#Red Hood doing his thing behind the scenes

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of it - Crying over Tacos

Character: Jason Todd x civilian! Fem!oc

Rating and Warnings: SFW, mention of past partner abuse (not Jason).

Word Count: 920

Summary: Jason and Andy make tacos and cry. Jason comforts his hurt friend.

Masterlist

Jason was in Andy’s apartment, arguing over taco fillings. 

It was the first time he’d accepted an invitation and she had been afraid it would be awkward. She was awkward about a lot of things, and Jason could be skittish at the best of times, and after telling him about her abusive ex a week prior surely everything would be strange and feel forced. 

It wasn’t and it didn’t. 

“There’s already plenty of peppers in the beef,” she said, eyeing the innocent bowl of diced avocado. 

“Only ancho and poblanos, and you cut most of the seeds out.” The tack-tack-tack of his knife against the chopping board didn’t slow down in the least. 

“Yeah but you didn’t see how many habaneros went into the salsa this morning. And then there’s fresh jalapeno for garnish. What if we’re getting carried away?”

He scoffed. “Carried away, we’re not going far enough. The target, the mission, the holy grail, was spicy birria tacos. If they’re not even spicy then what was the point of getting up this morning?” 

“At this rate we’ll never get up ever again! Where will our poor taste buds find reprieve?”

“So dramatic,” he sighed, like he wasn’t the most dramatic person she’d ever met. “The onions aren’t spicy. Neither’s the cheese. Or the tortillas.”

“We’re frying the tortillas in spicy fat from the beef,” she said flatly. 

He made direct eye contact and scraped the sliced chillies into the guacamole. 

She sighed. 

“Now, how much of the…” he began as he reached for a bundle of cilantro with one hand and scratched his eye with the other. 

She gasped. 

“Ah fuck.”

The next fifteen minutes was spent washing his eye out with milk. 

Andy resolutely did not laugh at him despite it being one hundred percent his fault. She’d been maced before and cried like a baby, capsaicin was no joke.

He handled it like a champ. Barely a whimper, despite the angry red of his eyes and tears streaming down his cheek. She was as impressed as she was sympathetic.

After he’d had as much fussing as he was going to take, he sat at the island bench with a bowl of milk and sulked.

She skimmed the fat from the top of the meat sauce with a ladle and let him feel sorry for himself in peace. She’d give it at least a week before teasing him relentlessly over it. She could call it the serrano incident. The guac fiasco? His taco troubles. Maybe she would send him pictures of chopped up peppers when he was being annoying. 

“Andy.” 

“Hm?”

“Come look at this,” he said. His voice was gentle. 

She looked over her shoulder. 

He slid his phone across the bench. “Maybe sit down first.”

She quirked an eyebrow and picked up the phone. 

A headline in sensible Times New Roman script on a white background read: ‘Local Entrepreneur Kieran McLeod Arrested.’ 

She dropped the ladle. Sauce splashed on the stove top. She scrolled through the article with greasy fingers, her eyes speeding through a tasteless opinion piece praising Kieran for all the jobs he created, describing what a respectable pillar of the community he was, and his troubles with a violent ex partner who did worse to him than the accusations he was currently accused of. Four paragraphs in it mentioned that he was arrested on domestic battery charges and had been denied bail. There were rumours of some vigilante being involved but no details had been confirmed by the police. 

The article ended on a candid photo of his current partner and latest victim, a nineteen year old woman who looked a lot like Andy. 

She dropped the phone. 

Jason caught it. 

She hadn’t noticed him standing next to her.

“Are you okay?” 

She nodded like a bobble head. She choked on a laugh. 

“I’m fine.” She couldn’t even focus on him with the tears flooding her eyes. She laughed again. He squeezed her shoulder. Her heart felt like it was going to burst.

She went to wipe her eyes, and he caught her hand before she could. 

“Careful. We’re all out of milk,” he said. 

She had no idea why, but that was what freed the broken sob stuck in her throat. It felt like it’d been trapped there for years. 

He folded her into his arms, and held her while she fell apart. 

A little later Jason sat her down at the island bench and took her place at the stove. 

She sniffed while he stuffed and fried the tacos. The news sank in. She wished she knew which vigilante it was and what he'd done to run a foul of that crowd, if the rumour wasn’t made up. Probably some New York hero she’d never heard of. Who even operated in Newark? 

Jason slid a plate of obscenely, transcendently spicy tacos in front of her, as well as a beer. 

She raised the bottle, but couldn’t think of a toast that quite encapsulated what she was feeling.

“To creeps getting what they deserve,” he said with a quiet intensity.

She clinked her bottle against his and took a swig. She smacked her lips. “And to that poor girl getting away. I hope she’s going to be alright.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile. “I think she’ll be okay.”

Feeling lighter than she had in years, she stuffed a generous bite of taco into her mouth. Kieran was in jail and she had good food and even better company. Life could be a lot worse. 

“I reckon this guac needs more peppers,” she said. 

“I told you!” He pointed with his bottle. 

She laughed. 

Next>>

[itsgodepi]

First Loser | MV33

Summary: In the wake of a disastrous race, you're caught under the media's unforgiving glare. Your every move and word is dissected for days on end while you simply try to navigate your rookie year in Formula One. It is just your luck that your opponent in this fiasco is none other than the famously outspoken driver: Max Verstappen.  Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader Word Count: 8k Warnings: accident, anxiety, enemies to lovers Notes: Part 1 of the series Chasing Firsts, can be read as a standalone. Also on AO3

The air rushes into your lungs with ragged intensity, each inhale a searing burn that seems to set your chest aflame. The tight straps of the safety belt only exacerbate the struggle, constricting your breathing while your hands uselessly claw at the buckle. Muscles so unbelievably stiff that every movement make it feel like needles are digging into your skin.  

You force your eyes open, vision swimming in a blur of unrecognizable shapes and distorted shadows. Blood is surging through your veins like molten lava, pooling into a searing knot at the center of your chest. It pounds furiously against your ribs, each thunderous beat reverberating through the tempest of thoughts that swirl uncontrollably in your mind. 

You’re out. Done. Everything you worked for, everything you hoped for, slipping through your fingers like sand. 

Frustration boils over, erupting into raw, unchecked rage. You slam your foot down on the pedals with every ounce of strength you can muster, your fists pounding against the nearest surface with resounding thuds. The sounds are deafening in the confined space of the cockpit, a violent release that leaves your hands stinging and a wave of dizziness washing over you. 

A sigh slides through your lips. What are you even doing? You are too out of it. 

You slump back into the seat, your resolve crumbling as fatigue overwhelms you. The battle to keep your eyes open only intensifying the pounding in your head. What’s the point anyway? The scene before you is devastating —barriers looming over your side, a twisted wheel perched precariously on the hood of your car, and just ahead, a dark Formula One car buried in the gravel. 

That fucking Red Bull. 

Tears begin to pool in your eyes as the adrenaline that once chased the. away slowly drains, leaving behind a trembling mess. It’s done. The pressure in your chest tightens with each passing second, the fabric over your cheeks dampening with disappointment. In yourself, in your choices, in everything that led you to this very moment. At least this stupid helmet shields you from the outside world, from the screams of the crowd and unattainable promises. The only thing protecting you as you break down.

It was so close. 

The sound of a revving engine slices through your tears, yanking you back to the harsh reality of the moment. To your fate. Your hand instinctively grasps the wheel as the static in your ears begins to fade.  

“Are you okay?” the repeated message crackles over the radio, each time louder than the last, ringing in your ears. The race engineer’s voice is tinged with urgency, and you realize he must have been asking that since you first grazed the track limits. 

You struggle to articulate a response, your jaw muscles aching from being clenched so tightly during the crash. “Yes, I... Yeah, it’s okay” the faint voice that escapes your lips barely recognizable, even to you. Blame your laboured breath or the tears sliding non-stop down your cheeks for making you talk like you haven’t pronounced a word in months. 

The radio comes alive once again, interferences cutting into the race engineer’s words, though his relief is evident. More time than you expected must have gone by; silence is never a good sign in these situations.  

You can't quite decipher his exact message over the noise, but you push past the fog in your mind to respond “I’m alright, the car started sli—” 

However, your train of thought is abruptly interrupted by the sight of the other protagonist of the crash. Seeing him climbing out of the wreckage of his car, seemingly unscathed despite the severity of the collision, filling you with profound relief and just momentarily silencing your racing thoughts. 

The sight of Max looking towards your car pulls you further from the fog. Your gaze lock onto him, on his purposeful stride as he heads straight toward you. 

A flutter of disbelief mingles with the tension in your chest —is he coming to check on you?

As he draws closer, the corners of your mouth curl into a small smile, a reaction you can’t suppress despite the circumstances. He must have noticed you still seated in the car, frozen, while the marshals were still nowhere to be seen. Again, not a good sign in the motorsports' world.

When he is close enough to the vehicle, you manage to stick a hand out of the halo, giving him a thumbs-up to signal that you’re okay. “I’m so sorry, guys. I tried, I promise I really tried to...” your voice trembles with raw emotion as you are back to speaking into the radio, each word laced with a mix of sadness and desperation. 

You take a moment to collect yourself, eyes closed as you breathe deeply, when suddenly, you feel your hand being slapped away. Startled, your eyes snap open, looking to where your hand was a moment ago as your crawl it close to your chest.  

You see Max looming over your seat, a hand gripping the bar of your halo while the other waves angrily through the air. You watch him, open mouthed, hear to his angry yells, muffled by both your helmet and his, that make his words unrecognizable. But it is as if you knew exactly what he was saying. 

Max’s anger and the frustration of the moment collide within you, a storm of emotions that bursts out uncontrollably.

"What the fuck? It was your fault, you fucking asshole,” you scream at him with all the force you are lacking “And now you dare to come here to intimidate —!” 

The fury in your voice, the sheer anguish of what you had lost... Reliving it sends a shiver down your spine. If you lift your eyes to the screen behind the journalist, you can also watch the exact moment the communications with the team were cut.

That’s it, you spring from the seat, completely enraged by Max's audacity to come reprimand anything after the manoeuvre he had pulled on you, and the radio’s cable goes flying in the air. Ripped off the socket.

A perfect shot. 

And finally, some privacy for one of the worst moments of your life. They had enough with the video being played on every single screen of the paddock. If only you had managed to hit that damn button again and shut off the microphone. 

You let out a sigh, gripping the steel barricade between the interviewer and you, as if trying to release some of the emotions still coursing through you. “It’s no one’s fault really, these things happen... I was just overwhelmed by the situation and said the intimidation thing, just completely drunk off adrenaline. Like Max probably” 

The statement might not align with your true feelings, but when hundreds of interviewers are knocking over each other to get your statement and the images are being endlessly replayed, it is what you have to say. No need for it to blow more.

This is also how you justify your reaction, not only to all the other journalists that same day, with trembling hands and a still-thrashing heart, but also throughout the following week in Belgium. The same questions are repeated time and time again, your words are played in every medium of communication interested in Formula One and beyond, yet your response remains the same. 

A car crash like that would drive anyone to their wits’ end. 

It got easier to say after every new interview, your body finally pushing out of that shock state after the crash, the fear of jumping into the car gone after the first practice at the Spa-Francorchamps Circuit. Although you could not say the same about your state of mind, not with the constant taunting. 

Max had only given a few interviews the day of, looking the least bit apologetic but acknowledging his part in the incident and lamenting that both your races had come to a sudden end. When asked specifically about his outburst, he gave curt, regretful answers—no regret in sight, of course. Yet, later on, and probably advised by his media team, he decided to align himself with your ‘drunk on adrenaline’ statement. It was a convenient choice, indeed. 

Nonetheless, it looks like the effect of his media team’s nagging did not last long. 

“Max, the stewards have just issued the resolution for the impeding of Perez in Q2. The Haas will receive a three-place grid penalty. Any thoughts?” someone asks as Max is making his way out of the paddock, backpack slung over his shoulder. 

“To thirteenth?” Max wonders, sipping from his bottle with a curious look, slowing his pace so the interviewer and camera can catch up. 

The mention of your incident on Qualy has caught his attention.

“No, she’s dropped to fourteenth” the interviewer corrects, glancing at the press release on his phone and pointing the microphone back at the Dutch driver. 

Max tilts his head to the side, his lips pursed “That’s... okay, seems alright”. It’s almost inaudible, his head turning back to open the car’s door, as though it’s a simple reflection.  

You know full well it isn’t. This is not his first time being caught in a drama, and it’s clearly not his first fight. And he has seen the video, it's not a fair penalty for you.

“That’ll make for a calm race, isn’t that right?” the journalist pokes, a smirk evident in his voice. He has Max right where he wants him. And the Dutch response doesn't let him down.

Max laughs at it. He laughs.

And, that’s it, what might seem like just another trivial reaction, in the wake of last week’s drama, turns the media into a storm. 

You can’t keep track of the times you are tagged in the video, the headlines it makes or the messages you privately receive about it. It’s everywhere, inescapable. All you can do is bite your lip and grimace every time the topic arises in the media pen. 

Which is in every single interview.

If you were being completely honest, the media frenzy had not come as much of a shock. Max Verstappen's reputation for his bluntness precedes him, and you know it firsthand since it has been directed at you quite a few times. Your history with the Dutch driver has always been a complex mix of distant acquaintances and unspoken rivalries. The latter includes his offhand remarks when you first joined the sport or the critics to your start in Bahrain earlier on the season, which had not been exactly pleasant but also not unexpected. 

Those digs had been easy enough to ignore; you did not care what he had to say, so the controversy died a few days later when you didn’t throw a jab back. It’s just your luck that, out of all the drivers, you had impeded his teammate's fast lap. 

Looks like it wasn’t enough having such a hard penalty thrown at you. A small error by your race engineer cost you the opportunity to climb up the grid and put you in Verstappen’s crosshairs. 

It’s all you can think about as you ride the truck during the driver’s parade, the crowd’s cheers and waves a distant blur. Their enthusiasm should have lifted your spirits, should have reminded you of the dream you were living. But instead, you find yourself retreating inward, pulling away from the others and slipping into the far corner of the truck, leaning heavily against the railing.  

A small bubble of isolation in the midst of a roaring celebration. 

A huge banner in the crowd catches your eye —a splash of color with your name and number framed with lots of glitter and hearts. You can't help but smile at the gesture, a genuine one that breaks through the storm inside you. The woman holding the sign notices your gaze and waves it enthusiastically. Her mouth moves, likely shouting words of encouragement, but the roar of the crowd drowns out her voice. 

You wave some more, grin stretching wider as you catch her excited reaction. In your moment of distraction, your shirt shifts, revealing a large bruise that snakes across your side —a nasty reminder of the crash back in Hungary. It has now become a deep mix of purple and yellow, sprawling across your ribs in a way that’s hard to ignore. 

And it doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“Hey, what happened there?” Daniel’s voice cuts through, his concern evident as he leans in the railing, eyes wide with concern. 

You glance down, momentarily startled by the sight of the dark, ugly bruise. “Just from the crash last week,” you mutter, instinctively pulling the hem of your top down to hide it, but not before Daniel's concerned gaze catches it fully “It’s taking ages to heal”. 

His eyebrows furrow in alarm. “That’s not just a bruise! I didn’t know it had been that bad” His hand hovers near your side, filled with an instinct to help “‘You sure you should be racing?” 

Before you can respond, the exchange draws the attention of a couple drivers nearby. Alex and Lando wander over, their curiosity piqued by Daniel's reaction. 

Lando’s eyes narrow as he takes in the bruise. "Shit, that looks bad" his blunt remark gaining him a nudge from Alex. 

You let out a small, tired laugh “Thank you? I guess” 

Alex steps closer, peering over Lando’s shoulder with a look of genuine worry. "Did you talk to the doctors?" 

Daniel, glancing at where the bruise hides with a sympathetic frown, quietly adds “And the mechanics too...” 

“Yeah, I’m cleared, looks worse than it is. And trust me, I’m not missing this race” you state, the discomfort in your ribs and the sudden attention making you shift uncomfortably. “Got some extra padding in the seat now, though.” 

The group doesn’t push any further, only giving you tight-lipped smiles and exchanging a few glances between them, though you can tell they’re not entirely convinced. You’re relieved when the truck starts moving toward the pitlane, signalling the end of the driver’s parade and allowing you to escape the spotlight, if only for a moment. 

As you step down from the truck and head towards the garage, Verstappen suddenly falls into step beside you. You glance at him, eyebrows knitting together in confusion and irritation. 

“Hey,” he says, eyes flickering down to your side “You alright?” 

The question feels loaded, more than just concern for your physical well-being. It’s the first real acknowledgment of what happened between you two, and the tension crackles between you like static. 

You tense, your anger simmering beneath the surface. "I’m completely fine" you say, a little sharper than intended, still raw from the incident and everything that has transpired since.  

"Look, I’m sorry you got hurt.” the Red Bull driver sighs, hand coming up to scratch his cheek. “But, you know, there was nothing I could do. You left me no space and— " 

That makes you stop in your tracks, fists clenching at your sides as you spin to face him. A forced smile is plastered across your face, though your eyes are burning with frustration. You are fully aware of where you are, can feel the eyes trained on you, the people discreetly gathering by your sides but not daring to approach. You are right at the entrance of the pit lane, under the gaze of spectators in the grandstands and the guests hanging balconies over the garages. 

“Oh, so this is what it’s about?” you snap, voice laced with venomous sweetness. “You want me to say you did great, that ‘oh poor thing, I wasn’t letting you race’?” 

Verstappen’s expression hardens, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment, clearly not expecting the bite in your tone. "No, that’s not—" 

“Watch the fucking video, Max,” you interrupt his explanation, your smile still in place but your words sharp. “I was right there. You turned in like I wasn’t even racing you!” 

Max’s face reddens, his anger palpable as he tries to defend himself. “I’m not going to let you just blame me for everything,” he retorts, voice deep “You knew you couldn’t hold up and yet, you kept blocking me. You know better than that!” 

“I know better?!” you repeat incredulously “It’s you who drives like a maniac, pushing every fucking limit and expecting everyone to get out of your way!” 

“That’s not fair, and you know it." the Dutch’s eyes narrow, clearly stung by your accusation." I came to apologize, but it looks like you’re too busy playing the victim to actually have a normal conversation.” 

“Go fuck yourself, Max,” you say, the smile on your face a strained mask of anger for the cameras capturing every second of this standoff “I shouldn’t have saved your sorry ass. You came to intimidate me then, and now you’re just trying to do it again.” 

Everyone is waiting for a reaction, something they can replay and dissect for days on end. That is what they want, what Max wants, but you are decided not to give it to them. Not here, not ever. 

The word ‘intimidate’ hits Max like a punch. His eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something else—maybe hurt, maybe disbelief— but before he can respond, someone else interrupts the scene. 

Daniel saunters over with his signature grin, throwing an arm around Max’s shoulders and pulling him in like they’re just two friends hanging out before a race. The casualness of the move feels jarring against the heated tension between, but Daniel’s intentions are clear. 

“Alright, alright, let’s cool down, kids,” Daniel says, his tone playful but cutting the tension immediately. “We’ve got a race ahead, yeah?” 

There’s an undertone of urgency in Daniel’s eyes as they flick between you, practically begging you both to play along. Verstappen stiffens under Daniel’s arm, the anger still radiating off him in waves, but he doesn’t push him off. Instead, he also forces a tight-lipped smile, letting the older driver guide him towards the garage. 

Daniel looks back at you from a few meters away, his eyes full of unspoken questions. You meet his gaze and offer a slight nod, hoping he’ll understand you’ll be alright. You hope so. 

That day, Verstappen is crowned the winner of the Belgium Grand Prix, lifting his trophy amidst a blur of celebratory cheers and flashing cameras. The dominance of his Red Bull had been undeniable, easily overtaking Lewis Hamilton in just a few laps and maintaining a consistent five-second lead. It was a victory that felt almost inevitable. The superiority of the machine, and his skill, had made this race his from the start. 

“Well, sometimes you have to be smart and know when to pick up a fight” Verstappen states with a shrug during the post-race interviews, still sticky with champagne, adjusting his cap with nonchalance. His words were casual, but the undertone of superiority was clear. “Simple as that” 

Then came the voice, sharp and loud enough to turn heads in the press room: "Some people love wasting everyone’s time." 

The crowd of reporters fell into a hush. Everyone knew what that comment referred to—your battle with Max earlier in the race. Though it only took Max half a lap to pass you, the ferocity with which you defended your position had been the talk of the week. Some praised it as spirited, but most agreed it was just a roadblock for the Dutchman. 

Max could have ignored it. He could have chosen silence. But instead, he picked up the microphone again, leaned back in the chair, and added, “Yeah, clearly,” with the same detached tone, fueling the already smoldering flames of controversy. 

You weren't there to hear the smug remark firsthand, but it found you soon enough, as these things do. He doesn’t have to worry about that. 

“Oh, he said that? Really?” you muttered bitterly, your eyebrows knitting together in a mixture of frustration and disbelief. You couldn’t help the anger bubbling up. Not only had he made a snide comment, but he’d doubled down on it when a journalist baited him. He had to be joking. “Well, you know what? He should know how to fight without ending in the curb. He’s not a rookie anymore” 

And with that, the story exploded.  

The media ran with it, fuelling the narrative of a growing rivalry between you and Verstappen. Headlines, articles, social media—all of it revolved around your comment and Max’s subtle digs. The situation escalated when Red Bull’s team principal chimed in, defending Max and throwing more shade your way. His comment about "drivers needing to be aware of their surroundings" felt like another knife in the back. You couldn’t watch more than a few seconds before turning off the interview, letting the media team handle the backlash in your stead. 

At the peak of it all, as if on cue, a video is posted online, flooding every social media platform within hours. It was footage from a Grill the Grid challenge, recorded months ago, back when you were still settling into your Haas gear. You had guessed Max’s childhood photo in an instant, smiling softly as you held the picture up to the camera. 

“Max! That’s easy,” you had said, the smile lingering. “He’s always had such pretty eyes... I’ll give him that.” 

You never expected that line to make the final cut. They usually cut those videos down, especially with the newer drivers. But they ran with it —probably hoping for this exact reaction from their followers. 

Alongside it, Verstappen’s reaction to your photo also rises to the top of the searched videos. It is similar to yours, instantly guessing your name despite your hair being hidden underneath a woollen beanie, which would be the instant give away when compared to the rest of the men. Of course he recognized you, he’d been there when the photo was taken, back in the early karting days, probably messing around with his sister, Victoria, while waiting for his turn to race. 

It was one of the first few races you participated in, and although it was also one of the last ones Victoria raced in, you clicked pretty well. You might think it was a given for the only two girls in the sea of boys, but it was nice nonetheless. You often wished she had continued racing alongside you, sharing this difficult journey. Perhaps it would have been Victoria's printed photo in the stand. 

But Verstappen didn’t mention any of that. He just spends a moment longer than necessary looking at your picture, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

At the Dutch Grand Prix, the weight of the media storm becomes almost palpable. Every question during the weekend seemed to circle back to him. No matter how much you tried to redirect attention, the media kept poking, fishing for another soundbite. 

You manage to end the weekend unscathed. Verstappen had probably been advised, once again, to ignore the topic and avoid the snide comments. You are glad he is listening to them this time —not like the people in his team, but that’s another a whole different story. He has not even reacted to your remark last week, publicly that is, and kept his focus on the race all throughout the weekend. 

Well, it is easier to forget about the press when winning left and right. Even more so when he is bringing home such an important win, his home race’s trophy.  

Meanwhile, you trudged back to the Haas garage, yet another disappointing race under your belt. Your name getting comfortable hanging near the back of the grid, the sting of failure settling in. 

Emma, your PR minder, intercepted you on the way to the media pen. Her expression was strained as she handed you a tablet. “There’s a new video making the rounds” her voice cautious as she gave you the news. 

Your stomach clenches as the clip starts rolling. The shaky video captures some unseen footage from the day of the crash, probably filmed from the edge of the track. It shows you, huddled against a barrier, knees pulled tightly to your chest. Your helmet is off, and you're crying uncontrollably, shaking like a leaf caught in a storm. Marshals gather around, gently trying to lift you, but your body hangs limp, like a puppet whose strings have been cut, utterly broken. 

After several long seconds, the video cuts to your arrival at the garage, your face a mask of composure. The tears are gone, then. No trembling, no visible sign of the emotional breakout you just had. You simply walk in towards the screens of the pitwall, face blank. As if nothing had happened. 

Emma glances at you, trying to gauge your reaction.  

“So, what do we do?” your voice is slow, forced, as you blink away the tears. 

Emma’s voice drifts in and out of your mind as she tries to explain the plan for handling the press, but you can barely focus. All you want is to be done with this day—this race, this stress, this constant barrage of questions. Your mind is still reeling from the latest disastrous race, and now the video. 

“Just stick to the script, try to pivot the attention” she concludes, voice carefully neutral as she keeps a steady pace, moving you through the paddock with a hand in your back. 

“I just want to be done with this...” you whispered, your voice cracking. Your chest tightens as the video plays again in your mind, the rawness of it suffocating you. 

Emma gives you a sympathetic look, though there’s a hint of firmness in her tone. “I know. Let’s answer a couple question and we’ll be gone in no time, I promise” 

You nod absently, barely taking in her advice as you try to steady your breathing. 

The background hum of the paddock turns into a dull roar, your focus too scattered to notice it at first. It’s only when the noise grows louder—cheers and loud laughter—that you snap out of your thoughts, realizing the celebration has crept right up to you. 

You look up just in time to see a sea of dark blue pouring through the paddock. The Red Bull team, still riding the high of his victory, is coming down the main street. One of them tosses the trophy in the air with a triumphant whoop, cameras clicking wildly around them. You instinctively step aside, shrinking into yourself, hoping to stay out of sight. 

But then, as if drawn by some invisible thread, Verstappen’s locks onto yours. He takes a deep breath before he breaks away from the group, approaching you cautiously. 

“Hey,” he says, his voice tentative, unusually soft. “Can we talk for a second?” 

His approach catches you completely off guard. The last thing you need right now is this conversation ���especially with him. The weight of the bad race, the stress, everything that’s gone wrong today. It’s too much. “Not now, Max,” you say, sharper than intended, trying to push past him. 

Max’s expression tightens, but he steps forward, his hand catching your arm gently but firmly, halting your escape. “Wait—just, hold on. I know things have been rough, but I wanted to check on—” 

You whip around, eyes immediately flicking from his hand on your arm to his face, complete and utter shock flashing through you before anger takes over. You see red, your pulse pounding in your ears, drowning out any attempt to understand what he’s trying to say. 

“What the hell, Max?” your voice is low but laced with fury, each word seething. “Do you really think now is the time? That this is what I need right now?” 

His grip loosens, his eyes widening as if he hadn’t expected your reaction, but you’re not even close to being done. 

“You’re keeping me out here again for what? So I can make a scene?” you gesture toward the photographers, already poised with their cameras trained on the two of you, eagerly awaiting the drama. Your words spill out, venomous but restrained. “To give them exactly what they’re hoping for—more shots of me losing it? Is that what you want, Max?”  

The look on his face is as if you’ve physically struck him. His mouth opens slightly, something akin to a “Sorry” slipping out of his lips. But the damage is already done.  

With a harsh breath, you yank your arm away and turn on your heel. You storm off, adrenaline surging through you, blurring the cameras, the people, the stares. Everything fades into a dull hum, swallowed by the chaos you’re desperately trying to escape. 

The media frenzy surrounding the crash had mostly died down by the time the United States Grand Prix rolled around. The headlines shifted, and the cameras no longer swarmed your every move. Maybe the world found a woman broken down and crying at the side of a track a less than interesting topic to critique. Ironically, the overexposure had granted you some much-needed breathing room. 

And in that quiet, you focused on what really mattered: the racing. 

It feels contradictory to reach the first milestone of your Formula One career on a circuit you have always despised. The Circuit of The Americas was a harsh, undulating track that challenged even the most seasoned drivers. Its aggressive turns and long straights had never been kind to you, a place where any minor mistake could leave you battling the car just to stay on track, let alone compete. The Texas heat didn’t help either, soaking into the tarmac and the air, making everything feel heavier, harder.  

Yet, despite your earlier misgivings, the track had offered you a chance to prove yourself. And this time, you seized it. 

Your car, against all odds, held up perfectly. The upgrades to the car, though minor, made it feel more responsive and alive beneath your hands. And the strategy calls had been spot-on. This time, everything clicked.  

When you crossed the finish line and scored your first points in Formula One, the emotion hit you like a wave. It was a small but monumental victory, a validation of your skill and perseverance in a place which often seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. 

The media circus, which had been a constant presence throughout the season, faded in the background. As if it had never been there. 

As you coasted back to the garage, your face locked in a smile that refused to fade, the team met you halfway, erupting into celebration. Cheers filled the air as they lifted you, waving the position board with "P10" scrawled beside your name as though you had taken a podium finish. Their joy wasn’t just about the result; it was about everything that led to that moment—your hard work, their dedication, and the culmination of a long, arduous season. 

The party continued in the garage, where the team gathered for photos and the popping of a small bottle of champagne that you were drenched in. The atmosphere was electric, filled with laughter, cheers, and a sense of collective pride. Hugs, handshakes, and nods of respect flowed not just from your own team but from drivers wandering in from their garages, their congratulations laced with a new-found respect. For you, it all was confirmation that you were here to stay. 

Amid the flurry of congratulations, you noticed Max approaching. His presence, initially unexpected, was met with mixed emotions. You had become accustomed to the tension between you, a simmering rivalry that played out both on and off the track. But today, was different. 

Max gave you a small, hesitant smile as he walked towards you. The usual competitive edge in his eyes softened. “Congratulations,” he said quietly, extending a hand. His tone sincere as a small chuckle slips off his lips “You really earned it.” 

In that moment, the weight of the day’s emotions, combined with the unexpected kindness from the rival, overwhelmed you. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as the events of the day hit you all at once. Without thinking, you step forward and wrap your arms around Max in a spontaneous hug. A gesture of relief and gratitude, expressing emotions that words couldn’t quite capture. 

Max seems taken aback by the embrace, but he returns it with a reassuring pat on your back. There’s a brief, shared moment—one filled with the weight of everything you’ve both endured this season. The conflicts, the tension... It all melts away in the hug, replaced by a silent acknowledgment of the challenges faced. It’s as if you both silently agree: whatever the future holds, you will handle it differently. You’ll treat each other better. 

With a final nod, Max turns and walks away, blending into the sea of people celebrating around you, leaving you to bask in the moment with your team. You wipe at your tears, laughter bubbling up as your team drags you back into the celebration. 

The Brazilian Grand Prix was always a spectacle of unpredictability, and this year was no different. The warm atmosphere at Interlagos crackled with anticipation and nerves, heightened by your surprising performance in qualifying. The car felt responsive, dialled in for the twists and turns of the circuit. 

This was the highest position you had achieved all season, and the weight of expectation mingled with excitement as you lined up on the grid. The lights overhead blinked to life, the engines roaring in unison and the adrenaline starting pumping though your body. 

Launching off the line, you navigated the opening corners with precision, maintaining position amidst the frenetic battles of the midfield. You kept focus, managing your tires well, everything clicking into place just enough to keep you in a high enough position. Things were finally working in your favour. 

The decision to pit early came as a calculated risk, a move to capitalize on the clear track and exploit the potential of fresh rubber. The pit crew executed flawlessly, the stop seamless in its precision. Emerging back onto the track, the new tires gripped the asphalt with renewed vigor, propelling you forward into the heart of the race. 

As expected, the field began to thin out with the inevitable cycle of pit stops not much later. With each passing lap, your focus sharpened, pushing harder to maximize the advantage. You found yourself gaining ground on the cars ahead, the gaps closing with every lap. 

A Red Bull appeared ahead, its familiar livery standing out against the asphalt. A crackle of static brought your race engineer's voice to life over the radio: "Verstappen ahead". His firm tone coupled with a tint of urgency, almost a warning. 

The Dutchman was struggling, clearly executing a different strategy while others succumbed to a change of tires. His car was losing grip with every corner, the acrid scent of burnt rubber lingering in the air as your opportunities of overtaking loomed closer and closer. 

Adrenaline surged through you as you moved forward. Max wasn’t your main rival today —he’d undoubtedly regain his pace after a pit stop, surging with a speed you couldn’t even hope to match. But you needed the few seconds you could grab on the nearly empty track. 

With pacience and a clean pass, you’d be on your way.

You line up your move. DRS wide open, your car gaining on his down the straight. It was a textbook overtaking maneuver: inside line into the braking zone, clean, fast, and decisive. But Max, being Max, wasn’t going to let anyone by without a fight.

He moves just enough to defend, squeezing you towards the inside of the track. Not illegal, but aggressive, forcing you to brake. Just a little.

Still, you hold your ground, refusing to back off as the story repeats itself –if only with a bit more space to move. 

There comes the corner. It’s tight, both of you pushing each other to the absolute limit. For a split second, you are wheel to wheel, you're car surging forward. And just when you think you’ve made it past, it happens.

A small touch, barely enough to register, but at these speeds, it is all it takes.

Your rear end twitches, your car snaps sideways, and before you can react, you’re spinning off the track. 

“No, no, no!” you shouted into the radio as the car slides off track and into the gravel, the engine dying and every warnings in the book flashing on the steering wheel. Race over.  

Yet again, your gaze locks on the Red Bull in the distance, but this time as it rolls out of your field of view. 

“Are you okay?” came the concerned voice from the pit wall. 

“Yeah,” you muttered, already climbing unfastening the harness, trying your best to push down the surge of frustration. Another DNF. Another race ruined. 

The walk back to the garage is a haze of exhaustion and anger. It all hits you at once. Not just the race, everything. The months of pressure, the crash, the constant questions, and now, this.

By the time you reach your driver’s room, you can only collapse into the sofa. Still in your race suit, helmet discarded. You eyes fix into a point in the wall, every second of the race over and over passing like a horror movie. Trapping you on it. 

A knock on the door breaks your thoughts after a while. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been sitting there. 

“Hey…” 

The voice is soft, almost hesitant, but unmistakable.  

You glance up through blurry vision, blinking in surprise when you confirm your suspicions. Max is standing there, awkwardly leaning in the doorway. He isn’t in his race suit anymore, dressed down in a hoodie and jeans, looking more like some random guy than the potential next world champion. Clearly, he had come after things had settled, hoping not to attract attention. 

The race must have ended already, the post-race conference too. You are glad to have finished your interviews before heading back to the garage. 

You sigh, too tired to even muster anger. “Max, it’s okay,” you say, the exhaustion seeping into your voice. “I don’t want to talk about it. You can go.” 

Max stands there for a second, as if weighing his options. You half-expect him to launch into some explanation, to try and defend what happened on track, but he doesn’t. He’s learned as much. Instead, he steps forward, quietly placing something on the table beside you —a small bag of candy. 

For a moment, you are confused, your mind too fogged to register the gesture. But suddenly, it clicks. Your mind flashes back to years ago, when you were both still clawing your way up the ranks. Max, already on his meteoric rise, and you, still fighting your way up. 

Victoria’s smile shines brightly in your memory. Her full cheeks and radiant aura would light up your day as she brought little treats to ease the tension when things went awry. It was normal, you would go toe to toe against the boys, some twice your size, both on and off the track without a care in the world.  

The competition was fierce, but so were you. 

You and Victoria would often find solace away from the prying eyes and relentless pressure, chatting about everything and nothing as you stuffed your mouth with gummies. Back then, those sweet candies were more than just a sugary distraction, they were a reminder of the warmth and encouragement that surrounded you amid the intense battle for the victory 

In those early days, Max had been more of a shadow on the periphery of your racing life. Your interactions with him were fleeting—brief greetings exchanged in the pit lane or terse words during on-track incidents. He was a quiet kid, focused on his future and nothing else. 

But as you look at the small bag of candy on the table, a new question surfaced in your mind. Had Max noticed those sweet moments with his sister? Seen your younger self as the laughter mingled with tears over those simple, yet comforting, treats? 

While the nostalgia washed over you, a sense of empathy began to emerge. Max’s gesture, though simple, carried a depth of understanding that you hadn’t anticipated. Now, here he is, all those years later, standing in your driver’s room after a crash and offering peace though candy. 

You take a deep breath, the tension of the harsh season and the DNF felt heavy, but his silent apology softened the edges of your frustration. If only a little. 

Without uttering a word, Max gives you a faint smile and quietly turns to leave.  

And for now, that is all you need. 

Months later, everything feels different, yet somehow familiar. The paddock is alive, roaring with the sounds of celebration, laughter, and the rush of an unforgettable season. The final race has come to an end and the highs and lows of the season hang in the air like the last whispers of a storm 

You find yourself moving through the chaos —staff, photographers, and fans all clamoring for a piece of the moment. Your heart swelling with pride as you saw the joy on his face, the weight of months of pressure and competition lifting as he basks in the victory. The World Champion. 

“Congrats, Lewis!” you shout, your voice barely cutting through the cacophony of cheers and fireworks exploding in the distance. He grins, pulling you into a hug. The cameras are snapping away but, for once, you don’t care. 

You step back, giving him a playful shove towards his team, watching as he disappears into the throng of engineers and mechanics. The confetti starts to fall, the air shimmering with silver and gold as fireworks burst above. Lewis collapses into his team, arms raised in victory, and it’s a scene you know will be replayed everywhere for years to come. 

The ending ceremony and final interviews come and go in a blur—everyone’s thoughts about the season, the excitement, and exhaustion all blending into one. The adrenaline is fading, leaving a strange, peaceful silence in its wake. 

Slipping away from the noise, you head back to your driver’s room. The door closes behind you, and for the first time in hours, the world is still. You peel off your race suit, changing into something more comfortable, savoring the moment of peace. Outside, the paddock slowly quiets as the celebration winds down, leaving behind only the hum of the circuit at rest. 

You decide to step out onto the pit lane one last time, onto the long shadows casted by the lights and the soft breeze that stirs the warms air of Abu Dhabi. Only a couple marshals and mechanics are still working and talking outside. The night is settling in, and you take a deep breath, taking it all in. 

That’s when you see Max. 

He’s standing near the edge of the pit lane, still in his race suit, though the top half hangs loose around his waist, leaving only the fireproofs underneath. His face is cast in a soft light, the tension of the race gone, but a lingering weight still present. He doesn’t notice you at first, his gaze somewhere far away, lost in thought. 

You hesitate, unsure if you should approach. The rivalry, the tension between you two—it’s all been part of the narrative this season. But something in the way he stands there alone, in the quiet aftermath of the race, pulls you forward. 

“Hey,” you say softly, breaking the silence. 

Max glances up, surprised to see you. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes —surprise, maybe relief? He gives a small nod. “Hey.” 

You shift awkwardly, leaning against the wall next to him. The weight of the season and everything that came with it lingers in the air. "I, uh… just wanted to say congrats," you finally manage, your voice tentative. 

Max raises an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “For what?” 

“You know, you're the—" you begin, though you don't get time to fully voice your thoughts.

“The first loser? Yeah”  

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Oh, shut up! I meant the runner-up,” you correct, giving him a light slap on the shoulder. 

“I guess.” He shrugs, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He looks out at the grandstands, his voice quieter now, the weight of the season clearly pressing on him. “Feels like the first loser to me.” 

“How could that ever be the first loser? I’m the first loser,” you quip, half-joking although the events of the season hang heavy on your mind “Got a couple of points and went home.” 

Max opens his mouth to correct you, but you quickly shoot him a look —one that says, see?— daring him to argue. He catches your meaning and closes his mouth again, letting out a soft sigh instead, though his eyes shows that he disagrees. 

A beat of silence passes before you speak again, quieter this time. “I know one day you’re going to win so much, you’ll get bored of it.” 

Max looks down, his expression hard to read. There’s no smirk, no witty comeback. Just a silence that stretches between you. He kicks at a pebble on the ground, then after a while, glances back up. 

“Know anything about next year?” he asks, his voice low. Despite all the rumours swirling around the paddock, no one really knows what's going to happen with the Haas lineup. Contracts hang in limbo, as do the futures of several drivers.  

"Yeah, Mick’s out…” you sigh, looking down at your feet “and I’m probably next." 

Max shakes his head almost immediately, a frown forming on his face “I don’t think so, you did well this year.” 

“Yeah, well… at the back of the grid,” you reply, the words slipping out with a bitter edge. 

He looks at you seriously “You have to know what car you have. You did more than enough this year, got your first points, even. Nobody expected that.” 

You huff out a small laugh, but there's no real joy in it. "I'm a headache, Max. You’ve all seen that. I have to know what team I'm in, they can’t risk it" you repeat his words back at him, eyebrows knitted in discomfort. 

Max goes quiet, his gaze fixed on the ground in front of him. The weight of your uncertainty seems to settle between you, an invisible burden neither of you can shake off easily. After a beat, the Red Bull driver stands upright, and silently invite you to walk back to the garages with a tilt of his head. 

“So, are you going to Lewis' party?” 

You hesitate, unsure.

“I don’t know yet,” you admit. While part of you wants to go and live what could be your last moments in this bubble, another part just wants to finally hide from the noise that’s been suffocating you all season.  

You clearly have not gotten used to this, and now you probably won’t ever. 

Reaching the door to his garage, Max studies you for a moment as he leans on the wall, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, if you feel like it, you should come to the first loser’s party.” 

You blink, caught off guard, a grin creeping into your face despite yourself.

“Again with the first loser?" you shake your head, Max simply shrugs.

He shrugs, the faint glint in his eyes reflecting the lights of the pit lane. “Well, not everyone can be the winner.” His voice is gentler now, expecting your exasperated sigh, and he smirks “At least, I’ve got pretty eyes.” 

“Oh, please,” you scoff, though a smile manages to break through as you give a light shove to his shoulder. That video was clearly a bad idea, he doesn't need his ego any more boosted “You’re such an asshole.” 

Max doesn’t flinch, his smirk growing wider. His gaze lingers on you for a beat longer than necessary, and in that quiet moment, the circuit seemed to fall even more silent, as though the world around you both stilled.  

And, before you can think twice about it, you whisper the words “But yeah, you sure do”. 

Part 2 (final): First Winners | MV33

Author's note: this has been in my drafts for ages, didn't even have a title, just stupid to lovers so I guess that explains a lot. This idea was also supposed to be part of If I lose my mind but I just had to many things in my head. Hope you liked it, its my first time writing for Max so that's that.

Thanks a lot for reading! And, as always, any kind of interaction is greatly apreciated.

[rkivedpages]

❝ KISSES DOWN LOW ❞ ୨୧ SEVIKA

‎ﻬ˚౨ৎ BUT NOTHING CAN COMPARE TO WHEN YOU KISS ME THERE

‎ ﻬ˚౨ৎ AND I CAN’T LIE WHEN I LIE IN YOUR ARMS, BABY I FEEL SO SEXY

‎

PAIRINGS: TOP!SEVIKA ✘ BROTHELWORKER!R

SUMMARY: sevika is tired from a long week of work and she just needs to see the person that helps her blow off steam.

WARNINGS: 4.9k, [contains nsfw wlw content, m+mdni 18+], brothelworker!reader, black coded, smut, vulgar language, dirty talk, oral sex [both receiving], fingering [both receiving], sevika loves your boobs, clit slapping [𝑟!receiving], tribbing, creaming, neck biting and kissing, heavy eye contact, messy kissing, spit, nipple sucking, cuddling afterwards

J4Y SPEAKS — we needed this brothel scene in arcane..it was my treat.

wanna be tagged? welcome to j4y’s taglist!

‎ﻬ˚౨ৎ sevika rolled her neck around, hearing the cracks of her bones popping amongst the many people passing by while she stayed still. boot-covered feet splashed in the murky water puddles that took home in the uneven streets, you could hear the many food vendors cooking up whatever they were selling to the customers. sounds of the chewing of the food, slurping of the soups and liquids echoed through sevika’s ears.

the many sounds were tuned out of her head as her cape flowed in the cool air as the people passed her by, wondering why such a woman would be in this part of town. though it is what she knows. it’s her home, the place she grew up in. her darkened silver eyes hooded by her deeply furrowed eyebrows, she peered at the building that stood in front of her, across the busy street. it was something familiar to her, a place she’s seen ever so often if you’d ask her, but if you asked the people that walked the building’s floors—they’d tell you they’ve seen sevika so many times in a week.

she continued across the street, not paying attention to the many things happening around her, not even the people trying to sell her things.

sevika made her way to the building, watching it get larger in size the closer she stepped towards it. she cleared her throat and sniffed a bit before noticing the few women littering the corners of where she knew the people knew her very well. they began to puff y

on their cigarettes, blowing the toxic air into the already hazardous air supply that plagued the tough city. not only did the women watch her saunter in and notice her hips twisting with a purpose, they noticed the look on her face, one they’ve seen many times before.

“ugh, she’s so lucky.”

“nobody in zaun could get me to explain what i’d do to that woman.”

“ 𝜗𝜚 doesn’t deserve such a woman like that.”

the women scanned her body, getting worked up from just looking at her thighs and the visible muscle tone on her right arm, crossing their legs and continued to smoke down their cigarettes.

her ears perked up with the things the women were spewing about her, saying that they could do the things her heart desired. she could only chuckle as her large hands peeled back the large detailed door that opened up to the place she would kill to be in over and over again. the feathers and beads strung from the ceiling, the dark red curtains hanging from the curtains in the corners of the rooms she prance into, her eyes set on the desk in the waiting room. her hands balled and unballed, looking at her surroundings before perring down at the person standing behind the edge of the metal desk who was too busy staring down at a nudy magazine in his hands to notice sevika’s large frame.

half of her body covered by her darkened red cape, a peek of her toned stomach showing from the cropped shirt she sported. sevika cleared her throat, moving her flesh arm to retrieve a sack of money from her back pocket, plopping it down on the surface of the desk to grab the attention of the attendant. dark eyebrows furrowed even more when he moved his eyes only to see who was in front of him. he perked up really quickly, his eyes widening at sevika towering over his small physique.

“s-she said you don’t have to pay anymore.” he stuttered, pushing the sack of coins back towards sevika. her eyebrows finally softened since she’s walked into the place as she reached for the money, taking it in her soft hand again, grunting.

her boots clicked against the floor, the coins in the bag scraped up against each other while she twisted her arm to place it back in her pocket. still, her cape flowed in the air filling the building as sevika made her way to the room she’s seen a thousand times. one more look around at her surroundings, sevika slipped through the soft curtains that hung in front of the doorway, sniffing the burning incense that produced slow smoke. the deep umber smell covered her, sevika’s body relaxed a bit as the incense crammed her nose.

for the first time of the week, sevika’s eyebrows relaxed, finally unfurrowing until they straightened out on her forehead. her hand fell from the ball at her side, the mechanical sounds from her tech arm hiding underneath the cape ticked and the gears moved around.

sevika walked around the table covered in fruit, foods and other assortments that made her stomach rumble a bit. she quickly tore the cape from around her neck, flinging the piece of fabric onto the arm of the couch just before her ass hit the plush couch cushions. resting her arms over the top of the couch.

the mechanical fingers on her left arm tapped the material with impatience.

only a couple of minutes had passed since she walked into the building and sat down in the all too familiar room. peering around the decorated space, the things covering the walls and the touch of your presence was made known. sevika felt a little more at ease just seeing the things that you’ve touched littering the room you own in the building. she fell deeper into the couch cushions, adjusting her hips numerous times, her fleshy fingers digging further into the soft item.

her patience was very low when it came to you.

when she came, she expected you to be in the room already waiting for her. maybe even waiting on your knees, looking so pretty as always as soon as she walks through the curtains.

but, this has been the first time since she started seeing you that she was the first one in the room, and she needs you to be in here.

now.

when sevika first began to see you, it would be a week maybe even a couple of days before she saw you again. then, you did such a big number on her that sevika realized that she couldn’t go more than two days without coming to visit you. it started off as a week, then it went to three days, then fell into every night. if she was feeling a bit alone, she’d come to see you twice a day. but ever since silco had her under his hold, the visits became even more sparse, last week had been the longest it’s been since she’s seen your face.

sevika threw her head back against the couch, her fingers balling up the cushions and releasing it, over and over again. her eyes closed with anticipation, growing more and more impatient by the second. she mindlessly reached in front of her, grabbing one of the many fruits that sat on top of the table and pushing it past her dark lips. the flavors danced on her tongue, swirling over them inside of her cheeks, she moaned just a little bit. overly missing the flavors from a week ago.

“you look tired.”

you voice spilled into her ears, like chocolate spreading on a fresh strawberry. sevika lifted her head up, slowly opening her eyes to see you wrapped in a finely made robe, a small bit of fur lining the ends of each opening. finishing up the food that was in her mouth and quickly swallowing it. her chest heaved some, repositioning her hips in her seat.

sevika cleared her throat, mentally rolling her eyes at the fact that it should be obvious. “i am tired. why do you think i’m here?”

you pushed away from the closed curtains, making your way towards the couch with an irritated look on your face. sitting down on a cushion away from her, you grabbed a piece of fruit to pop in your mouth and leaned back to cross your leg over the other. you shook your head a bit, chewing the fruit and clutching at the opening of your robe. rolling your eyes and moving your leg side to side. sevika sighed, realizing that whatever goes on at work shouldn’t be taken out on you.

“i…i’m sorry. i’m just really, really tired.” she reached over to rub at the exposed skin on your thigh with her metal hand as you looked at her again. huffing and puffing you gave her a little smile knowing that she is really exhausted when she arrives to see you. so you have to let it go sometimes, if she doesn’t get too rude. she rubbed her mechanical pinky against your thigh, brushing away your robe a bit to touch more of your skin, though she couldn’t feel it.

sevika snaked her arms around your waist, pulling you into her lap and resting your thighs on either side of her hips. she couldn’t take her eyes off of the fact you had nothing covering your chest. no bra, no shirt, no nothing. the robe peeled open a bit, revealing the soft cleavage you wanted her to see.

her mouth watered at the sight of your boobs, nipples becoming hard under the silky material from the rushing wind coming from outside the room. she gulped down the lingering taste of the fruit that was in her mouth. both hands, mechanical and flesh, rubbed the skin on your thighs, digging her fingers into your own flesh. remembering how soft you were from a week ago that she saw you again.

a shudder ran down your spine from the mere two seconds you made eye contact with sevika, her silver eyes burning into yours, never once looking away until she saw fit.

you’ve looked into her eyes many times before, but every time you did, it still felt like the first time she walked into your room. just wanting to relax.

her stare made you wet in the little piece of clothing you had on, pooling through your painties and probably painting the pants she wore. sevika moved you higher up on her lap, her hands now resting on your ass just to move the robe some, watching as the silk opened up more to brush over your chest. sevika took her bottom lip in between her teeth, adjusting her hips underneath you, feeling like she could explode. she pushed on your back, pushing your chest closer to her mouth. her lips parted, ready to have your nipple resting in her mouth. you sucked in a sharp breath when you felt her tongue touch your nipple first, swirling it around the tip just to watch your face contort. her eyes couldn’t tear away from your face, watching your eyebrows knit together. sevika pulled away, with a sound off pop. you rubbed your hands over her clothed chest and up her neck to push her attention to your face. “did you miss me?”

you started grinding over her pants, heavily breathing at the feeling. she groaned at your little sounds, nodding her head at your question, but hating that you started to move backwards on her lap. as you could see the disappointment written all over her face and the little whine in her throat. “be patient, sev. you haven’t seen me in a week.”

sevika then sighed, her eyebrows rested when she felt your hands starting to work at the sturdy belt twisting through the loops in her pants. unbuckling the buckle and pulling the belt from the loops, you dropped it on the floor. you then reached for the button on her pants, not knowing she spotted the wet patch that you’ve made a little bit ago. “by the looks of it, you missed me too.”

you looked down at her and then down at the spot over her lap, a little embarrassed that she saw and hoping that she wouldn’t see the one you made on her thigh. brushing it off, you reached for the extravagant buttons on her cropped shirt she wore as sevika rubbed higher up your back. “how much did you miss me?”

there was a lump in your throat when she looked up at you, a mixture of neediness and want filled her eyes when she first got you on her lap. now, that look is filled with more want than ever. you hands still popping the buttons on her shirt and busting it open to see the wraps that usually bound her chest were not there tonight. a shudder ran down your spine, with her hands still caressing your skin, but her hands growing heavier and heavier by the second you didn’t give her an answer.

“a lot, sev.”

the right side of her mouth perked up into a smirk. a quick look down and sevika was drooling at your slightly exposed nipple, reaching up to swipe the robe off your shoulder. the sounds of her mechanical arm came into play as it moved in the comfortable silence while she looked you up and down. “so much that you can’t wait to taste me again?”

you whined when sevika whispered to you, the tip of her mechanical finger rubbing over your nipple. “yes, sev.”

throwing your head back, sevika took the opportunity to latch her lips onto the side of your neck, dropping spit over your skin and you threaded your fingers in the hanging hair on her head. she pulled back, bouncing against the couch to let you slip off of her lap and onto the floor on your knees. the zipper being pulled down on your way before you hooked your fingers in her waistband. sevika lifted her hips from the cushions to allow you to do the rest of the work of undressing her. the pants reached her knees just as she moved her upper body forwards to tease her dark lips over yours, finally after mere seconds she rested them against your lips harshly. quickly, going to slip her tongue past the opening of yours.

just as she was attacking you with her thick tongue, sevika was slipping her pants the rest of the way down her calves to the top of her boots. forcing the rest of her clothes off of her body, the thud of her hard shoes hitting the floor rung in your ears. her hands slithered around your jaw, both resting on the back of your head while her mouth bruised yours. sevika pulled herself away from you, she licked her lips to just remember the taste of you. she went back to resting her back against the couch again, spreading her thighs to allow you to see her glistening pussy. “go ahead, doll.”

you rested your arms over her thighs, mouth watering at the sight of a week of her being untouched and mindlessly licking your lips. your hands slid towards her inner thighs, close to where the heat emitted from her aching cunt. sevika moved herself closer to the edge of the couch when she saw the hunger fill your eyes. her hand rested on the back of your neck, bringing you closer as you flattened out your tongue to lick up from her clenching hole to her clit. a breathy sigh left from sevika’s lips, her mechanical fingertips dipping into the couch. you wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking softly to earn a buck from her hips against your face.

sevika huffed, gathering all of your hair in the palm of her hand, her fingers wrapping around like a ponytail holder. her hips began to rut at your mouth, her juices rubbing all over the bottom half of your face and rolling down your chin to reach your chest. she pulled your back just to see how much she covered you and to grow even more horny at the sight of her dripping over your bare boobs. your eyes pleaded with her to let you finish and she smirked again, realizing that you wanted it. “you like when i treat you like a slut, don’t you?”

she pushed your face against her pussy again, your tongue rubbing against her clit and hand creeping up to let your fingers make out how much she leaked from having you on your knees and face mushed in between her legs. your own cunt dripped with her words mixed with the euphoric taste of hers, you could help but to grind over the heel of your foot to relieve some of the pressure on your clit. sevika could feel you bouncing and moving under her, she looked down to see your eyes glued to her face and eyebrows screwed together. “you do. you like it when i treat you like this, you nasty girl.”

your face washed over with relief somehow, sevika getting a little more rougher with her ruts, her teeth gritting together and her breath picked up. it grew ragged, your fingers dipped in her hole, slipping in easily due to the slipperiness. sevika clenched on your middle and ring finger as it pumped slowly in and out with the feeling of your swollen lips wrapped around her clit. “ugh, fuck-you’re so good to me, doll.”

sevika’s breath shaky, her head rolling back to rest on the top of the couch. her mechanical arm grasping at the couch as her thighs were threatening to shut around your head. the openings of her shirt flailed around, her tits bounced a little bit.

she couldn’t do it anymore, she needed to taste you.

sevika popped your head off of her, pulling you away from her to glance at the news she’s made of you. she stood up from the couch, pulling you up with her to stand you up from your knees. before you knew it, her hands were all over you again, her lips covering yours and tasting herself off of your lips and chin. she reached up to slip the rest of the robe off of your shoulders. now slipping her thick fingers under the band of your panties, pushing them down your thighs with her mouth still attached to you. sevika turned the two of you around, you towards the couch before she pushed you over it, watching your body bounce before she dipped her knee into the cushion.

“a week. i’ve been waiting a week to taste you again,” her arms set on either side of your head, you reaching up to grab at the flaps of her open shirt. sevika began to push herself further down your body, placing open mouth kisses over your soft skin and witnessing your thighs pressing together. she then reached the place you needed her mouth most. “i don’t think i’ll stop.”

she rested on her knees, pulling your legs up from the couch and resting on her shoulders while she laid her body flat over the rest of the couch. sevika pulled your body closer to her mouth, hungry at what was to come. then proceeded to push your legs up off of her shoulders, sliding her hands underneath your bended knees, pinching the little bit of skin to distract you from the feeling of her warm tongue rolling over your drenched cunt. a deep, guttural groan emitted from her lips from the small but long lick, the vibration going right through you. you latched onto her arms, hoping to hang on for the ride as her face got deeper, drowning in your leaking juices.

the mechanical sounds of her gripping fingers and the sloshing of her tongue swiping over your wet folds filled the room, hitting and bouncing off every wall of it. sevika’s grip wrapped tighter, her hold pinched your hot skin while her moved side to side. both of her hands released from their tight grip, the slight red marks left as a result as sevika repositioned to different spots on your body. the warming touch of her copper hand wrapped around your boob, twisting your nipple around and squeezing hard enough to where it was enjoyable for you. her lips still brushing your clit when you felt the thick stretch of her two fingers pressing through your hole, already knowing you were on edge. “oh, baby, you taste s’good. clenching my fingers like the slut you are.”

the walls couldn’t stop the throaty moan you let out, already knowing the people outside could hear what was happening in the room. you held onto the metal reaching over your torso and fondling your tit as her fingers sped up, making you bounce as she pressed against your spongy walls. “sev-!”

“what, baby?” her silver eyes peered up at you, her pussy leaking over the couch cushions just at the look of your face mixing with the taste of your own.

her eyes bored into you, her fingers pumped harder and her lips sucked harder. sevika looked down for a bit to witness the white ring forming at the base of her two fingers. “fuck.”

a muffled word came out of her mouth, so infatuated with your sounds, your taste — you. the grip, once again, grew tighter around your bruised tit, her arm holding you down in your place. you hands weaved through her black and short hair, messing it up and reaching the small ponytail on the back of her head, pulling on the rubber band. releasing her pulled back hair into her face.

“please, sev!” sevika pulled from your clit, looking at you through the strands of hair as her fingers continued to pump and slosh your wetness around.

“what? you wanna cum?” she smashed her lips against your inner thigh, sucking and biting in random spots on your skin. “you can take it.”

“i can’t!” you tried squirming, tried to pull your body away from sevika’s mouth and fast fingering. your toes curling in the air and your eyes screwed shut, your hands everywhere.

“yes you can.” her tongue licking the bitten spots on your thigh, smirking at your whining.

you could feel her fingers at the bottom of your stomach, tempting your body to cum all over her fingers. just as you could feel the build up, sevika slipped her fingers out of you, her metal hand still wrapped around your red tit. your eyes popped open, whipping your head down to see what she was doing. sevika slithered her tongue around her own fingers, heavy breathing at the sweet taste of your wanna be cum covering her fingers and making sure each finger was sucked clean. you just watched her get up on her knees again, pushing her hair back from her eyes and shaking the open shirt from her shoulders, letting it drop over the edge of the couch. you saw where the metal met her flesh, her dark nipples hardening under the air, her very toned abdomen tight with muscle and glistening sweat.

the sight filled your mouth with drool, sevika fully naked in front of you — it was a rare sight and you didn’t want it to end.

sevika crawled over your body, dropping down some to ghost her weight over yours, her nipples traced your own, a little whine spilling past your lips. sevika dropped kisses over your face, over your cheeks, over your chin before reaching your swollen lips. her hand slipped under the back of your neck to deepen the kiss she slipped you into, smacking and exchanging groans between the two of you. saliva covered your lips, even some in your chin from how messily sevika kissed you, covering your tongue with the remnants of you on her tongue and lips. you rested your legs over her hips, rubbing one of your hands over her back, drowning in the mesmerizing sensation of her mouth in yours.

feelings sevika spread her legs a bit, she dug her knees into the cushions below, feeling you gasp with her mouth still on yours when she rested her puffy clit against yours. shuddering as she laid her body weight on you, now her hand tangled in your hair and the metal entangled with your free hand.

sevika pulled away, looking your face over as she tutted her hips, grinding your clit together and watching your face. your eyebrows slanted, a look of tenderness filled her eyes as she looked at you but disappeared as soon she rutted again. another rutt and a grip on your hair tightened around her fingers, her hips found a steady speed, grinding in between yours. “shit.”

the dripping wetness flowed down sevika’s cunt, over your folds just indicating how wet she actually was. sevika rested her face in the crook of your neck, opening her mouth to nip her teeth at the skin. your back arched into her, opening your legs more to feel even more of sevika humping away. unbeknownst to you, sevika’s face contorted and twisted up at the pleasure of feeling your clit against hers.

“fuck, sev.” your voice above a whisper, your nails digging into her skin and scratching down towards her bare ass. you could feel the simultaneous bucking of both of yours hips smashing together as sevika grew tired of the slower movements.

her mechanical arm worked overtime, the fingers wrapping tighter around your own just so she could stay grounded of course. in your ear, sevika’s grunts turned into deep moans, almost overshadowing the ones you belted out. you opened your eyes multiple times, but all you could see was stats and little white dots in your vision made you dizzy. you tried desperately to claw at any and everything on sevika’s body that you could reach.

“sev, harder!”

she smirked in neck, grounding her knees into the couch once more and hardened up her grip on both the back of your neck and your hand. your legs rested and dangled on her hips, toes curling at the long awaited sensation. more of sevika dripped down your pussy, mixing with the wetness of yours. “harder, you say?”

“yes please.” it was almost like she took your breath away, you couldn’t talk too loudly but those moans you provided said otherwise.

your eyes popped open when sevika’s grind slipped your clits together even harder, letting you feel the tight ball that formed in your stomach. then, your toes uncurled, needing to feel the couch underneath them, you set one of your legs down. still bent at the knee, your leg cramped just to keep up with hoe sevika was fucking you into the cushions. “ah-shit, i’m gonna cum.”

the hand that held onto sevika perked up, rushing your fingers through her loose hair and to bring her face closer to yours so you could witness the expressions she made. the black hair on her head fell into her face, still able to see your beautiful face through the threads. she dropped her head down, craning her neck to press her lips over yours again, both of you mumbling and moaning incoherents into each other’s mouths.

“cum with me, baby.” you nodded against her, mouth open wide to let the whines slip out.

sevika’s hips wouldn’t stop at nothing to say the least. she wanted to make sure you were right there with her. you couldn’t handle it anymore when she continued to slip her wetness around with you. your hips bucked up, contributing to the pleasure for both of you. your stomach grew tighter with your release and you didn’t want to hold it anymore. “sevika. . .”

“go ahead, i’m right b-behind you.” her eyes, again, bored into yours with so much lust it was crazy. you knotted your eyebrows together just as she did the same thing as she knew you were both about to cum.

there was a flash of white with the last buck of sevika’s hips, going straight to your head. her guttural moan filled the room, intertwining with yours while you released a high pitched pleasure-filled scream. her hips slowed in movement, while yours continued to buck at the sensitivity of your puffy, swollen fucked-out clit. sevika dipped her head back down, covering your lips and face in more hot kisses before dropping her complete weight over you.

your hands threaded through her hair, brushing it out of her face as her eyes fluttered shut, her head rubbing against your chest.

you shared the intense silence. the room is stuffy and sweaty, and sevika nustling away at the warmth of you.

“you don’t want me to pay you anymore?”

your lips tightened, knowing she was going to bring this up, you shook your head side to side while your eyes almost dared to close. “why not?”

shoulders shrugging, “i don’t think you need to.”

sevika’s eyes opened for a moment, looking over the parts of your body that she could see without moving her head. blinking a couple of times, she pursued her lips out, kissing the tender skin on your boob before sneaking her right arm under you to keep you pressed to hers. “okay.”

© rkivedpages. j4y’s works are all reserved. i do not give permission to have my works copied or published on any other sites under any other names but mine.

[eclips-moon]

The batboys and what I think there love languages would be

Dick Grayson (Nightwing) – Physical Touch & Words of Affirmation

Dick is all about the cuddles. Like, he’ll randomly grab your hand, hug you out of nowhere, or throw his arm around you because he just needs that connection. He’ll probably sneak in forehead kisses whenever you’re not looking and loves wrapping you up in his arms, especially after a long day. Physical touch is just how he shows love—he’s a total cuddle bug.

And then there’s words of affirmation. This dude cannot stop hyping you up. He’s always telling you how awesome you are, how proud he is, and that you’re basically the best thing ever. Expect random “I love you” texts throughout the day or little notes hidden around, just reminding you how much you mean to him. He’s got a lot of love to give, and he’s not shy about it.

Jason Todd (Red Hood) – Acts of Service & Quality Time

Jason’s not big on talking about his feelings, but he shows his love by doing stuff for you. He’ll bring you coffee just the way you like it, fix that thing in your place that’s been broken forever, or low-key look out for you in ways you don’t even notice at first. He’s like, “I’m not gonna say it, but I’m gonna do it so you know I care.”

He’s also big on quality time. Jason doesn’t need anything fancy—he’s happiest when it’s just you two hanging out, maybe binge-watching something or reading together. He’s not into big crowds or loud events, so quiet moments are where he feels most connected. Just having you there, chilling by his side, is more than enough for him.

Tim Drake (Red Robin) – Quality Time & Words of Affirmation

Tim’s all about that quality time. He’s constantly busy with work or missions, but when he’s with you, he’s present. Whether you’re gaming, working on something together, or just talking about random stuff at 2 a.m., he loves spending time with you. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, as long as you’re together.

Words of affirmation are also his thing. He’s not super sappy, but when he does compliment you or tell you he loves you, it’s always thoughtful and meaningful. He’s the type to casually drop a compliment in the middle of a conversation that makes you feel seen, and he always knows exactly what to say when you need a little boost.

Damian Wayne (Robin) – Acts of Service & Gift-Giving

Damian’s not the most vocal about feelings either , but he’s also the type to do things for you to show he cares. Whether it’s helping you train, handling things behind the scenes, or always having your back in a fight, his love comes through in his actions. He might act all tough, but he’s always looking out for you.

He’s also super into gift-giving. Damian’s gifts aren’t random—they’re always something with meaning, like a book you mentioned months ago or something that reminds him of a moment you shared. He’s super thoughtful about it, and his gifts are always on point because he pays attention to the little things. It’s his sneaky way of saying, “I care about you.”

[ive-been-timebombed]

Part one

Danny is the daddy! And king- same thing.

Summoning rituals are the absolute worst. It happens too often and always ends up with one too many bruises.

Red Hood shifted on his knees and pulled at the rope that held his arms behind his back. He looked to Nightwing who was to the right of him in a similar situation only with more rope and tighter knots, he kept escaping so the cultists improvised. Red Hood looked back to the main excitement in the room and rolled his eyes at the idiotic scene.

A big circle of intricate lines and displays of many items. There were five displays, which Jason can only assume were offerings, one had a bag of food that looked similar to batburger. The second had what looked like a child’s school project on the solar system. The third held a map and a.. baby’s doll.? Jesus, what is this idiot summoning? The fourth was of a bright green liquid... Lazarus Pits? It was brighter than the actual pits and looked cleaner. Not to mention the bubbling was also missing from the vile of the pits. The last was a plant and a bag of sand... Jason gave up on trying to understand whatever the hell the fugly dude was trying to summon.

Speaking of.. the man that was scurrying around the circle looking at it making sure everything was good. He looked insane, with almost bright blue skin, black hair, and cultist-type robes. Not to mention the slight transparency of the man. Jason decided his name was gonna be Wickham.

“Oh finally! I’ll get to summon my king to this blasted world” Wickham stepped back from his summoning circle with a wicked grin, “If only my king didn’t have such strange needs to be summoned..” Wickham looked over to the vigilantes and moved in front of them his hands folding behind his back

“I guess you guys don’t know what I’m summoning do y’all?” Oh great.. he’s about to go on a rant.. “Don’t worry! You’ll find out soon!” Wickham turned to his circle again and stood in front of it. He got down to his knees bowing his head and bringing his hands together. He started to speak, a language Jason had never heard, and by the sounds of it neither had Dick.

The circle started to glow the Lazarus green. Jason felt like he couldn’t breathe. The weight of the ritual was suffocating, and despite feeling like he could grasp Wickham's words, they remained nonsensical.

Strangely enough, Jason couldn’t understand what he was feeling. It felt like longing for something that he never had.. like a warm hug from his father, Willis. He could feel excitement and yearning for the green to overcome the room and cover him in the comfort of.. the distant memory of singing and the cold of a rooftop.

_______________

Despite what many had assumed of Danny, he quite enjoyed the summonings. They weren’t too often and gave him an excuse to leave his boring meetings. When he felt the pull of a summons he grinned and waved to the idiot ghosts that were arguing in front of him and disappeared.

He opened his eyes seeing the usual scene of his summonings.. ignoring the strangely dressed mortals that were tied up near the wall.

“King of the Infinite Realms, Ancient of space and the unknown, Defeater of Pariah Dark, Honored of the Far Frozen, Knight of-“ The summoner listed off. Danny sighed he should really get rid of most of the titles..

“Blah- Blah- Blah. What do you want, Mortal..”Danny asked looking down at the summoner and hesitated at the end seeing the slight transparency of him..

The summoner stopped speaking and bowed further to the ground, “My King! I ask that you cleanse this cursed world and take it for your own! With me as your trust-“ Danny once again interrupted

“I’m good, already own this dimension. It’s only one of the infinite-“ Danny groaned before he froze.. this dimension.. it was his home dimension. The very same he was born in and dead. The same he protected with his undead life when ghosts invaded his town.. The same he left his child in to live in..

“My liege?” The summoner spoke up hesitantly glancing up at the halfa.

Danny didn’t bother to acknowledge the mortal. He was to distracted by the small very similar essence to his own only a few steps away. He looked to the tied up mortals and stared at the one that had a red helmet. The red helmet stared back his core begging for help and the support of its paternal core essence.

When Danny was first introduced to the idea of being king he was put in lessons by the many leaders around the realms. First was with Frostbite, the Leader of the Far Frozen, who taught him the biology and science behind ghost. Embarrassingly, he also had to sit through the sex talk once again. But from what he was taught when a ghost has a child or Ling short for Ghostling. That Ling would be connected to its parents or parent for ectoplasm as it would be to young to absorb ectoplasm on its own. The steady stream of ectoplasm would be used to power the young ghostlings core and nurture it to start absorbing ectoplasm on its own. The connection also helped the parent when they needed the location of their ling or just wanted to check up on them. The connection was like a cellphone that only connected to the child to the parent. It told them the location, needs, even if the Ling needed extra ectoplasm. It could be used for a call to come or even a scream for help.

When Danny was younger he had a kid.. the baby was an accident that he didn’t know about till it was left on his doorstep with a letter saying it was his. He called the kid his Baby JayJay short for Jason. He couldn’t feel a core inside the child so he assumed that Jay didn’t inherit his ghostly habits. So he didn’t form the connection between their cores, he didn’t want to hurt the still living soul of his baby by feeding it unneeded ectoplasm. Danny couldn’t stay in his dimension however.. due to the active laws against his kind. And he didn’t want to drag his child into something he didn’t need to be apart of. So he forced down his core wants and said goodbye to his baby JayJay. Then left for the infinite realms to be crowned and ever wondering what happened to his baby.

_________________

Jason couldn’t describe the feeling when he saw the being Wickham had summon finally appear.

It was a human body despite the many not human things. Their hair was a snow white and their eyes glowed a bright green. The clothes they wore had similarities of kings clothing it was a black with gold accents and a star covered cape. The cape floated like it went beyond gravity which Jason assume it did. The man had sharp canines and pointed ears. His hair floated similar to his cape, defying gravity. The feet of the being faded to invisible as it reached the floor. The glowing green flickering off to blue crown on the beings head drooped back a the being landed on the ground.

“King of the Infinite Realms, Ancient of space and the unknown, Defeater of Pariah Dark, Honored of the Far Frozen, Knight of-“ Wickham started before being interrupted by the being.. King Phantom?

“Blah- Blah- Blah. What do you want, Mortal..” The kings voice was echoey and smooth, Jason swore he heard the voice before.

“My King! I ask that you cleanse this cursed world and take it for your own! With me as your trust-“ Do Wickham was a stereotypical cultist. Only wanting one thing that will likely never gain. The being interrupted him again.

“I’m good, already own this dimension. It’s only one of the infinite-“ The king rolled their eyes before they froze their voice stopping with them. They were looking off into the distance so Jason could only guess the being realized something.

Wickhams voice felt muffled when Jason heard him as the being looked straight at him and Jason stared back.

[sunnie-angel]

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 1: Unexpected Faces in Familiar Places

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay makes a new friend, now if only she could be something more... tags: sexual harrassment, threats of violence, idiots in love, flirting, swearing, sexual tension, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 4.7k a/n: enjoy! i've been having a really shitty week (even before the election) so i scrapped my original intention to only post once it was fully written and decided to just share this with you all

Jay Todd has the shittiest day to cap off the shittiest week in what feels like forever. Her ribs ache from a hit on Monday that’s still not fully right and she spent most of the day chasing down one of her accountants that had the sheer fucking nerve to try and steal from under her nose. Her knuckles are bloody, she’s on the verge of a stress headache, and all she wants is to drink her goddamn drink in peace. Apparently that’s too much to ask for because she gets a call from Cala down at one of her bars about out of towners harassing the guests and now that just won’t do at all.

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in. Zeroes in on the two chucklefucks have that cornered a poor girl sitting at the bar. Notes the way she’s hunched over and pulling down the hem of her skirt to hide her skin from lecherous eyes. Cala buzzes around the scene trying to divert their attention away from poor little miss unlucky but it doesn’t work.

“–m not alone,” Jay hears you say as she strides towards the bar. “I’m waiting on a friend.” 

“That so,” the taller of the two men leer. “Well she can just join us too. Plenty of room for more.” The shorter man makes a crude gesture at his crotch and Jay sees red.

“There you are!” She calls out, shoulders past the men without even acknowledging their presence. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a real bitch. Did you already order our drinks yet?” You look up at Jay with gratitude and something suspiciously like tears shining in your eyes. Fuck. You’re pretty.

“No I– I didn’t know if you were planning on driving so I just waited,” you play along. 

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before.

“You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored. The man’s face starts to go a horrible shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair.

“So you think you can just butt into a private conversation, bitch?” He snarls, spittle flying.

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks.

“I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

He opens his mouth to respond, vein pulsing in his forehead but the cock of a shotgun stops him. Cala, blessed Cala, had finally had the distraction she needed to grab the shot gun from under the bar and she is using it to maximum effect.

“Out!” She thunders, waving the shotgun in the men’s faces. “Out and don’t you ever come back. This is one of the Hood’s bars, we’re under her protection and there’s gonna be hell to pay for this.”

Enraged the larger one goes to yell back but the shorter one grabs at his shoulder. Whispers at him to look around at all the hostile faces, the other regulars getting to their feet and cracking their knuckles. Tails between their legs the two nuisances scamper out.

Jay nods at Cala and she calls out “Next round’s on the house!” to the cheers of the room.

Job taken care of, Jay goes to leave when a hand around her wrist, just catching her under the hem of her jacket, freezes her in place.

“Wait!” you call. She turns to look at you properly, the wobble of your lip and the shortness of your skirt from where you’re no longer tugging it down. “Please? I just– I’m worried they’ll be waiting outside for me. I was supposed to meet a date here but they bailed on me and now I have to wait for the next bus to come. Would you stay with me for a bit? Please? I’ll– I’ll buy you a drink for the inconvenience.” And well, Jay always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

“Sure,” she says, slinging herself lazily back into the bar chair. “It’s no inconvenience but I’ll take that drink. Whoever he is, he’s gotta be mad for standing a pretty girl like you up.”

“Oh um,” you fluster at her words. “Thanks?”

Cala sets down Jay’s usual order for when she’s driving in front of her and refills your drink. Waves off your fumbling with your wallet with a “It’s on the house, chérie. Our apology for the bad night. Besides,”  she nods at Jay “the Boss Lady would not let you pay if you tried.”

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds.

“You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing. “Just needed a little help, that’s all. Now my name’s Jay and I own this little establishment. Why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself too?”

You stutter and start through your own self-introduction, mascara long eyelashes fluttering at all the attention. Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Getting you to talk about yourself seems to work though, familiar territory slowly evening you out. You’re surprisingly witty when you’re not flustered, someone fun to have a conversation over beer with. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

A stray notification catches your attention, interrupts your story about how this bar wasn’t even in your bottom five. You roll your eyes at the sender name.

“Jerry,” you answer Jay’s inquisitive look. “Apologizing for standing me up, for all the good that’ll do.” With a flourish you tap at your screen, smile and say “Blocked.”

Jay can feel the corners of her eyes crinkle up in return, simple joy and approval for you cutting the trash out of your life. Not that she’s really entitled to an opinion on it. Your smile lasts a half second longer before suddenly descending into panicking, fumbling out your phone and chanting no no no under your breath.

“I missed the last bus,” you breathe out, eyes wide. Jay’s brain stutters at that, there’s no way you’ve been talking together for four hours. Cala catches her eye and jerks her head up at the big clock hanging over the bar. Fuck. It really has been four hours.

Jay knocks back the last of her beer and stands, extends a hand out to you to help you hop off the bar stool that’s just the wrong side of too tall. Even in your heels Jay’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“C’mon,” she says. “It’s my fault you were out so late, I’ll give you a ride home.”

She leads you outside to where her bike is parked, your palm still in hers.

“I don’t have an extra helmet so you just take mine okay?” She says, putting it on you.

“We’re– we’re going on that?” you squeak out, surprise rendering you docile.

“Yep,” she answers, already straddling the bike, thighs flexing. “Hop on and hold on tight.”

Jay more feels than hears your scream as she revs the engine and takes off, corners maybe just a little too fast to be anything other than showing off. Too soon she pulls up at your front door and already she mourns the feeling of your arms wrapped around her middle. She gives you a hand to help you off the bike again and nearly buckles at the brief glimpse of the black unlined lace panties she sees under your skirt as you swing your leg over the bike. The two of you stand there facing each other, moment stretching out until a car backfires a few blocks over.

“Well, I guess I should get going, “ Jay tells you reluctantly.

“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway. Grinning, you see her off into the night, taillights dissolving into darkness.

Jay calls first, asks about coffee with too much casualness in her voice. Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers. Bitches with you about assholes at work – not that she gives you the full story – and bemoaning the state of customer affairs. Makes you dinner at her apartment and makes a spot for herself on your couch. Worms her way into every corner of your life without regret because you’d tell her if her presence was unwanted. Right?

Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl. Dick teases her about how far she’s willing to bend over backwards for ‘just a friend’ and Jay has to show her teeth and snap back that at least she has some. Has to cover up for the fact that her sanity is hanging by a goddamn thread thinner than that single string that had tied the open sides of your top together that one afternoon, revealing bare skin and the hint of a breast if you leaned just right. The way she almost walked into a wall when she realized you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place. How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

A gala invitation has Jay wishing she could shoot lasers with her eyes and incinerate it. Her eye twitches with annoyance and you snatch it up out of her hands before she can stop you.

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

“A stupid one,” she answers, not really paying attention.

“But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.

Even with your whining and pouting, Jay can’t help but think she’d still have a better time at the gala with you by her side to distract her from pointed glances and whispers. She sighs. Wait.

“There’s a plus one on that invite,” she tells you nonchalantly, studying your face in her peripheral vision. “You could come if you want, get all dressed up too.”

You stiffen at the question. “You really mean it?” you whisper, hardly daring to breathe.

“Course, but only if you want to,” she offers. You squeal, clutch the envelope to your chest and tackle her.

“It’s short so I’ll probably have to rent a dress and oooh I need to think about makeup, maybe a bold lip? Oh! And I can have another excuse to wear the Jimmy Choos...” you babble in her arms.

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.”

“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress. You prance around the room pulling down dishes for dinner and Jay sighs, melts back into the couch cushions as she listens to you chatter a mile a minute about how excited you are.

Jay’s really, really regretting her impulsivity by the time the gala rolls around a few days later. In all her excitement about not going alone for once, she’d forgotten that this meant she’d be going with you. With you, all dolled up and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

You knock at her door earlier than she’d expected from you when a fancy event is involved and has to do her very best not to drop her jaw on the floor. Gorgeous green silk pools around your breasts in a daring cowl neck, the fabric clinging to your curves, draped to exaggerate them. Skims the plush sides of your hips before falling straight to the floor, a daring slit revealing the warm bare skin of your leg ending in those heaven sent Jimmy Choos. Jay stares, knows she stares for a beat too long but there is quite literally no force on earth that could tear her away. You start to squirm under her attention, still standing half in her doorway.

“That bad, is it?” You laugh self consciously, start to cover your cleavage with your hands. “I knew it was too much.”

“No, no it’s just enough,” she rasps, standing back to let you in. You brush past her so close she can smell your perfume, can tell you’d broken out your special occasions scent in the nice glass bottle. “I just need to fix my tie and do my hair and then we can go.”

“Do you need the tie?” You hum, stepping into her space. Grabbing a hold of one of the loose ends, you tug it out from where it’s tucked under her collar and drape it over the couch. Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her.

Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

“Can I do your hair too?” You ask shyly.

“Don’t see why not, I was just going to do a ponytail,” Jay shrugs. Delighted you push her down onto the couch and start pulling bobby pins out of your purse. “Wait did you plan this?” She asks.

“A girl should always be prepared for the best outcome,” you tell her primly as you stand behind her and finger comb her riotous hair.

Quickly you separate out a deep side part and Jay memorizes the feeling of your hands in her hair. Hands twisting and pinning, you’re done in only a few minutes, handing her the little mirror out of your clutch to admire your work. Softly Jay touches your work, the way you’ve slicked back one side of her hair and made the waving curly mess look artistic and purposeful.

“Thank you,” she says, making eye contact with you in the mirror. She means it, means it for more than just fixing her hair but for everything else you’ve done since stumbling into her bar and her life all those months ago.

“It’s nothing,” you tell her, hands suddenly occupied with the mechanism of your purse. “We should probably get going, right?”

Jay drives the two of you to the venue in a really nice car you’ve never seen before. She waves away your questions with a tight, “My dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” She parks at the end of the red carpet and the doors haven’t even opened yet but you can already see the camera lights flashing. You look at her, suddenly nervous because you’d vastly underestimated how important this event was. She turns to you and smiles, grips your hand over the car console.

“Hey,” she says, all softness. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I’ll head off the vultures, you just hold onto me and enjoy the canapes, okay?”

You nod, and then suddenly she’s opening up your door, hand extended to help you out. The lights are blinding, flashing so fast the afterburn never gets any time to dissipate. Pasting on a smile you cling to Jay’s strong arm, rock solid even under all her suit layers. Paps shout and scream at you to look their way and you can barely hear them over one another.

Eventually the two of you make it through the front doors of the hotel and you gasp like you’ve been drowning. Rubbing your shoulders Jay moves to cover you, cuts off the private moment from prying eyes that seek and skitter.

“Is it always like that?” You gasp. Fighting to regain your balance.

“Unfortunately,” she says with a rueful smile. “But that’s the worst of it over, now we can really enjoy the night.” Gallantly she offers you her arm and you accept it gratefully, her elbow brushing up against the swell of your breast as you walk.

She introduces you to the night’s hosts – her family – with a whispered apology in your ear. Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure. She doesn’t know what possesses her to, but she wraps a proprietary arm around the small of your back as she steers you around the room. Helps you to crystal flutes of champagne that make your nose twitch at the carbonation and warns you off the most disgusting canapes.

Jay has just chased down the waiter carrying the mushroom and cheese quiche bites you’d fast declared your favourite when the two of you get roped into a very stilted conversation with some of the fat cats the Waynes are currently trying to drain dry, for charitable reasons of course. She’s tuned out the conversation while she piles all the best looking bites onto a plate for you, horrifically uninterested in whatever Mr. Harold J. Carson, esquire had to say about the Texan economy. She cottons on to something being wrong as your hands tense up around her arm and your laugh gets ever more brittle.

“That’s a very kind offer Mr. Carson–”

“Harold, please,” the great mustached walrus harumphs.

“–Mr. Carson,” you bravely soldier on. “But I’m here on a date and I hope you’re not implying that I’m the type of woman to two-time someone.”

He turns an ugly shade of puce and sputters at the implication, society matrons chuckling behind their glasses at his terrible blunder. Sensing an opportunity, Jay grabs you by the arm and starts leading you away.

“I do think our presence is needed by my family elsewhere,” she says, vowels Diamond District clipped. Her grip around your fingers is strong, tighter than it’s ever been as she leads you down a hallway and into an unused meeting room. Her breaths are coming heavy as she drops your arm like she’s been burned, deposits the plate on the empty table. Jay knows if she speaks now, her voice will shake and she will not have that. FUCK. Fuck, she was supposed to have this under control by now. She’s not your keeper, she’s not gonna stand between you and happiness but fuck it hurts to be used like a ticket into someone else’s bed.

“Jay,” you ask cautiously. “Are you okay? I really wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, I’m telling the truth, promise.”

“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.

“But you invited me,” you answer her, voice trailing off in confusion.

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.”

Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Jay has to stop pacing because wait what.

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question. 

“We met because my date stood me up!” you exclaim.

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.”

“Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

“Oh,” she says stupidly, suddenly forced to re-contextualize her entire life for the past few months. You dash an angry hand at your tear eyes and turn to go.

“It was my mistake,” you tell her voice thick with emotion.

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

“Oh sweetheart,” she croons and you shudder. “Bet you’ve been feeling like I’ve been treating your real raw lately.” She cups your face in her hand, smoothes her thumb over the high plain of your cheekbone. “Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

“We were– we were supposed to dance,” you confess, head falling back against the door. 

“We can still do that,” she says, curling her fingers into your hair and pulling. She grins at your swift inhale.

“We were gonna dance an’ then, then you were gonna take me home.” You breathe out, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Was that it baby girl?” She asks. “Playing it a little safe for your one night fantasy, weren’t you?” Jay lets go of your wrist to rest her hand on your shoulder, large hand pressing down on your collarbone.

“Was gonna kiss you goodnight,” you whimper, shivers running across your skin. Slowly, so slowly you can make out the ticking seconds hand of the big clock on the wall, Jay leans in and carefully slots her mouth down over yours. Sucks gently on your bottom lip before releasing it with a sigh.

“Like that?” Jay asks. “You were just hoping for a sweet little kiss on the mouth?” Her own breathing is ragged.

“No–o,” you gasp. “Was hoping– was hoping you’d kiss a little lower too.”

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced. 

“These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

“They’re my– my lucky date underwear,” you gasp into the air. 

“And you were hoping to get lucky tonight, weren’t you baby girl?” She coos up at you.

Biting your lip, you nod. Jay sets about tearing your underwear to pieces with her teeth. Your thighs tremble around her ears and she slams your hips back down against the door. Spreads your lips open with calloused fingers, presses a light kiss to your clit in greeting before she starts making out with your pussy. You howl and sag, trusting her to take the full weight of you as your knees turn to jelly.

Jay eats you out with enthusiasm and she eats you out with experience. Does this thing with the slick thrusting muscle of her tongue that has you gasping and begging for more. Can feel the heel of your shoe digging into her back, urging her own, begging her to fuck you harder. Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

Sucks your clit, hard, just a hint of teeth as she spears you open on a thick finger. Twists and curls it against your slick wet walls, lets herself affectionately get acquainted with your cunt. Scissors you open with two fingers just to watch your head bang back against the door, eyes shut and tears streaming down your face. Sets an uneven rhythm with her fingers and tongue that has you moaning and trying to ride her face for more. Finger fucks you with wet, squelching vigour as you quiver and shake, walls tightening up as you careen towards climax. Starts putting pressure on your rim with a third finger just to tip you over the edge of it all, pleasure making you stupid. Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

Gently, she takes your trembling thigh off her shoulder and places it back onto the ground. Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

“Hoping for a little something like that, honey?” She teases.

Vigorously you nod, head bouncing back and forth like a bobblehead, words still fucked out of your brain. She holds out a hand to you – not the one that’s just been buried knuckle deep inside you – and clasps your hand in her own.

“C’mon, let’s go home then,” she tells you airily, leading you back through the maze of the building.

“But what about the party?” you ask, mascara still smeared around your eyes.

“I don’t care,” Jay bites out. “I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.”

“Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

“Good,” Jay smirks. “Because it wasn’t a question.”

series masterlist | part 2

[jaeminify]

two is better than one — lee jeno, na jaemin.

synopsis ☆ jaemin hated sharing and he hated that he had to watch his best friend get to hold you like he would in bed. but what was he to do when you liked the two of them and couldn't decide on one?

tags/warnings ☆ threesome, spit kink, cum play, slight mention of anal; rimming (jaemin... may have a kink), slight strangling kink but towards the end.

author's note ☆ was semi-inspired by that *one challengers scene, and this idea came up... not one of my best works but i enjoyed writing it with how easy the idea and dialogue came to mind. it was also great timing with jeno suddenly going shirtless 0_0 happy readings!!! i hope everyone reading this enjoys <3 feedback and comments are appreciated <3

Jaemin loved to kiss you. To taste you, to feel you, to hold you — he loved every moment of feeling you against him. Skin on skin, sweat dripping off his arms as he touched you; he got turned on by the tiniest of things it agitated him when you weren't around.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn't the only one who strongly felt that way, for his own best friend harboured the same intensity as him.

"Fuck you Jeno Lee." Jaemin mutters behind his typical red solo cup, not daring to take his eyes off of you while you dance with your group of friends.

"What'd I do?" His best friend shows up in the flesh, holding out a cup of pistachios for both him and Jaemin to snack on.

Jaemin glares at his best friend before taking a pistachio for himself. He nods his head in your direction, feeling his breath get heavy when he notices how good your outfit looks on you. It didn't help that you were swaying your hips too.

Jeno follows his gaze and grins in acknowledgement.

"What can I say, dude." Jeno smirks when you lock eye contact with him, "We're just two lucky bastards."

"You're the bastard. I'm the lucky one."

"Wait till we get back home," Jeno's eyes darken when you blow a kiss to Jaemin but not him. "We'll both be feeling pretty lucky."

"Jaem!" You whine, feeling Jaemin grip your hips so harshly you were sure they'd leave bruises the next day.

You feel Jeno leave kisses on the back of your neck, delicately holding your hair up in a makeshift ponytail, feeling his bare skin against your back while Jaemin is drilling his cock straight into your core. You're trying to form coherent words but the pressure is too much. Your hands are scrambling up to tug at Jaemin's roots while the other is gripping Jeno's hand.

"Yeah, baby?" Jaemin breathes out, cursing under his breath when he feels your pussy tighten around him.

"What's wrong, Sweet Girl?" Jeno whispers into your ear, making you let out a shaky sigh. "Jaemin's making you feel real good isn't he? Doing such a great job for our Jaemin."

You can't help but nod at the praises Jeno gives, losing yourself in the sensation and the words they both shower you in. It was addicting; they were both addicting.

"Kiss..." You mutter," barely able to speak up with how entranced you were by the both of them as you always are. Jeno glanced at Jaemin who was too focused on being sucked in by your cunt that he didn't hear your words.

When he feels your hand on his chest, Jaemin looks over at you. Immediately he recognises the look of your hooded eyes and clingy hands, reaching for any feeling of skin you could get. You just needed them near you.

"Hi baby," Jaemin leans forward, nuzzling his nose against yours before he showers kisses all over your jawline and at the corner of your ear. "What do you need, Angel? Want more of my cock? Need us both?" He whispers, grinning when you whimper and move your hips to meet his thrusts.

"Think she wants a kiss." Jeno smirks from behind your head, you can feel the cockiness drip out of his words. His arms tighten around your waist. "From who, baby?"

You reach out to grab Jeno's neck while the other pulls Jaemin's arm.

"Both... Both of you please..." You whine, looking completely worn out and ruined by the both of them. You feel Jeno's cock harden behind your ass and grind harshly against him as you try to not lose your rhythm with Jaemin's thrusts.

"Need you both, right now..." As if you had enough, you tug them both down to meet your lips and the three of you start relentlessly making out.

Jaemin's hot grunts are swallowed by your lips while Jeno's tongue tries to take control of both you and Jaemin.

The makeout session, dare you say was hotter than having the both of them pound into you but that thought is quickly thrown away when Jeno pulls away, allowing Jaemin to take control. Your bottom lip is licked then sucked by Jaemin before he kneads your stomach, moving his hands from your middle to your ass, unbeknownst to you, spreading your ass apart.

You let out a surprised yelp, gasping when you feel Jeno's finger prod at your second hole, causing you to nearly clamp down onto Jaemin, making him yell.

"Jesus, fuck." Jaemin hisses, quickly pulling out to cum on your stomach. You whimper when you feel something warm.

"More," You sigh, clutching Jeno's arm when you feel him rub his tip against your rim. "Jeno— Jeno please."

"Please what, baby? Use your words. Remember what I taught you."

Jaemin snickers between your legs, using his forefinger to scoop up his cum on your stomach.

"Like she can think straight when I'm here."

Before you can respond, Jaemin hovers over you with his fingers right above your lips. With a smirk, he tilts his head.

"Open your mouth for me, Angel. Could you do that?" He smiles widely when you follow his words, sticking out your tongue too so he knows you consent to what he's about to give you. Jaemin feels his cock grow hard at the sight of you.

"Such a princess, getting fed so good by the both of us huh?" Jaemin lets his cum fall onto your tongue, then leans down to kiss you.

"Fuck, okay. Can I have a moment? My cock feels like it's about to burst."

You carefully pull away from Jaemin, not without leaving one more peck on his lips, making him grin. Then, you shift on Jeno's lap.

"Need me?" You smile innocently, almost making Jeno cum right then and there but he feels your slickness with his tip and groans.

"Good, huh? Prepped our pretty girl nicely." Jaemin taunts from behind you, leaving a delicate kiss on the top of your head.

"Need you to spread your legs a little wider for me baby, can you do that?" Jeno murmurs, knowing how you'll respond. He only ever asks because he wants to hear the answer. Wants to hear it from you, especially. "You're an obedient girl, aren't you?"

You nod, helplessly going limp. "Just for you— Only for you and Jaemin."

Now that you were facing Jeno, Jaemin had the pleasure of fondling with your tits to see how you'd react to him. Of course, with such pleasure on your upper body, your natural response is to moan, whine and clench your cunt when Jeno glides himself into you, feeling himself so close to release already.

"Oh," he moans. "Oh, shit— oh baby."

"Jeno..." Your voice rises an octave higher when Jeno hits a spot that makes you grow weak into Jaemin's arms.

The latter has no issue with you almost completely lying on top of him. He's having fun playing with your clit while he kicks at your earlobe, whispering dirty words into your ears, enjoying the way you crumble under the both of them.

"Just like that baby, take Jeno's cock so well. You're so greedy Angel." Jaemin murmurs, smirking when Jeno hisses at the way you grind against him.

"Jeno... Jeno—" Youvgasp when you feel Jaemin's tongue against your rim, once again, it was always either of them taking turns to tease you when you were already on the edge.

"Fuck!" You scream, clawing your nails up Jeno's chest as you clung onto his shoulders now that Jaemin's body wasn't directly behind you for support.

His hands, however, were nothing short of greedy. He squeezed your ass, spreading them apart once again before he dived back in to taste you.

"So fucking sweet baby. Be a patient girl and take what Jeno gives you," Jaemin's raspy voice is a threat to your orgasm because right as he finishes his sentence, you're desperate to cum, and Jeno can feel that. "Let me taste you, yeah? Focus on Jeno first."

But you can't.

The pleasure from Jaemin's hot tongue frantically prodding and licking at your rim has you screaming the loudest you've probably screamed in a while, making Jeno have to clamp his hand over your lips as he rests his forehead against yours. Just as you are, Jeno looks gone. He looks so fucked out and in awe at the way you move your body that he isn't even bothered to try and hide how dazed he is. All he's thinking now is how he wants to have his cock buried in your cunt for days— as long as you'd let him.

"Like what Jaemin's doing to you, huh baby?" Jeno rasps out, his free hand sliding up to rest around your neck, making you moan against the hand that's covering your mouth.

Jeno's eyes darken when he feels you kiss his palm, licking eagerly as you thrust up to meet his cock halfway.

"There's our little slut." Jeno whispers, getting close to his orgasm while you're already on your second. You arch your back, moving slightly away from Jaemin's lips — which he dislikes, without missing a beat he wraps his arms around your hips to pull you even closer to his face.

"Babygirl loves our attention, doesn't she?" Jeno taunts, smiling when he sees tears roll down from your eyes. Without hesitation, Jeno leans forward to lick at them, swallowing your tears as he tastes them before kissing your lips.

"Don't hold yourself back, gorgeous." Jeno continues, "You don't have to pretend like you're a saint like you always do baby girl, cause deep down," He leans down to reach your ears, "you're just a little cocksleeve for Jaemin and I, aren't you? So hungry and eager to have us inside of you... Can't even function straight without wanting to fuck us."

All you can do now is moan, because the pleasure feels too good. It feels too fucking good to even try to say anything to deny his words. He was right anyway.

Jaemin gave your hole one last kiss before he stood back up behind you. When he sees your mascara running down your face, he knows you're almost gone, and he's quick to rush to your aid, cooing sweet nothings.

"There you go pretty girl, just a little bit more for us, yeah? Think you can do that baby? Hold on a bit more?"

"Don't think she can, Jaemin." Jeno grins, giving you one last thrust before he pulls out to jack his cock off. The two boys spare a split second of eye contact before they smirk at each other, understanding what the other wants with no words.

"Think you deserve an award baby," Jaemin smiles, "Want his cum?"

You snap out of the trance you're in to look up at Jeno's cock. No matter how many times you've fucked him, and how many times you've had him in your mouth, Jaemin and Jeno's lengths never failed to leave you speechless.

"Want to taste you, Jeno. Want your cum." You slur, carelessly getting out of Jaemin's grip as you crawl your way below Jeno's cock, letting it rest on your face before you start to kitty lick his tip. "Please, please Jeno. Need you, want you."

"Baby's so fucking clingy today," Jeno hisses, letting his cock rest in your mouth. "Want me so fucking bad, huh? Take everything I give you baby. Want you to swallow everything— Shit shit shit."Jeno falls back to lean against the wall he's standing by when your tongue plays with his tip, knowing that's all he needed to cum down your throat.

Finally, the three of you clean yourself up and make your way over to your bed. You, passed out in the middle, clinging onto both of their arms as you wear Jaemin's shirt to sleep.

The two boys, just as worn out as you, start to doze off with the comfort of you next to them.

"You were right.".

Jeno raises his head to look at his friend, a confused look on his face. He was still trying to get the look of your face out from his head to stop his cock from hardening.

He huffed, "what?" whispering so he wouldn't wake you.

Jaemin turns to his side to leave a kiss on your cheek, smiling when you turn to face him and rest your head on his shoulder.

"We're both just two lucky bastards."

[robintherobiner]

yesterday i spent an hour in the shower talking to myself about how I think a reverse robins au would go, mainly in the case of Tim taking Jasons place as the revived second robin. I took the Joker Junior thing and decided "Hm.. yes, this is how Tim dies."

I have many thoughts about it.

Basically, Tim's 15, has been Robin for almost two years, when his dad dies. Like in canon, Tim makes a very strategic plan which could lead to the murderers death, but Batman finds out and Tim doesn't enact it. Bruce is still mad about it, and Tim storms out the manor to go visit his dad's grave. While on the way, he gets kidnapped by the Joker and he's tortured for three weeks because Bruce thinks he's just being an angry teen giving the silent treatment. By the time he realises something is wrong and goes to find Tim, the boy is already dead. After shooting the Joker, he shot himself, and Harley Quinn is no where to be found.

Then, six months after being buried, he wakes up in his grave, right besides his father. He digs out, is found by Talia, and taken to be trained. With Jason, Ra's didn't want to heal him and Talia did it without permission, but in this au, Talia is the one who doesn't want to heal him. She thinks he's too similar to Bruce, and that she won't be able to trick him. Ra's thinks he can. He's wrong, of course.

Instead of reclaiming the name Red Hood, Tim decides to stay as Junior. After all, he was extremely mentally unstable before his death, so i think he'd still be suffering fron the torture and think Batman = bad, Joker = good. After a little while, he manages to recover a bit, but he's still mad at Bruce.

Jason forgave Bruce for not saving him, but was angry he didn't get justice.

Tim forgave Bruce for not getting him justice, but he's angry he didn't get saved.

Tim comes back to Gotham and is a lot more sneaky with his crimes. Red Hood came in guns a-blazing, straight away starting to clean Gotham up, but Junior is much more behind the scenes. If the criminals decided to do good, they'd live. It's not his fault the house they broke in to had rabid dogs squatting in it, or that their hard drives were suddenly copied and shared to everyone they knew.

Instead of attacking the new Robin, he kidnaps her instead. Sends Batman cryptic messages like "better find her soon or she'll end up like the last bird" or "you should keep a better eye on your things, Batsy". Bruce is tearing Gotham apart searching for Stephanie, thinking she's being tortured by a Joker wannabe, when actually she's just being forced to sit through slideshows about the dangers of being a child soldier and told annoying knock-knock jokes over burgers.

I might write a fic about this 🤭

[sreppub]

For the prompts, tim and/or dick for your reverse robins au? I love your version of that au <3

I don’t think I’ve ever talked about this but Tim was Joker Junior-ed, died killing the Joker, resurrected and League of Shadow-ed, and then broke off to do his own thing until Bruce got lost in time. And even then, he was anonymously pulling strings behind the scenes in the hero/vigilante world, until the finale required his presence.

The last thing Bruce expected was for the universe to be saved from time fuckery by The Red Hood, or for the Red Hood to (impulsively) ask if his old job was open.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

We Will Care For Her (Part 8.5)

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When the call came in about screaming and gunshots in the woods the Teen Titan’s were worried to say the least, and the closest ones to the scene. With no bigger emergencies all four of them mobilized to check it out. It was unlikely that all four of them would be needed, but they worked better as a team and no one wanted to be left behind.

Tim wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it was not his brother in full Red Hood getup sprinting out of the building with a white-haired young woman cradled in his arms and someone in a skull mask on his heels. At first Tim thought that the person chasing Jason was causing the problem, until he saw the official people in white after both of them with guns, those sorts were always bad news. If there had been a registered, above board research facility of some sort out here he would have known about it. 

Then the stranger turned and let out some sort of concussive scream that was definitely more powerful than even Black Canary's. Everyone chasing them was blasted back into the building and the concrete and steel of the building itself crumpled in on itself like toothpicks. Who were they!?

“Red Hood, what’s happening?” Tim called out to Jason, who glanced at him but didn’t answer,he barely seemed to register Robin was there before his gaze turned back to the masked individual Tim didn’t recognize. Well, didn’t recognize until Hood called out to them and called them Hyena.

That was Hyena?! That was a completely different outfit then the one he was used to, and he had never seen, or even heard of, Hyena using a power like that! Sure he’d told Batman he was powerful, but it was one thing to be told that and a completely different thing to see it. But sure enough he responded to the name, and as he approached Hood, Hyena drew his humanity back around him like a veil, the skeletal appearance covered again by the costume Tim recognized. Tim tensed, ready to step in if he needed to, if Hyena lashed out at anyone. But he was calm, practically huddling up with Jason and the girl, and gently stroking her hair.

Unsure what else to do, Tim signed to Impulse and Wondergirl to check the perimeter. He doubted there was anyone still alive after those explosions, but they needed to check just in case. However that meant that when Hyena took the girl from Hood and brought her over to them it was only Robin and Superboy present, which turned out to only be for the better. Tim had never seen Danny so emotional, it was… jarring, especially compared to his usual manic energy and smile. 

“You, you're Super boy, the clone right?” Hyena asked Kon, and after glancing at Robin who gave an almost imperceptible encouraging motion, Kon nodded warily. “She is too,” Danny sighed looking down at the pale girl. “Back when I was still a hero my nemesis made her, she’s… my daughter in any way that matters, my flesh and blood but I… the way I am now I can’t look after her. I never could really, I tried but I was just a teenager at the time,” He let out a self deprecating little laugh. “I managed to stabilize her, but I can’t keep her.” 

Hyena had been a hero?! When and where?! Tim had never heard of a hero like him before, certainly not one with this motif, though he knew suits probably changed, especially since ‘Hyena’ was hardly a heroic persona. He had been young then too, very young to be cloned like that. Whoever his villain was sounded like a piece of shit. 

“She goes by Phantasm, will you take her? She’s… she’s a good kid, she needs someone better than me. I think your team, or if she needs an adult Wonder Woman or Martian Manhunter, would be best.” Hyena continued, and when he looked up again Tim realized he was actually crying, which had him reeling! Dealing with people’s emotions was always the part of this job he was worst at, and Hyena was someone Tim would almost consider a friend, which did not make it easier. He had never seen Hyena cry before either, somehow he hadn’t even considered it. 

Before Tim had even fully processed what was going on Connor had agreed that they would take Phantasm. Not that Tim would have said no, a (probably) empowered young person who needed help like this? That was 100% in their purview, even if she wasn’t a clone, which Superboy was predisposed to be protective of.

“Thank you,” Hyena sighed, tired and sad. “Tell her her template loves her, and tell her where to find me. She’s always welcome with me, just… warn her what I am now. I was very different when she knew me.” 

Tim glanced at Connor and resisted the urge to bite his lip. He tried not to obviously show emotion when in costume, but he worried how it felt for him to hear those words? Words that neither of Connor’s DNA donors would ever say about him. He hoped Connor was okay.

“What happened here?” Tim asked again, since no one had answered the first time. He couldn’t just write off so much destruction and loss of life! Even if he wasn’t quite As strict about the no killing rule as B, and he did trust Hyena and Hood more then a bunch of unknown goons in white.

“Remember when I mentioned being experimented on by mad scientists?” Danny asked wryly, Tim nodded and Danny simply gestured back at the facility. These were the people who had done that to him!? He’d been serious? That actually did explain some things. “I didn’t realize they still had her or I would have burned the place to the ground a long time ago. Here,” He said, fishing a USB out of the inside pocket of his jacket and holding it to Tim. “This has info on the organization, I meant to give it to you eventually anyway.” 

Tim took it automatically. He’d have to check it for viruses first, and he wouldn’t take anything at face value, but it would be a good place to start his own research. Danny slumped back like a poppet with its strings cut, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Come visit me soon, and tell me how she’s doing if she doesn’t want to see me, please?” He requested, looking back at Tim with a pleading expression that made Tim sort of uncomfortable. Why was he so bad with emotions! 

“Right, okay,” Tim agreed awkwardly. He would have anyway, since he met up with Hood and Hyana regularly now. Danny nodded back and then turned, walking back over to Jason with his back hunched and his feet dragging. Jason lifted his arms, letting Danny walk into them. Then they were both just gone, just completely disappeared. 

Tim stared at the place where Hood and Hyena had been just a minute ago. Damn did he have a lot of powers to add to his file on Hyena between the transformation, the invisibility, and that earth shattering wail. He shook his head and looked back at the girl Kon was still holding, she was what was important right now.

He looked up, meeting Superboy’s gaze seeing the same confusion and determination on his face. They didn’t know what was going on or why really, but they were going to do right by Phantasm as best as they could. “There are no heartbeats left in the building, and the fire isn’t spreading. We should get her home before she wakes up,” Superboy told Robin softly, who agreed. 

As if on queue Impulse skidded to a halt next to them and Wondergirl returned from an overhead scan. “Anything we can do to help?” Tim asked the two of them. Wonder girl shook her head and Impulse shrugged. 

“I couldn’t get into the building at all, it’s just a pile of rubble now. I’d be really surprised if there’s anyone still alive in there. So, who are we going to arrest about this?” Impulse asked, shifting from foot to foot absently. 

Robin shook his head at Impulse, they wouldn’t be arresting anyone today. Even if maybe they should have at least brought Hood and Hyena in for questioning… Well, it's too late now. “We answered the call and there’s nothing we can do, let’s get home. Wondergirl, do you mind carrying me back to the Tower? I don’t think Superboy is willing to let go of Phantasm,” Robin requested dryly, and Superboy gave him a sheepish smile that told him he was absolutely right about that.

“Sure,” Cassie agreed, clearly amused by Superboy’s reaction, if confused by… everything that was going on.

“Hey, what about me?” Impulse asked with a dramatic pout that had Tim rolling his eyes behind his mask.

“You’ll probably get home before we do so You can start brewing the coffee,” Tim told him dryly, already heading over to Cassie. 

Impulse sighed dramatically at Tim and then he was gone, with the air rushing in to fill the space he’d just occupied with a little wooshing sound. Robin shook his head with a soft laugh and allowed Cassie to arrange him like she was going to give him a piggyback ride before she took off, Superboy on their heels as they headed home. 

They had plenty of guest rooms since the Teen Titans had an extensive network of young heroes and empowered individuals and sometimes they needed a place to stay. Since most of the rooms were available, they picked the one that was closest to the Core Four’s rooms and settled Phantasm in there. Robin checked her over, checking her pulse, her pupils reactions, her reflexes, and her other vitals, she seemed fine, though still unconscious.

Cassie cleaned her off of all the blood and the odd green fluid, and changed her into some spare sleeping clothes while the boys waited outside the room. When Cassie called to say that they could come back in Phantasm was already tucked into bed, looking much better already. Superboy went and sat on the edge of the bed. 

“We should make sure someone is always with her till she wakes up. We have no idea how long she’s been out, or how she might react when she wakes up. Connor, do you want to take the first shift?” He suggested, glancing at his friend who just nodded absently. “Right,” Tim said a little awkwardly and shooed Bart and Cassie out.

They all headed to the kitchen and Tim poured himself a cup of coffee while Cassie and Bart started talking about how fucking weird that had been. Tim lingered just long enough that he thought it wouldn’t be suspicious before heading back towards their rooms. He acted like he was headed back to his own room before detouring and slipping into Phantasm’s new bedroom. He was worried about Superboy and wanted to check on him, this was bound to be a more emotional situation for him then any of them. 

Superboy was staring down at Phantasm, his expression blank and his posture suspiciously straight. He was upset. Tim went and sat down next to him, after a moment of hesitation he took Connor’s hand, and gave it a squeeze to bring him back to the here and now. “How are you holding up?” He asked when Connor blinked and looked back at him.

“I’m… okay?” Connor said, looking back at the girl.

“Are you really?” Tim asked dubiously, that did not sound convincing. Connor gave a one shoulder shrug.

“Not really, it’s so fucked up. How many villains clone their heroes like that?! It’s such a messed up thing to do. But… I guess I’m a little jealous of her? Because even if she was made for ‘nefarious purposes’ or whatever, she has someone who really cares about her. But I’m happy for her too, it’s just making me remember… a bunch of shit you know? A lotta feelings,” He sighed, making a vague gesture with his free hand.

“Ya, I know,” Tim said without letting go of Connor’s hand. “You’re not alone though, I’m here for you, we’re all here for you,” He added quickly in case he made Connor uncomfortable with the intimacy. Though… Connor also hadn’t let go of his hand, and squeezed it gently as he gave Tim a slightly strained smile. “You have people who really care about you too.”

“Thank you Robin, that means a lot,” Connor said softly, bumping his shoulder against Tim’s.

-------

It had been 23 hours and Phantasm was still asleep. It was a worrying amount of time, but her heartbeat and breathing had remained stable so Robin wasn’t that worried. Tim was the one waiting by her bedside now, he had already gone through all the documents on the USB Hyena had given him. It contained a frankly horrific amount of evidence, including some pictures and videos that clearly weren't fake, even though Tim sort of wished they were with how gruesome they were. He still had his laptop on his lap though, now looking into any publicly available (or hackable) information to corroborate the information Danny had already given him. 

He was also working on a powerpoint to inform the JL about this travesty of a government organization, which they’d somehow allowed to form in spite of the obvious breach of meta-protection acts. When he heard a sound from the bed he nearly jumped out of his skin and slammed his laptop shut, not wanting Phantasm to see what it was he was working on first thing after waking up. He put his laptop down and turned his attention towards her as she stirred in the bed and let out a little groan. After a moment she opened her eyes just a little and glanced around, it looked like she was trying to pretend she was still out till she got the lay of the land, but she hadn’t been trained to properly mask body language. 

“You’re safe, Danny found you and freed you, he asked me and my team to look after you,” Tim told her. 

She jolted and opened her eyes fully, looking at him with wide eyes. “He’s alive?” She breathed incredulously. 

“Yes, he goes by Hyena now. He says he escaped a different facility a bit more than a year ago. He thought you were dead too or he would have come back for you sooner, but we’ll talk more about that later. How do you feel?” Tim asked, setting his computer aside. 

She paused as if considering the question. “Okay, I think,” she said thoughtfully.

“Alright, do you think you could manage something to eat and drink? You’ve been asleep for a while and we don’t know how long you were in that tube before that,” Tim asked.

“Ya, I can try, probably better to stick to liquids for now though,” She sighed, squirming to prop herself up a little more against the pillows. 

“Alright, I’ll text Superboy to get you some soup then. He’ll be happy to see you’re awake. He’s a clone too and he’s been worried about you,” He told Phantasm absently as he pulled out his phone to text Kon.

“Right. Before he comes, you know Danny’s name but you mentioned he goes by Hyena now? He’s still got a secret identity and stuff? He still a hero?” Phantasm asked, tilting her head to the side a little.

“Ya, I know his name because he’s dating my brother. He knows my secret ID too. He’s still a Mask, but he’s not exactly a hero anymore.” Tim said as delicately as he could as he texted SB.

“Oh dear, how bad did he get?” She breathed, eyes wide and worried.

“Judging by the powers he displayed yesterday nowhere near as bad as he could have. I won’t say he’s not a villain, since my brother is a crime lord, and they both have a body count, but I don’t think he’s a bad guy,” Tim told her as gently as he could.

“Oh,” She sighed, relaxing back against the pillows, which was a bit of a surprise. “Ya, not as bad as it could have been. Do you think he’s happy?”

“He and Red Hood seem really disgustingly in love with each other, so he’s got issues obviously, but ya, I think he’s happy.” 

“Good, he deserves to be happy. He was a good hero, people didn’t deserve him anyway.”

That was not the reaction Tim was expecting. He didn’t think it was the reaction Hyena would have expected either, with how worried he had been. Before he could ask more Superboy showed up with a soft woosh with a bowl of hot soup for her, pausing the conversation while he fussed over her.

[superblysubpar]

<- part seven | part nine -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: Was it real?

the song: we can’t be friends by Ariana Grande

also for your listening pleasure: Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper, One More Night by Phil Collins, Where Do Broken Hearts Go by Whitney Houston, Who's Crying Now by Journey, I Ran (So Far Away) by A Flock of Seagulls, What About Love? by Heart, and Can't Fight This Feeling by REO Speedwagon

5,839 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / brief descriptions of scars-previous head injury, new injuries & blood / mentions of getting high, but not reader / douchery to the highest order in the form of Brendan - he ignores boundaries, doesn’t listen, and a physical fight ensues - I made it as brief and nondescript as possible, but take care of yourself and do not read if you find it could be triggering (I’ve marked the scene with Brendan between red lines, and all you’d need to know is Steve saves the day) | my blog is 18+

Somewhere near Cornwallis Street - Sunday

  The screech of metal on metal continuing to alert you of his presence only makes your feet pick up their pace on the grass, pavement of the sidewalk too hot for your bare soles. 

  “Sweetheart, just get in the van. You’re wearing out my brakes, here.”

  Eddie’s been trailing behind you for five minutes, calling out the open window to get you to look at him. 

  “You know,” he calls, pausing at the stop sign as you look at the empty intersection and begin to jog across hot tar, “You’re being a brat!”

  “Excuse me?!” 

  Your foot twitches to stomp, like the thing he just called you, while fighting the urge to look at him as you continue down the neighborhood’s street. 

  “You heard me! Get in the fucking car. You gonna walk all the way across town without shoes on?”

  “Yes!” 

  “Really?” He scoffs, “Okay. What happens when you get there and you’ve got no keys?”

  Your feet slow, but you call out confidently, “I have a spare hidden.”

  “Fucking stubborn,” he mumbles as he brakes and puts the car in park and hops out. 

  Eddie rounds the hood of his car, sneakers untied and black swim trunks dripping wet still, hair pulled into a low bun with curls falling out around his face. He glares at you with hands on his hips.

  “Get. In. The. Car.”

  “No!” 

  You do stomp your foot that time, and then make a break for it, a full out sprint to get around him. 

  It’s childish, is what it is. There’s no other way to describe the way you try to run away from him, literally, or the way he snakes his arms around you, shouting about what the hell your actual problem is. No other way to describe the way you swat at a hard chest doing absolutely nothing as tears start rolling down your cheeks again and you yell the word asshole at him. 

  “Me?! I’m the asshole?” Eddie’s fingers circle your wrists, stopping your useless attack. His brown eyes blink at you, “For what? For-“

  “For lying to me, Eddie!” You shout it around a sob, knowing you’re leaning towards ugly snotting crying territory quickly. Your vision blurs as you keep going, “You manipulated me for Harrington. For some extra cash. For…for what?” Lips spitting words out around salty tears, “You started this whole fucking bet and-and you let him…why’d you do this? Why’d you-“

  “Because hello!” Eddie shouts, letting your arms go and holding his out wide, “Breaking news to literally only you because the entire fucking planet can see it: You’re totally in love with the guy!”

  “I’m no-“

  “You are,” Eddie cuts you off, eyes soft but jaw hard. “And you were never gonna give him a chance without our help because, aside from him,” Eddie laughs and gestures down the road behind you, “You’re the most stubborn person on earth. You both set your sights on something and you won’t budge till you get it. And you…yours were set on hating his guts.”

  Your hand swipes at your cheeks as you look away from him, refusing to admit he’s right and Eddie shakes his head, speaking softly now. 

“And I don’t think you told yourself you were gonna hate Steve Harrington forever because of some moment when you were twelve. I think you decided you were gonna hate him, so there was never any chance the opposite could be true. Because if you hate him, you could never love him. And if you never love him, you can’t get hurt.”

  A sob cracks your chest, head hung as tears fall and darken the pavement burning your feet. It only takes three drops for Eddie’s arms to wrap around you and five for you to wrap yours around him. He waits until his white cut off tee is plastered to his chest but no longer getting freshly damp to run a palm up and down your back and kiss the top of your head. 

  “Want some pie?”

  Eddie makes a disgusted scoff as you swipe your nose on his shirt and then look down at your bare feet.

  “Can we stop and get my shoes?”

  He smiles, head nodding towards the van still idling next to you. 

  “Would Prince Charming show up at Cinderella’s doorstep without the glass slipper?”

  Your eyes roll as Eddie walks you over to the van, helping you in as you pick up the shoes in the wheel well. 

  Eddie closes the door, face twisted in hesitation before he taps the open window frame and clears his throat.

“To be clear, so I don’t get accused of manipulating and lying again,” he raises his eyebrows at you and you duck your head as he softly tacks on, “I’m not Prince Charming in this scenario.” He nods at the shoes in your lap, “Before I could even think to follow you, Harrington was shoving those at my chest and telling me to.”

  Your chin wobbles, lip quivering as you sniff and ward off a fresh wave of tears. 

  It doesn’t matter who brought them, not really. Because all that does matter is the fact that they’re here and you want to put them on and keep running. 

  Away from your arguably skewed view of the past. Away from this street and that house and the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands on your body, the ache in your stomach and chest that you worry won’t ever go away.

  Run far, so far that Eddie’s words can’t ever catch up and make you face them head on - admit the truth behind them. 

  All you can think about doing is running away from Steve Harrington, because that’s all you’ve ever done, but now, now there’s a small new thread. 

  A thread like the one in your skirt a week ago that you wonder if you keep pulling, you’ll find where it starts. 

  A thread that runs parallel to the feeling of needing to run away from him. One that makes you pick and pull and wonder:

  If you keep running from him, will Steve ever give up trying to catch you? And if you stopped running, what happens when he does? 

  What happens when the chase is over?

Hawkins, Indiana - Monday A.B. (After Bet)

  You’re not proud of it, on Monday morning when you call Keith and tell him you can’t come in, lying about being sick. 

  The feeling in your stomach as you move a shirt, a sweatshirt, and pajama pants to your dryer later that day makes you wonder if you were really lying though. 

  Rain tapping against your windows and the glow of the TV screen lull you to sleep on your couch. 

  You don’t dream about Steve Harrington. 

  And when a crack of thunder jolts you awake right when he’s not about to kiss you, you decide you’ll never watch a movie with Harrison Ford in it again. 

Hawkins, Indiana - Tuesday A.B.

  Your hand smacks the buttons of your radio as Cyndi Lauper’s voice croons out of the speakers, ironically the dark storm clouds from last night are fading to gray this morning as you drive to work. 

  Fingers rub soothing circles into your temple while the warm summer breeze blows through your open windows, placating you into calm energy until the radio lands on it’s next station. 

  “But if you change your mind, you know that I’ll be here. And maybe we both can learn…”

  As you roll to a stop at a red light, you blink at your radio with a clenched jaw as Phil laments about getting one more night. Thankfully, the song is almost over, so when the light turns green, your shoulders roll back as your wheels go forward again. 

  But it seems the universe is out to get you, and soon Whitney’s voice is prying your already cracked chest open, voice filling every vulnerable nook and cranny it can find in your body.

  “Nope!” You tell your radio, the universe, while your hands frantically grab for a mix out of your cupholder and shove it into the dash as you make the last turn onto Family Video’s street. 

  And if the Journey song isn’t enough to make you fall, as you turn into the parking lot, the sight of Steve is.

  He looks up at the sound of your music and you quickly slam it off, able to feel the tiny people going to work inside your chest, shouting orders about reinforcements around your heart with the wall back standing. 

  Steve’s car is backed into a space, and he sits on the hood of it. He holds a to go coffee cup and a brown paper bag that he grips tighter as you get out of your car and walk past without looking at him.

  “Honey-“

  “Don’t.” 

  He says your name, feet scrambling behind you until you slow to a stop.

“That was a shitty way for me to tell you, I didn’t mean to make it sound like we were all…conspiring against-“

  “But you were,” you interrupt, spinning to face him in a grave mistake. The leader inside of you shouting about more! You need more glue, more bricks, more! He’s too powerful! The walls are breaking again!

  Steve’s hair is a mess, wild brown waves with zero product in it. Circles under pleading amber eyes and you’re fairly certain the shirt he’s wearing isn’t washed if the wrinkles and mustard stain are any indication. 

  It makes you feel guilty, but then you remember that you’re not sure what was real for him this last week. Not sure if any of it was, or if you were just the thing he had his sights set on winning - the thing he couldn’t have till he could. 

  He shakes his head but you hold up your hand, “Let’s just forget anything happened, okay?”

  “Wh-what?” Steve blinks profusely and you look anywhere but his eyes, and freckles, and neck, and-

  “I just want to…forget it. Let’s just be coworkers who share friends again, okay?”

  “We…you don’t even want to be friends?” His voice cracks and you blink your own eyes too many times, feeling a sting behind them. 

  “I…I can’t be your friend Ste-“ your voice wobbles and you correct, “Harrington.”

  Your fingers fiddle with the strap of your bag and his crinkle the brown bag in his hand and you both stand there, staring at the sidewalk for what feels like forever. 

  “I s’pose you don’t want these then,” he offers the items up limply, before he walks over to the trash and tosses them. He clears his throat and calls over his shoulder, “Have a good shift, co-worker.”

  His fingers slide on the bridge of his nose as he gets into his car, but it’s no use. You don’t see him crying because you’re walking into the store, and he doesn’t see you crying, because his vision is too blurry to see much of anything.

  The truth of the matter is, you can’t be friends with Steve. 

  Because you’d rather be so much more than friends. 

  But if you’re more than friends with Steve Harrington, it was only a matter of time before something, someone, new came along. A new challenge and thing to chase after. 

  You’re swiping at your eyes still as you get into the back room, greeted by an apologetic looking Robin and Keith slurping on yogurt.

“Good thing you called in yesterday,” he speaks around the pink snack in his mouth, “You look like hell.”

  “Thanks,” you snap sarcastically, dropping your bag on the table which wobbles when you do.

  “Huh,” Keith gets up, holding the spoon in his mouth as he walks over and shakes the table. He pops it out and holds the spoon at it accusingly, “Who broke the table?”

  Your body heats up remembering Steve laying on top of you on it, the way he felt between your legs, the way he-

  “I did!” Robin scrambles up from her chair, waving her hand over it and talking too fast, “I’ll pay for it! I’ll work extra shifts! I’ll-“

  “She didn’t break it.” You look at Robin who you’re worried may offer to sell her own soul if she thinks you’re mad at her. You’re not, though you do wonder how she knows about the table. “I did.

  Keith kicks it and mumbles a ‘whatever’, tossing the yogurt cup into the trash can and licking his fingers free from the creamy substance as he talks, “How was Harrington?”

  “Wh-what?”

  “Harrington?” Keith raises his eyebrows, hooking his thumb at Robin, “I can’t trust a thing she says, the traitor’s best friends with him.”

  “He…” Robin looks at you with a pout, pleading blue eyes and you sigh, “He was actually really good. Did extra work. Did the whole shipment by himself…he was…he was great.”

  Keith nods, eyes narrowed at you and then shrugs. “Whatever, he’s the new full time guy then. Spread the good news Buckley.”

  Robin’s eyes squeeze shut in a wince as you shout, “What?!”

  Keith is already walking out into the front of store and you trail behind him as he explains, “We needed a replacement for Tracy. This week was a trial run for Harrington. Thought he told you?”

  “He…” you trail off, remembering your first shift with him last week, “He said it was while you looked for the replacement.”

  Keith starts stacking tapes and Robin starts bringing them to shelves as he rolls his eyes at you. “Yeah, but why would I go through the trouble of posting the job, interviewing, and training a new person when one of my employees wants it?”

  “But-but, I’ll do it! I’ll interview and train! You don’t have to do a thing! I’ll-“

  “What’s the issue, I thought you said he was great? Give me a reason and I won’t give him the position.”

Keith blinks at you, bored, and Robin holds her breath next to you. 

  This means Steve and you working together most days. 

  This means watching him flirt and date and parade around Hawkins with every girl other than you for the foreseeable future. 

  This means you’ll never outrun Steve Harrington. 

  Robin raises her eyebrows at you and clears her throat as Keith snaps his fingers in your face, which you plaster a smile on to.  

“Give Harrington the job, what do I care?” 

  You spend the rest of your shift silent, listening to Keith explain to you how he wants the big fourth of July display to go and reminding Robin to tell Steve he can be in charge of the park, like he asked, whatever that means. 

  You stopped listening the minute his name was mentioned and focused on finding every movie with fireworks in it. 

Hawkins, Indiana - Wednesday A.B.

  You’re balancing on the window’s ledge, one hand holding the display of Patrick Swayze up and the other reaches for the tape that’s just out of reach on the shelf. 

  The tips of your fingers brush it as you stretch another centimeter and a huff falls past your lips when you can’t get it. You rise up onto your toes, craning just a little bit further when you start to lose your footing. 

  Large hands catch your waist from behind, holding you up. In the process of steadying you, your shirt rose, and Steve’s fingers now rest against your bare skin. 

  His hand lingers on your lower back as he reaches for the tape and hands it to you, both returning to your waist as you tape Johnny & Baby to the window. 

  “Thanks,” you clear your throat, realizing it’s the first word that’s been spoken in several hours. 

  Steve just hums from behind you before he lets his hands fall, the sound of his feet dragging on carpet only just louder than your heartbeat. 

  It isn’t fair, to know how his lips feel against yours.

  It isn’t fair, to know how he looks without his shirt off.

  It isn’t fair, to know how good it feels to come around his fin-

  The chime of the door pulls you from your self-sabotaging thoughts, the scent of peaches almost immediately overpowering. 

Blonde ringlets bounce as long legs approach the counter where he leans over a clipboard. 

  “Hi there,” her voice so sugary sweet it makes your stomach ache. 

  “Hi, welcome to…H-hi,” he stands, clearing his throat. 

  She pouts and leans across the counter, fingers traveling up his arms and making yours erupt in flames. 

  “You never called me, Steve.”

  “Oh,” Steve rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah, I’m so sorry. Something came up.”

  Something came up.

  Your scoff is loud, loud enough to have both of their heads turning, so you face the window again, putting pieces of tape aimlessly on the back of the posters. 

  “That’s okay,” Brit assures, syrupy and sighing, “But how are you gonna make it up to me?”

  “Oh, well, I…”

  “Hey, Steve?” You call, looking over your shoulder.

  He blinks at you, Brit’s fingers on his forearm now and swirling circles into it. “Ye-yeah?”

  “I’m out of tape,” you respond sharply.

  “And?” His brows furrow at you.

  “Can you get me some more, or are you too busy not doing your job?”

  His eyes narrow under furrowed brows but then he turns to Brit, voice low and daring to sound smooth now, “Sorry, babe, I gotta get back to work, but I promise I’ll call this time?”

  Brit smiles, gives a nod and a little wave with her fingers and then the scent of peaches is replaced with cedar and mint. 

  You smack another piece of tape haphazardly to the window. 

  “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” His voice comes from right behind you, and you don’t dare turn around and face him.

  “You have that tape?”

  “Yeah,” Steve scoffs, handing a roll over your shoulder, his breath hot against the back of your neck, “Looks like you missed a spot.”

  “Thanks,” voice biting as your fingers yank the tape from his.

  He snorts, hand pressing to the glass next to your waist, “I seriously cannot believe you have the audacity to be jealous.”

  Your knees wobble as you spin and he steadies you again, hands on your hips and just low enough for you to look down at where your bodies press together as you swallow. Steve raises his eyebrows at you, expectantly, waiting.

  “What? You want a reward for using audacity correctly in a sentence?”

Steve’s jaw pulses, his forehead furrows again, but then you tack on, “And I’m not jealous.”

  His fingers squeeze involuntarily and he shakes his head slowly. 

  “There you go again, what’d I say about that, huh?”

  Chests heave with each of your intense breaths, his tongue wets his lip as you swallow and push against the glass behind you.

  “I have no reason to be jealous,” you respond quietly as Steve’s fingers brush back and forth under the hem of your shirt. “I hate you.”

  Steve’s eyes shift in color, darker, like the forest is being covered with storm clouds as he shakes his head no again, “Quit,” he takes a deep breath, exhaling the word as he tilts his chin, “Lying.”

  The chime above the door rings and Robin’s honey tinted waves are bouncing under it as she looks around. Steve takes a step back from you, pink cheeked and swallowing, hands shaking a little as you quickly climb down. 

  Your eyes avoid his as you grab your bag and wave to Robin, mumbling something about seeing her tomorrow. 

  You’re not even surprised at the lyrics that fill your car when you start it.

  “I ran. I ran so far away. I just ran, I ran all night and day…

I couldn’t get away.”

Hawkins, Indiana - Thursday A.B.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  Thunder booms overhead when you ask, like it’s protesting this conversation.

  Robin sits on top of the counter across from where you lean, tossing skittles in the air and catching them.

  Or well, trying to catch them. 

  A yellow one evades her and joins a green and blue one on the floor as she says, “Shoot.”

  Your fingers fiddle with the button on your vest that says ‘May The Force Be With You’ as Robin foregos throwing and starts to dump the bag directly into her mouth.

  “How…” your arms cross as you sigh and squint out the window at the gloomy evening, “How’d you become friends?”

  “Wha?” She asks around rainbow goo, blue eyes blinking rapidly as your nose wrinkles at the sight.

  She swallows quickly and waves her hands for you to elaborate, “What?”

  “How’d you become friends…” you swallow down the butterflies that ache to come out just from saying his name, “With Steve?”

  “Oh,” she says, softly. 

  “We just,” you’re back to fiddling with buttons, with the keys of the computer, “We never really talked about it, y’know? Like you hated his guts just like me and then all of a sudden you were tricking us into movies together. And getting him this job. Helping him with…”

The unspoken activities of last week hang in the air and she smiles tightly. 

  “Right, um, well,” she scratches at the back of her neck, legs swinging as she blows out a breath. “We worked together, at Scoops, remember?”

You nod as she continues to ramble, talking with her hands and skittles spilling on the floor as she does, “And well, aside from making me laugh all summer and actually being not so terrible at conversation and listening like I’d pegged him for, there was this one night, where we got a little high and he…we were playing truth or dare.”

  She trails off and looks at you, pink cheeks and biting her lip and you stand up straighter.

  “You what? You didn’t…”

  “No!” Robin shudders, she waves her hands, “Absolutely not! He…” She groans and looks out the door and hops down, pacing as she mumbles, “Gonna freaking kill me.”

  “What?”

  “Uggh! I asked him if he’d ever been in love.”

  Your heart beats erratically, like it’s trying to keep up with the constant pelt of rain against the pavement, like each thump is trying to break you from the inside out. 

  “And? His answer made you become best friends for life?”

  Robin shrugs, “Sort of, yeah.” She smiles, avoiding your eyes as she fiddles with the skittles wrapper. “This guy who seemed so high and mighty, so douchey, so…well, you know how he is,” she waves a hand with a laugh, “After a Summer of proving all of that wrong, making me eat my judging ways, this dingus goes and tells me that he isn’t sure what it’s supposed to feel like, but he’s pretty sure he felt it holding this girl’s hand on a ferris wheel when he was twelve.”

  Robin tosses the wrapper in the trash with a sigh, “And I don’t know. I folded. Now, whenever he says something dumb, whenever he’s an idiot, all I see is a guy laying on my floor telling me that. All I see when I look at him is this front covering up for a kid who thinks love is holding a girl’s hand. Who wouldn’t want to be friends with a guy like that?”

  “Did,” you start quietly, almost so quiet you’re not sure you’re even saying anything. The words muffled by rain and thunder and your heartbeat,

“Did he tell you to tell me that?”

  “What?” She asks, wrinkles deepening under parted bangs. “No, absolutely not. He told me if I ever told anyone that my ass was grass.” She snorts and rolls her eyes. 

  Robin never knew how you met Steve. She never knew why you hated him, you just bonded over the fact that you did. 

  She frowns at you, “Why do you as…oh shit.”

  You’re certain she’s connected the dots you already have but then she’s looking over your shoulder and your mouth is parting at the sight of who’s running with his jacket over his head towards the store. 

  He shakes out hair as the door chimes, swiping at his eyes as he starts up and down the aisles, searching and your hands start to shake. 

  “Go in the back room, I can manage till he’s gone,” she says softly behind you, nudging you towards the back of the store and away from the man dressed in a nice suit squinting at new releases. 

  Your head nods as you quickly and as quietly as possible make a break for it. 

  But then you trip on the Predator cut out and his voice sounds just like it did all those years ago.

  “Well, what do we have here?”

  “Hi,” you scramble to your feet, floundering with the cut out pieces as you mumble his name, “Brendan.”

  He tilts his head at you and has the nerve to smile at you, “Thought that was you! You look…”

Your body warms under his appraisal, his hold nothing back rake of his eyes over you from head to toe and back up. Only hotter when he says, “Different.”

  “You…” your mouth is dry, suddenly able to recall all the things you’d planned to say to him if you ever saw him again. A plan to rub all of your success in his face, hopes of having another beer to toss. 

  Brendan squints at you, then around the store. He scoffs, “So…this is what you’re doing, huh?”

  You’re faintly aware of the door chiming as you take a step away from him, back pressed to the shelves as he takes a step towards you, arm caging you in. “What’s a girl like you, still working in a place like this, babe?”

  Why can this guy do this to you? How does he make you feel so small? 

  “Don’t…don’t call me that.” 

  Your head shakes, but that seems to be about the only thing your body remembers how to do. 

  Brendan pouts his lips, mistaking your breathless panic as being smitten, as being nervous around him for a totally different reason. “You used to like it.”

  He touches your waist and in your peripheral you see Robin take a step towards the phone as he speaks lowly, “You know, I never thanked you.

After you threw that beer at me and he kicked my ass, I actually took it seriously. Passed Biology, graduated. I work at a law firm now.”

  His hand runs up your waist, squeezing just below your ribs as he leans in, “I feel like I should take you out, to say thank you, babe.”

  Your mouth parts, but someone else beats you to it.

  “Pretty sure she made it clear not to call her that.”

  Brendan backs away from you, if only slightly, to look at Steve standing at the end of the aisle. 

  “Seriously? Go ring up my rental,” Brendan snorts, tossing the tape at him harshly before he turns back to you. “Where were we, babe?”

  Steve’s reflexes let him catch it, while he glares and grits through clenched teeth, “Call her that one more time, see what happens.”

  “I’m not a drunk high schooler anymore Harrington, don’t think I have anything to worry about. Right bab-“

  Steve’s fist connects with Brendan’s jaw, sending him staggering away from you. Steve’s eyes are on you, frantic as he breathes heavily and pants out, “Are you oka-shit!”

  Brendan barrels into Steve, knocking him down to the ground, fists connecting with his stomach and the side of his head. 

  You shout out both of their names, shoving at Brendan to get off of Steve who coughs after the hits stop coming. 

  Brendan staggers to a stand, swiping at a bloody nose and spitting at Steve. You stand and shove at his chest, “Get out! Before we call the cops on you, you arrogant, pathetic-“

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Brendan waves you off, “Fucking deserve each other.”

  The door swings shut behind him, and you stare ahead, breathing heavily, sure it’s the rain running down the glass making your vision blur. 

  “Steve?” Robin’s on the ground next to his head.

  He moans, but motions for her to help him up as you turn back around, so she swats at his chest, “Why’d you do that! What is wrong with you? He could have killed you, you idiot!”

  “Christ Robin,” he grumbles, “I’m fine, just-hey.”

  Steve’s over to you in two steps, bloodied and bruised hands cupping your cheeks and swiping at them. 

  Even through blurred vision, you can see the bright reds and darkening purple on his forehead, your fingers brush the scrape that’s just above the two freckles on his cheek. 

  “Thanks,” you hiccup out of a sob trying to break.

  “Of course,” he murmurs, thumbs still brushing over your cheeks gently, “What are…” he swallows, “What are friends for?”

  The sob cracks just as the thunder does and Steve shakes his head, eyes big and worried, “Hey, hey, come on, that asshole is not worth these and I’m not either and-“

  “St-Steve,” you sniffle, interrupting him. Trying to reign in all the extremely big feelings that have been held back for a long time, “Will you drive me home?”

  He looks surprised but quickly nods, “Yeah, yeah of course honey.”

  “Steve, I really don’t think you should be dri-“

  Robin’s hesitation cut off from the look he gives her and answered only with her eye roll. 

  Your hands shake in your lap, fingers playing with the seams of your jeans as Steve drives silently. The radio plays softly, lost in the rain pelting the windshield and the swoosh of the wipers getting it off. It’s only when you make it to your street that you finally are brave enough to talk again. 

  “How,” you clear your throat, sniffling away any residual tears, “How are you doing? With the storm I mean?”

  “Oh,” Steve nods, frowning at the road, “Yeah, good.”

  “Was that…was it real?” Gaze falling to your lap as you dare to ask.

  “What?” He stops at an intersection, looking over at you, ducking his head to catch your gaze. “What do you mean? The storms? There’s no way, you gave them too much credit. Those kids are smart, but they’re not that smart.”

  “No, I mean…are you even afraid of storms? Or was that just another part of the plan? Was it real?”

  Steve blinks at you until a horn honks behind him and he nods as he pulls away, “Yeah, yeah it was real.”

  You nod and he looks at your profile as you stare out the windshield, tear stained cheeks and bottom lip bitten raw, your hands won’t stop fiddling with things. When he pulls into the parking lot of the complex, he faces you. 

  “Is that why you won’t talk to me? You won’t even be my friend? Because you think it wasn’t real?”

  Your shoulders rise in a shrug, heart beating harder than it ever has as Steve shakes his head. He reaches for you, but hesitates, murmuring a plead.

  “Please look at me honey?”

  Your exhale is shaky, eyes watery again as you do what he’s asked. Heart’s What About Love starts playing. You close your eyes, shaking your head with a laugh as you swipe at your cheeks. 

  When you open them again, Steve is watching you carefully, and he speaks so softly, so sincerely, like he wants you to have to lean in to hear what he has to say.

  “Everything was real. Eddie let me take you to the diner and Robin put on Peter Gabriel, but that’s it. I swear, honey. How you reacted to those things, what I said, what you said, all of it, was real. And I thought, at my house, I thought it was clear how much I want you.”

  Tears rapidly fall down your cheeks as you nod, “Okay, but, what happens if you only want me because you can’t have me?”

  “What?” Steve looks at you, frowning, eyes glassy.

  Your hands swipe at your eyes as you shrug again. “What happens when you get what you were chasing, but another, more challenging want, comes along?”

  He swallows, looks up at you with his own watery eyes, “You really think that’s all I want? Do you hate me that much?”

  Images of your hand in his on a ferris wheel stir in your mind, of what could have happened after you threw that beer in Brendan’s face, images of a kiss and another kiss and another until you’re crying again. 

  As you lean over the console, you whisper against his skin before pressing a kiss to the two freckles on his cheek.

  “Never hated you.”

  You’re quick to climb out of his car, and run through the rain up your stairs and slam the door on the storm. Your back falls against it as you suck in a breath and cry, the lamp and radio flicking on as you do. 

  Heart’s song that was just playing in his car stops, and a familiar tune starts playing. It’s melody making you think of Steve between shelves, whistling. Making you think of a pool table in a basement on Cornwallis Street. 

  Your hand swipes at your cheeks as you try to get your breathing under control. 

  What if Steve Harrington has been chasing you all these years, but it’s never been about the chase, he just didn’t know you kept changing the rules and finish line on him? What if all he’s ever wanted was to run the race alongside you?

  Robin’s voice accompanies REO Speedwagon’s, making you spin towards the door. 

  Who wouldn’t want to be friends with a guy like that?

  As you fling the door open, wondering if you can catch him, Steve’s fist raises to pound on it.

  He stands on the stoop, rain pouring down, making his hair stick to his forehead and his eyes squint. 

  “Give me one more chance,” he breathes heavily, his car lights and wipers still going from the space below. 

  The music from inside your apartment plays loudly as he takes a step towards you and keeps pleading.

  “I’ll literally get on my knees right now, honey. I am begging you, to give me one chance. One date. No help from Eddie or Robin. Nobody. Just me, and you. Let me prove it’s real. Let me prove it to you?”

  It’s the moment right before a storm starts, when it’s like the earth is taking a deep breath of, soaking up the silence before it won’t get a chance of clam again for who knows how long. 

  He blinks at you through rain droplets clinging to his eyelashes, squinting under a bruised forehead and pouting through kissable lips. Your voice wobbles even after you shove the butterflies back down, giving them no chance to escape, not yet. 

  “Ask me nicely.”

BICFTF TAGLIST: Thank you SO much 💛

@ash5monster01 @madaboutjoe @foreverinwanderlust @the-fairy-anon @scarletwitchgf

@curlsincriminology @siriuslysmoking @redbarn1995 @starry--sarah @starksbabie

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@halfburntout @belle101200

[fertilize-my-eggs]

“ why can't I get a girlfriend huh?? ”creepy incel shigaraki x fem chubby reader noncon smut

A/N: hello!! This modern quirkless au oneshot, I don't have any plans for this one sorry. This is more of fanon unhinged feral shigaraki and extremely delusional asf in this. If I miss any tagged let me know and I'm sorry if it isn't proofread!! ( There the full story in A03 )

“ why can't I get a girlfriend huh?? ” 

It's echoing in your mind as he holds your neck tightly with his slim fingers, how did you get here? 

Well you were having a terrible day, seeing this strange blue haired man everywhere you go.

At first you just saw him as a regular customer while you were working at a game store, he happened to appear out of nowhere in the middle of the night.

He taps on your shoulder as he gives you an unnerving nausea, you try your best to be polite.

“ What can I help you s-sir? ” this man didn't know any personal space as he leaned in and said.

“ Any options on this game? ” He rasfully spoke as he tapped on a cover that looked like an RPG with cute anime girls on it.

You were clueless when it comes to games, you look into his blood red eyes.

“ uhh… it's a great game, with a strong main character with a love stor- ” he rolled his eyes as he huffed in annoyance.

“ ughhh does it have sex scene in it?? ” you blink at him a few times.

“ Excuse me? ” There was long awkward silence as you felt a chill run down your spine as you tried your best not to judge a customer too fast.

“ well I've never played it but- ”

“ but? How the hell did you get this job in the first place if you don't know any game… npc females.. ” he whispers the last part quietly but you hear it loud and clear as you cleanse your throat.

“ I'm sorry sir. ” he ignored you completely as he put the game back on the shelf as he collected the games he was interested in. You rushed to the register as he put the games on the countertop.

You felt unsafe by this one customer but it's your night shift and it was your closing time. 

All you have to do is scan the products and send him on his way home, you grab one game at a time as you scan it. Maybe he was just grumpy and had a sour mood today or…

You flinched as his fingers resting on your hand as he said.

“... you.. are very beautiful.” you quickly removed your hand as you put a fake smile on.

“ Thank you… sir. ” he was giving you the ick and he didn't like how you reacted from his touch.

“ your cost is $67.45, would you like a bag sir? ” he nods his head as he remains quiet, watching you put the games into the plastic.

He grabs the bags as he walks to the door to leave, you thought you'd never see him again but boy are you wrong.

You started to feel a pair of eyes staring behind your back whenever you went to your job, you spotted him in a public area. At first you thought you'd had hallucinations seeing him and his long blue locks hidden in his hood, all black clothing as he disappeared into the crowd of people.

You noticed little things disappearing as well, you couldn't find your dirty panties. You were quite messy by leaving your clothes around the house, you were able to find them sooner… but it never comes back, your pillow cover has a questionable sticky texture and it smells horrendous!

It's been a couple of days, you decided to report it to the cops about your stalker but they simply told you that they'll take action if he does something… meaning they weren't gonna help you out and you were helpless.

You were woken up by him in your pitch black room, his hands at your throat not too harsh but it was firm.

You couldn't speak as you begin to tear up.

“ hello.. y/n. Aren't you glad to see me? "You could see his sharp eyes staring at you as he began to speak.

“ I don't understand…” he tilted his head as he loses it a bit so you could breathe a little.

“ I try to be nice.. but every female always rejects me, they always want a male that treats them like trash.”

“ They call me ugly weirdo… a freak of nature.” his fingers lightly rubbed your skin.

“ I’m a nice guy I-...” he leans in so close that your noses are touching.

“ I don't understand… ”

“ Why can't I get a girlfriend huh?? ” he raised his voice. It's echoing in your mind as he holds your neck tightly with his slim fingers.

“ I'll treat you right, give you everything baby. ” he slowly licks your cheek.

“ I'll let no npc hurt you…I'll murder them just for you ~. ” this man is a psychopath, you need to escape but somehow he reads your mind as he begins to chuckle.

“ trying to leave? You're not in your own room darling.. you're tied up in my room, I'm surprised you didn't wake up. You're a heavy sleeper hahaha ~ ” you blink a few times to process what he said as he removes his hands.

“ What the hell are you talking about?!? Are you insane??? ” you begin to sob out, taking the air in as he flickers the light. He was right it wasn't your room, it was far different from yours as you noticed familiar underwears on the floor.

“ I grew tired of jacking off to your filthy panties so I want the real thing.. "You were yank harshly as he spread your thighs wide.

“ Stop!! release me plea- ” you cry out, feeling his rough lips on your sensitive area, you start to squirm fast as he surp you like it was his last meal. It was so sloppy and  inexperienced, this man didn't know how to please a woman.

You yelp as your eyes look down at him, he rubs your skin softly as he growls.

“ stop moving like that unless you want harsh punishment? ” You were unable to speak due to how terrifying this situation is and you don't want him upset, who knows how he will act.

You shake your head but he slaps your thighs hard as you sob out.

“ I need words. "You look away as you look back to his vermilion eyes.

“ no.. ” he wasn't having it but you could see the faint smirk on his lips, he clearly enjoys this.

Sicko… 

“ you're my little plaything.. my player two mhmm~ ” you arch your back up feeling his hot mouth on your pussy, you made a high pitch moan as he slid his digits into your hole.

“ ohh god~!! ” his hungry lustful eyes stare at you.

Tongue flick your clit in harsh circles, his fingers crossed, push up your wall to find it..

Your eyes blink the tears away, you can't let this man have his satisfaction so you bite your lips and look away.

His hand landing on your thighs again as you scream in pain.

“ Keep staring at me… you really want me to punish you so bad hehe~.. ” your eyes wide in fear.

“ no!! Please don't. ” You begged him but he chuckled and went back to eating you out.

His arm wrapped around your thighs as he used his thumb on your clit, rubbing it fast and hard circles.

You couldn't wait any longer as your unwanted orgasm hit you fast, your eyes rolled back and your toe curled in.

“ shit… ahh fuck.. ” you pant heavily, feeling the bed move by him humping the sheets. You can hear his pathetic whimpers and groans as he swallows all your juices.

It's felt like hours as you're crying hard from the overstimulating, he continues to eat you out and bring out three orgasms.

“ please… no more. "You pant heavily, he gives a few sloppy kisses to your clit then finally move away.

“ We're just getting started with this gameplay~ you need to be trained to take this cock hehehe~ ” he purrs sweetly, seeing his face covered in your cum.

“ Please let me go, I don't want this... ” he rolled his eyes at you and he begins to mock your voice.

“ I don't want this, I wanna go home!! You're NOT leaving coz you're mine~!!! Your home is here with me. Don't you understand that!! ”

He grabs your neck firmly as he leans in.

“ I'm your boyfriend… shigaraki tomura~ ” you blink at him, you think you hear his name on the news being a japan world wanted criminal what the hell is he doing here in this country??

He has no patience as he grabs his thick long cock to your entrance as he begins to slide in, you scream at him to stop.

“ stop!!! it's fucking hurt! Please-. ” he covered your mouth fast.

“ God you're such a brat-... don't know how to shut up… mhmm but you feel so good and tight aughh~ ” he pushed more of it, pulling out slowly as he looked down.

“ oh… I see why it was hurting, you're losing your virginity.. ahh it's okay baby~ we are losing it together.” the blood covers his whole length as you closed your eyes tight, your mouth was open letting out a silent scream.

He caresses your cheek tenderly.

“ soon I'll destroy your mindset, you're become my wife… fuck~ ! ” His body language changes as he thrusts faster and harder into you.

“ Soon you'll carry my children.. ahhh  shit can't wait until you produce milk.. ” he leans in to bite your nipples, sucking it gently as he humping your body. Your mind went blank and a sobbing mess from the unwanted pleasure.

He harshly pushes your thighs to your head as he moves at fast paced.

“ I can't wait to see you nice and round of our baby ~. ” he kisses your breasts softly.

“ we got plenty of time to breed your insides~ aughh fuck~!! Want to make you a perfect mommy.. ” he whimpers out, his cock sliding in and out of your slippery cunt.

He covered your mouth as he smirk wide.

“ I'll fuck a baby into you in many rounds until you're full with my cum. ” he sigh heavy, your shaky eyes couldn't see him properly as you feel your head getting a headache and see blackness around.

“ Are you ready player two? Ready for our new save? A new life together you and I~ ” you felt heat in your core as he made a high pitch groan releasing his white thick cum hitting your wall, you felt it filling fast as you cried out and he removed his hand to passionately make out with you.

The cries were muffled as he bit your bottom lip, pulling it away as he rode his high. He called out your name and his dick twitched excitedly as he pants.

He kisses your face sweetly.“ I love you.. I love you Y/n you'll never leave… and if you do. ” you knew he was just manipulating you, his whole act seem so fake as his eyes have a shine in them.

“ you'll get a severe punishment if you do~ ” his thumb rubs your lips softly.

“ you're mine… you're my beautiful wife.. ” he looked down to rub your belly tenderly.

“ our beautiful baby as well~.. ”

“ you're insane.. ” he looked into your eyes and coo sweetly.

“ insane? No no no baby.” he pulled your face close.

“ I'm only insane for you.. my love for you is passion and if anyone touches what is mine. ” he grabs your neck softly.

“ they will die..” he begins to move his hips as you begin to cry.

“ You belong to me~.. ”

[pathetichimbos]

Hii! May I request Thomas Hewitt overhearing reader talk with her friends and saying that she came across this very cute guy whom she smiled at when they accidently made eye contact? (The guy is, of course, Tommy <3) And maybe Tommy spares her afterwards and decides to hide her away so that Hoyt doesn't order him to turn her into a human stew-

Thank you!

You're Mine

Includes: Thomas Hewitt / F!Reader

SFW

TW: Hoyt is a creep again / Very very slight Yandere!Thomas

...

Thank you for sending in this ask! Sorry for the long wait time and I hope you enjoy!

The cool wind rushed across your face, whipping around your body and sweeping through your hair as you leaned back on your own hands.

Your eyes stared up to the bright blue sky, a few tuffs of cloud floating idly through the giant blue mass as you sped down the highway, your best friend behind the wheel.

You were sat in the passenger seat, feet planted on the dashboard as the radio blasted loudly enough to try and rival the open hood of the convertible.

Carly was screaming along to the music, open beer in hand as she swung around her seat behind you, loud laughter repeatedly breaking up her own singing.

Brooke was singing as well, pausing often to puff on the cigarette stuck in her left hand, the smoke immediately obliterating in the harsh winds as soon as it left her lungs.

You three had been on the road for two and a half hours, not even making it a quarter a way through your trip. Time was dragging on as Brooke sped past the desolate Texas fields, pushing well past the speed limits.

Carly's laughing suddenly dies down as she leaned past the front seat, turning the radio down to match her new tone.

“Hey, look! There's a gas station up ahead!” She pointed at the large red sign standing prominently on the side of the road, the faded red and white paint being about the only thing you can register about it as you quickly pass it.

“Oh, perfect, we're almost out.” Brooke sighed, flicking her cigarette butt to the road.

“I told you to fill up before we left!” You furrowed your brows as you looked your friend up and down, “We sat at that first place for twenty minutes, what gives?”

“Not the cute cashier, that's for sure.” Carly giggled as she wrapped her arms around your neck and leaned her chin on the seat, “You know how our Brooke is, always the romantic.”

You rolled your eyes and playfully nudged her, “Oh, like you're one to talk. Didn't you tell Freddy and Taylor you'd go out with them next week?”

“But I've got taste,” She insisted, “My men have to have culture. I don't just go for the first cute gas station clerk that comes my way.”

“Oh, get real, Carls,” Brooke scoffed, “The only 'culture' Taylor has is whatever's growing on his dick after sleeping his way through the entire town.”

Their smiles were wide as they continued to poke playful fun at each other, filling the few minutes it took to find the gas station with conversation and laughter.

The station wasn't anything fancy, no one in sight as the three of you parked next to one of the only two gas pumps out front.

The building was old and small, the white paint faded and chipping off the sides from the apparent decades it spent under the relentless Texas sun.

The glass door was smudged and unclean, the pumps rusted and stained, and the air was filled with the red dust Brooke's car had stirred up from driving through the dirt that laid out in front of it.

You couldn't help but think of how perfect this scene would be in a horror movie.

“Here.” Brooke dug a ten out of her small pink purse, shoving it your way.

“Why do I gotta go into the creepy old gas station?” You frowned, still taking the bill.

“Because I'm pumping the gas and Carly's already drank so much she's about to piss herself.”

You turned back to see Carly had already evacuated the back seat, hurrying off to look for the bathrooms.

You sighed and gave in, stepping out of the car and taking the opportunity to stretch as you made the short walk to the front door.

The metal was hot as you swung the door open, the creaky hinges screaming out as the heavy, rancid smell of old meat swept through your nose.

You couldn't help but cringe a little, nose scrunching and feet faltering at the old pig set inside the glass counter of the small deli to your left.

You brushed it off and stepped up to the counter to your right, greeting the older woman with a smile as she puffed on her cigarette.

She looked you up and down, a slight scowl on her face as she nodded at you.

“I need ten on, uh...” You glanced back through the door, “...The pump that's closest to the door.”

“Ain't got no gas.” She deadpanned, leaning on the counter with one hand as she looked down to the ten you had sent on the counter.

Your heart dropped and you sighed, crumbling the bill in your hand, “Is there another gas station around here?”

“Not for another fifty miles.”

“I don't know if we can make it that far. Do you know when you might get some more gas?”

“'Fraid those pumps haven't worked for the better part of five years.”

You let out a huff and chewed your bottom lip, “I- I don't, uh... I don't suppose you have any idea of what we could do?”

She let out a long sigh through her nose and rubbed the butt of her cigarette into the ash tray, “I can call the sheriff. I'm sure he won't mind taking you to the nearest station.” She punctuated her sentence by looking you up and down once again.

That implication made you more than a little uncomfortable, but knowing Carly and Brooke were with you was enough of a comfort let her call the man.

The lady turned to the phone behind her, spinning the dial as you tapped your foot impatiently.

You were looking around the station, taking in the old, dusty atmosphere as you waited for the sheriff to pick up on his end.

Flies buzzed, darting around the room as the dull lights flickered in the empty display fridge across the store, a couple of old wooden tables and matching chairs filling the space between it and the shelves.

A small radio sat stiff and silent on the table behind the counter, right beside the phone the lady was speaking into.

“Sure you ain't. And I don't know, only one of 'em came in.”

You balanced on the balls of your feet for a moment, letting out a short sigh as you finally tuned into the one side of the conversation you could hear.

“Watch your tone, boy.” Her voice was threatening as she pulled the phone away from her ear, “How many of y'all are there?”

Your brows furrowed as you stopped for a moment.

It was a bit of a strange question, but you supposed that he would need to know how many people he'd be driving, so you brushed it off and gave her an answer.

“Three, including me.”

“There's three of 'em.” She didn't acknowledge your answer as she continued speaking on the phone.

You pursed your lips as the faint sound of a loud man drifted from the phone, but you had no idea what the hell he could be saying.

“If you say so. I'll see you in a bit.” She finally responded before hanging up the phone and turning to you, “He says it'll be about five minutes.”

Hope blossomed in your chest as you thanked her profusely, “I'll go tell my friends.”

She didn't say anything as you hurried out the door, meeting Brooke and Carly at the car.

“The pump ain't workin', Y/N. What gives?” Brooke was repeatedly pulling the trigger as the pump sat in her gas tank.

“She said they don't have no gas, and the next station ain't for another fifty miles.”

“Oh, what the hell...” Carly groaned from the backseat where she had been laying out, sunglasses protecting her eyes from the harsh light.

“Don't worry, she called the sheriff and he's gonna come give us a ride!” You explained, climbing back into the passenger seat, “She said it'll only be five minutes.”

Brooke huffed as she put the pump back in place before climbing into the drivers seat, “Just our luck, eh?”

Carly shot up, beaming, “It could be! I bet the sheriff is an absolute hottie.”

You snickered, “In a place like this? He's probably a hundred years old!”

“Hey, Carly likes the gray foxes.” Brooke smirked, leaning back on her seat to face the two of you.

“Oh, sick.” She made a gagging face and grabbed her throat, “You are a freak, Brooke!”

“There's nothing wrong with an older guy!” You defended the idea, “They're more mature.”

“Oh, so you're the freak.” Brooke laughed, “It would be you, you've always been a weirdo.”

“True! Remember when we went to that haunted trail a few years ago and she hooked up with one of the zombies!?” Carly pointed out, making you groan.

“Don't remind me. He was such a clinger, I practically had to fake my own death to get him off my leg.”

The conversation continued flowing easily, as it always did between you three.

Before you knew it, the loud slamming of a car door caught your attention and halted your conversation as the three of you looked ahead to the sheriff's car parked some feet ahead of your car.

And older man began walking from the driver side, graying and white hair, a matching, thin, goatee stained by the dip he haphazardly spit to the ground.

“Oh, nasty.” Carly whispered, pulling a face, “He really is old.”

“Don't say that!” Brooke nudged her with her elbow before gesturing to you, “You'll give the old home's heartbreaker here a boner.”

You gently slapped her shoulder, “Shut it, he's coming this way.”

“Who's that in the passenger seat?” Carly asked no one in particular, sitting up further to get a closer look.

“Well, howdy there, ladies. What brings you to this little slice of paradise?” The sheriff drawled, a creepy smirk on his face as he finished crossing the path to Brooke's door, leaning a little too close for comfort.

“Just passing through, sir.” Brooke gave a tight smile, leaning back a little, “Ending up running out of gas.”\

He tsk'd a little, shaking his head, “Well, that just won't do, will it?”

You tried your best not to pull a face as your attention turned back to the sheriff's car, hearing the passenger door finally open and close.

Out stepped a man, much much different from the first person to emerge.

He was tall, towering over the car as he shuffled in place, head hanging low as his eyes stayed trained on the sheriff.

His long, black curls brushed against his shoulders, and seemed to be held down by the homemade mask covering his face, though you couldn't see any finer details from here.

He wore an old, dirty dress shirt, and black slacks to match, almost as if he were in his Sunday best, despite the stains and wrinkles adorning his clothes.

As you stared he seemed to notice, eyes darting to focus on you.

A deep heat flooded your cheeks as you flashed an awkward smile before shrinking into your seat, and mostly out of his line of sight. Staying up just enough to peek back out at him often.

“Oh, don't worry about it.” You tuned back into the sheriff, flashing his stained teeth as he finally stood straight again, “I'll just go in there and tell Mama to keep an eye on your stuff and then I'll take care of y'all.”

You could practically feel Carly shuddering as he stalked off towards the gas station directly across from your car.

“Thomas!” The man yelled as he reached the doorway, and you watched as he motioned the second man over before whispering something to him none of you could hear.

Assuming he was going back into the gas station, you turned back to your friends, who seemed to be avoiding looking at the gas station all together, thanks to the creepy sheriff.

“What a fuckin' sicko!” Brooke shuddered, “I don't want to go anywhere with him!”

Carly nodded, making a sick face, “Did you see the way he kept staring at our boobs? I don't trust him!”

“Who gives a shit what you guys are talking about.” You loudly interrupted their quiet complaints, “Did you see that second guy!?”

They both shook their heads, having been too focused on the creepy advances of the sheriff.

“Oh my god.” You groaned, running your hands down your face, “He was so fucking cute. I'm talking tall, dark, brooding, absolutely huge build. Guy looked like he lifts in his sleep.”

“Uh, you mean that guy, right there by the door, who can absolutely hear your bat shit talk?” Carly pointed to the man, who was standing a few feet away, completely avoiding looking at the car now.

You face dropped and you slunk into the seat, practically screaming, “NO, oh my god he must think I'm such a freak.”

“Um, you kind of are.” Brooke leaned down and whispered, “He's not that cute.”

“You are so stupid.” You let out a sigh, “That man looks like what every man wants to be.”

“Well, maybe he didn't hear you.” Carly offered a small smile, “Even though he definitely did.”

“Fuck.”

“Go talk to him.” Brooke nudged you.

“No way! I'm not looking to embarrass myself even more!”

“It's too late anyways.” Carly reluctantly gestured to the sheriff who was now returning.

Brooke rolled her eyes as she turned to climb out of the car, “Come on, girls.”

You sighed as you followed suit, Carly not far behind.

Brooke was the first to make her way to the sheriff's car, opting for the backseat, much to your and Carly's dismay.

Not even giving you a chance, Carly darted ahead, loudly announcing, “I'll sit with you, Brooke!”

You groaned, knowing it would be rude to try and insist to sit in the back as well.

You glanced back to the station door, noticing Thomas was coming over too. You sighed this time, hoping that he'd take the front seat, as he seemed to know the sheriff better.

But before that even became an option, you heard the loud protest of Brooke and Carly as they pulled faces at the open back door.

“There's stuff all over the backseat! We can't even fit.” Carly pointed out.

“Oh, yea.” The sheriff mused, “Well, c'mon then. Start grabbing stuff, we'll throw it in the trunk.”

He opened the trunk and your friends gave you looks as they started grabbing armfuls of various things crowding the backseat.

You finished walking to the car, planning on helping but walking slow so there hopefully wouldn't be anything left for you to grab.

Thomas was only a few steps behind you, watching as you stood beside the open back door, waiting on your friends.

His hands twitched, and his mind was torn.

His entire life he was ridiculed and bullied.

If not for his deformities and looks, than for his lack of education and inability to fully understand and control his emotions.

When people looked at him, they saw a monster. A freak.

But... You didn't.

You, a complete stranger, if even just for a minute, thought he was cute.

Cute enough to tell your friends and feel embarrassed by his opinion.

You treated him like a normal person, for a brief moment.

And he was hooked.

He craved more, more of that feeling. To have someone look at him like he was normal, like he was more than just a deformed monster hiding behind a mask.

He wanted to get your attention again, to selfishly hear your sweet voice say more kind things, things that no one had ever said before.

He stared holes into the back of your head, trying to will you to give him just a little more of your attention.

He thought you were beautiful too, and he wondered if you knew.

Could you tell, with the way he stared every chance he got?

God, he didn't even now your name, but he needed to. He would do anything to learn more about you, to keep you close and safe.

He was so lost in his own thoughts and emotions he didn't even notice how severe the situation had gotten between the sheriff and your friends until you darted forward.

Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous. His mind screamed, his hand shooting out to stop you.

The skin of your wrist was so soft compared to his calloused hands, he never wanted to let go.

He wondered if the rest of you was just as soft.

Your confused eyes flickered back to his own, questioning him without any words being spoken.

He shook his head, tightening his grip just enough to get his message across without hurting you.

You were his now. And he would give his life to protect you.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

domestic jason hcs? >:)

(this ask feels self-indulgent but i was VERY inspired by this one buff dude i saw on insta reels baking in a not-so-sexual way but like women in the comments are down bad and i cant really describe it im so sorry 😭)

imagine waking up to jason baking something (doesnt have to be anything could just be bread). you wanna help but the only instructions he gives you is to sit pretty, wearing his shirt and all. everytime he moves around the kitchen, he give u a lil peck on the lips if hes close enough to you. youre just sitting pretty like he asked, watching this man work and looking a little love struck cuz all you wanna do is pull him down and give him the fattest kiss for being so husband material

(dude, im yearning so much. thank u for writing a lot for jason 💞 ALSO ive seen u around in the cod tag so another thanks for ur fics there too 💞)

I’m sticking with the prompt cause I had unholy thoughts. An thank you! I appreciate your appreciation for my works ✨

This may be the tiniest bit suggestive 🌝

Time Written - 5:51 a.m

Baking at an early hour was somewhat new for Jason.

Baking at an early hour after an intense ending to an incredible date night was incredibly new for Jason.

His hands were occupied with an intriguing scene of soft dough and hard, rich yellow butter on a marble countertop. His muscles at work folding in the pockets of butter into the dough, pressing it with the heels of his palms.

“Morning, mama.” His morning voice held that early rasp in his tone that tickled you just right. You reciprocated his greeting as you walk into the kitchen, dressed in one of his shirts he aggressively yanked off the night before.

There he stood in grey sweatpants. Baking something delectable for seemingly no reason.

“What’s the occasion?” You question as you approach the counter, admiring his bed rugged hair adding onto his every attractive appearance.

“Cloudy outside, which means baking time.”

“Baking time?” The slightest glance at your cheeky little grin made him amusingly scoff.

“Baked goods,” he clarified with a head gesture behind him. “Coffee’s ready for ya, babe.”

Soon, the kitchen will flood with the warm aroma of browning butter and cooking sugar, invading throughout your home for a very long evening. Neighbors will get jealous over the smell of bakery air, hopefully helping them ignore the noises prior to the other night.

It was quite a sight to watch, his muscles flexing with a focused flare along his brow. You almost didn’t hear his insistence the second time towards the cinnamon coffee waiting in the pot for you.

“Gonna stick around? You’ll get first glance at what I’m making.”

“Which is?” You pry, watching him approach the sink to wash his hands.

“Crossiants,” he admits after drying his hands, giving the tip of your nose a peck. “With chocolate.”

“Look at you, my man’s a baker.” You smile while leaning against the counter, feeling your heart throb romantically from his chaste kisses.

“Not what you expected, huh?”

“What, my Red Hood busting skulls and baking? So many single moms would chase after you if they could.”

That comment has him unexpectedly laugh. Not the worst thing he’s been told, so he’ll take it. Poor single mothers, too bad he’s already taken.

“I thought you meant the chocolate would be inside?” You ask after peeking at the dough he wrapped up in cling wrap.

“No,” He shakes his head. “See, I thought that, but I like the idea of dipping them into melted chocolate a whole lot better.”

“Where’d you get the inspiration?”

“France,” he amusingly huffs with a shrug after approaching to take the packet you handed to him. “Thanks baby. Where else?”

He slips the packet of buttered dough into the fridge before turning towards the stove, almost running into you as you beat him to it, peering into a saucepan full of melted chocolate.

“Hey, hey.” Cool, clean hands gently grasped hold of your shoulders, gently nudging you away from his little workspace. “Easy on those eyes, almost knocked you into an accident.”

“Need some help with anything?” You offer, reminding him of when he used to ask his mother the same question. Happy little memories that brought embers of warmth in his heart.

“You can be of huge help,” He begins, calloused hands grazing down along your fingerprint shaped bruised hips before hoisting you up in his arms like a little doll.

“By sitting pretty, an’ letting me work.”

He plops you down on a stool he pulled out from the island counter, giving you a perfect little spot to watch him work. You slouch after he turns away, watching him return to his little objective on the stove.

“You just melt chocolate in the pan like that?”

“Sorta,” Jason tilts his head after grabbing a spoon, stirring the smooth, ganache-like chocolate concoction around. “France’s version of hot chocolate. Some milk, cream, a little sugar.”

You hum as a response, watching the muscles along the back of his left shoulder move as he enacts upon such a simple, minor task. Jason probably said something else, along the lines of not wanting such a beautiful body of chocolate boil on the stove, but it wasn’t much of your concern as it was his.

Maybe your main concern was how exactly did the scratches you left along his back didn’t break skin, clinging onto him for dear life as they flexed along your greedy palms.

He probably knew that, he was hiding a smile for all you could tell if you paid any attention.

“My girl want a taste?” He offers, his real gaze snapping your mind back into reality. You nod, anxiously sitting up in your seat.

He spoons warm, melted chocolate on the top of your tongue, watching it dribble down your bottom lip. The pink of your little tongue swiped up the remnants, all for Jason’s adoring gaze to witness.

Your reaction varies upon the subtle lack of sweetness from the chocolate.

“It’s not that sweet. Is it dark—?”

Your words are stolen when he kisses you, cradling your face within his two warm hands after carelessly setting down the spoon.

His heavy lidded gaze meets yours after breaking off the kiss, his cheeks flushed with affectionate warmth.

“Don’t know,” his glistening lips curve upwards after licking his lips. “Tastes pretty sweet to me.”

He turns away, as if he hadn’t committed such a crime in the first place.

You’re left watching once again, anxious nerves preventing you from sitting still. Fidgety fingers lingering in your lap, grasping along the lower hem of your shirt.

“Also coffee,” Jason pitches as if he forgot. “Added a little espresso to enhance the taste. You, uh… never got your coffee, babe.”

Oh. Right. The first thing he told you when you came in.

“Sorry,” you sheepishly admit, slightly shifting your hips whilst on the stool. “Got a little distracted.”

He chuckles, not even needing a detective’s mindset to understand fully why. “Did you now?”

Not giving you a chance to answer, Jason sets the saucepan off the burner before turning full attention towards you. Swooping you off the stool you sat, hoisting you ontop of a warm, clean counter.

His torso pressed against yours, keeping you comfortably confined between a marble surface and a hard place. His hands caress along your torso, thumbs trickling over your stiff nipples through your shirt, still sore from his teeth marks.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbles against the shell of your ear. His lips press against your neck as you swallow, kissing down along your collarbone. “Figured you’d have stayed sleeping in ‘till I was done here. Guessin’ last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Your fault for putting on a show.” You whisper, hooking your legs the best you could around his broad waist.

He chuckles against your neck, his excitement as palpable as his pearly smile expressed. “Your fault for watchin’, mama.”

[heyhihellosworld]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 "𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭"

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Word count: 4.2k

Summary: Working on opposite teams but you have certain things in common

Warnings: Red bull, mentions of rb being sexist (made up things + some real things because let’s not sweep the reality under the rug), smut (very soft), fluff, angst. !Remember this is all fiction, I can’t speak on the whole team, this is a story!

Notes: I don’t really know what this is to be honest because it’s really random

Working in formula 1 was your dream since you were a kid. Your whole family was really into the sport and you had always been extremely interested in both motorsports and cars so naturally you had studied mechanics and engineering. The dream was to work in formula 1 so when you got accepted into the Red bull team the whole family had been ecstatic, you had reached the goal.

But things weren't as amazing as you'd wish. Red bull had never been your favorite team but you didn't think it would be like it was behind the scenes. You were well aware of the gender discrimination in the sport, the amount of women in the teams were scarse and the ones who were there was met with a strong sexism. You were ready for that to come from the outside but you weren't expecting it to come from your own team.

It was not something that was usually shouted in your face but it was these subtle things, things they did that you weren't even sure they recognized but it drove you crazy. You didn't feel trusted and the comments that were dropped were just hindsight sexist. You tried your absolute best because the work in itself was what you loved, what you wanted to do but it was hard when it felt like everybody looked down on you because of something so simple as your gender. You had enough education, even more than most of the men that worked close to you but that didn't seem to matter, you were still looked down at.

It didn't make it better that you were good friends with most of the drivers, the rumors only speeding on the sexism both from your team but also from the outside.

"What got you in such a mood?" Lewis chuckled at you, swinging his arm over your shoulder comfortingly as you stalked down the road.

"Take a guess" you muttered, still fuming from the previous interaction with your closest co-workers. Lewis sighed, nodding his head in understanding as his look transformed to one of consideration and sympathy.

"What was it this time?"

You stomped your feet to the ground, feeling extremely annoyed as you huffed. "I was doing my job, like always and then these fuckheads just took over, finishing MY WORK and guess what, they got all the credit for the amazing work I did, I DID!" you exclaimed in frustration feeling like putting your fist through a wall.

"I can't stand it anymore, it's all the fucking time and I never get to do my work!"

Lewis hummed, pulling you into his chest to try to calm your shaking anger. "I get it, I do" he tried but it didn't calm your anger at all. "You are really good at what you do y/n, don't let these jackasses tell you otherwise"

"I know I am good at my work! It just pisses me off that they see me as less talented or less trust-able when I am darn much better than them"

Lewis chuckled, pulling you into his side as he started to lead you along the paddock, one arm resting over your shoulders. "Always so humble"

Your eyelids hooded as you grumbled at him "I am, I just know that I know best at my tasks" Lewis nodded, not saying anything as he saw a certain Frenchman approaching you.

"Ah how are you doing miss 'I know right'" Pierre joked, his smile immediately dropping as he received your murderer glare, Lewis having to bite his lip to not burst out laughing. "Not the right time mate"

"I hate that name and fuck you" you spat at the Frenchman, his smile slowly returning at your annoyed demeanor. "What, I love that name, It suits you so well you know, you always tell us we're stupid and that you know better"

He didn't budge, laughing as he gave you a kiss on the cheek "I'm only messing with you, why are you so tense? Hasn't Lewis helped you get rid of the tension today?"

"Pierre fuck off!"

You had to stop yourself from punching him in the face as he laughed at his own joke "That was one time and if you don't let it go I will kill you, mark my words" you threatened but he didn't seem very offended or scared.

"I will never let that go y/n, you can't expect me to ever do that, not when I walk into my high regarded friend fucking the seventh time world-champion"

You groaned out lod, chuckling out your annoyance in a whine "Lewis please get rid of him"

The seventh time world-champion didn't follow your request, instead he laughed and prompted you to sit down on one of the benches along the paddock "Just sit here and I will get you something to eat" he chuckled, kissing your temple before leaving you with Pierre.

"Okay okay, don't kill me now I was only joking with you but seriously, what's up?"

You sighed, meeting his soft look "I'm sorry for being mean I just had a horrible day at work"

"Ah, how unusual" he spoke sarcastically, shaking his head at you. "I don't understad why you are still at that place y/n, it's shitty"

You sighed with a groan "I knooow! But it is still my dream work just at the worst possible place"

"Then switch, I'm sure any team would want your talent!"

"I've tried Pierre but Horner dosen't approve of it"

His face was one of confusion as he opened his mouth but he didn't have time to speak until Charles interrupted him, sitting down on the bench with a wide smile "Ah y/n, how are you?"

"All fine" you sighed, Pierre looking at you with a chuckle "Bad day at work" he explained to Charles who hummed in understanding "Aha, of course"

"Explain to me what you said before" Pierre asked, your head face-planting into the wood with a whine

"He wants to keep me because of my education and references who tells me that I am the best qualified for the work and if he fired me or whatever he would get called out for being sexist, plus he loves the praise he gets because he has diversity but still I cant do my fucking job!"

Lewis came back with a tray of food looking scoldingly at Pierre for not having changed the subject yet.

"Apply to other jobs y/n, even if it is less salary it'd be worth it and you have the right to quit, regardless of what Horner says."

"I will I will" you sighed, pouting at Lewis who put the food down in front of you smiling as you looked up at him "thank you"

He chuckled, kissing your temple as he sat down next to you as you offered some of your food to Charles as Pierre was already taking parts of your fries.

Lewis looked at you as you devoured your food with a soft smile. You had known the Brit for years now having met him in your study years when you had been at the Mercedes hq for a tour with your class. He had already then admired your determination to punch your way to the top and he hadn’t been surprised when red bull had hired you. In his eyes you were a rare breed and he loved your confidence and fire that made it so clear and obvious for you to be where you wanted to be. He loved you in every way and he didn’t even try to hide it.

It was already late, the day moved in faster than it should concidering all the paperwork you had left. Apparently that was the only thing you could do without any help. You were sat in one of the offices in the motor-home, finishing up for the evening.

"Why are you still here?"

You recognised the voice before looking at him, the big boss. You did your best to keep cool, shrugging your shoulders as you stood up. "I'm just finishing up"

Christian nodded, giving you a tight lipped smile as he watched you gather your stuff. "Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you shortly"

You huffed but answered politely "yeah sure”

"What have I done this time?" you sarcastically voiced as you took the seat he pointed you to.

"What is this y/n?" Horner asked with a pointed tone, one that made you annoyed without even knowing what it meant

"What?"

"This" he sighed, showing you his phone where a clear picture from a magazine showed you and Lewis on the bench, it was taken in the moment he kissed your temple after he'd gotten you food. It was a cute photo, both of you smiling at eachother.

"Uh, it's me?"

Horner sighed, annoyed over your bratty tone as you talked back. "Drop the tone y/n, i mean why are you hanging out with Lewis and more importantly why is he kissing you? It looks very bad on us if you are fraternizing with the drivers and especially with our enemy"

You sighed, looking at him monotony "He is my friend, what is wrong with that?"

"The wrong with that is that it looks like you are sleeping with him!"

His words took you aback "What? Just because I am with him you think that I'm sleeping with him?"

"It's what everybody thinks y/n! Stop hanging out with him or we will have a problem"

You shook your head "I won't say up our friendship just because your sexist brain"

"Y/n, watch your language"

"No you know what fuck you Horner, literally. I have come into this work with a better degree and better experience than any other of the people in my team, yet I can't do a single thing because nobody believes a woman can do shit in this team! Don't think I don't hear all the comments, and what about all the shit you say huh? Does those things include me, yeah of course they do because i'm only here because I want to fuck the drivers, sorry I forgot" you voiced sarcastically, letting all the pent up annoyance and frustration boil over as you stood up at the table, hating how he loomed over you when you sat down.

Christian didn't say anything as you took the few steps to the door. When your hand touched the handle you turned around with an sarcastic smile "Oh, I quit"

With that you left, slamming his door behind you as you stormed out of the motor-home with your computer under your arm.

Lewis furrowed his eyebrows as you walked along the dark streets in the paddock. Most of the people had already gone home, the clock ticking long over nine so to see you there surprised him.

"Hey y/n!" he shouted after you making you stop and turn around to locate the one searching for you. Your stressed face relaxed as you saw the Brit, jogging to catch up with you. "Hey Lew" you smiled, kissing his cheek as he smiled brightly, walking with you towards the parking lot.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked curiously, watching your shoulders shrug and face twist. "Well, Christian called me in for a one to one meeting"

"Ah and how did that go?" he chuckled sensing your body language

"Shit" you grunted, his smile warming your body. "What did he want?"

"Well he called me out for hanging out with the drivers and dug up some picture of us, telling me it looked bad for him and the team if I was around a lot of drivers and especially if I was fraternizing with the enemy" you sarcastically tilled, faking his impression to Lewis amusement.

"So, I quit" you added not daring to look at his face, scared to be met with the expression that you had been wrong.

"You did!?" Lewis asked, looking at you with a bright smile "Yeah" you tilled timidly, finally daring to look him in the eyes.

"Why do you look so scared?" he chuckled, giving you a hug from the side. “Because I don’t know if what I did was stupid”

Lewis shook his head confidently “no it’s not stupid at all”

You shook your head, feeling anxiety rippling through your body “Lewis, I just quit my job, I don’t have anything else available right now and I just quit what may have been my only chance to the job I want and dreamt of my whole life”

Lewis sighed, stopping you from walking any further “y/n, you’re gonna have more chances to this kind of job and don’t worry about quitting. I know you have enough savings for months and if that has changed I will help you. All I know is that it’s the best thing you could've possibly done”

You blinked up at him timidly “you really think so?”

His smile warmed your body as he nodded “you always say you know best but I think this is the only time I can completely agree with you”

You let the smile crawl over your face as you giggled “I don’t always say that!”

Lewis laughed with you “you kinda do”

You smiled at him as you stopped in front of your car, unsure of what to do or say. Nobody could make you so nervous and insecure as Lewis could. Not because he said anything mean or did anything but because you wanted to impress him all the time. You didn’t want to show any insecurities but therefore you became a mess every time he looked at you with his angelic eyes. He could make you squirm with one look but that was also what you liked about him.

“Do you want to come with me?”

Your words were quite and didn’t sound as good as you wished but Lewis didn’t seem to mind as he smiles “sure”

Lewis made sure you didn’t dwell on the work situation for the night. Helping you pack up the groceries you bought and making you loose your facade to order take-away. He talked you up and pulled some jokes, all to keep you away from the thoughts he knew you would drown in if you were alone

Your relationship with the man was very unclear. None of you really talked about it nor thought about it to much. It was what it was and it worked for the moment. Lewis loved you and everybody knew that. The seven time world-champion making it pretty obvious with the hearts eyes he always seemed to have whenever he looked at you. You loved Lewis too but you didn’t wanna label it. At least not for now. You had worked so hard to come into the business and you wanted to be secure and confident there before moving forward with him.

But you still spent more time with him than without him, spent almost every night wrapped up in his sheets but nothing was yet official and it didn’t have to be. Both of you content for the moment but you knew that soon enough you wanted some type of commitment and you knew he wanted it too, soon

“What do you think I should do?”

You popped the question that was etched in your mind. Having to air it for some kind of peace.

Lewis hummed in your ear. Your body laid on his. Head on his chest as you watched some lazy tv.

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

You groaned, tilting your head to look at him “no, what do you think I should do?”

“I think you should announce interest in other jobs and if you want to pursue your dreams and work in f1 you should go around and talk to the other stables. Look around and just announce your interest and soon enough you will get something and if not immediately you either take a break or you find something in between” he resonated lowly with a calm tone. Making you feel like there was no problem or drama.

“What if I never get another job like this” you mumbled in his neck. His hand caressing your back comfortingly.

“Then it was never meant to be. Would you rather stay there and never feel valued than find a job that makes you happy and make you feel valued?"

“I guess you’re right” you sighed into his soft skin.

He gazed down at you, softly tilting your face so you looked him in the eyes. “It’ll be okay, you will find a nice job that you love and I’m sure that you will find a work on the grid if that is what you want. You don’t have to worry, it will all sort itself out. Maybe not tomorrow but overtime and this truly was the best decision you could make. You deserve to go to work and enjoy it and be treated good”

“Thank you Lew” you smiled, softly pecking his lips. “No need to say thank you” he mumbled, slowly kissing you again. The kiss was slow but sweet and loving. His hand rubbed circles on your back and the other one still held your chin, keeping you in place as he kissed down your chin and over your neck.

His brown eyes asked the question he needed an answer to.

Your whole body felt electric, needing his touch needing to relax and get other thoughts in your head “Please” you whispered, leaning your head back on the couch to give him more space.

The pace was slow and soft. His kisses moving down your body before his determined tongue worked on your most sensitive spot. He did everything so annoyingly slowly but you still didn’t want to take control so you let him be. Let him tease you until you came over his amazing tongue.

His dick made you feel like you were outside of your own skin as he moved slowly inside of you, the position he had you in making your head spin.

It was all soft and slow. Not with the aim to fuck you fast and hard but with the aim to savour the moment and pamper you with love

And it made you fall even harder for the Brit.

You felt like you were laying on a cloud. Your body relaxing and head slowly working down until you felt completely content.

Lewis had thrown you some clothes before climbing in bed with you, his arms cradling you to his chest as you talked with soft voices.

“How do you feel for the race?” You hummed into the skin of his chest. “Uh I don’t know” he admitted your head nodding in understanding. “Last weekend was really good but the question marks still stand and I don’t know what this season will turn out like and it makes me… I don’t know, fidgety, angsty? I want control but I don’t have that”

“Well. I think it’s gonna turn out fine. You did such good improvements last season and you are already ahead of that, I mean you got your first podium like last race and now it was the third or whatever so it’s not done yet”

Lewis hummed, pulling you into him more, nestling his face into your neck. “It will be easier if I have you”

You giggled at his cheesy comment, trading your fingers through his curls softly. “Why are you laughing at that?” He asked feigning hurt which made you laugh out loud. “Because it was so cheesy!”

“Can’t say a single thing can I?”

“You can!” You giggled “just not something so cheesy”

Lewis chuckled, kissing your temple “that’s just how I am”

You smiled at him, feeling completely overwhelmed with him and how the fuck you had met someone like him. But just like that the moment was over and interrupted with your schrill ringtone. Lewis groaned reaching for it and handed it to you with an unimpressed look.

“Y/n! I didn’t think you would answer”

You groaned out a chuckle at Pierre’s voice rolling around to look at the ceiling. “Hey! For what do I deserve that tone?” Pierre exclaimed, he was clearly not at home. The sounds in the background loud enough to drown out his voice if it wasn’t for his yelling

“Where are you?” You asked, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet up your chin. “I’m out with Lando and Charles, come here!”

“Nah not today Pierre” you chuckled, meeting Lewis curios look and flashing him a smile.

“Whaaat why not, you love partying with me don’t you”

“Of course I do but not today”

Pierre was quite for a second “hey why did you call?” You tried to nudge him “ah well I heard you quit!”

“Yeah I did” you hummed, laughing at his excited scream “yeeeaa finally! Hey Charles said they may be looking for someone at Ferrari so go ask tomorrow!”

“I will, thank you P, but hey if that was it can we talk tomorrow?”

“Ye yeah of course, where are you by the way?”

“Uh” you started but he catched up immediately “your at Lewis’s aren’t you!”

You grunted in annoyance “Hey Charles! Y/n is at Lewis’s!”

You groaned, throwing your head back “Pierre!”

“What! Y/n!” You heard Charles yell from beside his friend, your eyes rolling at their childish behaviour. They all knew about the ordeal after all.

“Okay okay we talk tomorrow bye idiots, call me if you need anything and be careful” you scolded

“Yeah yeah mom bye byeee”

You shook your head with a smile on your face as you looked at Lewis. “Well they just wanted to ruin the moment” you smiled, slowly sinking down next to him in the bed again. “Well they know how to do that very well”

You laughed, pecking his lips with a hum of agreement. “At least they are good at something”

Nerves tickled through your body as you waited for the e-mail. It had been a week since you’d been at an interview for Ferrari. It was the exact same job as at red bull but hopefully a better team. You loved the vibe you got when you’d been in the interview. They had showed you around and introduced you to multiply people who worked there and to your happiness there were multiply women who would work close to you if they would give you the job.

“What time was it they said?”

Lewis voice broke the silence in the kitchen. He was cooking you dinner as you sat at the bar stools with your computer. Reloading the page over and over to see if any new mail had dropped in.

“They said the results would be out thirty, everybody who applied should get a email with either an invitation to the job or a no thank you” you explained for what felt like the hundredth time.

Lewis scoffed at your tone but the smile he held told you he wasn’t angry or upset with it. Knowing you were just so stressed to know.

“It’s gonna be fine, relax” he tried but you scoffed this time “no it will not”

“Even if this isn’t your job you will find another one, take a deep breath and relax”

It didn’t matter what he told you. This meant to much for you to be able to relax and he knew that as well he just didn’t want you to stress yourself up

“I’ve got an mail” you whispered as you saw the mail pop into your mailbox after you’d reloaded it yet again.

The man immediately dropped the spatula and hurried over to you. “We’ll open it” he chuckled at your grimace.

“What if-“

“No, open it and then we will take it step by step” he told you sternly, not wanting you to stress.

You did as he said with a sigh. Your heart beating fast as you read the message.

“I got it” you whispered out loud, not really believing it yourself yet. You read it again and again until Lewis scooped you up from the chair “see told you it would work out! I’m so happy for you”

The beam you held never faltered as you ate your delicious dinner and watched a movie with the man you more and more started to fall in love with.

“I will never get tired of seeing you in red” Charles grinned as you walked through the paddock, your smile mirroring his

“I will”

The bitter mutter from your boyfriend made you chuckle, kissing his cheek to turn his frown upside down.

“Oh come on, what happened to always support and love”

“I do support you” he defended “but that doesn’t mean I have to love it”

“I think you do love u it” Pierre cut in, Lewis shaking his head at his words “it’s always hot with that type of rivalry”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Pierre’s words nodding along with his reasoning

“Not all wrong”

Lewis didn’t answer he just pulled you closer with an protective arm around your waist

“Don’t like it” he muttered in your ear

[sugarnspice630]

Happy Halloween - Seonghwa

“You look so pathetic~.”

•pairing: dom!seonghwa x gn!sub!reader

•word count: 3.1k

•tags: mdni, smut, hide & seek game, masked seonghwa, primal pray play, cnc, reader says "no"/"stop" but doesn't mean it, knife play, seonghwa is an absolute menace, degrading + praising, pet names, name calling (whore, slut, etc.), teasing, hair pulling, picture taking after sex,...did I miss anything?

Summary: Reader expressing their need for masked Seonghwa to fuck them and he certainly delivers.

A/N: I tried to keep the pronouns gender neutral the best I could, but there might be a slight fem lean to things! Please let me know what you think! Happy Halloween and happy reading!🎃

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Texting him all day about your crazy thoughts, especially after you saw that clip of him from the Don’t Stop music video behind the scenes where he ripped the mask off his face and stretched his neck while rolling his eyes back, looking super sexy…yeah you know, *that* Seonghwa. You told him you wanted nothing more than for him to use that mask again and hunt you down in the dorm, playing hide and seek, while really wanting him to catch you and have his way with you. Of course, he only fueled your fantasy by saying things like “we’ll see what happens~”, “perhaps later tonight we can have some fun?”, and other provocative things. 

He finally came back to the dorm after his schedules, but the other members were still away for the time being. You ran up to him, eager to not only see him, but to see if what you were telling him earlier in the day would come true. It was Halloween after all, what other perfect time to act like a crazed, masked, serial killer?

“Still wanna have fun~?” You teased as he softly rubbed your back.

“Hmmmmm.” He hums softly and lets go of you. He knew what you were hinting at, but he was just toying with you like he had been all day. You cross your arms and scowl at him, kinda irritated that he had been teasing you for this long and now would not do anything about it. Suddenly, he forcefully grabs your arms and lifts both of them above your head, pushing you back into the wall that was beside you. Your eyes go wide at the sudden action and you feel your face get red. 

“You were saying~?” He growls softly and inched his way closer to your face, the proximity of you two causing extreme sexual tension. Him towering over you, driving you absolutely insane.

“I-I was uh-.” You could barely speak. You gazed up at his eyes and he was staring at you lustfully, looking over every ounce of your body, practically undressing you with just his eyesight. “H-...Hide and Seek?” You manage to get out, completely flustered by your closeness to him. He looks you over a little longer before letting your arms go; they fall to your sides.

“Go,” He says deeply. “15 seconds.” He’s staring at you with deep, hooded eyes. So much seduction is hidden behind them. Your body freezes for only a moment before you shoot him a quick smile and run away from him to find a hiding spot. 

14…Counting down the seconds in your head, the panic sets in on where you can actually hide. 

13…You don’t want it to be too obvious because you want the game to last at least a little bit.

12…Your heart rate is increasing with every second wasted.

11…Think Y/N, think!

10…An idea pops into your head and you immediately move your feet to get there.

9…You find yourself in the kitchen and there is a space below one of the countertops you think you can squeeze into.

8…Crawling down to the floor…7…You squeeze yourself into the little opening…6…it was tighter than you thought, but there is no time to change spots now.

5…You try to calm your breathing to not give your location away…4…You close your eyes, and pray that he won’t find you.

3…2…1

“Ready or not, here I come Princess~.” His deep, seductive voice echoes through the dorm. His tone sends a chill down your spine, but now is not the time to shudder it out. “Should have gone to the bathroom before he got home.” Silently cursing at yourself. Actually uncertain if you have to pee, or it’s the arousal that is slowly brewing within you.

You hear Seonghwa’s footsteps get closer to your general area. You carefully put your hands up to your mouth to silent your breathing. Seonghwa was wearing platform boots that with every step they clunked and the closer he got to your position, you could feel the wooden floor vibrate. Slowly making his way around the dorm, one slow step at a time. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, and you can only hope that you are not breathing too heavily as the beating of your heart fills your eardrums. Seonghwa gets closer to the kitchen and you try to hold your breath, to not draw attention to your hiding spot. He taps his fingers across the countertop as he makes his way through the kitchen, a habit he picked up from watching ASMR, which should be peaceful and satisfying, but in fact, is the exact opposite in this situation. The slow tapping of his fingers was replaced with the harsh sound of a knife being pulled out of the knife block, located almost directly above you. You squeeze your eyes shut and feel yourself getting lightheaded from how long you have been trying to hold your breath.

Little to your knowledge, Seonghwa had already seen where you were hiding because of the small crack at the bottom of the counter back piece. He really was toying with you at this point, giving you the most authentic experience. He continues to slowly trudge around the kitchen, enjoying the tiny whimpers you made with every step he took. You felt like you were going to pass out at any second if this continued for much longer. Claustrophobia kicking in, you feel your body getting hot and sweaty, and not because your boyfriend was about to fuck your shit up. Your hands becoming clammy, your throat becoming dry because you dare not try to swallow and have your stupid throat make that stupid airy noise and give away your position. 

Seonghwa rounds the corner where the counters end and is now on the side where he could see you. His footsteps approaching closer, and closer, you try to delicately squeeze yourself further into the space, trying to not make any noise or sudden movements. Your head is now pushed into your knees and you have your head turned to the side where you can see the living room, but also the very edge of Seonghwa’s boot on the floor in front of you. Seonghwa is fully aware you are hiding right below him, but he steps away, giving you a false sense of hope. You squeeze your eyes shut one more time, hoping that he’ll go away and this “nightmare” can be over, but that unfortunately doesn’t happen. You feel a soft 2 taps on your shoulder and you can only sob as you feel your heart sink down into your stomach and your body becomes cold. You’ve been caught. You’re cornered with nowhere to run. Exactly what Seonghwa had wanted.

He grips onto your arm and pulls you out of your hiding spot, definitely gripping hard enough to bruise your skin. You try to squirm away, kicking your feet and slapping at his arms, using your elbows to drag yourself across the floor, back away from him. He only gets closer to you, and you can tell he’s pissed off. You look up at him for the first time since you left his sight, and you are met with a surprise. The mask. He must have somehow brought it home with him and put it on while you were hiding. He grabs your legs and pulls you close to him, his body towering over top of you once again.

“NO!” You scream out, “GET AWAY FROM ME! PLEASE!” If anyone was around, they would genuinely think someone broke in and was robbing you…but no one was there to save you.

“Time’s up little girl~.” He growls as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to his bedroom, or your shared bedroom. You are still fighting for your life in his grasp, punching his back with your fists and kicking your legs, but it’s no use. The grip he has on you is too strong, and not like you really want out anyway.

“S-Stop! Put me down!” You scream out, still flailing your body around as he makes his way to your guys’ bedroom. “PARK SEONGHWA~!” You scream bloody murder, but it has no effect on him. Your vocal chords are for sure going to be shot by the end of the night.

You feel your body get thrown down and thankfully the soft mattress takes away some of the impact. Your body is shaking with fear and you can feel your eyes start to water. Seonghwa slowly makes his way on top of you on the bed, trapping your hips with his legs. You lightly kick your legs to the side and turn your head, hoping to throw his body off of yours, but that doesn’t work. 

“N-No.” You cry out softly as his masked face gets closer to yours. Cowering in fear, you can’t bring yourself to look at him, closing your eyes and turning your head to the side. He tenderly grabs your chin, rubbing his thumb across your lip before twisting his hand harshly so your face is straight back at him.

“Open your eyes.” He demands softly. You open one eye and whimper when you see how close he is and that stupid mask. The mask you once thought was so hot, but now that it was directly in front of you, it was even hotter.

“Y-You don’t have to do this.” You plead, your voice breaking in between words. Seonghwa can feel your body trembling under him and he only smirks, which you can’t see, but you know that he is doing. In fact, you know he had been smirking this whole time. Seeing you scared of him awoke his primal instincts. He had to ruin you. “You're right darling~. I don’t have to,” Speaking softly, taking in the sight of your shaking frame and your watery eyes, “I want to." Those were the last words he said before he started to literally rip your clothes off of you. Throwing the shredded fabric to the side and getting aggravated when things would not come off fast enough. You could hear him groaning and growling anytime a piece of clothing got in his way. Not knowing what else to do besides toss your upper body around to fight it. Trying harder to get away from him and arching your back to again try to throw him off of you. 

“N-NO!” You yell out at him again.

He grips onto your bottoms and pulls them down all the way, leaving you in only your undergarments. Now having enough of your bullshit, he takes one of his hands, grabs you by the hair, and tugs on it. You let out a whimper at the sudden pain. Seonghwa only lowly chuckles at your noises. Your eyes remain closed from when he gripped your hair. You are unaware of the item he just pulled from his pants pocket until you feel a familiar, cold sensation across the skin on your stomach. Your body twitches at the feeling and you open your eyes to see Seonghwa slowly dragging the knife he picked up from the kitchen across your skin and slowly making his way to your top. The tip of the knife dances delicately across your skin, and in no way causing any cuts to your skin, but pressing just enough to leave those little white after trails. Your heart beat increasing for the thousandth time that night. Seonghwa takes notice of your panic and only chuckles to himself before he takes the tip of the blade and pushes it down, not damaging any skin, and lifting your top piece up away from your chest.

“Hope you don’t care too much for this.” He teases before he lifts the top of the blade up and cuts through the fabric covering your chest. Your chest is now completely exposed to the cool air of the room and your nipples get hard. Seonghwa laughs softly as he watches your body change and toys the knife across your skin a little more. 

“H-Hwa please…” You beg him and he only tilts his head to the side, looking at you but not actually looking at you. You watch as his shoulder shimmy up and down from the silent chuckles that leave him.

“As you wish, my love~.” 

You can only watch as he undoes his belt, unzipping his pants and shimmying them just past his hips, enough to get them out of his way. Shaking your head side to side slowly and you feel tears start to well in your eyes. The fear inside consuming you. Seonghwa suddenly lunges forward, his body once again over top of yours. He yanks your underwear off of you, tossing it to the side and pushing your legs back towards you to have access to what he wants. He swiftly pushes himself into your hole and your eyes roll back into your head. He pushes his whole self into you, hearing him groan as he does so and not allowing any moments to get used to the feeling. “S-Stop! P-Please!” He takes the knife and pushes it against your throat as he pulls himself out and shoves himself back into you again. You tilt your head back into the pillows behind you and moan. “S-stop!” 

“But the fun just got started~” He toys as he keeps thrusting himself into you. Your body getting used to the feeling and taking him so well, but you didn’t want him to know that. You wince as he keeps pushing himself deep into you.

“T-This isn't fun!”

“You sure~?” He thrusts his way inside you again and keeps himself there and harshly smacks the side of your hip with his free hand. You can’t help but moan loudly at the feeling and your face gets super red from embarrassment. Seonghwa laughs sadistically as he resumes pushing himself in and out of you at an alarming pace. You take your hands, place them on his chest, and push up into his body, trying to force him off of you yet again. This only causes Seonghwa to push the knife deeper into your neck and shove himself into you forcibly.

“Good try~.” He coos out. You whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. Your body slowly becoming overwhelmed by the force of his thrusts. “Can't hide like that princess~. You already tried~.” Referring back to your match of hide and seek where he pretended not to see you as you closed your eyes, hoping he would disappear if you couldn't see him, but you see where that got you.

“M-mm~! P-please stop!” Your voice becoming hoarse from the screaming and pleasing.

“Fine by me~.” Seonghwa says before he takes himself out of you and for a brief moment you think it’s over and this is where the fun ends, but that moment is short-lived as you feel him grab the sides of your body and flip you over onto your stomach. He repositions himself and shoves himself back into your aching hole. Your face is pushed into the pillow on the bed and your scream is muffled by said pillow.

“God, I love it when they scream~.” Seonghwa growls out as he keeps forcing himself in and out of your body. He takes one of his hands and grabs your hair and yanks your head up off the mattress. His thrust brings tears to your eyes and the pain of him whipping your head back causes a few tears to fall on your cheeks.

“P-please!” You beg, hoping that he’ll hear how broken you are and put this to an end.

“Mmm~. Keep begging~.” Seonghwa moans out as he puts the knife back up to your neck and keeps pushing himself into you. Your breathing stuttered as you feel the knife right against your throat again. You cannot think of anything to say or do, other than panting and breathing out while occasionally letting out moans or whimpers. “Cat got your tongue~?” He teases as he thrusts himself into you slowly, but forcefully.

“N-NO!” You cry out from the pleasure of him now going slower but still treating you rough. He keeps thrusting into you at this nicer pace, but you can tell his thrusts were getting sloppy. He struggled to keep a consistent rhythm. “Fuck!” You moan out loud and bite your tongue immediately after you realize what just came out of your mouth.

“You dirty fucking whore~! Of course you'd like this~!” He pushes your head back down into the bed and keeps fucking you hard.

“N-no! I-!” You whimper out only for it to be muffled by the sheets. Crying loudly at Seonghwa abusing your hole and sobbing into the sheets. You hear Seonghwa groaning and panting, spitting out a few curses here and there. The pleasure builds up inside you, causing you to grip the sheets beneath you and moan loudly.

“S-Stop!”

“I'm boutta cum so wish fucking granted~!” Seonghwa calls out as his thrusts become more sporadic. You are a whiny, moaning, crying mess and you can feel yourself getting close to your release. Just a few more thrusts and you knew it would be over. Seonghwa groans loudly and you can feel his cock twitch inside you.

“F-fuck~ Y-Y/N~!” You moan out loud after he calls out your name and you feel yourself cumming on his cock. Seonghwa pushes himself in and out of you a few more times before pulling out and releasing on your lower back, moaning and panting heavily and rubbing himself through his orgasm. You softly fall forward onto the bed when he removes himself from you, breathing heavily, moaning and whimpering. You feel the bed sink down and Seonghwa is back on top of you. You feel his chest pressed against your back, slightly feeling his heart beating. You open your eyes to see his phone to the side of your face, with both of you in frame.

“Smile for the camera~.” He hums before he poses with his hand on top of your head, grasping your hair and snaps a photo of you two with your fucked out face being the main focus. Leaning back and looking at the photo he just took. You hear him softly laughing behind you. “W-what's...so f-funny?” You stutter through ragged breaths. He gently flips you over and he shows you the photo he just took.

“You look so pathetic~.” He pauses as he takes the mask off his face, the exact same way he did in that video, knowing that is what you have been wanting to see all night, “Happy Halloween whore.”

Tags: @hwalysm @choisanboobenthusiast @wisejudgedragonhairdo @ivehwas @shinestarhwaa