting off the feeling but it was impossible

You started to cry more, not being able to handle the fierce orgasm

You sobbed uncontrollably, not know what was happening to your body

Before you could open your eyes again, you passed out

Jungkook hovered over you again and fucked you 10x harder after watching you spasm around him

He didn’t care that you were unconscious

You looked so hot in that moment, he couldn’t resist

This continued on for the rest of the year until he purposely impregnated you

If his offspring had a mix of his genes and a mix of your genes, it’d definitely be one of the strongest wolves to ever live

You were crying so hard, telling him to stop because you weren’t on anything

After you found out you were pregnant, he blamed it on you

“You have one fucking job and it was to take your pill.”

“I ran out of pills and I told you that night! I told you to stop. Jungkook, I tried my best to warn you but you didn’t listen-”

He pushed you back on the bed and forced another orgasm out of you, not caring about your pregnancy

You couldn’t fight him off so, you stayed still and hoped for the best

You didn’t want to stress out because it would be bad for your baby

Although you were pregnant, Jungkook demanded sex

Even when you were 8 months pregnant, he still fucked you as hard as he could

You were in so much pain but handled it for your child

The next month, you gave birth

You were obviously new to the mom life and it was quite difficult to adjust

Usually, women have to wait 4-6 weeks before engaging in sexual intercourse

The doctor explained it to both you and Jungkook, so it’s not like he doesn’t know

After you breast feed your newborn son, you tuck him into bed and go to your shared bedroom

You were still in a lot of pain and really wanted some rest

Jungkook was out hunting and when he came home, he was a bit intoxicated

You smelt the alcohol the moment he stepped in the house

He stumbled his way upstairs and slammed the door shut, scaring your newborn

Your son started to cry so you quickly got up to put him back to sleep but Jungkook didn’t allow you

“See what you’ve done? You wouldn’t have to deal with this shit if you had just taken your pill.”

You ignored him and went to your son’s room to put him back to sleep

Jungkook followed you to his room and pulled you out before you could pick up your son

“Did you listen to what I said? I’m fed up with this attitude of yours.”

“Let’s not fight in front of him. We’ll talk in the room.”

You escaped his grip and put your son back to sleep

When you enter your room, you see Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed with his belt in hand 

Your heart dropped to your stomach

“N-not today. It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet.”

He scoffed, “do you really think I give a shit?”

He raised his voice a little and you gestured him to keep it down

“Don’t yell, he’s sleeping.”

“This is my house, I can talk however I’d like.”

There was no winning against him, especially if he’s intoxicated

You thought you could hold him off for the night until he’s sober again, but you were completely wrong

You were going to your side of the bed when he whipped his belt below your butt

He pulled you by the hair onto the bed and pulled down your night shorts

“I can’t, Jungkook! It hasn’t been 4 weeks! No!”

Jungkook always gets what he wants

His body weight kept you down as his cock plunged deep inside your cunt

You haven’t healed properly, so the pain was intolerable

You covered your mouth with your hand and sobbed

You still needed to be quiet but it hurts so bad

You pushed your face into your pillow and attempted to let out quiet whimpers

“It hurts! Please, slower!” You whispered

Jungkook purposely went faster and the skin slapping was so loud, you were afraid it’d wake up the baby

You were gasping for air, trying to get his body weight off of you so you could breathe normally

An hour after, you had another orgasm

You clutched onto the bedsheets and tried your hardest to remain silent

Jungkook came inside you again and collapsed on top of you, making you groan

He grabbed your right breast and began sucking as hard as he could until milk squirted onto his tongue

You tried squirming around to get him off, but the more resistant you are the more aggressive he gets

In the end, you passed out like always

You kept your distance from him and gave all your attention to your son

He hated that your attention wasn’t on him 24/7

So, he gave your son to his parents for a full month and kept you locked up in the basement

For that whole month, he fucke you senselessly

You were having orgasms every night; you couldn’t do it anymore

He’d bite down on your nipples and manhandle you all sorts of ways

You were exhausted but your son’s life was always on the line

Jungkook could easily hurt him

He doesn’t really care about your son

(I mean, he does but he acts like he doesn’t so he can use it against you.)

Jungkook only looks at your son as your weakness

He’ll make you have three orgasms in a row and if you tell him to stop or slow down, he mentions your son and it immediately shuts you up

He loved having so much power over you

He could literally fuck you for the rest of your life

You didn’t understand why this was happening to you, but there was nothing that you could do about it

There’s no one that could help you and even if there was, Jungkook will always one step ahead

No one dares to mess with him

I know this has lots of mistakes. I’m so sorry😭

[writingmyanxietyaway]

Triangles | Rio - Berlin

Requested by anon:  Hi! Love your blog btw. Would you mind doing an rio x reader x berlin imagine, where tge reader is tge same age as rio and tgey have a thing going on and berlin lijes the reader and is jealous. Reader is park of the team and plays hostage. And when they have to undress to their clothes berlin cames uo to reader and orders her to do so. And rio is like super angry, but can't do anything avout it to not reveal their relationship and the fact that reader works with them. Thank you.

Word count: 1.5k

Warning: swearing, angst, mention of blood

Note: hi! thank you so much! i hope this is what you meant! hope you like it, enjoy! x

------------

‘Vienna, 2 minutes out,’ you heard over your ear piece. You were part of the heist, yet your role was to be a random stranger amongst the other hostages. Every detail, every escape plan, every weapon was discussed with you in the room. El Profesor was aware of the risks only one brave hostage could bring, so you were there to keep things cool if things went sideways.

You were also Rio’s girlfriend. You two had been dating since the start of that year, when you met at a convention for technology. When you met you two hit off immediately and had been dating ever since. Little did you know you’d both be asked to do this job, unknowing of the other. But things got a little complicated when Berlin came into the view. You two had had a love affair a couple of years back, but when you parted ways you promised never to talk about it again.

You glanced around and saw your watch counting down the last minute. You were nervous, excited and a little hesitant all at the same time. You wanted to be part of the action, not sit on the floor for six days, but here you were.

When you heard loads of commotion coming towards you, you felt your heartbeat pick up. It was happening. You saw the red suits come into view and you smirked. Guns were held in the air and screams filled the entrance - the alarms loudly ringing in the background. You stepped back a little, wanting to see your boyfriend one last time before you went to the others. You saw one of them approach you and he quickly lifted his mask to kiss you one last time.

‘Promise you’ll be careful?’ you whispered against his lips. He nodded and smiled at you, placing a hand on your cheek.

‘Always, sugar.’

He pulled you away from behind the stairs but not before pulling his mask back on. You saw Berlin burn holes in your head from the side of the stairs. Was he jealous? As you focussed on your role, you trashed in his grip, playing your role as an innocent visitor. He shoved you to all the other hostages and joined Berlin and Tokio. You faked a few tears here and there and tried to mingle with the others. Some of them were crying, some of them were in complete shock and unable to do anything. You felt slightly bad about traumatising them so badly, but you knew the plan and that was to leave without harming anyone.

-

It was now a couple of hours later and you noticed they had brought out the red suits, boots and masks. Berlin did his intimidating little talk and you all got a suit. You didn’t want to change in front of him, in front of anyone for that matter. The only man you ever wanted to see your body was Rio. You were a tough girl, but changing in front of people always made you anxious. You caught Rio’s eye when he stood on the stairs, but when Berlin moved in your direction you couldn’t help but desert your attention to him. He stopped in front of you, smirk plastered on his face.

‘Change into your suit, woman,’ he dared. You hated that smirk. What you did all those years ago was a mistake and you were contstantly reminded of that night in your sleep.

‘No,’ you stated, ‘Not here.’

‘Oh, we’ve got ourselves a brave girl on board! Hear that everyone?! This one here thinks she can do whatever she pleases.’ He took his gun and pointed it directly to your stomach. Your stare hardened. Who the fuck did this man think he was?

From the corner of your eye, you saw Rio step forward but Denver quickly held him back. He whispered something in his ear and he turned around.

‘Strip. Now.’ Berlin demanded. You knew you had to, that was the worst part. Being the only one of the hostages not wanting to wear a suit and not get shot would definitely get suspicious. You angrily took of your jacket, your jeans and changed into the suit. You felt embarassed, weak and insecure. That was a dick move and he knew it.

He stepped closer to you when you were done and whispered in your ear, ‘That’s the good girl I know. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before, is it?’

You gagged at his words and he quickly disappeared up the stairs. Denver nodded at you and clapped Rio on the back. It had been such a long time since you had felt so vulnerable and for no good reason Berlin kicked you right back to that time. You had to talk to Rio. And quickly.

-

You were chosen to work in the offices and count the money. Nairobi was the supervisor. It had been more than three days since you had seen Rio and you had to talk to him. When Nairobi passed you, you dropped a wad of cash on the floor and leaned over, catching her attention.

‘I don’t feel good.. Can I please use the restroom?’ you asked her, raising your eyebrows. She nodded and grabbed you by the arm, not before threatening the other women you were working with.

‘I really need to talk to Rio. Please, Nairobi,’ you begged. She quickly nodded and went to get Rio. Pacing back and forth, you anxiously bit your nails. When the door opened, your heart dropped to the floor.

‘What did they do to you?’ you gasped, running towards him. You held his head in your hands as you inspected his face. He had a bruise on his cheek and a black eye. ‘Please tell me who did this to you, Ani.’

He looked at you through his lashes and winced when you stroked your thumb over his bruise. He looked completely broken, bags under his eyes and shrunken posture.

‘It was Berlin, wasn’t it?’ you asked. You didn’t even have to ask, you already knew. That bastard couldn’t let you go, could he? You huffed and pushed passed Rio. ‘Wait here.’

Berlin was eating when you stomped through the door. He didn’t notice you at first, but when you smacked your hand on the table, everyones attention went to you.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure, sweetheart?’ he smuggly asked.

‘You know exactly why. What the fuck were you thinking? Smashing his face in, just because you can’t let something go that happened years ago? How old are you? 10?’ you sneered. ‘If you’re jealous, just say that. But hurting someone else because you can’t talk about your feelings is fucking ridiculous.’

The room fell silent, your speech even silencing Denver. They didn’t know you had met before the heist and especially about your relationship. You saw his tough façade fade as his eyes flickered from your furious face to the sandwich he was eating. He knew it was wrong and he regret it the moment he saw how broken Rio was. The young adult was terrified and it made him realise he had turned into the man he promised not to be anymore.

‘You seriously don’t have anything to say about this?’ you huffed. ‘You haven’t changed a fucking bit, Andrès. Stay the fuck away from me and Rio or you’ll end up just like him.’

When you left, Berlin felt humiliated. Not that you’d called him out like that, but humiliated to have let his anger take over his common sense. You had every right to respond the way you did, he would have done the same for you. Why did he feel so jealous? He was the one who broke things off, not you. He’d thrown you away like many of his other treasures, yet he couldn’t let you go. Rio was way better for you. He treated you like a princess, talked to you about his feelings and could give you a much better life than he could have given you.

‘So, wanna explain what the fuck just happened?’ Denver carefully asked. Berlin cracked his knuckled and took a sharp breath. They weren’t supposed to know and frankly, it was none of their business either. So he shoved his chair back and went looking for the both of you. The least you deserved was an apology.

‘- a dick.. he won’t do it again, I’ll make sure of that,’ he heard you say soflty. Rio hissed when you wiped away a small drop of blood just under his eye and you remorsefully sighed. ‘I’m sorry, I should have told you.’

‘No, I’m the one who should apologise,’ Berlin stated, stepping into the room. He could see Rio flinch and your stare harden. ‘I’m sorry. I let my anger cloud my reality and I snapped. There was a point where I was you Rio and I regret to this day that I let her go. I got jealous because I realised she was everything that I needed and more, but I saw that too late. I was immature and for that I want to apologise.’

Your eyes softened and you thankfully nodded at him. You turned your attention to Rio who held out his hand to Berlin. Berlin took it and shook his hand firmly.

‘Don’t let her go, Rio. She’s too precious for that.’

.. .. .. .. ..

Berlin Taglist

@nkjktk​ - @michaellangdonenthusiast​ - @hamiltonsofcrap - @nicke0115​ - @pinkrapunzel

[mtfstuff]

Detective Mark

It was largely a standard mission. To infiltrate and arrest criminals and drug dealers. Not a big thing.

The problem is that they've managed to get their hands on one of those body possession machines. Thats how they managed to get out of prison. According to the latest report, they have taken teenagers in possession. After that mission everything changed, but let me tell you about it from the start.

I was making myself something to eat as my boss walked in to talk to me.

"I got a new mission for you, Mark. Top secret, if you agree to do it.", he said.

"I'm listening. What should I do?", I answered.

"Criminals escaped the prison. Kenny Miller and Dan Schwarz. You know them?"

"Of course. I was the one who brought them behind bars. How did they escape?"

"Body possession. They got two guards which we later found unconscious 2 miles next to the prison."

"And my mission is to arrest them?"

"Roughly, yes. According to our latest reports they've managed to possess bodies of teenagers on a high school to start selling drugs again."

Now I knew what he wanted.

"I wont do that. You know I'm not into that.", I said.

"Top secret,  remember Mark. You're in.", he answered with a grin.

I let out a deep breath.

"Who will I take over?", I asked.

"The adoptive son of my dead sister.  He goes to the same school and was friends with the possessed victims. He is ready, so if you could follow me."

My boss walks away and I follow him through a door into the next room. The machine took almost the entire space of the room and by the looks of it, it was ready to use.

In front of it was a young guy, probably my new body. He turns around to reveal his thick glasses. He has to be almost blind without them, I thought.

"Hi, I'm Eric.", he said reaching forward to shake my hand. I felt how he checked me out. How he glanced at my arms, my beard and my boots.

I shook his hand.

"I'm Mark. I'll be the one you're swapping bodies with.", I said.

I saw how his eyes lightened up until my boss started talking.

"Not really.", he said. "As Mark needs your knowledge about the school Eric, we'll place his consciousness over yours."

"So we'll be two guys in one body?", I asked.

"Correct.", he answered.

Eric and I sit down at the opposite ends of the machine. Arms, legs and head are tied to the machine. We both give the sign that we are ready. I close my eyes and count to 3. As I open them again, everything looks blurry.

"I cant see shit!", I said with a high pitched voice.

Cant wait to have my body back soon, this body is not made for a man like me, I thought.

I'm sorry that you dont like my body but you agreed to do this mission, I heard the high pitched voice in my head. Erics voice.

Off to a great start, didnt know we could hear each others thoughts, I thought. This time Eric stayed quiet.

Someone put myself glasses on. We got untied and I stood up. It was weird to control such a lean body. I looked over to my real body, laying unconscious in the seat. I missed it already but that it was unconscious was better than someone else walking around as me. Last time I switched bodies for work it was with a 70 year old man. My body was sticky when I got it back and my bathroom and some of my clothes were full with cum. So disgusting to think of someone jerking off in my body. Especially when it was a 70 year old.

In the evening I got driven to the school where I should arrest Kenny and Dan.

Two days later I finished the mission and got driven back to the police station. I entered the room with the machine again and saw my old body still laying there as if it wasnt moved. I was so happy to see it again. I sat down on the seat, closed my eyes and counted to 3. I felt my real body again. The warm leather jacket, my tight pants and shirt on my muscles. I wiggled my toes in my leather boots. It felt so great not wearing those Chucks anymore.

I opened my eyes to see that I was still tied to the machine.

"You can untie me now, guys.", I said. It was so great to hear my deep voice again.

Only now I noticed that something wasnt right. The only person with me and Eric in the room was my boss. Normally, multiple people would operate the machine.

I looked at my boss who was talking to Eric. Both whispered.

"Is everything alright?", I asked.

Both of them looked at me and Eric chuckled.

"My nephew said that you were quiet cocky in his body. You made nasty remarks about his clothes, his looks and so on. As compensation, he'll use your body for some time", my boss said.

I was shocked. I never thought something like this would happen.

"Wait, no. This is not true!", I shouted. "I never said something like this."

But it was to late. My boss pressed the button again and I felt how Erics soul entered my body. It was a cold feeling, causing me to shiver. I tried to push him back into his own body but through the help of the machine he overpowered me. I felt how I lost control of my limbs, my muscular body.

Its a pleasure to use this body, I heard Erics voice in my head.

My boss looked at me with a dark grin as he said:"Codename."

"Exodus", I heard myself answer.

"Good it worked.", my boss said as he untied my body.

I had no control over my body as it stood up and my arms started to touch my body. Eric took off my leather jacket and sniffed it. He let out a moan and grabbed my dick. I felt how my dick raised and I couldnt do anything.

"You have 30 minutes for yourself in the bathroom. Here are some clothes we took from his home.", my boss said as he took out a black sportsbag. He opened it to give us a look.

"I see you in 35 minutes in my bureau, Mark.", he said leaving the room.

Eric grabbed the bag and went through the other door into the bathroom. We were alone.

He started to sniff my sweaty armpits and to lick my biceps. He rubbed my cock in my jeans while flexing my muscles in the mirror.

I felt how pre-cum started to drip into my jockstrap and I couldnt do anything against it.

Eric opened my belt and took my dick out of my jockstrap. He wanked it off but he didnt manage to shoot my load. He wanked so hard that he started to stumble. He looked down at my feet. At my black leather boots.

I always wanted to wear boots like this, even though I have to learn how to properly walk in them, his thoughts said.

Eric sat down on a toilet seat and pulled both boots off. He wiggled with my toes in my gold toe socks as he raised the first boot to my nose and put my dick into the second. I could smell the warm, worn leather and the sweat and I felt how that turned Eric on.

I felt how he pressed the top of my dick against the sole of my boot right as my body shot my first load. Eric opened my mouth and let out a loud moan. I was deeply embarrassed.

He switched boots so that I could smell the sweet cum inside my boot which caused me to shoot my second load right into my other boot.

He took off my Red shirt and wrapped it around my dick.

"Watch this.", he said.

He put both boots, with the cum inside, back on. I felt how my socks started to soak it up, it felt disgusting. Like wet socks. But this caused me to shoot my last load and probably the biggest I've ever had into my shirt.

Satisfied with what he did he looked at my watch.

10 minutes left. Time to dress up again, he thought.

He took my jockstrap and my pants off while walking back to the bag.

He looked inside and took a black jeans, jockstrap and a blue shirt out. He put the shirt on, letting my fingertips glide over my abs. He lifted my booted foot to put on my new jockstrap when I heard his thoughts. I dont need this, the jeans will feel great too. So he grabbed my black jeans and put it on. He put on my belt, my gun and my badge. At last he lifted my leather jacket from the bag, sniffed it one last time and put it on. He stuffed the old clothes into the bag and left the bathroom.

He walked into the bureau of my boss.

"Looking good, my son.", my boss said.

"Mark. We're not alone.", Eric answered. He crossed his arms. "What now?"

"First, we just got called to a crime scene. Ready up, we're driving in 5 minutes." He made a sign to come closer and Eric walked around the desk to stand next to him.

"After that, we'll test that body to the max at home.", my boss whispered.

"Sounds good.", Eric answered.

The whole trip to the crime scene was torture. I had to see Erics thoughts about my naked body and the one of my boss. So gross. He also looked through my memories. I tried to stop him but I was too weak.

Arriving at the crime scene I felt how my heart started to beat faster. Eric was nervously looking through my memories how to act as me. I didnt bother to stop him as I got weaker every time I tried and as I had to think about what gruesome night stood before me. I had to make peace that he will be me forever.

----------------------------------------------------------

This story as a commission from a friend.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

for @bend-me-shape-me 's SPN advent calendar 2020. prompt: phone calls and late night texts.

Cas isn't a serial texter.

And Dean's a-okay with it.

But for all that's worth, they sure seem to have a ridiculous amount of emotionally significant conversations via, or starting off as, texts. And most often, in the middle of the night.

*

>>> hello, dean. [12:07 am]

Dean jolts up at the sound, realizing he fell asleep still wearing his headphones, with the laptop on his lap (and a new episode of The Good Place playing) and rolls his eyes at himself, hitting pause before he can see what’s happening (because he has good reflexes, and because screw spoilers that’s why) and rummaging for his phone.

At this hour of the night, it has to be something important.

It doesn’t really strike him that Mechanical Engineering majors whose only other selfprofessed skill is air guitar aren't exactly the frontline warriors for midnight emergencies.

Cas's name shows up when he squints at the too-bright screen, and he sits up a little straighter.

<<< hey [12:09 am]

<<< you OK? [12:09 am]

The response is immediate.

>>> do you have peanut butter? [12:09 am]

And as if it's an afterthought, Cas adds.

>>> yes, I'm fine. how are you? [12:10 am]

Dean blinks.

<<< peachy. peanut butter? [12:10 am]

At least this time the response takes a while. Dean wonders if Cas realized it was midnight, and not exactly a time to run inventory on your best friend's stash of condiments.

>>> I ran out. [12:12 am]

Dean sighs, unable to help smiling.

It's not like he's a stranger to Cas's weird cravings when he's high. (There'd been this one time with pie and a traumatized Gas 'N Sip cashier that still sits heavy on Dean's conscience.) But he doesn't think Cas is supposed to be high right now — Dean's usually either invited or informed by an unspoken rule — which just means this is regular "jelly, not jam"-Cas, at his core a weird, persistently sleep-deprived economics major and astronomy nerd, that Dean may or may not have had a crush on for an embarrassingly long time, and who's also prone to grammatically perfect texting, deadpan, Disney references, and bluntness when the occasion calls for it.

<<< pretty sure i have some [12:14 am]

>>> :) [12:14 am]

>>> I'm coming over [12:14 am]

*

And weird as it may sound, that had turned out to be the night Cas told him he was gay. Said it had been a revelating moment, unprecedented and wholly unexpected — and apparently revelations come in pairs because it had been followed by an intense need for peanut butter, and the rest, he explained emphatically, was history.

Dean had just snorted, congratulated him, and brought out the fancier plates for sandwiches — shipped in from home instead of a sale at Target — all the while, repeating to himself in a loop, that this changed nothing between them, nothing at all, and Cas having the capacity to be attracted back to him didn't mean that he ever would be (or for hell's sake, he'd scoffed at his traitorous chick-flick-nonsense brain, is.)

*

The second time had been early — way, way too early and it was by pure chance that Dean was awake to respond at six friggin' am on a Sunday. Like, that’s practically nighttime. 

Goddamn stupidly-fit running-freak.

Dean picks up his phone blearily, tongue in cheek as he clicks on it.

>>> I miss you [6:28 am]

>>> I'd* miss you [6:29 am]

Dean's stomach twists, and he's not sure if it's in a good way, or a bad way, or what-the-sincere-fuck-are-you-talking-about way.

<<< what [6:32 am]

<<< wtf are you talking about? [6:32 am]

Nothing.

<<< cas? [6:33 am]

<<< dude [6:34 am]

<<< cas???? [6:34 am]

Dean swears at his screen, more queasy than irritated. He can't stop fidgeting, so gives up on lying down altogether and hoists himself to his feet. Better to get his friggin' toothbrush since he's already up, and now definitely awake. Cas was so paying for this later.

He comes back, mouth mint-fresh in theory but still tasting awful and of fear and dread, and practically sags when he sees his screen blare with two messages from Cas.

>>> sorry, I had to make a call. [6:42 am]

>>> I'm not taking the job. [6:42 am]

*

And that's how Dean finds out about Michael (Cas's oldest brother, entitled asshole) inviting Cas to join his and Lucifer's (second oldest, bag of dicks) firm the year he graduates — invite, of course, being a loosely used word here for expecting it blindly (out of some crap he calls 'loyalty') and being readily willing to manipulate him into it.

And it's how he finds out that Cas turned them down.

"It's not who I am anymore." Cas had repeated, third time probably, and surer than before, and Dean had nodded earnestly before realizing Cas couldn't see him through the phone, and humming his affirmation instead. "And if I go back there, I'm never getting out again."

Dean'd swallowed.

"I don't want to." Cas had said, voice trembling. "I am — my own person here. It shouldn't be like this but this is the first time I have autonomy, Dean. Here is free will, and here are you. I don't — I can't. I'm not going to let them take it away."

"Good." He'd sounded shaky to even himself. "Don't."

"Yes." Cas had promised. "I'm not going."

*

And eventually they'd moved past the heavy talk into why-didn't-I-hear-about-this-before territory, Dean being righteously annoyed at his best friend for keeping something so huge from him, and Cas making lame (but probably valid) excuses in the name of not knowing how to explain the situation until he knew himself what he was going to do, because Dean may've been the first person he'd confided in about the insane fuckery that been his childhood and adolescence, but that still didn't mean he'd understand this, broken and convoluted.

And then Cas had nicely segued himself out of Dean's target of irritation and added, "They asked Gabriel too, by the way."

"And?" Dean didn't ever have much care for Gabriel (third oldest brother, cares about Cas, still a jerk) but Cas shared an apartment with him, so he had to face him plenty.

"He's running off to Miami."

And Dean had thrown his head back and laughed until Cas had smoothly added, "And I was wondering if you would consider moving in with me." 

At which point, of course, he'd started coughing instead, because holy shit, it actually made sense (Sammy had left for Stanford two months back, and Dean lived alone in a space that had probably been two big even when there were two of them) and might actually happen, but Dean wasn't really sure how much longer he'd be able to hide his crush, sharing a friggin' kitchen with the guy.

*

The third time's after their first date.

(Because, well. It happened.

It happened with Dean leaning across the breakfast table to prove to Cas his bacon was superior (to cookie friggin' crunch, because goddamn is Cas a dork) and Cas taking a bite with their eyes fixed on each other's, and Dean turning red when Cas licked his lips and then, just like that, Cas swearing under his breath (definitely filed for later pondering, that bit), grabbing Dean, and kissing the living daylights out of him.

And Dean had kissed back with everything he had, hands cupping his face, and nearly melting in his arms - but then they'd separated for air and Cas had had an apologetic look on his face and when Dean had tried to lean in to kiss it away, he'd received half a smile and a shake of his head.

"Let's do it the way we're supposed to."

And Dean had known immediately what he'd meant. Let's not fuck this up by becoming best friends and roommates who sleep together. Let's...play safe.

"Okay. Uh," he'd rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"Thursday." Cas had promised with twinkling eyes, though Dean had already known he was going to say that since he knew Cas’s week at least as well as he knew his own, and two days and an anxious half of a thursday later, they went on their first date. Burgers and beer, and Led Zepp, and hands held in the Impala. Four hours later, they were back, and in their respective rooms, and Dean couldn't stop thinking about Cas.)

When his phone vibrates, Dean reaches for the bedside table.

It's at least midnight, it feels like he's been in bed for ages, and the only reason he isn't asleep is because all his brain seems to be capable of at the moment is thinking endlessly about the date. Fortunately, he's not the only one — although he's better at hiding it (practise, he'd say) because his heart is in his mouth the moment he reads Cas's text.

>>> I think I'm falling in love with you [11:43 pm]

>>> already. [11:43 pm]

Dean is very grateful for autocorrect as he types back with too-excited thumbs and a racing heart.

<<< so much for doing it the regular way cas mosby [11:44 pm]

>>> in my defense, it's been years. [11:44 pm]

<<< that part i get [11:44 pm]

<<< me too [11:44 pm]

<<< but youre supposed to wait three days before calling dumbass [11:45 pm]

Jesus, he'd never expected to blush cause of texts, but here they are.

>>> I'm texting. [11:46 pm]

And he guesses he'd never expected to giggle (he's alone there, sue him) cause of them either, but Cas apparently exists to prove him wrong about himself.

<<< good for you [11:46 pm]

He sends, biting his lip, and then lies in the silent darkness for a couple of minute, devoid of text notifications entirely, thinking uneasily — before he gives up.

They're idiots, sure, but nobody is this dumb.

<<< so when the fuck are you coming over then [11:50 pm]

>>> on my way <3 [11:50 pm]

And thinking about the lightening speed of that reply and the fucking heart emoji is enough to sustain him the entire one minute it takes Cas to get there, gently opening Dean's door, and climbing into bed — fitting in Dean's space like it's been made for him, and kissing him in greeting after leaving his phone on the table next to Dean's.

*

As it goes, with the confessions and the midnight cravings (and the grocery lists that keep getting piled onto through the day, and random pickup lines Cas decides are perfect to send Dean daily once he's found a website for puns, courtesy of Claire, and of course, pictures of Grease, which clog Dean's cloud in dozens whenever the ridiculously cute cat does something even slightly out of routine, god bless her lazy soul) Cas might just be a texter.

But Dean's pretty sure he's more than okay with it, so it doesn't really matter.

[once-upon-a-oneshot]

Friends with Benefits

Summary: You and Calum are friends with benefits, but what happens when one of you starts to want something more

Genre: Frat!Calum

Warnings: swearing, sexual themes

Word Count: ~900

“Same time tomorrow?” Calum asks as you clumsily climb out of his bed and search around the room for the panties you arrived in.

“Um,” As you reach under the bed, you feel the silk material in a crumbled heap. You pull it out only to realize that these are not the panties you wore here. In fact, they aren’t even yours. “I actually have plans.” You continued, throwing the panties away from you and wiping your hand on your still bare thigh.

“Plans?” Calum’s tone is doubtful, almost even mocking. But you’re too busy scowering the room for your panties to notice.

“Yep.” Deciding to abandon your search for your undergarments, you grab your pants off the foot of the bed and shimmy them on. “So, looks like you’re going old school tomorrow. Just you, yourself, and Miss Righty.” 

The way you grin to yourself as you pull your shirt over your head annoys him. He hates for any one, especially just some girl he hooks up with, to feel that they’ve got anything over him.

“Bold of you to assume you’re the only girl I call when I need to get off.” He pushes, raising an eyebrow at you. Uninterestedly you roll your eyes at him.

“Not only,” you smirk to yourself, “but best.” He’s trying to best you, but you’re not like all the other insecure girls he messes around with. You know what you’ve got, and you know what it’s worth.

“Again,” it was Calum’s turn to smirk at you. “Bold assumption”. Your only response it to roll your eyes as you bend over to pull on your shoes.

“I mean, for the past three weeks you’ve called me, what,” You turn your eyes towards the ceiling and scrunch your face pretending to think. For added measure you use one finger to solve an imaginary equation in the air. “Oh that’s right, every night.”

You won’t back down. But Calum won’t either.

“Yea, and who do you think I’ve called every morning?” Calum smirks triumphantly. You say nothing as you grab your purse and head for the door.

“Good, then call one of them.” You say it and mean it. Just like it was for Calum, to you this arrangement was simply a business transaction. A mutual exchange of sexual favors. Nothing more. 

“See ya.” You call over your shoulder as you finally walk out of the room. Leaving Calum naked and alone in his bed.

*****CALUM’S POV*****

Friday night. Exactly 22 hours since I last got off. I’m not OCD or anything. It’s just that over the years I’ve found that keeping a strict “booty-call” schedule made it easier to keep track of my endeavors. Not to mention it prevents the always awkward “two booty-calls running into each other” situation. If you’ve never experienced one chick leaving your room half naked, while another chick is walking in ready to smash, trust me – you don’t want to go there. However, it did make for some pretty hot hate-sex.

Not that the schedule really mattered much lately. There was really only one time to account for. (Y/N)’s time. Every night for the past couple weeks. 10 o’clock on the dot is her call time. Usually she won’t get here until about midnight, but that works out perfectly for me. The later it is the less likely she’ll be to try and hang out, or some shit, afterwards.

Throwing the weight of my body on the bed, I pull my phone out of my tight jean pocket and call her.

It’s not until she doesn’t answer that I remember about the bullshit “plans” she told me she had.  Whether they are real or not, they’ll just have to wait. Because right now, I need her. Well, my dick does anyway.

I call again. This time the phone rings twice and then goes straight to voicemail.

She sent me to voicemail.

This is probably all just some elaborate scheme to make me think she actually has better things to do than fuck me.

Two can play at that game

I toss my phone on the bed and head towards the bathroom. The sound of my phone vibrating on the bed makes me stop in my tracks. I smile to myself and eagerly make a move for the phone.

Eagerly? Why are you eager?

I blame it on my being horny. I can’t help the way my face falls with disappointment when it’s my friends contact name on my screen instead of hers.

Disappointment?

I must be really, really, horny.

“What?” I bark annoyed. It’s not actually him I’m bothered by, but he’s the one who’s available.

“Dude, where are you?” he’s yelling into the phone, and I can hear loud music blaring in the background.

“My room?” I don’t know what he wants, but if he doesn’t tell me soon this conversation is going to end.

“Oh, I figured you were at that Phi Delta party?”

“Well, I just told you I’m in my room.” I snap. “Why the hell would I be at some frat party?”

I’m far from the type. All those preppy douchebags. Running around with their gelled-hair, short shorts, and flip flops. What real man wears flip-flops other than to the beach? And even that is pushing it.

“Yea but-” the sound of his voice pulls me back to reality from my internal rant. “Your little fuck-buddy’s here so I figured-”

“Who?” I interrupt.

“Uh, you know that one chick. The one you rated best rack!”

“(Y/N)?!” I don’t know why but knowing that she was ignoring my calls, while she was probably running around with some douchey frat guy irritated me.

“Yea! Yea dude her! She looks-” Before he can even finish his sentence, I hang up the phone and grab my keys. I don’t know why I going to the party or what I’ll do when I get there, but right now all I can think about is (Y/N) laying in bed with a douche in flip-flops.

As I finally pull up in front of the huge trashy house, none of the irritation has left my body. Taking long strides, I make my way in the house and navigate through all the drunk teens determined to find (Y/N). I do a quick scan of the living room, the kitchen, the backyard, but she’s nowhere to be seen. With every room I check off the list, my fears of her being locked in one of those bedrooms upstairs with some guy grows.

Just as I’m about to storm up the stairs and kick in every door, I spot her walking through the front door, with a guy following close behind. The type of guy who looks like he wears flip flops. As I watch her grin from ear to ear, I can feel anger rumbling deep in my stomach. Suddenly the house feels hot. Too hot.

My eyes follow them into the kitchen. I count to 10, and I head towards the kitchen too.

“Wooow, hey.” I fake shocked to be running into (Y/N) here.

“Calum.” Her statement sounds more like a question as her eyes go wide.

“Plans huh?” My eyes shift to the tool standing too close to her. I mean come on its burning up in here. Definitely, too hot to be standing that close to someone.

“Yea. Uh Corey this is Calum, Calum this is my friend Corey.” Friend? Her friend Corey? And what I’m? Just Calum? What she should’ve said was ‘Douchebag this is the guy who fucks me better than anyone ever has be-‘

“Nice to meet you man.” Douchebag interrupts my perverse thoughts and reaches out to shake my hand. I don’t want to take it. Who knows where those fingers have been.

Hopefully not in her.

I choke on my own thoughts as my breathe gets caught in my throat. I burst into a fit of coughs and (Y/N) and Douchebag just stare at me like I just grew another head. Douchebag pushes his cup towards me and I take it. As I chug down the beer from his cup, I swear I can taste (Y/N)’s pussy on the rim.

His lips better have not gone anywhere near her.

I can’t stop the thoughts going through my head, or the places my fucked-up imagination keeps taking me, but I know it needs to stop.

I finish off Douchebag’s drink and hand the empty cup back to him. I can feel the alcohol immediately. My muscles ease ever so slightly and I’m starting to function like a normal human being again. I need to regain control of this situation.

“So,” I chose to not even address whatever the hell was going on with me a minute ago. “This is the hot date (Y/N) was all giddy about.” I challenge her.

“You told him this was a date?” Douchebag raises an eyebrow and turns his attention to (Y/N) who’s shooting me daggers with her eyes.

“Well I didn’t use those words exactly.” She says through gritted teeth.

“Damn this is embarrassing,” He continues. I smirk to myself and wait for the show to begin. “Because ... I’ve been telling everyone it was.”

Douche, and I can’t stress this enough, bag.

I can’t help but roll my eyes and scoff, which I play off as another cough.

“You Calum, should take care of that cough, and you Corey, follow me to the beer pong table.” I watch as she grabs his hand and pulls him back towards the living room.

I decide to stay in the kitchen and continue adding alcohol to my system. The liquor burns my throat but for the time being it stops the weird thoughts in my head and helps me think more clearly. I mean obviously I’m not jealous or anything because, why the hell would I be. He’s a douche yea, but not because he’s here with the chick I occasionally fuck. And obviously I’m not irritated with her just because she’s here with a douche. It’s just that I needed to get my dick wet and she ignored my call to be here with said douche. Like he’s somehow more important than me getting off.

I stumble back into the living room and find a spot on the couch. Of course from where I’m sitting I have the perfect view of the beer pong table, and therefore the perfect view and Miss Thing and her new boy toy.

I sit watching them as I down beer after beer. My eyes follow (Y/N) intently as she finally walks away from the table towards the kitchen again. Without thinking, my feet are carrying me to the kitchen right behind her.

“Are you like stalking me now Calum?” she spins on her heels noticing me trailing her.

“Fiesty.” I wink at her. She just rolls her eyes and continues over towards the punch bowl to refill her cup. “I just wanted to tell you how good you look tonight.” I lick my lips while allowing my eyes to rake up and down her body, paying particular attention to her breasts.

“Fuck off.” She rolls her eyes at me while shaking her head. She knows this is a game, and she’s fighting hard not to lose.

“Damn,” I place one hand on her neck tilting her head to the side. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.” I make a move to attach my lips to her neck and she lets me. And I know I’ve won. I suck at the sensitive skin and try to push my body closer to hers. “Let me take you upstairs.” I whisper into her neck.

“See I would,” she speaks but doesn’t move away from me. “But, I have a hot date to get back to.” She finally pulls away from me. “I’m just so giddy about it.” She’s mocking me. She smirks as she brushes past me leaving me and my bulge alone in the kitchen.

One hour, and too many shots later I’m still here. At this stupid frat house with these stupid people. I could’ve just gone home, but something keeps me here. I think it’s my obsession with beating (Y/N). Finally proving to her that she should’ve been in my bed with me tonight. Not here with what’s his face. When the first bit of alcohol entered my system, it helped keep my thoughts from running wild. Now that it’s pulsing through my veins as thick as my blood, the thoughts have returned.

I sit on the stairs, watching as (Y/N) grinds her perfect ass against Corbin, or whatever the hell his name was. It makes me sick. He slides his hands down her hips. He could never navigate her body as well as I do – even if she drew him a map. I’m the one that knows all the right places to touch her. I’m the one who knows all the right buttons to push. My name is the name she calls out while I pound into her.

The alcohol is mixing with my lust and my anger and it’s pushing me.

Douchebag spins (Y/N) around and wraps his hands in her hair.

The way that I do.

He tries to lean in and kiss her, but just before his lips meet hers, I’m pushing him off of her. My mind is confused but my fist are determined. I tackle him to the ground and start beating the shit out of him.

“Calum! CALUM GET OFF OF HIM!” (Y/N)’s voice pulls me off of him when no one else has been able to. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I don’t know how to answer her, because truthfully, I don’t know what I’m doing. I stand there glancing around at all the faces of the small crowd that had formed around us.

“He-You-” I was struggling to find a way to blame them for this. She stands there impatiently waiting for me to speak. Her angered expressions triggers something in me. She thinks she can stand here and face off against me. What does she think? She can intimidate me or something?

“You’re the one who should’ve answered my call!” I bite back at her. “Then I wouldn’t have had to come to this stupid ass party in the first place!”

“Calum get over yourself!” Why can’t she just let me win. Why does she have to be so damn stubborn? My body burns with rage and the faces of all these staring people aren’t making things any better.

“What the hell are you all looking at?!” I yell at the nosy ass bystanders. I probably look like a mad man. Wild hair, sweating, with knuckles busted and bleeding. I look scary enough for the crowd to scurry away in all directions turning their attention to something else.

(Y/N), along with the crowd, turns her back on me.

“Don’t,” I grab her arm and spin her back around to face me. “Turn your back on me!”

“Fuck! Off!” She emphasizes each word never letting any of the anger simmer. She jerks her arm away from me and turns her back on me again. I want to say whatever I need to to keep her from walking away from me. And of all the things I could, and probably should say, the best I can do is:

“That guy isn’t right for you!” The words taste foreign on my lips. I’ve never been one to look of for what was “right” for someone. Especially not some girl. The second the words leave my mouth I want to shove them back down my throat.

Now she’ll think she got me.

Now she’ll think she’s won.

“Right for me? Christ Calum it’s a date, not a fucking proposal!” She’s pissed, but at least she stayed. (Y/N) marches up to get in my face. She’s not done with me yet. “And what the hell do you know about right for me?! We fuck on occasion but that doesn’t mean you KNOW ME!”

She turns around and storms off. This time I let her go.

As I watch her walk away from me, I get this feeling. A feeling in the pit of my stomach. A sinking feeling.

Don’t leave me.

The thought scares me. I’ve never wanted someone to stay before, nor did I ever want to want someone to stay. But as the possibility of her staying faded -- leaving me alone -- I realized how desperately I wanted it. How desperately I needed it. Needed her.

This wasn’t a game. It never was. But as she turned her back on me, I couldn’t help but feel like I had just lost.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

I Got You (Part 1)

Summary: The reader is celebrating her two year anniversary with her fiance when her best friend from childhood, Jensen, calls. Something’s wrong with him and he tries to play it off once he remembers what night it is for her but the reader isn’t budging and that may be a good thing for the both of them...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 4,000ish

Warnings: language, angst, vomiting, lying, mention of alcoholism, fluff

A/N: This is a little different for me but I’m really please with how it turned out. Enjoy!

_______

“This looks delicious, babe,” said Andrew as he sat down at the table. You hummed, a little annoyed that he hadn’t let you know he’d be home two hours late. On your anniversary. Your two year anniversary. You wouldn’t mind if he ever let you know but he never, never did and always got mad when you brought it up. You poked at the food and he took a bite, making a face. “It’s a little cold.”

“Well that’s what happens when you reheat it in the microwave,” you said. He bit his tongue and continued to eat quietly, a bit of tension still in the air.

“How was your day?” he asked when he was nearly done with his food.

“Fine. Yours?” you asked, picking at your salad and ignoring the chicken.

“Good. I’m sorry I was late, babe. Why don’t we go out to eat?” he asked.

“It’s our anniversary. I wanted to make you dinner,” you said.

“I ate it,” he said. “You seem hungry still.”

“I’m fine. I just want to watch a movie or something,” you said. He didn’t say anything as he ducked into the bedroom and changed out of his suit and into some sweats and a hoodie. You cleaned up the dishes and went to the bedroom. You grabbed leggings and an old big t-shirt of Jensen’s you’d stolen from his place somewhere around season 10 if you had to guess by the number just under the back collar. You padded into the bathroom and changed out of your skinny jeans and crop top. You took off the new black lingerie you had on and put on something more comfortable. Andrew wouldn’t even notice.

You walked out of the bedroom and found him on the couch, watching some action movie. You sat down in his side and saw your phone light up at the end of the couch. A glance showed it was Jensen and that you had four missed calls from him.

“Did you put my phone on silent?” you asked, reaching over for it.

“It is our anniversary,” he said.

“Yeah and I’m also one of Jensen’s emergency contacts,” you said, rolling your eyes and quickly answering. “Jay?”

“Hey, Y/N,” he said. Something was wrong. His voice was off and it took him a minute to talk again. “Can you come over? I just found out something and I could use you right now.”

“I thought you were in Toronto this week to film for The Boys,” you said.

“I was. Flew down to Dallas for my brother’s birthday earlier. More free time and all, trying to see the family more,” he said.

“What’s he want?” sighed Andrew. You ignored him and heard Jensen take a shaky breath.

“Did someone die?” you asked quietly.

“No,” he said. “No. I found out something though and...I just grabbed a rental car and drove home the past few hours. I had to get out of there.”

“Are you alright?” you asked, already hating the pit forming in your stomach. You’d known him most of your life. You didn’t remember life without him to be honest. Sure, he was away a lot when he filmed but he was back more often now that he was doing shorter gigs and you’d always been there for each other, even during the really busy years. “Buddy.”

“No, I don’t think I’m okay,” he said. He was quiet before you heard him suck in a gasp. “Fuck. It’s your anniversary. Shit, I’m sorry, Y/N. God, like Andrew doesn’t hate me enough already. I’m so sorry. Please enjoy your night, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re my best friend and you are so not alright,” you said. “I’m gonna come over.”

“It’s our anniversary!” said Andrew as you turned to glare at him.

“Y/N, don’t. I’m-” said Jensen as you got up.

“Where the fuck are you going?” said Andrew.

“Jensen is important to me, Andrew. He’s always gonna be important to me. I know you don’t like him but he needs me right now. You don’t even care. You didn’t care about dinner or the anniversary or putting in a little bit of effort. I used to really like you too, you know. When we got engaged though, I saw what you really wanted. Well guess what. I’m not your mother. I’m not your maid and I faked it every time,” you said.

“You’re mad at me? He’s the one ruining our anniversary!” said Andrew.

“Y/N, I’m gonna go. I’m sorry,” said Jensen before you heard him hang up. You groaned and went over to the front hall to grab your jacket. You shoved your phone in your pocket as Andrew stalked over.

“Gonna go sleep with your other boyfriend, hm?”

“Something bad happened to him and frankly, the day I introduced you to him was the day you started all this. You have hated my relationship with him from the start. He has tried so hard to be your friend and you’re always mean and you leave him out. Even your friends think it’s a dick move.”

“You want your best friend or me? Cause I don’t like him and I’m never going to,” he said. 

“I hope you treat the next girl better,” you said. You took off your ring and slammed it on the front table before grabbing your keys and tugging on your boots.

“Whore,” he mumbled.

“I’d rather be his whore than your wife any day. I’ll move my stuff out tomorrow,” you said. You slammed the door shut after yourself and took a deep breath. You weren’t as upset as you thought you’d be. You’d been considering taking a break with him for the past few months but there was no going back after that. Jensen had never been anything but kind to him and always respectful of your and Andrew’s time together.

You skipped down the stairs of the apartment building and down to the garage, rushing over to your car quickly. Something was still very wrong with Jensen and you needed to get to him asap.

“Jensen,” you said twenty minutes later, finding him outside on the balcony off his bedroom, sitting in a chair with his knees tucked to his chest. There was a half full large bottle of whiskey on the ground and the plastic wrapper from where he’d opened it. His back was to you and he turned his head away as you stepped outside. “Jay, what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. You put a hand on his forehead and forced him to look at you. He was drunk. He didn’t start drinking until he’d hung up with you obviously. He was upset too and it was so rare of you to see him cry. 

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his arm. He let you tug him up and into his bathroom. You flipped on the light in the toilet and sat him down in front of it. “Did you eat dinner? Yes or no?”

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“Did you eat on the plane? At the airport?”

He shook his head again and you sighed.

“You just did about, I don’t know, seven, eight shots on an empty stomach. You’re not a kid anymore so if Taylor Gregson’s senior party is anything to go by, I expect you to start puking in the next three minutes.”

“Go away,” he said, wiping off his face.

“Yeah, see no, not happening. I’m also staying here tonight whether you want me to or not. Now sit, throw up in the toilet please, and I will make you something bland to eat and get you some not snot covered clothes, okay?”

“Why are you so nice to me?” he asked. He stared up at you and you instantly knelt down, giving him a hug as he hiccuped. 

“Cause you’re my best friend and I love you,” you said. “Jensen. What happened?”

“Don’t wanna…” he said, shaking his head.

“Did someone die?” you asked.

“No,” he said again. 

“What did you find out? Something with your brother? You said you were at his birthday party.”

“Later please,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” you said. You rubbed up and down his back and you felt him lurch a bit before you shut your eyes and felt wetness on your back. “Did you just throw up on me?”

“Yeah. Sorry,” he said.

“Really is like Taylor Gregson’s party all over again,” you said. “You stay here and I’m gonna take a shower.”

“I got it in your hair I think,” he said. He lurched again but you turned him towards the bowl and he was successful that time. “Ow.”

“Relax,” you said, running a clean hand through his hair for a beat. His body untensed a little but he was still upset and making a mess of himself. “Five minutes and then the shower is yours.”

You took about ten to deal with your hair and you ducked next door to his closet, finding some fresh clothes for the two of you. He managed to not get any sick on himself so after wiping his face off good and getting him to brush his teeth, he looked a little better. You found some pancake mix in the cupboard and started to work on that while he changed. He eventually came out, red eyed and sniffling a bit but he looked sober at least.

“Andrew’s gonna kill me for ruining his night,” he said.

“Andrew and I are over,” you said, waiting for the pan to heat up. Jensen stared as you shook up the jug. “He has always been an ass to you.”

“Y/N. I’m just...he’s your fiance. You’re supposed to prioritize him.”

“He’s supposed to respect people I care about. He is immature and arrogant and mean and he sucks so bad in bed. God, I’ve been dying to tell you how shitty ass of a fuck he is. The most damn selfish little prick I’ve ever met in my life and-”

“Y/N,” said Jensen. You took a deep breath and poured some batter on the pan. “You didn’t breakup cause of me, did you?”

“No. You were just the last straw. You didn’t call cause you wanted a ride or to talk about something that could be done later. You need me. I don’t care if it’s two in the morning, Christmas, my wedding day. You ever call me like that, you ever make me worry like this, I’ll be there in a fucking second,” you said. He lowered his head as you got a plate out for his dinner.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he said.

“If you thought I was busy, why didn’t you call Jared? He lives three minutes away. Three,” you said. He shrugged and you sighed. “I never want to see you doing something like that ever again. I never want you to-”

“I’m not a child,” he shot back, suddenly shooting daggers at you, his face hard and green eyes a too dark shade.

“My father is an alcoholic. You want to call him up? We’ll call him up right fucking now and he’ll tell you how it nearly destroyed his life. He is twenty years sober and he can’t have a drink for the rest of his life because he used it when he was in pain. You will never, Ackles, and I mean never, drink to mask pain again in your life,” you said. The pancake was burning and you broke away your glare, dumping the burnt batter into the trash. When you walked back, Jensen was crying at the counter again and you shut your eyes. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I just...you know how my mom used to have me sleepover your house in the middle of a school week cause he was drunk and she didn’t want me to see it. You know how much it used to bother me. Little shrimpy ass Jensen, you would always tell me to sleep in your bed and you took the sleeping bag. I let you take care of me my whole life. You’re bigger than me, stronger than me. You will never worry about money again. You gave me rent money when I got laid off and refused to let me pay it back. You drove me home when I got drunk at a bar after a fight with Andrew. You stood up for me in seventh grade cause I liked science and Harrison Pitt was a dick to me back then. This is not me treating you like a child, Jensen. This is me helping my best friend because he’s in pain and I can’t stop it. All I can do is make him damn pancakes.”

“Can I have maple syrup?” he asked quietly after a few minutes. 

“Of course. I’ll get butter too,” you said. You cut up a few pieces and gave them along with the syrup to him. You made up more pancakes to reheat for breakfast, Jensen sniffling to himself as he ate. “Feel any better?”

“A little,” he said. “You were always too good for Andrew.”

“I always knew you didn’t like him,” you said. “But you tried. That’s what was important and a concept he apparently couldn’t understand. Good riddance. Oh and I kinda need a place to crash for a bit after my epic walkout.”

“I got plenty of room,” he said. He pushed his plate away when he finished and washed it up in the sink, grabbing the pan as you put away the leftovers.

“Even miserable you have far better manners,” you said with a small smile. He left the pan on the counter to dry and you wrapped your hands around his arm, leading him back to his bedroom and sitting him down. “It’s later. What happened?”

“My whole family’s been lying to me my whole life,” he said. He sat against the headboard and wiped off his nose. “My great aunt, like the super old one, she made a comment and then made a little face like I wasn’t supposed to know something. I mentioned it to my brother and he seemed coy but I knew then it was true. So I confronted my parents and...well it turns out that I’m adopted.”

“You’re what?” you said, scrunching up your face.

“Adopted. When I was an infant. They were never going to tell me,” he said.

“I don’t understand. I mean you kinda look like your dad and even your brother a bit and your sister has your nose.”

“Coincidence,” he said. “I’m a reject baby. I was given up because the couple that had me? They didn’t want me. I looked them up when I got home. Two hot shot lawyers at some big firm in New York. Three kids. Didn’t want this fuck up of one though. I was an accident. A mistake.”

“Jensen,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Jensen, you’re not...so many people get adopted. Your family loves you. You’re so much better off with who you wound up with. They adopted you because they loved you. Jensen they-”

“She used to be my mom’s friend. They adopted me because they felt sorry for me. They didn’t love me. They pitied me. They lied to me my whole life. I heard stories about when she was pregnant and the labor and they were all lies. My brother’s always known. My sister is the only one who didn’t. The whole family knew. They knew about the pathetic little baby that no one wanted the whole time,” he said.

“Hey,” you said, climbing into his lap and grabbing his arms. “You are not pathetic. I have met your parents and your family. Some nights when we were little I wanted them to be my parents. I wanted normal parents. You had the ideal family. You have the ideal family.”

“They admitted they were never going to tell me,” he said. “How fucked up is that?”

“They made a mistake in not telling you. You should have known all along,” you said, fixing the stray hairs falling over his forehead. “If I know anything though it is that they love you unconditionally. You gotta forgive them. They wanted you. You are their son and brother. They adopted you because they loved you. It sounds like your mom stopped being friends with this woman. I wonder why that was,” you said. He shut his eyes and rested his head on your chest. You shushed him as he got upset again, kissing the top of his head.

“You’re not hiding any secrets from me are you?” he asked, arms wrapped tightly around your back.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since I was thirteen years old,” you said. He raised his head up and you smiled. “S’okay. I know I’m not your-”

He kissed you out of nowhere, hand cupping the back of your neck, one long, smooth motion as you felt wetness on your cheeks. He moved back slowly, dropping his hands away, swallowing thickly.

“Sorry,” he said. You smiled and moved closer, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” you said. “Always thought I wasn’t your type.”

“You were. I was too young to understand what it was that I felt. No one’s ever felt like you. And I can’t lose you too so I played it safe. Now...I’d rather get this out of the way so I can feel miserable for the rest of my life.”

“You think our friendship is over?” you asked.

“You were engaged an hour ago and I just kissed you. Of course it’s-”

“You’re ridiculous, Ackles, I swear,” you mumbled against his lips. “Like I said, I will always be there. Now I’d love nothing more than to fulfill every teenage fantasy and adult one if I’m being fair right now. But tonight’s not the night for that. Tonight, let out whatever you’re feeling and tomorrow, we’ll talk to your folks.”

You sat back and smiled, Jensen staring at you with soft wet eyes and you remembered the little boy waiting outside school, trying not to be upset. You lay down next to him and recalled the day you met.

“Hi,” you said, the boy turning away. “Why you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” he said.

“You look like you’re crying,” you said, walking around his other side. You heard a car horn honk and looked ahead to see your dad behind the wheel of the car. You looked around and saw no other other cars there, the boy wiping his face off. “Where’s your mom or dad?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “They said they’d be right here after school.”

“Y/N!” called your dad.

“We’re waiting!” you said back, the boy looking at you.

“For what?” asked your dad.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Jensen Ackles,” he said quietly.

“Jensen Ackles’ parents!” you said. Your dad sighed but he just sat back in his seat and turned up the radio. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I know. You got the blue backpack. All the other girls got pink ones,” he said.

“I like blue. I like pink too but I like blue more,” you said. “I like the cars on your backpack.”

“Thanks. Do you like cars?”

“Yeah,” you said. You sat down and took off your bag, pulling out a few hot wheels from the bottom of it. “Mom said I could bring them as long as I didn’t lose ‘em. Wanna play while we wait?”

“Okay,” he said, taking a seat next to you.

By the time you and Dean were being called over, the sky was a little dimmer and you saw your dad talking to a couple outside the car.

“I think I gotta go home now,” you said.

“Me too. I see you tomorrow,” he said, holding out the car he’d been playing with.

“You keep it in case you got to wait again. Then you’re not bored. I’ll wait with you though if dad says it’s okay,” you said. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he said. He gave you a hug and you smiled as you returned it. “Do you want to be best friends?”

“Yeah! That’s so cool!” you said. 

“Awesome!” he said. You both packed up and ran over to your parents, your dad chuckling as you waved bye to Jensen.

“Make a new friend on your first day?” he asked.

“That’s Jensen. He’s my best friend forever now,” you said. “That’s how it works. I know. Jensen’s got an older brother and he told him all about it.”

“I see. Well buckle up. I’m sure mom’s wondering where we are,” he said. You climbed in the back and saw his parents give a wave as they drove past. “That was real nice of you to talk to that boy when he was upset like that.”

“I didn’t like him crying, made me feel funny,” you said. “Like my chest had a tummy ache.”

“Oh, you’re going to prom with that boy aren’t you,” he mumbled.

“What’s prom?”

“A very, very long way away. Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

“I remember our first day too,” said Jensen. “I’m always a blabbering mess around you, aren’t I.”

“I think I understand what that tummy ache in my chest was. It’s that same feeling I got when you called earlier. I think we really were too young to understand back then what it was that we were experiencing.”

“You mean how I’ve been in love with you since I was five years old,” he chuckled. “Y/N. I still feel really, and I mean really, really shitty. But thank you for coming over. I need you, more than even I know I think.”

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” you said. You kissed him and he smiled, closing his eyes. “You want to sleep? You had a long flight and drive, not to mention day.”

“Yeah, I want to crash. I’m exhausted,” he said. You moved to get up but he sat up with you, watching you carefully. He swallowed again and you threw back the covers, climbing underneath them. 

“Not going anywhere,” you said. He got underneath with you and heard him breathe a deep breath, no sniffles in sight for the first time all night. “Jensen.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“It’ll be okay,” you said. “I promise.”

“I know. Not looking forward to tomorrow is all,” he said.

“Well I’m going with so...can’t be all bad,” you said.

“No. Like you said back then, I stick with you, I’ll be alright,” he said. “Can you get the room light?”

“Sure,” you said. You hopped out of bed and turned off the big light, walking over to his nightstand and finding the switch. You smiled when you saw the hot wheel car on there, Jensen smiling softly as he looked up at you. “Night Jensen.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[ssa-sugar-tits]

Before It's Too Late

Request: this one

Have this scenario in mind: Hotch is working on a case where the victims look like the reader and he feels he should tell her his feelings before it's too late like what happened to his ex wife. Smutty or fluffy, it's your decision

Pairing: Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner x Reader

Content warnings: canon typical violence (torture/murder), mutilation, cursing, mentions of haley's death, smut, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex

a/n: yeahh we're doing the classic there's only one bed shit. enjoy, my horny lovelies.

The entire team saw it, instantly. When JJ pulled up the victims with an uneasy gaze. They looked like you. All four women. You saw yourself in their cold, dead eyes. Your hair matched theirs too under the bloodstains. Hell, they could all be your sisters. The only difference was the glaringly obvious: the terror spilled all over those poor women's faces before they'd been tortured and murdered.

Wheels up in 20.

Hotch's meaningless words echo in your head as you stare deeper and deeper into your victim's eyes.

Hotch sits at his desk, the team's leaving in 10 minutes. He can't shake what everyone knows damn well. The women. They look like Y/N. They look like his clandestine love, Y/N. Hotch won't let anything happen to you, he'll die a thousand times before that happens. But he can still feel Haley's heavy, limp body in his arms and his heart shattering. It took a long time but piece by piece, you put it back together and now you hold Aaron Hotchner's heart in your oblivious hands.

"Y/N, we're leaving," Emily yells to you, walking with JJ out to the jet. You're forced to leave your trance and join the others. You feel hazy and have to focus your breathing as you take a seat next to Hotch.

"Hey babygirl, you're on." Derek places a laptop down with Garcia's live image displayed. Quickly looking up at the team and not wanting to show any sign of weakness, you share your thoughts.

"Well clearly, our guy's got a type. Same ethnicity, hair color, even the lip shape is insanely similar. I'm thinking surrogate." Receiving nods from the team, you hope precariously the profilers beside you don't notice how you're doing everything you can to avoid looking at the crime scene photos. Hotch agrees with you, not looking up from his file for fear of showing just how miserable the very idea of something happening to you is making him.

"Y/L/N is right. Garcia, start by looking at men in the area 20 to 40 years old who are related or romantically involved with a woman fitting the physical parameters of our victims. It'll be long but somewhere to start."

"Yes sir!" Penelope says enthusiastically, already beginning to click away at her keyboard. JJ stays at the back of the jet, making a phone call and Emily speaks up.

"Actually Penelope, cut that down to only romantic involvement. The torture and mutilation of the women's genitals is an act of sex in itself, I doubt he'd be doing that for a mother or sister. And the rage is evident so focus on recent breakups or rejections." Rejection. Why does that word stand out to Hotch?

"Very helpful, my raven-haired beauty," she chirps. "We are down to... 2700 matches!"

The word rejection still makes its way, floating around Hotch's mind like an annoying song he can't get out of his head. That's it, isn't it? You're the song he can't get out of his head. A song he loves, one that may not feel the same way. A song he can't lose.

"Garcia, try looking for large places of residence. Our unsub wouldn't torture in an apartment where neighbors can hear or in a house with other people around." Reid says.

"Look for areas with basements, sheds, garden houses, and such." Rossi adds.

"Hit you back later! P.G. out," she signs off.

Instead of, as he probably should be, doing his job, Hotch lets himself get lost in his thoughts. Thoughts about what happened to Haley, what could happen to you.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Those three gunshots ring in his mind.

Is this why your marriage fell apart, Aaron?

Foyet's words taunt him. How can he let himself love someone again? After failing Haley, at the cost of her life? At the cost of Jack losing his mother.

"Hotch?" you tap him lightly. "We landed, the team's outside."

"Thank you." He gathers his things, taking a quick deep breath.

"Sir," you say it with a careful tone. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine Y/L/N," he reassures you quickly and starts to leave but looks back at you. "Are you? We've all noticed that the victims...."

He trails off but you know what he's talking about.

"It's scary," you admit. "Definitely offputting, but I'll manage."

"If you need anything, let me know."

Your heart skips a beat. He's only being a good boss, you tell yourself.

"Thank you Aaron."

A rare sight, Hotch smiles at you. It's the first time you've called him by his first name.

The team sets up in the precinct and it's a slow day for the case, all in all. The suspect list is narrowed, slowly but surely, and interviews are conducted but no arrests are made. Most of your friends have turned in for the night, urging you to get some rest but you can't. Not when you're-- and you hate to admit it-- fucking scared. How could you possibly not be? Every time you look at the bloody photos, it's almost like looking into a future mirror. Hotch stays in the next room, alone. Gazing down at the file, he has to wonder. Is it really protecting you if he hides his feelings for you? Or is it a selfish attempt to guard his own fucked up fears? He doesn't have time to think about it much, interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Hotch?" You call.

"Come in, Y/L/N."

The object of his misery enters.

"I'm going back to the hotel for the night, I came to see if you wanted to ride back with me." Saying it confidently, not worrying he'll know your true desires. He almost objects but can't resist, especially not when he's made the decision to tell you before it's too late. To tell you he loves you.

"Give me a few minutes, I'll meet you outside."

"Got it," you smile genuinely, pleased that he agreed.

Checking into the hotel, the owner gives you a key, saying it's their last available room. Not a problem, you think. You step into the elevator and notice a hitch in Hotch's breathing.

"Y/L/N, I need to speak with you regarding something."

He cringes at his own words. How formal does a goddamn love confession need to be? This is stupid, what is he even doing?

"I'm not in trouble, am I?" you laugh, unlocking the room. He doesn't respond but one thing catches your eye when you walk in. You turn to face Hotch and your face is mere inches from his, able to feel the heat of each other's body.

"Hotch," you breathe out your words, low and shaky, feeling the tension you'd convinced yourself you'd been imagining all this time. "There's only one bed."

"That there is." He says calmly, not breaking eye contact. With a small burst of confidence, you place a hand on his rising chest.

"What'd you want to talk about, Aaron?" He almost moans just at the way his name sounds on your precious lips.

"This," he growls. You don't resist when he grabs your face to mash his lips against yours. In fact, you throw yourself on top of his and deepen the kiss. Without breaking the kiss, you push him onto the bed and straddle him. You take grip of his shoulders and he wraps his hands around your waist. He grunts and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, attacking his with yours. Hotch tilts his head to have more access to your mouth and you feel his growing bulge against your thigh. You throw him down and smirk as he stares lustfully.

"Is this what you want Aaron?" you tease. He doesn't give you an answer, only exhaling and undoing his belt.

"Y/N, I need you." he pants, hungrily.

"Yes sir."

Pulling down his strained boxers with one swift movement, your mouth salivates at the sight of his already hard cock. His pink head glistens with precum and you bring your head down to swipe your tongue on it, making sure he's watching you.

"Fuck," Hotch moans, grasping a handful of your hair. You slide your mouth down on his cock, moaning against him and stroking what you can't fit with your hand. A long noise escapes him and he grips your head tighter while you bob your head up and down.

"Just like that baby, so good Y/N."

"Mmm," you hum, savoring every moan that travels from his mouth. Tears pricking your eyes, you take him down your throat determined to taste every inch of him, making him hum with delight. Cupping his balls in your hand, you work on him with your hands and mouth at the same time and you feel him near the edge. You pull your head up from him, a string of saliva connecting your lips and his dick.

"I was close," he mutters roughly. You lift your shirt over your shoulders and pull down your skirt, leaving you in your lacy white bra and panties set. Glad I wore something nice, you think. When he sees your body hovering over him, he's a man captivated. Rapidly, he unclasps your bra and takes in the view, starting to knead them sensually.

"Fuck me, Aaron." you command, somehow sounding sweetly. Hotch pins your wrists above your head and kisses you again, like he's waited his whole life to have you. He takes hold of your hips and moves your underwear to the side, holding his shaft to enter you. You moan in sync and he enters your pussy all the way.

"Aaron, fuck."

"You feel so good, baby." He praises.

"God yes!" you scream with his first thrust. "Fuck me as hard as you can, please sir."

You plead and Hotch complies. As he fucks you faster, moaning all the while, his hands tighten on you. You're sure he'll leave bruises for the morning but you don't care experiencing the pleasure you have right now. His fingers roll your nipple in his hand, pinching and squeezing lightly and he thrusts hard and passionate.

"I'm gonna cum," you warn and your pussy's blissful walls tighten around his nearing cock.

"Me too Y/N," he grunts. Exploding inside of you, he throws his head back messily and moans, pushing you over the edge. Your juices drip down your thighs and Hotch pulls out of you.

Breathing heavily, neither of you say a word. Only holding on desperately to any last drop of what you just did.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm in love with you."

You stare into his deep brown eyes, still floating internally and inhaling the smell of sex. You trail a hand down his firm arm. It wasn't in your head.

"I'm in love with you too, Aaron."

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Diego Hargreeves’ child

Diego Hargreeves x child!reader

warnings: knifes, blood, guns, death mentions, mental hospital

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Hi! Could you please write a “The Umbrella Academy” Diego Hargreeves x daughter reader headcanon? I always think Diego is such a overprotective softie dad ♥️♥️”

deigo really said “?????”

how dad

but also he’d just the most loving dad anyone could ever ask for

✨it’s because he was never loved by his dad✨

“hi cutie, i love you, i love you, i love youuuuu”

he locked away all his weapons so that you couldn’t hurt yourself on them

but he always missed a few and he’d turn around and see you holding throwing knives and just FREAK OUT

“no, no, no, you may not have those! knives are for big boys like me, not babies”

“give back”

“‘give back?’ are you nuts?”

diego has conversations with lil you as if you know what the fuck he means dhshshhshs

as you got older, you became more interested in his “career”

“no, i dont care if you have powers or not! you have a bedtime, that means no vigilantism, you hear me?”

“if i say ‘no’ can i be a vigilante?”

“you know what? how about you clean up the gym for al so he doesn’t evict us?”

you did not sign up for this

you really wanted to meet your aunts and uncles, but you weren’t exactly sure they knew about you

i mean, you knew you had a cousin but everyone knew about her because aunt allison was a goshdarn celebrity

“dad, i want to meet the family!”

“no you don’t”

end of discussion

despite having a bedtime, you still watched movies late at night with your dad

he really liked marvel movies

“come on, that would never happen!”

“you come from a family of superpowered kids, a robot mom, and a monkey, and you’re upset about...a guy that shoots arrows?”

“maybe i am, what’re you gonna do about it?”

you ask about umbrella academy stories a lot, you your dad usually makes it about him

“and then i punched that guy in the face! and then i stabbed him in the leg because he was a dick! bet you’re friend’s dads arent as cool as me”

*yawning bc you’ve heard this story a million times*

you go to public school

you do have your dad’s last name

which occasionally gets recognized

“woah! wasn’t your dad a superhero?”

“i have no idea what youre talking about” :)

practicing your knife throwing while diego is away, him coming home to find his knifes stuck through various targets

so proud but he had to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself

you actually had to learn how to patch him up because he did come home a bit battered and bruised several times

“im okay, y/n. no need to freak”

“dad, there is literally blood dripping on the floor will you just sit down and stay still for five goddamn minutes?”

“woah, who the fuck taught you to cuss?”

watching the news at home when your grandfather was reportedly dead

you were actually very upset because you wanted to meet him so bad

even if he was a dick

your dad came home silent and you knew he knew

“you okay?”

“oh, yeah, im better than okay!”

finally getting the chance to meet your family

“who are you?” -allison

“im, uh, y/n. diego is my dad”

*jaw dropping*

and you know what? that happened four more times (plus ben but you didn’t get to see that)

“and you are?” -luther

“who’s the...the little one?” -klaus

“well, what do you know? diego’s a dad” -five

“don’t tell me that’s...no way” -ben

“you’re diego’s? wow, i can’t believe he didn’t tell anyone” -vanya

“i...i know who all of you are” -you

diego bragging about how perfect you are while everyone simultaneously rolls their eyes

“well, y/n, maybe one day we’ll schedule a playdate for you and claire” -allison

“‘playdate?’ how old do you think i am?...but yes i wanna meet her”

“god, you’re so much like diego, it’s unsettling”

you had been secretly training at al’s gym during your dad’s late night activities

so when trouble came your way, you were able to handle yourself pretty well

“where the hell did you learn that?”

“al showed me a few moves!”

“that old man? you’re kidding”

you met your grandmother, grace, who was tasked with keeping you safe at all times

you actually loved her sm

but there was something a bit off about her

besided the fact she was a robot

klaus snuck you out so that you two could have BoNdInG tImE

it wasn’t all bad

ben was a lil choked up that he got to meet one of his niblings

“they’re perfect”

“they just stabbed someone, buddy”

“who are you talking to?”

FIVE EVEN SCHEMED WITH YOU

“okay, y/n, i need you to curve something when i throw it, got that? right at that security guard”

“what are you throwing?”

“you’ll know when you see it, make your uncle five proud”

“IS THAT A GUN”

<3 family

running into patch!!

“hey, kid, i just saw your dad. i thought i told you to handcuff him to the radiator when you were away?”

“yeah, well, he wouldve chewed his hand off so here we are”

that was the last time you saw her :/

well, your dad was now a wanted man

“what happened to your arm?”

“no”

you actually didn’t expect this family reunion to go south like this

wait—yes you did

vanya has powers????

“i thought vanya was the one without powers?”

“yeah. so did we.”

diego straight up did not want you anywhere near that

but you, again, were his child and also fuck authority you do what you want

the vibe is almost getting shot several times

by hazel, cha cha, and “commission” guys?

going 2 ur auntie’s concert 😌✨

“y/n, hide in the bathroom and stay there until i come get you”

“dad, i love you, but no”

“y/n, i love you too, but yes”

“no”

“yes”

“NO”

“YES”

you won

but in the end (or not so much) you time traveled to...1961?

without any of your family

“this is...this is not good”

understatement of the year(s)

what was a kid like you gonna do in dallas, texas in 1961

no seriously, what

it was rough, but you managed to survive on your own

and open a paper in 1963 to find a mugshot of your dad

“son of a—”

visiting dad! (two years later)

“y/n? oh my god, y/n! shit, i missed you so much! why do you look different? you’re bigger, oh god. how long have you been here?”

“2 years, dad. you?”

his hair was so LONG

“2 months”

“christ, that’s it?!”

“i have to stop jfk from being assassinated”

“what makes you think that’s a good idea???”

“its the right thing to do, wanna help?”

“shit, i guess. as long as i dont end up here”

“no promises, people in the 60’s are crazy”

diego: 👁👄👁

you: 👀

running into five on the street soon after

“uncle five?”

“no time to talk”

“okay, asshole? i’ve been here for 2 years and you dont care?”

“two years, huh? i spent 45 years in a post apocalyptic world as a 13 year old and beyond”

“i didn’t say it was a competition, dude. you kinda dropped us all at different times. at least, me and dad. he—”

“is trying to kill lee harvey oswald, i know. come with me”

finally running into your other aunts and uncles, who were so excited to see you

you ran into their arms and they picked you off the ground and you felt closer than ever after only knowing them for 10 days

dad broke out

lila too

“im your new mom!”

“you’re what?”

diego dragged you along with him almost everywhere

he had missed you so much, but he keeps forgetting you kinda grew up without him for a while longer

meeting grandpa :)

“a grandchild, huh? how unfortunate”

“bitch”

“what did you just call me?”

“a bitch.”

your dad and basically the entire table trying to hold back laughter

reggie was stunned

cold hearted just like him <3 he didn’t know if he was offended or proud

this is so confusing

diego just disappeared off the face of the earth

and assassins were on your case

“the goddamn swedes are back oh shittt im gonna die”

“y/n, just curve their bullets”

“it’s not as easy as it sounds, klaus!”

you were doomed

theres too much to go over

apparently you died on a farm????

and then you didn’t??????

and your dad was almost apart of the commission

“hey, you okay, y/n?”

“i would like to take a nap please”

“yeah, me too”

“me three!” -klaus

yeah it was never that simple 😌💕 the end

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @cullens-stuff // @lotsoffandomrecs // @takethebladeawayfromme // @that-nerd-tessa // @teenwaywardasgardian // @spidergirla5 // @sheridans-dynamos // @freya-xo // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @jay-is-groovy // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @abbiesthings // @thereagles // @ofthedewthesunlight //

[mizunetzu]

Can you do Daichi x male reader where Daichi asks his boyfriend to come over to meet his team and he forgets and goes home so Daichi give him a call and is like "where you at?" "I cant come I look like a clown." "I bet you dont look that bad." "No you dont get it im in full drag." So his boyfriend comes to the gym in full drag, booby and butt pads, and monster heels, and when he walked in it's like Kags that recognizes him as his drag name.

LMAOOJSKE DRAG QUEEN READEKRNRNF

——————

Daichi x reader - DRAG QUEEN?!

⚠️warnings - drag queen, college first year reader x high school 3rd year (if that’s even a warning skdjd)

Pronouns- male, he/him

——————

Daichi said it on impulse, really.

“Do you guys...wanna meet my boyfriend?”

Everyone in the gym stopped. They were in middle of a practice match between themselves, and just when Yamaguchi was about to serve, he choked on air and missed the ball completely. The ball flew in the air, before landing somewhere near his feet.

Everyone stared at Daichi with a variety of expressions. Some shocked, some looking at him like he ‘said I’m gonna chop my dick off,’ and some who didn’t even care. (Tsukishima, obviously.) Ukai had to call timeout, since no one could focus after what Daichi blurted out.

Suga chuckled awkwardly, slinging a towel over his shoulders. “So uh, ahaha, your um...gay...?” His voice progressively died down into a whisper.

“Yeah. Is...that’s a problem?”

“No! No! I fully support y-“

“AND YOU CHOSE NOW TO TELL US? DUDE, WE COULD’VE LIKE, THROWN YOU A COMING-OUT PARTY!” Tanaka shook his captaincy the shoulders, while Noya squirted water into his mouth with his squeeze bottle.

“Well I don’t really mind, I’m already out, I was just asking if you wanted to meet him.”

“DO WE?! OF COURSE WE DO! DOES HE PLAY VOLLEYBALL?! DO YOU THINK HE COULD JOIN THE TEAM?!” Hinata jumped up and down, slowly inching is way towards Daichi with an awestruck look on his face. He’s rather surprised Hinata isn’t more shocked.

“Yeah. Uh-no, sorry. He doesn’t play.” Daichi chuckled, patting an excited looking hinata on the head. “I don’t think he has work tomorrow, so tomorrow’s really the only time he can come to practice.”

“Work?” Asahi looked up from the towel he was using to wipe off his sweat. “How old is he? Is he a third year?”

“He’s a first year in college. Actually-I think he goes to the college in Sendai.”

Asahi exhaled. It would’ve been weird if someone as young as a highschooler were to already be working, when the could be enjoying their time in classes or clubs. “Where does he work?”

Flashbacks of all the drag shows and money being thrown around a stage whipped across Daichis mind like a slap to the face. He’s sure the team wouldn’t mind, especially because they already don’t mind him having a boyfriend, but he isn’t sure if (Y/n) was ok with him telling his team he was a...y’know.

“...I’m not sure?”

————

“Oh-hello Daikkun! How was practice today?” (Y/n) opened the passenger seat to his door, waiting for him to step inside. Sometimes he liked to pick him up from school before he had to get in makeup for a night show. That didn’t stop him from doing a little bit of eyeliner, though.

“It was nice. I told them they could meet you soon. The team.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, you don’t have any shows tomorrow, right? I kind of told them tomorrow.” Daichi scrubbed at the back of his neck, while (y/n) started up his car. “I know you’ve wanted to meet them.”

“You bet your ass! Well-I mean I have a show at like 2 am but that doesn’t matter. What time can I come? Are they nice? Didn’t you say there was one who was really short but could jump as high as me in stilettos?”

“Oi-! Focus on the road!”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m just excited. Anyways! Can you come to my show tonight? I’ll sneak you in.”

“Every time I go to one of your drag shows I get scared someone will kick me out since I’m 17.”

“Dude, have you seen yourself?!” (Y/n) gestures over to Daichi, putting emphasis on his thigh-region. “You’re big and muscly enough to at least pass as 18. It’s just a one year difference, when’s your birthday again?”

“I can’t believe you forgot, I’m hurt.” Daichi chuckled, fiddling with his backpack straps on his lap. “Besides, doesn’t your show run kind of late today? I don’t get to choose when to take my classes like you, (L/n). And I have morning practice, so I need to sleep.”

“You’re no fun, Daikkun.”

“Yeah, yeah, My house is over there.”

————

(Y/n) scrolled through his phone for the nth time that day. Fanning himself dramatically, he huffed and buried his face into his pillow. There was nothing to do today, and since he took morning classes, that left him with the rest of the afternoon to ponder, before working at night.

Was there something to do today? Was he forgetting something? He felt like he was, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

He glanced guilty at a tube of light pink lip gloss tossed haphazardly on his desk. A light bulb went off in his head.

Hastily throwing his covers off his body, (y/n) dragged himself over to his closet, grabbing the lip gloss in the process. He shuffled through hangers of clothes, finally pulling out a girls uniform he bought from when he was in high school. He never wore it to school, choosing to wear the boys uniform, but he thought it’d be nice to have when he was feeling fruity.

Slipping on the skirt and cardigan, he walked over to his desk mirror. He unscrewed the wand from the tube of lip gloss, tentatively applying it generously to his lips. He shrugged. He figured he could do some more makeup. It’s not like he’s busy today, right?

Carefully winging the tip of his eyeliner, he took a step back and admired himself in the mirror. He looked cute, yeah, but cute wasn’t really his style. It screamed ‘cute femboy’ rather than his usual ‘sexy ass drag queen dominatrix who could step on you with their sharp ass knife heels’

Damn. He was really about to go all out, huh? Time to bring out the butt pads and fake boobs.

————

Sighing contently in front of the mirror, (y/n) did a little spin, puffing out the length of his dress. Damn, he was hot. And with his impossibly high monster heels? Take me now.

(Y/n) was in the midst of taking a couple cute selfies in front of his full length mirror, when his screen went grey and a caller ID appeared.

‘Incoming call - Daikkun!! <3’

(Y/n) smiled unconsciously and clicked the bright green button with his thumb. He brought his phone to his ear and twirled a piece of his faux wig with his finger.

“Hi Daikkun! Did you need something, cutie?”

“Are you still coming over?” Daichis voice was hushed, and the slam of volleyballs rang though his speaker.

“Uh-what for?”

“To meet my team? Where are you?”

Fuck.

(Y/n) paled as he eyed himself in the mirror. He couldn’t show up looking like that. And it was too much to take off before Daichis practice ended. This was the only time he had to meet this team Daichi had always been talking about, and he’d completely forgot.

“...I can’t, I look like a clown.” (Y/n’s) voice came out a hoarse, nervous-chuckly whisper. He could taste the expensive red lipstick sitting on his lips.

“I’m sure you don’t look that bad.”

“Dude no, you don’t understand.” (Y/n) picked at the hem of his dress, the silicone boobs suddenly squeezing his chest a bit too tightly. “I’m in full drag.”

A silence rang out from both sides of the line. Daichi awkwardly chuckled.

“Ahaha uh-didn’t you say you didn’t have work today?”

“No! No I-I don’t have work til like-later later but like-I got bored and I forgot I was gonna meet your team today...sorry-“

“Well I’m sure they won’t mind if you show up in drag. I mean-they seemed pretty ok with knowing we’re a thing so...?”

(Y/n) gulped.

“...I guess I’ll see you in ten minutes then.”

—————

“Good work everyone!”

Ukai dismissed the players, leaving them to start rolling up the net and cleaning up the gym. Sugawara jogged up to the captain, dragging his mop lazily behind him.

“You said your boyfriend was gonna come today, right? Where is he?”

“Uh,” Daichi checked his wrist, before realizing he didn’t have a watch and fished out his phone. “He should be here any minute now-“

Just in time, the doors to the gym creaked open. Daichi smiled, leaving Suga to trail behind him curiously. He reached for the door handle, giving it a firm pull.

In stepped a boy with a long synthetic wig on, and heels that made him tower over Daichi easily. The sharp platforms of his heels clicked with each step he took, jewelry and accessories also bobbing up and down. And not to mention the ‘bobbling’ the silicone boobs made. Jeez, even if they were fake, they did still jiggle a hell of a lot.

(Y/n) bent down daintily, pressing a kiss onto Daichi’s cheek. Lipstick smeared on his sweaty cheek, leaving a dark imprint on the side of his face. (Y/n) seemed to finally take notice of all the astonished stares directed at him.

Should he A, stand beside his boyfriend awkwardly and pick at the loose thread of his dress or B, put on his confident drag persona and play it off?

He chose B.

(Y/n) smirked and leaned on on of his feet, placing a hand on his hip. “What? Like what you see, boys? I’m afraid I’m already taken, though.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck. Fuck. Even with the confident display, (y/n) couldn’t help but stay somewhat behind Daichi, trying to shrink behind his 10 inch heels.

Immediately, a bald guy and a kid with a bleached strip on the front of his head erupted into excitement.

“Yo! Sick dress, dude!”

The atmosphere lightened up tremendously. (Y/n) let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Well thank you, Mr. Bleach strip.”

The bald one, who introduced himself as ‘Tanaka’, slapped Daichi on the back. “Dude! What’s with all the surprises?! You tell us you have a boyfriend but you didn’t tell us he was a drag queen?!”

“I-to be honest I didn’t know he was in drag today-I didn’t know he had work.”

The closet door opened, with Hinata and Kageyama walking out from placing the net inside. Hinata gasped excitedly, while Kageyama froze. Hinata practically bolted towards the unknown person wearing heels and jumped up to his height. (Y/n) choked on air. This kid practically flew at him.

“Wow! Are you one of those ‘drag queens’ I see on tv sometimes?! Cool! That’s so cool! I-“

“ARE YOU QUIMCHI?!”

Hinatas throat closed up, along with (y/n) after hearing his stage name being called out so...dramatically. The boy continued.

“...F-FROM THAT ONE INTERVIEW THEY DID ON THAT ONE CLUB ON THE LATE NIGHT SHOW WITH SHIN’ICHI HATORI?!”

Kageyamas booming voice rang through the gym as he pointed at (y/n) with wide eyes. Everyone’s gaze went from (y/n) to Kageyama, who was frozen in place. Even (y/n) was a tad bit confused.

The club he worked at recently had a special done on TV, and (y/n) was only in the background. He didn’t know how this...boy recognized him from that, or why he was even watching the drag special on that show in the first place.

“...yeah...yeah I am,” (y/n) smiled awkwardly and a boy with blond hair and glasses chuckled from somewhere in the gym.

The boy, with another guy with dark-green hair, walked out from the storage closet aswell. “Who knew the king was into that kind of stuff? Drag queens? No disrespect, ma’am-sir.”

Kageyama seemed to unfreeze just to glare at Tsukishima with a flushed face. “I-IM NOT! MY STUPID SISTERS JUST A BIG FAN, IS ALL!“

Kageyama turned to (y/n), and marched scarily fast towards him. He stopped abruptly and bowed his head so far it made (y/n) take a step back.

“M-MAY I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH FOR MY SISTER?! AN-AND MAYBE A PHOTO TOO?!” Kageyama stiffly held his arms to his sides as he kept his head down. Small chuckles and snorts sounded from all around the gym, (y/n) even joining in and patting the black haired boys head.

“Sure thing, doll.”

————

“Your team was nicer than I thought.”

Daichi looked up questionably, fastening his seatbelt. (Y/n) started up his car. “What do you mean, nicer?”

“Well-I thought they were gonna be a bunch of meatheads banging their heads together. They’re actually more interesting than I thought they were going to be. Especially that Kageyama guy.”

Daichi smiled contently. “I’m glad you like them, then.”

A comfortable silence breezed by them, the only sounds audible being the hum of the car engine and the soft tapping of Daichis nails against the armrest. Daichi stole a glance at (y/n). His wig was discarded, placed neatly on the backseat with the wig cap and hairpins resting underneath it, and his hair was slightly damp and messy due to being constricted. His lipstick was a bit smeared from when he kissed him on the cheek, and droplets of sweat gathered near his hairline.

Daichi set his fingers lightly on the spot where the lipstick mark sat, caressing it softly so the lipstick wouldn’t smear more that it already has. He exhaled softly and shifted his gaze back down. He wouldn’t mind if he came to his practice again.

“...so wanna come to my show tonight, Daikkun?”

“It’s at 2am, no.”

—————

Extra:

Kageyama: miwa.

Kageyama: MIWA.

Miwa sighed and checked her phone, sliently scolding her brother for bothering her. She stretched and rubbed her eyes. She swore, if Tobio wanted a ride home from practice...

Miwa: mm

Kageyama: -photo sent-

Miwa: DUDE

Miwa: AJDJSKDKF

Miwa: HOW THE FUCK

Miwa: TELL ME YOU GOT QUIMCHIS AUTOGRAPH DJFJDJE

Kageyama: -photo sent-

Kageyama: I DID. I GOT ONE FOR U AND ONE FOR ME

Kageyama: HE WAS SO TALL TOO

Kageyama: LIKE HE WAS A HALF FOOT TALLER THAN ME EVEN WITHOUT THE HEELS

Miwa: WHY WAS HE AT UR PRACTICE WHSHD

Kageyama: apparently he’s dating my captain

Miwa: WHAT RHE FUCKCIDNEBRJ

——————

[sharktoothedboys]

The Burning Questions

Just a little something I thought up while i was at work one day....

====================================================

You had always been a very inquisitive person, everyone knew this about you, but what they didn’t know was that you also had a filthy mind, but you usually kept the “adult” questions to yourself, especially when you were still in school, even more so now, you didn’t wanna be lumped in with Mineta as the creepy perv. 

Most questions you had these days were probably classed as a little pervy, but these days you also managed to keep 95% of all questions to yourself coming to conclusions by yourself and usually liking the outcome. 

Today it had been 10 years since you had all graduated from U.A and you were having your yearly meetup, at the usual place, usual time. You had kept in touch with most of your old classmates, but some you only saw this one time a year and maybe a few odd times you would run in to them through out the year so you treasured this night every time. Obviously you were still in touch with your childhood sweetheart/ now boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugo, and his friends had mostly stuck around, you saw Shoto quite a bit as you worked for Endeavour, and Jiro was your room mate, before you moved in with Katsuki, and she was your closest friend, the others you didn’t get to see nearly as much as you would have liked to. 

But this was great, everyone was here, drinks were flowing, dance battles were happening, food was in abundance and the laughter felt like it would never end. Until, it happened, a villain attack right on the venue your class had hired for the evening, smoke billowed in to the room and glass shattered all around you. Momo quickly created a bunch of eye goggles and masks to prevent inhalation of the gas, as it was uncertain if it was toxic or not. 

You all quickly switched in to hero mode, despite the elegant outfits you were all donning, right now all that mattered was to get this situation under control. 

“Shoto! Take Deku, Koda and Momo round back to check for any more villain activity! Kirishima, Mina, and Sato, check for casualties of staff and the public and get them all outside to safety immediately!” You began to automatically bark orders at people as Katsuki watched you from his spot at your side, a small smile gracing his lips. “ Everyone else be on high alert, ready to attack any moment.”

Everyone took their stance ready and waiting for what was to come next. Then you heard a sinister laugh as villains began to pile in through the broken windows and doors, You heard the explosion from the side of you as Katsuki jumped in to action, you felt the breeze zoom past you as Ingenium began to fight the guys barely able to make it inside. you smiled at how precise the class was now and joined in the fight, using Endeavours quirk to use hellfire against your attackers. 

The fight was finally winding down as most had been apprehended and the others choosing to flee, they attacked the wrong place. You called off your flames, and made your way over to where the majority of your old classmates had gathered, Katsuki spotting you and turning to face you with a smile. Just as he did he saw him, one last straggler of a scumbag, running towards you with all his might, he shot something from his finger tips, closely resembling a laser, and as Katsuki yelled to warn you it was to late, it hit you. But strangely you didn’t feel anything, you barely even realized you had been hit by anything. Katsuki blew the guy to hell for trying to hurt you and immediately turned back to you to ensure your safety.

“YN, Are you okay? did he hit you? Does it hurt anywhere?” He frantically asked as he examined you. 

“No, I am fine, I didn’t even feel it hit me, Maybe he didn’t have chance to activate his quirk fully when it hit me?” You replied, placing your hand on his chest to ensure his you were fine. 

“As long as you are ok Bear.” He said, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

The two of you made your way over to the others, thats when you felt it, an overwhelming urge questions just ready to spill out of you, you usually held everything in, but the closer you got to people the more you needed to ask them your burning questions.

“Kirishima!!” You began, knowing what you were about to say, but with absolutely zero way of stopping yourself... oh god... “ When you use your quirk does your dick go super hard too?” You clasped your hands over your mouth, that question had been burning at your soul since class 1A! “Do you use it when you are having sex with someone?” 

“WOAH!!”  He yelled, his cheeks going slightly red, “What the hell YN!?” 

“Sero!! Do you use your tape in the bedroom, like a kinky sex rope?”  

All eyes were on your now, all mouths open and slow blinks happening all around you, not all your questions were rude!! Where were the people you had real questions for!! The team you had sent around the back all started to reappear. Wondering why everyone was staring at you with wide eyes. 

“Koda!!!” You practically screamed as you ran over to him, “Do you think you could have controlled principal Nezu with your quirk when we were in school? Did you ever try it? I think we should go and try it.” 

“Erm whats going on?” Shoto asked cautiously. 

“I am not sure, she was fine two minutes ago and then all the questions started.” Katsuki answered, his hand going to your head to check for a fever. 

“Oh your hands are warm, can we use your quirk later in bed.” 

His hand slapped over your mouth out of embarrassment for the both of you. Slight smiles making their way to the faces of everyone who heard. You escaped his grasp and ran back to the others, the questions just spilling from your mouth like verbal diarrhoea. 

“Momo! Do you know how to make your own sex toys? I bet that saves so much money! Could you make me one?”

“Hey Sato! What do those lips do?” 

“Shoto! Are all your hairs split down the middle, are your pubes red on the left and white on the right?” 

“Deku did you tell Ochaco that you’re in love with her yet?” 

“Denki!! Have you every accidentally electrocuted yourself when you masturbated? Did it feel nice?” 

“Mineta, why are you such a gross perv?” 

“Shoji!! Have you ever had like, an 8some?!! Because you literally could!!” 

Katsuki finally got a hold of you and stopped you from just going around people asking them embarrassing questions, then he heard the laughter coming from the other side of the room, It was him, the one who had hot you with a laser. 

“YOU!” Katsuki yelled and marched over to him after handing you over to Kirishima who was to afraid to loos at you in case you asked him another question. “What did you do to her?” 

“Its my quirk sweetheart” He said in a sickeningly sweet voice, “She is gonna keep asking people questions she’s always wanted to know the answers to until she passes out from talking to much.” He laughs and Katsuki looks at you, mouth still covered by Kirishimas hand, they had to just wait it out then? He nodded over at Kirishima, who slowly lets you go. 

“Kirishima!” You say again and he winces. “Your hands are way softer than they should be, what moisturiser do you use?” 

He sighed with relief and as he went to answer you you had already wandered off, getting your phone from your pocket and dialling someone’s number. 

“Tamaki!!” You yelled down the phone. “What happens if you eat Pussy?” Then you just hung up. Dialling another  number straight away. “Shindo! What else vibrates!?” Hanging up again. 

Katsuki was literally turning the colour of Kirishima’s hair as you made your way around the room again. More questions just flowing from you. Making a mental note to call those two and apologise for you later. 

“Toru!! Have you ever done anything scandalous in public because literally no one can see you!!” 

“Ojiro!!! Have you ever spanked someone with your tail?” 

“Tokoyami!! Do you use dark shadow in bed? And is it classed as a threesome if you do?” 

“Jiro!! Can you plug your ear jacks into another person and hear their thoughts?!” 

You were getting breathless from all the questions you were asking. But you had so many more to ask. 

“Tsu!! I mean surely you know that I really wanna know what that tongue does in the bedroom right??” 

“Mina! Are you as dirty as I imagined you are, I kinda thought you would be like a dominatrix or something!!” 

“Katsuki!!!” You yelled, turning around, slightly dizzy now but this question you really needed an answer to, you stomped over, your vision darkening a little. “Will you ma.....” Darkness, you passed out, it was finally over. 

Katsuki jumped forward to catch you as you fell. Where you just about to propose? Did he hear you right? 

“Is she going to be okay?” Shoto rushed over and asked him as he moved hair from your face, your breathing was fast paced and you were sweating and warm. 

“I think she should be fine after some rest.” He replies

“I’ll contact my father and explain what’s happened, tell her she doesn’t have to worry about coming in tomorrow.”

“Thank you” Katsuki looked at him, they may not have always seen eye to eye, but he appreciated how much Shoto cared for your well being at work and in every day life, At least Katsuki knew you were safe while on patrol with Shoto. 

“I am going to get her home and rested up, I am sorry guys for the questions she was asking, I am sure she will be mortified when she wakes up.”

“Don’t worry about Bakugo, remember when Mina got his with the truth ray? Yeah that was kinda worse.” Kaminari laughs out as Mina hits his arm. 

Katsuki picked you up bridal style and got you home as quick as humanly possible. He wanted you rested, but he also wanted an explanation for the almost proposal. 

The next day you woke up, You felt like you had been hit by a bus and your throat was sore, you tried to picture what had happened last night, then it hit you, all the questions you had asked! All you dark questions you had harboured for years, you asked them all!!! You buried your reddening face into the pillows and screamed in to them, the sound muffled, but not enough for Katsuki to not hear you. He came i to the room, a cup of tea in hand as he made his way over to the bed and placed it on your dresser for you. You felt the bed dip as he sat with you, his hand laying on the small of your back. 

“Please tell me it was all a bad dream!” You practically begged and he wished he had that news for you. 

“Sorry Bear, It happened.” He said as he felt you cringe under his touch. “But please don’t worry about it, everyone knew it wasn’t you talking and they have all taken it in their stride.” 

“Really?” You asked quietly, emerging from your blanket and pillow nest you had buried yourself in to. “I just hope i can face them all again the next time i see them.” 

Katsuki laughed at you, handing you your tea, he looked at you lovingly as you blew on the hot beverage, taking kitten sips while it was still to hot. 

“I have a question though.” He said, sweeping some stray hairs behind your ears, You looked up at him, your puppy dog eyes making him melt a little as you just stared at him, “Before you passed out I think you almost proposed to me.” 

Your eyes widened and looked down, away from his glare. Remembering that’s exactly what almost happened.

“Nooooo. I am sure you’re mistaken,” You said, almost a whisper, as you continued to drink your tea. 

“Nope, heard it loud and clear.” He said with a smile. “ But I am glad you didn’t”

Your face dropped, He didn’t wanna marry you, you knew it, that’s why its been 10 years without even a sniff of a ring. You looked defeated and he saw your eyes begin to glaze over. He put his large hands under your chin and tilted your head to look at him properly. 

“I am glad you didn’t, because its my job to propose to you YN.” 

Your eyes shot up to look at him properly as his lips met yours in the sweetest of kisses, you felt him lean over during the kiss and grab something from his bed side table. He broke free of the kiss and there in his hands with a small red velvet box, He flicked it open and there sat the most beautiful princess cut diamond platinum ring you had ever seen, perfect and simple, just how you had always imagined. 

“Marry me? Dumbass. I love you so much, you and all your questions.” You felt your cheeks heat up and your eyes fill with tears. “I wouldn’t have you any other way, Please be mine, forever.” 

“I was always yours Katsuki.” You sobbed out as the tears broke free of your eyes and cascaded down your face.

“Is that a yes?” He asked.

“A million times yes.” You cried and threw yourself in to his embrace, tightly holding him as close to yourself as you could. The feeling of his butterfly kisses on your shoulder and neck as he squeezed you back. This was perfect. You thought to yourself. Just Perfect. 

He slipped the ring on your finger when you finally parted, and planted a slightly soggy kiss on your lips, soggy from a mixture of both your tears. 

“Lets go get breakfast.” He says, kissing your nose.

“Oh what’s for breakfast?” You ask. 

“Enough questions Babygirl, Oh and in answer to what you asked kirishima last night, he text me the answer this morning.” He smirks as he leaves the room. 

“Really!! What did he say?” You ask, quickly finding your feet and running to catch up to him. “I really wanna know that answer to that one!!” You begged as you caught up to him. 

“What do i get in returnm for telling you? Do i get to use my quirk in the bedroom?” 

You heated up, he could have cooked breakfast on your cheeks you were that hot. 

“I am kidding babygirl....unless....?”

“Tell me what he said and we’ll see!” You answer him, catching him off guard. 

“Yes, the hardness is all over, and yes he uses it on women all the time, happy now?”

“So happy!!” You yell in excitement. “Lets go make pancakes. Its a special occasion after all.”

You walk off in front of him as he smiles at your figure, not quite knowing if it was a special occasion because you were finally getting married, or if because you finally had your answer about Kirishima. Either way, he couldn’t be happier to have you by his side forever and always. 

=============================================================

Hope you guys enjoyed this!! Just a little fluffy fluff before i come along with chapter 2 of Lips of an angel and break all your hearts....

Please like and follow, love you all!!

[gagmebucky]

hiiii i wrote this awhile ago but took it down because i was 👉🏼👈🏼 embarrassed about it (because i do not have the skill to pull off peter parker) and sorta still am but everyone’s been so nice to me about it i thought the best way to repay the kindness by posting it for those who did like it 😅 (originally inspired by spider man 2 with andrew garfield but loosely set in the 2018 issue of the amazing spider-man.)

in which the guys are making fun of peter and accidentally see a video of him fucking you. (includes avenger!peter x girlfriend!you, peter’s pov, voyeur!steve and voyeur!bucky, a sex tape featuring d/s dynamics, bondage, praise kink, exhibitionism, unprotected sex.) 

do not repost.

—

Despite being twenty-one years old; a proper adult who lives with his high school sweetheart, a photographer doubling as a seven-year veteran vigilante in the dangers of New York, Peter Parker is still considered as a super-powered amateur to his seasoned peers. 

Nonetheless, given his success in countless battles in the state, country, world and even galaxy-wide, he more than qualifies to hold the title of Avenger; it’s official now. A laid-back induction ceremony and his very own identity card: a sturdy rectangle, shiny with full clearance and all. Yet, as an official member, his teammates still treat him like he’s that same goofy, out-of-his-depths sixteen year old.

To be fair, yes, his style of heroism isn’t the most serious. He favors levity in the face of danger, a cheeky flare with smart quips and an infuriating grin. Even after taking a beating from the worst of foes, his demeanor never wavers because in the end, he wins. The villains are slayed and the people are saved, even comforted by the boyishly confident way he works. 

But beyond that persona, he has grown into a skilled warrior. On that note, he wants to be regarded as such—at least, to a certain extent. The jokes and teasing, poking fun at his age or the shenanigans he gets himself into, don’t bother him. No, his playful wit handles it with relative ease, and he’s a good sport about it. The only thing that he’d want to see change is some recognition that he isn’t a naïve kid anymore and is fully capable of taking charge when needed.

With his recent acceptance into the gifted pantheon, he’s intent on making that known. The jesting can continue but he wants it to be with an understanding of his capabilities. Luckily, a perfect opportunity has presented itself to showcase his abilities: a training session. 

He’s late. And yes, he knows that’s probably not a good impression to make.

In his own defense, it isn’t technically his fault. He forgot that you, his personal alarm clock (amongst other things), left early this morning because you volunteered to help his aunt move. Four years of mornings and nights, he’s gotten used to—and prefers—your languorous wake-up call.

Without your reminder, he regains consciousness fifteen minutes after the scheduled time and ends up scrambling to the compound. In a flurry, he throws on his suit—unknowingly backwards, he realizes later—trips at least three times over his own footing before he finally springs out of the balcony with webbed bursts.

When he reaches his destination, Captain America and the Winter Soldier are unimpressed; mid-simulation, it powers down. Both super-soldiers whirl around to face him, fixing raised eyebrows at his disheveled arrival.

He adjusts his now front-facing suit and shuffles forward into the space with as much confidence as an interrupter can have. “H - hey, guys,” Peter greets sheepishly and manages what he hopes is a charming smile, absentmindedly fidgeting with his phone. “Lookin’ good for a couple of geezers.” 

Unfortunately, Steve Rogers is not charmed or disillusioned from the tardiness. “You’re late, Parker.” His arms fold, and he shakes his head when punctuating his disapproval with an echoing, “Again.” 

Thankfully, to his right, more relaxed and cool, Bucky Barnes steps up. “C’mon, Stevie. Y’can’t be that surprised,” he chimes in matter of factly, contrasting against his friend with amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. “What’d you expect with Parker?” He gestures at the younger superhero. “Kid’s gonna be late to his own wedding.”

(Beside the point, but worth noting, he will not be late to meeting you at the altar. That is, of course, if you accept when he pops the question. Which is going to happen relatively soon, considering he has the ring in his nightstand drawer.)

The consult seems to relax him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right and—Peter, you—seriously, man?!” Steve sputters the last bit when he glanced over to see him blatantly check the notification that’s vibrated in his hand (on the device that is ruled to be stowed away during training). “Now the phone?!” 

Even though he shouldn’t, being on thin ice with Cap and all (pun not intended), Peter’s gaze flickers down to see your contact name appear on the screen, and he can’t resist. While Bucky guffaws a laugh at his audacity, he’s swiping up to pull up your text thread. 

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:37AM: spider boyyyyy you’ll never guess what i found in a box labeled ‘peter’s junk’ ;;;)

peter, 10:37AM: those magazines are NOT mine and i don’t know how they got there.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: not quite but close, naughty boy

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: for a man who depends on keeping secrets and a penchant for home movies, you might ought to keep a lock on your phone unless you want someone to see me like this...

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: (video attached)

Immediately, he recognizes the pornographic thumbnail. One glance, and he’s remembering the first couple of times you guys explored the exhibitionism side of things. It was at the end of his freshman year of college and taped on a phone he thought he had lost. But he must've forgotten it at his aunt’s house, and she tossed it in the box until you came along. 

Although there’s been plenty more made, he recalls that one being a shared favorite, his especially. When long-distance duty calls, it was his go-to media. The angles, your face and body beneath the lights, the sounds it caught, you once asked if he considered switching to cinematography instead of photographer

Subconsciously, his teeth run over his bottom lip, feeling that blazing spark of desire igniting in the pit of his gut, partially at the memory and partially at what’ll happen once you guys can re-watch it together; his thumbs start typing away with that message.

“Peter!” Steve’s exasperated voice snaps, but to no avail—the real gall of the youngster, or the effect of you. His weight shifts toward his best friend, and he nudges him with his elbow. “Kids these days!” The hundred-something year old’s gaze cocks a brow back over. “Is that why you were late? Blowing off training to text your girlfriend?”

The text delivers with an audible bloop. Finally, his concentration gives, and he can look up, though his expression is clueless from the last minute. “Huh?” His brain registers what he missed, and he winces. “Sorry, Cap. My bad.”

Bucky chuckles. “Give him a break, Steve,” he faux comes to his defense, a teasing quality underlying his tone. “He’s young and in love. It’s not his fault he’s pussy-whipped.” He cracks him an antagonizing grin as Peter rolls his eyes. “He can’t go an hour without sending those little weird pictures with heart eyes, or she might not know he’s thinking about her.”

“As if you know anything about romance, old man,” he fires back and presses past them with squared shoulders, correcting him quite seriously: “And they’re called emojis, by the way. But that’s not what I was doing, if you want to know so bad.”

The brunette tilts his head thoughtfully, and small hackles arise for reasons he doesn’t understand, or pay attention to. “You know, I do want to know really badly,” Bucky decides and poses a question to his left, “Wouldn’t you, too, Steve? Aren’t you curious what his girlfriend sent that was so much more important than training?”

The blond mimics his actions and clicks his tongue. “Yeah, I am.” 

Peter’s eyebrows pinch while his skin tingles and the hair on the back of his neck stands straight up. “What—” Before his senses process it, one of the super-soldiers plucks his phone out of his hands and darts back beside his best friend. His jaw drops as he tries to follow after him. “Bucky, you asshole—”

“Some spidey senses, huh?” The Winter Soldier lifts it high over his head, utilizing his six-foot stature against his five-ten like elementary school bullies do and older siblings to their juniors. “Haven’t ‘cha heard about sharing with the class?” He laughs and practically stiff-arms him to squint up at the screen. “Aw, he can’t wait to see her. What’s it been, more than two hours since you two saw each other last?” 

Conceding to the height difference, Peter stops his physical efforts and diverts it to someone reasonable. “Cap, you gonna help me out here?” he addresses the entertained onlooker in the most friendly voice he can manage. 

“The kid’s got separate anxiety not just from his girlfriend but phone too, Buck,” Steve drawls with a lopsided curve of his lips. He side-steps Peter to stand next to Bucky, and for a second, he thinks he’s on his side despite the tease, but he simply adds a stern, “So be careful. You don’t want to break it, or Parker will have a fit.”

Peter crosses his arms and scowls. “Ha, ha,” he retorts dryly, only somewhat amused by their banter. He tilts his head up at them, and the duo look thoroughly pleased with themselves. “You know, you guys are kind of dicks.”

“No, we’re your mentors, kid,” Steve corrects with a wink and rests his arm on his friend’s shoulder. “This is a lesson. No phones—” He jabs his thumb back in reference to the device’s unlocked screen: “—when you’re supposed to be training.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky chimes in upon glancing up from his phone. “And a little advice, women don’t like clinginess. Try being a little more stern and see how that works for you. If you’re able to manage that. But I won’t hold it against ya if you can’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter patronizes with a bob of his head, biting back a response pointing out the hundred-something year old’s inexperience. Instead, he focuses on the electronic readily loaded up with some private content. With that, he decides to do the rational and mature thing and ask nicely. “Noted. So, uh, can I have my phone back now?” 

To his shock, Bucky merely flashes a smirk and his thumb scrolls half-heartedly over the thread. Thereafter, he leans toward Steve and raises his cell for him to see. “Oh, look, it’s a video,” he teases. “What could Y/N send that would take priority of training?” 

There’s an unspoken let’s see then a metal finger taps the play button. Before Peter can think, much less react, Captain American and the Winter Soldier are watching how he effortlessly renders his pretty little girlfriend into a cute nonsensical yet eager mess— 

In his point-of-view shot, the ratio holds in portrait view in a bid to capture every bit of you. Above you, the camera focuses on you and your beautifully debauched state beneath warm lighting where it’s unalienable that the camera was made for you. 

Your eyes are dilated brightly, desperate with desire as your lashes flutter up at him. A sheen coats your features and glistens like glitter at the highest points of your face while the shape of your face is framed by your stretched arms. 

Your wrists are bound over your head, splotched with expertly sprayed strong, white webs. The mesh sticks them together in a criss-cross, comfortable but nearly impossible to break out of, fixed in place atop his headboard. The tautness tugs a mild strain on your figure so your breasts are jutting out like an offering, and it’s obvious he’s taken advantage of it. Darkened marks adorn your glowing complexion, peppered across your décolletage with imprints of his teeth; including your nipples, sucked swollen and tender. 

The angle trails down until it reveals the sight of him mercilessly pounding inside of you. His better-than-average girth is sliding in and out of your tight channel; slicked in shared translucent essence, creaming around the base, your inner walls visibly clinging to his cock with every backward stroke. His hand splays on your mound, using his thumb to abuse your engorged clit. He easily keeps the sensitive nub pinned under his control despite your wildly twisting hips. 

Like the display, the soundtrack is equally obscene. Loud, your stuffed depths gush and squelch as skin slaps rhythmically. Your breathy, wanton moans overshadow both, drawn out whimpers, almost nonsensical other than the syllable of his name. A melody of neediness, you sound so fucking pretty, (depraved, like a whore, you once told him during your little film marathon with a sly smile), and for him specifically.

The frame pans upward and confirms you look just as good. A perfect mess, unhinged by the skilled ministrations of your boyfriend. Passion beads on your forehead like reflections off of a diamond. Panting, your lips are plumped from kissing parted with mewls of pleasure. 

“P - please—I need to—can I - I please—” You’re begging like the sweet little thing you are, incoherent babbling the result of his excessive edging. Of course, you know better than to give into the sensations ravaging you; instead you ignore your visceral desire and ask him for your release. “Peter, please!” 

A deep chuckle vibrates behind the camera as his big hand slides into view, trailing over your jiggling tits to the slope of your throat. “Maybe,” he says breathily and grasps the line of your jaw between his fingers. “Open your mouth first, babe.” 

No more preamble necessary, you follow his direction, your pink tongue flat over your Cupid’s bow. Immediately, a long string of his saliva drips into view and onto your taste buds; the vulgar act is accepted with a swallow and a quivering moan of, “T - thank you.” 

“Good girl,” he praises huskily, and the voiced approval has you visibly shivering. “Alright, then, pretty girl. Make it good for me, and c’mon—”

Before your otherworldly reckoning washes over you and his teammates can watch your bliss immortalized in film, Peter snatches his property back. 

Not much force is necessary as Bucky’s grip has been stunned loose. A dark expression permeates on young hero’s face but not because of embarrassment; if he was still nineteen or eighteen, he would’ve been mortified that his titular superiors caught a depraved glimpse of his sex life, on both his and your behalf. Rather than, there’s just a flit of annoyance when he folds his arms.

“Shit,” Bucky is the first to speak, exhaling the swear raggedly. His blue pupils have widened in obvious attraction, dilated dark, blinking rapidly as if it’ll help calm him down from the clip of you, his innocent seeming girlfriend, all ruined and begging. “Parker, fuck, I - I didn’t know you got down like that.” 

There’s a swell in his chest, pride beating steadily while he remains reticent-faced. He prefers you keep your bedroom activities secluded there. Yeah, he likes to be in control and you like to be controlled but it’s only in a sexual nature. Yet, their reactions—stunned, embarrassed and viscerally affected—surges smug satisfaction he’s never known before through his veins. 

Even the prestigious Captain America is bothered, though he may try to hide it. He clears his throat, a flustered pink coloring his cheeks. “Peter, uh,” he says, barely maintaining the confidence to look him in the eye after witnessing his girlfriend like that. “We - we shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that.” 

“Uh-huh,” is Peter’s response, a hint of a smirk curling on one side of his lips. “Why don’t you guys call me after you’re finished with your cold showers, and we can actually train. Until then, I’m gonna go to my girl who’s more than eager to handle mine.” He pauses. “Maybe if you guys ask nice enough, I might let her show you how well I’ve trained her.”

[farfromparker]

Kiss me through the phone | t.h.

Pairing: sub!Tom Holland x dom!Female Reader

Summary: With Tom in Morocco filming Cherry, you get creative when he calls wanting your attention. 

Warnings: Establish D/s relationship

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I just needed to write some smut alright? Major, major inspiration for this comes from my boy 😘😘 including some direct quotes of our fun together. It’s so much easier to think of things to say when I’ve got my very own muse. Feedback always encouraged and appreciated! 

The bar is loud around you, people buzzing and you laugh along with your friends, enjoying the night out after a hellish week. An incompetent boss piling on project after project would lead any sane person on a murderous rampage. It was really the best for everyone involved that you got a night out. To drink and relinquish responsibility for a mere 12 hours. 

You’ve just finished your third drink when your phone vibrates. You glance down. 

Tommy 💞 [swirling hearts emoji] 

Even after over a year together, your heart still flutters when you see his name appear on your phone. You unlock your phone and go to your messages. The text is simple:

Miss you.

He must have been watching though, waiting for the read designation because those three dots appear soon after you open it. You glance at the time, 10:13pm. It’s just past 11 then in Morocco. 

I got your snaps from earlier… are you still out?

Yeah… I can be home in 15 tho

You lick your lips, it’s harder to not bend to him when he’s away filming, his time is limited as it is. You don’t even wait for a reply, having decided he’s more important in this moment. You grab your purse, trying to push down the excited energy building in your stomach. Your phone buzzes again but you know it’s Tom, just telling you to stay out, to call him when you get home later but you’ve made up your mind already. You hug your friends, holding your phone in one hand and wiggling it once to emphasize your point. They all smile, they know, they understand. 

“Go have cyber sex with your boyfriend!”

“At least one of us is getting some action!”

“I’m living vicariously through you, please fill me in on the dirty details tomorrow.”

You laugh, winking at them as you push open the door and god you love your friends. The winter air bites at your skin and you walk hurriedly back to your flat. You pull your phone out, reading the text from Tom that’s seven minutes old now. 

No, stay out and enjoy yourself. I’ll still be up when you get home ❤️ [heart emoji]

Too late, already on my way home 😏 [smirking emoji]

The three dots appear immediately. 

Fuck, ok. Video when you get home.

And you would have, except he does first. You’re climbing the stairs to your place when you accept the call. 

“Needy.” You say, smirking as you take in his appearance. He’s shirtless, leaning forward, the shadows from the hotel lamps dancing across his face. “I’m not even at my place yet. I did say 15.”

He laughs, “Couldn’t wait I guess.”

“Yeah,” you agree, fingering the keys in your hand to find the one you need, “we both know you’ve got no patience.”

He goes to retort but you look him in the eyes, raising an eyebrow and he presses his lips together, nodding, surrendering. You push your door open and flick on the light, kicking off your shoes as you throw the lock closed behind you. You discard your purse on the floor and shimmy out of your jacket. 

Finally. 

“What are you doing, Tommy?” The sultry tone in your voice is not lost on him. 

He hesitates, licking his lips, “Waiting for you.”

You hum, “Are you naked?”

He nods and your eyes flicker to the movement of his arm. 

“Are you hard?” 

He swallows, mouth popping open slightly. You watch as his bicep flexes, “Gettin’ there.” 

You walk back to your bedroom, “Show me.”

And he does, like the obedient boy he is. He leans back, tilting his phone and you watch as his cock comes into focus. There’s some rustling and the camera drops onto the mattress so you’re staring at the ceiling. He curses and you laugh. He picks his phone back up shortly after and wraps his hand around his cock, smearing the lube up his shaft and getting it slick. He squeezes at the base before pulling up and thumbing the tip and stroking back down, slowly, teasingly. You can hear him suck in a sharp breath as he tries to mimic the way you touch him. 

You lick your lips, settling down on your bed, “Such a pretty cock, I miss it so much.”

He whimpers, “Fuck, it misses you too, so fucking much.”

The phone shakes a little as he reaches down and squeezes his balls, his stomach flexing under his touch. He goes back to jerking himself off, trying to keep the movements slow but he gets so turned on under your attention, knowing you're watching so intently as he plays with himself. 

“I can’t touch myself like you do. Fuck... I try but it’s just - I can’t,” his voice is breathier now.

“No,” you agree, “No one can touch you like I do, baby boy.” 

His hand speeds up as the pet name leaves your lips and you smirk but tut all the same. “I didn’t tell you you could speed up.” 

His fist halts, and you hear him take a deep breath, “Sorry, Miss.”

“Keep going,” you encourage. “Just keep it slow.” You watch as he starts to move his hand again. “Wish I was there with you Tommy. Wish it was my hand on your cock. I could press my lips to your neck, mark you, tell you how pretty you look, how pretty you sound when I -” his whines cut you off. You clench your jaw, his sounds going straight to your core. Your clit throbs and you can feel the wetness gathering in your panties. 

“My desperate little boy.” 

“I am. Fuck - Miss, always so desperate for you.” 

His breathing is heavier now, little gasps and swear words leaving his lips as he plays with himself. His stomach flexes into his touch, hips starting to move to the rhythm of his hand. He’s getting a little lost in the feeling, the phone moving and you see more and more of his face than his cock. 

And he looks beautiful. Eyebrows knitted together as he stares at you, glancing down to his dick every now and then. His mouth is open as he pants, tongue poking out to wet his lips. His buzzed hair lets you see him fully in the way his curls don’t. You can see the focused crease line on his forehead, can make out how red his ears are. You can see the small scars across his face, the stories they tell not hidden under his hair anymore. His naturally unruly eyebrow, all of it, all of Tom, so open and exposed to you. 

You swallow, not wanting to be a sap at a time like this, so you settle on, “My pretty boy.”

He blushes under your praise, under the possessiveness of your statement, swearing particularly loudly and it snaps you back into focus. You start to strip out of your clothes, your jeans first before you pull your shirt over your head. 

“My beautiful Miss,” he murmurs and both your heart and pussy swell at those words. 

You press your lips together and reach around to unclasp your bra, shrugging it off your shoulders. It’s getting hard to tease him and hold the phone though so you set it on your nightstand, propping it up and moving back so he can see more of you. 

“Hands off,” you command, enjoying the pathetic whine as he lets go of his cock. He’s flushed all over, splotchy across his chest and neck. 

“Now, you’re going to lay there and watch me play with my pussy, watch me cum, and you're not going to touch that pretty cock of yours until I tell you to, understood?”

His eyes hood, “Yes, Miss.”

“Good boy.” 

You start by rubbing your hands across your chest, squeezing your breasts and rubbing your nipples. Smirking as you see the lust take over his features, eyes so focused he barely blinks. You trail your hands lower, digging in with your fingernails before you push past the band of your underwear, fingers skimming across your clit as you tease it gently. 

Tom whines, wanting more. “Please,” he begs, “please show me.” 

You do, eventually. Stripped bare in front of the camera for him, your pussy wet, dripping down your fingers. He praises you, encourages you, wishing it was him making you feel like that. 

You cum quite quickly with his eyes on you, his words, begging, wishing he could be a good boy for you in this moment. To be the one making you cum. 

You take a few moments to come down from your high, to level out your breathing before you lock eyes with him again. 

“Turn over Tommy, lay on your stomach.”

He does as you ask of him, propping his phone up against one of the many hotel pillows so he can brace his body on the mattress. 

“Good boy. Now, put a pillow underneath you, I wanna watch you grind on it, wanna watch you fuck it. I know my little puppy is always so desperate to cum for me.”

He whines softly before he pushes himself up, acting quickly, fumbling as he situates the pillow between his hips and the bed. He hovers over it for a moment, getting himself set and there’s not a sight you like to see more than his hand on his cock. 

Once he’s comfortable, he lays the rest of the way down, swallowing as he looks up to you, waiting for direction. 

“Go ahead baby boy, slowly.”

He licks his lips and does as you command, his hips grinding slowly against the pillow. His eyelids flutter as he feels the friction along his cock. 

“Talk to me puppy, use your words. Tell me how you feel.”

His breathing hitches as you call him puppy again and you smirk, knowing how it affects him. 

“Feels good Miss, my cock is aching though. I’m so hard from watching you cum. And I know you want to see me cum. I wanna be good for you. F-fuck,” he whines, hips speeding up for a moment before he slows back down, knowing you didn’t tell him he could go faster. “My balls are so fucking heavy.” 

Your heart beats harder in your chest at his words. Your fingers first into the blanket wrapped around you. His dirty talk has always had such a hold over you. More than he'll ever realize. You look him over, drinking in his appearance. His face is flushed and his eyes are dark, flooded with desire. 

The muscles in his shoulders and biceps work rhythmically, flexing under his skin as he thrusts his hips. He’s got the phone titled so you can see down the length of his side. You watch as his ass cheek clenches. You’ve spent enough time memorizing his skin that you can practically feel him under your hands.

He whines louder and you look back at his face. He’s pleading silently with you and you tilt your head as you look at him. 

Twisting your lips together you taunt him, “Do you need more, puppy?”

“Yes! Please Miss, please.”

“Up on your hands, I wanna see your pretty cock. And you can fuck the pillow now, pet. Fuck it like it’s my pussy.”

He pushes himself up, spreading his thighs and bending his knees so he can angle his hips better and get the friction he’s dying for. You can see his cock now, watch as he grinds into the pillow. You can see the wetness of his cockhead, he’s getting wet for you. He always gets so wet for you. 

You can tell he’s getting close because he starts to ramble, needy for your approval. 

“I’m your good boy aren’t I, Miss? I wanna be your good boy. I am, aren’t I?”

“You are Tommy, always so good for me.”

His hips snap faster into the pillow, his head drops and you can hear his heavy breathing, his low moans and whines. He moves his body weight onto one arm and reaches down for the pillow. He bunches it, holding it in place better. You watch his hands flex, fingers digging in. 

The head of his cock is red, the foreskin rolling back every time he thrusts forward, and you’ve just cum but the need to again is building from watching him. 

“Please Miss,” he begs, lifting his head so he can see you again. “Please, can I cum? P-please can I?” 

You hesitate for a moment, watching him, drinking in his appearance, what he looks like when he’s desperate to cum. Brow furrowed, body tight and tense as he holds back, waiting for your permission. His body is glistening under the dull glow of the lamps. You lick your lips. He looks beautiful. 

“Yeah, Tommy. Cum for me, be a good puppy and cum for me.” 

His hips stutter and he whines, calling out your name as his stomach flexes, muscles tightening as he cums. Thick ribbons of cum spurt out across the pillow, some spilling out onto the bed. His fingers flex harder into a fist and your core clenches. 

He pants, chest heaving as he sinks down slowly. “Fuck… fuck Miss. I made such a mess.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to slow your heartbeat. “My messy little boy.”

And his face instantly heats up. He leans back up and grimaces as he looks at the pillow case, “Feel a little bad for the cleaning people.” 

You snort, “A little late now.” 

He scrubs at his face, laughing. “Yeah, yeah I guess it is. I’m gonna clean up. Don’t hang up!” 

“I’m gonna pee,” you shout back. You do, throwing on a baggy sleep shirt afterwards on your way back to your phone. 

Tom is already back, the room is much darker now as he’s turned most of the lights off and he’s snuggled up under the covers. 

“Wish you were here, or that I was there. Just - miss you,” he finishes. 

You nod, “Me too. But you’ll be back soon. 2 more weeks.”

He smiles, finding solace in that statement. “Goodnight, love,” he murmurs, fighting a yawn. 

You smile back, “Goodnight, Tommy. Dream of me.”

His eyes light up, “Always.” 

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