#I feel like the strain is really getting to him

[agent-sushi-fbi]

Selina sighed as she watched Bruce begin pacing her entryway. She knew that keeping this a secret would backfire one day, but was honestly hoping that she wouldn’t be in town when it did.

Dread filled her at the new knowledge her baby was in Gotham, a city she had tried so hard to keep him away from to protect him. What if Joker escaped and found him on the streets? What if he tried to go to the park and Nygma set explosives? Tim wasn’t in town and she didn’t trust anyone else in the family to finish the riddles quickly enough.

Thoughts swirled rapidly in her mind, anxiety bubbling in her stomach as she steadily sipped her wine. Acting indifferent right now was best, Bruce would pick up on and point out an different behavior. Thoughts running wild against her control, and yet Selina couldn’t help feeling a tingle of excitement rush down her spine at the possibility of meeting her son.

The little boy she held in her arms for a scant few hours before he was taken away. The little boy with the brightest blue eyes and thickest tuft of black hair on his head that most certainly gave her heartburn. The small dusting of freckles across his nose plagued her thoughts most days, making her wonder if he still has them or they only really show up in summer like hers.

“Selina.”

She tried not to outwardly startle at Bruce’s voice, too lost in her thoughts to notice he had stopped pacing and was now giving her the Batglare. But she knew him well enough after all these years. He may be putting up an intimidating front, but he was hiding his own shaking hands and nervous energy as much as she was.

“Bruce.” She tilted her head like a cat, taking another fortifying sip of wine. “Are we just saying each other’s names darling, or are there actually more words to your sentence?”

Bruce frowned, the mask he still wore pulling right across his features as he crossed his arms in front of him. Selina held back a snort at how it brought the mental image of Damian when he’s pouting.

Lifting her glass once more, she frowned at finding it empty and turned away from Bruce’s gaze to pour more wine. It was the only way to get through this conversation.

“Selina,” he started again, sighing heavily. “Why have you never told me about him?”

She was sure if he wasn’t wearing the cowl, his eyes would be baring all the hurt he was feeling and she would feel worse than she does now. Selina shrugged as casually as she was capable of before answering. “Well Brucie, you and I weren’t a thing back then. It was all ‘I am vengeance’ with you at the time, your crusade just started.” She watched the red wine swirl in her glass, unable to glance away from the beverage and face her consequences directly. “We were just a fling back then, neither of us were ready for kids—despite you adopting Dick—so I thought it was best to give him up.”

“But never telling me about him at least? You didn’t think I was owed the knowledge that I helped create a person?” Bruce’s voice was strained, the sound pulling on Selina’s heart in an uncomfortable way she didn’t like. Chugging a bit of the wine for courage, she finally turned around to face Bruce’s general direction.

Locking at his shoulder, she snarked at him. “Pretty sure I handled the creating thing, since I’m the one that carried him for nine-and-a-half months and all.” She smirked, raising the glass to her lips. “All you did to help was covered in less than ten minutes. A good ten minutes, I promise, but well I did the heavy lifting.”

“Selina.” He chastised.

“Bruce.” She copied.

He grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose, turning away slightly in frustration.

She knew they were getting nowhere, but admitting her biggest regret to the only man she’s ever truly loved in her life was hard. Most days she could barely admit to herself that in the basic sense of the word she was a mother. That she had a child who was half of her out there, living his life without her in it and hopefully happier for it. There were days she ignored the pangs in her heart so much that it would actually manage to slip her mind. That is until she came home to an empty penthouse in the middle of the night, sadness creeping in she had no one to wait for her. Or when Harley comes by on his birthday every year with Ivy to celebrate, whether Selina liked it or not.

Selina was a mother. But she was also alone because of it. She gave away her son. She pushed away Bruce. She didn’t let her herself get close with his kids. She couldn’t let herself be part of their family, despite their open arms, because of the guilt over giving away her son. Bruce’s son. Their son.

Letting out a shaky breath, she carefully set the glass down on the counter and gripped the edge of the marble for dear life.

“Take off the damn cowl and sit on the couch Bruce,” Selina shook her head snatched the wine bottle instead of her glass. Determined, she stormed towards her living room to curl up in her expensively soft couch and get this painful conversation over with. “We’re going to talk about our son.”

"Fifteen years ago you gave a child up for adoption."

"Well hello to you too," Selina purred, looking over at Bruce who was in his Batman attire, "How do you know about that?"

"Because the child is here in Gotham asking me for help."

Selina frowned, "He was adopted out of state-"

"Yes," Bruce cut in, "And his adoptive sister happens to be Comissioner Gordon's niece. She brought him to Gordon who brought them to me."

"What are you asking, Bruce?"

"The child's father wasn't listed on the birth certificate. Fifteen years ago…"

Selina gave a sigh and turned away from Bruce, heading for the kitchen. Bruce didn't hesitate to follow. She poured herself a glass of wine, taking a healthy sip of it before finally turning back to Bruce.

"Yes, he's yours."

"Dammit Selina."

[hoernypie]

Satoru's NNN

tags: bj

How long he lasted: 8 days

As November started you decided to make a little bet with him - if he wins No Nut November you'll be filling all his reports for the next month, but if you win - he'll get you whatever you want. When the first week passed you were surprised that Satoru lasted that long considering constant whining and dry humping you while he edged himself - making his situation worse.

As the second week of November just started, you found yourself eager and curious about the outcome of your bet with Satoru. On the eighth day of November, the tension between you two had reached a boiling point. His eyes were glazed over with a mix of desperation and frustration, and you couldn't help but feel a little bit of pity seeing him almost whimpering for your touch. Each day you wore skimpy clothes, making him even more frustrated as his underwear was constantly stained with precum from your teasing.

On the fateful eighth day of November, Satoru's self-control finally crumbled like the last cookie in a jar. After another round of your relentless teasing, dressed in a skimpy nightgown that left nothing to the imagination, you watched with a smug smile as he tightly gripped the cushion, pressing it tightly to his crotch, trying to take a deep breath, but it was pointless. His breath grew ragged and his eyes widened, the battle lost as he reached down and gave into the sweet release he had been fighting for a week. You had won the bet, and now it was time for you to pay up for that behavior.

The moment Satoru's grip on his self-control slipped away, a sense of victory and excitement washed over you. You had successfully won the bet and now had the power to ask for whatever you desired. As he sits there, panting and defeated, you chuckle, watching the reality of his loss sink in. "Well, well, it seems I've won," you said sweetly, placing hands on his shoulders, and sliding them down to his chest. "What will it be, Satoru?" His hands threw away the pillow, showing the enormous wet patch on his sweats. "Anything, just touch me or I'll die," he murmured with a pout at losing the bet, his voice strained. You bit your bottom lip, trying not to laugh. "Hmm, I'll think about it," you said playfully, leaving him in suspense. Little did he know, you were about to make up for this week, feeling bad after he tried so hard.

"Since you've suffered so much, I think I'll give you a prize for making it this far," you said while walking around the couch and kneeling in front of him. "But remember, this is just a small prize for enduring the first week, a consolation prize." Satoru's eyes snapped to yours, hope flickering within them as he nodded desperately. You reached up and gently began to slide down his sweatpants, his body tensing. As his erection sprang free from his wet underwear, you took it in your hand, feeling the heat and the throbbing pulse as he fought not to cum right now. You started to stroke him slowly, watching his face contort with pleasure as his hips jerked in response. "Satoru, better buy me something really nice," you said amused. He could only manage a nod, his eyes squeezed shut as he savored the feeling of your touch after his week of self-denial. With a smirk, you leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, tasting the salty precum that had gathered there. You felt him shiver and his hands grabbed the back of your head, pushing you further down as he lost himself in the sensation that he missed badly.

Your hand glided over his shaft, stroking it with just the right amount of pressure to keep him on the edge, but not push him over. "Let's see how long can you last" you whispered, your breath tickling tip as you took more of his length into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. Satoru's moans grew louder, his grip on your hair tightening as he fought to follow your command. You felt the vein on his cock pulse against your tongue, and the taste of his pre, made you want more. You hadn't felt that powerful in some time while controlling his pleasure.

Satoru's hips began to buckle involuntarily, his body desperately seeking release. His whimpers grew louder as you maintained your gentle but firm rhythm, each stroke, and suckle bringing him closer to cumming. His eyes rolled back, his grip on the couch cushions tightening as his hands left your hair, his fingers digging into the fabric. His breaths came in short, stuttering gasps as his body tensed, fighting against the overwhelming pleasure. "Ah, fuck," he murmured, his voice hoarse and desperate. You looked up at him, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you increased the tempo of your strokes, feeling his cock swell in your mouth. His legs quivered, and his body arched, his movements growing more erratic as the dam of his self-control began to crack. You could feel his climax approaching. The room was filled with the sound of his ragged breathing and the wet, suckling noises of your mouth as you brought him closer and closer to the edge.

Feeling Satoru's precum mixed with your saliva, you decided to push him just a bit further. You slid your mouth down his dick, taking him all the way in until your nose was nestled in his soft pubic hair. Your throat constricted around his cock, and you swallowed around the thickness of him, making him buck his hips upwards. His moans grew more frantic, and you felt his cock throb heavily in your mouth, the precum flowing like a river as you teased the slit with the tip of your tongue. You pulled back slightly, licking along the underside of his shaft before returning to the head, sucking hard. You watched the muscles in his abs tighten as his orgasm built, and with a final, deep suck, you felt him filling your mouth. Satoru's entire body tensed, his cock pulsing as he released his week-long pent-up hot cum down your throat. You swallowed eagerly, the warmth and taste, making you crave more. As his orgasm subsided, his body went limp, and his hands fell away from the couch. You pulled back, licking your lips with a satisfied smile, knowing that his defeat had been sweet, but your true prize was yet to be claimed.

[lqveharrington]

Golden Snitch | D.M.

summary: You don’t tell Draco what you’re dressing up as, and when he sees you, he can’t help but be enamored.

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

includes: kissing, underage drinking, talks of sex, cursing

a/n: holding a poll for a similar imagine but a different character! (will post the other imagine in two days and poll in three!)

Halloween was a big thing at Hogwarts. Each house held their own parties and own costume competitions; There would be snacks — courtesy of the kitchen elves — and drinks smuggled in from home or Hogsmeade. It was one of the best nights throughout the school year.

From your fourth year to your very last, you enjoyed every single second. Of course, you were dressed differently every year in hopes to win the costume contests. You were the Corpse Bride, then Dorothy, then a pirate. But this year, you chose something a little closer to Hogwarts itself.

“You know we have to get down there now if you want to be in the competition, right?” Pansy flicked her hair back and adjusted her Cher outfit.

You huffed and finished the last bits of gold adorning your cheeks. You loved Pansy, you really did, but jesus, she was a stickler to rules and schedules sometimes.

“Look, I’m done now.” You dust your hands off and arrange your golden wings to be more presentable. “How do I look?”

“Hot.” Her eyes roamed over your body and winked at you. “Draco will totally drool.”

You send her an amused smile before rushing out the dorm hand in hand. When you got to the Slytherin common room, everyone and everything was already upbeat. The lights had been dimmed even more and green lights were casted all around. The floor was sticky in spilt drinks and the room reeked of sex.

"Let's go get drinks!" Pansy shouted over the loud music and elbowed her way through the mass of Slytherin students, gagging when one couple was getting too intimate on the dance floor. "I am so happy you and Draco have boundaries!"

You roll your eyes at her and grab a plastic cup, filling it with firewhisky and downing it fast enough to forget what Pansy had said. She gave you an unimpressed look and took her own shot.

After joining the infamous costume contest and winning, mingling with the others and downing more drinks, a fifth year finally announced the arrival of the Slytherin Prince himself. And the party only got rowdier from there.

The second the blonde stepped into the common room, drinks were shoved into his hands; A courtesy of Blaise. Draco made his way over to the group of seventh years he deemed his friends since childhood before his eyes landed on you.

His eyes roamed across your body. From the golden makeup adorning your gorgeous face to the golden dress that hugged your curves and accentuated them, it was like he fell in love all over again. He watched you down another drink and shook his head in amusement. You looked so confident and happy and excited and ethereal in what you wore that he wanted to keep you all to himself.

“Well, what do we have here?” His free hand found its way to the curve of your hip and pulled you close to him, smirking when your eyes get blown wide at his sudden presence. “You look ravishing.”

“I know. I won the competition like always.” You brag as you murmur and wrap a hand around his tie, softly tugging on it so you could meet his lips without needing to strain. “And who are you supposed to be?”

“James Bond.” He pulled you even closer, wanting to be completely flush against you. “But I should’ve worn my Quidditch uniform because I believe I have my eye on the golden snitch.”

The smile that graced your lips practically emits warmth when you realize Draco knew what you were. “You should probably keep your sight on her because she’s not straying far.”

“Better not.” He planted a mind searing kiss to your lips and thumbed the costume, parting when he felt how rough it was. “Your dress feels uncomfortable to the touch, love. It’s not real gold, is it?”

“No, not all of it. Daddy wouldn’t let me get one.” You sigh as you lean your head on his chest and hiccup when he pats your ass softly at the remark.

Draco could practically see the flashing signs around you saying how plastered you were, and it was truly entertaining at the most. He knew you were drunk when you flaunted your father’s money around, which you typically never do. He finished his cup before tossing it somewhere, holding your hip with two hands now.

You look up at him at the movement, wide eyes only reflecting your pupils. “What?”

“Nothing, love. Just admiring.” He scanned your body once more and planted a kiss to the top of your head. “How many drinks have you had so far?”

You shrug and gasp when someone poured a fresh round right behind Draco. “Let’s go get some more!”

He shook his head and locked his arms behind you, “No more for you. You are so fucking drunk.”

“I am not!” You huff and almost stomp your golden heel on the ground like a spoiled child. “Blaise and Pansy are! They’re practically fucking behind you!”

Draco pursed his lips and pulled you away from the center of the common room. It was funny how only during Halloween you would be more drunk than he was. Any other time, he would be absolutely plastered and ready to throw you over his shoulder for some quality time in the bedroom. Besides, he was also drunk, but not as drunk as you were at the moment.

“Hey—!” You whine and stumble up the staircase to his dorm. “Where are we going?”

“You’re done for tonight, my love.” He opened his shared dorm and quickly shut it behind him, quieting the room from the loud mass of music and people downstairs.

You blink at the sudden quietude and look up at him with eyes that made him want to abandon everything and take you there. Draco cleared his throat and adjusted himself, rubbing his palms against his eyes.

“Let’s get you changed into comfortable clothing, yeah?” He dug through his clothes to find a sweater and guided you toward the bathroom, flicking the light on.

“Draco?” You mumble as he sat you down on the counter and pulled your golden pumps off. “Draco.”

“Yes, baby?” He look up at you from his kneeled position, eyes equally blown wide. “What is it?”

You blink again and just watch him for a little longer, keeping eye contact with the blonde. Even in your intoxicated state you still found time to admire him.

“Nothing.” You sent him a cheeky smile at his expression, taking off your golden wings and handing them to him.

He stood from his spot and kissed your shoulder, “Do you wanna shower or go straight to bed?”

“Bed.” You yawn.

Draco hummed and helped your stand, slowly removing your dress and replacing it with his quidditch sweater. You smiled tiredly and leaned your body against his when he began wiping the makeup off your face, playing with the end of his tie.

“You remembered.” You murmur sleepily, blindly reaching for your toothbrush you kept in the boys dorm.

“I’ve been doing this for two years straight, I think I would know.” He handed you your toothbrush and toothpaste before removing the rest of your makeup and golden pins from your hair. “There.”

“Thank you.” You spoke with your toothbrush still in your mouth and leaned against the counter as Draco moved around you to change.

When you were both settled into bed, you wanted to just fall asleep right then and there, but you still had one thing to do. Your body was practically on top of his when you thought of it, your head rested on his bare shoulder.

“Draco?” You murmur and trace hearts on his chest, splaying your hand over his beating heart.

“Yeah?” He tilted his head over to you, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

“Happy third year anniversary.” You smile softly and fiddle with the promise ring he got you years ago.

“Happy anniversary, my love.” He hugged you tighter, head now buried in your shoulder and neck. “Thank you for being amazing.”

You kiss his cheek and sigh, “I love you.”

“I love you more than you could ever know.” Draco murmured and kissed you properly. “Cheers to three years.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[theyluvlyss]

𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐥...

batman's cape (and any of the other batfam member's capes) are heated/can be microwaved :D.

...yeah, probably not the most original thought. surely someone has come up with this before, and hey, maybe it's even canon - but that doesn't really take away any of the ideas I have, so on we go anyways lmao.

I imagine that you, y/n, reader (lol idk-) is often found all wrapped up in bruce's cape (ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S FRESH OUT OF THE WASH) and he'll be TEARING the manor apart looking for that shit because why would it be anywhere else except in the bat-cave, in his bat-suit vault, right there clipped onto the specific bat-suit he's choosing to wear for whatever mission he's finna go on, just to eventually find you on a couch somewhere above the bat-cave all rolled up like a worm in it with the glow of your phone emitting from underneath the fabric and your little giggles muffled by it because you're probably laughing at memes or something idk.

bruce is definitely the type to think it's silly and lowkey can't even blame you because it do be cold in the mansion, but he also refuses to drop the "I'm so hardcore and a brute and stone cold" act so he's yanking that shit offa' you and you're just BEWILDERED, suddenly exposed to the light and cold like, "😮⁉️🫨⁉️" and before you can even process wtf happened, bruce is already whisking around the corner, gone and out of sight💀.

dick would also think it's silly, but lowkey actually be annoyed, though, and he'd make that KNOWN. like, sure, he'd initially be VERY stressed when he can't find the cape (even though it's not thay big of a deal but for some reason, he just doesn't feel "complete" without it😭) but then he'd see this huge lump all wrapped up in it on a bed in one of the many rooms or something. at first, he'd think it's one of the handful of pets owned and living in the wayne estate, just to peel back the fabric and see YOU.

"...Hi😃..."

"...🙂Why are- Nevermind. You do know that I need this, right?"

"I mean,,, you don't need it, you just-"

*YANK!!*

"NO, WAIT, IT'S COLD!!"

"THEN GET A BLANKET!!"

I'm sorry, but I feel like dick don't play 'bout his cape, and you're just either gonna have to find different ways to sneak it or just leave it tf alone😭✋🏽. but when it's not currently in dire need by him, he'll happily return it to you and smile when you squeal and wrap yourself back up in and under it while it warms up.

BARBARA GETS IT FR. SHE GETS ✨️🩷YOU🩷✨️. but also, she is attached to it in the way dick is, so don't be surprised if and when she needs it, she's taking it from you with zero mercy and under the excuse of, "I'm on duty tonight, I'm not showing up out of uniform lol." and you're just left there like "☹️...". but outside of those times, the both of you can be found very happily and contently under her cape as you watch horror movies or something and rambling about who knows what, a common interest lol.

and I'm pretty sure in some strains/universes or whatever of dc, she ends up becoming oracle because she's paralyzed or some shit, right?? I could totally be wrong, but if I'm not, I feel like in that case, she just GIVES it to you. she makes it a huge deal, too, she acts like she's passing along the magical ashes of a dead ancestor that grants you infinite knowledge and protection or some shit and has a whole speech prepared, just for her to hand you this neatly folded up cloth and you're just like, "...You're giving me your cape😀??" and she's like, "Ya🙂♡." and you can't even be mad because ...

IT'S A HEATED CAPE like idk what else you could want from her like plz✋🏽.

(*casually skips over Tim bc idk enough about him and if I mischaracterized him I'd have to delete this account and then me off of the face of this earth bc I refuse to be that bitch who doesn't know her shit😃*)

jason will see you with his cape, and whether you're awake or asleep, he'll loom over you menacingly until you sense his presence, and then not even give you the chance to give excuses before he's like, "I'm on watch tonight."

you don't dare protest lmao. and he isn't giving it back to you later on. it's one of those things that if you really want it, you gotta go get it. and then expect you won't have it for very long, so whatever you plan on doing with it, you better make the most of it😭✋🏽. that's literally all I can say for him lmao.

DAMIAN (my fave) (^3^)/. I feel like he'd make it seem like SUCH an inconvenience for himself even though he doesn't actually care about the cape itself and if anything, finds it very sweet and endearing that you literally use it as a blanket because "it gets so warm" and "it smells like you" and "it's here when you're gone and I miss you". but, much like his father, he just HAS to keep up the, "I'm so stone cold and no nonsense and eternally vexed" facade, so if you're awake and you have it, he'll just hold out his hand expectingly and - like jason - you don't dare argue because you're just gonna lose🥲.

but if he finds the cape and you're asleep with/under it, he'll actually let you keep it. like, he'll just leave it and either go about his superhero duties without the cape entirely, or he'll just use another one from a different suit. sure, it might possess different capabilities (no pun intended), or he might feel a little... off... without a cape, but he'd rather that than interrupt your comfortable state.

and you'll be so bent up about it when he returns, and you're like, "WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST TAKE IT😭💔?!" and he's like, "you were obviously very comfortable, I didn't want to disturb you😐..........🫶🏼."

so um.... yeah, I honeslty dk where all of that came from, but do with this info what you will.

byeeee /ᐠ^ω^マ~ !!

[reidmarieprentiss]

Could I please request Spencer & Fem Reader based on the episode 9x24 when he gets shot and reader is super worried about him so is comforting him and doing all she can to make sure he’s ok and just fretting over him and on the jet she’s helping him in and just sitting with him next to the couch, brushing his hair so he sleeps. Just lots of cuddles. Maybe overbearing for Spencer because he’s not used to being the one taken care of since it’s usually vise versa. Thanks!!

Wounds: Physical & Emotional

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, hurt

Warnings/Includes: aftermath of Spencer getting shot, reader being overbearing, Spencer snapping, no happy ending

Word count: 2.1k

a/n: hiii i hope this is okay <33 i needed some angst so this was perfect

main masterlist

The atmosphere in the hospital room was filled with a quiet tension, the sterile smell of antiseptics mingling with the dull hum of machines. Spencer lay there, eyes half-open, a little pale and looking both exhausted and grateful just to be alive. His neck, wrapped in fresh bandages, still bore the marks of his ordeal, a stark reminder of how close he’d come to something irreversible.

You stood by his bedside, fingers gently resting on the thin hospital blanket, as if the mere act of touching it could somehow channel some of your strength to him. You'd been pacing the hallway for what felt like hours, running through every worst-case scenario, but finally seeing him, hearing the faint sound of his breathing steady and rhythmic—it brought a wave of relief so overwhelming it nearly took you to your knees.

As his eyes fluttered open, a soft but tired smile curved on his lips when he saw you there. “You… you really didn’t have to stay,” he murmured, his voice a bit strained, weakened from both the injury and the exhaustion that came with it.

You shook your head immediately, your hand instinctively reaching for his, fingers wrapping around his gently. “Don’t even say that, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, each word infused with the worry you’d been bottling up since the moment you’d found out he’d been hurt. “There’s nowhere else I would be. You… I was so scared.”

He squeezed your hand weakly, his thumb tracing a small, reassuring pattern against your knuckles. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know... I know how it must've felt, seeing me like that."

“No, no,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. None of this was your fault. You just… you’re always putting yourself out there for everyone else, and… Spencer, I can’t lose you. Not like that.”

His gaze softened as he looked up at you, the slight sheen of tears glistening in your eyes. He’d seen you in countless stressful situations, through endless cases and late-night work sessions, but this—this was different. “I’m still here,” he assured, his voice barely above a whisper, but steady. “I’m still here.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and brushing a loose strand of hair from his forehead, your fingertips lingering, just relieved to feel the warmth of his skin beneath them. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that,” you replied, your voice catching. “I didn’t… I didn’t know if I’d get to.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch, letting himself be comforted by your presence. The weight of what he’d been through hung between you both, unspoken yet deeply felt. It was as though your silent worry, your prayers for his survival, had wrapped around him, bringing him back.

“Are you… are you comfortable? Do you need anything?” you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper, but still filled with all the care and concern that had carried you through those agonizing hours of waiting.

He chuckled softly, a little hoarse, but there was a warmth in his eyes as he shook his head. “Just having you here is… more than enough,” he replied, his hand squeezing yours a little more firmly, a silent acknowledgment of how much it meant to him that you’d stayed, that you were there.

Your hand drifted from his forehead to his cheek, your thumb softly tracing the edge of his jaw, and for a moment, he simply closed his eyes, letting himself rest, letting himself lean on you.

“Promise me,” you said softly, breaking the quiet that had settled over you both. “Promise me you’ll be more careful next time, that… that you won’t go scaring me like this again.”

He opened his eyes, looking up at you, a small, apologetic smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll try,” he whispered. “But you know me…”

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile of your own finally breaking through the worry. “Yeah, I do,” you murmured, shaking your head fondly. “Which is exactly why I’ll be here, making sure you keep that promise.”

—

Your concern for Spencer had taken on a life of its own, a constant, consuming presence that followed him from the hospital back to work and even into the comfort of his own home. Every glance his way was laden with worry, every touch a check for signs of strain or pain, an endless stream of small but deeply attentive gestures. It seemed you couldn’t stop yourself from fretting over him, as if that watchful care alone could ensure his safety and recovery.

On the jet, you were never far from his side. When he tried to settle into the couch, you followed, bringing a small pillow and blanket, making sure he was comfortable, even sitting right beside him as if to act as a physical buffer against anything that might cause him pain. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” you whispered for what felt like the tenth time, fingers gently brushing a stray curl from his forehead. You stayed close, sometimes pulling a chair beside him, sometimes gently brushing your fingers through his hair in a rhythm that would lull him to sleep. Every time he shifted or opened his eyes, he found you right there, watching him with that same blend of worry and tenderness.

But back at home, your concern reached new levels. You simply couldn’t bear the idea of leaving him to fend for himself—not after what he’d just gone through. Any movement he made was met with your insistent, gentle intervention. “No, no,” you’d say softly but firmly when he reached for the coffee pot or attempted to carry anything from the kitchen. “I’ve got it. You’re supposed to be resting.” You’d guide him back to the couch or bed, a hand on his shoulder as if you thought he might collapse any moment if left unattended.

He found himself surrounded by the constant reminders of your care: you’d already brought him fresh coffee, placed his favorite books within easy reach, even left snacks and water close by. You practically fussed over him like he was made of glass, which at first he found touching. There was an odd but comforting warmth in how your love translated into these little gestures of support.

In the quiet intimacy of his apartment, you’d taken to accompanying him into the bathroom, even the shower, ensuring he was never alone. “I just… I can’t bear to leave you alone yet,” you’d said with a nervous laugh the first time, reaching for his hand. “It makes me feel better, okay?” 

Spencer, both surprised and touched, had reluctantly agreed, though he couldn’t deny the awkwardness. You watched him carefully as he bathed, helping him wash himself, bringing him his towel, even brushing his hair afterward with the same attention you give every one of his movements. 

Every small thing, even the routine act of bathing, became a moment for you to ensure his well-being. And while it was comforting, he found himself increasingly confined by your constant care.

Finally, it became too much. Spencer, who had always prided himself on his independence, was beginning to feel suffocated, trapped by the very love that usually gave him comfort and strength. He’d always been the one to look after others, the quiet pillar of support, and the sudden inversion had been tolerable at first. But as the days wore on, he found himself unable to breathe under the weight of it.

One evening, after yet another shower where you hovered nearby, he reached a breaking point. Just as he reached for the towel, he looked up seeing you already holding it, his face was now laced with frustration and fatigue. “Can’t you… can’t you just give me a little space?” he snapped, his voice louder than he intended, sharp enough to startle you.

The words hung in the air, and you looked at him, taken aback by the sudden tension in his voice. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident as he struggled to put his feelings into words. “I know you’re worried about me—I know. But you won’t even let me bathe alone,” he continued, his tone edged with an exasperation that mirrored how he felt. “I can’t even think for five minutes without you hovering!”

You took a shaky breath, hurt and confusion clouding your expression as you tried to process his outburst. “I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” you said softly, your voice breaking with the vulnerability you’d tried so hard to keep hidden.

Spencer’s gaze never softened, “I know you’re worried, and I want to appreciate it, I do. But I need time to myself. I need to feel like I can still do something without help. I need space from you!” he raised his voice again.

You flinched as your heart sank, realizing how tightly you’d been holding on to the fear of losing him, how it had manifested in every act of love, every worried glance, every touch that you’d thought was comforting. You nodded, stepping back a little, trying to offer him the space he so clearly needed. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, eyes dropping to the floor. “I… I’ll give you that space.”

As you quietly closed the bathroom door behind you, Spencer felt a calmness settle over him, a rare feeling of unencumbered space. He hadn’t realized until that moment just how much the attention—though well-meaning and deeply appreciated—had begun to weigh on him, like an invisible net keeping him grounded. The soft click of the door seemed to signal a return to normalcy, to a routine he thought he’d lost somewhere in the haze of his injury.

But what he didn’t realize was how deeply his outburst had hurt you, how you’d clung so desperately to the idea of keeping him safe, only to feel dismissed, even resented, for the very care you’d thought he needed.

Spencer felt lighter as he brushed his hair, each stroke a small declaration of independence. He took his time shaving, enjoying the familiar ritual. He finished, splashing cold water on his face, feeling as if he’d reclaimed a part of himself, a small but significant piece of control.

Satisfied, he wrapped himself in a fresh towel and stepped into the bedroom, thinking of nothing but how good it felt to finally be able to tend to himself. But the moment he crossed the threshold, a chill settled over him. His eyes flicked to the small armchair in the corner, the one that had become a fixture for your bag during your stayover, always waiting quietly, a reminder of your presence and your watchful care. Except now, the chair sat empty. Your bag was gone.

His heart stilled, a sinking feeling creeping into his chest. Quickly, he threw on clothes, barely fastening the buttons of his shirt before moving through the apartment, calling out your name, his voice echoing through the silent rooms. “Y/N?”

He stepped into the living room, glancing around in hopes you were just out of sight, maybe near the kitchen or just down the hall. But there was no answer, no sound, just an aching quiet that pressed in on him like a vise.

“Y/N!” he called again, louder this time, almost pleading. But the silence that met him felt crushing. His mind whirled with dread, memories of the sharpness in his tone, the flash of hurt in your eyes just before you’d turned away. The realization of what he’d done, what he’d said, crashed over him with a painful clarity. In his desperate need for solitude, he hadn’t stopped to consider what his words might mean to you, hadn’t thought of how they might cut deep after all you’d done to care for him.

The hollow ache in his chest grew as he scanned the empty room, his mind replaying each moment you’d been there, every touch, every comforting smile. He could still feel the warmth of your hand in his, the gentle brush of your fingers through his hair. The thought that you might’ve left, might have taken that warmth and devotion with you, was more terrifying than anything he’d faced in the field.

His voice softened, almost a whisper, as he spoke into the empty room, “Please, don’t go.” But the quiet, unyielding silence lingered, leaving him alone with the weight of his words, and he realized that maybe, just maybe, he’d pushed away the one thing he truly needed.

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

tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance @pleasantwitchgarden @alexxavicry @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @criminal-spence @navs-bhat @taygrls @person-005 

[papaya-twinks]

Reader in a f1 journalist hooking up with Lando kind of fwb but not really friends and she said something negative about him and decided to “punish” her in the bedroom

Warnings: Smut, 18+, degradation

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

“Lando, that race obviously was far from ideal,” you said, standing in front of the McLaren driver. “I’m aware,” he said, cutting off the end of your sentence. “Max’s championship lead has come to-,” you started to speak yet again. 

“I don’t care,” he said, “Y/N, I really don’t care about the championship, I’m not focused on it, I’ve said that so many times,”. This was frustrating, it wasn’t like you were intentionally trying to piss off Lando. 

“So-So why don’t you give us your opinion on the race?” you said, seeing the frustration, both at you and the whole race, in his eyes. “It wasn’t good, was it?” he said sarcastically, before he ducked his head, leaving promptly. 

He was making this so much harder. So unnecessary. Though you could tell the question you had asked had definitely pissed him off, of course it had, but it wasn’t like it was personal anyways!

Lando 💋🧡: Come to my place. 

Well if this was one thing you were definitely sure of, it was when Lando used punctuation, he was not in the mood to joke. And so you went to his place after the interviews, fixing your hair as you knocked. 

“La-,” you didn’t even get a chance to finish as Lando pulled you into his hotel room. He had nothing but a towel round his waist, his curls damp and wet as he held your forearm, pulling you to his bed. 

“You’re such a bitch,” he said, his words full of spite as he let go of you, the backs of your knees against the bed as he pushed the towel off, shaking his curls as he pushed you down, his cock springing against your cheek. 

“What, did you think you’re funny, askin’ that shit?” he pushed his tip onto your tongue, heavy and hard as you gagged, his length sliding into your mouth. “C’mon, let me fill your mouth with something that isn’t total bullshit,” he pushed his cock further down as you gasped. 

You could feel your throat bulging with his thick cock, the vein flexing as he held your head back, sliding down your tongue, your eyes watering at the strain to fit him. He held your head against the bed, fucking your throat slowly, almost tantalisingly slowly, teasing, no, mocking you. 

You gasped for breath as he pulled back, your tongue coated in a mix of your salvia and his pre-cum as he pulled you back up, pushing your skirt up. “Let me answer your stupid question, then,” he snapped, rubbing circles over your clit as you shuddered. 

“Think you can ask me in that in front of the whole fuckin’ world, but you can’t even stand properly when your needy little pussy’s getting some attention,” he pushed his finger all the way into your cunt, right to his knuckle, as you clenched round him, head falling back. 

“Max’s lead had fuckin’ gone up, yeah,” he said, pushing another finger in, fucking it in and out of you as you gasped, rubbing your hips down on him, “but does he get it fuck the stupid little reporter afterwards?”. 

“N-No,” you choked out, your orgasm flooding through you as your eyes rolled, his fingers slick with your need. “You always cum so fast,” Lando said, pumping your salvia over his length as he turned you over so your chest was pressing to the bed sheets. 

“Never let me drag it out,” he continued, aligning his tip with your entrance, dragging his cock through your folds, collecting your juices on his tip, “is it coz I’m so good? Or you just a slut?” he sneered, pushing into you as you gasped. 

Your body shuddered again, hands balling into fists in the bed sheets, your eyes rolling as he pulled your head back with your hair so your back was pressed to his chest, your face visible to him. “Tell me,” he said, refusing to move as you whined. 

“Is it both?” he asked, his voice commanding as your mouth fell open. “Y-Yes,” you choked out as he hummed, pushing you back down, pulling your arms up so they were bent behind your back, sliding his arm through them as he snapped his hips against yours. 

“Always askin’ me shitty questions like that, you tryna make me look like a dick, Y/N?” Lando jeered once again. “Always sayin’ shit like that and then givin’ me those eyes as if you don’t expect me to fuck the shit out of you for it,”. 

You could hardly form words, your moans barely able to come out as his hips snapped against yours, the feeling almost painful a the sound of his skin slapping against yours, mixed with the noises of his cock plunging into your heat again and again, faster and faster-

You clenched round him as he quickened, his thrusts sloppier by the second, your cunt clenching round him as your second orgasm hit, his own thrusts becoming weaker as his seed shot into you, ropes of the stuff leaking from your core. 

“This is what happens,” he panted, his hand bunching in your hair so he could pull you back, pressing a kiss to your collarbone and then your cheek, “when you don’t act like you should,” he pressed another kiss to your lips, tongue swiping along your swollen lower lip.

[chestersturniolo]

“don’t gotta be so dramatic all the fuckin’ time”

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader x Chris Sturniolo

based on this request

₊⊹

DISCLAIMER; chratt poly relationship dynamic!! if you aren’t comfortable w this, do not read

₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊ ₊⊹ ₊ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊

It had started as a small tiff, but somehow, it escalated out of control in minutes. The three of you were in the kitchen, and Chris had made a comment-something offhanded about how you were “always overthinking everything”

“Overthinking?-” you snapped, setting down the mug you’d been holding “-you’re really calling me out for caring about stuff, Chris? Unbelievable”

Chris crossed his arms, his expression growing defensive. “That’s not what I’m saying, I’m saying sometimes you blow things way out of proportion. I can’t bring anything up without you acting like it’s some huge deal!”

Your pulse quickened, your anger growing quickly, “You know what, maybe I wouldn’t if you actually bothered to listen for once instead of making me feel like I’m overreacting every time I say something!”

Matt, who had been silent in the corner, finally chimed in, “I think Chris is just trying to say you’re taking it a bit far” he shrugged, his words only added fuel to the fire.

You turned to him, a mix of anger and hurt flooding your face. “Oh, of course you’re siding with him-“ you scoffed “-god forbid you actually back me up on something for once!”

Matt shook his head with a roll of his eyes, frustration in his voice now too. “Look, it’s not about sides, I just don’t think it’s worth blowing up over”

“Exactly-“ Chris agrees “-don’t gotta be so dramatic all the fuckin’ time” he snaps, his voice raising.

You get taken aback slightly at his tone. sure, you’ve all had disagreements before, but it rarely escalated to any form of yelling. There’s dead silence in the room as your emotions start to become overwhelming. The way they teamed up and dismissed your feelings only pushed you to the edge, so without a word, you turned and stormed out of the house, the door slamming shut behind you.

-

You spent the entire day wandering around town, trying to clear your mind. You walked down familiar streets, through the park, even sat by the lake for a while, letting the fresh air and the quiet calm you down. Your phone buzzed relentlessly in your pocket, but eventually, you turned it off.

Finally, as the sun began to set, you decided to head home. You felt drained, both emotionally and physically, but you knew it was time to face them.

When you opened the front door, you were immediately met with the sound of voices from upstairs. As you climbed the stairs quietly, you could hear them—Chris and Matt, arguing with each other.

“You shouldn’t have snapped at her like that!” Matt was practically shouting, his voice thick with anger.

“Don’t put all the blame on me-“ Chris shot back “-you didn’t exactly help calm her down, did you?”

There was a pause, then you heard Chris sigh deeply. “Let’s go back out and look again”

“We’ve been driving around for hours, Chris! What makes you think she’ll still be out there now?-” Matt snapped, his frustration clear. “-I’m calling her again”

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of guilt and exhaustion as you stepped around the corner. The living room came into view, and you saw Chris sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees with his head in his hands,,while Matt was pacing back and forth, his phone pressed to his ear.

“Hi” you said quietly, breaking the tense silence

Both of their heads snapped toward you, a mix of anger and relief on their faces.

Chris stood up quickly. “Hi?” he repeats in disbelief, “Where the hell have you been?! We’ve been worried sick!” His voice strained with both worry and frustration.

“Out” you said simply, still feeling a bit defiant despite the guilt settling in your chest.

“Out?” he echoed, his jaw clenching as he turned to Matt. “Can you believe this shit? Just…‘out’ - like we haven’t been losing our minds looking for her all day”

Matt rolled his eyes but then turned his attention back to you, his tone softer than Chris’s. He crossed the room to stand infront of you. “I tried calling you, like, a thousand times” he said, his voice more tired than angry.

You looked down, feeling a pang of remorse. “I turned my phone off”

Matt let out a deep sigh, a flash of frustration crossing his face as he throws both hands up in the air “You can’t just—” He cut himself off abruptly, noticing the tears that were starting to well up in your eyes as you dropped your gaze to the floor

Immediately, his face softened, his irritation melting away. “Oh baby” he murmured, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close, shooting a look to his brother

“I’m sorry-“ you choked out, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. “I just…I was so mad, I needed to clear my head, and I just lost track of time,and I hate fighting with you guys and-and-i-“ you cut your own rambling off with small sobs

Matt held you tighter, stroking your hair gently. “Sh-sh-shhh it’s okay” he soothed, his voice a whisper

Chris, who had been watching, came over with a much softer expression, holding out his arms. “Come here, ma” he said, his voice now gentle.

You sniffled, letting go of Matt to move into Chris’s arms. He wrapped you in a tight embrace, laying a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there. “it’s okay, you’re here now that’s all that matters,hmm?-“ he murmured, rubbing your back in slow circles. “-I’m sorry for earlier, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, I was way outta’ line”

Matt steps closer, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Me too baby, i’m sorry-” he says quietly, his voice full with regret “-but please don’t leave like that again okay? if you don’t wanna talk things out and need some space, we’ll leave…we need to know you’re safe sweetheart”

₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊ ₊⊹ ₊ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊

a/n; thankyou for the request anon🫀!! lylyly

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST LINKED HERE

taglist;

@sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh

@phone4pills @sturniooolos

@monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4 @brianna-grace12

@blahbel668

@stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom @l0ver-i

@starstrucktyrantinfluencer @fratbrochrisgf @emely9274

@chriseatingmeoutin4k @slvttie-zx

@bbybloop @sturnn372 @chrissturnsss @izzylovesmatt

@sturniolossss @sturniolofannnforevver @zariyam @r0s3luvr

@sturniolosluttt @matts1freak @conspiracy-ash

@stvrnzwrld @blehblehbleh735

@luvb0xoxo @ivysturnss @stars4star @sturnsxbitvh

@amayaaaho @thebigbadwolfahoooo @riasturns @kamrynnsturns @sophand4n4 @strnlslut

[justwonder113]

Sharing bed with Seungmin

Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: After facing the horrible and vile beast and hurting your leg in the fight, your best friend offers to let you stay in his house. Where one thing might lead to another. Warning: cursing as always, there's no surprise there. Not proofread. Both Seungmin and Reader are quite goofy. Reader is gender neutral. Mentions of kissing.

A/N- Hey babies! I'mglad to say I'm back and well. I hope you'll like this fic. Reblogs and cooments are greatly appreciated. Feel free to request and send your thoughts if you have any❤️ Word count- 1.8k

Having your own house is a beautiful experience. It’s like an adventure of having your own kingdom and being a monarch. You have all the privacy and personal space one can dream of; you have peace and quiet; you have freedom to do whatever you want be it walking around butt naked or cooking up a three course meal at  3am; you can have random 3 am dance concerts and so on and so on. Most importantly you could do whatever you wanted to decorate and style it which is what you were busy doing right now.

Lately your Pinterest feed was full of various versions of colorful archways. People came up with so many interesting ways to add a pop of color to their house and it seemed quite easy to do so. So here you were perched on the stool unleashing your inner artist on your archway. Well at least that was the plan. Everything went to gutter when you saw a movement in the corner of your eye. You turned around made eye contact with probably the most disgusting and vile looking grasshopper ever. The horrific appearance of the beast made you scream so hard the beast also got startled and fucking jumped on you! Obviously you lost your shit at that too, your already shaky and unstable stool just couldn’t take it anymore. One second you were screaming your lungs out the next second you were on the floor with your leg hurting like a bitch.

You must have made quite a lot of noise because almost immediately the front door of your house basically burst open and Seungmin rushed towards your hunching figure. You had almost forgotten he was supposed to come over. You had even left your door open for him. Quite convenient, because no way in hell would you be able to stand up and walk towards the door in this state. You sure as hell hoped you didn’t break it.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Seungmin looked frantic as he nervously examined you. You wanted to keep your cool, you really did. But the pain and the shock took over your senses and the next thing you knew you were bawling your eyes out as Seungmin, confused and unsure of what to do, cradled your body close to his frame and tried to calm you down.

You were unsure of what happened next. You were pretty out of it. Maybe out of shock maybe because of the painkillers, who knows. Seungmin did most of… Well basically everything. He helped you get ready, took you to the hospital, did basically all the talking with the doctors, stayed with you through every procedure… He even took care of all the paperwork, bought all the meds and not once did he complain about anything! Even more, he bought you to his house! Well he said because you couldn’t be trusted to be alone but you knew it was because he was worried, also you did complain quite a lot about being afraid of the beast lurking in your house. With your foot strained like this there wasn’t even a possibility for you to run away from the hideous creature.

If you thought that he wasn’t husband material before (oh no you were totally not crushing on your best friend, not at all!), he even made you dinner, which was just finger licking good! He made sure to step away to his room to make a call, but you could still hear how he asked Minho for tips. How could you not love him? He even called Minho! He hated asking him for help. He looked so good doing everything too, all you could think about was how you wanted to kiss him.

“You’re the best Minnie.” You cheered as he helped you get to bed. He insisted that you take his bed, refusing to hear you protest. You loved how he always acted like everything was such a bother and then went out of his way to do it.

“Shut it, I’m only letting you sleep on my bed because knowing your clumsy ass you’ll fall of the sofa and further injure yourself!” He grumbled as he tucked you in like you were a literal child.

“Aww you do care about me.” You couldn’t help but tease.

Seungmin only scoffed – “Don’t push it!”

“I love you too!”- You mused, he rolled hie eyes at that but you could have sworn the corner of his lips lifted up. He was about to leave but you reached in just in time to grab his hand. Seungmin looked taken aback for a second but quickly gathered himself. “Please stay?” You made sure to do your best puppy eyes and it worked! Seungmin immediately caved, but being a stubborn ass, he is he just plopped on you. Careful to not touch your leg but still with enough force to squish you.

Honestly, jokes on him because you only saw this as an opportunity to wrap your hands around him and tightly hug him. He “tried” to get free but you knew that this softie enjoyed the hug, the big ass smile on his face confirmed it. In mere sounds he stopped resisting and continued to just flop on you.

“What are you doing?” He huffed out while his face was adorned with the prettiest smile ever. God you couldn’t understand how could he say anything bad about his smile or even think of hiding it. It was always so innocent and pure. It never failed to put a smile on your face, to light up your whole world.

“Showing how thankful I am?!” – To further prove your point you leaned in and gave him the fastest smooch on his cheek. Seungmin made sure to grimace as dramatically as possible, but as always, his arms wrapping around your waist told whole another story about how he felt.

“Oh really? By kissing my cheek?” What a little shit. Now it was your time to roll your eyes. “Are you insinuating I should kiss you elsewhere?” You tried to not sound as hopeful as you actually felt.

Seungmin barked out a teasing laugh-“As if you could, you don’t have the guts for it!”

You quickly let go of him and crossed your arms to show your disdain, with equally matching scowl adorning your face. That didn’t stop him from hugging your frame, in fact he tightened his hold around your waist. “How dare you sir!”

Seungmin looked at you with challenging look, his eyes full of amusement. “What? Are you going to kiss me then?” His voice was teasing, you couldn’t tell if he was actually for real or not. You couldn’t’ tell if you should challenge him or not.

“I just might!” – You challenged, thinking that you just might as well go with it. You could always play as if you were joking. You hated hiding your true feelings but anything was better than possibly losing him as a friend.

“What are you waiting for then?”? You thought you knew him the best but you couldn’t really decipher what his face meant. Was he actually for real? Were you two about to cross the line that could possibly ruin your friendship either for the best or for the worst?

“Don’t you dare regret it!” You whispered against his lips. When did Seungmin’s face get so close? With every breath your lips slightly brushed against each other. You could smell the minty smell of his toothpaste. God you were really about to do it!

“Wouldn’t dream of it love.” His voice was low, almost like a whisper. God, you couldn’t resist him anymore. Here went nothing. Bringing him closer with his face you finally connected your lips together.

His lips were a bit cold and chapped but nonetheless you loved how they felt against yours. Your whole heart was bursting with joy. Every drag of your lips against each other felt like heaven, you couldn’t help but lean in for more. Seungmin must have also felt that way because he also kissed you like a starved man, like you were oxygen he needed to breathe. His hands had shifted from around your waist, one hand held your hip tightly while the other migrated to your neck and softly rested there. You also couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, your one arm was wrapped around his shoulders as the other still held his cheek to have him as close as possible. His lips were almost addictive like a drug you didn’t know needed in your life you just couldn’t get enough.

Unfortunately for you, you had to lean back to get some air. You always thought that oxygen was overrated anyway but biology or whatever. Seungmin also seemed unimpressed to be away from your lips but that still didn’t stop him from covering your whole face and neck with sweet kisses.

“I thought I was the one supposed to be the one saying thanks?” You couldn’t help but giggle as he kissed the ticklish spot on your neck. Seungmin looked up to you for a second then quickly got up. Your heart clenched at the idea that you might’ve done something wrong but he immediately washed away those worries by walking around the bed and laying down on the bed next to you, under the same queen size cover.

You looked at him with wide eyes as he got more comfortable laying on his back and opened his arms for you almost like an invitation. “All done!”

“What are you doing Min?” A smile crept up your face as you examined his mischievous smile.

“I just got more comfortable, you can thank me as much as you want now.” Seungmin answered proudly with the prettiest smirk adorning his face.

 You couldn’t help but mirror the expression. “You’re such a brat sometimes. What should I do with you?”

As if seriously thinking things over Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows and to be extra dramatic crossed his arms. You loved how giddy he felt after your kiss. It felt nice knowing you weren’t the only one losing your shit on the inside.

Seungmin smiled, and you knew immediately he was about to smartass you. You tried to turn away from him to not give him the satisfaction but he was quicker. He wrapped his arms around you and brought you closer to his body, his forehead gently resting on yours. “You love me!” After rolling your eyes at his goofyness you sighed in defeat and relaxed into the hug.

“You know what? I do.” You leaned in and sealed your lips again to further confirm your feelings. You would have hurt your leg a long time ago if you knew it things would end up like this.

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated^^

Taglist (feel free to either comment or massage me if you want to be added to my taglist ❤️) : @velvetmoonlght

[carto0ncritter]

The latest episode of HB has these issues that I find important to talk about:

Millie claiming that she's Blitzø's best friend. We've never even seen how they'd interact before. Like, ever. Also, wasn't Fizz supposed to be Blitzø's bff? They made up, right? Or maybe their relationship is still too strained to call them best pals again, which yeah, I get it. Heck, maybe the bond they once had will never be the same. But either way, Blitzø and Millie were never even friends

The fact Blitzø wanted to fuck both Millie and Moxxie throughout the series was treated like it's no big deal. A boss wanting to have sex with his employees really just grinds my gears. it's disgusting, especially if those employees are married. Blitzø was also an overall stalker who invaded their privacy. This show, along with HH, doesn't know if it wants to treat serious stuff like it's serious or as a joke. It's never consistent

Blitzø's trauma is mentioned for the 1609458th time. Is that really all there is to him at this point? How about you finally give your "main character" some development, Viv? Oh right, it's all about Stolas now, I forgot. Let's demonize and mentally and emotionally torture the victim of Stolas' abuse instead. Also, screw the development of the other characters, who needs 'em anyway

Millie's role in this episode is once again tied to a man in her life. It's always been her husband, and now it's Blitzø. He gave her everything, that was what this episode tried to tell us. Even if an episode is "about Millie" there always has to be a male character involved in some way. Even though I'm a man, I hate how women are portrayed in HH & HB. Y'all deserve better

I didn't enjoy Millie's interaction with Loona. Because Loona is a bitch as usual

A ridiculous number of swears and sex jokes. Nothing new to see here. Constant swearing is just how the characters talk at this point

Blitzø missing Stolas is portrayed as him still having genuine feelings for him and feeling guilty for "hurting his fee fees" and not as an abuse victim being unable to let go of his abuser

Stolas being mentioned/appearing in Blitzø's mind, even if he wasn't physically in the episode

STOLAS

[pamwritessometimes]

Tuesday’s Gone — Chapter 4

Russell Shaw x reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: missing child trope, description and mention of murder, language, crawling in a narrow vent (I’m sorry my fellow claustrophobic loves), being held captive, being kidnapped

A/N: While proofreading, I realized my subconscious was probably influenced by @zepskies ’ S.I.N.G. (Beau Arlen x reader) fic — even with the different Jackles character. So, I want to give her credit for the first part of this chapter. 🤍

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Catch up on Chapter 3 here

Tuesday’s Gone masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

You couldn’t stop the giggles, even as Russell held you firm, your back flush against his chest, his hands pinning yours effortlessly. The whole thing was just… well, kind of hot, really.

“Y/N” he sighed for the hundredth time, clearly on the edge of his patience. “You can’t giggle your way out of an actual assault. Try to focus, will you? What would you do if I were someone else?”

“But you’re you” you teased, half-joking, half-distracted. “And anyway, self-defense is kind of pointless. We live in a safe neighborhood. Nobody’s going to lay a hand on me.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, his grip tightening slightly as he paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Look, sweetheart… you’re a young, attractive woman” he said finally. “It’d just make me feel better if I knew you could handle yourself if… anything happened when I’m not around.”

At the time, you had no idea what he meant by that.

“Can you hear that?” you whispered, your ears straining in mock suspense. Russell’s brows knit together as he shot you a confused look.

“Hear what?”

“Paranoid by Black Sabbath. Pretty sure it’s coming from over here,” you said, playfully poking your finger at his temple.

He deadpanned as he repeated your name once more. It sounded almost… pleading. You didnt miss that, and though you still thought he was being over-the-top, you decided to give in.

“Fine…” you sighed “show me these life-saving moves, oh, mighty master!”

Russell cracked a grin, but his expression quickly shifted to that serious trainer look he was trying way too hard to pull off.

“Alright. First rule: break their grip. Grab my wrist… Come on, like you mean it.”

You reached out, gripping his wrist, and he showed you how to twist and pull back, making it surprisingly easy to break free. “See? Leverage, not strength” he explained.

“Okay, fine. Not bad” you admitted, trying not to let him see you were actually impressed. It was kind of cool.

He moved on, showing you a move to throw off an attacker.

“Step in close, get low, and drive your shoulder up under their chin” he said, positioning himself as the attacker. You gave it a try, and he stumbled back with a laugh.

“That’s the spirit!” he said, straightening up. You didn’t miss the small glint of pride in his eyes. “Alright, one more. This time, if someone comes at you from behind.”

Before you knew it, his arms were around you from behind, pulling you close. It was very déjà vu to the way he’d started this whole lesson. “Now, if you were actually in danger—”

“Danger, yes” you teased, leaning back into him just a bit and looked up at him through your lashes. “How’s a girl supposed to focus with such a handsome teacher breathing down her neck? I’m kind of having trouble concentrating, you know.”

He shook his head, a grin slipping out as he loosened his grip. “Laugh it up, sweetheart, but I’m serious here. You’ve got this. Just remember what I taught you, alright? What’s the most important rule!”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “When in doubt… aim for the balls.”

Russell chuckled, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “That’s my girl” he said, pulling you into a kiss.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

A sharp throb pulsed through your skull, but it was nothing compared to the hollow ache in your chest. The cold floor beneath you felt like concrete, but you couldn’t be sure. For now, you kept your eyes closed, trying to piece together what the hell had happened.

The last thing you remembered was the warehouse — those two men ambushing you and Russell.

It was a trap. All of it, carefully set to lure Russell back in, and you along with him.

Your thoughts turned to Russell. He had to be here, somewhere… Somewhere close. The thought pushed you to crack one eye open. Dim light filtered through, casting shadows that made everything look warped and surreal.

You sat up slowly, feeling your muscles protest as you took in your surroundings. The room was small, cramped… more like a cell than a room.

The smell of mildew filled the air, mingling with the unmistakable metallic scent of rusted metal and something else. Blood. Your pulse quickened as you took in the details, every instinct screaming that escape wasn’t an option here.

Your gaze drifted to the far corner, where a dark shape slumped against the wall. Heart pounding, you squinted through the low light, hoping beyond hope that it was him. “Russell?” you tried to call out to him, but it was more of a whisper than anything.

A soft groan answered you, and relief mixed with dread flashed through your veins. You crawled forward, ignoring the scrape of the rough floor against your palms and knees.

As you got closer, Russell’s face came into view. It was uncharacteristically pale, smeared with a hint of dried blood. It wasn’t that bad, but still… it looked like his. His breaths were shallow, his eyes half-closed, and a few small bruises bloomed across his face and arms, telling you he hadn’t escaped this unscathed.

“Hey, Russ” you murmured, reaching out to touch his shoulder gently. His nickname felt both foreign and natural falling from your lips. It’s been a while since you called him that.

His skin was cold and clammy, but at your touch, his eyes fluttered open.

“Y/N…” he rasped with a voice that was both hoarse and somewhat defeated. He took a few moments to compose himself, but he quickly took in his surroundings. “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have brought you with me.”

Your heart twisted, but you forced a small smile. “Not like I gave you a choice.”

He attempted a smile, but it faded rather abruptly, leaving a shadow of worry on his face. “Where’s Colter?”

“He— he’s not here” you replied scanning the cramped cell. “Do you think they’ve added him to their collection of ‘missing persons’?”

“I don’t know. I can only hope he’s busy slapping some sense into our captors while we’re stuck here” he said, as he tried to stand up.

As the weight of the situation settled in, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway.

You exchanged wary glances, instinctively stepping closer together.

The door to your cell creaked open, revealing a man in a brown suede jacket, sunglasses — mind you, it was inside a semi-dark room — flanked by two guards. Your heart raced as he stepped in, a self-assured smirk playing on his mischievous lips.

Behind him, a small figure shuffled into view, clutching a foreign stuffed toy anxiously.

Emma.

“Look who’s here” the man said, his voice dripping with mockery.

Emma’s wide eyes scanned the room, filled with confusion and fear. “Mommy?”

You felt your heart stop. “Baby girl”

As those words left your lips, Russell seemed frozen in place, his mind momentarily shutting down. It was the first time he was face-to-face with her, his daughter. He took in her small figure, the way she clutched a stuffed toy she probably got from these men tightly, and the wide green eyes that reflected the fear of the days spent in captivity.

His face shifted from pure shock to something that looked like it hurt, like a dam just burst inside him. For a second, all the chaos, the danger, everything melted away, leaving just the connection he felt for her.

But the moment didn’t last long, quickly swallowed up by the harsh reality. You saw the pain flicker in Russell’s eyes as he processed it all. “You’re okay, sweetheart” you assured Emma, stepping closer —only for Mr Douche’s goons to block your path with a grunt. You shot him a look, then turned back to Emma. “We’re getting you out of here.”

The man in his Aviators chuckled, sounding like a cold, amused cacophony. “Isn’t this all so touching?” he said with a mocking smile. Then, his face turned serious. “Shaw, it’s good to see you. Been what? Five? Six months”

Russell didn’t answer, clearly not falling to his little tricks. The man spoke up again. “But let’s not forget why we’re here. You’ve got a decision to make. And this time, it’s not just about you.”

You shot a glare his way before leaning closer to Russell. “Who the hell is this guy?” you whispered.

Russell’s answer was dry as his eyes stayed fixed on the man. “The greatest jackass of all time.”

This was James Rourke, head honcho at Horizon, the very top of the food chain in the world Russell once belonged to. Rourke looked out of place in his fancy brown suede jacket, like he’d wandered in from some luxury lounge instead of a prison cell. And his mustache — a perfectly trimmed little fucking pornstache, practically begging to be mocked — did nothing to make him look any less ridiculous.

Rourke’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the tension. He glanced over at Emma, who clutched her stuffed toy tighter, her little eyes darting between you and Russell. “Sweet girl” he said, his voice soaked with fake warmth “you must be wondering what’s going on. Don’t worry, it’ll all make sense soon.”

“Leave her out of this,” you snapped.

Rourke tilted his head, smirking like he found your defiance cute. “Oh, sweetie,” he drawled, flashing that irritatingly smug smile. “I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands.” He glanced at Russell, his eyebrows lifted with mock surprise. “Come on, Russell. Did you actually believe you could just walk away?”

Russell’s jaw tightened. “I’m done playing by your rules, Rourke.”

Rourke’s eyes lit up with that twisted, almost playful glint, like he was savoring every second of Russell’s resistance. “Oh, Russell, you seem confused. There is no choice here. You either come back… or things might get, well, complicated.” His gaze slid over to Emma, who instinctively shrank back, catching the meaning immediately, even if not completely.

Your heart hammered in your chest. “You wouldn’t dare” you hissed.

Rourke laughed, sounding genuinely amused this time. “Oh, wouldn’t I? Let’s just say I believe in incentives.” He shot a dark look at Russell “So, either you get back in line… or your little girl here learns just how persuasive I can be.”

The room went ice-cold. Russell’s fists clenched as he glared at Rourke. “You leave her out of this. She’s got nothing to do with your mess.”

Rourke shrugged like he was discussing the weather. "Then stop pretending you’re free to leave. You knew the fine print when you signed up.” He stepped back, giving the guards a nod like they were his personal fan club. “Think it over, both of you. And just a heads-up… I don’t make empty promises.”

As Rourke strode out — with Emma being pulled by her tiny hand, crying out for wanting to stay with you — he shot a final smug look over his shoulder, and the guards followed, slamming the cell door shut behind them.

You sighed as the lock clicked, trapping you both in again. But Russell wasn’t about to throw in the towel. Staying put? Not a chance. Not with you and Emma tangled in this nightmare, and definitely not with Rourke trying to pull the strings.

His gaze swept the cell, then froze on something up high: an air vent, nearly hidden behind a stack of old crates.

“Perfect” he muttered, a hint of determination lighting up his face.

He grabbed one of the crates and slid it under the vent, then looked at you with that familiar spark in his eye. He hauled one of the crates over and tapped it, motioning for you to step up. “Give me a hand up, sweetheart. If we can get the screws loose, we’re gone.”

The nickname caught you off-guard. It fell so easily from his mouth, yet, it seemed so bittersweet now. “Sweetheart?”

He flashed a quick grin, already reaching for the vent. “Old habits die hard. Now, help me with this, yeah?”

You nodded, steadying him as he climbed up and started working on the vent cover. Using a rusty nail he pried from one of the crates, Russell twisted at the screws, working them free with grunts of effort.

With the last screw finally out, you both heard voices echoing from the hallway. Adrenaline kicked in as you climbed up and squeezed into the narrow vent, praying this actually led somewhere.

You hated this. Your claustrophobic ass was kicking you from the inside. How did you end up in a mess like this?

“How are you holding up?” he asked in a whisper, but the concern in his voice was unmistakable. Right. He remembered.

“Stop talking, continue crawling.” you said hurriedly. The less you acknowledged the suffocating surroundings, the better.

YYou crawled along, knees scraping, until you spotted a grate at the end. Kicking it loose, you dropped into a pitch-black storage room. Quietly, you slipped into the hallway beyond, letting Russell lead — his sure footing somehow both reassuring and a little unnerving.

“You know this place?” you whispered, trying to keep the nerves out of your voice.

“Nah” he muttered, casting a glance around. “Just following my instincts.”

“Oh, good. And what do your instincts say about where Emma is?”

Then, like something straight out of a scripted movie, you heard it: a small voice that was unmistakably hers. “Mommy?”

You turned the corner, and there she was, standing behind a closed door with a small window, clutching her stuffed toy. No guards in sight felt like a miracle. Relief and desperation flooded you all at once. The door was locked tight, and there was no key laying around, for obvious reasons.

You watched with a continuously racing heart as Russell pulled a paperclip from his pocket — of all things — and straightened it. “Can’t believe they missed this little bad boy” he murmured, working it into the lock. His gun and knife hadn’t been as lucky; those were gone in an instant. But the paperclip? Somehow, it had slipped right past their search.

With a quiet click, the lock gave way, and Russell shot you a quick, triumphant grin.

You threw the door wide, scooping Emma into your arms as her tiny hands clung to you like a lifeline. She was trembling. Crying.

“Shh, baby girl” you whispered, holding her close. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Russell debated to reach out, but decided now was not the time for a great family reunion. His eyes darted down the hall. “Alright, let’s get out of here before Rourke’s even had his morning coffee.”

“What about Colter?”

“I don’t know if he’s here. And the sooner we get her and you out of here, the better chances of… this ending good.”

He knew Colter could be in hot water, but he told himself he could handle it. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself to suppress the guilt. So far, there were no signs of Colter being around, and Rourke hadn’t mentioned him at all, which made him hope his brother was safely hiding somewhere.

And his priority right now was standing in front of him.

With Emma safe in your arms, you took a breath, steeling yourself for the final sprint to freedom.

You three tiptoed down the hallway when you turned a sharp corner and spotted a guy in black standing there. No visible weapons, which was a small victory in itself.

Your heart skipped a beat, but Russell quickly pulled you back next to the wall. He weighed his options, knowing he had to act fast.

“This ain’t going to be pretty. Just—“ he said as he motioned for you to turn around. You knew well what he was planning. And that indeed wasn’t going to be pretty. You nodded with a leaping heart and turned your back to him, clutching Emma’s head close to your chest, desperately trying to muffle any sounds that might come soon.

God, she's going to need a mountain of therapy after this. And maybe that puppy she’s been talking about.

Russell shot you a quick squeeze on the shoulder, a silent promise that everything would be okay. Then he stepped forward, moving with the kind of focus that made you hold your breath. You pulled Emma close with your heart racing as the seconds felt like goddamn hours.

There was a muffled thud.... and then silence. Russell’s hand on your back signaled it was safe, and you turned to see him standing over the guard, dusting off his hands with a grim, almost satisfied look.

“Alrighty” he whispered “no more interruptions, yeah?”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded, tightening your hold on Emma. Step by step, the three of you crept down the hallway, avoiding every echo and shadow, your goal almost within reach.

Then, up ahead, an exit sign cast a faint glow. Freedom was close enough to taste, and you exchanged a quick glance with Russell. You fult that tiny flicker of hope.

You took a deep breath, squeezing Emma a little tighter. Her small arms wrapped around your neck, a reminder of why you were risking everything. You need to stay calm.

Well, seemingly calm, at least.

You and Russell exchanged a look. Words weren’t necessary; you both knew exactly what was on the line here. Funny, you thought, how his combat skills now felt like a strange kind of comfort.

Just a few more steps down the hallway, and you ended up in a large, warehouse-style room, crates stacked high, lights flickering like something straight out of a bad action movie.

“Really? A crate room?” you muttered.

Russell scanned the area, eyeing a side door. “That might be our way out.”

“Oh yeah? Is that your gut talking, or do you actually know?”

Before he could shoot back, footsteps echoed down the hall. Russell hissed a quick curse and signaled for you to duck behind a stack of crates.

You crouched down, holding Emma close as the door creaked open and two guards strolled in, giving the room a once-over like they had it all under control.

“Think they’d make it this far?” one guard muttered.

The other chuckled. “No way. Shaw’s decent, but those two he’s with? Dead weight.”

Russell sized them up and he leaned in close. “Stay low.”

You gave a small nod, clutching Emma tighter.

Russell edged closer to the guards, blending into the shadows like a pro. In one smooth motion, he slammed the first guard into the second, and they both crumpled to the ground like a pair of falling dominoes. Before they could even register what was happening, he struck with quick punches and a perfectly timed knee, leaving them both out cold and wondering what just hit them.

Once they were on the floor, Russell wasted no time. He crouched down, quickly rifling through the guards’ gear. “We’re gonna need these” he muttered, pulling a pistol from one guard’s holster and a knife from the other. With practiced ease, he tucked the pistol into his waistband and handed the knife to you. “Think you can handle it?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looked you over.

You raised an eyebrow at the guards' bodies, really, desperately trying to convince yourself they’re just sleeping. As you gripped the knife, you tried to motion your position to cover most of the scene from Emma. It worked, she was only focused on you. And you were only focusing on the difficulty of keeping her close with one hand.

Man, she is getting big.

“Well, my self-defense teacher never covered how to use a knife” you quipped.

Russell chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Just use it on instinct. Don’t hesitate when it counts. And remember to—”

“To aim for the balls” you finished with a smirk.

“I’d really like to meet your teacher. Must be a real pro” he said with a smirk.

You shrugged. “Eh, he was handsome, sure. But turned out he kept secrets.”

“Sounds like a total douche” he muttered, though you caught the guilt in his voice.

“Yep. Was a major douche.”

“Was?”

You gave him a teasing glance. “Well… I’m still trying to figure out what he’s like now.”

With a small smile and a quick glance at the guards, he pocketed extra ammo and anything else that might come in handy. Armed and ready, he led you both to the side door.

With Emma snug in your arms and a renewed sense of determination, you stepped into the night together.

For a second, the three of you standing there almost looked like some offbeat family photo… bittersweet, and about as far from normal as it gets.

But the moment you took in your surroundings, you felt a chilly sensation. This sure as hell didn’t look like Idaho Falls. Nor the rundown warehouse you’d started in.

You had no idea where you were.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

Next on Tuesday’s Gone (Sneak Peak from Chapter 5)

Emma tilted her head while her expression turned adorably thoughtful. “You’re hairy. Like grandpa.”

Russell chuckled as he ran a hand through his beard. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s my pirate look.”

Her eyes lit up at the word pirate. “Are you a pirate?! Can I be one, too?”

“Absolutely” he replied. “But we have to be sneaky pirates, okay? No one can know we’re here.”

Your heart did a little flip at the sight. The way he talked to your daughter — his daughter — his voice surprisingly soft and sweet, even in this situation. Emma’s reaction wasn’t a shock, though. She had a habit of linking beards (like the one your dad rocked) with safety and familiar love.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

Whoa, we finally got that wonderfully chaotic family reunion! Can’t wait to dive deeper into Emma and Russell’s relationship in the upcoming chapters.

I hope you enjoyed reading.

Chapter 5 coming soon….

🤍Taglist🤍

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @winchesterwild78 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @zepskies @kr804573 @sebastianstangirl01 @kmc1989

[bunnys-kisses]

kink-o-ween - day twenty-two

george russell - mirror sex

tags: pwp/smut, insecure!reader, mirror sex, praise, established relationship, loving!george, teasing, doggy style, pull out method

a/n: heyyy, kinkoween is being finished (yay), october was a rough month for me. but i am back and ready to post the rest of it! thank you for the support and patience, it has really benefited me both emotionally and creatively!

kink-o-ween master-list

"what do you mean, my love?" george looked at you. an expression of worry crossed his handsome features.

you shifted from one foot to another. it felt weird to say it out loud. you felt your cheeks grow hot. this felt stupid, but you swallowed down the feeling. you looked at him and said, "george, i'm not pretty."

his expression changed a little and he reached for you. his hands so kind on your face as he looked you in the eyes. he replied, "well, of course you're not pretty. you're beautiful. the most beautiful woman i've ever seen or met."

the mirror in your shared bedroom with george was full length. it was good to make sure everything looked as it should without cutting anything off. you looked in it almost every day before you left the apartment. now it took on a different meaning as george put you on your knees in front of it.

he was behind you. you were still in the sundress that showed y a healthy amount of cleavage. a nice display for your lover. and george loved to sight of you in it. an off-white with apples on it.

"so beautiful." he said softly, "so, so beautiful." why don't you see what i see?"

"my chicken wing arms. how round my face is." you started, but were silenced as george turned your head to kiss you passionately on the lips.

"i don't want to hear it." he said, "so what? you look amazing in every angle. you're perfect in every angle i see of you."

you blushed before george gave you another sweet kiss. he then started to unzip the dress. while it looked great on you, it would look even better on the floor.

"you're so pretty... no, no, beautiful." he said softly as he pulled the sleeves of the dress off of you shoulders. he kissed the back of the left one and you made a soft noise.

"george."

he only responded by placing his lips on your neck as he wrapped his strong arms around you. he was always your protector. your lover. there was no need to have insecurities when he was with you. he then said, "look at yourself." he cooed and it made you shiver with want.

you shifted a little on your knees before you helped george get you out of your dress. george loved you in a good sundress, but to see if off of you. naked before him. it made him do a double take.

"look at you." he said, "look how beautiful you are." he tilted your head to the side to press a tender kiss at your pulse point.

"i just see myself." you said he rubbed himself up against you. you knew his cock was straining against his expensive jeans.

"say something nice about yourself." he said, "be nice to yourself." he knew it was hard for you. so he had to get creative about ways to help you gain a bit of confidence.

"george."

"just one thing." he egged you on as he held you in his arms. you were near nude in front of the mirror. exposed to yourself and your lover.

you replied, "i guess. i like my smile." you felt heat in your core. you felt the throb between your legs.

your lover kissed your temple, "excellent." he said with love. he got you out of your undergarments. this his clothes. both of you naked in front of the mirror. george caught glimpses of your naked for. he held onto your hips for a moment before he kissed your neck and shoulders.

"honey." you said as you ended up on your elbows with your hips raised for him. it excited your lover. the driver was enamored by you, in all the ways he could be.

he tilted your hips a little more and he sank his cock into you. inch by inch as he eased into you. he cursed under his breath for a moment before he said, "i love you. every inch of you. you drive me insane. i never want anyone else in my life." the fire fueled in his stomach as he started to move against you.

"you flirt." you moaned as you held onto the edge of the rug under you. the piece was expensive enough that you weren't going to get rug burn by the end of it.

george chuckles and said with love, "it's not flirting when it's the truth."

you moaned, "i love you too." and shifted your hips a little to get more comfortable.

"say something else about yourself. i want to hear it." he groaned as he moved against you. he could see the pleasure across your face in the reflection of the mirror.

your flushed a little bit. you felt the sting of heat in your ears, "just one other thing?" you asked as he thrusted.

"just one more."

you looked in the mirror as you were fucked with steady thrusts. you glimpsed at yourself and licked your lips, "i love my eyes. they're not the most interesting, but they're pretty. and i like that i can always make you laugh."

george smiled before he leaned over you further and kissed your face in places he could reach, "see was that so bad? saying nice things about yourself." his tone was a little teasing and it made your core feel warm.

you shuddered and moaned a little louder as you felt immense pleasure. you were aroused by this. to see your boyfriend make love to you.

"i love you." you moaned.

george shakily exhaled, "i love you too, every chance i get. i always need to tell you how much you mean to me." his words made you moan, your pleasure coursed through your body and in your blood. you clutched tightly onto the rug as you kept your gaze on the mirror in front of you.

"look at yourself." he purred as he worked his cock into you. your wetness left him feeling hot all over. he glanced at the mirror. he licked his lips at the sight of you.

he wished you saw what he saw everyday. how stunning you were both in appearance and also personality. you were a fire in george's soul, the inferno in his blood as he continued to rock against you. praise flowed freely from his lips and his words warmed your soul.

"you're so beautiful." he said as he moved against you nice and slow. his thrusts had force behind them, but he was gentle with you. you moaned and george kissed your bare back.

"please, fuck, honey."

"you can't stop me praising you." he remarked, "i want you to feel like you're on top of the world. that no one could stop you." he said as moved a little faster.

you could feel the pleasure bubble in your core as the rush flowed through you. you could feel the intense feeling all over you. you moaned, "i love you." you had no other words.

"and i love you." he promised as he worked his hips against your sweet cunt. your pussy felt amazing around his cock. george looked in the mirror at the sight of you drenched in pleasure.

you looked at the two of you, caught the sight of your lover staring. even now he looked s handsome. he pushed hair out of his face and the two of you continued to make love on the floor. your knees ached a little from the position but at that moment you didn't care.

"my beautiful girl." he said with heat tinged in his voice as he felt his orgasm close.

you were the first to finish with your face against the rug. you held onto it and moaned loudly. george worked your hips as he came soon after. hr pulled out and finished on your back with a tight groan. he shuddered and his cock twitched when he saw his cum covering your back.

"so, do you believe me now? that i think you're beautiful." he panted heavily. as he leaned back on his heels for a moment to admire you. he wiped the sweat from his forehead. it wasn't long before he was up off the ground to get tissues to clean your back with.

you admitted, "yes... i believe you." and when george returned he kissed you on the cheek before he cleaned you up. you melted a little at the touches.

if anyone thought you were beautiful, it would be george. and as you got your underwear back on, you admired yourself in the mirror. and maybe george was right. you were beautiful. <3

[nottswitch]

Hey! Can you do 46 and 6 with theo (smut and fluff like he's really just wanna help his girl <3 thankssss

heyyy, thanks for your request <3 love this, need theo to help me when i get cold ngl… also, this is based on real life experience, bc guess who also forgets to close the window for the night?

prompt list

6. "let me help."

46. "it’s so cold."

۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; theo m-list ; how to request

18+ smut

it was kind of stupid, how you kept forgetting to close the window for the night, especially now that it was november, infamous for its cold and gloomy nature. and once again, you woke up with a shiver, feeling your teeth chatter as soon as your brain fully turned on. your feet, despite being clad in fuzzy socks, were freezing, causing you to pull the blanket down a bit. it made the fabric slide off your shoulder, eliciting a frustrated groan from you. you just couldn’t win.

you were a bit relieved when you felt theo’s firm and warm body cuddling up to you from behind, his arm wrapped around your waist, his breath warming up your neck. the shivers he was giving you were definitely much more pleasant than the ones from the biting wind blowing through the window.

you hummed softly as you felt theo’s morning wood prodding your ass, the fabric of his sweatpants being the only barrier between your bodies. he moved his hips lazily and slowly against you, letting you feel every inch of him, while his lips started a wet trail from behind your ear down to the crook of your neck.

you sucked in a sharp breath when you felt the chilly air brush wet patches of skin left after theo’s gentle mouth. "it’s so cold," you complained, pressing yourself further into his chest, which caused the friction between your bottom and his length to increase. theo’s cock reacted by twitching and straining more against his sweatpants, the movements against you still lazy and slow, but growing a bit firmer.

"let me help, hm?" theo murmured into your neck. his hand gently pressed on your side, turning you so that you’d be laid out on your back. his form covered you fully from the top, the weight of him instantly making you warmer, as well as the heat pooling between your legs at the kisses he kept planting on your neck.

theo’s hand traveled down your body, careful not to lift your sweater up. as much as he’d want to feel your skin, he cared about you not catching the cold way more. finally, his fingers grazed the waistband of your pajama bottoms, pulling them down just enough for him to be able to slide between your legs.

"sorry, tesoro," he whispered, feeling shivers running up your thighs once the freezing air of the room touched your skin. "i’ll warm you up in a sec, alright?"

you nodded, smiling when he pulled the blanket from the sides, tucking it under your body. now the two of you were in a soft cocoon, your bodies flush against each other, creating even more warmth. you missed the moment when theo pulled down his sweatpants, whining quietly at the feeling of his flushed and throbbing cock suddenly right at your core. the heat of his arousal contrasted with the coldness of precum leaking from his tip, sending another small shiver through you.

your moan at theo’s slow entrance inside was eagerly swallowed by his lips, capturing yours in a soft, tender kiss. the movements of his hips were slightly constricted by the blanket tightly wrapped around you, but it didn’t prevent him from giving you all the pleasure you needed. on the contrary, the tip of his cock was forced to stay deep inside of you, constantly hitting the sweetest spots and bringing you to the edge quicker than usual.

theo planted kissed all over your face, keeping his lips unusually dry in order not to give you more chills. your hands gripped his sweatshirt on his back, your mouth at his ear as you moaned out a quiet "close, teddy…" you felt the vibration of theo’s contented hum against your cheek, and his soft "cum for me, amore" in response. your orgasm washed over you in a wave of heat, causing some sweat to break out on your neck and chest. the sweater you had on started to itch a bit due to the dampness of your skin underneath it, almost causing you to miss theo spilling into you with a quiet groan of his own.

"warmer now, tesoro?" he asked, looking at your flushed face with an adoring smile, his hand coming up to wipe away the small droplets of sweat dripping down your forehead.

you nodded, leaning into his touch, but then chuckled softly, glancing at the still-open window, where the rain could be heard rattling against the windowsill. "you know you could’ve just closed the window, right?" you asked, looking back at theo with a smirk, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth as your eyes studied his also flushed and sweaty face.

"yeah, but…" he drawled, giving you a small kiss between the words. "where’s the fun in that?"

[xvmgnhao]

Best Friend

pairing: anton lee x black!fem!reader

summary: Your best missed eating your pussy while you were gone.

warning: cunnilingus.

"Good morning, my beautiful best friend, " you say loudly as you walk into Anton's room, plop down on his bed, and spread out.

"What's up, Y/N?" Anton says, glancing back at you from his game.

You quickly slip off your shoes and cuddle up in his soft blankets. Sighing softly as all the stress leaves your body from finally being in the presence of your best friend.

"You know, Ton, I've actually missed you this week while I've been gone. And you're acting like you don't love me anymore." You say, focusing on the way his back flexes as he plays his game.

"Wait, w-what." He stutters out, fumbling with his controller. "I literally facetimed you every night you were gone."

"But, you said we would hang out as soon as I got back." You say rolling over in his bed.

"Yeah we will but I just really need to win this game." Anton says frustratedly as he continues to play his game.

"Whatever I'm gonna go cuddle with Wonnie." You say getting out of his bed and heading towards the door.

Before you can open the door completely, Anton grabs you by your soft waist.

"Don't please." He says wrapping his arms around you and dragging you back to his bed.

He envelopes your body with him as he presses you gently into the mattress. You feel his hands creeping up your squishy stomach, causing your breath to hitch.

"Ton what are you doing?" You say softly grabbing on to his thick arms.

"I dont know. I just wann a make you feel better." He says burying his face into your plump chest.

"I'm okay Anton. Please let me go." You say pulling at his arms.

"No you're so soft." He says pressing your chubby body deeper in his bed. "Just let me make you feel good."

You whine softly as you feel Anton grind lightly onto you cover cunt.

"Just one last time, please." He says looking up you with watery eyes.

You stay silent as his hands shoot up your top to grip your breasts. Pinching your nipples roughly he leans up to get a better look at you.

Anton's cock strains against his shorts as he takes in your plush form. Your shirt pushed up over the swell of your breast. Your pants legs ride up, showing off your pretty thighs.

"You're so beautiful," Anton says, groping your thighs as he kneels down in front of you.

He slips your pants off and underwear off hastily. Taking in the sight of your swollen clit and leaking hole.

"Anton please dont tease." You cry out scooting closer to his face.

Anton silently takes your wet bud into his mouth, sucking gently. You feel his finger circle your creamy opening. Spreading your legs more for him. You moan loudly, bucking your hips into his warm mouth.

Anton grips your plump tummy pulling your sweet cunt deeper into his mouth. You continuously tremble as you feel his fingers stretch your tight pussy.

Anton curls his finger inside you hitting your g-spot. You arch your bad so hard you feel as though your going to break.

"Anton please I'm so close." You cry out feeling tears run off your cheeks.

Anton sucks your clit a little harder, taking in your sweet essence. You cry out loudly as your orgasm washes over you. Shaking wildly in his arms. Anton continues eating you out, helping you ride out your orgasm.

"Oh my god." You breathe out as Anton parts from your throbbing cunt.

Anton kisses you passionately. You taste yourself on his soft lips. Moaning into his mouth, he grips your body tightly.

[sowoozoo-7]

Love, Lust & Litigation | Ch 7 (JJK, KNJ)

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader x Namjoon

Genre: lawyer!AU, coworkers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, explicit sexual content, threesome, oral sex (m + f receiving), protected penetrative sex (m + f receiving), slight dom!namjoon

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: she's heeeeere, took a long time bc smut is hard, y'all. all that's left is the epilogue. unbeta'd bc fck it we ball, enjoyyy 💜✨

mlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | interlude | ch 6 | ch 7 | epilogue

“You’re leaving?”

Everyone pauses in a collective inhale, the moment suspended in time. 

Then, Namjoon flinches at the question, the world fast forwards back into action, and you remember that you’re in public, that this is a work dinner, and that you’re meeting peers in your industry. You swallow the burst of panic, and look over at Jungkook. He half-stands, as if he’s about to wrestle Namjoon to the ground and never let him leave. Guilt shadows Namjoon’s face as he looks at the two of you. 

None of you have done a good enough job of moderating your features because Jackson immediately backtracks. 

“Hey bro, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was a secret. I shouldn’t have—“ 

“Don’t stress about it, man,” says Namjoon, turning to his friend with an easygoing smile, that diplomatic mask he wears in important meetings. You hate it. “I was going to announce it when we got back on Monday anyway.” 

You pull Jungkook back to sitting with a hand on his arm. He fiddles with the napkin on his lap before looking up at you, a lost look on his face that mirrors how you’re feeling on the inside. 

The reunion between Namjoon and Jackson doesn’t last much longer, the easy chat between the old college friends now strained. You reach for your drink as Namjoon wraps up the conversation, but your hand shakes too much when you pick it up. He’s your boss, just another face at the office, you try to tell yourself. The wine glass sits on the table, abandoned. 

As he says his final niceties, Namjoon stays facing towards Jackson, watching his retreating back for a long moment. He takes a deep breath and steels his shoulders before he turns back to the table. He tries to act nonchalant as he takes a sip of his wine. His hands don’t shake, and the stiff smile stays on his face. 

“So.” Jungkook breaks the silence that hangs heavy over your group. “You’re leaving.” 

The accusation sits at the table, a fourth dinner companion making everyone ill at ease.

Namjoon nods in response. Jungkook purses his lips and worries his lip ring, waiting for an actual answer. Namjoon’s eyes flit to your face, but you keep quiet. Silence has as much power as any question to get answers. He knows this; he taught you. 

“Remember the songwriter we represented?” 

The sudden change of topic throws you for a loop. “What does this have to do with her?” 

Namjoon twirls his wineglass between his fingers. “She wanted new in-house counsel, and reached out last month. She was really pleased with how the firm handled her case.” 

“How I  handled her case,” you say sharply. 

It stings that she didn’t reach out to you first. Of course she reached out to Namjoon first, though; she melted at the merest hint of Namjoon’s dimple during your initial meeting. Maybe you’re pissed that you melted at the merest hint of a dimple. And now here’s the owner of the dimple, deserting you. Or at least, that’s what it feels like. You don’t want to acknowledge that you’re not even a blip on his radar in his decision-making process because at the end of the day, you’re just a junior employee in the firm. 

He tilts his head in acknowledgement, and your temper deflates as quickly as it ignited. You brush the interjection out of the air with your hands and go back to the matter at hand. 

“I thought you loved your job at Bang and Associates.”

You hate that your voice cracks a bit while you speak. 

“Your friend was right, you were about to make partner. Why now?”

Jungkook’s voice sounds so much stronger than yours, and you hate him a little for that too. 

“Personal reasons.” 

You and Jungkook scoff in unison. Not a good enough answer. 

“It’s a lot of things.” Namjoon studies the glass in his hands while he considers his answer. “The long hours are a big part of it. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve been feeling more like a robot than a person these days. I was ready to say no when her team reached out, but after I slept on it, I realized, I have no life outside the firm. Weekends are nonexistent. Everything is a fire that needs put out, ASAP. This will be a good change.” 

The tension drains from the conversation. This is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen your boss. To fault him for this reasoning, for being human, would be childish and petty.

Namjoon reaches for the wine and helps himself to a generous pour.

“You know, she asked about you, Jungkook.” You can tell he’s just trying to change the subject, bring the conversation back to something more light-hearted, but the sudden turn leaves you off-kilter again. 

“Who?”

“The singer. She wanted your number for, ah… personal reasons. I had to tell her you were otherwise engaged.” 

Namjoon’s gaze flicks to yours briefly, and you can’t stop a flush creeping up your cheeks. 

“Yeah.” Jungkook’s hand makes its way back to your thigh and you place your hand on his. “I am.” 

Namjoon clocks this movement and clears his throat. 

“How did this all start anyway? Usually, you can tell when people in the office are about to get together, but it took a lot of us by surprise.” 

You make a face. “I didn’t realize we were such a hot topic of conversation.” 

“Everyone talks,” he says with a shrug. 

You and Jungkook exchange a look. Tonight’s revelation has sent everything into a tailspin. What’s one more to the mix? Jungkook shrugs at your unasked question.

“Mutual pining,” you say, turning back to Namjoon. 

He raises an eyebrow. “For each other?” 

“For you,” says Jungkook. 

Namjoon chokes on his wine. 

It’s a relief to finally say it out loud. To admit it. Your hand tightens on Jungkook’s while you wait for Namjoon to recover. 

“Me?” 

“During the Christmas party. We got to talking, and… ” Jungkook looks at you for reassurance, and you squeeze his hand. “Turns out we were both head over heels for you.” 

“Wait… were?” 

Each new turn in this conversation feels like another landmine being triggered, blasting you into the unknown. 

“Are,” you say. “Present tense.” 

Jungkook lets out a sharp breath. “Yeah. Still are.”

Namjoon doesn’t meet either of your gazes across the table, eyes focused on the bottle of wine in the middle of the table instead. You bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything else. All your cards are on the table. 

Namjoon runs a hand over his face before speaking. “You’re only saying this because I’m leaving.” 

“You’re only asking because you’re leaving,” you retort. 

“Look, we’re all chicken-shits when it comes to this, okay?” says Jungkook, putting a placating hand down on the table. “But we’ve said our part. We both like you, a lot. And we’re hoping you like both of us, too. Together.” 

Namjoon looks like words are stuck in his throat. 

After a long moment, you scoff, shaking your head. “Yoongi was right, then, when he said—“ 

“Yoongi says a lot of things.” 

“Was he pulling it out of his ass, hmm? When he said you were too hung up on doing the right thing instead of going for what you want?” 

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret them. A muscle tics in Namjoon’s cheek as he clenches his jaw.

“Fuck. Sorry, I —“

Before you can finish your sentence, Jungkook pulls you up to standing. 

“We’re gonna go get the check. And we’ll wait for you at the hotel. Take your time.” 

You glance back once as Jungkook leads you through the restaurant. Namjoon slumps in his chair, staring out over the city. 

Your footsteps echo in the hotel room as you pace. The TV makes a tinny attempt to fill the hollow emptiness with the sounds of a syndicated sitcom. You stop every so often at the window to look out at the buildings disappearing into the low clouds tinged yellow by the city lights.

By the second episode of the sitcom, you’ve exhausted your patience for canned laughter and stilted acting. You flop on the couch next to Jungkook and flip through the channels, trying to find something, anything, to distract you. Every channel is celebrating Valentie’s Day by playing sappy romcoms. The swelling string music and moon-eyed pretty people annoy you even more than the canned laughter, and you turn the TV off in frustration.

Jungkook has his phone out, swiping aimlessly on TikTok and you join him in pretending to watch as the memes go by.

“Did I go too far? At the restaurant?”

“I don’t know.” 

You sit on the couch for what seems like hours before the door lock beeps open. 

You’re on your feet before you can think, Jungkook beside you. It’s out of a scene in one of those stupid romantic movies, how the door swings open in slow motion and Namjoon appears, bringing a chill in with him. 

“Oh, hi,” he says when he sees the both of you looking at him like spooked deer. His cheeks are red with either cold or embarrassment. “Um, I thought about it on the way here, and I’m in.” 

Your heart jumps into your throat, but you don’t let yourself process the words because he’s started to shiver. His shoulders are damp and droplets of water cling to his hair. 

“Did you walk here in the rain?” 

He runs his hand through his hair. Strands clump together where he runs his hand through. 

“Snowing.” 

You turn to the window. Flurries dance in the air, blurring the cityscape, softening the harsh lights from the buildings nearby. 

“I’ll get you a towel.” 

When you return from the bathroom, Jungkook has already taken the wet suit jacket and is in the process of draping it over a chair. Namjoon stands sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. You hand him the towel, wanting to run it through his hair, but not having the courage to reach up and do so. 

His cheeks stay red once he’s done rubbing his hair dry. You’re flushed too, because now you’ve had time to actually process what he said when he came in. Should you bring it up now? 

He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and exhales harshly through his nose instead. Jungkook worries his lip piercing and picks at the skin around his nails. You stand between them, heart pounding in your chest. You’re all standing at the precipice but you don’t know how to take the leap.

Namjoon clears his throat before speaking. 

“Um, I don’t know if you heard before but—“ he clears his throat again “—I’m in. For whatever this is.” 

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and you can’t bring yourself to produce words. Jungkook looks equally shell-shocked.

The moment drags on in silence.

“I’m trying to be brave but neither of you are saying anything?” The words should sound harsh, but you’ve never heard Namjoon sound so unsure, so small. 

“Now that we’re here, I…” You wish you sounded more confident. 

“Here,” Jungkook says as he reaches out to take Namjoon’s hand. Namjoon looks down at his hand as if he’s never seen it before. You follow suit, and Namjoon looks at you with a fragile hope that makes your heart squeeze in your chest. 

“Don’t overthink it,” says Jungkook. He’s talking to Namjoon, but you try to take the words to heart, too. 

“I don’t think I know how to do that.” 

He rests his chin on Namjoon’s shoulder. “Just be here,” he says. “Take it one step at a time.” 

“How?” 

“Start like this.” 

Jungkook guides Namjoon’s hand to his cheek, and leans into it, closing his eyes. 

“What’s next?” asks Jungkook, voice gentle. 

Namjoon’s thumb runs over his lips. Jungkook lets out a shuddery exhale. The tension in his body shows he’s holding back, letting Namjoon move at his own pace, as if Namjoon were a rare and skittish animal. 

“And then?” 

Namjoon rests his forehead against Jungkook’s and slowly, inevitably, their lips connect. It’s chaste, just a press of lips against lips, but Jungkook melts into it, letting out the tiniest little whimper.

It’s something so intimate, you falter back a step, your hold on Namjoon’s hand going slack. But before you can pull away, Namjoon’s grip tightens and tugs you in closer. He turns to look at you, the expression on his face tender, and scared. His hand comes to stroke your cheek too, and it makes you want to cry, how delicately he’s handling you. 

It takes just a second, but feels like an eternity for him to press his lips to yours, for you to rise onto your toes to meet him halfway. You feel again like you’re on the edge of something, like any second, everything is about to change. You don’t know what you expected, but what you get is the softest lips, plush against yours. Gentle, chaste. A fairytale ending kiss that teases what’s to come. 

As Namjoon opens his lips against yours, you’re dizzy with the realization that you’ve been over the precipice, already falling headlong into the unknown, the first step taken hours, days, maybe even weeks ago. 

He turns to Jungkook and kisses him again, deeper. Jungkook whines as Namjoon bites his lower lip. Then he turns to you, and you taste Jungkook on Namjoon’s lips. And with a sigh of relief, everything clicks into place. There was a missing piece in your life and it was this, you and Namjoon and Jungkook, together.  

“What’s next?” asks Namjoon, eyes closed as he speaks into the disappearing space between the three of you. 

You tug and are tugged to the couch where Jungkook pushes Namjoon to sit. Jungkook sits on one side and you sit on the other, bringing his face towards you and you kiss him once, twice, then run your lips up his jawline and down his neck, inhaling the scent of him, musky and heady. Jungkook turns Namjoon’s head and kisses him like he wants to devour him whole. 

Namjoon’s shirt collar gets in the way of your quest to discover the spot that makes him squirm, and you unbutton the first couple of buttons of his shirt to get access. He hisses when you nip at the spot just where his neck meets his shoulder. 

You spend some time in your new favorite place, tasting and teasing with tongue and teeth, but the new inches of golden skin aren’t enough. You straddle one of Namjoon’s spread legs and work on unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. Jungkook looks on as work your way down. His hand comes to rest on Namjoon’s upper thigh, fingers tracing light circles. You pull out the tucked-in ends of the shirt and let it fall open. 

“Wow.” 

The word sighs out from your lips as you sit back to look. Because Namjoon Kim is magnificent, skin glowing golden in the lamplight. Jungkook's muscles are more defined, but there's power underneath his skin. Everything you see makes you want to take a bite. 

Your gaze works its way up to his face, and the look in his eyes sends a shiver of want straight to the heat between your legs. 

Jungkook smirks at your reaction. “Never gets old.” 

“You’ve been keeping this to yourself,” you say, accusingly. 

Namjoon rumbles out a chuckle as Jungkook shrugs.

“I’m selfish. But it’s nice, right?” Jungkook says into Namjoon’s neck, where he starts on sucking a mark into the exposed skin. Namjoon's eyes close and he leans into the sensation.

More than nice, you think, letting your fingertips graze over Namjoon’s stomach. His muscles jump at your touch, eyes flying open.

“Ah, your hands are cold,” 

“They’ll warm up eventually,” Jungkook answers on your behalf. 

Your hands wander up, landing on his pecs. Namjoon grunts when you give them a squeeze. You bite your lip to suppress a giggle. They’re as good as you imagined, firm and warm under your touch. 

“What’s so funny, baby?” 

The nickname uttered in his husky voice makes your core clench. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this for along time,” you say, giving them another squeeze. 

“And I’ve been wanting to do this.” 

Namjoon’s hand comes to the curve of your ass and he squeezes, bringing you closer, guiding your hips to grind down. God, his thighs. You bite back a moan. 

He turns to Jungkook and puts a hand on his waist. 

“And this.”

He kisses Jungkook’s neck as he palms the front of Jungkook’s straining pants. Jungkook’s eyes shut and he exhales out a groan.

You almost can’t believe it. Being here, with the two of them like this. 

Namjoon’s hands press down on your hips, and you roll your hips down again, the feeling of his muscles between your legs making you slick. But, as much as you want to get lost in the sensation and get yourself off on Namjoon’s thighs, you have much more pressing matters at hand. 

You start at his collarbones, kissing your way down his chest, grazing his nipples with your teeth. He hisses at the contact, and you do it again just to feel him squirming beneath you. You clamber off the couch and settle between his spread legs, kissing all the way down until you reach the waistband of his pants. They’re both looking at you, waiting to see what you’ll do next. You bite your lip in anticipation as you unbutton and unzip his pants. 

His cock springs free when you take both his pants and boxers off, the tip dark, ready. You take him in your hands, and the weight of him, how he could feel inside you, makes your mouth water. 

He’s holding his breath as you lean down. You meet his eyes as you wrap your lips around the head. He lets out a shuddery breath as your tongue comes out to tease the tip. 

“Fuck.” 

Both mean speak in unison. You press open-mouthed kisses against the shaft as you work your way down to the base, then lick a stripe up to the top. Jungkook meets you at the tip, capturing your mouth, licking into you, then onto Namjoon. 

He lowers his head onto Namjoon’s cock, and as he comes back up, you switch places, and take turns taking him deeper and deeper each time. Namjoon’s fingers twine through your hair, his other hand tangled in Jungkook’s wavy locks, setting the pace. His head falls back against the back of the couch. 

The tip meets the back of your throat, and Namjoon’s hips twitch up into you.

“Shit, baby.” 

His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as you pull off with a pop. Jungkook, never one to be outdone, sinks all the way down, nose pressed against Namjoon’s abdomen. You can see the moment he swallows. 

“Fuck. Wait, wait. Stop.” 

Namjoon pulls him off and covers his face with his hands. You sit back on your heels. Jungkook wipes his mouth as he exchanges looks with you. Did you do something wrong? Is he rethinking his decision? You don’t know what you’ll do if he changes his mind and doesn’t want to do this after all. 

You wait for a long moment, watching his chest rise and fall rapidly. 

“Sorry, it’s just… it’s too soon.” The sound comes muffled from behind his hands. “I don’t wanna come yet.” 

Oh. You and Jungkook breathe sag in relief, the uncertainty draining from your body.  

You stand and pull Namjoon's hands from his face and smooth his hair back. 

“Don’t apologize.” One hands comes to rest against his jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. He looks overwhelmed and a little embarrassed. “We can take it slow.” 

You’re close enough that your breath intermingles, and you watch as the embarrassment and worry on his face melt into incredulity and then into desire. He bridges the gap between you and leans up to kiss you. At first, it’s just a press of the lips, but you deepen the kiss, open mouthed, tongue tangling with his. He nips at your bottom lip and tugs a moan from you. His hands graze down your back and come to rest on your waist, hands bunching in the fabric. 

“Why am I the only one naked?” he mutters under his breath. 

Your hands fly to the back of your dress, but Namjoon stops you. He stands, and pulls you up with him. He turns to Jungkook, who has been sitting on his heels, watching, and points to the couch. 

“Sit.” 

Jungkook hoists himself up and goes to take his shirt off, but Namjoon shakes his head.

“Just wait.” 

Jungkook quirks an eyebrow and puts his hands up in surrender. He sits on the edge of the couch, leaning forward on his elbows, eyes never leaving Namjoon. 

He turns you to face Jungkook and stands behind you. With gentle hands, Namjoon finds the zipper of your dress and at a torturous pace, drags it down. A shiver runs down your spine as he brushes the dress off your shoulders. It pools around your ankles, leaving you in your bra and panties. He sweeps your hair to one side and presses his lips to your pulse point. The touch and the cool air send goosebumps across your skin. 

Namjoon’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you tighter to him as he works a mark into your neck. You don’t know what to focus on, the feel of his lips on your neck, his cock pressed against your lower back, or the tips of his thumbs just barely grazing the underside of your breasts. Jungkook sits back on the couch, palming his erection over his jeans, gaze heavy on you. You know the look on his face, the patient hunger. The intense focus of it grows the heat pooling in your belly.

It’s almost a relief when Namjoon’s hands slip behind your back and take your bra off. He cups your breasts, and you arch into the warmth of his hands. He hums into your skin and you moan when he takes your nipples between his fingers, teasing them. 

Your hand comes between your legs, pressing your fingers into the soaked fabric of your underwear. A whimper escapes through your lips at the stimulation.

Jungkook comes off the couch to kneel at your feet. He peels your underwear off you but before he can bury his nose between your legs, Namjoon’s voice stops him. 

“I said, wait.” 

Jungkook sits back on his feet with a little huff. Frustration plays across his face, but even so his pupils dilate as he looks up at Namjoon.

“Stand up.”

Cold air hits your body as Namjoon comes to stand in front of Jungkook. He makes quick work of Jungkook’s clothes, no lingering touches or caresses as he works buttons and zippers. Impatience doesn’t get rewarded. 

Jungkook’s clothes join yours on the ground and Namjoon points to the nearest bedroom. Yours. 

You spare a brief thought for the state of your bedroom — sometimes your clothes like to explode out of their suitcase through no fault of your own — but it’s pristine. You send a silent word of thanks up for daily hotel housekeeping. 

“On the bed, both of you.”

It would be awkward to crawl on the bed fully naked were the anticipation of what’s to come not thrumming through your skin. You sit up against the headboard, Jungkook next to you, legs outstretched. 

Namjoon gets on the bed and hovers over you to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth. Your hips jerk as he brings his hand between your legs and drags his knuckles over your slick folds. He doesn’t linger. 

“Tease.” 

He winks at you — which, somehow, makes you blush instead of rolling your eyes — as he leans over Jungkook and pulls him up by the chin. The kiss is all tongues and gasped breaths. 

Namjoon pulls away, leaving Jungkook to fall back against the headboard, dazed. He kneels and wastes no time in putting Jungkook’s cock in his mouth, eyes never leaving Jungkook’s. He groans and reaches for Namjoon’s hair. 

“Hands off,” says Namjoon around a mouthful of cock. 

“Fuck.” Jungkook’s hands twist into the duvet as Namjoon dives back down. 

The sight of the two of them, Jungkook’s muscles straining as he keeps his hands to himself, Namjoon taking Jungkook until his nose reaches his abdomen, has you pressing your legs together. You reach between your legs, desperate for any type of relief, but Namjoon stops you with a look. 

Hands off for you, too. 

You reach out a tentative hand toward Jungkook, and Namjoon sees, but doesn’t say anything. Tacit permission given, you spread your hand on Jungkook’s hip. He twitches at the contact, but doesn’t move. 

You brush his hair back from his forehead with your other hand. “Staying so still. Such a good boy.” 

He whines at the praise. “Ah fuck. Why does that fucking work for me?”

“Is this all you ever wanted?” you whisper in his ear. “Namjoon taking you so well.” 

“God, yeah.” 

Namjoon hums around his cock and you swallow the moan that rises from Jungkook's throat, kissing his pretty lips, sliding your tongue into his mouth. 

It’s not long until he leans back. 

“I’m gonna come,” he says with a gasp. You can feel his muscles tensing under your grip. 

“Tell him that.” 

“Fuck! I’m coming!” 

Namjoon somehow smirks around a mouthful of cock and swallows to take Jungkook even deeper. Jungkook’s head presses back into the mattress as he comes with a groan down Namjoon’s throat. 

Then, Namjoon pops off Jungkook’s cock and opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue to show he swallowed every last drop. You and Jungkook take twin gasps of breath. Fresh arousal pools between your legs. Not even in your wildest fantasies late at night alone in your room had you let yourself imagine that. 

“Fuck. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” says Jungkook, letting his head drop back down onto the pillows. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, Namjoon’s hand lingering on his softening cock. 

“Mmm,” says Namjoon, crawling up the bed to kiss the underside of Jungkook’s chin, as if he hadn’t just blown your minds. Jungkook pulls Namjoon in by the back of his neck for an open-mouthed kiss. 

You squirm a little, pressing your thighs together, and Namjoon notices.

“You’ve been patient.” He bites his lip before he says, “Good girl.” 

“Fuck. Why does that work for me?” you wail.

Jungkook laughs, as he lays back, spent. “Can dish it out but can’t take it.” 

You go to smack his arm, but he catches your hand and twines his fingers with yours. He presses a kiss to the back of your hand before releasing it. 

You look back at Namjoon. 

“Well, do I get a treat for being a good girl?” 

You let your legs fall open. Namjoon’s eyes follow your hands as you trace your curves down to the apex of your thighs.

“Is she always like this?” Namjoon asks, addressing Jungkook but looking at your fingers not quite touching where you want to be touched the most. Heat creeps up your cheeks as Namjoon’s gaze travels up your body to meet your eyes. You bite your lip. Namjoon’s gaze is intense on the best of days, but tonight, it burns. 

“She behaves. Most of the time.” 

“See?” you say with a coy smile, through burning cheeks. “I’m a good girl.”

Namjoon leans over you, getting close but not close enough for your lips to make contact. 

“What if I don’t want you to be a good girl?” His lips brush over yours as he speaks. Heat shoots to your core. 

“I can be whatever you want me to be.” 

He breathes out a chuckle and presses a kiss to where your jaw meets your ear, and works his way down your neck, dropping a kiss on the tender spot he worked at earlier. 

Where he was quick with Jungkook, he teases you, stopping at your breasts to take one nipple into his mouth. You arch up into his mouth at the contact, and he brings a hand to your waist to stop you from moving. 

His big hands are gentle, but you want them to bruise. 

Jungkook lays to the side and just watches at first, eyes glassy post-orgasm. As Namjoon continues down your body, Jungkook has you sit up a bit as he slides in behind you, bringing you to rest back down on him. He wraps an arm around your waist, and the other sinks into your hair, guiding your head to the side to work on marking the other side of your neck. 

You’re dripping by the time Namjoon gets to your cunt. He runs a finger through your slick, and you shiver at the contact, hands twisting into the sheets. His eyes close as he tastes.

“Sweet,” he says, almost to himself. 

He slowly settles between your legs, placing one above his shoulder, then the other. He drags it out, kissing your inner thighs as he makes his way closer and closer to your center. 

You cry out when he finally licks a stripe up your slit. When he wraps his lips around your clit, you let out a strangled sob. He hums in satisfaction as you squirm at the contact. You’re so keyed up that the vibration has your eyes rolling back into your head. It’s much too fast, but not enough at the same time. You move your hips against his face, but he places a hand on your hip. 

“You’re gonna stay still, like a good girl?” Jungkook whispers in your ear. 

“Yes. Fuck.”

Your promise is hard to keep as Namjoon slips a finger into you. It takes every ounce of willpower to not clamp your legs around him.

“Damn, baby. So tight.” 

His voice against you, deep and rumbling, makes you clench even tighter around his finger. He adds another finger, working you open, mouth on your clit, tongue teasing with every thrust. 

Jungkook takes your breast in his hand and teases the nipple between his fingers, keeps breathing obscenities in your ear when his mouth isn’t on your skin. Your orgasm builds with every thrust of Namjoon’s fingers, with every dirty word Jungkook whispers in your ears. 

You whine as Namjoon adds a third finger and presses insistently against your sweet spot. Your gasping breaths and the lewd sound of his fingers moving in and out of you fill the room. 

“You’re gonna be a good girl, and come for us?” Jungkook breathes against your ear. 

You nod, head pressed against Jungkook's, and whine out a yes.

Namjoon sucks against your clit and you can’t hold still anymore. Your hands come to his hair and you hold him in place as you fuck your self against his face. He hums against you in amusement and that pushes you over the edge. Pleasure ripples over you in waves, core clenching, Namjoon’s name on your lips. His fingers fuck you through your orgasm, mouth never letting go of your clit. It’s not until your hands push him off you that his fingers slip from your cunt. 

Your heart thuds in your chest as Namjoon slips out from under your legs and you come back down to Earth. You miss the warmth of him between your legs already, even though you’re so sensitive you might cry at another touch.  

He climbs up on the bed, kneeling into the bed between your thighs. You almost come again when he puts his slick-soaked fingers between Jungkook’s lips. It’s sinful, the way Jungkook takes his time licking one finger clean, then the other. 

Namjoon replaces his fingers with his tongue. Jungkook’s moans reverberate against your back. You press up towards them, joining in a mess of tongues, skin on skin, breaths heavy. Hands and lips wander, discovering sensitive areas, staking claim on curves and hollows. 

Jungkook is hard again against your back, and Namjoon’s stiff cock pokes into your stomach. Their movement makes his thigh graze against your still-sensitive core. You gasp at the first contact, still sensitive, but your skin cries out for more. Fingernails press into his waist as you pull him closer to grind against his thigh. He grunts in surprise at the movement, but meets you thrust for thrust. You’re on the verge of crying from how sensitive you are but still you want more. 

“Needy,” says Jungkook between open mouthed kisses. 

“Shut it,” you whine. 

Namjoon breathes a chuckle before kissing Jungkook once more. He grinds down into you until you see stars, then sits back on his heels. Cold air sweeps across your skin, and behind you, Jungkook lets out a whimper in protest. You pout at the distance. 

“How do you want this?” His eyes search yours, then Jungkook’s, hesitant hope written out across his features. 

You sit up, still nestled between Jungkook’s legs. 

Jungkook speaks first, propped up on his elbows behind you. “It’s not about what we want. Not tonight.” 

“Yeah.” You nod, looking at Namjoon as he kneels before you. “How do you want us?”

His face scrunches as he battles with himself, and you wait. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on your shoulder, and his thumbs caresses your hip, a mindless habit he’s picked up. You both wait as Namjoon bites his bottom lip, deliberating asking for what he really wants. 

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, cheeks flaming bright red as he speaks. 

“I want Jungkook to fuck me, while I fuck you.” 

A new wave of arousal flows through you as you let out a shuddery breath.

“Fuck.” Jungkook shifts behind you on the bed. “Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. One sec.” 

He slips out from behind you and clambers off the bed, nearly sprinting out of the room. 

Namjoon slumps down on the bed beside you, face up, as if his request took too much out of him. You reach down to stroke his cheek. He’s flushed, chest rising and falling. His hand covers yours, fingers warm, strong as they link with yours. 

“You all good?” you ask. 

“Yeah, just overwhelmed.” He places your hand over his heart and you can feel it beating strong, fast. “Overwhelmed but good. I didn’t think this where we would end up tonight.” 

“None of us did, but I think we all hoped.” 

Jungkook bounds back into the room and drops a box of condoms and a travel-size bottle of lube on the bed. 

“Supplies!” he says as he bounces back onto the bed, the impact jostling you and Namjoon.

You all laugh at his excitement and you reach across Namjoon to pull Jungkook into a sweet kiss. 

“Always so optimistic,” you say with a smile. 

“Always prepared, that’s all.” He gives you your favorite smile, all scrunched up in happiness and you can’t resist pulling him in for another kiss. Namjoon props himself up on his elbows and joins in. Lips wander, hands caress, and you all get distracted for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of each other finally in this place, together.

Then, Jungkook pulls away and asks, “Um… how do we…”

“Here,” you say, laying on your back and pulling Namjoon on top of you, ass up. The weight of him on you is satisfying, like the world’s best weighted blanket. He props himself up on his elbows, one on each side of your head. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hey,” you respond. 

Jungkook kneels and rubs his hands on Namjoon’s back, massaging his spine as he kisses his way down to his lower back. Namjoon closes his eyes and hums at the sensation. You reach up and stroke his cheek. Jungkook kneads Namjoon’s cheeks, spreading them, about to start. 

He hesitates. “Is this the first time you…” 

“No, but it’s been a while.” Namjoon inhales sharply as the first drops of lube hit his ass. “Why is it always cold, though?” 

Jungkook’s hands spread the lube around, warming the area, teasing Namjoon’s rim. It’s like you can feel Jungkook’s hands on you, as Namjoon closes his eyes to the sensation, body moving naturally against the other man. He buries his face into your neck and the noises he’s making send you breathing heavy, too.

Your hand comes to the back of his neck, nails lightly scratching against his short hair. 

Jungkook works a finger in, slowly, gently. Namjoon tenses at the intrusion, but then relaxes against you with a moan. 

“Good?” asks Jungkook, rubbing small circles into Namjoon’s back.  

“Fuck. Yeah, good. Good.”

Jungkook drops a kiss to Namjoon’s back, and pushes slowly in and out to get him used to the feeling. You pull Namjoon into a kiss, exploring his mouth with all the languid movements of Jungkook behind him. 

 “You can add another.” 

And Jungkook, patient, the most patient you’ve ever seen him, works another finger into Namjoon’s hole, working him open. 

“Shit. You’re so tight.” 

Namjoon lifts his head and you see the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. Namjoon looking five different kinds of fucked out, pupils blown, pleasure the only thing on his face. You prop one of your knees up and his cock slips between your legs, teasing your entrance. As he fucks himself back onto Jungkook’s fingers, you move against him, craving the friction, more, more. 

“I think I’m ready,” says Namjoon. 

Foil packets get ripped open, condoms put on, and logistically, the first position you’re in doesn’t work out. Namjoon lines himself up with your entrance and Jungkook tries to position himself behind Namjoon, but the angle is all wrong. You’re ready to give it a go anyway, desperate as you are, but Namjoon holds back before you get any further. 

“Maybe this doesn’t actually work outside of… you know…” Namjoon says with a wave of his hand. 

“Wait, it does,” says Jungkook. “Let’s try it like this…” 

He arranges the three of you, with you on your side and Namjoon spooning you from behind. Jungkook settles in behind Namjoon and tells you to move your leg up just a little bit and— 

Your breath hitches as Namjoon’s cock slips through your folds and brushes up against your clit. You can’t see what Jungkook is doing, but him and Namjoon let out a groan at the same time. 

“Yeah,” says Namjoon breathlessly, “yeah, I think this is it.”

“Fuck.” 

“Ready?” 

Namjoon guides his cock into your entrance and you moan as you feel him enter you for the first time, thick and long. He pushes in slowly, so you can feel every inch of him moving through you. You take a deep breath as he bottoms out, getting used to the stretch. His bottom arm wraps around you, hand splayed out on your collarbone, anchoring you to this moment, as if you are his tether to Earth. In this position, you can feel every movement behind you, as Jungkook enters Namjoon. Namjoon’s cock twitches inside you in response, and he groans in your ear. 

Jungkook sets the pace, thrusting slowly. The movement is stilted at first, but then they find a rhythm, and you meet them, hips swiveling onto Namjoon every time he thrusts forward.

A chorus of moans and obscenities fill the room as each person chases their own high. The rhythm falters but Namjoon takes over, easier now, as he fucks into you then himself back onto Jungkook.

You crane your head to look back at Jungkook. His eyebrows meet in concentration, and he bites his lip as he rolls his hips to meet Namjoon's ass.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he grunts.

Namjoon picks up the pace as he pounds into you, hips snapping against you, and all you can do is take it, hands braced against the mattress. He brings his hand between your legs, circling your clit in insistent circles. Your legs start to shake.

"Come on, baby," he breathes in your ear, and you cry out. You're coming undone again, tight around him, and all you hear is his groan as you pulse around him.

He fucks you though your orgasm, grunting as he tries to hold back, but he follows soon after, spilling into the condom with a cry. Jungkook’s right behind him, breathing expletives as he comes.

The moment pauses, suspended as the three of you try to catch your breath. No one speaks for a long while, and you realize this could be it. You can't see their faces and right now, really, this could be the end of it. You shake your head to clear the thought before tears can threaten to prick at your eyes.

“We should do that again sometime.” It's a weak joke to ease the tension, but you don't want this moment to flit away.

Your whole body shakes as Namjoon and Jungkook laugh behind you. Namjoon squeezes you closer, tight enough to push your breath from your lungs for a brief second, and then he loosens his hold. His cock slips out from you as you twist in his arms and the human knot you’ve become comes undone. Namjoon lays on his back, Jungkook sprawled next to him. You drape yourself across Namjoon to reach out to Jungkook, and he squeezes your hand when you finally reach him. 

Your heartbeat synchronizes to Namjoon's as you lay on his chest. The pounding beat slows as the second pass, and his hand comes to rest on your waist.

Once you're fully back to reality, you become more and more aware of the state of your bed. The room smells like sex and you're sticky with sweat and slick. You push up to get out of bed and Namjoon follows. He swings his legs over the edge to sitting and catches you by the waist before you can go any further. You turn to look at him. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere. Bathroom.”

His eyes flick down to your body, and you feel suddenly self-conscious. Your hands come up to cover your chest, but he catches them before they make it.

"Don't."

He holds your hands between you, and looks at you with a warm smile. You lean down to kiss him. It's a bit thrilling, even after, for this to be normal. That he'll kiss you back now with no hesitation. You're not used to the casual contact, and it's going to take a long time to get accustomed to it.

You kiss him again. Practice makes perfect.

A sigh from behind Namjoon distracts you, and you both turn toward the sound. Jungkook looks at the pair of you with a soft wistfulness in his eyes, a goofy smile spreading over his features. You've seen this before. If he stays on his back much longer, he'll fall asleep.

“Come on, let's clean up." You reach over to tug him up. "Shower's massive in this bathroom."

A/N 2: eeeek we're almost at the end!! i'd love to hear what you think!!

©sowoozoo-7 2024

Please do not copy or repost. I do not crosspost anywhere else.

[redrandomposts]

another au idea floating in my head

AU where ivan time travels back to pre-meteor shower after his death. he now definitely knows that till would never pick him over mizi so with all the knowledge he gained from the past life, he manages to pull a miracle and get all four of them out of anakt garden safely. mizi was definitely hard to convince so ivan had to, um, kindly shatter her innocent worldview and now both sua and till hate him for making mizi sad lmao but that's fine, they're getting out of there. what's two more people ending up hating him, honestly ?

and by some other miracle, the children were found by human rebels. they're taken in, clothed, fed, and are now essentially free from the aliens.

ivan sees this as his job being done and starts to slowly drift away from the other three. now that theyre free and not being prepped like lambs for slaughter, he doesn't have anything to offer them anymore. what other use could they have for him, really ? so he just floats around the human base, distracting himself by making himself as useful as possible to the other humans

(the other humans are just incredibly worried about this blank-eyed kid who looks like he wants to be hugged so fucking bad but also like he would crumble into dust the moment someone touched him, but ivan's a stubborn bastard who wont listen to anybody so they give him easy tasks in order to keep an eye on him)

the adults take notice of the now strained dynamics between ivan, sua, and till and how mizi is caught in the middle and try to help the kids sort through their feelings.

idk maybe sua wont give a fuck since all she cares abt is mizi but mizi would definitely want to repair the broken bridges bc these are her friends :( and ivan has definitely risked a lot to bring them to safety, hasnt he ? it's unfair how sua and till were being mean to him all because he made mizi cry.

but then there's till. would he try to make amends for mizi's sake ? or would he look even further away from ivan out of guilt ? who knows.

(and imagine the other three start to get memories of their past life through flashbacks and dreams later on lmao)

— 🌦️

me: ooh! a concept! what would u like me to do with this?

🌦️: ideas!!

me: here's your half-a-fanfiction that will make you shed tears!

i have no idea how it happened, by the way. it just did.

===

the escape is rocky at best—ivan was just barely able to get till up in time last time. the only thing keeping this from falling apart is probably of his past experience and fantasies that never came to fruition.

before till or sua, he'd get mizi first, except she has the most security around her; her owner treated her as a precious princess, after all. he's forced to get till then sua (who posed quite a problem, too), and have them both witness his struggle in getting mizi to come along. sua would be a massive help in persuasion, maybe even till, but ivan had uet to disable the chips in those two that set off alarms whenever a certain place was breached. it'd be more efficient if all three of them were gathered while he turned those off.

it's no surprise the animosity that comes from both of them as he rips off the bandage that had been blinding mizi, losing her oh-so-precious smile in favor of tears. sua whisper yelled at him, beating him down for daring to make mizi cry and why were they doing this anyway? till joined in, too, and ivan was barely able to divert the guard's attention.

they do manage to leave successfully, though. it's nothing short of a miracle—sua and till's glares digging into his back, mizi's muffled sobs barely getting by security... it takes a few hours longer than the last life, too.

that's a shame. ivan would have liked to see the meteor shower again.

running across the fields, it's ivan who sees them first. he has to he diligent; he's the leader, the one in front, he's the oldest, and the other two are focused on mizi and her tears.

human rebels. ivan knew they existed, but he's never seen them in his past life. they are driving in motorcycles down the dusty road. he calls out to them, eyes wide and hopefully projecting an innocence he's lost before he went to anakt garden.

would this have been an opportunity he and till would have had in that life?

===

before, ivan would have assumed that till and sua would ease up on their fervent hate of him. tears weren't especially special, considering the life they had led—that ivan had led. while no one had cried for him, he knew that they cried for others, and an awful lot at that too.

a month later, as sua purposefully took the last sweet treat on the tray, glaring at him, all he could think was hypocrite. sua had made mizi cry the hardest, and would have had he not pulled them out so soon.

and when till screamed and beat him down whenever ivan tried to get near him or dares to talk to him, sparing no mercy as he expended his entire vocabulary on ivan, ivan... wished he could say he didn't care too much.

ivan looks at the adults and wonders how they thought of the messy situation. witnessing how the two children bullied the one they assumed was the leader, in defense of someone who didn't really need nor want it. watching how they guarded one from another, effectively isolating him. noticing how they took the happiness the rebels had tried so hard to make and provide from him.

ivan doesn't know, nor does he want to know, but everytime he sees a sweet pastry on his bed—well, it's impossible not to make a conjecture.

the adults have tried to meddle. in fact, mizi—their sun, their light of their life, their god—had tried to meddle. it's fruitless, though; till nor sua will let ivan get a word in, even if the adults are there, and they're thoroughly convinced ivan had managed to manipulate mizi into intervening.

ivan stopped in front of a cracked open door when he heard shouting. he and the others had split rooms, leaving him alone in the smaller one. "guys, ivan isn't that bad! he got all of us out, that day, he must've been stressed too!"

"he couldn't have done it nicer?" sua grumbled.

"he doesn't know how to be nice," till countered, equally upset. "ivan's no good news, mizi. it's better if you stay away. he might—he might steal your things and beat you up."

"glad we can agree on one thing."

"that's ridiculous! you're ridiculous! it's just a bit of tears, it doesn't mean a lot, guys!"

"you never cried before," sua pointed out, eyes narrowed. "stop defending him, mizi. ivan doesn't deserve it."

===

ivan stands alone in the field, looking at the night sky and trying to conjure the lyrics he had written so long ago. it's been a few years since the escape, and on the anniversary each year he'd go to see if there's a meteor shower and sing the songs that marked death.

at the age of ten, they'd manage to escape anakt garden; all four of them. at fifteen, ivan finds that he's forgotten both songs he'd sung on stage for aliens to listen and for till to hear. it's not that big a problem, except he can't recall what sua would look like on the day of her death, either, nor what dress mizi wore when she disappeared, nor how till looked when he sang that song for mizi.

maybe it'd be easier to imagine if they let him near then in this life. instead, in the five years he's been here, it's mostly ivan doing odd jobs alone around the base when he can. he lessens the work on till and sua and mizi by taking it upon himself to do it first. the rest of them don't say anything about it anymore.

not too far away, in his own room, till shoots out of bed, forehead dripping sweat. his eyes are wide, brain working overtime, yet he can only catch fleeting parts of his nightmare—a missing poster.

===

ivan is twenty, ten years since their escape, and nearly every memory from his first life erased. he desperately grasps onto a meteor shower, one that he missed in this life, but he's not an artist who can immortalize the scene. he wishes he could, he does, and as he stands outside, his last memory leaves him.

ivan's long stopped trying to grasp at the melody of black sorrow or the lyrics of cure, so he's silent as he looks up.

ivan doesn't go back to the base. he can't stand another round of shots in the heart, not when he lost his final memory. he doesn't know where he will go, but it's not here.

on earth, he'd officially be an adult. today, he feels as though he's a little child who lost his parents forever.

=====

OH MY GOD I MIGHT CRY WHAT THE HELL

what devil possessed me

FUCK IM CRYING

sua starts the whole "ivan doesn't deserve it" and till follows her lead. crowd mentality, ig, till has some doubts but mizi holds a higher place in his heart.

the adults don't get too close, because ivan doesn't let them, but they do remind him that he has a place in the base. candies, pastries, clothes, and toys are left in his room by them when they notice he's particularly feeling down. it's concerning how much this occurs.

ivan starts to lose his memories because he largest wish—give till freedom—has been completed. meanwhile, a deeper and more silent wish to be loved causes the other three to regain their memories. unfortunately, ivan runs away before that one comes true.

ivan says he feels like a child when he loses that last memory — that's because he never grew up after going back in time. his maturity came from the memories, and without them he is a lost child.

on the last night, till's last memory he gained is actually r6, when ivan dies for him. he gets up immediately to find him, except he's nowhere to be found.

perhaps in a sequel till goes to find ivan and they make up—or, perhaps in a sequel ivan is found dead or captured.

scrapped scene:

"ivan, you're the reason they managed to escape, right?"

"yes..."

"what would you change? if you had to escape again?"

"i'd want to see the meteor shower. we missed it because it took too long to get out of the garden."

"i see. how'd you know about the meteor shower?"

"...hyuna told me."

[pocket-jack]

Hey, guys! I decided to torture myself before sleep beacause... Why not? So, here's KidKiller's rough sheets with some headcanons I have for the guys (probably with a lot off mistakes cus my browser refuses to fix them for me)

Kid time, baby

I draw him differently now. I know his face looks more... diamond shaped in anime, but I can't get rid of his square coded energy, so... Heart-shaped it is!

When he recieved his eye scar he didn't lose the ability to see, but now it get's dry really fast and if he won't do something about it it'll gonna ache.

He had multiple piercings on his ear, but his powers just kept pulling them and one day almost ripped his ear of, so he (with a manly tears) decided to take them off.

I headcanon him wearing a corset, because he's a little chubby and he can't get rid of this extra fat (not with his appetites). Also everytime when he takes it off, not only he's forced to look at his hanging stomach, but he's also has to fight off Killer. Killer's only dream was for Kid to be well fed and happy.

Nor his, nor Killer's sexuality is defined by them, but actually based out of other's observations. Kid is pansexual because he's kinda gender blind. For him it's confusing that you're weak just because you have tits and extra hole between your legs. He's also demiromantic. Both of those preference he acquired during Kutsukku (where you couldn't trust anyone, even your lover. And where the gender norms were the least of your concerns)

He also have undiagnosed ADHD which mostly give him extra impulsivity and also now the metal can speak (thank ye, neurodivergency!). Sometimes it's stresses him the hell off, especially during Kutsukku. He could not sleep because of all of this buzzing he kept hearing from EVERYWHERE. Now he can control it, but sometimes it returnd and he has to suffer.

Metal also responds to his hidden emotions. It may float when he thinks, reflects or remembering something. It may rumble when he's angry, concerned, scared. Or it may form something if he's happy, in love or something like that.

He's hard rock kinda guy, we all know this, but I headcanon him as a music lover in general (so whatever makes his brain go bzzt, mostly rock). I find Thrown a couple of month ago and it's sounds like something Kid would like (probably even kin, esp Backfire). MSI is a basic thing for him to have (every punk need at least one song in their playlist). I guess not every person will understand it, but Пшлнхй is such a Kid coded song (Every Russian proverb, but one part is just sending you to fuck yourself is something that Kid would do irl. The chorus is just... mmm)

Killer, my beloved!!!!

I love headcanoning him as androgenous. He has a feminine features: oval shaped face, eyes with big eyelashes, even his lips is a little softer than the average male lips. That is the main reason why he hid his face, because everyone would bully him fot it when he was young. Killer was confused with a girl a lot during his time on Kutsukku.

During timeskip he strained a lot of muscles just to get stronger. He was neglecting himself most of the time, because he had a mission: to become stronger so he'll never fail to protect Kid ever again. They also been really distant during their training. Only when Killer hurted his arm they bounded again. Kid was surprisingly a good mentor for his healing. Probably because their trauma was almost the same

When he's wearing a mask he usually get's his hair out of the way so it wouldn't mess with his vision

Pre timeskip he wanted to work on his style, feeling obliged to do so, cus his crew was dressing up in colorful styles. He choose to fit into more West Bluish kinda style (cowboy boots and pants). But then anxiety hitted him and suddenly he felt too vissible and everyone was looking at him and... Let's just say it wasn't a pleasant expirience for him. He just wanted to show that he was a part of the crew too, but now he feels himself too overreacting and dramatic and stuff. It took a lot of time for everyone to convince him that it wasn't about the look, but more about the comfort. With their support Killer started wearing something he likes more, and it felt fantastic. He actually started to like himself in the mirror a bit more after timeskip and then Wano happened

Killer is asexual beacuse of the amount of trauma he suffered during his childhood. I hc him having a low libido too. He's still feels romantic attraction (only for Kid), and if he asks, Killer will have sex with him without hesitation. But it's only for Kid, OR for his sake

It is so logical for him to have OCD. Just him casualy living and then the dread that if he won't do something usefull his crew will see how fucking usless and worthless he actually is and live him behind the same his parents did just suddenly hits him. Oh hey! Anxiety! Abandonment issues! This man will explode, please, give him a hug.

It got worse after Wano. He's doing bad things with his face and no one knows. Even Kid. (I love making them suffer for the sake of Hurt\Comfort)

I am 100% sure Killer is a Queen guy. It just gives me Killer vibes... The same with Elton John. And also... To fit in his pre timeskip cowboy vibes into the oven,,, He's actually like country rock alongside with glam rock. Barns Courtney is his favorate

So... How do you like my silly little headcanons? Maybe I post something about Heat and Wire too. Welp, I'm fainting out of exaustion, bye!