#I was gonna do this with dicks instead but it would have taken too long

[hees-mine]

My neighbor - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cum eating, cursing, dirty talk, alcohol, oral, age gap and the gap is gapping so if that makes you uncomfortable please do not read.

WC: 4,247k

-

You sighed for the thousand time while you sat on the couch watching whatever boring show that was on the tv.

You much rather be out having fun, partying, and enjoying yourself, maybe even getting fucked.

But no.

Instead, you’ve sat two cushions away from your neighbor while he “kept an eye on you.”

It was ridiculous you were old enough not to need someone checking in on you, but your parents insisted that it’d make them comfortable knowing a trusted adult was watching over you while they went on a romantic getaway.

You looked over at him with a glare while he laughed at something on the screen that you weren’t paying attention to. You eyed him from head to toe, and there was a look of disgust on your face. If it wasn’t for him, you could be out having the time of your life, but you calmed yourself down, reminding yourself it wasn’t heeseung’s fault. After all, he was a good friend of your parents. After moving into the lot next to yours a few years ago, he hit it off with your parents right away and soon became a staple in your household, coming over on weekends for dinner and family game night.

He was nice, and you enjoyed his company, don’t get it wrong, but right now, you didn’t, especially when you tried to sneak up to your room with hopes that he wouldn’t notice. Maybe you could escape out your window and enjoy your night after all, but alas. “Ah ah ah, sit down, missy.”

You sighed again, plopping down on the couch after he caught you.

A smile tugged at heeseung’s lips. He’s a bit too old to be fooled by your tricks. He’d been in your shoes before, so there was no way anything you did would get by him tonight.

“Come on, don’t be like that. It’s only one week,” he says as if that wasn’t like a thousand days to a teenager. “Are you hungry? I’m not much of a cook, but I could make some tomato soup, or we could order out whatever sounds good to you.”

You appreciate his offer, you really do, and you should happily accept, seeing how he’s taking time out of his week to make sure you’re safe fed and taken care of, but that itch of defiance and frustration overpower you, and you find yourself declining.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” You slouch down in your seat, folding your arms over your chest and getting a pouty look on your face.

Such a crybaby, heeseung thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud, knowing you’d hate it if he called you that.

“Well, I’m starving, so I’m gonna order a pizza,” he announced and pulled out his phone, ordering everything he liked.

It only takes twenty minutes for it to arrive again. You attempted to run off, but sadly, the transaction between heeseung and the pizza delivery guy was too short for you to make your great escape.

You don’t know how long it’s been now, but long enough to get you even more agitated because you could be at the party you were invited to. It’s been started for an hour or more, but instead, here you are, stuck with your neighbor while he sits across from you, dining on his pizza like it’s a delicacy.

“Can I please go out, heeseung? I promise I won’t tell if you let me,” You give in, pleading with him to let you go out.

“No can do it. It’s my duty to make sure you stay here. Besides, your parents trust me, and I wouldn’t want to break it,” he says strictly.

You throw your head back exaggeratedly, and he can’t help but laugh, making your head snap back to look at him with eyes that could kill.

“What’s so great out there anyway?” he asks, taking a sip from his pop.

“Music friends drinks,” you list out all the things you’re missing out on. “Dick,” you mutter, but he hears you anyway, nearly spitting out his drink.

“You drink?!” He asks wide-eyed because you’re underage, and that’s why he’s so shocked.

“Duh, get with the times, old man.” You roll your eyes at him.

“I’ll have you know I’m only thirty-eight,” he replied, unamused by you.

“Yeah, old.”

“I’m gonna ignore that comment since you’re an emotional teenager figuring yourself out.” This time, you look at him unamused by what he said. “What? Fair play.” he shrugged, both of you, knowing there was no real harm meant by your exchange. “Anyway, I’m still not understanding your problem because everything you want is right here,” he says nonchalantly.

You looked at him weirdly, wondering what he meant by that.

Noticing your confusion, he elaborated.

“There’s booze in the cabinet. I can play some music. We’re friends, I think? And well,” he sets his food aside, spreading his legs on the sofa and facing you. “I have a dick,” he says casually.

He couldn’t help the slight smile that graced his features by your shocked reaction. He didn’t know why you were so surprised. He supposed his idea was a bit outlandish, but it kills two birds with one stone. He’ll know for a fact. You’re safe, and you can have your little party at home with him.

“Heeseung, stop joking.” Laughing nervously, your eyes shifted away from him, unable to comprehend what he said. You understood it perfectly fine, but you couldn’t quite grasp that he was actually being serious.

“I’m not. besides, this solves our problem. I know that you’re safe with me, and you can get everything you want.”

Okay, as good as that sounded, you have to decline. That would be stepping over boundaries you could never uncross.

Besides, it's heeseung you couldn’t. He was too near and dear to your parents. You couldn’t risk it and muddy up their relationship by fucking your neighbor. You don’t know how they’d feel if they ever found out something like that. “Heeseung, we shouldn’t my parents trust you.”

“Oh, so now you understand my point of view,” he laughs. “But it’s alright.” he places his hand on your thigh, scooting closer to you. “I’m sure you can keep a secret, isn’t that right, little alcoholic?” he teases you about your drinking habits, giving your thigh a light pinch.

“Stop it,” you giggled, pushing at his shoulder playfully.

“It’s up to you, Angel.” You nearly lose it at the nickname, his voice going straight to your core.

Since when were you attracted to your neighbor?

“What if I say yes?” You ask, your hand placed on his chest and trailing down to his stomach.

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.” he leans in his hot breath, fanning your face. “So what’s it gonna be?”

“Yes,” you whisper, lips brushing across his from the proximity.

His soft lips press against yours, and his eyes flutter shut. “I’ll be right back,” he parts from you to go to the kitchen, grabbing the alcohol from the cabinet and two shot glasses before turning off the kitchen lights and coming back to you.

“Oh?” you say with a raised brow, noting the liquor he chose.

“Thought you might like it,” he said, sitting back on the couch.

“It’s my favorite.” he smiles at that, grabbing the remote to put on his R&B playlist. After setting the remote down, he grabs the bottle, pouring you both a shot. “To secrets.” he holds his glass up to yours, clanking it softly.

“To secrets,” you smirk at him, both of you downing the shot.

The alcohol burns through your system, already heating your body up with a very familiar desire.

His eyes drop to your lips, zeroing in on the sheen from the alcohol that covers them, making them look so much more enticing than they already do.

He doesn’t hold himself back from leaning into you and pressing his lips against yours. He pulled back a little, resting his forehead against yours with a breathless chuckle before he reattached his lips to yours.

You don’t shy away from cupping his face, tilting your head to the side to feel more of him.

He placed his hand on your right thigh, rubbing sensually to the music that plays in the background.

He’s the first to open his mouth, giving you full access to him. Immediately, your tongue finds his as you lick your way into his mouth, and you could have never imagined your neighbor was such a good kisser.

He slides his hand upward, slipping it underneath your shut to cup your covered breast, and you moan softly into his mouth. He hums at the softness, his other hand doing the same.

Both his hands work to unclasp your bra, the material sliding down your waist, leaving you with nothing to separate the feeling of his warm hands kneading your tender breasts.

You cry out as he toys with your hardened nipples. Unable to keep the kiss in rhythm, he opts to leave wet mout,h kisses along your jaw as your hands tangle in his hair. You arch into his touch, heat pooling in your core.

He teases the tip of your earlobe with his tongue, and from then on, the quiet whimpers that leave your lips are endless.

His warm wet tongue traces along your jawline before he nibbles your ear lobe, and you can’t say your pussy didn’t clench from the feeling. “More heeseung, please.”

Releasing your earlobe from his mouth, he leaned back to take in your flushed state.

Wordlessly, he tugs on the hem of your shirt, and you lift it over your head, tossing it on the floor.

He smirks at the sight of your bare chest, feeling his dick grow harder as he eyes each of your perked nipples. Using the couch to brace himself, he hovers over you, tongue flicking on your left nipple as your hands desperately work on his button-up one button at a time till they’re fully undone.

“Heeseung,” you moan, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and revealing his broad chest.

Your hands have a mind of their own as you caress his body up and down. He shivers from your touch, nipples growing hard as your fingers graze them.

One hand slides up his back and into his hair, the other going lower to press down on the bulge in his pants. “God,” he grunts as you stimulate his sensitive cock under his pants.

He lazily licks up your chest kissing and sucking anywhere he can reach. He takes his shirt off the rest of the way to caress your body, his large hands gripping and pulling you closer by the waist.

Inpatient, you tug on his pants, letting him know you want them off, and he’s quick to give you what you want. Standing up, he sheds his pants off, throwing them to the other side of the living room.

Joining him, you stand as well, and before you can, he’s already yanking your pajamas down, and you giggle at his eagerness.

He laughs softly and raises a brow, looking at your panties that cling to your crotch with arousal, and it’s obvious what he wants. “What?” You say, pretending to be oblivious.

He steps closer, fingers dipping into your waistband, and he’s happy to clear up any confusion on your end. “Let me eat that pussy, baby” he lets the waistband snap and hit your skin, making you let out a soft moan.

He presses himself against you, his cock nudged right against your pussy, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck, pushing your core against him. “Please,” you whimper as you feel him intentionally rubbing his bulge on you.

He easily picks you up, placing you down on the edge of the couch and kneeling in front of it, spreading your legs open. “Let’s take these off” he grabs your panties, pulling them off your trembling legs and revealing your soaked cunt.

Looking up at you, he smirks at the sight of your cunt. It’s literally dripping. “You look so fucking good,” he grunts, eyes nearly rolling back in his head. Your little cunt is all wet and messy all because of him.

He bends down, inhaling your scent, eyes falling shut as his cock twitches beneath his underwear. “Smells so good,” he whispers, his breath blowing across your pussy lips, watching as you clench around nothing.

He pressed his lips to your clit, making you jolt from the first contact, and he smiled already from how reactive you were to his touch. Opening his mouth, he flattened his tongue, licking upwards between your folds, the tip of his tongue right on your hole where your juices flow out of.

“Tastes good, too” his brows knit in concentration as he makes out with your pussy sucking, kissing, and licking all the parts that had you roughly gripping his hair and whimpering his name.

“Feels so good, heeseung fuck” you cry out, watching as his skilled tongue pleasures your pussy. The sight was almost too much for your racing heart to handle.

He caressed and massaged your thighs, his right hand sneaking up to play with your hole, circling his thumb around it, teasing your engorged folds that beg for releases.

“Please put your finger in me.” Looking up at you, he shoves his thumb inside your hole, feeling you clench immediately.

“Yes fuck” you whimper as his tongue circles your clit, and he fucks your hole with his thumb.

He hums in satisfaction, sending little vibrations on your clit, and you made the huge mistake of locking eyes with him. The moment you did, you came crashing down embarrassingly quick, your moans mixing with the lewd wet sounds of him eating your pussy.

Your legs quiver, thighs clamping around his head as he works you through it, moaning into your pussy cause of the beautiful taste you left on his tongue.

You breathe out shakily, your hands slowly combing through his hair as your cunt throbs uncontrollably, sucking on his thumb, and he can’t wait to feel the same on his dick.

He cleans everything that your hole pushes out with his tongue lapping and savoring every last bit of it. “Love the way you taste,” he moans, not leaving any inch of your pussy untouched by his tongue. He made sure to collect every last drop of your release. “Could eat you all day.”

A shiver runs down his spine as the taste of you lingers on his tongue, and he might just be obsessed with you after that.

Kissing your inner thighs, his thumbs circle your flesh, your fingers tickling his scalp making his dick twitch.

Reluctantly parting from you, he stands up, and the unmistakable bulge in his boxers catches your eyes. You involuntarily lick your lips just at the thought of his cock.

He smirks, reaching for your hands and placing them on the waistband of his underwear, waiting for you to make the next move. With a swiftness, you pull down his underwear freeing his hard dick.

He bites his bottom lip softly as your right hand wraps around his girth, the other teasing at his waistline with your fingertips.

You hear him groan quietly as you twist your wrist, massaging his cock in a circular motion.

He outstretched his arm, his left hand teasing your nipple, tugging on it while you worked his length. The moment a bead of precum leaked from his tip, you immediately gathered it on your fingertip, tapping the head of his cock lightly.

You brought your finger to your mouth, sucking his precum off, eyes meeting his as you swirled your tongue around the tip.

His cock twitched at the action, and you placed your hands on his waist, pulling him forward until he had no choice but to join you on the couch, his knees resting beside your legs as he hovered over you.

The position confuses him at first, but the moment you sunk lower on the couch, leveling your face with his crotch, he knew he was in for it.

He looked down just in time to watch you open your mouth to lick his tip, his body shuddering as he let out a short breath. “Hmm”

Swirling your tongue around his shaft, you opened up wide, hands going to the backs of his thighs, taking his length into your mouth.

You nudged him closer, giving him a hint, and he slowly began to move his hips, thrusting forward carefully into your mouth. “Shit,” he hisses, dragging his length out, then pushing back into the wet warmness of your mouth.

-

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[daniwib]

[tootiecakes234]

Katsuki dating obliviously hot reader:

Characters aged up

Kinda smutty

Katsuki doesn’t even really see people in a hot or non hot way but then…. in walks you. The person that has him a blubbering, babbling mess. He thinks it’s insane, how fucking amazing you look all the time and it’s hard to control himself around you.

You’re at a party and you were dancing on him. In the middle of you pretty much dry humping him, Mina pulls you away from him and toward her. The thing is before he can hide it, she looks down at his groin and BAM

“Dude I can see your hard on through your pants.” And all your other friends turn around and start trying to see.

The blonde’s face now has a deep blush but he speak in an even tone. “Yea well yall would be too if someone as hot as Y/N was dancing on you. Too bad you losers get no play.”

He then rips you back outta Mina’s arms and spins you around so your back is to his front yet again. He has his dick placed snuggly against your clothes between your cheeks.

You guys are going out on a date and you’re bloated asf and nothing looks right. You’ve changed outfits like 4 times now and Kats in starvin.

He comes barging in the room and your in long sleeve shirt with a thigh length skirt and some cute shoes. You’re in the mirror adjusting and leaning towards a hell no when you hear him whisper under his breath, “damn”

“Do I look bad? I feel gross. Maybe we can get takeout and just stay here.”

“Gross? You gotta be fucking kiddin me. We are going to go out and I’m gonna be trying my damndest not to beat the shit out of the sea of guys that are gonna be eye fucking you and you’re calling yourself gross. Grab your damn purse and let’s go y/n.”

Well then. Guess you cant argue with that.

You’re at the gym together and you were both doing your own things. You’re on the treadmill when some guy comes up on the one next to you and starts talking.

It seems harmless enough so you engage him for a while until you get a text alert on your phone. When you check Kit Kat is on the screen so you open the message.

Kit Kat: come here.

That’s random so you look up to find where he is in the gym and discover hes near the weights. When you lock eyes with him, you see murder in his eyes.

Aww fuck. He’s pissed. You know your man is territorial, but damn.

You excuse yourself from the conversation you were only half heartedly invested in and walk over to him.

“Look it wasn’t-“ but your words are cut off from his lips pressing against yours and you feel his hand graze over your ass.

You’re glad the gym is half empty cuz damn.

“That idiots been looking at my ass in these tights since you walked in. I’m gonna have to put a fucking taken sticker on your forehead.”, he growled low next to your ear.

“Instead of all that, you can just put a ring on my finger.” You say smugly.

He chuckles at you, “yea that’s probably a better option.”

Katsuki Masterlist

@justbepeace

[dollishmehrayan]

# “YOUR LIKE A PIECE OF ART!” ── .✦ ( batboys with a s/o who has a lot of tattoos. )

a/n: this was a request by anon actually (here) anyways omg a lot of you guys are sending nationality requests like Irish!reader, Moroccan!reader, Canadian!reader and etc omgg anyways yesterday I took a small break and now I’m back!!! So yeahh tags: (batboys x a s/o who has a lot of tattoos)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Absolutely adores your tattoos. He finds them mesmerizing and often asks about the stories behind them.

"Wait, this one—what does it mean? And this one? You gotta explain it all to me!" He’s so genuinely interested it’s adorable.

Loves tracing his fingers over them absentmindedly. It’s his favorite way to relax, especially after a long patrol.

If you’re open to it, he’d love to get matching tattoos with you. Something small and meaningful, like a star or an acrobat silhouette.

He’s always hyping you up. “God, you look so cool! How did I even land you?”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Finds your tattoos ridiculously attractive. You’re like a walking piece of art, and he can’t stop staring.

“Another one? Damn, I’m gonna run out of compliments if you keep adding masterpieces to your body.”

Appreciates the rebellious vibe that tattoos give, but loves that yours are deeply personal too.

If you designed any of them yourself, he’s in awe. “Wait—you drew this? Babe, you’re a genius.”

He won’t admit it, but he’s been low-key considering getting a tattoo himself—something to match or complement yours.

Loves running his hand over them, especially while you're cuddling. He’d act cool about it, but he’s secretly obsessed.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

At first, he might be a little shy about it—he’s not used to tattoos or the culture surrounding them.

"So… do they hurt? Like, a lot? Or just a bit?" He’s curious but hesitant to admit he’s interested.

After you explain the meanings and the artistry behind them, he gains a deep respect for your tattoos.

He’d geek out over the symbolism if any of them are literary or historical references.

Secretly thinks you’re the coolest person ever. Your tattoos add a boldness and confidence that he’s drawn to.

If you ever wanted to get another one, Tim would offer to help you research the best tattoo artists.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

He’s intrigued but tries to act indifferent. “Tattoos are superficial… but I suppose these are aesthetically pleasing.”

Secretly, he’s fascinated. He’ll examine your tattoos closely and ask about their meanings when he thinks you’re not paying too much attention.

If any of your tattoos are animals or nature-related, he’s deeply impressed. “A bunny? You’ve chosen well.”

Will jokingly criticize any tattoo he doesn’t like, but you know he’s not serious. He secretly admires all of them.

If you tell him you’re getting another one, he might suggest an animal that resonates with your personality. "Perhaps a panther would suit you."

Low-key, he’d be jealous if anyone else commented on how cool your tattoos are. He doesn’t like sharing your attention.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

At first, he’d be a bit taken aback—it’s not something he’s used to, and he’s very traditional.

But once he understands that your tattoos have personal meaning, he respects your choices completely.

“You’re a work of art. Literally and figuratively.” He means it sincerely, even if it’s cheesy.

He might not be entirely comfortable showing off your tattoos in formal settings (Wayne galas and such), but he would never ask you to hide them. Instead, he would encourage you to flaunt them confidently.

Secretly, he’s fascinated by the process and would love to watch you get a tattoo one day, just to understand it better.

If anyone makes a rude comment about your tattoos, Bruce would shut them down instantly with his trademark icy glare.

RANDOM CONVOS WITH THEM THAT WOULD HAPPEN ── .✦

with dick

Dick: “So, if I get your name tattooed, does that mean I own your heart forever?”

You: “Only if it’s spelled right.”

With jason

Jason: “If you ever get a tattoo of my name, make it small. I don’t want to be embarrassed when you dump me.”

You: “you think I’ll dump you randomly?”

jason: “who wouldn’t, I’m a high maintenance guy.”

With tim

Tim: He accidentally zones out during a conversation because he’s staring at a detailed tattoo and trying to figure out the design.

With damian

Damian: “Tt, if I were to get a tattoo, it would be far more impressive than yours.” You: “Damian, I literally have a dragon sleeve.”

With bruce

Bruce: “Do all of these mean something? Or did you just think they looked… fashionable?”

You: “Some are meaningful, but yeah, Bruce. Some just look cool

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + fifteen

authors note: next chapter will be a lot heavier, because we see shit play out. italicized dialogue indicates that spanish is being spoken.

ya'll better not come for me after this one either, okay! 😭

just know the plot is plotting, ya'll

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, angst, roman being a dick to anyone other than his wife, and violence

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 10k

The newly opened doors of intimacy have awakened a previously dormant part of Solana.

Something she previously thought impossible to access, permanently damaged as a result of her trauma.

But, she was wrong. 

So, so wrong.

Roman is everything she never allowed herself to dream about having, let alone actually hoped to have in real life.

Caring, considerate, gentle, patient.

Their first time together is something she’ll never forget and always cherish. But, it’s the times afterwards, sporadic over the past two days since the consummation, that have almost meant something more.

A testament to her comfort and trust in him.

Of her love for him.

Sitting in bed, in between his legs, leaning into his strong body with nothing but the thin 600 thread count sheets covering them, Solana sketches, no particular drawing in mind, just whatever is felt in that moment. And what’s felt is the image and scenery of the water, of the beauty that is Isla Mujeres. Her mom was right. There’s nothing like it.

“I think—I think I want to come back here sooner rather than later.” Solana finds herself partially wondering aloud but also wanting to pick her husband’s brain. “I know you probably won’t be able to come, and that’s okay. Maybe…maybe Bayley can come with me?” It’s both a suggestion and a question. 

Roman makes a sound against her, his lips lingering along her temple, long fingers moving gently against the side of her breast under the sheets. “Whatever you want, I’ll make happen. Bayley will go with you.”

Solana chews on her bottom lip, shading a palm tree. “But, what if she has plans?”

“She will. Plans to go with you.”

A small smile falls on her face. “How do you know she’ll just agree with you?” Solana has an idea of what he’s going to say, and she’s correct. 

“People do what I tell them to do, and if they don’t, they face the consequences. And no one wants that, so they just do it.” 

She doesn’t doubt that one bit. Because no matter how sweet and caring he is to her, that’s where it stops. With her.

Because to anyone and everyone else, he’s Roman Reigns, ruthless, brutal leader of the Bloodline.

And she’s accepted that. Accepted that he has to juggle two different hats.

She’s just happy she gets the best of him.

“I Facetime’d Naomi today and got to see Dulce.” As much fun as she’s having, as healing as this trip has been for her, she misses her sweet puppy deeply. “Guess who’s taken to her?”

Roman chuckles, looking back with a bit of shock. “Jimmy?”

Solana nods, grinning as she remembers overhearing Jimmy ask about where ‘fluff fluff’ is. “Naomi says he’s even got her sleeping in the bed with them.”

“Well, she damn sure ain’t doing that with us.” His voice takes on an authoritative tone. Not that she’s in disagreement. Dulce is too small for that. Roman would literally smother her. “Our bed is occupied.” He ghosts his lips over the shell of her earlobe. “Gonna be real busy when we get back home….”

Solana tries instead to focus on the drawing at hand versus that familiar feeling pooling in her stomach. 

Continuing with the topic in the hopes of settling that feeling, she shares, “I want to do something nice for Naomi and Bayley when we get back. They’ve—they’ve been so nice to me.”

It’s something she’s been thinking about ever since the beautiful birthday messages she’s received. Having never really had many friends, to be able to land such solid, loyal people like them is something she doesn’t take lightly. She doesn’t know quite yet how she wants to show her appreciation, but she’s determined to come up with something.

An idea crossing her mind, Solana suggests, “maybe they both can come stay here with me for a week?”

His mouth moves back to the side of her face. “Mmmhmm.”

“Like…..like a girls trip.” Solana has never experienced one of those and just the thought of having one with the two of them has pre-excitement already forming.

Roman sighs, clearly distracted by his lips exploring her face. “Whatever you want, baby.”

Turning her head to the side to look up at him, small smile on her face, Solana asks, “are you listening to me?”

Roman hums against her skin. “I’m always listening to you, Solana.” Her eyes flutter as his fingers shift and move under the generous swell of her breast. “Probably the only person that’s the case for…..” His mouth moves to her cheek. “But, it’s hard to focus with you naked like this…..”

The pencil in her hand naturally drops against the sketchbook, her head lolling backwards, lips pressing together. “Roman….” 

This is such a new experience. She’s never desired to be touched or craved such intimacy until Roman. Even with her trauma, there’s a pull that seems to have been unleashed with the consummation of her marriage.

An urge that has her thighs pressing together, something Roman most definitely takes note of. Eyes darkening with lust and something else, he asks, voice almost hoarse, “are you sore?”

She is, but not nearly as sore as she was after their first time. And certainly not to the point where she wants to decline.

“No,” is the answer she settles on, Roman���s lips on hers in a matter of seconds. She shifts her body so she’s straddling him, the feeling of him hard and warm between her legs making her moan in his mouth. Roman easily switches positions so she’s on her back, him hovering over her. 

He breaks the kiss, asking once more, “you sure?”

Solana licks her lips, forever thankful for his constant efforts to receive her consent. “Yes.”

His eyes burn with need. “Could be inside you like this all day….” He brings his hand to the back of her thigh, lifting her leg and opening her up more as he gradually descends into her slick warmth. “And definitely all night….”

Solana would be lying if she said she didn’t feel somewhat of the same way.

________

She wakes up with a growing familiar ache between her legs, soft sheets against her nude body, and her husband pressed against her, his arm draped over her, holding her close to him.

But, he’s not sleeping. She can feel his mouth hovering over her shoulder. Her smile grows a bit as she thinks about their last lovemaking session, so passionate and fulfilling. Another round of him giving her pleasure she didn’t think possible.

However, it’s when she glances at the clock and sees the time, her eyes widen a bit from the shock. “Roman, it’s almost 2 o’clock….”

He’s never been more uninterested. “And?” Lips traveling the length of her arm, he murmurs against her smooth skin. “You’d never leave this bed if it was up to me….”

His statement, half joking, half serious, makes her smile, but it also helps her realize she has to be a bit more outspoken about what she wants.

Holding the sheet against her chest, she rolls onto her back, informing, “I want to go out to the marketplace today.”

He scowls. “Around people?” 

“Yes, people.” She giggles, moving her hand to his face, beard tickling her palm. “We only have two more days here. I want to bring back gifts for Naomi, Bayley, and your cousins”

It’s the mention of the twins that makes him roll his eyes as he falls back into the mattress. “You always trying to take care of the homeless.”

Solana giggles, hovering over him, hand on his chest. “That’s so mean, Roman. They’re not homeless.”

“Then why the hell are they always at our house?”

She shakes her head, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “I’m gonna go get ready.” 

He doesn’t try to stop her, doesn’t prevent her from leaving the bed and doing just that.

And in less than two hours, both showered, fed, and dressed, they’re out of the house and on their way to the market.

Adolfo López Mateos is the municipal market and offers a trove of items for Solana to pick from. Countless authentic options for her to bring back home as gifts but also as souvenirs for herself, reminders of this wonderful place that will forever hold such beautiful memories for her.

A place that also leaves her feeling so connected to her maternal side. 

To her mother.

Roman serves as the quiet, always surveying husband who remains by her side the whole time as she goes from stall to stall. He serves as her personal shopping assistant as well, holding the growing number of bags for her purchases.

But, he handles it exceptionally well, never once complaining. Granted, she is mindful of the fact that the crowded market and all of the fellow shoppers and merchants seem to well exceed his tolerance for people in general.

So, she does make note to try to wrap it up sooner rather than later.

She’d never want to take advantage of his kindness and generosity.

Solana is at a stall looking at fabric when stiffening beside her drags her attention to her husband as well as what’s caused him to tense. 

A child.

A little girl. Around 8 or 9. She has dark hair that’s down and unruly, the light breeze in the market causing it to splash against her tanned face, hazel eyes landed directly on Roman. Her hand is outreached, a flower in hand. 

Solana recognizes it rather quickly. She steps forward, asking in Spanish, “is that for him?”

The little girl looks over and nods, directing her gaze back on Roman. Solana does the same, small smile on her face as she informs. “She’s giving it to you.” 

His expression is unchanged as he asks. “Why?”

Solana giggles. “It’s an Alstroemeria. They represent friendship.”

“This random ass kid wants to be my friend?”

Solana rolls her eyes. “She’s being friendly.” Seeing Roman has no intentions on further acknowledging this child, she gently shoves him. “Please?” The ‘for me?’ doesn’t need to be asked as Roman sighs loudly and accepts the flower followed up with a muttered ‘thanks.’

Pleased, the little girl beams, suddenly motioning both Roman and Solana to follow her.

Curious, Solana asks, “you want us to come?” 

She nods excitedly, pointing a few stalls down to where flowers bloom. Solana asks, “That’s where you got these from? You want us to see the rest?”

Another nod, and Solana finds herself following the child, Roman begrudgingly on the heel of her, committed to his not allowing her to explore a stretch of land or sea on this trip without him being right there next to her.

Even if it means forced socialization. 

Solana allows the child to guide them to the stall that’s filled with the most beautiful, intricate flowers she’s ever seen, some of which she recognizes from conversations with her mom.

“Look how beautiful…..” Her eyes land on the powder pink ones, a brief realization setting in as she asks the little girl, “are these sword lily’s?” 

Again, the child offers only a nonverbal acknowledgement via a head nod, and Solana starts to wonder if her silence is by choice or limitation. Either one, she can kind of relate to. 

Turning to Roman, Solana explains to him, “these are sword lilly’s. They represent sympathy and memories.” Memories…Solana has plenty of those. The good, to some extent, starting to outweigh the bad.

He looks more uninterested than the actual tone of his voice. “Do all Mexican flowers have some sort of meaning?”

“Some. Not all.” She answers, fingers gliding over the petals. “And it’s not always flowers native to Mexico, just flowers that we have meaning attributions for. Culturally.”

“You are correct.” A voice enters the conversation, Solana watching a woman step out back from behind the stall. Her hair is a deep onyx, thick and wavy, her skin lightly kissed by the sun that also highlights the beauty of her eyes. Fine lines give away that she has some years under her belt, but it’s hard to tell just how many. She switches languages, “You don’t speak Spanish like a tourist.”

Solana realizes she must have overheard her asking the girls about the flowers. “My—my mother was a Native.”

“She taught you well.” Her smile grows, warm and friendly, familiar in a weird sort of way. “What is your name, child?”

“Solana.” She gestures towards Roman who’s still looking just as uninterested as he’s been in any other type of social interaction outside of Solana. “This is my husband, Roman.”

“I figured.” She motions to Roman’s closeness to her, the way he stays almost hovering, protecting and caring but still pretty close. “He’s very protective of you.

Solana nods. She has no idea. “What is your name?”

“Paloma,” she introduces, removing one of her work gloves to shake Solana’s hand. The younger woman is slightly grateful that Paloma doesn’t try to greet Roman in the same manner. She’d surely get her feelings hurt. “What brings you here?

Again, a gesture to Roman with her thumb. “He surprised me for my birthday.”

Paloma makes a sound and smiles wryly. “Ahh, so it’s only others he’s unfriendly with.”

“He….he’s very quiet.” An ironic choice of words considering just who is saying them, but it’s the best word to come to mind to describe Roman without being mean. He is technically quiet, but the fact that it’s because he, in his own words, hates people isn’t necessarily something that needs to be shared. “Do you really grow all of these?”

“I do.” The proud smile on her face makes Solana smile just as warmly. “I own a nursery about twenty minutes out of here. A family business that my mother and her mother and her mother started generations ago.”

“That’s so beautiful.”

“It was….” The use of past tense causes Solana’s smile to dim a bit. She can sense there’s a story there, a story that no doubt holds some level of pain. Paloma shakes her head, gesturing to the flowers. “Were you wanting to buy any?”

“Uhhhh….” The technical answer is no. Solana would have probably stopped to admire the beautiful flowers, maybe tried to identify one or two, but it would not have gone beyond that. It’s the little girl who Solana realizes is behind the stand, poorly sneaking glances at Roman, who called them over. “Yes, I—”

“She brought you over, didn’t she?” 

“Yes.” Solana lowers her voice, asking as gently as she can. “Does she speak?”

“Yes, but she prefers not to. Very shy. Parents fight a lot. I don’t think she really gets a lot of space to talk.” And the frown is back. Solana can definitely understand that. “Do you two have plans tonight?”

“Uhhhh.” Solana turns to Roman, asking, “did you have anything else planned for us this evening?”

“If she’s trying to get us to do something around other people, yes. I’ll find something.”

Solana rolls her eyes, lightly scolding in her soft voice, “Roman, that’s not nice.”

“Solana, I’m pretty sure we had this conversation already. I don’t like people. I hate people. You’re the only one I like.”

Solana decides to win him over later versus now as she turns to Paloma with a friendly expression that contrasts her husband’s scowl. Something tells her he already knows she’s about to sign them up for something that forces him to be around people. 

“We’re free this evening. Why do you ask?”

________

“Tell me again why we’re meeting this random ass old woman for dinner?”

Solana is only seconds away from applying her lip gloss when Roman’s question deters her from her task, creating a new one in its place. Capping it, she walks out the bathroom, leaning against the doorway. “Her name is Paloma, and she’s really sweet, and she invited us.”

Turns out, Paloma owns one of the restaurants in town Solana remembers stumbling across when she was perusing other places to visit while on their trip. It’s just a crazy coincidence that Solana ended up running into her and receiving a personal invite to dine there for dinner this evening. 

And it’s an offer she didn’t want to turn down. 

“Are you sure she didn’t just invite you?”

Curious, she asks the question she’s almost certain she already knows the answer to. “Would you let me go by myself?”

“Hell no.”

“Exactly.” Walking over to Roman, Solana glides her hands up his chest, locking them behind his neck. “It’s just a dinner. We won’t even be there that long. Then…tomorrow, it’s just the two of us.”

“It could be the two of us tonight too….”

His fingers dance across the small of her back as she bites back a smile. “Roman, it’s been the two of us this entire trip already, basically….”

“You know I could never get enough of you…” He gently squeezes the sides of her stomach, sliding into reluctant acquiescence. “But, you know I can’t say no to you either so….”

She smiles and leans up and presses a kiss against his cheek, murmuring, “thank you.” Taking a bit of a mile with the inch she’s been given, she implores, “can you….try to be a little more friendly? For me?”

Roman looks at her like she just asked him to let her go alone. “Solana….”

“Just for tonight.”

“Do they even speak English?” She gives him a look that’s just another form of ‘for me?’ He tilts his head back and scratches his beard. “I’ll try not to maim or kill anybody. That’s the best you’re getting from me, baby.”

“Thank you.” She kisses him again, turning for the bathroom when he pulls her back to face him, and right away, she recognizes that look. “Roman….”

He ignores her, both casually and suggestively complimenting, “I like this dress.” It’s combined with him slowly moving one of the hands on her waist down the length of her dress until he can slip his hand underneath.

“T–thank you…” She swallows, struggling to stay focused. “We’re—we’re gonna be late.”

“Too bad.” He moves his hand between her legs, gradually sliding up her thighs. “Should have thought about that before you put this on.” He kisses her temple, asking in a low voice, “do you want me to stop?” At the same time, his hand pauses on her skin.

The logical answer is yes, but the carnal answer is the complete opposite. And desire seems to overpower logic in this round. “N–no.”

It’s the perfect answer for her husband whose full lips form into a smirk as he removes his hand to guide her towards the bed as he lays her on her back. Solana half expects him to move on top of her, but he instead moves to his knees and tugs her toward the edge of the bed.

The anticipation of what pleasure is to come makes her lick her lips, prematurely moaning his name, “Roman…”

His brown eyes flick up to her, desire and lust dancing away in his irises. 

Yeah, they’re most definitely going to be late.

________

The night goes as expected, Solana enjoying herself, and Roman enjoying that his wife is enjoying herself despite the fact that being surrounded by a bunch of fucking strangers who speak mostly in Spanish has him subtly checking the time on his watch more often than not.

The desire to pick up the language grows exponentially. Roman dislikes being out of the loop in any sort of capacity.

Solana translates for the most part, granted it’s mostly things he doesn’t really care too much about. Paloma asking what he thought about the food, requests to join in the dancing—that’s a hell no—and other pleasantries that violate his religion of Anti-Peopleology. 

Except his wife, of course.

And to be fair, they’re able to share their dinner together without many interruptions, conversation staying between the two of them, which he appreciates. He’d appreciate it more if no one was there to interrupt, but alas, Solana having a smile on her face almost the whole night makes it all worth it.

She seems exceptionally taken with the little random ass girl from the market whose name he doesn’t bother to remember. Something with an A, he’d guess. She also seems just as interested in Solana, which he doesn’t entirely not understand. She’s relatively mute with the exception of a couple of words and sentences.

It reminds him of Solana and how nonverbal she was at the beginning of the marriage. And something tells him the girl also reminds her of herself. Which makes the pull between the two make more sense than maybe he’d like to admit.

But, his inner dialogue is interrupted as the old lady approaches the table where he sits alone as Solana dances with the child, both of them smiling and laughing. 

“You’re not the social one of the two of you, are you?” She asks what he considers both a stupid and ironic question. Typically, Solana isn’t this social either. But this….this place….it seems to bring out a different side of her.

A happier side of her.

Roman only casts the old woman a bored glance. “This is her world. Not mine.”

The woman chuckles, and to Roman’s chagrin, sits down in the chair opposite of him. “Yes, I suppose this is very different from the Bloodline.”

Her statement doesn’t surprise him, doesn’t take him off guard, and that’s because Roman isn’t stupid. He would never allow some practical stranger to invite his wife for dinner at a restaurant she owns without researching her. 

Paloma Aguilar. 70. Widowed. One child who seemingly disappeared without a trace over twenty years ago. Her late husband, Ricardo, was a man who at one point entered the world of the cartel and smuggling, but it was short lived as he passed away from a heart attack at the age of 45. His brother, however, Tomas, is still actively involved, but Paloma couldn’t be farther removed.

From his research, Roman could see she truly prefers to live her life away from the in-laws business, preferring her restaurant and gardening, the polar opposite of the high-paced crime life. 

But, it would be ludicrous for her to not be aware of him and who he is, regardless of her preference to stay separate from that life.

Curious, though he already knows the answer, he asks, “when did you realize who I was?”

She smiles, “soon enough.” The lack of specificity annoys him even more than he already is. “Probably around the time you found out who I am.”

Interested to see how she’ll respond, he asks, “and just who are you?”

Her smile is small and sad. “Just an old woman living out the rest of her days in solitude.” Roman has experienced enough loss to be able to recognize when someone else has also had the misfortune of losing someone. It’s evident in her tone. 

Still, that doesn't diminish his disinterest in this conversation.

She also looks over at his dancing wife, casually commenting, “I suppose it’s true that opposites attract.”

Eager to stir this woman away, Roman responds with all the casualness. “I’m not Solana. You could be 90, and I’d still snap your fucking neck if you presented any kind of threat to my wife.”

It’s uncalled for. He knows this. A misplaced threat against an elderly woman, sure. But, it’ll hopefully be enough to get her to leave him the fuck alone. 

She smiles, partially surprising him. “Oh, I don’t doubt it, young man.” Her grin dims a bit. “I would never judge a man for protecting the woman he loves.”

Roman tenses, effectively managing to keep his reaction to her statement to himself.

Love

What the fuck is that even?

He knows…..familial love. But….romantic love? 

That’s….that’s such an unfamiliar concept. Something not even in his repertoire. 

He can’t deny that he likes Solana. A lot. Cares for her deeply, and recognizes that he needs her in his life. Needs her light in what is otherwise dark and dreary.

But…..

To say that he loves her….that’s too much. That’s too strong.

Too dangerous.

Love is weakness.

And Roman can’t afford to be weak. He won’t. Not for anything or anyone. 

Not even Solana.

But, of course, this old ass woman just has to twist the knife even deeper as she stands up to leave. “You two will make great parents.” Roman is an expert at hiding reactions to what’s being said to him, but this one takes some effort. A lot, if he’s being honest. “Your protectiveness. Her nurturance.”

With that, she finally leaves him be, but not without a million and one thoughts floating through his mind, all of them now revolving around two things he’s never considered for himself.

Love and children.

________

As the night comes to an end, Solana pulls Aurora, the sweet little girl who’s taken a liking to her and a crush on Roman, to the side. 

“I have something for you.”

Aurora’s eyes light up with all the excitement of a child eager to receive an unexpected present.

Solana hands over the beautiful journal she picked up in the market earlier that day. Originally a gift for herself, but now something that she wants to pass on to the little girl who reminds her so much of herself. 

Aurora’s mouth drops open with surprise as she accepts the leather journal. Solana smiles and explains, “When I was a little girl, I didn’t talk a lot either. But, my mom always told me that when I couldn’t speak, I could always write.” She frowns a bit, instructing. “And that’s what I did. I wrote until I found my voice. The same way you can.”

Aurora looks up with teary eyes and surprises Solana by attacking her with a big hug. Solana easily settles in the embrace, holding and hugging the little girl in a way that every child should be comforted.

Aurora pulls back and offers a simple, “thank you!”

Solana blinks back some tears. “You’re very welcome.” Her smile shifts into something teasing but also hopeful, “now I expect to see you when I come back to visit, okay?”

Aurora nods happily as she gives Solana one more hug before running over to an older woman who Solana would guess is her mother.

“She’ll never forget that, you know.” 

Turning to the source of the voice, Solana’s smile grows. “I hope not.”

Paoma chuckles and moves closer, repeating the same words. “I have something for you too.”

She pulls out a cloth jewelry bag and takes Solana’s hand, placing the bag in it. “Open it.”

Confused but curious, Solana does just that and gasps almost immediately at the beautiful gold necklace she recognizes instantly. “A Cruz de Caravaca.”

Paloma looks pleased by Solana’s knowledge and asks a follow up question. “How much do you know about these?”

Swallowing the emotion, she recalls the information taught to her so long ago. “They—they ward off evil and bring protection.” There’s an almost bitter tone that enters her voice. “My mother had one….” It’s the most Solana can bring herself to say, because her mother wore one almost religiously. And it did nothing to protect her from the evil of her father.

Or the knife that viciously tore and sliced through her body, violently ending her life. 

Paloma nods, complementing, “whoever taught you our ways taught you well.” 

Emotion burning the back of the throat, “it was my mom. She—she died when I was young.” Murdered. She was murdered, but acknowledging that feels too much, is too much. Regardless of how her life ended, it all means the same.

That she’s not here anymore.

Paloma’s expression is solemn as she lifts her right arm, turning it inward, revealing her tattoos. Two Hummingbirds. “Many years ago, I lost my daughter. And shortly after, my husband. I—I didn’t really know how to go on after that. She was my only child, and he was the only man I ever loved.” Her smile is emotional. “But then I remember that love never dies, it transcends into another form. They’re not here in the way I want them to be, but they’re still here. And every so often when I’m in my garden, I see Hummingbirds, and I feel better because I know they’re still with me. Watching over me.” 

Solana wipes at her eyes as Paloma places a comforting hand on her arm. “And so is your mother.”

It’s hard to verbalize what she’s feeling in this moment. Paloma’s words provide her with a type of comfort that feels almost motherly, an ironic feeling considering the nature of the conversation.

“Thank you.” It’s such a simple thing that doesn’t feel strong enough for how much Solana appreciates such comforting words of support. 

“You have a good heart. A kind soul. But, be careful child.” She takes Solana’s hands in her own. “My….my daughter was like you. Loving and giving. But too trusting, and it cost her her life. Betrayal and darkness can come from where you least expect it.” 

Paloma’s words confuse her. The warning aspect of it. What…what exactly does that mean?

“Stick with that husband of yours….” Paloma adds, smile gradually returning. “He is protective of you the way my husband used to be with me.” 

That ebbs away some of her confusion regarding the ominous warning, as Solana suddenly asks, almost tentatively. “Could I….could I come back and see you too?”

Paloma chuckles, and Solana almost swears she sees emotion brewing behind the woman’s wise gaze as she pulls her in for a hug.

“I’d be offended if you didn’t, child….”

________

He’s not entirely surprised to find her in the kitchen, but that doesn’t necessarily make her presence in the kitchen any less concerning. Especially when she’s supposed to be on bedrest.

Roman comes up behind her, smiling when she jumps a bit as he hugs her. Years later, some things remain the same. 

Solana turns around, a warm smile on her pretty face. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” Not necessarily. He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to find it in him to be sorry for touching his wife.“Hi.”

“Hi.” She giggles as he kisses her. 

Eyes shutting a bit as he relishes in the feeling he’s craved dearly for the past few weeks. “I missed you all.”

“We missed you too,” she murmurs, moving her hands up his chest. “You look tired.”

He’s a bit jet lagged, but it’s nothing he won’t bounce back from in a couple of days. That’s the least of his concern, anyway. Roman moves his hand to her stomach, big and swollen, pressing against his abs. “You should be resting.”

Solana rolls her eyes and calmly counters, “not with how active this one is.” She moves his hand around, probably trying to find a spot where he can feel the movement. “He’s definitely your son.”

He counters, “even more reason to be resting.” 

She shakes her head, changing the subject a bit as she softly shares, “they’ll be happy to see you. I didn’t tell them you were coming home early.”

His eyes light up a bit as he asks, “where are they?”

Solana chuckles. “You already know.”

Roman makes a sound and nods, murmuring with a final kiss to her temple, “I’ll be back.” 

He walks out of the kitchen and into the hall, moving to the back of the house.

Two separate rooms, directly across from one another, each providing a variety of different activities and spaces. Most completely opposite one another. Expected, given their staunchly different personalities.

There’s no active decision regarding which room he walks in first, no specific desire to see or interact with one over the other. He just so happens to venture left vs right. 

And sure enough, as predicted, she sits at the table, so small but perfect for her. She’s focused on the paper in front of her and crayon in her hand. So focused to the point where she misses his entrance, doesn’t overhear his footsteps until he’s only a few feet away from her.

But when she does, big brown eyes landing on him, eyes that are exact replicas of her mothers, the crayon is dropped and the smile is out. She jumps up from the seat and runs over to him, Roman leaning down just in time to catch her hug, an instant ease washing over him, deeper than what’s allotted even with his wife.

This is something different, something deeper, something he still doesn’t quite know or believe he deserves to feel. But nevertheless, it’s present, it’s felt, and it’s wonderful.

When she pulls away, he finds himself pushing back some of her curls, light and fluffy, framing her face that’s the perfect combination of himself and Solana. “I missed you…” Her smile grows as he asks, eyes narrowed a bit. “Were you a good girl for your mom while I was gone?” She nods excitedly and reaches for his hand, Roman standing as she guides him over to the table where she was drawing. Roman crouches back down as she shares her artwork, an in-progress photo of the ocean, most likely scenery she’s memorized from one of their many trips to Isla Mujeres. “Is this what you’re working on?” Again, another nod as she points between the drawing and him. He points to himself. “Is this gonna be for me?”

Instead of the expected no, she answers in her voice, so soft and light. “I’m sorry it wasn’t done in time….”

A small smile grows on his face. She’s very much unlike her sister, of very few words. So much so that Roman insisted he and Solana discuss her quietness with the pediatrician to make sure nothing was wrong. And of course, nothing was. It’s just that she inherited quite literally Solana’s entire disposition. Quiet with a great big heart that seems too pure for this world.

And, unfortunately, a tendency to apologize when unnecessary.

“It’s perfect, sweetheart.” His praise seems to bring back her smile as he kisses her forehead. “Fa'afetai tele.”

She matches his smile, surprising him yet again with more spoken words vs non verbals. “E le afaina.” 

Standing back up, he informs, “I’m gonna go see your sister. Can you go help mom finish cooking dinner?” He knows Solana is almost done, if not already, but Roman also knows that personality and disposition weren’t the only things inherited. So were passions and interests, hence the drawing.

And cooking, judging by the way her eyes light up as she dashes out the room to play assistant.

Roman chuckles and walks out, hitting the switch as he moves across the hall, once again unsurprised by what he finds. She’s going at it with the freestanding punching bag, kicks that are pretty impressive considering her age. Her face is scrunched up in determination, the same face as her sisters yet so different. 

Where one is soft and quiet, the other is loud and bold. One is timid, the other adventurous. One is Solana, but this one….she’s her father’s daughter, through and through. Bold and fearless. 

“Don’t forget to point your toes.”

His deep voice breaks through her concentration as she whips her head to the side, a reaction similar to her twin sister. A huge smile breaks through that impressive focus.

“Daddy!”

Again, he moves to one knee to catch her for a hug, tight and heartwarming. She pulls back almost immediately, asking with all the excitement. “Did you see me?”

“I sure did.” He comments on what’s more than obvious. “you’ve been practicing.”

She nods with just as much excitement. “Aunt Bayley and Aunt Naomi said I’m really good!”

“You are.” He wouldn’t lie to her. She is. But, he also knows it’s because this is her passion. Where her sister finds joy in art and books, she gets that joy from movement, from fighting, her gravitation towards martial arts happening at such a young age. 

“I’m gonna be better than you!” He chuckles. At not even a fraction of his age, she already is. And it has nothing to do with her natural fighting abilities. 

“We’ll see.”

“I am!” She affirms, so determined and focused. “I’m gonna wear the ula fala and be Tribal Chief just like you, daddy!”

Roman does his best to keep that small ounce of concern hidden and tucked away. Young. She’s too young to know just what she’s asking for, the weight that comes with what he does, the truth about what and who he is.

It’s been the decision of both himself and Solana to shield the girls from it. The truth of it all. For now. As long as they can, at least. But the girls aren’t dumb either, they know he holds a high rank, one of the highest, in his family.

And his spitfire of a daughter seems determined to do the exact same.

“Cousin Jamar was saying I can’t cause I’m a girl, but I told him he’s just a stupid boy and I’m way smarter anyway.”

Roman’s eyes narrow slightly as asks the question he already knows the answer to. “And you hit him too, didn’t you?”

Even when he has to be away from home, Solana makes sure to keep him informed of all happenings with the girls, especially this one who’s already gotten in trouble a couple of times at school for her mouth.

And fist.

Her eyes drop as she pouts slightly, murmuring, “he made me mad….” His temper. She definitely has inherited that too. “No one talks about me, you, mommy, sissy or my new baby brother, or I’ll punch them in their face.”

This is the part where Roman struggles, where he tries his best to tap into that part of him that feels so unfamiliar. Because his initial response is that she did nothing wrong, that she’s doing exactly what she’s entitled to.

Protecting her family and standing up for what she believes is right. 

“It’s important to know when to fight, and it’s a lot harder not to sometimes.” That’s the best he can come up with in the moment to not necessarily let her know he doesn’t see much of an issue with her behavior. “I’ll teach you.”

Her eyes light up with excitement. “I get to train with you?” A request she’s had for at least the past two years, Roman pushing it off and allowing Bayley and Naomi to help her because his level of training is far too intense for her young age.

But

That doesn’t mean he can’t modify his approach a bit. 

“Yes!” She jumps up and down, hugging him, another small smile on Roman’s face. Some kids like to play dolls, like his other daughter, but this one….this one lives for a good fight.

And speaking of, the calmer of the two of them coming running into the room, Roman turning just in time as she smiles and tugs on his shirt, motioning for them to follow her.

“Is dinner ready?” Learning to understand her even with the absence of speech has come second nature for all of them. 

She nods, as the other one breaks the hug with Roman, asking her twin with all the excitement and competitiveness. “Wanna race?”

Roman already knows the answer, watching as his more quiet child is suddenly waiting for her sister to count them off. Seconds later, the two of them rush out the room on a trajectory that’ll lead to Solana who will no doubt chastise them for running in the house.

But they come back, giggling together as they stand in the doorway, hitting him with both a question and a demand. 

“Daddy, are you coming?”

“Daddy, wake up!”

Roman shoots up from the bed, hulking shoulders moving up and down in sync with his heavy breathing. Movement to the side of him shows him Solana shifting in her sleep, a peaceful expression on his face.

It’s the exact opposite of how he feels. 

Moving his hand through his silky, wavy locks, Roman takes the blanket off of him and carefully moves out the bed, prioritizing not disturbing his wife. 

He blows out a breath and walks out the double doors that bring him to the patio, his big body settling down on one of the chaise lounges.

It’s only then he asks himself the burning question at the back of his mind.

What the fuck was that?

Roman doesn’t really dream a lot, and when he does, they’re more along the lines or nightmares.

Night terrors when he was younger.

But this……he doesn’t even know what the fuck that was.

Children.

Roman has never really seen himself as a father, never allowed himself to think about it because it’s never really been a desire. He’s always known that he would have to create an heir to carry on his legacy, but that’s a thing of duty. Not desire.

So why the fuck is he dreaming about having not one but several children with Solana?

Solana….

Her oath a few weeks back of giving him an heir returns to the front of his mind. It makes him wonder all of sudden what her view on children is. Does she want children? Without inside knowledge of her trauma, one would think that’s an obvious thing. She would have never married him, never agreed to the arrangement when the sole purpose of the union was to create a child if she didn’t, in fact, want a child. 

But, Roman knows her, knows her trauma. Knows that she was forced into this.

Which makes him incapable of shooting down the possibility that maybe she doesn’t even want children?

And then he thinks about her tonight, thinks about the permanent smile on her face as she interacted with that little girl, the way she interacted with several of the children present who came up to her.

She looked….she looked happy. 

Content.

And of course, the now haunting words of the old woman who Solana also seems to have heavily gravitated towards: 

“You two will make great parents.”

Thinking about and being completely honest with himself, he sees it for Solana. Could….could see her as a mother.

But seeing himself as a father….that’s something he can’t answer. Can’t understand, really. 

The same way he can’t understand why there’s a small part of him that’s upset he woke up.

Upset that the dream didn’t last just a little bit longer. 

Upset that he’s now thinking heavily about what the old lady predicted.

Himself and Solana as parents. 

Fuck.

First the love comment, now this?

Damn that old woman.

________

Something is off with Roman.

Solana has noticed it ever since the night of the dinner at Paloma’s restaurant. She figured it was maybe because Roman really can only withstand so much social interaction. Chalked it up to him needing the night to sleep it off.

But, it was there the next day and the day after that and even as their trip in Isla Mujeres came to an end. 

On the jet ride back home, he’s quiet, working diligently on his work laptop. She tries her best not to think too much of it, because it’s not like he’s ignoring her. He still talks to her, still interacts with her, still touches her, but it’s just….off.

There’s like this….this distance that she can’t understand.

A distance that hurts. 

It’s why she stands in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to not get too into her head over her dress. It’s probably the most risqué thing she’s ever worn, more skin showing than she would prefer to be exposed. But, a small part of her hopes it will catch Roman’s attention.

Hopes it can progress the touches into something more.

Because along with his distant behavior, there’s been a lack of intimacy between them. And that’s especially hard for her to not think too much about. Because, to her, it was going well. She….she enjoys being with him in that way. Being that close to him.

She thought he did too.

Roman suddenly knocks on the bathroom door, asking, “you almost—damn.” Him stopping himself puts a smile on her face. 

Solana chews on her bottom lip, asking, “do–do you like it?” She then motions to her chest that’s heavily exposed. “I know it’s—it’s a lot.”

Roman moves closer to her, eyes raking over her slowly, hand moving to the back of her, under her dress, cupping her ass. “You sure you don’t want to stay in tonight?” A small smile starts to form on her face at his suggestive tone. “The two of us…naked.”

Her stomach flutters with excitement. This is the first time in days that he’s expressed any desire to be with her in that way, and now she’s beyond grateful that she pushed past her insecurity and put on the dress. Because it’s brought out that side of him that she’s been missing.

The side that makes her feel like he wants her.

A hand on his chest, she murmurs, “when we get back.”

Because while she also has a desire to be intimate with him, she’s also excited to see their friends.

Naomi, Bayley, and the twins inviting her (and naturally, Roman) out to a VIP lounge to have a belated birthday celebration since she wasn’t available to do anything with them for her actual birthday. She’s excited to see them, to be around her friends. 

“Are you….” Solana doesn't know where exactly it comes from, the bravery and confidence to ask what she’s about to, but it seems to leave her mouth before she can really think too much about it. “Are you okay?”

His gaze takes a curious tone. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, suddenly nervous about how to word it right. “I don’t know. You’ve just seemed….kinda off the past couple days.” He swallows, and she sees something flash in his eyes, something he shoves away. Something she’s now just as curious about. “Is–”

“I’m fine,” he answers. For some reason, she has a hard time believing that. “Adjusting to being back has just been irritating. I’ve never taken a vacation before, so shit has just been an annoying adjustment.”

Solana nods, believing there could be some truth to that. She doesn’t doubt it’s been an adjustment for him. But, there’s also this nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that there’s something else he’s not telling her.

“O-okay.” Something tells her this conversation will need to be revisited, just not right now. Not when it’s clear he has no desire to express whatever is really bothering him.

Roman dips his head and kisses her cheek. “Let’s get out of here. The sooner we get back, the sooner I can be inside you.” She giggles, gasping as he slaps her ass. 

“Roman!”

________

The lounge is beautiful. Reminiscent of an upscale club, minus the packed bodies and loud music. It’s clearly geared toward upscale clientele, and the second level of the lounge has been rented out, space cleared for their small party.

Something she greatly appreciates. Both for herself and Roman. Her husband already sacrificed so much of his preference to be isolated from others vs surrounded by people on their trip. 

The group separates naturally, Roman and the twins with Solana sitting near Bayley and Naomi, the two women nearly bursting at the seams with a ton of questions/statements.

“How was it?”

“We already know it was nice considering we barely heard from you.”

“Dulce mama was out here living her best life.”

“You got a lil tan too!”

“We want to know everything.”

Solana giggles, shrugging. “It was really nice.”

Bayley scoffs, “just nice? Girl, you gotta give us more than that.”

Solana opens her mouth, pausing a bit. “I mean….we spent a lot of time together.” Her eyes fall over to Roman who’s surprisingly engaging in conversation with Jimmy and Jey. Solo, as well. His presence surprised her. 

She didn’t know he was coming. Not to mention, she didn’t think he’d want to be present for anything that’s not required when it comes to her.

“And?”

Solana knows they’re not intentionally asking about sex, but their questions are unintentionally pointing her to share just that. And for some reason, most likely the trust and bond she’s formed with them, she’s not opposed.

That doesn’t stop the maddening blush from forming on her cheeks as she shares, “we—well, we finally, umm—”

Loud gasps interrupt her, Naomi being the one to ask the infamous question, “Solana, did ya’ll….” Solana chews on her bottom lip, nodding softly.

Bayley and Naomi have to cover their mouths to hold in the screams that would no doubt draw all of the wrong attention.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Bayley exclaims, suddenly asking with all the protectiveness, “he was good to you, right? Didn’t pressure you—”

“No. No. Never.” That’s probably the easiest thing to answer. Solana doesn’t know how to properly express how good Roman was to her. Has been to her. “He was—it was perfect.”

Naomi smirks, playfully nudging Solana’s shoulder. “We told you it was great with the right person.” They couldn’t have been more right. “So….was it just once or—”

Bayley scoffs. “We cannot be asking her all these intimate details!” Only to then casually ask, “so like how big is his dick really?”

Naomi falls out laughing while Solana’s eyes widen at the graphic nature of Bayley’s question. 

“So you can ask about his dick size, but I can’t ask about how many times they’ve done it?”

Bayley protests, sipping some of her Vodka as she counters, “my question is for science.”

“Bullshit!” 

Solana shakes her head, giggling as she coyly answers, “we…it’s been a couple times.”

Naomi smirks. “Okay, girl, I see you. Ya’ll went to Mexico and got freaky.” Solana takes a sip of her bottled water, more than certain her cheeks are a red, hot mess. “Seriously though….I’m happy for you. With what you’ve been through, you deserve to have a happy, healthy, sex life. Every woman does.”

“She’s right.” Bayley agrees, and Solana finds the emotions brewing again. 

Never did she think it was possible, that she could have just that. A healthy sex life. Just how she never imagined she would end up with someone as amazing as Roman. Yet both of those things are exactly what have happened, and she’s never been happier. 

“Wait, does this mean we’re gonna be godmothers soon?” Bayley asks an otherwise normal question that has Solana still in her seat. 

Naomi chimes, “I mean, she’s not allowed to be on birth control, and I know Roman had to have broken his condom only rule since they’re married so….”

Solana has a hard time saying anything, has a hard time not thinking about something that should have been considered the moment that barrier was broken.

Roman and Solana have consummated their marriage.

They’ve had sex. 

Several times.

Unprotected sex.

They are actively having unprotected sex.

Naomi is right in that not once did Roman bring up protection. 

It has her wondering now if he didn’t bring it up because, in his mind, they’re now working on creating an heir?

But, she dispels that theory pretty quickly, remembering how determined he was to help her not feel any pressure regarding them conceiving a child. He’s never seemed too concerned with that part of their marriage deal.

Unless….

Unless it was because they weren’t sexually active, but now that they are….

Suddenly, another conversation with Roman regarding just what the plan is for that is on the agenda.

Along with whatever it is that’s bothering him that he won’t open up about. 

Bayley and Naomi must pick up on her change and mood, switching the conversation to something regarding some mess that kicked off at the Warehouse between Nia and some person named Mia. Solana does her best to follow along when she feels her phone vibrate in her bag. 

Pulling it out, she unlocks her phone and opens up messages, specifically the unopened thread from an unsaved number.

Unknown: Did you really think you would get away with fucking us over?

Unknown: You were warned.

Unknown: What happens next is on you.

The phone drops out of Solana’s hand the minute she’s done reading the text. She can barely breathe, barely process what’s happening as her head snaps up, eyes frantically searching for the one person who’s now been kicked to the front of her mind.

Roman

She spots him, expression unreadable as he sips on a beer, speaking to Solo.

Solana jumps up from the sofa, ignoring Naomi and Bayley asking what’s wrong. She kicks her heels off and makes a beeline straight for him, uncaring about the bodies she has to squeeze between, the few individuals who she actually shoves out of her way. Something at any other time she wouldn’t dare consider doing. But this isn’t any other time, this is life or death.

Literally.

“Roman!”

His eyes snap with hers seconds before she successfully makes her way over to him. Her heart feels like it’s about to beat out of her chest. She can barely breathe, and she’s certain that she’s trembling, but none of that stops her from rushing out, “we have to get out of here!”

His hands move to her face, cupping it, taking note of her frantic state as he asks with all of the protectiveness. “What’s wrong?”

Eyes watering, she opens her mouth. “I—”

That’s as far as it goes, the most and only thing that she’s able to express because before she’s cut off. Roman’s gaze lifts above her and the last thing she sees is the slight widening of his eyes as he shoves her to the side of him with so much force that she slams against the ground, her head bouncing off the carpeted floor.

But, that’s not what catches her attention. Not the shock of him pushing her so harshly, putting his hands on her in a way she would have never thought possible. No, that’s not an issue at all, because the sound that only seems to have registered upon her fall is what has her attention snatched and fixated.

A single sound that she hasn’t heard in years.

A gunshot. 

And then chaos.

There’s shouts, there’s screams, there’s people running around in a mass panic, but a single voice cuts through all of that: clear, loud, furious. “Get her out of here now!”

Roman.

And it’s the sound of his voice that makes Solana snap her head to the side, eager to lay eyes on him in the midst of this chaos.

But, it’s when she does that everything changes, the world stops and time stands still.

“No.” She can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move, can’t function because all she can focus on is the sight of Roman’s men with a perimeter around him, guns lifted and aimed, ready to fire off at a moment's notice. “Roman!” She tries to climb up off the floor, tries to get to him, to see him, to touch him. 

Solana is unable to look away from the sight of him holding onto his shoulder, face grimaced in pain, blood seeping through his long fingers.

But before can get to him, before she can actually touch him, another voice calls out, “cover me!” And she’s suddenly off the floor, body pressed against a stranger, the interaction causing her to try to jerk away. 

Partially because of the contact, mostly because she needs to get to Roman.

“We gotta get you out of here!” Solo’s voice, harsh and determined, makes her realize he’s the strange body that she also now realizes is trying to get her the hell out of dodge. “Now!”

And it’s right then and there that another gunshot rings out, followed by several more.

Solana’s panic nearly triples as she tries to push him away, tears burning her eyes, “no! I’m not leaving him!” Solana beats her fist against Solo as he continues to drag her, Solana begging, “don’t make me leave him!” The tears are spilling over, the last glimpse of Roman showing Jimmy and Jey rushing over in his direction. “Please!” Solana continues to cry out his name, fighting a losing battle against Solo who is successful in ushering her out of the emergency exit located in the back. 

Once outside, he has to keep dragging her down the fire escape staircase, because she doesn’t stop trying to push him away and doesn't stop from trying to get back to Roman. Solana can’t stop replaying the nightmare that has just become a reality. 

She has no idea where Naomi is. Where Bayley is. Only able to see the twins and Roman before she was ripped away from the scene.

Roman….

He pushed her to protect her.

Moved her out the line of fire and took the bullet intended for her.

He’s been shot because of her.

He’s been hurt because of her.

And it’s all her fault.

[g-hughes]

Bite Me - Q. Hughes

hockey masterlist | g's graduation celly

synopsis: When one of Quinn's teammates asks if their sister could stay with him to bounce back after a break-up, Quinn said yes. But six months later, Quinn feels like he has met his matched. Or when Quinn Hughes falls for his roommate, who happens to be his teammate's sister.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smut mentioned! friends with benefits situation, Boeser!Reader, nudity, cursing.

Quinn Hughes thought of himself as being a “good guy”. He held doors open for people, swapped seats on airlines when asked, donated money to various charities, and spent time, when he could, coaching the Canucks Youth Team. He was a good guy and an even better teammate and captain.

He prided himself on being the one on the team the guys could go to when they needed advice or just someone to sit and listen to them rant. He would give his teammate the shirt off his back if one of them asked. So when Brock Boeser, Quinn’s best friend, asked if his younger sister could crash with him for a few days, Quinn said yes without even really thinking it through. 

“It’ll be a few days,” Brock assured Quinn as he brought in one of her suitcases, “Her dick head ex cheated on her and threw all her shit in the driveway. She was gonna spring for a hotel, but I couldn’t let her do that. I’d let her stay at mine, but we’re remod-” 

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Quinn assured his winger, “I know you’d do the same if it was one of my brother’s. She can crash here as long as she needs.” 

“She swears it’ll only be a few days.” 

But a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks into a few months. Now it's been six months and Y/N Boeser has become Quinn’s official unofficial roommate. And he hated it. 

Quinn didn’t want a roommate, nor did he need one. He actually loved coming home to a quiet apartment after weeks on the road. He liked the solitude of being able to hide away from the cameras and the press in his face and following his every move. He liked to be able to walk around damn near naked and not have to worry about being walked in on. But having a roommate, all those privileges had been taken away. 

“Quintin! You parked in my fucking spot!” Y/N yelled as she slammed the front door shut. Quinn smirked to himself, as he finished mixing around the vegetables in the pan. He knew exactly what he did and he knew it was going to piss you off. Quinn had two parking spots, one for himself and one for a guest (which had become Y/N as of late), and he decided that tonight, he was going to forget his driver’s ed training and park in the middle of the two spots. 

“Quintin,” Y/N groaned, coming into the kitchen, setting down her bags from work. Quinn looked over his shoulder, trying his hardest to fight the urge to stare at your breasts. 

Yes, Quinn hated having a roommate, but it did come with its own perks. Such as, his roommate was very, very attractive. 

“Oh hey sweetheart,” Quinn smirked, “Did I miss something?” 

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms across her chest, pushing her tits up even more in the tight tanktop she was wearing, “You know what you fucking did, you parking in the middle of the spots again!” 

"Oh, I did?" He feigned innocence, "Well, maybe if you didn't leave all your damn shoes by the fucking door!"

"It was one pair! One pair, Quintin!"

"Quit calling me Quintin!"

Y/N groaned and grabbed her bag, stomping her way out of the kitchen. Quinn turned back towards the dinner he was cooking, his mood sour. He had such a good day too. Practice went smoothly, Toch only yelled at them for an hour instead of two. Things were finally starting to take a turn after a losing streak that put everyone on edge. Quinn felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, his first season as captain after a disappointing season. He had to prove himself, he had to prove that he was worthy of the captain spot. 

Oh, and waking up with Y/N’s mouth wrapped around his cock was an added bonus. 

Quinn hated to admit it out loud, it made him feel dirty and wrong about it, but there was nothing dirty and wrong about it. It seemed to have happened naturally, the tension between them building since the moment Quinn first saw Y/N. He had done his best to ignore her for the first week she was occupying his guest room. She had just been broken up with in a horrible way, and was trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered years-long relationship. But then she started to come out of her room, and she was like a storm, Quinn had no idea how to brace for. 

She was sassy, and smart, and beautiful, and stubborn, and messy, and so fucking sexy when she was pissed off about something work or at Quinn for parking over the line of his parking spot. 

It was bound to happen, the tension and animosity growing between them as the days went by. It turned into more than Quinn bitching about the shoes by the front door, which he had repeatedly told her to stop leaving them there. It turned into her bitching at Quinn for leaving dirty plates in the sink. Then it was Quinn bitching about how she would take the full garbage bag out of the can and leave it by the front door (in her defense, the dumpster was in the alley behind the building and Quinn didn’t feel very comfortable with her taking it out late at night). Then it was Y/N bitching about Quinn leaving his travel bag, unpacked, in the laundry room between roadies. 

The final straw for both of them was when they both came home, unsatisfied in different ways. Quinn had come home from a long roadie, the majority of them being losses. All he wanted to do was take a bath and relax and regroup for the next series ahead. Y/N, had come home from yet another shitty date. She insisted that her date didn’t need to walk her to the door, but he wanted to make sure she got in safely, or so he said. Quinn could hear her fake laughter from the other side of the door, as he stood at the kitchen counter, waiting for the tea kettle to whistle. 

“I had a good time,” She said, “Thanks for walking me back.” 

“No problem,” A male’s voice sounded out, “Ya know. . . this doesn’t have to end here.” 

Quinn grimaced. It didn’t take a genius to know that Y/N wasn’t interested. 

“I uh. . . I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Quinn could almost picture her nervously pushing her hair behind her ear, “I’ll give you a call.” 

“C’mon,” The guy was sounding desperate, “We both want to end the night right.” 

It was silent for a moment, and for some odd reason, anger flowed through Quinn’s body. Was the guy kissing her? Was she seriously considering letting him in? Quinn had never brought it up, but he assumed that Y/N wasn’t having people over. Not that she couldn’t, he guessed, it was her place too. But for some reason, the idea of her having a man in her bed pissed him off. 

“You’re right,” Y/N sighed. Quinn’s body seemed to move on it’s own accord as he walked over to the front door, his hand wrapping around the knob, “I better go see if my vibrator is charged. Night, Marcus!” 

Quinn jumped back startled as the front door was pushed open and Y/N charged in. He could see the confused face of the man, Marcus, behind the door as it slammed in his face. Y/N groaned as she kicked off her shoes and tossed her purse on the couch. Quinn wanted so badly to make a comment about her shoes, but instead he said;

“You have a vibrator?” 

Y/N looked at him, one eyebrow raised, “I am not a 16 year old. Of course I have a vibrator. Almost every woman has one.” 

“You use it?” 

“Yes, perv,” Y/N scoffed, and reached for her purse, “Boe said you were quiet, but I didn’t know quiet meant stalker. Night.” 

Quinn blinked several times as she walked down towards her room. His mind, again, thinking of other things to say, like apologizing for asking her such a vulnerable question, but instead, once again he blurted the wrong thing. 

“I don’t want you having sex in my house.” 

Y/N paused in her walk, holding still for a moment and turning around to face him, “Excuse me?” 

“I don’t want you having sex in my house,” Quinn stood firm on what he said, even though he regretted it the second he said it. Even though her name wasn’t on the lease, she was still living and paying rent (Quinn told her several times her money was useless, but she cried and told him she had to contribute somehow). 

“I am not.” 

“Good.” 

“Good?” 

“Mhm,” Quinn nodded. It was silent again as the two of them stared each other down, tension thick in the air like smoke. 

“Need anything else?” Y/N asked, breaking the silence. She folded her arms under her chest, pushing her breasts up in the tight black dress she was wearing. Quinn gulped, taking in her appearance; short, tight black dress, black leather jacket, black heels that made her legs look like they went on for miles. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, a dainty good chain around her neck. Quinn gulped, thinking and praying of anything that would keep the blood from rushing south. 

“Nope,” He shook his head. 

“Good,” Y/N responded, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to end my night right.” Quinn felt his boxers grow tighter as she turned on her heel, and walked down to her door. She stopped just before going inside her room, “Ya know, a gentleman would ask if I need help.” 

Quinn watched as her eyes seemed to turn a shade darker and looked him over from head to toe. In two quick strides, Quinn was pushing her against her door, his lips on hers. Her hands were in his hair, pulling on the locks she told him not to cut. His hands roamed her body, pulling her as close to him as she could possibly get. He shamelessly rutted her hips against her, his cock begging for release from his pants. 

“If I fuck you, will you stop leaving your shoes by the door?” Quinn mumbled, his lips leaving a trail of searing hot kisses on her skin. 

“If you do a good job, I might consider it.” 

From that night, their friends with benefits relationship blossomed. One would think with the among of orgasms they gave each other, that the animosity would be nearly nonexistent. But it only seemed to up the ante between them. The fights were louder, the pranks were almost near nuclear, and the sex. . . the sex was downright rough and dirty. It almost became part of Quinn’s pregame ritual, to fuck Y/N or jerk off to a video of her. 

Y/N clenched her jaw as she threw her dirty work clothes into the hamper, getting ready to shower the day off. She grabbed her speaker, making sure to turn it up loud enough to annoy Quinn down in the kitchen. He hated her taste in music, and she was well aware of it, always taking the aux cord from her when they would drive to Roger’s. Quinn also liked to eat his dinner in silence, claiming it was one of the only times of his day he had to himself. 

Smiling, she turned on Taylor Swift, letting the bass hit her ears as she stepped into the hot stream of her shower. 

Quinn was mid bite when the all too familiar intro to “SLUT!” started playing. He groaned, slamming his fork down, “One dinner. One fucking dinner in peace.” He pushed his chair away, storming down the hallway towards Y/N’s room. He wasn’t surprised to find her bedroom door unlocked, almost as if she was expecting him. He was about to push the door open, when he heard another all too familiar sound coming from the other side, the blood in his body rushing south. He smirked, imagining how deep her fingers were inside of her to get that kind of reaction. 

Quinn could tell she was getting close by the way her moans got higher pitched. He knew now was the time to strike. Pushing the door open, he walked right over to her shower and yanked back the curtain. 

“Quintin!” Y/N squealed, pulling her hands away from her core and covering her chest, “What the fuck!?” 

"Don't be shy, sweetheart," He smirked, looking up and down her soaking wet body. He licked his lips, and she scoffed, turning away from him, "Oh come on, it's not like I haven't seen it before. Turn back around, lemme see the girls again."

"Oh bite me, Hughes!" Y/N turned the shower head towards him, affectively soaking him. Quinn turned his body away from the water stream that was not only soaking his t-shirt and shorts, but the floor. 

"No," Quinn grunted and grabbed the shower head, turning it back towards her, "You'd enjoy it too much."

Y/N looked over at him, "You're all wet."

"That makes two of us now, huh," Quinn shot her that megawatt smile. Y/N rolled her eyes and snatched the shower curtain from his hand.

"You just lost your invite!"

my requests are open!! :)

[spideyhexx]

sub!snowjanus x dom!reader where she finds them doing it together without permission and punishes them. maybe bratty!coryo idkk. ALSO I LOVE YOUR WRITING -(🍒 anon (IF ITS NOT TAKEN YET))

THAT IS ALL YOURS AND THANK YOU SM THIS IS GREAT

also ty to @goosita and @floralcyanide for talking through this concept with me and making me write this tonight instead of tomorrow <3 I popped off with this.

mdni

Coryo was well aware you told him and Sej to not fool around or even touch themselves this next week. You were busy and you wanted to have some excitement to look forward to at the end of a long and stressful week and this was the way you thought you'd get it; having a night or even a day of pleasure with your two lovers who have been built up all week. It sounded like a dream.

But Coryo is an evil little shit. You knew this. Sej knew it. Coryo knew it. But he's never attempted something as risky as this.

With only half the week gone by, he's losing his mind. He's gotten so used to your and Sej's touches that now he's spiraling without it. He doesn't even think to jack off, knowing it wouldn't feel the same.

Coryo has a different plan.

One night, he gets Sej to invite him over while you're still working. Sej is no fool. He can see it in Coryo's eyes. The way he lingers his hand on Sej's arm or how he kept bumping his knee against Sej's own as they sat in bed, talking.

While Sej usually had a lot more self-control, he has to admit to himself the week has been torturous for him too. Ever since Coryo joined your relationship, the need to satiate his desires has only heightened.

So it's no surprise that when Coryo leans in to kiss Sej, his hand moving from the boy's arm to his thigh, Sej gives in. Coryo is surprised at how quickly Sej leans into the touch, his kisses more urgent than he's ever felt them before. "She's gonna be so mad," Sej mumbles as Coryo's fingers make quick work of undoing Sej's pants.

"She's not here right now," Coryo says, in almost an irritated tone. His brow is furrowed and he smiles against Sej's lips when he wraps his hand around Sej's length, stroking it in slow, painful movements until Sej breaks, pushing Coryo down onto his back in bed.

"We have to be fast," Sej mutters, only pulling Coryo's own trousers down enough to get his cock out as he lays over the boy, pressing himself flush against him and grinding their dicks against one another.

Coryo's smirk etches deep into his face at the feeling, letting himself moan out, "fuck, finally," and Sej laughs, burying his head into Coryo's neck as he rocks his hips against Coryo.

This feeling, his blood rushing only to his dick as he gets harder, the ache burning deep within him as he feels Sej's sweaty body trembling above him, both of them so desperate after only a couple days without a release. The way Coryo was rolling his hips up against Sej to make the boy moan into his neck and the light little kisses that Sej would leave on his skin. This feeling makes it all worth it.

Even when the door opens and you're standing, your jaw about to drop at the sight.

Coryo sees you first, patting Sej's shoulder gently and he turns, going red in the face when he locks eyes with you. Coryo still has a smirk on his face and that is all you can focus on.

Without a word, you put your bag down, your coat following, and then your shoes. You take your time, knowing both of them have sat up and Sej is the first one to speak, "I'm sorry, doll, w-we were so worked up and I...we missed being able to-"

"I know baby," you coo at Sej, moving near him and cupping his face in your hands, giving his forehead a light kiss, mumbling against it, "but you still broke my rules." You feel him try to nod in your hold and his eyes shine big at you. "I'm s-sorry," he says in a hushed whisper and your eyes dart to Coryo who's sat back against the pillows.

"Sej, baby, can you go get the ties from my closet?" His eyes trail up and down your face before nodding and you let go of him, beckoning Coryo to come closer. He obeys, to your surprise and you give him a soft smile.

It almost makes him lose his demeanor because he knows by now you're not thinking of anything soft. "I take it you started this?"

He nods, not afraid to admit this to you, "What was I supposed to do? We wanted to fuck around, so we did. Your rule was pointless."

You raise a brow, a little surprised by his confidence, something you so rarely see from him in bed. "Honey, if you want to be that way-"

"What way?" His head is held high as if he's challenging you, wanting to see exactly how far you'd go.

Your smile drops a little and you lean closer to him, kissing the corner of his lips, "If you want to be a brat, I'll treat you like one. You haven't learned this yet, but I don't take these things lightly, honey." You kiss the corner of his lips again before backing away and nodding over to your desk chair.

"Go sit down there." Coryo takes a moment to listen, his eyes a little wide at your words and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, his shoulders slumping into submission, but he holds his head high again, getting up from the bed.

"Oh, and take all your clothes off?" You smile sweetly at him, it almost sickens him.

You help Sej undress after he brings the ties out for you and you lean to whisper in his ear, "Can you tie Coryo's hands tight behind his back for me? Behind the chair,." Sej follows your instructions and while Coryo scoffs, he lets him do it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ignore him, sitting on the edge of your bed and undressing yourself.

Full-heartedly, Coryo thinks you're gonna be down on your knees for him any minute now. Almost every time he's in your desk chair, you're sitting between his legs on the floor with his cock down your throat, so his mind naturally wanders to that being your course of action.

Sej on the other hand has been at the mercy of your punishments before and he has a faint idea of what you plan to do to the blonde boy now tied to your chair.

"Sej, come here," you say, your voice soft and it's throwing Coryo for a loop. "You know he broke your rules too?"

"I know, honey, but I also know that you're the reason he gave in. So just sit there and look pretty, okay?" You give him another one of your sweet smiles and Coryo takes a deep breath, already starting to squirm against his restraints. You tug Sej onto the bed with you, pushing his head down before he can kiss your lips.

"No, baby. You gotta earn that back." Sej nods obediently, trailing kisses down your chest to your tummy. You lay back where Coryo once was, Sej parting your legs and looking up at you, "will this let me earn it back?"

"Mmm, yes. Good boy." He lets out a shuddered breath and kisses your inner thigh. Once. Then twice, nipping at the skin and urging your thighs to spread more. Sej repeats the same kisses to your other thigh, biting a little more against the skin and you tangle your fingers into his curls, pushing his head closer to your core.

"Enough of that," you grunt, Sej's hands rubbing from your knees up to your thighs and gripping them tightly as he presses his nose to your clit, as if he's savoring, taking in your scent. You let him hold your thighs apart, the feeling of his warm hands against your skin was too alluring, too perfect.

You told yourself you wouldn't even spare a glance at Coryo, but you do. His gaze is laser-focused on the two of you and you smirk as you see his hardened cock resting up against his tummy, his teeth seemingly biting into the skin of his inner cheek.

"Do you..." you trail off in a moan as Sej's tongue plunges into you, licking into you like you're his last meal. "Do you have something to say, Coryo?"

"I-I want to touch you," he says and you chuckle, tilting your head back with a groan as Sej presses his nose to your clit harder, your hips bucking up to grind into his face. "I don't care what you want, honey," you breathe out through little gasps, Sej's tongue fucking into you with a skill that he's only improved on every single time.

You hear Coryo hold back a whine, your cute little nickname for him sounding so filthy on your tongue as his own head tips backward in frustration. He tries to see if he can get out of the ties, but he can't. No tug or pull or twist even lets up the tightness a little bit.

"Sej, baby, you're doing so good for me, f-fuck." Sej moans against you and as his eyes meet yours, you feel yourself come undone on his tongue, his hands holding your hips down so he can lap up all of your release without you squirming too much.

When Sej moves his mouth away from you, you're tugging him up and kissing him. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling his body flush against yours, cock resting, aching against you.

Coryo audibly groans, his hips squirming at the sight and he wants to lash out at you so bad. He feels it on the tip of his tongue, something mean, something so angry that he isn't even sure what you or Sej would do, but he can't say it. All he can do is watch, mouth parted as you guide Sej's dick into you, coaxing the man on top of you to bury his head into your neck, just like Coryo had done earlier.

"That's it, baby," you purr into Sej's ear as his hips slowly begin to roll into yours, the thickness of his cock inside of you starting to turn your brain into pure mush, but you regain your focus, massaging the back of his head as he groans into your neck.

"You're doing so well for me, so perfect, you just needed my cunt didn't you?" Sej whines, nodding and you feel his teeth sink into your shoulder.

"P-please," Coryo gasps out. You hear him, but don't reply, kissing the spot beneath Sej's ear and pushing his hips into you deeper with your legs.

Sej is losing his goddamn mind just as much as Coryo is, despite him being the one that gets to feel you, warm, wet, and snug against him. He wants to move faster, but his hips move easily, languidly as if he's trying to get to know every part of you all over again. He also knows you're loving leaving Coryo ignored. He can tell by the way your lips quirk against him when Coryo lets out yet another whine.

His whines feel purposeful like he's trying to make them sound as sad and needy as he can, but there is a shift that tells Sej they're becoming real. Sej longs to see how Coryo looks all tied up right now, but he forgets about that when you bite on his ear, "I know you wanna fuck me harder, baby. You earned it."

He lets out a shaky breath, keeping his head down, too afraid if he looked at your face, he'd bust on the spot. He ruts into you with more force, starting to set a frantic pace that he doesn't let up.

His pent-up desires unfold completely as he fucks into you, your legs holding him so tight, so deep.

"B-baby, please," Coryo begs a little louder, his own hips bucking up into absolutely nothing. He rarely called you that, so you spare him a look.

His cock, drippy and the tip so red makes you want to give in, but you can't. He has to learn. "Coryo, h-honey, please what?" It's hard to talk to him as Sej pounds into you, but you make do, making sure to tug at Sej's curls when he starts hitting the right spot.

"I n-need to cum so bad, please," he whimpers, his hips still moving on their own accord. That's when you see the shine of a few tears on his cheek. "Are you crying?"

He whimpers again and nods his head, closing his eyes. You laugh. A full-on laugh and Sej smiles into your neck. "Oh, my poor, honey. You can't cum."

Coryo starts to plead with you, "N-No no...I need to cum, baby, please...I need it so bad, you don't understand..."

But you shush him, "Be quiet, Sej's gonna make me cum."

You feel Sej groan, as his pace begins to falter and you feel his arms push under you, holding you so close to his body as he spills himself inside of you. You squeeze around him as your own release washes over you, your moans higher than before and you pull on his hair. Sej keeps thrusting into you as you both ride out your orgasms he leaves wet open-mouthed kisses from your shoulder, up your neck to your cheek.

He gives you a lazy smile when your eyes meet and you return it, ruffling his hair. You're lost in a daze with your lover until you hear a choked-out sob from the other end of the room.

Sej pulls away from you, his cock slipping out of you and you're met with the sight of Coryo.

His chest is heaving, his forehead sweaty and his cheeks wet as his eyes glow bluer from the tears still pricking at them.

His tummy is coated in his release, some of it still dripping down his cock and onto his balls. His dick is hardening again as soon as you make eye contact with him, crawling to the edge of the bed and standing up and Sej's release starts to drip down your thigh.

Coryo sniffs, looking up at you as you stand in front of him, "please," he whispers, his lip quivering. You run your hand through his sweaty curls and he moans at the touch alone. "I told you that you couldn't cum, honey."

"I-I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop it, I tried so h-hard. Please, believe me, I tried so hard," he rushes out his words, as a tear falls from his eye.

You look down at the cum pooling on his tummy and your chair, then look back into his eyes, "you look so pathetic, honey."

Coryo's jaw clenches and he holds in whatever noise he is about to make. "Actually, you don't look pathetic, you are pathetic." His cock throbs against him at your words and Sej chuckles from his spot on the bed.

Coryo sends him a glare and you quickly kneel onto the chair, your knees on either side of his thighs and you hold yourself above his lap.

"Don't look at my baby that way, he took his punishment." This time Coryo does let himself scoff and roll his eyes, "What punishment? Not being able to k-kiss you? How is this fair?"

His tone comes off harsh but the way he sniffles after it and the way another tear falls from his eyes has you smirking. "You needed to learn, honey. And I'm not done with you." His eyes close at that, his brow creasing, trying to think of what else you could possibly do to him.

You ghost your fingers on his cock before holding it and Coryo's hips buck up. You let him, his tip, leaking already, just shy of prodding at your entrance. "If you want to fuck me, you gotta do it yourself," you taunt, biting on your bottom lip as you lower down just a little so he can easily fuck up into you.

He stares wide-eyed and sees Sej shaking his head in amusement. You cock your head to the side, "well? Are you gonna do it, honey? It's what you wanted, right?"

Coryo whimpers, still sniffly, and nods, pushing his hips up, his cock sliding into you with ease. He's so loud, letting out strained whines and sobs, his cock so fucking sensitive and needing to release again.

He applauds your own self-control as you stay still for him, moaning when he's able fuck up deep into you. But Coryo didn't take into consideration how tiring this would be. With his hands still tied, his leg and hip muscles began to strain, already exhausted from his first orgasm. "My pretty boy, maybe if you hadn't finished before, I'd help you," you coo at him, your hands so close to touching him, but you keep them on the chair.

You don't give in at all and Coryo lets out a frustrated groan, his bottom lip between his teeth as he desperately tries to thrust his dick up into you but he can't find a decent rhythm.

"y-you're so fucking mean," he sobs, and you almost take pity on the way he's starting to cry more.

You ignore his words though, watching him with admiration as he tries to fuck you. Even though the stimulation is weak, you do eventually feel his cock twitch, and his tummy tightens, but before he can even release you lift your hips up.

"f-fuck! B-baby?" His cries were tempting still, but you were determined. You kiss his cheek, the salty taste of his tears on your lips, then move your mouth to his ear.

"If I find out you've made yourself cum over the next four days, I will do this again, maybe even meaner. I won't even let you be in the same room as me and Sej when he fucks me better than you probably can. And you and your pathetic cock can be alone and untouched for even longer. Do you understand me, honey?" You tangle your fingers in his hair and turn his head to look at you.

His eyes are glazed over, lips parted and he nods, "y-yes." You could almost feel Sej's proud look at how well you've taken control.

"good boy," you whisper and give him a gentle kiss on the lips, realizing just how much you missed kissing Coryo.

let's chat about coryo, sej, or both, here :)

[melinoe-dearest09]

Helooo there, i would like to request a batfam x batsis fic in which she is the most recent addition to the family, and all of them are trying really hard to get her to warm up to them( having a game nights, going shopping, going to the arcade ex...) on one of these outings, they are stormed by the paparazzi, which in turn overwhelms her, and she gets a panic attack, then cue the protective big brothers who help her through it.

That's as far as I've thought on this. I hope it makes sense to you. ( You can change some of the details if you'd like) Have a nice day / night.

Of course! I didn't know how old you wanted her but I made her younger than Damian. (Damian is 14 here) Thanks for the request <3

The brothers always tried when they got a new sibling. They knew how hard it was to adjust to the Wayne style of life. But usually it didn't take very long. You were a special case.

Your bio parents were part of the nobility of Gotham. They went to all the parties and did all the rich people things. You didn't. In fact no one knew who you were until your parents died. They kept you locked up in your room and never really let you out of the house.

When your parents died (car crash) police went to the house to inform the staff. Instead they were met with a young girl who looked very malnourished and abused. The police took all normal steps after that. Taking you to the hospital and then trying to put you into foster care. Of course the news found out and plastered it everywhere. "Tragic death of the L/N result in finding of secret Daughter". Of course the news station was missing some of the important information like you wellbeing but this was enough to catch Bruce's eye. After he found out how you where treated though? The adoption papers where already signed. You were now a Wayne.

As of now you had been at the Manor for a month. The boys were trying really hard to get you to warm up to them. Dick had taken you shopping multiple times, Tim tried helping you with your school work (especially since you hadn't ever gone to school), and Jason took you to the Arcade. Even Damian was trying! He would try to get you to paint with him or go out with him and Jon. But you weren't responding to any of them. You mostly stayed in your room or stuck around Alfred. Heck you hadn't even said a word to them. They were starting to get desperate.

"Damian" Bruce called. "Can you got get Y/n from her room. Dick is taking all of you shopping for the upcoming gala."

Damian rolled his eyes at the mention of the gala but complied "Yes father."

When you were all ready you headed out. Dick thought it would be a good idea to shop for the gala then go catch lunch or see a movie.

"I'm not even gonna show up to this stupid thing anyway. So the hell do I have to be here?" Jason complained.

"We hare having sibling bonding time. And this is going to be Y/n's first gala! So we all have to make sure she looks super pretty! Like a little princess!" Dick said happily.

At the mention, Jason looked over to you nervously "You sure it's a good idea for the kid to go to a gala? She hasn't even talked to us. How's she gonna talk to other people?" He asked. He looked back over to were you stood. Tim was on one side trying to talk to you while Damian stood on the other looking at suits. You were just staring at Tim and occasionally nodding. "See. She's not even talkin to Tim and he spends the most time with her. Not to mention the brat is closer in age to her and she hasn't said a word to him either." Jason pointed out.

Dick decided to ignore this "What about this Suit."

"Too Flashy disco Dave. But seriously-"

"Jason she be fiiine." Dick says quickly. Jason didn't believe thus for one second but he was tired of arguing with Dick. So he let it rest.

Later after they had all found a suitable outfit you all went to grab lunch. "Y/n is there any place you want to go to?" Tim asks. You shrug. All the boys sigh hoping you would answer.

"Brothers. We might have a slight problem." Damian says. They look to where he is pointing and all think the same thing. 'Shit'. Paparazzi start to flood them from all sides. They all start yelling questions and taking pictures. They boys try and move around you so you aren't seen but it's to late. Suddenly you are pulled from the boys and the crowd closes in on you. The question become louder the, flashes from cameras brighter, and you stand there in the middle helpless. You've never experienced this before and very fast it becomes too much. You feel you chest become tighter and your breathing become faster but it feels like you aren't getting any air in your lungs.

They boys are frantically trying to get through the crowd but they are also getting bombarded with questions. Finally Damian breaks through to you and sees you staring at the ground clutching your chest. "Y/n..." he slowly approaches you lowering his voice. You look up at him tears filling your eyes as you gasp for air. "Hey hey hey it's okay don't worry I'm here. The others are coming...it's okay." He turns to look for the others and sees Jason break through the crowd. He takes one look at you and starts trying to clear a path. The others see this and try to help. Damian scoops you up and starts to carry you through this makeshift path. Then quickly runs for the nearest store. He sets you down then starts to calm you down.

"Hey Y/n look at me...follow my breathing okay...in....and out...in....and out" Damian says calmly. You listen to what he says and start to calm down. The other boys come in and stand around making sure no one can see you. When you start to breath normally again Jason asks "You feelin better kid?" You look up at him "Y-yeah..." They look shocked for a second then smile. "That's good little sis." Jason responds. Tim moves to your other side. "How about we go home? Alfred can make us some food? That okay?" You nod "Can he make mac n cheese?"

"Yeah sis. You can have mac n cheese."

[heartofjasmina]

A thought just crossed my mind

The Iida brothers (or just one of them) finding out that their sweet little sister is a slut, who's willing to spread her legs for anyone gives her any attention

Or that she works at a glory hole

This-

Tenya Iida had no idea what he was doing here. One of his sidekicks had told him that he needed to 'unwind' and brought him to a dingy sex shop that had.. places in the back where you could get off. It made him feel dirty but it had been far too long since he got off with someone else involved. So he followed his sidekick deeper into the store, all the way to the back where a gloryhole had been installed.

"Have fun doll, brought a real hero for you. And you love heros don't you?" His sidekick called and though Tenya wanted to hit him, his gut twisted when he heard a sweet, familiar voice answer.

"I do. I love heroes. Lots and lots." You almost moaned the words. He should not be getting hard over this.

His sidekick closed the door behind him after giving Tenya a clap on the shoulder and whispering loudly "she's got a hungry lil mouth, and you've more than earned a relaxing break."

It was easy to find the hidden latch that kept you 'protected' in your little cubby. And sure enough, when he damn near ripped it off the hinges, there you were. Fingering your needy pussy and mouth wide open waiting for more dick, and unavoidably his little sister. If he wasn't mistaken you were even wearing one of his shirts.

"T-Ten!" You flushed horribly as your big brother saw you in your debauched state. But all he could think about was the fact that he could still see your tiny fingers buried knuckle deep in your wetness.

"Get up." He barely recognized his own voice, rough and gravelly as it was.

"But--"

"You really don't want push it right now." He took a step forward and grabbed you by the hair, visciously ignoring the way his dick twitch in his pants when he realized that on your knees like that it would be all to easy to fuck your throat.

"Ten, I swear I was just-" Your voice was pitiful, trembling, but still hoarse. Probably from all the dick you'd had down your throat.

"Being a fucking slut. That's what you were doing." It was like fire had taken over his blood, and all filters between his brain and his mouth had been lifted. "If I have to give it to you myself to keep you from offering up your mouth like a two dollar whore, then I will."

"Just wanted you, not them!" You swore, and yeah, Tenya can admit that's what caused him to snap.

"Oh, so instead of admitting you wanted to fuck me like a big girl, you decided to let any hero off the street use you?" He snarled as he dragged your face forward, rutting against your face without remorse.

"I'm sorry, Ten." It was genuine, and you weren't revolted by his crudeness. Hell you were mouthing him through his jeans- looking up at him so needily it made his head spin. "Let me make it up to you." Every kiss to his clothed cock caused him leak pre into his boxers, a dark wet patch forming as his tip grew sticky.

"Take my cock out." He should be worried by how calmly he gave the order. Should've been pissed by how easy and practiced you were as you unbuckled his belt and freed his cock. But all he wanted was to punish you for making him feel this way, wreck you until you were just as fucked up as he was about this.

He had to tighten his grip on your hair when you went to suck him. You fucking whimpered at being denied his cock, like it physically hurt you not to have his heavy girth in your mouth.

"I know you're a cockslut, but you're gonna have to learn some fucking manners if you want my cock sis." And there it was, that tremble in your lower lip and tears gathering in your eyes. The look that always made him ashamed and aroused in equal measure when he was just a bit too mean to you growing up.

"Please can I have your cock, Ten?" He wondered if he should let you start crying for real first, but then reasoned you could cry on his cock later anyway.

"So sweet when you want to be, too bad I don't buy it. Not after finding you here." He sneered down at you as he released your hair. "But a deals a deal. Make me cum and maybe I'll think about fucking you."

You were off like a shot, opening your mouth wide and swallowing him down inch by inch until your nose was in his pubes. He wasn't sure who moaned louder as you started to bob your head. It was a slow, wet, nasty yet utterly loving blow job that Tenya knew would ruin him for any other girl after you.

"You shouldn't be this good, fuck-" Ten had to resist the urge to skullfuck your perfect little mouth. You hadn't earned any effort on his part yet, but it was heaven and hell giving you free reign. "How many dicks did you have to suck to get this fucking perfect?" He was babbling to himself, lost in the pleasure of your hot wet tongue and throat.

Then he felt your tongue on his balls, little kitten licks every time you deep throated him, threatening what little sanity he had left.

"They're so full they ache sis, all for you. Feel 'em." Your fingers were sticky when they cupped his balls reverently, and his cock throbbed in your mouth when he remembered why. His gut tightened and he knew he wasn't going to last any longer.

"Gonna cum, y/n-" He didn't know why he bothered to warn you, you swallowed him to the root and looked him in the eyes- silently pleading for his load.

His balls drew up as he unloaded down your throat, and you moaned like it was the most delicious treat in the world. Your eyes grew unfocused as you struggled to keep up with every thick spurt of seed. Tenya swore he had never came so hard in his life.

The problem became evident when you wouldn't let his dick go.

"Hey-"

You ignored him, your tongue massaging the vein on the underside of his shaft before you pulled back and started making out with his tip. Tonguing his slit for every last drop- completely lost in your worship of him.

So he had to grab your hair again to haul you off growling, "Enough."

You pouted at him, every bit the spoiled baby of the family. "More, Ten. Please?"

He scoffed, tucking himself away and throwing his jacket at you- already a plan forming in his mind on how exactly he was supposed to handle you and your insatiable mouth.

"Get dressed. Lets see what Tensei has to say."

[rainydayathogwarts]

need dom ron to overstim reader please🙏love ur work🤍

I'm genuinely so sorry it's taken me this long to answer this request but i took freedom with it because I felt like writing for him! enjoy :)

A harsh spank on your ass had you crying out in the dark, empty dorm. "Who told you that you were allowed to stop?" Ron's hands tightly gripped your hips as you slowly rose off his laps, your thighs shaking as you dropped back down his dick, whining loudly. Ron tried swallowing his groan, a shaky breath escaping instead as he chuckled, shaking his head at you, his bright hair sticking to his forehead. He watched you drag yourself on his cock, desperate for your own release, frustrated tears picking at the corner of your eyes. "Ron please, please" You begged, your head dug into the crook of his neck.

"God you're so desperate. Already've come twice and you still want more" He mocked, securing the hold he had on your hips before he planted his feet on the bed and started harshly bucking his hips up into yours. You moaned loudly, hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. Your pussy clenched at the sudden friction and Ron moaned, his head thrown back against his pillow as he helped you bounce up and down his girthy cock.

One of his hands came up to your tits, groping at them and pinching your nipples, listening to your moans get higher in pitch. You were close. The other hand came down to teasingly play with your abused clit, and you held onto your boyfriend's shoulders for dear life, feeling his eyes on you like a hunter would eye his prey. "Look at me" He growled. "Have to see your face when you come or else I won't let you cum at all." He panted. Your gaze found his and Ron audibly moaned at the look of pleasure you had plastered on your face. His voice was like a trigger and your mouth fell open as you moaned loudly, your cunt clenching around your boyfriend's dick tightly, triggering his orgasm too.

He flipped you over without struggle, fucking you into your orgasm so you could ride it out. Your hands immediately made their way back to his back, and you were sure there would be scratch marks left there in their wake. "No more- Ron- can't" You cried out, pushing at your boyfriends chest while he slowed his thrusts down. He pulled out of you with a groan, immediately started to leave kisses down your body to make up for the manhandling he had done. It was only when the kisses continued down your stomach and to your hips that you gasped, saying "Ron don-" "I'm just gonna clean you up babe, okay?" But the way he threw a forearm over your hips to keep you still told you otherwise.

He started by pressing kisses on either side of your thighs before immediately licking a bold stripe up your pussy, tasting both of your juices combined. You both moaned in unison, and tried to close your legs around Ron's head. He continued licking up your cunt, his tongue dipping into your entrance before he started harshly sucking on your swollen clit. That had your hands flying into his wild hair, tugging at it harshly while you started crying out your boyfriend's name again. "Ron!" His fingers took his mouth's place on your clit and he rubbed aggressively at it, while the softness of his words completely contrasted his movements, "Last one baby I promise. You're doing so good f'me." And as soon as he finished his sentence, his mouth was back on you, running his tongue over your clit. Your hips bucked up into his face, the movement controlled by his arm holding you down and your thighs started shaking all over again, and you orgasmed again, drenching Ron's face.

You panted loudly, grip loosening in Ron's hair and you whimper softly, watching as he licks his lips, then crawls up the bed to press his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, letting himself put most of his weight on you. He peppered a few soft kisses onto your skin then pulled away from you to sit up on the bed beside you. He looks down at you with a loving look on his face, which turns to concern when you don't say anything. "Baby? I wasn't too harsh on you was I?" You finally look up at Ron and grin, shaking your head at him. "No, but you're going to have to carry me around tomorrow because I sure as hell won't be able to walk.

[hees-mine]

My neighbor- L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cum eating, cursing, dirty talk, alcohol, oral, age gap and the gap is gapping so if that makes you uncomfortable please do not read.

WC: 4,247k

-

You sighed for the thousand time while you sat on the couch watching whatever boring show that was on the tv.

You much rather be out having fun, partying, and enjoying yourself, maybe even getting fucked.

But no.

Instead, you’ve sat two cushions away from your neighbor while he “kept an eye on you.”

It was ridiculous you were old enough not to need someone checking in on you, but your parents insisted that it’d make them comfortable knowing a trusted adult was watching over you while they went on a romantic getaway.

You looked over at him with a glare while he laughed at something on the screen that you weren’t paying attention to. You eyed him from head to toe, and there was a look of disgust on your face. If it wasn’t for him, you could be out having the time of your life, but you calmed yourself down, reminding yourself it wasn’t heeseung’s fault. After all, he was a good friend of your parents. After moving into the lot next to yours a few years ago, he hit it off with your parents right away and soon became a staple in your household, coming over on weekends for dinner and family game night.

He was nice, and you enjoyed his company, don’t get it wrong, but right now, you didn’t, especially when you tried to sneak up to your room with hopes that he wouldn’t notice. Maybe you could escape out your window and enjoy your night after all, but alas. “Ah ah ah, sit down, missy.”

You sighed again, plopping down on the couch after he caught you.

A smile tugged at heeseung’s lips. He’s a bit too old to be fooled by your tricks. He’d been in your shoes before, so there was no way anything you did would get by him tonight.

“Come on, don’t be like that. It’s only one week,” he says as if that wasn’t like a thousand days to a teenager. “Are you hungry? I’m not much of a cook, but I could make some tomato soup, or we could order out whatever sounds good to you.”

You appreciate his offer, you really do, and you should happily accept, seeing how he’s taking time out of his week to make sure you’re safe fed and taken care of, but that itch of defiance and frustration overpower you, and you find yourself declining.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” You slouch down in your seat, folding your arms over your chest and getting a pouty look on your face.

Such a crybaby, heeseung thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud, knowing you’d hate it if he called you that.

“Well, I’m starving, so I’m gonna order a pizza,” he announced and pulled out his phone, ordering everything he liked.

It only takes twenty minutes for it to arrive again. You attempted to run off, but sadly, the transaction between heeseung and the pizza delivery guy was too short for you to make your great escape.

You don’t know how long it’s been now, but long enough to get you even more agitated because you could be at the party you were invited to. It’s been started for an hour or more, but instead, here you are, stuck with your neighbor while he sits across from you, dining on his pizza like it’s a delicacy.

“Can I please go out, heeseung? I promise I won’t tell if you let me,” You give in, pleading with him to let you go out.

“No can do it. It’s my duty to make sure you stay here. Besides, your parents trust me, and I wouldn’t want to break it,” he says strictly.

You throw your head back exaggeratedly, and he can’t help but laugh, making your head snap back to look at him with eyes that could kill.

“What’s so great out there anyway?” he asks, taking a sip from his pop.

“Music friends drinks,” you list out all the things you’re missing out on. “Dick,” you mutter, but he hears you anyway, nearly spitting out his drink.

“You drink?!” He asks wide-eyed because you’re underage, and that’s why he’s so shocked.

“Duh, get with the times, old man.” You roll your eyes at him.

“I’ll have you know I’m only thirty-eight,” he replied, unamused by you.

“Yeah, old.”

“I’m gonna ignore that comment since you’re an emotional teenager figuring yourself out.” This time, you look at him unamused by what he said. “What? Fair play.” he shrugged, both of you, knowing there was no real harm meant by your exchange. “Anyway, I’m still not understanding your problem because everything you want is right here,” he says nonchalantly.

You looked at him weirdly, wondering what he meant by that.

Noticing your confusion, he elaborated.

“There’s booze in the cabinet. I can play some music. We’re friends, I think? And well,” he sets his food aside, spreading his legs on the sofa and facing you. “I have a dick,” he says casually.

He couldn’t help the slight smile that graced his features by your shocked reaction. He didn’t know why you were so surprised. He supposed his idea was a bit outlandish, but it kills two birds with one stone. He’ll know for a fact. You’re safe, and you can have your little party at home with him.

“Heeseung, stop joking.” Laughing nervously, your eyes shifted away from him, unable to comprehend what he said. You understood it perfectly fine, but you couldn’t quite grasp that he was actually being serious.

“I’m not. besides, this solves our problem. I know that you’re safe with me, and you can get everything you want.”

Okay, as good as that sounded, you have to decline. That would be stepping over boundaries you could never uncross.

Besides, it's heeseung you couldn’t. He was too near and dear to your parents. You couldn’t risk it and muddy up their relationship by fucking your neighbor. You don’t know how they’d feel if they ever found out something like that. “Heeseung, we shouldn’t my parents trust you.”

“Oh, so now you understand my point of view,” he laughs. “But it’s alright.” he places his hand on your thigh, scooting closer to you. “I’m sure you can keep a secret, isn’t that right, little alcoholic?” he teases you about your drinking habits, giving your thigh a light pinch.

“Stop it,” you giggled, pushing at his shoulder playfully.

“It’s up to you, Angel.” You nearly lose it at the nickname, his voice going straight to your core.

Since when were you attracted to your neighbor?

“What if I say yes?” You ask, your hand placed on his chest and trailing down to his stomach.

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.” he leans in his hot breath, fanning your face. “So what’s it gonna be?”

“Yes,” you whisper, lips brushing across his from the proximity.

-

Read full story on my Patreon

[alittlesongbirdchirps]

JUST ONE MORE TEAR TO CRY AU

(I saw a new lantern core and was, like yes sorrow sounds like Tim lol.)   Tim Drake becomes a lantern, not just any lantern, a sorrow lantern. To save Bruce, he sacrificed everything, and he lost Robin. He knew deep down this would be his last mission as a red robin, as a robin, maybe even a bat. The league didn’t believe him. He tried to hand the USB with everything they pushed it away, saying he needed help.   “No please.” He begged, but they only gave him pity, and he couldn’t do this without them. He doesn’t have the power, nor does he have the resources. He leaves more like escapes, and now he is sitting in an old abandoned warehouse not knowing what to do everything he did seemed pointless, hopeless he couldn’t do his job and save Batman, save Bruce and he lost Superboy, impulse he couldn’t even say their names, everything was taken from him everything he worked hard for and this USB with everything to prove Bruce is alive and how to rescue him wasn’t even looked at.   His tears fall soundlessly as he grapples with frustration and a deepening sorrow over at the thought of how close he was to saving Bruce, only to be startled by his father’s ring he kept on him to remind him of his failure to save his father, which begins to steam. The steam begins to expand filling up the room and when it dissipates, his father's ring is now on his finger, transformed into a grey colour, he stares down in confusion but something else is also all he can feel is deep sorrow not only that his outfit has changed its completely grey and when he reaches for his face; it feels as if covered. It doesn’t take him long to figure out he must be in some type of lantern situation, but he’s never seen a lantern ring like this and he’s pretty certain rings come to their holders, not made by them. Silent tears stream down his face underneath the bandana, as he stares at the USB all he can think of is everything that’s ever made him sad it’s so painful, he’s clutching his chest but he can’t give up he has to get it to the only person who will actually look at it and make sure the league looks at it too. So he flies, he flies into the air. It should be so thrilling, but it’s not. He has the USB in hand and makes his way to the warehouse. He knows he will be in. Unfortunately, he’s not here at the. Moment that’s okay, he floats down and places it on the desk before hearing the cocking of a gun and a familiar voice yell at him. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my warehouse?”   Tim turns around slowly. It takes a moment for Jason to realise who it is standing in front of him. “Tim?” He asks in disbelief, in doubt. He tries to go towards him, but before he can, Tim just floats up and away. He can hear Jason call his name sounding panicked.   (After Jason reviews the USB, makes the league look at it, and makes sure to retrieve the tape from when Tim was in the warehouse before showing Dick who is currently Batman as well as Alfred, bringing up his concerns to the pair. It temp put on the back burner when Bruce is back not wanting to worry the man. Oh also, in this AU Tim’s gonna be the first sorrow lantern. Oh and I promise Im gonna start writing fics instead of just little drabbles of AU lol so questions for any AU or ideas send them my way.)   ALSO NOT EDITED AGAIN.

[daydreamerwonderkid]

I see your vampire!Bruce Wayne AU and I raise you this:

Normal human Bruce Wayne raising his horde of vampire/dhamphir children, but because Bruce is Bruce no suspects any of the Batkids are, well ... bat kids.

Even the Batkids are confused at first when they first meet Bruce. Batman shows up and they're like:

"Oh, shit it's Batman! The very scary, very territorial Vampire Lord who's completely taken over Gotham and has managed to strike fear into the heart of all the most notorious vampire leaders! And he wants to adopt me into his coven? Sounds sketchy, but aight."

Only for them to wake up the next day and realize that not only is Batman in fact NOT a vampire, but he's also the most pitiful and pathetic human they've ever laid their eyes on and there's no fucking way they can leave him now.

Humans are already super fragile and easy to kill as is. And their new guardian is risking his life every night masquerading as an all powerful Vampire Lord!!!!

It's honestly a miracle that Bruce hasn't been killed yet and there's no way they're going to let their clueless human guardian wander off by himself. Especially after they realize he keeps forgetting that humans aren't supposed to be awake for 72 hours straight and his skin is paler than the giant hoards of case file documents he tries to sift through while barely touching his own food.

This poor idiot human is so committed to pretending to be a vampire that he's actually convinced himself he has night vision and spends more time hanging out in a literal Batcave than he does in his own fucking house!

Meanwhile, Bruce is thoroughly convinced he's got a complete handle on the whole raising vampire/dhampir children thing. After all, it's not like he's had to change much about his own personal life to that of a parent taking care of a horde of supernatural children.

He already spends more time awake at night anyway and while the kids don't mind human food absolutely love Alfred's cooking, it's not difficult to get a hold of any blood when they actually need to feed on something more substantial. Considering he's the biggest contributor to Gotham's blood donation centers, it's not like anyone's gonna tell him no.

Bruce also read somewhere that while vampires in the modern age don't actually need to hunt humans to feed anymore (considering the above mentioned donation centers), their hunting instincts haven't gone away, either. So while he was initially against the idea of letting his kids getting involved in his vigilante lifestyle, it was probably a good thing in the end that they had an alternative outlet for their growing vampiric urges. Like Alfred, he would have preferred it if they had gotten into competitive sports or something similar instead, but all his children had proven themselves to be just as stubborn as he is so he made do with what he could.

Especially considering the fact that a parenting article he read mentioned how extremely sensitive young vampires/dhampirs are towards the well-being of those who make up their coven. Dick, ALONE, had proved how absolutely futile his attempts to separate his night time and day time activities truly were. Apparently, it was detrimental to young vampires to be separated from their parents/guardians for too long. Better he trained them and supervised them himself versus having to re-experience Dick, Tim and Cass stalking him like the supernatural predators they were while doing his nightly patrols.

And if any of his children leaned a bit more into their feral nature whenever Bruce happened to get hurt on patrol, that was just kids' instincts reacting to the head of their coven being threatened. It's taken years of training, grounding and long late night discussions to convince his children to try holding back their supernatural strength and bloody acts of retribution. He still finds himself lecturing them from time to time even if he's fully aware they're all humoring him.

He still has the small collection of baby fangs that Dick had somehow roped all his younger siblings into contributing to over the years. For the life of him, he can't begin to fathom why anyone would want to collect teeth or why his children are so adamant that he holds onto theirs. But ever since he jokingly mentioned the Tooth Fairy to a horrified and offended younger Dick when his first set of baby fangs finally started coming in, it seems his children are determined to make sure no one can even attempt to think about exchanging their fangs for mere quarters.

And for the record (and despite what his children and friends keep on insisting), he never set out to actually pretend to be a "Vampire Lord." He just honestly thought designing his costume around one of his deepest fears would be a good way for him to use that fear against the criminals of Gotham.

He also won't admit that he completely forgot about the obvious association people make between bats and vampires.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Keepsafes

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Martha and Thomas survive, and they adopt the batkids.

Chapters: 12/?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne

Chapter Twelve: Dent

Two weeks before the end of summer vacation, Martha went to the airport to pick Bruce up. Martha almost didn’t recognize him because he’d grown so much. Bruce was so excited to see her that he dropped his suitcase and ran to her at full speed. “Mom!” Bruce exclaimed. He lifted her off the ground and spun her around. He started crying as he held her. “I missed you so much.” 

“Oh, lovey, I missed you too,” Martha replied as he set her down. She was a little taken aback at how emotional Bruce was. He didn’t expect to react that way when he saw her, but being apart from his mother always made him emotional. “Bruce, it’s okay. I’ve got you now.” 

Bruce wiped his face as he pulled himself together. “Can we get something to eat? I didn’t eat on the plane,” Bruce whispered. Martha nodded and held his face in her hands before heading to the car. Bruce fell asleep right after he buckled in, and Martha moved his hair out of his face. 

She didn’t wake him until they got to the drive-thru. “Lovey… Lovey, what flavor of milkshake do you want with your burger?” Martha whispered. 

“Vanilla,” Bruce mumbled. Martha nudged him. 

“Brucie, wake up… You’ve got to eat something,” Martha whispered. Bruce nodded and pushed his hair back as he opened his eyes. 

“I didn’t have time to really get a haircut while I was there,” Bruce explained, “So, you can tell me what you really think about it.”

“Huh? Oh, Brucie, you look fine,” Martha replied with a higher pitch. 

“I’m gonna cut it, Mom,” Bruce replied. 

“How short?” Martha asked.

“As short as you want it,” Bruce replied.

“I never said I didn’t like it at this length… What are you going to do to your hair?” Martha questioned. 

“Maybe something short and spiky,” Bruce answered. Martha ordered and pulled up to the window. “You know… How some of the guys are wearing it.”

Martha smiled at him. “Please don’t do that. I like the long hair on you. It’s shoulder length, and it’s pretty. It makes you look like a poet or a rockstar. No harm in being a little pretty. It is the nineties after all,” Martha replied as she pinched his cheek. “Harvey’s got the Leo. So, I think it’ll be nice seeing the two of you stand next to each other in your sophomore-year uniforms… I wanted to get a haircut like that cute brunette in the movie that came out last year. You know, that pretty girl that you and Harvey like?” 

Bruce shrank down in his seat. “Mommm,” Bruce whined as he hid his face. Martha chuckled. 

**

Bruce and Harvey holed up in Bruce’s room after dinner to catch up. “I went home a few weeks ago to see my dad. He said he almost didn’t recognize me. He said he—.”

“Harvey, please don’t go. Don’t leave. You can’t trust him,” Bruce whispered. Harvey stood by Bruce’s bed instead of sitting down. Bruce had seen it before. Harvey loved his father, and he’d gone home before. Things were always good. Mr. Dent would shower Harvey with affection, promise him that things would be different, and then Harvey would return in tears, covered in bruises, and tell Bruce he’d never return. Bruce’s parents knew that Harvey was abused, but they didn’t know the nature of the abuse. Only Bruce knew about the beatings, otherwise, Harvey would never have gotten to go home. 

“He said he was proud of me, Bruce… And he—. He said he was sober. He hadn’t had a drink in—.”

“Harv, what do you want me to say?” Bruce whispered with tears in his eyes. 

Harvey rubbed his forearm. “It’s not normal for us to be so close. Regular best friends don’t sleep in bed together like that. Not guys—.”

“Who said that? Because I bet you they don’t know you like I do. I bet they weren’t there when you were waking up in the middle of the night screaming. I bet they weren’t sneaking down the dumbwaiter at two o’clock in the morning helping you wash your sheets because you were too scared to make noise on the way to the bathroom. Was it weird when I used to stay up crying with you because you were hurting all night?” Bruce whispered. 

Harvey turned away from Bruce. “He’s my dad. Not every father is as perfect as Mr. Wayne or Alfred. Bruce, I want you to try to be supportive. Why would you make me stay?” Harvey asked. 

Bruce’s answer caught in his throat. It was like the question made him realize something about himself, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that information. “When are you going home?” Bruce asked instead of saying what he wanted to say. 

“Tomorrow,” Harvey whispered. 

“Okay… You can come back whenever you want, you know? I won’t say anything. I won’t ask questions… And I’m gonna miss you waking me up at the last second every morning,” Bruce replied, “I guess you’ll be sleeping in your room tonight…”

“I could be weird for one more night, I guess,” Harvey mumbled as he kicked at the air. Bruce smiled faintly as he wiped a few tears away. 

**

On the first day of school, Bruce met Harvey in their usual spot, and a girl pulled him to the side. She ran her hand down his arm. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Annalise Talbot,” she smiled. 

“We have met. Bruce Wayne,” Bruce answered as he removed her hand from his arm. “You probably remember me as the vampire freak from eighth grade… If you’ll excuse me…” Bruce looked around for Harvey, and his jaw tightened. 

He waited a few minutes before heading to one of the payphones in the hallway. He dialed Harvey’s home phone number and took a shaky breath. Harvey answered on the first ring. “Bruce, I—.” 

“How bad?” Bruce asked. 

“Bruce, he’s sleeping right now… I don’t—. I just—.”

“Harvey, I’m gonna call a cab and come get you. Wait for me outside,” Bruce whispered. 

“Bruce, wait. I—.”

“No buts, Harv. I’ll be there fast,” Bruce replied as he hung up. He called a cab and told them where to meet him. Bruce got picked up in front of the school and went straight to the Dent house. Harvey sat outside on the stoop in his school uniform, but his face was all busted up, and he was bleeding from his browline down the side of his face. Bruce quietly passed him and opened the door. 

“Bruce, don’t—.” 

“Mr. Dent! Mr. Dent!” Bruce shouted before kicking his chair. 

Harvey’s father sat up and frowned at Bruce before calling him a name. “You’re that boy that’s been corrupting my kid—.” Bruce slapped the bottle out of his hand and it shattered on the floor. “I see I’m gonna have to teach you some manners.” Bruce smiled with his tongue in his cheek. 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Bruce chuckled as he locked Harvey out. 

“Bruce, please!” Harvey shouted as he knocked on the door.

“I’m just getting acquainted with your father,” Bruce reassured him. Bruce watched as Mr. Dent staggered out of the chair. And it was over before it even started.

[eddiemunsonw]

Like a dog

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Summary: Happens after Gator gets his ass kicked in episode 2. He clearly needs some help, but he's independent, right? He can take care of this himself, for sure.

CW/Disclaimer: A bit of angst? Gator is having some inner struggles and you're doing your best to accommodate him. And yeah, a bit of misogyny in there too, nothing too strong though I would say. Also some fluff and humor, I barely can do without.

Author's note: The title is misleading, but it'll make sense once you start reading it.

Words: 2319

Gator

His ears were ringing, but apart from that no sound seemed to be coming in. He vaguely noticed his cheek was warm, realized it was blood and tried to not freak out. It wasn’t that he was scared of blood, not at all. Sometimes he even got a little kick out of watching things, people bleed. Just not himself.

Then… there was his arm. That was a problem for sure. He had felt the snap, heard it, even, before that asshole used his gun right next to his ear. Last but not least, his groin. His balls and dick felt like they had grown thrice in size in the bad way. He didn’t think there was any enlargement of balls in the good way anyway. But… Yeah. It really fucking hurt.

Getting to the ER was a challenge too. His father was occupied and he didn’t want to ask for his help for something so insignificant. He was independent. He could just walk. Once he stood upright, he felt like dropping to his knees again, his vision swimming. Everything hurt so much it was nearly blinding. He would’ve thrown up if… wait, had he thrown up? He tasted blood but he had also bitten his tongue, so… Whatever. One step at a time. And fingers crossed that shitbird wouldn’t find him.

You

The crash, followed by a yelp and a cry of pain startled you as you were restocking supplies. You rushed to the front and found a guy, a familiar guy, on the floor, holding his arm as he groaned in pain. Quickly, you kneeled down on the floor next to him, gently touching his shoulder.

“He—”

“Don’t touch me!”

His whole body tensed up and he twisted away from your touch. In the moment, it didn’t register to you as funny even though a bystander could probably see the humor of it as he wiggled away from you, groaning and moaning in pain as he did.

“I assume you’re here for a reason. How about we get you upright and in the chair, so I can check you out?”

Gator finally lifted his head to look at you and squinted. You noticed he was sweating, which wasn’t good. His eyes narrowed even more and a scowl pulled the corners of his mouth down.

“Are you even qualified?”

“Do you want help or not?” you deadpanned.

He managed to lift himself up to lean against the door and tried to cross his arms but remembered one wasn’t really cooperating and winced.

“Are you qualified?”

“To take care of dogs? Yeah, I am.”

Gator’s eyes flamed and you could tell he wanted to lurch forward, probably grasp your throat to shut you up. It didn’t help that you were smiling at him. Lucky for you, he was in too much pain to act on his deepest desires. Instead, he nearly spat the words out he said next.

“What are you calling me?”

You laughed dryly. Gator Tillman. He hadn’t changed a bit since school.

“Funny you immediately assume I’m talking about you. You’re at a vet. This isn’t the ER, Gator.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, taken aback. Only now he actually properly looked around. He seemed to have a hard time focusing his vision still. “What kind of bad business are you running here? There’s no one! Also that’s Sheriff Tillman for you.”

You looked at him, rolled your eyes and walked to the back to make yourself some coffee. He could wait. If he wanted to act like an entitled brat he should have gone to the actual ER. You knew barking dogs rarely bite. After a few minutes, he called out.

“Hey! Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Depends,” you shouted from the back, “are you gonna stop acting like a dick or not, Deputy?”

A silence. One that dragged on long enough for you to walk back to the front with your coffee in hand. Maybe you hadn’t heard the door open and close? Wrong. His eyes met yours immediately when you looked down, lips pressed tightly together, whether out of pain or annoyance with you, you weren’t sure. You gave him a pointed glance and a quip of your brow, waiting.

“Yes.”

With some help, you got him to sit on the examination table, which immediately required a remark from him, of course.

“Can this thing even handle my weight?”

You eyed him up and down slowly, a slow smirk forming. His frown deepened as you let the silence settle between you and he shifted uncomfortably on the table.

“Yeah. You look like you weigh about the size of a chubby golden retriever.”

“I workout every day!” he spluttered, as if that was the point.

“Okay? Point is, it can take you. No need to worry your little head over it. Anyway… let’s see.”

You could feel Gator’s eyes following you as you gathered some supplies, knowing you wouldn’t be able to help him with everything. The best you could probably do was give him a ride to those that could. You turned around and lifted your hand to his face, gently wiping away the blood that had leaked from his ear. His hand grabbed your wrist tightly when you came closer to his ear and he hissed out in pain. His grip was painful, but you could tell by his ragged breaths that he wasn’t doing it out of malice. He was scared.

“Hey…” you started softly, leaning back to look at him. You stood between his legs and while you were smaller than him, were able to see eye to eye due to the height of the table. “You do need to go to the ER. Get you checked out. I can make you a temporary splint for your arm but I don’t wanna mess with it too much as it’s not my expertise to work on humans. I can give you a ride? Is there anything else that hurts?”

He mumbled something incomprehensible and avoided your eyes.

“Sorry?”

“My junk. I think I need to like, cool it or something,” he said reluctantly. You nodded and walked away from him to grab a gel pack from the freezer, but the hand around your wrist stopped you. As you turned around he was quick to avoid your gaze once again and dropped your wrist.

“You might want to take your pants off.”

“Hah?”

“For the gel pack,” you mumbled as you placed a gel pack wrapped in a towel next to him. He frowned but started fumbling with the button of his cargos anyway. You already wrote a note to stick on your door that you’d be out for a bit and added the emergency number of the nearest vet just in case.

“Fuck!”

His voice startled you and as you turned around you noticed he was still struggling with his button. His vest was slightly in the way as well as his belt, which didn’t help.

“Need help?”

“No.”

He continued to try, frustration rising. The soft whimpers and groans made you pity him a little. After a while he looked closer to crying and you couldn’t just stand by and watch. You made your way back, standing between his legs again and gently swatted his hand away. To your surprise, he didn’t object. Instead, he softly gasped, stammering softly as your hand accidentally grazed him. You were unsure whether it was out of pain or… something else. A quick glance at his face confirmed that he was focusing on your hand, lips parted slightly. His usual slicked back hair was messier than usual and only now you noticed the dried up tear streaks on his face. You pulled down his zipper and stepped back so he could get off the table. He slowly lifted his gaze, cheeks slightly flushed and if you weren’t mistaken, his lower lip trembled a little.

“Can you stand?”

Quietly, Gator pushed himself off the table and stood in front of you, taller again. Except, he looked rather small, looking down at his feet like that. He sighed shakily, making no move.

“Do you need help, or…”

He shook his head and pushed his pants down just enough to reveal his boxers before getting himself back on the table and covering himself with the gel pack. A sigh of relief was heard but other than that, he made no comments, no snarky remarks. Very uncharacteristic really. Or maybe it was just him without the forceful mask on his face.

“I’ll grab something for your arm, I’ll—”

You turned away from him again but before you could step away you felt his hand enclose around your wrist again. The gel pack fell to the ground with a soft thud.

“Don’t.”

“I…” you hesitated on what to say.

“Please.”

His voice sounded fragile now, shaky. You nodded and slowly bent down to grab the gel pack and handed it back to him as he let go of your wrist again. While you weren’t sure what he wanted, you made sure to stay. There seemed to be a lot going on in that head of his. Suddenly quite aware of your close proximity, you didn’t know where to look. Even though his crotch was covered with the gel pack, it was still weird to stand between his legs as his cargos dropped below his knees and slowly sagged down. Your gaze was focused to the side, which is why you didn’t immediately notice how he slowly bent forward until his forehead rested on your shoulder. It sounded like he was holding his breath, anticipating your reaction nervously. 

Without thinking, you put an arm around him, your hand soothingly rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. A shuddering breath left him as he relaxed against you. A few minutes in, at least it felt like some, you felt him tense up again. Not much later you felt something wet dripping down your collarbone. He was crying.

“If it’s hurting that badly, maybe we should…”

“No,” he croaked out, arm reaching out to clutch at your hip.

“Okay. Take as much time as you need. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I’m weak,” he managed to grunt. You weren’t surprised that a guy whose father was Roy Tillman had some deep self-loathing to deal with. In school it had always been obvious he felt pressured about living up to his father’s expectations. To be deserving of the Tillman name. He was as cocky as he was insecure. Still, no amount of pain justified being a grade-A dick to others. And yet… here you were, comforting the classic example of a grade-A dick.

“I don’t think you’re weak at all. Weak people don’t call themselves weak,” you told him softly, continuously rubbing his back. His breath shuddered when you gently readjusted the gel pack for him as it was slipping again.

“As if you know anything about weakness or strength,” he bit out, “you’re a female.”

“Right,” you mumbled, unimpressed. “Guess you’re weak then.”

A silence followed, apart from his soft sniffs, a reminder of his earlier crying. You felt him lift his forehead from your shoulder, breath tracing your jawline before his lips followed in its path. Your breath hitched, heartbeat quickening. Suddenly, his lips crashed on yours, demanding intimacy, taking it with some desperation. His lips felt chapped and for a second you were tempted to meet the roughness of his kiss but something in you held back.

In one quick move you pulled back and slapped him in the face. On the sensitive side, no less. He winced and looked betrayed, hand flying up to grab your wrist once more, tightening his grip until it hurt. You watched him closely, careful but not scared.

“Better not try that again without asking,” you warned.

“Or what?” Gator mumbled, his mouth curled down. Clearly not used to not getting his way. Well, too bad for him it had been you he wanted to kiss.

“Or I’ll squeeze your bad arm as hard as you’re squeezing my wrist right now.”

As if forgotten, Gator looked at his own hand and let go immediately, huffing a response you couldn’t make out clearly.

“Well then, shall we go?” you offered, not wanting to drag this out any longer. His injuries needed to be taken care of already. With clear disappointment he got up from the table and he let you help him get his pants back in place. The moment his hand reached out for your wrist you quickly pulled away and he looked up with genuine remorse. Hmm, interesting.

“Sorry,” he sighed and this time you let him take hold of your wrist, surprised when his touch was gentle as he rubbed his thumb over the most sore spot. “You’ve been all nice to me and I’ve been…”

“Yourself,” you finished with a shrug. Hurt crossed his eyes only for a second and you followed his gaze down to your wrist, where his touch was still so gentle.

“I’m not always like… that. I’m not.”

You cocked your head and watched him until his eyes met yours. There was a hesitance in them, but also determination. A soft smile graced your lips, which was met with the subtlest widening of his eyes.

“Maybe you could tell me more about that other you then, after we’ve patched you up.”

“Oh,” he said softly, followed by a nod. “Okay.”

“Come on, Sheriff Tillman.”

He smiled at your sarcastic, teasing tone and moved his hand down to yours to give it a light squeeze before letting go.

“Gator,” he corrected softly. “Just call me Gator, Y/N.”

“I was wondering if you’d remembered my name,” you chuckled.

“I always remember the pretty ones.”

“Flirting now, are we?”

“Maybe.” 

He tried to play it off cool. Until curiosity got the best of him. 

“Is it working?”

“Maybe.”

It was.

If you enjoyed this fic, please comment and/or reblog! It spreads my fic to other people to enjoy whereas a like does not, as much as I appreciate those too :) It would mean a lot <3

[jinkiezzsstuff]

if you don’t mind me asking, when are the next installments of the transmigrated reader series coming out?

So sorry it’s taken so long! It’s been a wild couple of weeks and I’ve been jumping from fic to fic tryna get each one complete! I hope this is a satiating enough! Hopefully when life lets up a bit i can write the longer shit i like to do teehee

Transported (3)

Hazbin crew x male!reader

characters featured: Emily, Sera, Lute, Adam, Vaggie, Charlie, Sir Pentious,

part: [1] [2]

words: 1.3k

warnings: swearing, sera is implied to be kinda bad kinda a hater, adam calls you big balls little dick, male read btw, goat reader, readers implied to be tall, shortish, sir pentious is gonna be a lad, not proofread!

Standing alongside Vaggie and Charlie in the courtroom, you guitily tuned out the entire ordeal, you’d seen the scene many times before and lietened to the song on repeat, that actually was a problem as you starting singing along with the two of high made Vaggie give you a confused look. You however simply shrugged that off like it was nothing.

You waited for the scene to be set and for the three of you to be forced into the portal Adam would create and be good onto the next. However that didn’t happen, instead Sera, Lute, Emily and Adam came down in front of you Charlie and Vaggie, the other angels flying away. “So big dick goat boy, what’s the shtick with you?” Adam clicks his tongue, hands on his hips as he looks up to you, inwardly you panic but hold together, giving a quick glance over to Sera who looked quite menacing at the moment. “What do you mean?” Charlie stepped in, exhaustion lacing her tone, understandably as she just found out her girlfriend is an ex angel.

“Well it’s just that big balls little dick here is outta place, even Sera said-“ Sera promptly cut the first man off with a stern call of his name and a glare. He sulked crossing his arms and sticking his tongue out, however he kept his mouth shut. Charlie didn’t seem like she was in the mood to question what Adam was going to say, thank goodness, but Sera didn’t seem to be done. “You know, some of us were born to be, and others made to be, but none of us just appear out of thin air we all have a purpose in heaven, or hell.”

Charlie crossed her arms shrinking back, probably making the assumption the comment was about the hotel, however Sera had her sight set on you, her eyes glowing with meaning. You glanced over at Adam and Lute, Lute seemed to giving you a hard glare, but Adam didn’t seem to care scrolling through his phone. “We do all have a purpose than, even the ones who appear out of thin air may serve a purpose.” You claim wearily, yet attempt to keep your ground as your eyes bounce from person to person. Your hands shoved in your pants pockets you stood tall, horns sticking up high past your head.

“Yeah, cool, whatever-bye bitches! we’re coming straight to your hotel this extermination!” Adam broke the silence butting in, now this is what you were familiar with as the portal opened, Adam shoved you three through, Charlie freaking out and trying to get at Adam. You caught one last glimpse of Sera’s cold gaze as the portal closed, and you just know things aren’t gonna be good from here.

~

Vaggie was downstairs at the bar, not drinking but just sitting. She wish you didn’t see the way things played out, and she was embarrassed you found out she was a fallen angel too. Walking up to the bar, your hooves clopping against the ground alerted her of your presence before you slid into the barstool beside her. She didn’t bother looking up at you, or even saying anything to you, just at quietly.

She half expected you to sling out questions one by one about her being an exorcist, however you just sat quietly with her. In your mind you wanted to comfort her, but after today it would be too suspicious for you to act in a way that is too out of the ordinary, like giving the impression you’re an all knowing fortune teller. Instead you gave Vaggies back a few comforting pats, when she looked toward you, you offered a small smiled.

Vaggie seemed to appreciate the gesture smiling back and giving a nod, you’re hopefull things lighten up soon. As Vaggie went to open her mouth an inquisitive look taking over her features, the hotel doors slammed open, and in walked Angel with Alastor. “Weird there coming in together.” You mutter, giving Vaggie a look, she hummed in agreement. Angel plopped himself down on the couch, meanwhile Alastor lingered creepily in the back, close enough but still far. “So how’d things go with the holy? What’s the plan?” Angel asked lounging across the sofa, Vaggie nervously looked around scratching the back of her neck.

“We don’t…. Charlie will come up with something a big plan is going to happen.” Vaggie affirmed, out of the corner you watch Alastor fade into black goop, you already knew the plan was going to go down… but should you really intervene? It seems your presence in the show has already caused disturbances in the way things are playing out, if you stop the deal from happening who knows what crazy twist things will take.

But… you know the angels can die, which is what Alastor wants to make the deal for. In the middle of your inner battle the green shot through the room making you tense. “Too late,” You mutter watching as Vaggie run off. “What did you say bad boy?” Nifty creepily asked breathlessly, hugging the bottom of your leg. You grimaced watching as Angel gave you a look, Pentious slithering into the picture. “Nifty, invading onessss perssonal ssspacce issss very rude,” Pentious reason hissing out his words, you smile at him genuinely, watching as he tried to poke the little devil off.

She hissed like a demented animal, and clung tighter to your leg. “Don’t test her, I saw how she can be with Val.” Angel muttered, Husk who entered behind the bar not long ago spat out his drink. “Angel!” You tilted your head confused, oh right, they went to the bar, and you’re not supposed to know that. Acting confused, you attempt to save Angel the lecture of keeping his mouth shut, instead you simply bent down and tore the cyclops off you. “Hey, Pentious?” You questioned plopping Nifty down, her cackling and running off. “Yessss?” The snake hissed tilting his head, you wrapped your arm around his back guiding him away from the others. “I was curious about your inventions, and you would know better than anyone..” You trail off your hand making a circular motion as you try to find the words.

“You think Id know better than anyone?” Sir pentious said in astonishment sparkles in his eyes. You smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah, i want some scientific advice.” He clapped his hands together happily, ready to help. “Do you think it’s possible to move between like universes? Like falling into a wormhole?” You questioned as nonsuspiciously as you could, however Sir pentious was used to his egg boys madness and didn’t mind it at all. He perked up hands tapping on his lip as he though.

“I supposssse? We’d have to confirm the existenccce of other universsesss firssst.” He said matter of factly, you hummed, trying to figure out how you could question him further without him questioning you back. “I’m just really interested with theories of other life and realms, especially since finding out hells real.”

The snake nodded understandingly as he listened to your explanation, it seemed like he was trying to figure out what to say. “You know that isss quite interessssting! I’m alwayss ssso focussed on killing machinesss! I’m going to do sssome sstudying!” Pentious proclaimed finger in the air, you chuckled at his over the top reaction, but pat him on the back bidding him ado as he slithered off. Fiddling with the cuffs on your suit you wandered aimlessly back over to where Angel and Husk stayed situated.

“Heya babe~” Angel whistled at you dragging your attention away. “Yeah?” You say a little air headed like, you felt weirdly about everything especially after seeing Sera and the angels, you wonder what they saw in you that the demons couldn’t? “Wanna play a card game until the others come down?” Angel guestured over to Husk who had the cards between his claws.

Might as well relax a bit, after all it’s only a matter of time before the battle.