#Solar smut

[smuttysabina]

Mamamoo's Fuck-Fitness Program

(Male Reader x Hwasa & Solar, 5k Words) Tags: Workout sex; Sex while working out; Someone grows a GirlCock (Blame Dreamcatcher); Vagina, Oral, Anal, and Exterior Sex; Double penetration; Multiple cocks in one hole; Sweaty messy sex; Only Hwasa and Solar are there though, sorry; Sloppy Seconds; Lots of calories were burned during this smut; Can recommend this exercise for weight-loss; Thigh-fucking

Sex, is a messy activity. The grunting and exhalations, the sordid stench of sweat and hormones, the noisy slap of flesh, the taste of another person upon your tongue, the sticky fluids that invariably end up leaking everywhere... Sex was an exercise drenched in shared shamelessness, the thrill of ignoring your innate disgusts to focus solely upon the pursuit of pleasure; and of course, breeding. Which only made threesomes all the nastier. Now there was a third body squishing itself against the others, adding its own sensual heat to the mix, spicing the intercourse with its uneven dynamic that only ever encouraged more perversion. It was simply too easy to toss away your inhibitions and give in to the unnatural deviancy of the situation, spurring yourself as you seek your climax. Which, all in all, meant that you burned a lot more calories in a threesome, which was why the Mamamoo Workout Program always made sure its clients were paired with two of their ladies at once!

Fans would obviously plumb the depths of their reserves when with one of their idols, but with two of them... why, the weight would practically melt away!

It cost quite a bit to secure a session at the Mamamoo Fitness Center, but it was well known that the health benefits were worth every penny. There were only four open slots per day, and competition was fierce to obtain one, it was said that the ladies were fully booked for the year within minutes of opening; it was something of a miracle you had managed to secure yourself one. The modest office itself was tastefully decorated, pure white walls covered in informational posters and awards, and the plush chairs in the waiting room were of the highest quality. The assistants behind the front desk were equally as beautiful as the room itself, and went about their business with the quiet diligence of any medical office. A smiling secretary had given you a clipboard of forms and waivers to fill out, full of disclaimers carefully worded to avoid any explicit mention of what went on. The form had blandly informed you that your upcoming session would consist of a "personalized workout session", guided by two randomized members of Mamamoo, who would lead your "workout" until you had reached your "fitness goals". What it really meant of course, was that you would be vigorously fucked until you were on the edge of exhaustion.

The Mamamoo Workout experience had been carefully tuned to maximize the amount of calories burned during the intercourse. The controversial decision to randomize the members chosen had been done on purpose, since it had been noted that clients often burned as many calories with their least favorite member as they would have with their bias. One particularly celebrated patient had spent five hours rutting atop Wheein, and had managed to lose 20 pounds in the process. The eight hour long slots had also been chosen as the most optimal amount of time, past that and most patients were on the verge of death via excessive fluids loss. And of course, the decision to include two of the members instead of just one was to send their clients into a sexual frenzy; though it was also because the members enjoyed having sex with one another too much. On average, most patients lost around ten pounds over the several hours of intensive intercourse, their excess fat burning away as they pushed themselves to the limit to continue fucking half of Mamamoo. It was an extremely efficient method of losing weight, with the added benefit of being the best sex of your entire life.

The demure secretary returns to collect you, and your documents, checking to make sure everything had been filled out properly before guiding you to the front desk to record your temperature and weight. Nodding with satisfaction, she leads you out of the waiting room and through the doorway in the back, into a plain corridor adorned only with four brown doors. Colorful placards on the doors indicate whether the rooms were in use or not, and as you pass by the single occupied suite, you hear muffled squeals and moans emanating from it; evidently the sound-proofing here was high-quality. The assistant takes you to the room two doors down from the one currently in use, politely knocking on the door before opening it and motioning you inside. Your heart pounds and your palms grow sweaty as the reality of your situation hits you, you had been anticipating this for so long it had become almost mundane, but now that you were on the threshold... The secretary gives you an encouraging slap on the ass, and smiling kindly, assures you that you would be up for the grueling workout ahead of you; everyone gets cold feet before this! Mustering your courage, you return the favor, much to her amusement, before entering the "fitness room"; the door shuts, and locks, behind you.

Twin goddesses await you within, hands on their hips as they appraise their newest customer, their bodies sheathed in clinging tights that accentuated their plush lower lips, and sports bras that pushed out their chests. Solar seemed as bright as her namesake, cheerfully eyeing your crotch with open intent, while Hwasa glares thoughtfully at your face, her own sultry expression hinting of her love for vigorous copulation. Solar steps forward to greet you, her lithe body swaying as takes your hand and leads you further into the exercise room; which was severely lacking in conventional exercise equipment. The floor was completely covered in firm mats, with beanbags and exercise balls strewn about, there were several curiously-shaped benches, and the pull-up stand had a few too many straps than usual. Full-length mirrors covered the two sidewalls, while the furthest had various cabinets and a door that presumably led to the bathroom; and there was a tallyboard that marked the gender of every customer, it seems that women were here as often as men. Hwasa saunters up and takes your other hand, smirking slightly as she senses your nervousness, and you stammer as you introduce yourself to the two idols. The pair smile at your awkwardness, before explaining today's schedule to you once more; a mild stretching session, followed by a series of intensive workouts interspersed with breaks for hydration and restroom use, with a shower at the end to clean you all off.

Contrary to your assumptions, your time with Hwasa and Solar began with the utmost banality, the pair guiding you through some basic standing stretches before moving onto some sitting ones. If the police had burst into the room under suspicion of illegal sexual acts, they would have found a normal guy in sweats and a baggy tshirt, grunting as he strained to touch his toes, while two attractive fitness instructors watched with amusement. Now if said police returned half an hour later, well... The first sign that this was anything other than a regular weight-loss session was when Hwasa moved in front of you while your legs were spread, and smoothly slid her ass back between them. A position that left you quite conscious about the size of her posterior, now that it was nuzzling against your crotch, the pair's chests might have been similar, but Hwasa's rear was far thicker. A moment later Solar presses herself against your back, squishing her breasts against you as she slowly leans forward, stretching you out while ensuring you would be unable to escape. If Hwasa is at all troubled by the now obvious poking her cheeks, she does not show it, and placidly starts to grind against your loins; your penis obviously required stretching out as well. What started as slow teasing gradually turns into something more, as your excitement builds you find yourself moving as well, until what started as a suspicious stretch has degenerated into desperate dry-humping.

You groan as you rub yourself against Hwasa's thick ass, boldly grasping her waist so as to force her back against you all the harder, before long you are leaking through your sweatpants and onto her tights. She slowly hikes her ass up, and you eagerly follow, until it looks as if you were plowing her doggy-style, only with more clothes than usual on. Speaking of which, now that you have the room, you eagerly pull down your pants, and are surprised to discover your shirt getting yanked up as well, before Solar meshes herself against your back once more. Her hands roam your bare chest, toying with your nipples while she kisses and sucks your neck, whispering encouragement into your ear before nibbling up on it. You shudder as you hotdog Hwasa's plump butt, the fabric of her tights smooth enough to allow for easy movement, the sticky evidence of your virility smearing itself against it. With her amused face staring back at you in the mirror, the idol suddenly pulls forward, using her hand to press your cock downward before pushing back against you; and you find your cock sandwiched between her meaty thighs. Now it truly looked as if you were having sex, as you furiously fuck Hwasa's thighs, your crotch slapping loudly against her constrained ass as she squishes her legs together in imitation of her tight pussy.

With Solar pressing her supple body against you from behind, and with your cock buried between Hwasa's thighs, you feel your climax building unstoppably. The pair of idols were not blind to this, and they eagerly brought about its fruition. Solar smiles wickedly at you in the mirror, "Finishing so soon, dear?" she purrs, "we haven't even completed our stretches yet," before returning to giving your neck purple hickeys. Hwasa simply looks back at you and commands, "Cum, now," and you moaningly obey, picking up the pace as she clenches around your manhood. You had not even lasted long enough to put your first load inside one of the members of Mamamoo, and it is with some embarrassment that you empty yourself against Hwasa's stomach. You groan as you paint her tummy with your seed, your cock fooled into thinking that it was draining itself inside of her fertile pussy, when instead your sperm was wasted upon her tanned skin. Shaking from the force of your orgasm, you lean on Hwasa for support as your strength pours from your dick, as the idols loudly praise your climax.

Solar pulls you upright onto your feet, murmuring encouragingly as she massages your crotch and thighs, while Hwasa idly cleans your semen off of her stomach with her fingers, licking each in turn while staring bemusedly at you. The girls share a glance before Hwasa gets up and stalks over to a cabinet, while Solar occupies you with kisses and touches, now that the warmup was finished, it was time to pick up the pace. And of course, the pair knew the best way to encourage their clients to do just that. Mamamoo, like most Third-Generation idols, may have looked on with contempt at the alchemical aphrodisiac brews churned out by Twice, but that did not mean they were opposed to all such potions. Hwasa removes an ornate, maroon-colored flask from a drawer, tossing it to Solar before sauntering back and shamelessly stripping in front of you. Your eyes boggle as you drink in the sight of Hwasa's naked body, her fertile curves framing a massively puffy pussy that is already slick with arousal; and her swaying breasts were practically begging to be groped. Meanwhile, Solar takes advantage of your distraction and chugs a portion of the bottle, licking her lips as the cherry-flavored drink pours into her stomach and its effects take hold.

Solar lets out a moan of pure pleasure as a bulge appears in her tights, spreading upwards until it nearly pushes fully from beneath the fabric. She shudders as she gingerly reveals the results of the potion, a girl-cock of average size, twitching and tender from its recent birth, with a pair of heavy balls throbbing in their hairless sack. Mamamoo know very well that to inspire a client, it is best to set the pace yourself, and let men's natural jealousies do the rest; plus, the women tend to be rather invigorated by having their favorite idol's cock in one or more of their holes. So Hwasa wastes no time in getting on her knees in front of Solar, and enthusiastically starting to suck her off. You are admittedly shocked by this sudden development, you had not expected for one of Mamamoo to sprout a cock, but you are not entirely opposed to this... To your own surprise, you find yourself oddly aroused by the scene taking place in front of you, and soon are shoving your own stiffening cock into Hwasa's face. The idol expertly gives oral to both of you, one hand on either cock, sucking one then the other, rubbing the tips together as her tongue lathers both with warm spit. You and Solar both moan from Hwasa's efforts, kissing and groping one another as your dicks are devoured, precum dribbling steadily all over her pert lips. After what seems like an age of endless pleasure, Hwasa smoothly rises before bending over, her face still bobbing in front of your crotches, but now offering an alternative.

You are too busy enjoying the stimulation of getting a blowjob from an idol like Hwasa, and so Solar is the first to take her pussy, slipping inside of her groupmate with practiced ease. While Solar has her sloppy way with Hwasa's lower lips, you use her upper lips with equal messiness, using her head's positioning to force your cock down her throat. Hwasa gags as you fuck her face like a pussy, slobber coating your balls with every thrust as you struggle to not unload your seed directly into her stomach. You and Solar hold hands and make-out while you spit-roast Hwasa, who squirms as both of you shove yourselves as deep as possible into her, united in your eagerness to use Hwasa's body. But before you can impregnate Hwasa's guts, Solar does just that inside of her friend's cunt, moaning loudly and spasming wildly as she empties herself into Hwasa, her eyes rolling back as pleasure washes through her body. Panting, her tongue still connected to yours be streamers of spit, Solar pulls out of Hwasa, slapping her thick ass in thanks before wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you; now its your turn... Hwasa solidly plants herself against one of the wall mirrors in preparation for the pounding she was about to receive, looking back smugly at you as she spreads one cheek open in welcome. You shudder as you press your cockhead into the sticky mess leaking from Hwasa's plump pussy, your passage into her dripping hole made even easier by Solar's seed.

The cacophony of flesh slapping together reverberates through the exercise room as you violently take Hwasa against the wall. A surprising vigor fills you, turning every thrust into a hammer-blow as you break yourself against her massive ass-cheeks, your cock churning her pussy as Solar's seed pours out of it. Her sloppy cunt constricts tightly around your shaft with every thrust, gripping you tightly even while taking a ferocious pounding; idol pussy truly was superior. Hwasa growls hungrily as you plow her, licking the mirror lustfully to spur you on, her cunt gushing as she climaxes from the intensity of your coupling. With your hands around her hips, you hold her steady as you go into a frenzy, thrusting wildly as your own orgasm approaches, gasping her name with every breath while your balls throb with effort. Sweat is pouring down your skin when you finally let out a groan and force yourself deep inside of Hwasa, your semen erupting into her in a flood of jizz. Who looks back at you with satisfaction, licking her luscious lips while you plaster her pussy with your seed; relishing in every drop coating her insides. When you are finished, you stagger backwards, exhausted by your sex, and a laughing Solar passes you a water bottle as she guides you to the bathroom for a little break.

You were perplexed by your energetic coupling with Hwasa, you had not intended to be so rough with her, even though she had evidently enjoyed it, and you ponder this while you piss in one of the two toilets with Solar. Hwasa soon joins you two, squatting on the free seat and voiding her bladder as well; the pair of idol's did not need to ruminate on your sudden vigor, they knew exactly where it came from. Like most idols, Mamamoo knew full well that when fucking a cum-filled hole, men naturally grew more forceful and energetic, their bodies automatically adapting its rhythm to better scoop the semen out with its thrusts; which of course, burned more calories. So, the girls made sure to have as many holes filled with their own girlcocks and cum as soon as possible, not that it was very hard considering how good those holes were; and jealousy was a truly powerful motivator. Thus, when you three exit the bathroom, Hwasa almost immediately is laying down on padded bench, and opening her legs for Solar, who happily starts fucking your sloppy seconds out of Hwasa. You meanwhile rest on an exercise ball, idly rubbing your still slick yet flaccid cock, while the two idols make passionate love without you; a situation that makes you surprisingly aroused as you watch them fucking. Eventually, the squeals and moans are enough to get you hard once more, and you hasten to join the pair of idols once more, already knowing which hole you wanted to fill.

Solar starts with surprise when your hands grasp her waist, stopping mid-thrust to glance back at your touch, bemusement written on her features, "Oh, would you like a turn?" she asks with a knowing smile, before her eyebrows raise as you apply pressure to guide her down onto Hwasa, "Oh, wait, are you lubed up enough...?" Solar's question is answered as you press your glistening cock against her exposed asshole, and force yourself inside of her. Solar groans as she is impaled from behind, pushing herself deeply into Hwasa as you gradually fill her ass; until you are both balls-deep in your respective holes. Solar squirms as she is pleasured from both sides, her girl-cock getting massaged by Hwasa's sultry cunt, while your dick pokes at her innards; and you had not even started thrusting yet. Solar's guts probably had subtle differences compared to Hwasa's experienced pussy, but by now you were on your third load, and all your cock cared about was that it was inside of a warm hole; so it does what any dick inside of a warm hole would do, and starts moving. After an awkward start, all three of you eventually fall into a steady rhythm, allowing both you and Solar to get deep strokes in, while Hwasa simply lays there and takes it, naughtily urging you both on while you do all the work. Solar's perky butt meshes perfectly against your crotch with every thrust, and you have to contain yourself to not simply pin her against her groupmate and pound her soggy guts out of shape. Solar though, sounds like she is in heaven, gasping and moaning, becoming overstimulated and giving into her own pleasure, frantically humping away between Hwasa's thick thighs until she reaches her climax. When she pushes deep inside of her fellow idol, you follow suit, pressing yourself against her sweaty back as your weight presses Solar's girl-cock even further into Hwasa's pussy. Shuddering, Solar collapses onto her and unloads the contents of her balls into Hwasa, who groans as the warmth spreads through her belly, squished beneath both of your weight.

A glistening streamer of semen connects the tip of Solar's cock with the mess leaking out of Hwasa's cunt as she delicately maneuvers out from between you two; leaving you yet another sticky mess to unclog. But Hwasa has other ideas; obviously tired of being passive, instead she cranks the back of the bench upwards and seats you on it, sperm and sweat streaking down her thighs as she gazes down at you. She squats down in front of your upraised dick and takes it in her mouth, slobbering on your smelly meat until it is thoroughly doused in spittle, her eyebrows furrowed intensely as your tip stabs at her throat. Hwasa wears a seductive smirk when she finishes lubricating your manhood, rising back up to straddle you, placing one hand on your chest to hold you down, she uses the other to guide your cock inside of her as she sits on it. Your eyes widen in surprise when instead of slipping easily into her slimy cunt, Hwasa angles you a little further back, and forces your dick inside of her unused asshole. She lets out a satisfied grunt as she hilts you, your member twitching inside of her belly, her lips quirking upwards when she notices your expression, "What, did you think I disliked having my ass filled as well?", she brings a finger to your lips to hush you, "No, just shut up and let me enjoy myself." So you do, and she does, though it was not as if you were not savoring the feeling of Hwasa's tight anus sliding up and down your shaft as much as she was.

Hwasa's powerful thighs piston her up and down your length, a sneer of pleasure twisting her lips as your cock grinds against her insides, making you shudder with every squat. If anything, she looked smug at being able to exert some control once more, leaning down to forcefully kiss you on whim, her cunt leaking her juices steadily onto your belly. Moaning, you grope her swaying breasts as Hwasa rides you, holding onto them for support as her asshole clamps tightly around your cock. Only when you approach the edge of your orgasm does she pause, waiting until your dick finishes pulsing before resuming her sensual movements, her hips writhing atop your lap as she works you deep inside of her. After Hwasa has successfully edged you for a third time, Solar reappears behind her, no doubt painfully erect once more, running her hands down her friend's back to attract her attention. But Hwasa is teasingly aloof, "Sorry dear, this hole is already taken," she purrs, grinding meaningfully upon you for emphasis, curling her mouth into a haughty yet knowing smile. Solar simply beams though, and scoots herself onto the small open portion of the seat slipping her legs up yours until her cock and balls are squished against your own. Rolling her eyes, Hwasa stands up enough until only your head is inside of her, and you twist to try and see what is going on as you feel something hard pressing against the base of your tip. The pressure builds, and only when another rigid object surges in alongside your cock do you realize that Solar has forced her dick into the idol's ass as well. Hwasa lets out a true groan as she sits on both of your cocks, clenching tightly around both of your shafts as precum leaks out from the gaps between your cocks. With frightening flexibility, she lifts one leg up over you and turns, so that her side is now facing you, and you can see Solar smiling reassuringly from across Hwasa's swollen breasts; Hwasa's ass felt so snug with someone else in it...

With a hand on either shoulder, Hwasa bounces lustfully on both of your cocks, leaving both you and Solar moaning plaintively. Effectively pinned by each other's weigh, Hwasa has free reign to fuck you as she liked, turning what should have been in intense anal pounding into a languidly intimate ride. With your shafts squishing and slipping against one another, Hwasa's guts massage your dicks until they are the edge of bursting, then she pauses, allowing your precum to slop out over your congealed cockheads, before resuming her exquisite torture. All you and Solar can do is grab at her curvaceous body as it pumps up and and down your members, and your mind starts to melt under the unending pleasure. Hwasa's asshole makes disgusting squelching noises as precum slops out of it and onto your balls, soon your lower bodies are splattered with the evidence of your weakness. Even an experienced slut like Solar looks to be in heaven, her tongue lolling as she glares lustfully back at you, grinding herself against you in her desperation to climax. You start asking for it, pleading with Hwasa for release, which of course only makes her leak all the more, until eventually she lets out a grunt a paints the matting with a wash of gooey squirt, shuddering with ecstasy as her asshole clamps tightly around your members. Her face flushed with arousal, her hands slip onto your throats as she snarls, "Beg for it! Beg. For. It!" and with your brains sloshing with hormones, you and Solar easily comply. You beg for release as Hwasa slams herself against you, her thick ass cheeks slapping loudly as fluids spray, the two of you now humping wildly upwards while Hwasa hammers you flat again and again. Solar is the first to finish, moaning sweetly, her eyes roll back as she fills Hwasa's guts, her pulsating cock slobbering cum all over your dick as much as her coils. The stimulation is enough to make you explode soon after, drowning Hwasa's innards in semen as she squirts messily once more as her ass gets turned into a jizz-filled slurry.

Hwasa unmounts you both with a groan, Solar nearly toppling backwards off the seat as all three of you are weak and trembling from your intensive exertions. Hwasa gingerly kneels next to you, and without hesitation starts cleaning off the filthy mess coating your sensitive cocks with her mouth. Now you are truly writhing in the seat, your skin painfully stuck to the black leather by sweat, clutching her hair as her warm saliva is slathered all over your manhood. Hwasa skillfully rubs your tips together, her tongue slipping between and around them, before taking you both in her mouth, trying to fit both of your cocks into her throat and sometimes succeeding. By the end of it, both you and Solar are gasping, but your cocks are both bulging once more. Hwasa stands back up before sashaying to an uncluttered area of mat and bending over, spreading her cheeks for your enjoyment. She smirks coyly as her asshole belches a ream of semen down her leg, her gaping pussy still awash with sperms, "Who is getting which hole?", she asks, her smile growing wider, "Or are you going to share again...?" Hwasa seductively licks her lips as Solar untangles herself from you and staggers over, with you a step behind, wiggling her butt enticingly as you approach. Solar glances at you and gives you a kiss, before grinning, "Well? We have five hours left, so take your pick, or do you want me...?"

The next four hours pass in a blur of pounding flesh and spewing fluids, an unending tide of hedonism that sees you plumbing the depths of your depravity. You violate Hwasa's asshole, you plow her pussy, you fill her throat, while Solar gleefully does the same. You balls slap together in an endless cacophony, and more often than not your shafts slip and squelch against each other as you both ravage the same hole at once. Not that Solar's orifices are spared either, pumping away at her butt while Hwasa pleasures you both, or forces you to pleasure her; and Solar's face is almost as covered with both her cum and your own as Hwasa's is. All of you guzzle down vast amounts of water, only stopping when your bodies can take it no more and you have to make a break to the bathroom, often returning to find the other two fucking as intensely as before. Sweat pours down your skin like a waterfall, and the mats are covered with puddles of sexual fluids (and the occasional pond of piss from when someone was unable to reach the toilet in time), it feels like your brain has devolved until your only thoughts are for slaking your desires upon the two idols of Mamamoo. Eventually though, your exhaustion catches up to you, and when you pull out of Hwasa's sloppy cunt for what seems like the hundredth time that day you find yourself collapsing from utter fatigue.

Hwasa and Solar carefully tend to you over the next twenty minutes, pouring fluids down your throat to rehydrate you and massaging your cramped and aching muscles. When they are satisfied you can walk, they haul you to your feet, chattering amiably and complimenting you on your love-making skills; of course they barely showed even a hint of tiredness. They haul you into the bathroom, where they crudely hose the worst of the filth off of you with a shower head before frog-marching you to the exit. A smiling assistant greets you at the door, and your half of Mamamoo wave you goodbye as she leads you out, covered head to toe in cum, squirt, and other unmentionable fluids. As the girl leads you down the corridor, you idly notice that the idols had stuffed you back into your clothes, though you knew you must absolutely reek. The other occupied door cracks open as you approach, and a lady staggers out of it, her belly distended and her holes leaking so much cum it is slicking through her yoga pants in a reeking stream. She barely even glances at you as you are dragged by her, though through the closing door you notice a rather well-endowed Moonbyul and Wheein blowing kisses to their retreating client. Humming cheerfully, the assistant takes your weight at the scale, before depositing you in front of the kindly secretary from before. Who beams knowingly, before slyly enquiring if you would like to make an appointment for next year? Nodding tiredly, you flick through your calendar to look up the date, while the lady behind you noisily vomits what sounds like gallons of semen into a trashcan.

Of course you would like to make another appointment, though you are sure to ask if there have been any last minute cancellations... Another few more sessions like this, and you would be hitting your weight-loss target in no time!

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 20: Massage

Today, you get to give your boss a nice massage. I hope you enjoy it, she will.

Length 1.9K

Solar X Mreader

You come home, sighing after another day of work; as soon as you’re through the door, you head to your bed and collapse. Your body aches; you’ve spent the day running around trying to support your boss, Solar. You drift off to sleep. There were a million things you wanted to do, but sleep took over, and you awakened the following day. You shower and get dressed before heading off to work. When you get to your desk, you see a note from Solar; you groan, imagining what she could possibly want at this time. You pick the note up and read it, “Hey, I’ve seen you working pretty hard these past few weeks. As thanks for all your work I’m sending you to a resort. Enjoy your paid time off. The stuff for your trip is in the top left drawer.” You crack a smile, happy that it wasn’t more work. You open the drawer, and much like she said, it’s there, along with all the other information you need. You notice the flight is tomorrow. You work hard and finish the day before packing at home. In the early morning of the next day, you're on a flight, and by one p.m., you’re at the resort. 

It’s not until you’re making your way to your room that you notice that you haven’t seen a man there at all. Every worker and guest you saw was a woman; they were beautiful women. Stepping into your room, you find a note in the middle of your bed. You lay down and grab it, “Out by the pool is a special reward for you.” The message had lipstick on it; you begin to consider why Solar would do that when you realize this trip might just be work. You sigh and change into a pair of swim trunks before heading to the pool, where you spot her. Solar was lounging by the pool, wearing a tight blue bikini. Despite wearing a wide-brim straw hat and sunglasses, you could immediately tell it was Solar. She seems to be aware of your presence, too, as she lifts her head and turns toward you. She waves you over. You sigh before walking over to your boss. 

She smiles at you, “Hey there, welcome to my resort. What do you think?” You stay silent and stare at Solar; she could be insufferable sometimes.  

You look her over quickly as you speak, “Was it really necessary to make me think this was a vacation?” You ask, noting the way her bikini clung to her, hugging her modest chest and the high waist bottoms, making her beautiful legs look longer. 

“Don’t sound so disappointed. You’re here with me.” That wasn’t something that excited you, even if Solar was wearing a bikini. You just knew she would want you to take care of things while you were here. Seeing her in a bikini was a change of pace, though. The only time you had seen more skin from her was when you walked in on her changing; while it was something that you couldn’t get out of your head, it was also something that didn’t make up for the work she had you do. Solar smiles and takes off her straw hat, placing it on the lounge chair beside her. She adjusts her hair, making an effort to show off the sides of her tits. 

Solar pulls on your arm, having you come closer to her. “Oh wow, you’ve gotten so strong. You could use these hands for something nice, and I know just the thing.” Solar holds onto your arm, reaching to the small table beside her and grabbing a bottle of oil. “You wouldn’t mind helping me with this, would you?” You already know she’s just asking to sound polite. She wouldn’t let you refuse. 

She places the bottle in your hand and turns onto her stomach. You glance at her full ass, getting hard as you see the piece of flesh shake as she adjusts herself. You try to focus on the task at hand and cover your hands in the oil, pouring some on her back as well. “Oh wait, let me get this off.” Solar blurts out just as you’re about to begin. She unhooks her bikini top and places her hands back at her side. You see her breasts bulge outward as she lays flat. You begin at the top, massaging the oil into her skin; your rough grip and the pressure you apply make Solar squeak out soft moans.

Listening to her moan keeps your cock hard; your boss was moaning because of you. You move down Solar's back, kneading it and making her moans continue. Your cock twitched each time she moaned, and the longer you stared at her body, the more you wanted her. Solar glances at you, noticing the hungry look in your eyes. “Why don’t you get my legs too?” You stop, looking at her legs before nodding. Starting at the bottom, you slowly make your way up her calves and to her thighs; you listen to Solar hum in approval as she feels your hands squeeze her thighs. “Oh, that feels so good. Keep going.” Solar moves her legs apart slightly, her breathing getting heavy as she gives you another order. “Make sure to get every part.” You take a deep breath as you move to her inner thigh, your fingers rubbing against her clothed slit. Solar moans, refusing to hide her voice as she feels your hand rub against her. You move up, kneading her ass and making her moan as you massage her. Solar’s flesh jiggles once you let go, settling slowly. You’re getting harder, beginning to imagine fucking your boss.

Solar continues to glance at you before finally deciding to make another move. She takes off her sunglasses and moves onto her side, denying you a look at her breast by using her arm to cover herself. Solar stares at your hard-on and smirks, “Is that for me? Are you going to give me another kind of massage?” She says in a teasing voice. As you try to explain away your bulge, Solar moves onto her back. “Get my back, will you?” She moves her hand away from your chest, revealing her small tits to you. You watch as your boss moves her hands to her bikini bottom, taking them off and throwing them away. She wasn’t bothered being naked in front of you at all. “Well? Get started.” You pour the tanning oil onto Solar’s stomach, kneading it into her skin, moving from the center outward. She coos as she feels your hands move upward to ward her breasts. You try to avoid them, but she grabs your hands and moves them up. “Don’t be afraid; I need you to help me.” You knead her breast, listening to her moans yet again. You’re at full mast as you're touching your boss’s breasts. Solar can feel herself getting wet, enjoying your touch. Once you’re done, you begin to move down her body, covering the front of her powerful thighs.

The young woman reaches for your hands again, “I think you’re forgetting a spot.” She says, moving your hands to her inner thigh, right by her cunt. YOu nod and begin to massage Solar’s legs again, glancing at her perfectly shaven cunt. Your hand grazed her slit, making her coo, “Oh, that’s it. Right there.” You rub your hands against her slit, making Solar moan. You wanted to fuck her; it was the only thought in your head as you she moaned your name.

Solar smiles and reaches for your shorts as your hand runs across her slit; she moans your name louder as she feels you push a finger into her slit. Returning the favor as quickly as she can, Solar pulls your shorts down and runs her hand along your hard cock. You both moan, attracting the attention of the other guests. “Don’t think about them; this is normal here.” Solar tells you as she rubs her palm against the tip of your cock. She grinds against your hand, wanting you to go deeper, and her moans get louder. You mouse your other hand to grope her breasts, kneading them. Solar arches her back, reveling in the pleasure. 

She could feel the precum staining her hand and stopped stroking your cock to taste it; she hummed happily, licking her lips before pulling you in closer and swallowing your cock. The pleasure becomes too much for you to focus on fingering Solar, and you pull your fingers out, grabbing her head instead and pushing her against your pelvis. Your boss takes you easily, your cock ramming the back of her throat as she bobs her head. Her tongue runs from side to side as she bobs her head. Solar was not going to let you go; she moved her hands to your thighs, grabbing them as she sucked your cock. Your cock began to throb because of her, you were reaching your climax, and she didn’t care. Just as you were about to warn her, you cum, filling her mouth with your semen. She gags as her mouth fills up but quickly recovers, taking every drop from you. Solar pulls away slowly, opening her mouth with a smile as she shows you your cum. She swallows your cum, showing you a now empty mouth before dragging you onto the lounge chair.

Solar straddles you, grinding herself against your cock. “Mmm, fuck.” She groans. Solar places her hands on your chest, rubbing it as she feels your cock throb against her slit. “Let’s get down to business.” Solar raises herself, grabbing your cock and pressing it against her entrance. She coos, lowering herself onto your cock. “Oh, that’s it.” She moans, continuing to lower herself onto your cock. You grab Solar’s waist and drag her down, completely engrossed by the pleasure you’re getting from her tight cunt. You lean in and kiss her neck, leaving marks on her as she begins bouncing on your cock. Solar holds you against her as she moves along your shaft. You squeeze her ass, kneading the soft flesh and making Solar’s moans grow even louder. You lift and drop Solar onto your cock, reveling in the feeling of her cunt tightening around your cock. “Oh, fuck,” Solar groans, feeling your cock impale her. 

Your grip tightens, and Solar’s moans grow louder as she feels your nails dig into her flesh. You begin slamming your boss down on your cock, her pink walls clamping down around your cock as you begin to reach your climax. Solar holds you tightly, whining as she feels herself about to cum. “Solar, I’m cumming,” You groan as your cock begins to throb inside her. 

“Cum inside me! Do it!” You slam Solar down onto your cock, filling your boss with your cum. Something you never even thought about. Solar’s nails scratch your back as her body shudders from the pleasure; her climax hits her hard, making her run out of breath. “Oh shit,” she groans, feeling her pussy become full. “I think I’m going to need some more from you,” she smirks. “Let’s go back to your room.” You hold onto Solar’s ass as you lift her, carrying her to your room, every step causing your cock to move inside the young woman. Solar groans, holding onto you with a smile as you pass guests along your way to your room.

[slowlydifferentbluebird]

The best of the week

So, another week of hot pics and gif ended today and it's only right to share with you people some gems😌

Let's start with one of main characters of this period: Mommy Jihyo. Another angle, another fantastic view of her chest. The white top does an amazing job in showing off her body 🤭

Then we have another JYP girl and leader: miss Yeji. Do I really need to comment on that GIF? She's going crazy with those body rools. And look at those abs, she's really serving🤗

Double GIF for my girl, Jeewon. This hottie is definitely too underrated, both for her talent and her body. Go show some love to her and her group recent comeback🥹

Mommy Solar can't miss in this playlist. She's so hot and she knows it lol. Look at her going down and bouncing that ass for us, all of that with a smirk on her face. And once again, the abs!!! I'm feeling weak🥴

And last but not least, Sua from dreamcatcher, that was not satisfied with the pics of her in the pool, she has to remind us that she has a huge cake ready for us, even if she's such a goofy sometimes lol

Zazá

[alcoholfreenayeon]

Hello! I hope that you're doing well! I was wondering if I may please request a smutty/fluffy Solar x younger fem idol fic? Where reader has been crushing on Solar ever since they've met at an awards show.. They grow closer over time and reader confesses, thankfully Solar reciprocates and they waste no time getting closer. Maybe they get caught by the rest of the Mamamoo girls the morning afterward.

A/N: hope you like it anon❤️

What are we?

Solar x idol fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, smut

CW: little bit of smut basically

You nervously waited outside the café, having arrived almost 30 minutes early. You definitely could have been a bit more relaxed about it, but you didn’t want to take any chances, it was your first date with Solar after all. Well, it wasn’t a real date, at least you that’s what you thought because there is no way Solar would actually ask you out on a real date. But…she did ask you to dress pretty this time and it was going to be just the two of you for like the first time. You immediately glance at your outfit, it wasn’t casual, but you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it would have been better to dress a bit more fancy.

You think back to when you both first met, it was at an award show. Your group had just had their first win as rookies and Mamamoo had been placed to sit next to you. She congratulated you and introduced herself, which you found amusing, like the Kim Solar needed any introduction in the first place. Nevertheless, that was the first interaction between you two and, well, the way she smiled at you made you weak in the knees and you have had a massive crush on her since. Thankfully, she hadn’t found it weird when you asked for her number to keep in touch. In fact, she texted you first, asking to meet up every now and then.

Which was absolutely wonderful, however, each time you saw her you just fell for her harder, to the point where you were even contemplating just admitting your feelings to just get it off your chest. The thought of her rejecting you or distancing herself made your heart ache with pain as though it had been stabbed but it was maybe necessary to get it over with because you couldn’t go a single day without spending hours thinking about her. Her smile, her eyes, her comforting words, and her protectiveness towards you. All of that just made you feel at peace, safe, happy. But you did often also wonder if she was dating someone, like people would trip themselves to have a shot at dating her and she would definitely have no shortage of suitors and the thought of her dating someone else, well, it drove you absolutely insane with jealousy, anger, betrayal, envy, hell you didn’t even know exactly how you felt about it, but it certainly wasn’t positive.   

As you lost in your thoughts centered around Solar, you didn’t think how you looked from a third person’s perspective, having whole conversations with yourself until a mother walking with her kid told him to not get too close to the weird loner. That brought you right back to reality and you prayed she didn’t recognize you as your group was in a billboard nearby. You look at the time and immediately panic, you were going to be late if you didn’t go right now, just how long were you daydreaming for? Embarrassingly long enough was the answer. But you didn’t want to get into that for now. You made your way to the cafe’s entrance and immediately spotted Solar sitting in a corner, looking at her phone.

So, I came this early to just end up late, you think to yourself as you make your make to her, you clip your foot against another table and stumble before sitting down quietly opposite to Solar, feeling embarrassed.

She just smiles at you half teasingly, “Already falling for me Y/n?”, she says jokingly but those words made your heart skip a beat.

“Uh…”, you avoid eye contact, blushing and not knowing what to say.

Solar laughs warmly and looks at you with tenderness and smiles, “Well, I should have said it as soon as I saw you, but you look really pretty today, like you are in general but today you look extra special”.

Was she really trying to kill you? You were already feeling quite worked up but now your heart was straight up pounding, so loud and fast that you were quite sure that if someone were to sit next to you, they could hear it. You mumble thanks in response and look at her properly and nearly gasp out loud. She was dressed quite casually, just some jeans and a crop top but it looked unbelievably good on her. She just exuded beauty and confidence like it was nothing.

“Do I look good? You have been staring but haven’t said anything yet”, she asks playfully.

“YES, uh yes you look really good, I mean beau-pretty, you look really pretty too”, you reply, trying to calm yourself down, failing miserably.

She laughs prettily, “that’s good, I thought there was something wrong with me today, especially since I didn’t dress up too well. I am glad you like it Y/n. “Now, shall we order?”.

You look at the menu, deciding what to eat and finally manage to compose yourself a little bit. You both give your orders and have some small talk before Solar changes the topic, “Do you remember the first time we actually hung out, it wasn’t that long ago”.

You nod, “I think 7-8 months ago, your friends were there, I felt like an outsider”, you recall, remembering how Irene and Wheein were there, and it was an awkward experience for you initially since not only were you spending time with your crush for the first time, but her friends were also there who all also happened to be your seniors and even role models work wise. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to act around them, but you began to relax after spending some time with them and were even talking and acting semi formally with them.

The two of you recollected some of the favorite times between you both and that’s when your food and coffees came along. You were actually starving and dug in immediately and only after a few bites did you realize you cannot afford to look like a pig in front of Solar, but she didn’t seem to mind, regardless, you slowed down and ate a bit more slowly. You enjoy a few different conversations with her about a few different topics when suddenly out of nowhere she reaches out and puts her hand on top of yours. You freeze, not even daring to look at your hand or at Solar. Your heartrate skyrocketing, you feel your cheeks coloring and your breath shaky and your mind racing at a million miles per hour thinking of all the possible reasons why Solar would suddenly do that out of the blue when she breaks the silence. “Y/N, I really enjoy spending time with you-”, she begins but you interrupt her almost immediately.

“I’m in love with you!”, you blurt out and cover your mouth with your free hand, your eyes widen, and you inhale sharply as you realize what you just did. For a brief moment it feels like the weight of the world has been taken off you since you not only said it out loud but outrightly confessed to Solar. But just as quickly the burden comes back to you as you await her response or even her reaction, almost regretting saying anything as you realize that if you get rejected now, you will be utterly crushed and that heartbreak in no way would be worth getting the confession out of the way. You begin to panic a little as you can only think of the likely possibility of Solar turning you down and just as you are prepared to shut down, Solar grips your hand a little tighter, looking somewhat stunned before looking almost…relieved?

“Y/N….do you really? Feel that way about me?”, she asked, her voice shaky, filled with uncertainty.

You take a deep breath and look at her seriously and slowly nod, “Yes, I have never been more sure about anything”.

To your surprise she sighs in what seems to be relief and smiles, almost shyly. “I’m glad, I was a bit afraid I would put you in a tough spot but…I kinda have a crush on you too”.

Huh….did you hear that right? She said she has a crush on YOU?! Your mind raced with thoughts again but at the same time was blank as you were in so much shock. “What?”, you asked in a small voice.

“I like you too”, Solar answered, confidence returning to her voice as she now knows you like her too. She bursts out laughing suddenly, putting a hand over her mouth, her cheeks rosy. “I was actually a little stressed because I didn’t know how to tell you, but this date was a good idea after all.”

“So, this…was a real date?”, You ask nervously, still a bit overwhelmed by everything.

“Of course,”, she smiles, “even if neither of us confessed this would have been a real date”.

You smile too now, the weight of the world finally lifted off your back for good, you hadn’t felt this relieved in a long time.

“Come with me to my place”, Solar suddenly says while paying for the food, looking at you seriously.

“Huh?”, you feel like you didn’t hear her right.

“Let’s go to my place now, if you don’t mind”, she repeats.

“You mean…..”, you blush as you think about what Solar is implying. Was she really wanting to-

“Yeah, the other girls are out, we could watch a movie, order some food later. Is that fine with you”, She explains.

“Y-yes”, you basically squeak, feeling a bit stupid over your misinterpretation.

The next few hours go much smoother, Solar takes you back to her place, you both play some games and pass the time, a couple hours later you both flip through the tv to see what movies you want to watch and eventually choose one. Solar meanwhile ordered some pizza and chicken wings; she insisted that chicken wings are much better choice to eat while watching movies compared to popcorn. Everything is going well, you don’t even feel awkward, nervous, or self-conscious, not even when she shifted closer and put her arm around you. Everything was going perfectly, until you started to feel cold, you didn’t say anything, maybe it would pass soon. But it didn’t. However, you didn’t want to ruin the nice moment and decided to firm it but Solar had other plans and out of nowhere grabbed your hand and then looked at you.

“Y/N, your hands…are you feeling cold?”, she asked worriedly.

“Uh, a little but its okay”, you say trying not to shiver.

“You…you don’t have to pretend! Look at yourself!”, she scolds, “Theres a blanket in my room, just bring it and don’t feel afraid to ask for anything else!”

You do as she says and go over to her room, tentatively, looking all over and finding it really pretty. This is Solar’s room, and you are in it. It makes you feel a bit giddy for some reason. You pick her up blanket and take it to the couch, “isn’t this too big for me?”

“Silly, it’s for me too”, She laughs, her eyes showing hints of mischief.

“Oh”, you feel yourself blushing yet again as she snuggles next to you, the setting much more intimate now, you covered in Solar’s blanket up to your neck while she’s practically on top of you. It suddenly becomes really hard to focus on the movie, especially when you can feel her soft breaths down your neck, you stiffen and try not to focus on her but the more you try the harder it becomes. You consider shifting a bit but that’s when your world turns upside down, Solar pushes you back a little, her expression difficult to read, puts one hand on your cheek turning it ever so slightly so you face her and begins to lean in. Was this really happening? Solar about to kiss you?! You weren’t ready for this! If she kisses you now-

The moment her lips connect with your, you lose track of everything, closing your eyes reflexively, it’s a sensation unlike anything you have ever felt before, your whole-body tingles, it feels like electric currents are being sent over to you, your brain melting and before you know it you are already feeling out of breath in just a few moments. A few seconds later, Solar pulls away, smiling, “I kinda wanted to do that for a while now”.

You were speechless, completely red with embarrassment and could barely look at her without feeling some type of way.

She giggles at your shyness and lifts your face again, “More?”, she asks teasingly, knowing exactly what the answer was. You shyly nod and she immediately begins to kiss you again, a bit more tenderly this time yet filled with passion and you slowly gain the courage to kiss her back. The innocent kiss was now slowly turning in a full blown make out session, the two of panting, unable to look away from each other, in each other’s arms. She then takes it one step further, kissing you again but this time her hand drifts under your shirt, causing you to moan almost instantly. She smirks at your reaction and pushes you back, so you are laying down now and climbs on top of you. You just lay back and let her be in complete control, watching as she quickly takes off her shirt before kissing you again.

It wasn’t till when she started taking off your clothes that you realized again that this wasn’t really a dream. “W-w-wait!”, you say, panicking a little as you realize how unprepared you feel.

“Too far?”, Solar questions, stopping immediately, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s not that, just…my first time really doing-”, you mumble, covering your face a little as it reddens.

Solar just smiles and gently uncovers your face and gets close, “We can go as far as you want, we can stop whenever you want”.

“No, I’m ok”, you say with determination.

She nods, biting her lip, “Good”. She then started to kiss your neck and that in itself was something that you were content with going on for the rest of the night. As she begins to go eventually begins to move lower, down to your chest, taking her sweet time, exploring each and every bit of you before moving ahead. As she began to squeeze, fondle, and grope your breasts mercilessly, you finally began to moan. However, she moves on, much to your disappointment even if it lasts a few moments before spreading your legs and instead of going for your pussy, instead goes on to kiss and suck on your inner thighs, earning a gasp from you as you felt the air knocked out of you. This was a completely new sensation for you and your hands automatically moved to Solar’s head. She seemed unfazed and continued to tease you, moving ever so close to your entrance just to pull back again. You were already turned on before but now you were absolutely drenched, so the teasing was actually starting to feel like torture.

Solar didn’t seem to care about that though, she was completely focused on your thighs. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she turned her attention to your pussy, tracing her finger gently along it before looking up at you, “Y/N, I’m going to make you scream my name until your throat is hoarse”. Before you can even process what Solar said, she dived right in, tasting you while her hands played with your tits. Your head falling back immediately as shocks of pleasure began to make your body jolt all over, your legs closing around Solar’s head as you tried to keep track of what was happening. It was useless though. You were already panting and couldn’t even make a sound despite your mouth wide open. Solar then began to focus on your clit and that’s when your eyes began to roll back, it had barely been a few minutes, but you were already close to cumming, gripping her head tighter, you finally managed to find your voice back, screaming out for Solar, letting her know you are close. She doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest and only proceeds to stop playing with your tits and instead pushes two fingers inside you, causing you to scream out her name again and cum immediately.

Panting heavily as you come down from the high, you cover your mouth as you nearly scream again since Solar didn’t even slow down the whole time, continuing to finger you while, teasing, licking, and sucking your clit. Soon enough it feels like you are going to cum again, already feeling overwhelmed you couldn’t even focus on holding her head with your legs or hands and instead just slumped back as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, “Solar….”, you weakly moan.

She just pushes her fingers knuckle deep into you while also adding a third one, “I thought I told you to scream”. She receives no reply as you could only squeak and scream gibberish as you came again, your hips buckling and legs shaking. Solar still didn’t stop, her face coated with all your juices, her hair messy from you gripping it earlier. In what seemed like under a minute you came yet again, for the third time in total, your body going limp, jolting from pleasure as you process it. You are a complete mess, your hair disheveled, your throat dry and your legs shaking. That’s when Solar stops, pulling out her fingers, giving your pussy one last lick, top to bottom before pulling away and getting on top of you, kissing you passionately.

“I told you didn’t I”, She said, seemingly proud of her efforts. You have no response as you just focus on catching your breath, your body flushing red from all the exertion. She brings you some water which you gratefully gulp down. She down lays next to you, cuddling you which you love. You were feeling extremely tired, and some cuddles were exactly what you needed but there was a question nagging you at the back of head. “Are-are we dating now?”

Solar bursts into laughter and you could have sworn you saw her blush just the tiniest bit, “Of course, we literally confessed earlier today, and I spent the last 30 minutes-”

“Okay! I got it!”, you interrupt and hide your face in her shoulder.

She continues to laugh and puts her arm around you, stroking your back while teasing you. You both spend the next few minutes talking, cuddling, and teasing each other. You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until you woke up hours later, the rising sun blinding you for a moment through the windows and that’s when you notice Solar, still cuddling into you, sleeping.  You smile happily as you recall yesterday and that the two of you were officially dating. However, your thoughts were interrupted when you heard someone call for Solar, a voice you recognized, Wheein.

You panic, what if she sees you and Solar in this state? You quickly shake Solar awake and tell her the situation. She seems hazy for a moment before jumping out and quickly putting on her shirt but as she’s putting it on, Wheein walks in the room, you freeze hoping you can’t be seen with the blanket covering you.

“Solar unnie have you seen my-. Did you sleep on the couch again? WAIT! Is that someone- On the couch now? I can’t believe-”

At that point, you apologetically sit up, blanket up to your shoulders, head down in embarrassment and shame, accepting that you might as well face the shame now rather than drag it out.

Wheein stops mid-sentence, “WAIT, Y/N! WHAT ARE YOU? SOLAR UNNIE! HER? I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS, SHES JUST-”

Solar interrupts her, kissing her teeth, “Come on, don’t scream first thing in the morning. And yes, it is Y/N, we are dating now.”

“That’s what you said about the last girl too!”

“Only so you and Byul stopped making a fuss!”

“What last girl?”, you butt in, staring daggers at Solar.

Before either of them reply, Moonbyul and Hwasa walk in looking completely unbothered, asking about why the two girls are fighting and then they see you and their jaws nearly drop to the floor.

“Unnie, you can’t keep doing this”, Moonbyul says, which causes Wheein to look at Solar with a satisfied look.

“What do they mean Solar?”, you ask again.

Solar looks to the ground, swinging her arms nonchalantly, “I guess you can say you aren’t the first person I have been with.”

“Y-you guess?” you say in a shocked tone.

“OKAY, you girls leave and let me explain to her”, Solar says, glaring at the others who at this point realizing that Solar was actually serious about you. That’s when Hwasa starts laughing out loud.

“Unnie when you said that you wanted-”, Hwasa gets cut off.

“Out. Now.”, Solar orders authoritatively. Her tone kinda reminded you of last night and you felt a bit weak in the knees. But managed to compose to yourself when the other left.

“Look, Y/n, no point in lying or hiding, you aren’t the first person I’ve been with”. She tries to brush it off but does look a bit nervous for your response.

You take a deep breath, “I kinda expected that”, you say with a teasing smile, “but it’s really irresponsible of you to let your new girlfriend find out about something like this one day into the relationship.”

Solar looks at you in surprise and then sighs in relief when she realizes you aren’t really mad but just teasing.

“But how many others were there?”, you ask, your curiosity and jealousy get the better of you.

Solar just sheepishly smiles, “I think you should dress up and be more presentable, I can give you a shirt if you want.”

“Hey! Answer me!”, you playfully demand, shocked that she would just ignore your question like that.

Solar just suddenly kisses you in response, “A-a….a few but you are the only one who’s become my girlfriend”, leaving you speechless and making you wonder if you should be happy or shocked.

[hotlink907]

What do you think Mamamoo's opinions on edging are?

Edging is another one of my favorites kinks actually! I've written quite a few stories about it, but not too many Mamamoo ones. Hardly any Mamamoo actually.

Solar: Loves it! Both giving and receiving. Solar is a wild time in bed, and for her, edging lets her extend the fun. She loves winding her partner up and getting them really needy and whiny. Of course, she always lets them have a massive orgasm at the end. The edging is the way to get there! She also likes receiving it. She's not too whiny--she's got good control over herself, so if you get her to break, it's a big deal!

Moonbyul: Moonbyul is experienced but oh so caring and kind. She knows what edging is and she's really good at it, but she's not sure she wants to do it to you. If you can convince her that you want it though... then you better watch it. Because she knows you so well, and her hands are like magic. She'll have you begging in no time.

Wheein: Wheein isn't really into doing it, but she loves having it done to her. She's like putty in your hands, and it doesn't take much to break her demeanor and really get her whining for your touch. She loves feeling how much she wants you.

Hwasa: Oh, you're in trouble with Hwasa. The queen of edging. She won't even let you know she's going to do it--one second you'll be on the brink of orgasm, and the next second, you'll be begging her to keep going. She can tell how close you are just by the look on your face, and she's so good at reading your body. For her, it's like a game. She's not necessarily cruel (unless you want her to be!), but she loves showing you how much control she can have when she wants.

[misswoozi]

These first 2 pics have such big strap energy 🎮

https://www.instagram.com/p/CsxcbzPvHqu/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

BRUH

[sexualmamamoosnaps]

MTL into vibrators/toys

Name: Kim Yongsun (Solar)

Name: Ahn Hyejin (Hwasa)

Name: Jung Wheein

Name: Moon Byulyi (Moonbyul)

[solar-wing]

⚣ Puppy Love: Sweet and Romantic, but also somehow Murderous ❤️‍🔥

⚣❤️‍🔥 A/N → something I started writing while finishing up Shadowing Nightwing. Is this what I imagine my relationship to be like with Jason on a regular basis...absolutely. Absolutely. Am I somewhat delusional and living in a fantasy world? Also, absolutely, but also, mind your fucking business. anyways...! This was inspired from multiple posts and authors, who I have tagged and hyperlinked. @allllium @maj-b-s Thank you for feeding my obsession—ahem—my therapist will be sending you a bill. tee hee... WARNINGS: 18 + MDNI | College Male Reader | Fluff & Humor | Minor Violence (Implied) | Swearing/Crude Language | Smut | Breathplay | Possessiveness/Jealousy | Everyone wants Y/N's man |

⚣❤️‍🔥 Summary → Meet Jason and Y/N: Gotham’s answer to the ultimate “relationship goals”—if your relationship goals involve an overly protective vigilante with a slight obsession for tearing apart his boyfriend’s scandalous wardrobe (and sometimes his coworkers). Their love story? Equal parts intense, adorable, and absolutely chaotic. Jason’s the growling, brooding protector who’d burn the world for Y/N, while Y/N is the sunshine with just enough sass to keep him in check… well, sometimes.

⚣❤️‍🔥 Word Count → 14.5K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY ❤️‍🔥

If you asked anyone, they might hesitate to admit it outright, but the truth was hard to ignore: people envied Jason and Y/N’s relationship—and who could blame them? From the day those two started dating, they’d been like high-school sweethearts stuck in the honeymoon phase, but with ten times the intensity and none of the restraint. Not to sound bitter or envious—it was just a fact.

They were a painfully adorable couple. Jason was the doting, protective lover, almost to a fault. Sure, it’s a bit of a cliché, but he didn’t exactly help himself with the stark difference in how he treated others versus Y/N. Around everyone else, Jason looked permanently grouchy, as though every conversation he endured was a test of patience he barely passed. His eye-rolls, heavy sighs, and palpable disinterest didn’t go unnoticed; in fact, he made it pretty clear he couldn’t wait to walk away from anyone who wasn’t Y/N.

But the moment Y/N entered the room? Suddenly, Jason had nothing more important in the world. It was almost comical to watch this towering vigilante hang onto every word Y/N said like an overly attached puppy. Actually, that was the perfect way to describe their dynamic: Jason was a huge, lethal teddy bear with a soft spot, and Y/N was the unassuming boyfriend who had no clue how much sway he held over this giant who’d kill for him without hesitation.

Honestly, the best way to describe Y/N was as Jason’s polar opposite. He was social—well, social enough—and that sometimes got on his boyfriend’s nerves, who would’ve preferred to keep Y/N all to himself. It was partly jealousy, partly a possessive urge to monopolize his lover’s attention, but mostly it was Jason’s instinct to shield him from a world that had never been kind to the vigilante. Jason had been hardened by a lifetime of darkness, and he’d go to ridiculous lengths to keep Y/N’s light from dimming.

Not that Jason’s methods were exactly…practical.

“Jason, I get that you want to protect me, but you can’t shield me from everything,” Y/N said, finally sitting his boyfriend down for a much-needed conversation after yet another of Jason’s over-the-top protective stunts. “The only way you could do that would be to wrap me in bubble wrap and lock me away in a cave or something.”

“Trust me, I’ve considered it,” Jason muttered under his breath.

“Excuse me?” Y/N blinked, raising a brow.

“Nothing.”

Despite Y/N’s more social nature, he was everything Jason felt he was missing in life. He was the humor, the hope, the optimism Jason rarely allowed himself. And sure, his optimism came with a sprinkle of sarcasm when he was annoyed, but Jason loved that too. In fact, he was so taken by Y/N that it was nearly an obsession—though, to be fair, obsession was kind of expected from someone like him.

Would a therapist call it codependency or maybe some kind of unhealthy dynamic? Probably. But good luck telling Jason that. He’d likely see it as a personal attack—and let’s just say that if you value your life, you might want to avoid bringing it up. You’ve been warned.

But back to the point: Y/N and Jason’s relationship quickly became the kind that made even Y/N’s friends—most of whom were floundering in the love department—wonder just how he’d managed to snag such a devoted and caring guy. It especially made Jason feel appreciated, loved, and genuinely important to someone the way Y/N would never miss a chance to gush about his vigilante boyfriend to anyone willing to listen, and though he’d never admit it out loud, he secretly loved every second of it.

Though, do exercise a bit (lot) of caution, because once the topic turns to Jason, everyone’s in for a long haul—Y/N could and would talk anyone’s ear off that was willing to listen about how amazing his boyfriend is. Just as Jason was obsessed with Y/N, Y/N was equally smitten with Jason, and honestly? Jason wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Alright, Y/N, spill it! I need every detail about how you landed this guy. Don’t hold out on me—give me the exact prayer, word-for-word, quickly!”

“I—uh—well, I—”

“Come on, Y/N! My pen is drying up, and I’m not getting any younger!” His friend slapped a notepad and pen down in front of him, staring him down like he was about to write out a love spell straight from a witch’s spellbook.

“Girl, I don’t even know. The guy just kinda showed up in my life one day and never left,” Y/N shrugged, half-joking, though it was pretty much the truth.

It had all been by chance—well, kind of. If you could call Jason keeping an eye on Y/N “chance.” In reality, he’d been sort of… lurking, for good reasons (or at least reasons he’d justified to himself). It started one night when Y/N was finishing up his work-study shift at Gotham University. Now, calling an Uber would’ve been the smart, safe choice, especially in a city like Gotham. But he lived just 15 minutes away, and spending money on a five-minute ride? Please. He had a budget to consider.

That was before he found himself cornered in a dark alley by three oversized thugs who smelled like the embodiment of an ashtray mixed with cheap beer, a scent so thick it made his eyes water. The kind of men Gotham bred like weeds—rough, desperate, dangerous. Y/N barely had time to process the situation before one of them shoved him against a cold, brick wall, a knife pressing against his throat. His backpack was snatched and dumped unceremoniously onto the wet alley floor, its contents spilling out for their inspection.

His mind raced, paralyzed with fear and regret. He could practically hear his parents' voices reminding him to be cautious, to make smart choices, to avoid walking alone at night in places like this. Irony stung almost as much as the cold steel against his neck—the “responsible” choice would have been to spend that $15 on an Uber, not gamble his safety for a free walk. 

And was the money he’d save really worth risking his life for? Probably not. But hey, that was Gotham for you—always teaching life lessons the hard way. He braced himself, feeling the icy dread of not knowing if he’d make it out alive. Stories like these didn’t usually end well on the news in this city.

But fate, or something like it, had other plans.

Out of nowhere, a low, gravelly voice sliced through the night. “I’d drop the knife if I were you.”

Y/N didn’t dare turn his head, but he felt the tension shift as the thugs looked up, startled. Standing at the mouth of the alley was a figure who seemed to materialize from the shadows—a tall, broad man clad in black and deep red, with a sleeveless hoodie that revealed muscular arms wrapped in red bandages. A mask and hood concealed majority of his face, glowing red eyes staring down the thugs with an intensity that froze them in place. Strapped across his back were two long katanas, and a utility belt around his waist held holsters that almost certainly contained a pair of guns, adding to his already intimidating presence.

Red Hood.

Y/N had heard of him, of course. Gotham’s resident anti-hero, rumored to have a thing for…creative violence. The vigilante’s imposing size was enough to make anyone feel small; he towered over Y/N, his form carved out of muscle and something darker, something hardened. Even the thugs looked ready to wet themselves, and Y/N could feel the goosebumps rise on his skin as he finally dared to look up.

In less time than it took him to blink, Red Hood had closed the distance, dispatching the thugs with an efficiency that would’ve been impressive if it weren’t so, well, terrifying. Knives clattered to the ground, grunts and thuds filled the air, and Y/N just stood there, frozen like a deer in headlights, half expecting to wake up from a weird stress-induced nightmare.

But this was very real, as proven when Red Hood finally turned to him, and Y/N felt his breath hitch. Up close, the vigilante was even more intimidating—a wall of muscle wrapped in dark red and black, those red eyes glowing with an intensity that made Y/N’s knees wobble. There was no denying it; the guy was terrifying. Yet, for some reason, there was a weird, traitorous voice in the back of his mind whispering, He’s kind of hot, though.

“You alright?” The voice was rough, like gravel scraping across metal, but there was an undertone of concern. Red Hood’s gaze softened just a fraction, almost imperceptible, yet Y/N caught it.

“I—I think so,” he managed, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes were wide, and he forced himself not to flinch as Red Hood stepped even closer, the hulking vigilante now looming over him. Up close, he could see the muscles tense beneath the suit, the power radiating off him like heat.

Red Hood’s head tilted slightly, as if assessing him, and Y/N swore he felt like he was being scanned. Which, honestly, was fair. He was some college kid wearing a sweatshirt that said “Gotham U” in block letters, and this guy looked like he wrestled criminals for fun. But instead of feeling like prey, he felt this strange pull, like something was drawing him toward the vigilante. It was probably just adrenaline… or at least, that’s what he told himself.

Red Hood gave a grunt, a sound that could have meant anything from “good to hear” to “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, punk.” But then he leaned down, his helmet casting an ominous shadow over Y/N’s face. “Next time, take the Uber.”

Y/N blinked, the absurdity of the situation hitting him all at once. “Noted,” he replied, deadpan, because honestly, what else could he say?

He should have been scared—terrified, even. But instead, he found himself lingering on every detail: the way Red Hood’s chest rose and fell, the glint of his weapons, the sense of barely restrained danger that rolled off him in waves. And underneath all of that, a strange, quiet thrill that he didn’t quite understand.

Satisfied, Red Hood gave him one last look before he started to turn away, blending back into the shadows. But in a flash of impulsiveness, Y/N called out, “Wait!”

Red Hood stopped, glancing over his shoulder, clearly not used to random civilians asking for an encore. Y/N hesitated, realizing how ridiculous he must have sounded, but the words were already out there, so he figured he might as well keep going.

“Uh… thanks. For, you know, saving me. And also for the life advice,” he added, his voice dripping with awkward humor.

There was a pause—a long, silent pause where Y/N briefly wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake. But then, to his surprise, he thought he saw the faintest tilt of amusement in the way Red Hood shifted his stance. Was that… a chuckle? No, probably not. But he’d like to think so.

Red Hood nodded—a subtle acknowledgment—before disappearing into the night, leaving Y/N alone in the alley with nothing but his scattered belongings and a heart that felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest. As he knelt down to gather his things, he couldn’t help but survey the carnage of his soggy notebooks and papers, along with his now-broken laptop and tangled, half-shattered headphones.

He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he picked up a notebook that was more mush than paper. “Well, this is fine,” he muttered, trying to keep his spirits up. “Just a little water damage. Adds character, right?”

Then he spotted his laptop, the screen shattered and a piece of it barely hanging on by a hinge. He laughed, a bitter chuckle that held more disbelief than humor. “Guess it’s one way to force an upgrade,” he murmured, stuffing it back in his backpack like a defeated soldier gathering his gear after a lost battle.

And the headphones? Well, they’d been cheap anyway, held together by more wishful thinking than actual quality. “You were too good for this world,” he whispered dramatically, dropping them into the bag with a resigned sigh.

Despite the state of his belongings, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just survived something surreal, something that would haunt his dreams and maybe even—dare he say it?—excite him a little.

Unbeknownst to him, from the shadows a few blocks away, Jason eyed him from his hiding spot, a curiosity nagging at him, as if he’d found something worth watching over. He could see Y/N still crouched on the grimy ground, gathering his belongings—soggy notebooks, torn papers, a laptop with a shattered screen. He’d felt a pang of guilt as he watched, a flicker of sympathy mingling with a less-than-pleasant feeling of familiarity knowing all too well what it was like to lose the few things you relied on—to feel like the world had kicked you when you were down.

And while he’d never admit it, maybe a part of him liked that the kid seemed more amused than scared. After all, it wasn’t every day that someone didn’t scream when they saw Red Hood.

Of course, now that they were dating, Y/N was not surprised by the vigilante’s actions after their encounter when he’d come out of his apartment a week later to find a large box sitting on his doorstep with a plain label reading simply, “For You.” 

Inside was an assortment of brand-new school supplies including pristine notebooks in varying colors, a handful of smooth, high-quality pens and highlighters, and even a sleek, expensive laptop that he definitely could not afford on a student budget. Nestled beside it was a pair of high-quality Bluetooth headphones—the kind he’d ogled online but never dreamed of buying. And to top it all off, there was a sturdy, stylish bag to carry everything in.

And while most other people would’ve been slightly concerned at the fact that a random vigilante just happened to know their address after only one meeting where they didn’t even give their name, Y/N on the other hand, was processing the contents of the box with a mix of gratitude, amusement, and a new crush.

And so, their love story began, marked by Jason’s continued (and slightly overprotective) habit of rescuing Y/N from Gotham’s mean streets—even if the college student didn’t always realize he needed saving. Hence the “stalking” mentioned earlier.

Of course, was it technically stalking if it was done out of love and devotion for some random stranger you’d developed a massive crush on but couldn’t quite work up the nerve to talk to directly? Well… yes. Experts would say it’s still stalking. But hey, if those experts ever found themselves in a tight spot, Jason would be conveniently “unavailable” to save them.

Naturally, Y/N couldn’t exactly share the full story of his and Jason’s introduction. For one, his friends would roast him to the ends of the earth for being dumb enough to walk home alone in Gotham at night. He could practically hear their voices now: “Really, Y/N? Alone? At night? In Gotham? Do you not value your own life?” And frankly, he wasn’t about to give them that much material.

Oh, and there was also the tiny detail of Red Hood’s whole secret vigilante identity thing.

So, he went with a slightly edited version of the story, painting Jason as a “helpful stranger” who just happened to show up when Y/N “got lost” and had his bag stolen. And when his friends inevitably asked about the shiny new gear—a nearly $500 bag, top-of-the-line laptop, high-quality headphones, the works—he explained it all as a result of some extra scholarship money and financial aid he’d “saved up.” Sure, splurging on luxury tech and accessories might seem a tad unrealistic, but he’d throw in a line about a “really good sale” and call it a day.

Because as much as Jason’s habit of going overboard with gifts could be a little, well, extra, Y/N wasn’t about to complain. The man was thoughtful in a way few would ever believe, though his affection tended to be wrapped in thick layers of leather, weaponry, and a no-nonsense glare.

Jason loved hard, though he wasn’t quick to show it to just anyone. The guy kept his feelings locked up tighter than a Gotham vault, hardened by a lifetime of broken trust and betrayal. He wasn’t exactly the “wear your heart on your sleeve” type. But every so often, with the right person, he’d crack that tough exterior. And Y/N? Somehow, he’d slipped right through, without even trying.

And okay, could Jason be a little intense? Sure (absolutely). But when a vigilante with a borderline obsessive streak decides he cares about you, well… let’s just say things are bound to get a little out of hand. That’s just the price of having Gotham’s resident anti-hero as your personal guard dog.

Not that Y/N thinks of him quite like that, but it’s kind of funny, considering Jason really does act like a lovesick puppy when it’s just the two of them, his tough exterior melting away—it gave the energy of a Golden Retriever, maybe, or a Siberian Husky with an attitude problem. But the moment anyone else entered the room, his whole vibe transformed. If Y/N was his safe haven, the rest of the world was an enemy camp. He’d switch from doting boyfriend to a blend of German Shepherd, Rottweiler, and Doberman with the attitude and aggressiveness of a Chihuahua on an espresso shot. It was a little terrifying for others but to Y/N? It was just… Jason.

Part of what made their dynamic so unique was how Jason let himself be vulnerable around Y/N, something few people ever got to see. Y/N was his safe space, the person he could trust to see the parts of him he usually kept hidden—the softness, the care, the insecurities he guarded as fiercely as he guarded Gotham’s streets.

Funny enough, Y/N quickly discovered just a few months into dating that Jason’s love language was, without a doubt, physical touch. Why was that funny—and possibly the most ironic thing he’d ever experienced? Because when they first started dating, Jason avoided touch like it was the plague.

It took Y/N a while to notice it, but once he did, it was painfully obvious. Jason had this way of keeping just enough distance, as if he’d drawn a line no one was allowed to cross. At first, Y/N thought it was just Jason’s natural intensity, but over time, he began to see the pattern. Jason was hyper-aware of any physical contact—quick to dodge, tense when someone brushed against him accidentally, even flinching at touches he saw coming. It was like he’d trained himself to see any sort of physical contact as a potential threat.

And it made sense, really, considering Jason’s past and the double life he led—something Y/N only found out about a few months after they started dating. Jason’s body told a story all on its own, each scar and faded bruise marking a chapter of battles fought and enemies conquered. The scars weren’t just skin-deep; they were reminders of a life filled with danger, betrayal, and loss. And Y/N began to understand why Jason had always kept his distance, why he seemed wary of even the gentlest touch. To Jason, vulnerability had always come with a price.

Also, talking about his family was a rare event, and when he did, there was a hesitance, a guarded tone. Y/N knew bits and pieces—enough to understand that while Jason loved his family, there were wounds there too, emotional scars that ran just as deep as the ones on his body. He avoided talking about them, save for the occasional mention of Alfred, the family’s butler. Alfred was the exception, the one person Jason spoke of with nothing but respect and a rare softness. In time, Y/N came to love and appreciate Alfred just as much, seeing how deeply he’d cared for Jason when others hadn’t.

But even with Alfred, Jason’s life had taught him that letting people in, letting people close, meant risking pain. So he’d built walls, high and impenetrable, where touch was a luxury and distance was safety. Yet again, somehow, Y/N had slipped through those walls. Slowly, patiently, he’d helped Jason find comfort in a gentle touch, a warm embrace, and the knowledge that here, with him, there was no danger. Just love.

At first, it was subtle—the occasional shoulder touch, the brief brush of his hand, like Jason was testing the waters. But as he grew more comfortable, his affection started to show in quiet, gentle ways: a hand resting at the small of Y/N’s back, an arm draped protectively around his shoulders, or the way he’d pull Y/N close, as if his presence alone could shield him from the world. Sure, his protectiveness sometimes bordered on overbearing, but Y/N didn’t mind one bit. He’d come to cherish those moments, knowing that each touch, each fierce little act of devotion, was Jason’s own way of saying, I love you.

And before Y/N even realized it, Jason had practically become his shadow, glued to his side like some overly affectionate—albeit slightly brooding—puppy. It was like a switch had flipped, and suddenly, Jason couldn’t go a full five minutes without reaching out to touch him, craving the comfort and reassurance of Y/N’s presence. Jason was always there, one way or another: a hand resting on his neck, fingers tracing along his arm, a warm weight on his thigh, or just… hovering in his orbit like a bodyguard who happened to look at him like he was the best thing in Gotham.

Rarely did a moment pass when they weren’t connected in some physical way. More often than not, Jason would find any excuse to pull Y/N into a full-on cuddle, whether they were on the couch or in bed, as if he was storing up warmth like a battery. And his favorite spot? Laying his head on Y/N’s chest, listening to his heartbeat with his eyes closed, completely at peace as Y/N’s hands ran gently through his hair. For Jason, it was the ultimate comfort, a reminder that he was loved and safe—a rare feeling in his life.

It was endearing, really. Jason might’ve been Gotham’s big bad vigilante, but to Y/N, he was a full-grown man with the energy of a giant, needy puppy, demanding his attention with that silent, intense stare of his. And honestly? Y/N wouldn’t have it any other way.

Of course, Y/N would be lying if he said he didn’t get a kick out of the way Jason would pout and glare at him whenever he stopped rubbing his head or, heaven forbid, dared to refuse his touch. Imagine this six-foot-plus tower of muscle—a guy who could make dudes on steroids look like scrawny sidekicks—staring down his boyfriend with an actual pout because he wasn’t getting his cuddle fix. It was a sight that never failed to make Y/N laugh (not that he’d do it out loud; he valued his life, after all).

Jason could—and would—throw his ire at just about anyone else, often for the smallest of reasons. Anyone not named Y/N was fair game for his mood swings, his infamous scowl, and even the occasional growl. But with Y/N? Well, let’s just say he was spared from the wrath of Gotham’s most intimidating vigilante… unless he denied Jason cuddles or the sacred privilege of his bodily embrace. That, apparently, was the one line Y/N couldn’t cross.

The “punishment” usually lasted, at most, ten minutes. Jason would start by sulking, grumbling under his breath like a child denied dessert, and shooting Y/N the kind of glare usually reserved for Gotham’s worst criminals. Y/N, of course, would hold out as long as he could, but eventually, one of two things would happen. Either he’d cave, sighing as he finally opened his arms to let Jason claim his cuddle rights, listening as Jason mumbled dramatically about how he “should never be denied cuddles” because it was his god-given right, or—if Y/N took too long—Jason would take matters into his own hands.

And by that, it meant Jason would simply scoop him up, plop himself down, and drape his entire, solid weight on top of Y/N like some overgrown cat claiming it's human. There was no escape—Jason’s big arms wrapped around him like an anaconda, pulling him close until Y/N was completely enveloped, pinned down with zero chance of getting away.

Y/N didn’t mind, though. Quite the opposite, actually—it was hot. Sue him.

"Y/N, don’t take this the wrong way but… is your man single?” one of his coworkers asked, giving him a sly grin.

OOP—

GIRL. For your own sake—and for the sake of anyone within a mile radius—tread carefully. That man is as jealous and territorial as his possessive ass vigilante boyfriend, who’s on a level that’s practically legendary. No, seriously; Jason’s jealousy was on a scale that was insane.

Case in point: family game night. Tim had everyone playing this game where you had to come up with a word for each category starting with a randomly chosen letter. Simple enough, right? Well, when “J” was the letter of the round, let’s just say Y/N’s answers weren’t exactly… satisfying to a certain overprotective vigilante.

“Y/N,” Jason hissed, narrowing his eyes, “you’ve got two seconds to explain to me who the hell Jackson is.”

“I had to think of something!” Y/N replied, holding up his hands defensively.

Jason crossed his arms, staring him down. “And what does my name start with, hmm?”

“I—okay, listen, I panicked! I was thinking about Percy Jackson!”

Jason didn’t see it as jealousy—he was just protective, okay? But if his definition of protective happened to mean glaring down anyone who so much as glanced at Y/N, then so be it.

Y/N on the other hand…

Funny enough, Jason actually started complaining because every time he and Y/N went out together, people would give him looks, like they thought Y/N was in mortal danger. And okay, Jason got it—he wasn’t exactly small, or subtle. With his build, his perpetual scowl, and the way he seemed ready to throw down at any given moment, he could understand slightly why people would think the way they’d think. Shit, he’d do the same. But still.

When it got to the point of the cops getting called because the neighbors heard loud noises, grunts, and what they thought were sounds of pain and struggle after seeing a large and intimidating man drag Y/N into his apartment—when, in reality, they were just doing the dirty tango against the kitchen wall—it gets a bit annoying.

But that wasn’t even the real issue Jason had been complaining about. No, what had actually gotten under his skin was how everyone always assumed he was the threat, when in reality, it was Y/N they should’ve been worried about. People just didn’t see it, but Y/N had a dangerous side all his own. Just ask the kid who was dumb enough to try and pull a fast one on Jason by touching and caressing him in public when Y/N had stepped away for a moment.

The moment the college student came back… well, let’s just say things got ugly. Legally, however, Jason couldn’t speak about it. Not because he didn’t want to—oh, he’d love to relive the whole glorious scene—but because Y/N had made him, and his brothers, sign an NDA afterward. Yep, Dick, Tim, Damian, and Jason had to put pen to paper, bound to secrecy about The Incident.

Y/N had handled it with a level of ruthless efficiency that left the whole Bat family in awe. He’d dealt with that poor, clueless kid in a way that was so subtly devastating that even Bruce raised an eyebrow when he found out. Although, truth be told, Bruce wasn’t exactly shocked; he just hadn’t expected someone as sweet as Y/N to be quite so��� resourceful.

After that, the whole family understood that, sure, Jason might look like the scary one—but when it came to those he loved, especially when it involved Jason, Y/N was a force to be reckoned with.

Y/N glanced back at his coworker with a slightly distant look before letting out a laugh, shaking his head. “Girl, don’t play.”

Girl—seriously, don’t do it.

Thankfully, she chose common sense and life at that moment, laughing along with him. “You know I’m just kidding! But seriously, where did you find him? The things I’d do just to get a man who looks at me with even half the love as he does with you.”

It was in Y/N’s honest opinion that Jason had to be an angel or some divine gift sent to him from the heavens above. Or God, the Universe, Santa Claus, took mercy on him knowing that kind of unserious trouble he could get himself into. Seriously, it was like his life was written by some dude who strove to put him in the most unthinkable scenarios ever thought of by man.

…

Hold up.

…

Nah…unless?

“But seriously, where do you even find a man like that? ‘Cause the ones out here? Girl, they’re giving ‘bare minimum’ and vibes. God really needs to start restocking the good ones.”

“Where did I find him?” Y/N repeated, smirking as he wiped down the counter. “I don’t know. One day he just showed up, brooding and scary-looking, and now he refuses to leave.”

His coworker rolled her eyes, leaning closer like she was trying to decode some deep secret. “You’re dodging the question. Men like that don’t just show up. Spill the tea.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking his head. “Honestly? If I told you the real story, you wouldn’t believe me.”

And wasn’t that the truth? If he started explaining how Gotham’s most terrifying vigilante had saved him from a mugging, delivered new school supplies like some twisted fairy godmother, and then proceeded to burrow into his life like an oversized, territorial puppy, she’d probably think he was delusional. Or worse, that he was into some bizarre fanfiction-level nonsense. Which, fair.

Before Y/N could add anything else, his phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at the screen and couldn’t stop the small smile that crept across his face.

Jason: Did you eat yet?

Y/N sighed, typing back a quick Yes, Dad, even though it was a blatant lie. He didn’t need Jason going full hover-boyfriend just because he skipped breakfast.

Fifteen minutes later, though, Jason strolled into the shop like he owned the place, a brown paper bag in hand. Y/N barely had time to react before Jason plopped the bag on the counter, his expression hovering between annoyed and smug.

“Didn’t I just tell you I ate?” Y/N asked, arching an eyebrow.

Jason crossed his arms, his biceps straining his jacket in a way that made his coworker openly gape. “And I didn’t believe you. So here.” He gestured at the bag like it was some great offering, clearly unbothered by the audience they had. “You’re not skipping meals.”

Y/N sighed, opening the bag to find his favorite sandwich neatly packed alongside a container of fruit and—of course—a bottle of water. His coworker, meanwhile, was staring like she was witnessing a rom-com play out in real life.

“You know,” she whispered as Jason stepped back to lean casually against the counter, his watchful gaze flicking between Y/N and the shop’s door, “if you don’t marry this man, I will.”

Y/N snorted, shoving a grape in his mouth. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

In all honesty, Y/N knew the kind of love Jason offered wasn’t for the faint of heart. As previously mentioned, when that man loved, he loved hard—like all-in, no-holds-barred, borderline territorial levels of hard. And he wasn’t just protective—oh no, he was possessive with a capital P when it came to the things he cared about.

What did that mean?

Well...

Considering the kind of life Jason had lived—where the things he loved or that brought him joy were often ripped away in the most brutal, gut-wrenching ways imaginable—it wasn’t exactly a shocker. Jason had become fiercely devoted to guarding what was his, with a vigilance that often toed the line between endearing and slightly terrifying.

It was like an aggressive dog who decided one day that a random shoe was its favorite thing in the world. The kind of resource-guarding where even looking at the shoe too long earned you a deep, guttural growl of warning. Ignore the warning? Well, congratulations, you just donated a finger—or maybe two—to the cause.

If it’s not clear by now, Y/N was the shoe, and Jason was the dog. And when it came to Y/N, anything—or anyone—that so much as hinted at upsetting him, threatening him, or even mildly inconveniencing him would quickly find themselves on the wrong end of Jason’s wrath. It wasn’t a matter of if there’d be hell to pay, but how much. Spoiler: it was always a lot.

So, picture this: Y/N comes home after a long day of morning classes and an equally draining evening shift. On the surface, he looks fine. Totally normal. But what no one knows is that he spent the last twenty minutes sitting in his car, quietly sobbing into a handful of fast-food napkins.

He knew better than to bring those emotions into the apartment, though. Because while most boyfriends would give you a hug and let you vent, Jason would go full vigilante mode. If he even sensed that someone had made Y/N upset, it wouldn’t just be hell to pay—it’d be Gotham-wide carnage. And Y/N, being the thoughtful boyfriend he was, liked to minimize unnecessary casualties.

Armed with tissues, eyedrops, and a firm I’m fine, just tired mantra, Y/N stepped through the door, hoping to slide under Jason’s radar.

Nope. Not happening.

The moment Jason saw him, his expression shifted. Y/N had no clue what gave him away—was it the puffiness? His voice? The way he stood?—but Jason immediately clocked something.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asked, his voice calm, but laced with that dangerous edge that said he was already running through a mental list of suspects who might need a "visit."

Y/N froze, debating his options. He knew better than to lie. Jason would sniff it out in seconds. But he also knew that the moment he opened his mouth, Jason wouldn’t rest until he figured out who—or what—was responsible.

And honestly? That was the kind of energy Y/N both feared and loved about him.

“I just had a stressful day at work, Jason. I’ll be fine,” Y/N said, sidestepping as he tried to make his way past the towering vigilante and towards the bathroom.

But trying to get past Jason when he was in that mode? Easier said than done. It was like trying to walk through a solid brick wall—one that was armed, brooding, and ridiculously muscled. Jason was locked into full protective-boyfriend mode, which meant Y/N wasn’t going anywhere until Jason had the name, address, and probably the social security number of the person who dared to upset him.

Why he needed the social security number? Well, Bruce did teach him to be thorough when handling "cases." And in Jason’s mind, this was no different.

In one smooth move, Jason’s arm shot out, stopping Y/N’s attempt to breeze past him. With two quick steps, Y/N found himself backed against the wall—well, Jason’s chest first, and then the wall behind him. Jason leaned in, his presence overwhelming in the best way possible, his dark, piercing gaze locking onto Y/N’s like a laser. That intense look he gave—the one that said I have no problem keeping you right here until I get answers—made Y/N’s knees weak.

Not that he minded. Let’s be real: Jason’s body, his sheer presence, had always been Y/N’s favorite place to decompress, even if it came with the added pressure of being metaphorically (and sometimes literally) pinned to the hot seat. And honestly? Who could complain about being wrapped up in the arms of a man like Jason. If you wouldn’t feel the same, take your judgment elsewhere.

Jason tilted his head, his voice low and commanding as he leaned in closer. “Talk to me, baby. What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Y/N muttered, looking away, though his traitorous heart betrayed him by picking up speed. He could feel Jason’s gaze on him, heavy and unwavering. “Just a bad day.”

“That’s not nothing,” Jason replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. His arm caged Y/N in further, his body so close that Y/N could feel the heat radiating off him. “Bad days don’t make you cry in your car before coming home.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. Damn it. How does he always know?

Jason leaned even closer, his lips brushing against Y/N’s ear as he whispered, “I’ll ask again. Who made you cry?”

That commanding tone, combined with Jason’s overwhelming presence, had Y/N’s walls crumbling faster than he’d like to admit. “Jason, it’s nothing you need to get involved in. It’s my boss—he’s just been... making things harder than they need to be,” he said, his voice faltering as he tried to downplay the situation.

Jason’s jaw ticked, and his free hand gently cupped Y/N’s chin, tilting his head back so their eyes met. “Details. Now.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment before the frustration, hurt, and exhaustion bubbled over. “He’s cutting my hours—again. And I need those hours, Jason. For rent, for groceries, for school. I’ve tried talking to him, emailing HR, even bringing in a neutral third party, but nothing changes. And today…” He swallowed hard, his voice cracking. “Today, he reduced my schedule to the point where I’ll barely be able to afford ramen next week. And then he called me into his office to give me some bullshit ‘coaching moment’ that was really just him tearing me down in front of everyone.”

Jason’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as Y/N’s words sank in. “What did he say?” His tone was dangerously calm, the kind of calm that meant bad things were about to happen to someone.

Y/N shook his head, his voice breaking as he tried to get the words out. “I—I don’t want to repeat it. It was nasty, Jason. Just nasty.”

Jason’s grip softened immediately, his hand moving to the back of Y/N’s neck as he pulled him into his chest. “Baby, come here,” he murmured, his voice gentler now. Y/N didn’t resist, letting himself melt into Jason’s arms as the tears he’d been holding back all day finally spilled over.

Jason held him tightly, his strong arms a fortress of safety and comfort as he whispered, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Let it out.”

They stayed like that for a while, Jason eventually guiding Y/N to the couch so they could sit down. He pulled Y/N into his lap, holding him as if to shield him from the world. Y/N buried his face in Jason’s chest, the warmth and strength of his boyfriend grounding him as Jason’s hand gently stroked his back.

After a while, Y/N’s voice broke the silence. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash, Jason. Please.”

Jason’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. “I promise.”

The next day, Y/N found himself questioning that promise when Jason showed up at his workplace. The vigilante didn’t cause a scene—he didn’t need to. A quiet, private “conversation” with Y/N’s manager in the backroom was all it took. Whatever Jason said, it worked. By the time he left, Y/N’s hours had mysteriously been restored, and his manager couldn’t look him in the eye without stammering.

When Y/N confronted him later, Jason just smirked, pulling him into a kiss. “I didn’t do anything rash,” he said innocently. “I just... clarified some things.”

And honestly? Y/N didn’t even want to know what “clarified” meant.

It was that incident—the one where Jason paid a visit to Y/N’s workplace—when Y/N’s coworkers finally met the infamous boyfriend they’d only ever heard about in passing. Well, passing might’ve been an understatement, considering Y/N used any and every opportunity to talk about his man. At first, the constant mentions of “Jason this” and “Jason that” had been met with teasing eyerolls and mock groans. But after seeing Jason in action, shutting down their tyrant of a manager with one calm but devastating conversation, everyone got it. Completely.

Jason and Y/N quickly became what the group lovingly referred to as the “template” for relationship goals. Y/N didn’t mind the label; he liked that people saw the best parts of their dynamic. What they didn’t see—or couldn’t fully grasp—was the effort and balance behind it all. Jason wasn’t just the tall, brooding vigilante who swooped in to save the day, and Y/N wasn’t just the sweet, supportive boyfriend standing in his shadow. Their relationship was a partnership in every sense of the word, built on mutual protection and care for one another.

It was that incident—the one where Jason paid a visit to Y/N’s workplace—when Y/N’s coworkers finally met the infamous boyfriend they’d only ever heard about in passing. Well, passing might’ve been an understatement, considering Y/N used any and every opportunity to talk about his man. At first, the constant mentions of “Jason this” and “Jason that” had been met with teasing eyerolls and mock groans. But after seeing Jason in action, shutting down their tyrant of a manager with one calm but devastating conversation, everyone got it. Completely.

Jason and Y/N quickly became what the group lovingly referred to as the “template” for relationship goals. Y/N didn’t mind the label; he liked that people saw the best parts of their dynamic. What they didn’t see—or couldn’t fully grasp—was the effort and balance behind it all. Jason wasn’t just the tall, brooding vigilante who swooped in to save the day, and Y/N wasn’t just the sweet, supportive boyfriend standing in his shadow. Their relationship was a partnership in every sense of the word, built on mutual protection and care for one another.

“Y/N, how much is your rent for this place? It’s really nice, and I’m looking for something closer to campus,” his friend asked one day during a study session at his and Jason’s apartment. A few of their classmates had joined, and the group was sprawled out in the living room, surrounded by open textbooks, laptops, and half-empty mugs and cups.

Y/N was about to answer—he really was—but then paused, his face twisting into a look of genuine confusion as he stared off into the distance, like he was searching the recesses of his brain for an answer that just wasn’t there. “Uh… I think $1,100? Maybe? Don’t quote me on that, though. I’m not 100% sure.”

His friends all exchanged baffled looks. “Wait, what do you mean you’re not sure?” one of them asked, narrowing their eyes. “How do you not know your own rent?”

“I do! I just… forgot,” Y/N said with a shrug, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Now they were all staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “Y/N, literally what the fuck? How do you just forget how much you pay in rent? Who forgets that?”

“I don’t know, okay? I knew it when I signed the lease, but every time I try to pay it at the beginning of the month, Jason’s already paid it. Sometimes months in advance! And, I don’t know, after a while, it just stopped being something I thought about.” Y/N gestured vaguely, as if this explanation somehow made perfect sense.

That didn’t stop the dumbfounded stares—or the flicker of envy in more than a few pairs of eyes.

“Wait, wait, wait.” One of his friends held up a hand. “So your boyfriend just pays your rent for you every month—without even asking—and you just… let him?”

Y/N snorted, sitting back on the couch. “First of all, rude. It’s not like I just let him. Trust me, if you were in my shoes, you’d understand that trying to stop Jason from taking care of me is like… I don’t know, trying to explain to someone in a MAGA hat what a cult is and that they’re in one. You’re not winning that battle.”

Can the church get an amen?

Y/N wasn’t lying—not even a little—when he said that trying to stop Jason from taking care of him was an exercise in futility. If anyone dared to tell Jason he was “doing too much” for his boyfriend, congratulations, they’d now joined the prestigious ranks of those “experts” Jason would gladly let fend for themselves in a crisis. When it came to Y/N, Jason handled it all: physically, emotionally, financially—you name it, he was on it like white on rice. And no amount of protesting from Y/N could change that.

And oh, did Y/N protest.

“Jason, did you pay my rent again?” Y/N asked, stepping into the apartment with his wallet still in hand and a clearly exasperated look on his face. He’d just come back from the leasing office, only to find out his balance was already cleared with a sex month advance payment. Again.

His frustration hit a slight pause, though, as he spotted Jason lounging shirtless on the couch—pause for an aroused deep breath—engrossed in what appeared to be an intense game of Mario Kart on his Nintendo Switch. A book Jason had been reading earlier was tossed haphazardly to the side, forgotten in the heat of the Rainbow Road battle.

Jason didn’t even glance up as he responded, “Yeah, I did. Why?” His thumbs moved quickly over the buttons, his face set in that annoyingly sexy, hyper-focused expression that made Y/N momentarily forget why he was upset in the first place.

“Why?” Y/N snapped, pulling himself out of that temporary daze. “Because I told you not to! That’s why!” He stormed over, planting himself squarely in front of the couch, arms crossed and glare locked on his boyfriend. “Jason, we’ve talked about this. I can handle my own rent.”

Jason sighed, finally pausing his game. He leaned back against the couch with an air of deliberate calm, setting the joy-con controllers aside. “I know you can,” he said, his voice smooth and measured in a way that made Y/N’s resolve falter. Jason’s eyes flicked up to meet his, dark and steady, pinning Y/N in place. “But here’s the thing, babe—you don’t have to.”

“That’s not the point,” Y/N shot back, his voice wavering slightly as Jason stretched lazily, his arms going behind his head in a way that made the muscles in his chest and shoulders flex. Unfair. He was doing this on purpose.

“Isn’t it, though?” Jason’s lips curved into a slow, smug smirk. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and Y/N’s breath hitched as the intensity of his gaze locked onto him. “Taking care of you isn’t optional for me. It’s my job. Whether it’s paying the rent, making sure you eat, or keeping your gorgeous ass out of trouble, that’s mine to handle.”

Y/N’s cheeks burned as he tried to maintain his glare, but it was a losing battle. “Jason,” he said firmly, though the quiver in his voice betrayed him, “you can’t just decide these things without asking me.”

Jason tilted his head, studying him in a way that felt equal parts tender and possessive. “Sure I can,” he said smoothly, reaching out to hook his fingers lightly around Y/N’s wrist, tugging him forward until he was standing between Jason’s knees. “You can handle yourself—I know that. But you don’t need to. Not when I’m here.”

Y/N opened his mouth to protest, but Jason tugged him down into his lap, wrapping an arm around his waist to hold him close. His free hand slid to the back of Y/N’s neck, his thumb brushing against the skin there in a way that made Y/N’s heart race.

“Tell me,” Jason murmured, his voice low and commanding, “why should I let you stress over something I can fix? Hmm?”

Y/N bit his lip, trying to muster the strength to argue, but Jason’s tone, his touch, the sheer weight of his presence—it all left him scrambling for words. He hated how easily Jason could reduce him to this flustered mess, and he really hated how much he secretly loved it.

“You’re impossible,” he finally muttered, dropping his head against Jason’s shoulder, his voice soft and defeated.

“And you love me for it,” Jason murmured against his ear, his smirk practically audible.

Y/N groaned but didn’t pull away, his fingers curling against Jason’s chest. “This conversation isn’t over,” he mumbled, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

“Sure, babe. Whatever you say,” Jason replied, leaning back with Y/N still in his lap, his grip firm and unyielding. He reached for his Switch with his free hand, resuming his game like he hadn’t just completely derailed the argument and walked away victorious.

And as much as Y/N wanted to be mad, he couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at his lips. Damn it. He really did love him for it. The student didn’t need to say how much he appreciated the weight of Jason’s steady presence; Jason didn’t need to hear it to know. And while Y/N would keep fighting to hold his own ground, there was a part of him—an unspoken, undeniable part—that found comfort in letting Jason hold the world at bay for him.

Their domestic life was a careful dance of their unspoken dynamic, with Jason ensuring their world was secure and steady, while Y/N kept their home—and Jason—centered and whole. Their roles played out naturally, shaped by who they were as individuals. Jason made sure the outside world couldn’t touch Y/N, taking care of the big things, the dangerous things that he’d never let his boyfriend come within a mile of. His presence was a shield, and his devotion ran so deep that sometimes it felt like he’d lay the world at Y/N’s feet if it meant seeing him happy.

Y/N swears there was one time he cracked a joke about wanting to live out his “soft boi” aesthetic—because, obviously, the ‘i’ made it edgier—and Jason, without missing a beat, ran with it without ever looking back.

But Y/N? He was the one who kept their world turning smoothly, the quiet, grounding presence that made sure Jason had a place to fall apart when life became too much. Whether it was stocking the kitchen with Jason’s favorite snacks or simply sitting with him on the couch after a rough patrol, Y/N created the kind of space Jason didn’t even realize he needed—safe, steady, and entirely his.

That balance extended to the little things too. Jason liked to cook when he had the time, his meals always hearty, protein-packed “fuel” designed to keep them going. Y/N, on the other hand, was the one who brought warmth to the table, sneaking in something sweet or comforting—even if it meant slipping vegetables into Jason’s plate, much to his dramatic protests.

“Because it’s pesto,” Y/N replied innocently, grinning as he leaned against the counter. “Don’t act like you’re too good for spinach.”

Jason grumbled something under his breath—something about how spinach was a lie—but ate every bite, proving once again that Y/N knew exactly how to play him.

And then there were the quieter moments—the ones that reminded them both why they worked so well together. Nights spent curled up on the couch, Jason sprawled out with his head resting in Y/N’s lap, his fingers absently tracing patterns along Y/N’s thigh. Y/N would run his fingers through Jason’s hair, the simple, soothing gesture melting away the tension that Jason carried like a second skin. Sometimes they’d talk—about Jason’s patrols, Y/N’s classes, or random nonsense that didn’t matter. Other times, they simply existed together, the quiet hum of their apartment a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the world outside.

But even Y/N, the softer half of their partnership, had his limits when it came to anyone crossing a line with Jason. Like the time a journalist ambushed Jason at a charity event, spouting thinly veiled accusations about his past. Jason had been moments away from snapping, his fists clenching at his sides, when Y/N calmly stepped in.

“If you don’t have something constructive to say,” Y/N said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “then I suggest you find someone else to bother.”

The journalist, thrown off by Y/N’s tone—gentle but edged like a blade—backed off almost immediately. Jason hadn’t said a word about it afterward, but later that night, when they were home, he’d kissed Y/N’s temple and murmured a quiet, “Thank you.”

Y/N was never afraid to step in for Jason when he needed him to, even if Jason wouldn’t—or couldn’t—outwardly ask for it. And the fact that Jason didn’t have to ask made it all the more meaningful for the vigilante. Y/N always seemed to know when to intervene, especially in moments when Jason couldn’t advocate for himself—particularly when it came to Bruce.

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Jason had come home late that night, his steps heavy, his shoulders slumped in a way that told Y/N everything he needed to know before Jason even said a word. Gotham’s chaos could wear Jason down, but this kind of defeated air? That was Bruce’s handiwork.

Y/N didn’t push right away. He let Jason slip into the apartment, kick off his boots, and collapse onto the couch without a word. Jason sat there, his hands hanging limply between his knees, staring blankly at the floor like he was stuck in some internal tug-of-war. Y/N sat beside him, his hand lightly brushing Jason’s shoulder before resting on his thigh—a grounding touch.

“What happened?” Y/N asked softly.

Jason’s jaw tightened, and he exhaled sharply through his nose. “It’s Bruce,” he said after a long pause, his voice raw. “We were handling this case—a trafficking ring. I had it handled, Y/N. I had it. But he pulled the plug on the whole thing because it didn’t fit his goddamn code.” His fists clenched, his knuckles turning white. “There were kids involved, and he still chose the ‘moral high ground’ over what needed to be done. And then—” Jason’s voice broke, and he shook his head, his frustration giving way to something more fragile. “He looked at me like I was the problem. Like I was… too much again. Like I’m always too much.”

Y/N’s heart clenched as he took in the words, the quiet ache that laced Jason’s tone. It wasn’t just the case or Bruce’s stubbornness that hurt him—it was the way Bruce always seemed to find a way to make Jason feel like he’d never be enough, no matter what he did.

Y/N leaned in, his hand sliding up to the back of Jason’s neck, fingers gently massaging the tension there. “You’re not too much, Jay,” he murmured, his voice steady. “Not for me. Not for anyone who actually knows you.”

Jason didn’t respond, but the way he leaned into Y/N’s touch, his head bowing slightly, said more than words ever could.

An hour later, when a knock came at the door, Y/N didn’t need to guess who it was. He stood, sighing as Jason stayed where he was on the couch, visibly tensing at the sound. Y/N opened the door to find Bruce standing there, in some more casual wear (if you could ever call Bruce’s “old money” aesthetic casual), his expression as unreadable as ever.

“Y/N,” Bruce greeted, his tone clipped. “I need to speak with Jason.”

Y/N didn’t move, his hand braced casually against the doorframe. “No, you don’t.”

Bruce blinked, clearly unused to being told no—and even less accustomed to hearing it so decisively. “It’s important.”

“Is someone dead or currently dying?”

The blunt, and sarcastic tone of his words, while it didn’t visually throw the billionaire off, Y/N could see Bruce was surprised by his tone. He didn’t know how, but he clocked the shift in his demeanor. Maybe he was picking up some skills from his boyfriend after all.

“No, but–”

“Then, it can wait,” Y/N said, his tone edge with a finality that left no room for question or pushback.  “He just came home, and I don’t think he needs you piling on more stress right now. Whatever you’ve got to say can wait.”

Bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line. “This isn’t about stress. It’s about his actions tonight. He—”

“—did what he thought was right,” Y/N interrupted, his voice sharpening just slightly. “And from what he told me, he was right. You’re the one who undermined him and made him feel like he was a problem.”

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but Y/N stepped out into the hallway, lowering his voice but not his resolve. “Look, Mr. Wayne, I get that you care about him in your own… specific way. But if you want to keep him in your life, maybe stop treating him like he’s the black sheep who’ll never measure up to your perfect little code. Because right now? You’re the only one who can make him feel like this, and that’s not the kind of impact someone who ‘cares’ should have.”

Bruce’s face didn’t betray much, but Y/N caught the faint flicker of something—guilt, maybe—in his eyes. Still, he didn’t budge. “This conversation isn’t over.”

“No,” Y/N said calmly, stepping back into the apartment and beginning to close the door. “But it is for tonight. Goodnight, Mr. Wayne.”

With that, he shut the door, turning back to see Jason watching him from the couch, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief.

“Did you really just tell Bruce Wayne to go home?” Jason asked, his lips twitching like he couldn’t decide whether to smirk or shake his head.

“Damn right I did,” Y/N replied, crossing his arms with a small, satisfied huff. “And I’d do it again.”

Jason let out a low chuckle, his hand brushing through his hair as he leaned back against the couch. “You’ve got some nerve, you know that?”

“Please,” Y/N shot back with a roll of his eyes. “You act like it’s a big deal. Someone had to say it, and we both know you weren’t going to.” He paused, watching Jason closely, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And speaking of things you aren’t doing…”

Jason raised an eyebrow, his interest visibly piqued. “Oh? Do tell.”

Y/N leaned forward, tapping Jason’s knee with mock seriousness. “First, you’re going to get off this couch, because moping is not a good look for you. Then, you’re going to help me put away the laundry because I’ve been doing it all day while you were out being Mr. Broody Vigilante. And after that? You’re going to make us both something to eat, because I’m starving and I’m not lifting a finger tonight. You’ve got work to do, big guy.”

Jason blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before his expression shifted into something darker, sharper. He cocked his head, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, really?” he drawled, his tone low and deliberate as he sat up straighter. “That’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

Y/N’s pulse quickened, but he held his ground, leveling Jason with his best faux-bossy glare. “That’s exactly how it’s gonna be. So, get moving, Todd.”

Jason was on his feet before Y/N could blink, towering over him with that quiet, commanding energy that always sent a thrill down his spine. He didn’t say a word at first, just leaned down slightly, his eyes locked on Y/N’s like a predator sizing up its prey.

“You think you’re in charge now?” Jason asked softly, his voice deceptively calm. His hand brushed against Y/N’s jaw, his thumb tracing the curve of his cheek with deliberate slowness. “That’s cute.”

Y/N swallowed hard, refusing to back down even as Jason’s presence enveloped him. “Not cute,” he retorted, his voice wavering just slightly. “Efficient.”

Jason’s smirk widened, and in one swift motion, he scooped Y/N up from the couch, earning a startled yelp that quickly turned into laughter. “Efficient, huh?” Jason murmured, his lips brushing against Y/N’s ear as he carried him toward the bedroom. “Let’s see how efficient you are at following orders, then. Because we both know who calls the shots here, don’t we?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, his breath hitching as Jason pinned him with that intense, unrelenting gaze. “Jason…” he started, but his boyfriend was already laying him down on the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, the weight of his presence impossible to ignore.

“You wanted me to focus on something else,” Jason murmured, leaning over him, his hands braced on either side of Y/N’s head. “Congratulations, sweetheart. You’ve got my full attention now.”

And just like that, Y/N’s carefully constructed plan to distract Jason had backfired spectacularly—not that he was complaining. If there was one thing Jason was good at, it was reminding him exactly who was in charge.

“Alright, Y/N. Truth or Dare,” his best friend asked, a mischievous glint in his eye as the group sat around in a circle during their weekly de-stresser game night. Of course, their version of game night had taken a more explicit turn—totally par for the course with this group.

“Um… truth,” Y/N said hesitantly, already sensing trouble.

“Oh, perfect,” Seth said, rubbing his hands together like a cartoon villain. “Alright, Mr. L/N, the time has come for you to reveal your truth. Are you a bossy power bottom or a slutty, submissive one?”

The room erupted into a mix of laughter and gasps, with a couple of dramatic “oh my God” reactions thrown in for good measure. Y/N’s eyes went wide, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to form words. Before he could even start to defend himself, someone else chimed in.

“Bro, seriously? What kind of question is that?”

Y/N immediately felt a wave of relief wash over him. “Thank you—finally, someone gets it—”

But then came the follow-up.

“We all know there’s not a dominant bone in his body. If anything, it’s giving brat who likes to be put in his place.”

The room fell silent for half a beat before laughter exploded all around him, punctuated by a few dramatic “damn”s and someone nearly choking on their drink.

Y/N blinked, his brain short-circuiting as the betrayal sank in. “Excuse me?!” he finally managed, his voice high-pitched and offended as he pointed an accusing finger at the culprit.

“I dare you to try and tell me I’m lying,” His friend challenged him with a raised eyebrow. And when Y/N couldn’t formulate a defense for himself, his friend nodded his head knowingly, “Exactly as I thought.”

Because was he actually lying?

“I dare you to tell me I’m wrong,” his friend challenged, one eyebrow arched and a smug smirk tugging at their lips.

Y/N opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out—just the faintest stutter of indignation as his brain scrambled for a defense that simply didn’t exist.

His friend nodded knowingly, leaning back with a triumphant grin. “Exactly what I thought.”

Because, honestly… were they even wrong?

Frankly, if you looked at their relationship as a whole, was it really that surprising?

Jason, in a nutshell, was all rough edges and a protective streak that could rival Fort Knox, but with a kind of intimacy that Y/N never saw coming. It was whiplash in the best way possible. One minute, he was Gotham’s most intimidating vigilante, and the next, he was softly murmuring sweet nothings while holding Y/N like he was the most fragile, precious thing on the planet. Y/N had once joked that Jason was like a human light switch—rough and dominant one moment, soft and needy the next. Now? It was just something he accepted… and secretly loved.

Because the roughness Jason brought into their bed was never just about dominance—it was about claiming. There were nights when Jason would grip Y/N’s hips like he was staking his territory, growling low in his ear as he worked Y/N’s body to the point of trembling. If Jason was feeling particularly territorial—or, as Y/N liked to put it, “possessive alpha wolf mode”—restraints were almost a guarantee. Y/N would be left tied up, squirming and gasping as Jason moved with a kind of intensity that left no room for doubt about who was in control.

And then, like clockwork, came the switch.

Imagine this: a six-foot-something mass of pure muscle and testosterone, who’d just spent the last hour absolutely wrecking Y/N—legs shaking, throat raw from moans that could probably be heard two apartments over—suddenly curling up beside him like the world’s biggest teddy bear. Jason would go from rough, grunting dominance, a man on a mission to leave Y/N marked and molded for days, to nuzzling into Y/N’s neck with soft kisses and quietly demanding to be held like he was the one who’d been put through the wringer.

It was absurd. Completely and utterly absurd. And Y/N? He let it happen every single time. No wonder Jason was so spoiled in their relationship.

What else was he supposed to do when Jason left him in a post-fuck haze so blissed out he couldn’t even remember what year it was? By the time Jason would return from cleaning him up, soft praise slipping from his lips as he gently wiped Y/N down, the fight had already left him. And honestly? Who was Y/N kidding—he didn’t want to fight it. Not when Jason would tuck him against his broad chest like they hadn’t just committed sins the mattress might never recover from.

But here was the kicker: for all the dominance Jason brought into their dynamic, Y/N knew the man craved the quiet moments afterward just as much—if not more. Those moments when Y/N’s hands would slide up into Jason’s hair, gently massaging his scalp, or trace over the faded scars on his chest like they were the most fascinating pieces of art. Jason wouldn’t say much—he didn’t need to. The way he sighed into Y/N’s touch, letting himself completely relax, said everything.

It was a ridiculous dance of give and take: Jason would obliterate Y/N’s body with enough intensity to leave him rethinking all his life choices, only to turn into the world’s biggest cuddle bug immediately after, soaking up every ounce of affection Y/N could give him. And as much as Y/N liked to complain about the whiplash, the truth was that he wouldn’t change a single thing about it.

Because as much as Jason loved being the one in control, Y/N had him wrapped around his finger the moment his fingers slid into Jason’s hair, soothing away the world like only he could. It was a balance only they understood, and it worked in ways no one else could ever pull off.

But it wasn’t just in the bedroom where Jason’s attention shined. Y/N would often catch Jason’s gaze lingering at the most random moments, his blue-green eyes shamelessly raking over him like he was a five-course meal and Jason hadn’t eaten in weeks. Whether it was Y/N lounging around in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, running errands in shorts that rode up just a little too high, or even bundled up in the most unflattering hoodie he owned, Jason’s carnal desire never wavered. If anything, it intensified as their relationship deepened.

Jason didn’t even bother hiding it anymore. Y/N had long stopped being surprised by the firm smack on his ass whenever Jason walked by, followed by the satisfied grin his boyfriend would flash as if to say, Mine.

“Jason!” Y/N would shriek every time, a startled jump or yelp accompanying his protests. But the man never looked the least bit guilty. If anything, he’d double down, grabbing a handful and muttering something along the lines of, “Couldn’t help it,” or, “You’re teasing me.”

The truth? Jason had rules—categories, if you will—when it came to Y/N’s wardrobe. There were outfits Y/N could wear in public, outfits strictly for lounging at home, and then there were the "home only" outfits. And no, "home only" didn’t mean cute loungewear. It was a polite way of saying, for Jason’s eyes only.

“Babe, you’re not wearing that outside,” Jason had said once, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway as Y/N attempted to leave for the gym.

“It’s just a pair of shorts!” Y/N protested, gesturing down at the admittedly form-fitting gym wear that showcased his thighs just a little too well.

“Exactly,” Jason replied, his eyes narrowing. “Those are home shorts. You’re not walking into a gym full of thirsty people in that.”

“Jason, you’re being ridiculous,” Y/N huffed, crossing his arms.

“Maybe,” Jason said with a shrug, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Y/N’s waist. He leaned in, lips brushing against Y/N’s ear as he added in a low voice, “But that doesn’t change anything, now go change..”

And that was that. Jason had an uncanny ability to make his tone very rigid and unyielding, leaving no room for argument which would have Y/N’s protests dying on his lips every time.

Then, there were the outfits Y/N didn’t even get to leave the house in—because they didn’t survive Jason. It had become a running joke between them, the sheer number of shirts, pants, and underwear Jason had destroyed in fits of possessive frustration. If something hugged Y/N’s figure a little too well, Jason didn’t bother holding back. Many an innocent shirt had been ripped clean down the middle, casualties of Jason giving in to his urges.

“Do you have any idea how much you cost me in clothes?” Y/N had grumbled once as Jason stood over him, shirtless and smirking like the devil himself.

Jason had only shrugged, pulling Y/N into his lap. “Then stop wearing stuff that teases me,” he murmured, his lips trailing along Y/N’s neck. “Or don’t. Gives me an excuse to buy you more.”

And buy he did. But let’s be real—certain clothes never lasted long in their relationship. Case in point? The time Y/N ordered a pair of shorts he’d been eyeing for weeks, fully aware that Jason would raise an eyebrow so high it’d disappear into his hairline. Still, in a moment of fuck it impulse, Y/N clicked "add to cart," setting the stage for the chaos to follow.

When the package arrived, Y/N pushed the door open with a huff, struggling to balance the various bags and boxes in his arms as he shuffled into the apartment. “Jason, can you help me?” he called, his voice slightly muffled as he tried not to drop anything.

Jason, sprawled on the couch and scrolling through his phone, glanced up. His eyebrows rose at the sight of his boyfriend buried beneath a mountain of shopping bags. “More clothes?” he asked, standing up and strolling over with a teasing smirk.

“Yes, more clothes,” Y/N shot back, setting his haul down on the kitchen counter. “You know, since someone has a habit of destroying half my wardrobe.”

Jason shrugged, entirely unbothered. “What can I say? Some of them deserved it.”

Rolling his eyes, Y/N began unpacking his bags, pulling out folded shirts, joggers, and a few items that were more… adventurous. As Jason retreated back to the couch, Y/N grabbed one of his new purchases and headed to the bathroom to try it on.

A few minutes later, Y/N emerged, ready to test the waters. He stepped into the living room, his expression smug as he strolled in wearing a pair of black shorts that barely qualified as clothing. The sheer mesh fabric, paired with slits running up the sides, left little—if anything—to the imagination.

Jason glanced up, and his relaxed posture evaporated. His gaze sharpened, his smirk vanishing as his eyes darkened with a possessive glint. “Those,” he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble, “are not leaving this apartment.”

Y/N paused, glancing at Jason’s expression before looking down to examine the shorts. “What? These? Oh, come on, they’re gym shorts,” he said, smoothing the fabric over his thighs. “I can’t wait to test them out during leg day.”

Jason’s jaw ticked, his gaze locked on Y/N like a predator sizing up its prey. “You’re not wearing those to the gym.”

“Jason, don’t start,” Y/N said, stepping closer to the couch—his first mistake. Paired with the loose, cropped tank he was wearing, the look was downright scandalous. He twirled around playfully, flashing a cheeky grin. “See? They’re nice. Functional.”

Jason didn’t reply. He just sat there, arms crossed, his eyes narrowing as Y/N paraded around, pushing the limits. The tension between them was palpable, thickening with every second that Jason didn’t speak. And when Y/N cocked a hip and teased, “What? Don’t like them?”—that was the final straw.

Jason moved so fast Y/N barely registered it. In one fluid motion, he reached out, grabbing the shorts by one of the side slits and yanking hard. The fabric tore with a sharp rip, leaving Y/N stumbling forward with a gasp.

“Jason!” Y/N yelped, his voice equal parts indignation and shock. But before he could gather himself, Jason leaned back on the couch, effortlessly pulling Y/N into his lap. His hands gripped Y/N’s waist, holding him firmly in place as his legs were spread across Jason’s thighs.

“These,” Jason growled, his hands sliding down to Y/N’s exposed skin, “are home-only shorts. Got it?”

Y/N squirmed, pressing his hands against Jason’s chest in a weak attempt to push away. “Jason, you can’t just—”

Another sharp rip interrupted him as Jason’s rough fingers tore at the other slit, leaving the shorts hanging on by mere threads. Y/N gasped, heat rushing to his face as Jason’s hands roamed possessively, smoothing over his bare thighs with deliberate, firm strokes.

“What did I say?” Jason questioned, his voice a dangerous whisper that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. “These are for my eyes only.”

Y/N’s protests dissolved into breathy whines as Jason’s hands tightened around his waist, pulling him closer. A sharp smack landed on Y/N���s rear, drawing a startled yelp, followed by another that left him gripping Jason’s shoulders for balance.

“Stop squirming,” Jason ordered, his tone firm and commanding as he leaned in, his face inches from Y/N’s. His dark gaze pinned Y/N in place as one hand slid to the back of his neck. “You know how this works, sweetheart. You push, I push back.”

Y/N bit his lip, his glare faltering under Jason’s intense stare. At some point, the defiance melted into submission, and their lips collided in a heated, desperate kiss. Jason’s hands never left Y/N’s body, gripping, claiming, and asserting dominance with every touch.

Before Y/N knew it, he was on his knees, Jason standing over him with his pants tugged low enough to reveal just how demanding he was. Y/N didn’t fight it—instead, he leaned into Jason’s command, eager to please the man who had thoroughly dismantled every ounce of his bravado.

By the end of it, Y/N was back on Jason’s lap, legs spread on either side as his body trembled with it being moved roughly up and down on the vigilante’s manhood, his own throbbing hardness rubbing against his boyfriend’s abs as Jason held him close. The only piece of clothing left between them were the shredded remains of the mesh shorts clinging to Y/N’s hips—barely.

Of course, Jason had to replace them with not one, but three new pairs after the fact. But he made it very clear they’d all meet the same fate if Y/N ever dared to wear them outside the apartment.

Did Y/N listen? Absolutely not. Because, let’s be real—he loved pissing Jason off. And honestly? Maybe the whole “brat who likes to be put in his place” thing wasn’t so far off after all.

And, of course, Jason wasn’t the only one who knew how to push buttons. He had his own arsenal of outfits that drove Y/N wild, and he wielded them with precision. Whether it was his compression gear that clung to his chest and arms in ways that made Y/N’s mouth go dry, or his Red Hood attire that practically screamed dominance, Jason loved to see the effect his clothing—or lack thereof—had on Y/N.

“You’re staring,” Jason had teased once, pulling his hoodie over his compression top in the middle of the gym.

Y/N, flustered and blatantly ogling, had tried to recover with a weak, “No, I wasn’t.”

Jason had chuckled, leaning in just enough to murmur, “You were. And I liked it.”

But the real chaos came in the bedroom. Jason, ever the tease, would sometimes refuse to take off his compression shirt or Red Hood pants during sex, fully aware of the primal side it brought out in Y/N.

“Stop, don’t take it off,” Y/N had panted once, his fingers gripping the slick, tight material as Jason tried to pull it over his head. “Leave it on.”

Jason had smirked, leaning down to kiss Y/N’s neck as he growled, “Anything you want, sweetheart.” He knew exactly what he was doing, letting Y/N’s hands wander over the material, the added friction driving him crazy in the best way.

Jason loved pulling that raw, uninhibited side out of Y/N. It was a side only he got to see, and he relished every second of it. Because while Jason loved being the one in control, he also loved seeing Y/N completely undone, lost in the moment with him.

It was, perhaps, a side effect of Jason’s deeply ingrained dominant nature—his unrelenting need to maintain a sense of control over his surroundings and the people within them. Did that mean he saw Y/N as something to control? Absolutely not. But Jason would be the first to admit that the urge to assert himself surfaced now and then. Fortunately, he had found a way to channel it into something far more productive, releasing it in moments of intimacy where it was not only welcomed but eagerly reciprocated.

And those moments of intimacy? They weren’t confined to the bedroom. Jason’s possessiveness bled into every aspect of their lives, a steady undercurrent to the way he loved. His need for control stemmed from a life filled with chaos, and Y/N understood that better than anyone. Whether it was the firm weight of Jason’s hand resting on the back of his neck during a particularly heated moment, or the low, growling reminders of exactly who Y/N belonged to, Jason’s message was always clear: he didn’t just love Y/N—he claimed him, body and soul.

Jason didn’t say much when Y/N walked into their apartment wearing the oversized hoodie. It was one of Jason’s, slightly frayed at the cuffs and just loose enough to drown Y/N’s smaller frame. The sight alone had Jason's lips twitching upward, his ego swelling with unspoken pride. There was something about Y/N wearing his clothes, especially in public, that hit Jason in a way he couldn’t describe. It wasn’t just the visual—it was the claim it represented, the quiet acknowledgment that Y/N was his, and he didn’t even need to say it out loud for the world to know.

“Isn’t this your hoodie?” Y/N asked casually, dropping his bag onto the floor as he walked past Jason toward the kitchen. He sounded innocent, completely unaware of the fire he’d just stoked. “I borrowed it to wear on campus today. It’s so comfy.”

Jason didn’t respond right away, his gaze trailing after Y/N like a predator tracking its prey. He could see how the fabric clung to Y/N’s shoulders and chest, the way the hem barely grazed the tops of his thighs. It was maddening. He let out a slow, measured breath, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah, sweetheart. It’s mine,” Jason finally said, his voice low but even.

Y/N hummed a little as he rummaged through the fridge. “Well, don’t expect to see it for a while. I’m keeping it.”

Jason’s jaw ticked, his fingers tapping against the armrest of the couch. You’re keeping it, huh? The possessive part of his brain whispered promises of retribution, even as he outwardly played it cool. He waited, biding his time.

Later that night, Jason made his move.

Y/N barely had a chance to react before he found himself pinned beneath Jason on the mattress, the hoodie in question already shoved halfway up his torso. Jason’s massive frame hovered over him, his green-blue eyes blazing with a mix of heat and unrestrained hunger.

“You wore my hoodie,” Jason murmured, his voice husky and low, each word dripping with an intensity that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine.

“Yeah,” Y/N managed to reply, his voice breathless as Jason’s hands slid beneath the fabric, rough palms grazing over his bare skin. “I… I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Jason smirked, leaning down until his lips brushed against Y/N’s ear. “I don’t mind, sweetheart,” he whispered. “In fact, I like it. But you should’ve known what that would do to me.”

Before Y/N could respond, Jason’s lips captured his in a searing kiss, stealing the air from his lungs. The hoodie bunched awkwardly around Y/N’s chest as Jason adjusted their positions, one hand pinning Y/N’s wrists above his head while the other roamed freely, kneading his thighs and gripping his waist.

Jason moved slowly at first, rocking his hips in a deliberate rhythm that had Y/N arching up into him. The friction of the hoodie’s fabric against their heated skin was intoxicating, Jason’s voice dropping into a growl as he murmured filthy words into Y/N’s ear.

“You wore this out in public,” Jason said, his voice dark and possessive as his hand slid up to gently grip Y/N’s throat. “Let everyone see you in my clothes. Do you know what that does to me? Huh? Knowing they all saw you like this, wearing something that smells like me?”

Y/N whimpered, his eyes glassy as he gazed up at Jason. His thighs trembled where they were pressed against Jason’s hips, every sharp thrust pulling more desperate sounds from his lips.

Jason tightened his grip slightly, just enough to send a jolt of adrenaline through Y/N without ever crossing the line. “Next time,” Jason growled, his pace rough and demanding now, “ask me first. Or better yet, let me put it on you myself. Because when you wear this, it’s not just a hoodie—it’s a mark. A reminder to everyone who you belong to.”

Y/N’s head lolled back against the pillow, his hands twisting beneath Jason’s unyielding grip. His voice was barely above a whisper as he replied, “Yours, Jason. I’m yours.”

That was all Jason needed. He buried himself deeper, his hand slipping from Y/N’s throat to cup his jaw as he captured his lips again. By the time they were both spent, the hoodie had become an even bigger mess—damp with sweat and stretched beyond repair. Jason lay beside Y/N, his chest rising and falling as he dragged a hand over the faint marks he’d left on Y/N’s neck.

“You’re not wearing this hoodie out again,” Jason murmured, his tone soft now, though no less firm.

Y/N let out a sleepy laugh, snuggling closer to Jason’s side. “Good thing you’ve got plenty more for me to borrow.”

Jason chuckled, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s temple. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

Y/N smirked, his eyes fluttering shut. “Not a chance.”

Jason let out a soft laugh, wrapping his arms around Y/N and pulling him closer. Because for all his possessiveness, all his need to dominate and claim, it was moments like this—holding Y/N close, feeling the steady beat of his heart—that reminded him what all of it was really for. Y/N couldn’t help but smile to, because no matter how overwhelming Jason’s love could be, it was also the safest place Y/N had ever known.

Yeah, their love really was like no other. Y/N could absolutely understand why people envied and praised their relationship—it was intense, chaotic, and tender all at once, the kind of connection that made rom-coms look bland by comparison. If he were in their shoes, he’d probably be gushing about it too. Hell, he already did, and he was living it.

But honestly? The next person who came up to him with the audacity to ask if Jason was single was about to catch hands. Y/N normally wasn’t the jealous one in their relationship as it’s been made clear—normally—but there were limits. And some people clearly didn’t know what those limits were.

Just ask that bitch, Xavion…

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[so1arso1stice]

can u write bottom!ningning x fem!reader? Any plot you have in mind 🥹

ofc i can!

VERSACE PRINCESS

———————————————————

f!bottom!idol!ningning x fem!switch!reader

summary: ningning was gone the whole day at a Versace event, and she had missed her girl so SO much ;)

warnings: smut, tongue play, sloppy kisses, overstimulation (ish), freaky shit in general, fingering, pet names, praising, after-care, a bit of fluff at the end

an: YESS IM SO HAPPY MY FIRST ASK IS A NINGNING SUGGESTION!!! ningning my girl frfr

the ending kinda sucks ik that im bad at writing endings from time to time so give me peace 🙏🏾

———————————————————

it was 9pm, and you were on the couch watching tv, not! the tv was only just background noise to you, you were only looking at the door to see if you girlfriend, ningning had gotten back from her Versace event yet. at this point you’ve been waiting for around 2 hours for her and you’ve started to think that she’ll just come home in the morning. so you decide to try and actually find something good on tv to actually watch and you managed to find a show that’ll keep you occupied. after a couple minutes your eyes were glued to the tv.

until you heard keys jangling and the door rattling open, with an exhausted ningning walking into the house. you ran up to hug and kiss her “babe! i’ve missed you so much!” you said. you really, truly missed her; BAD. she did kiss and hug you back but they were more sloppy than her more classy, organized, kisses. you paid it no mind, it wasn’t the first time you guys were sloppy kissing.

ning says, in a more tired tone, “get on the bed, i have something for you.” she then whispers something in your ear,

“i want that pussy of yours so bad…”

you had a slight breath hitch. all you could do is just nod, go upstairs and get on the bed. you were contemplating on taking off your pants or waiting for ningning to do so, but you decided to take them off for her. (so kind of you 😊)

she walks into the bedroom and you were already on the bed, in a cute little pose for her. “damn,” “all dolled up for me?” she smirks “you really want to get ruined, huh?” you could only nod. you loved days when ningning was dominate!

she gave you a little pat on the head “mmm, my cute girl..” she sat down on the bed next to you and couldn’t stop looking at your already dripping wet pussy. she went to go and put her fingers in first, which already caused you to start opening up your legs. all she could do was lightly snicker. she loved whenever you acted like this, easily submitting to her. the sight was perfect in her eyes. she started to pump her fingers in and out, harder and harder. you couldnt help but start spewing out moans. this filled ningning with pure happiness, her favorite sound is your moans. she continue to pump her fingers in and out and you continued to moan those stunning moans.

“baby, i-im close…” you said. around this time, ningning was only fingering you for 8 minutes, that’s by far the quickest she’s ever made you cum. you could see her smirking. you could tell she was enjoying every second of this “cum for me, baby” were the only thing she said. without warning she added a third finger, very eager for you to cum “i can believe you’re about to cum so fast”

the third finger definetly you did leave you in some shock. you honestly felt like you were about to cum all over her. “your the only one who makes me feel like this, that’s why” you barely managed to speak out. you felt a pure state of joy. ningning has never really fingered you like this before, it seems like she’s extra eager to see you cum.

“ning, baby—“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence before you cummed all over her fingers. you could see her smile an actual smile of happiness. “good girl. let’s see if i can make you cum again” she smirks as she goes to face your pussy. again, without warning, she sticks her tongue up your pussy, eating up all of the excess cum still on you. you honestly felt like you could just cum again by the feeling of this. never ever has ningning been so eager to eat you out. (she had a long day so it’s ok 😄 )

ningning honestly felt like she could die at this moment. she was keeping her dominance but inside she felt an indescribable state of bliss. she didn’t even notice how fast and deep she was licking up your insides. she was pumping her tongue in and out, occasionally touching your g-spot.

again, you felt close “baby…” ningning’s eyes were closed and she could barely even speak. she just made a little “hm?” sound, with her mouth not daring to leave your cunt.

“i’m close… a-again” you could feel ningning smirking at you. you felt kind of embarrassed but didn’t really care, she knows what she’s doing.

ningning lifted up your legs, holding them up in the air. this sight was beautiful for the both of you. your pov: had ningning beautifully eating you out. and ningning’s pov: had her eating out the girl of her dreams.

“baby, i’m gonna cum again” ningning could barely even react. you hot cum had came slowly into her mouth. finally, she had backed up from your pussy to look at her beautiful, fucked out girl. “awh baby, you tired?”

you nodded. you felt kind of ashamed because you usually last longer. the ashamed-ness quickly washed away with your beautiful girlfriend giving you praises such as “my sweet girl” “i love you” “you did great”

“i’ll be right back my sweet” she then goes to get a towel and cleans you up. “awh baby! you shouldn’t have!”

“i wanted to, you deserve after care” she goes to kiss your forehead before getting into bed next to you to cuddle.

“my versace princess” you say as you kiss her on the cheek, eventually falling asleep in her arms.

[slvtforfiction]

Johnnie with a reader who loves loves loves pink?? And her style is polar opposite from Johnnie nd stuff

Polar opposite types ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

☆ Omg yes! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

☆ Thank you for the ask anon :)

☆ Johnnie Guilbert X Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

☆ Fluff ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

☆ Headcanons :)

☆ Masterlist

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

☆ If you had hello kitty pajamas,yk Johnnie is getting them with you.

☆ Finds your aesthetic/style cute even if it’s not something he would dress up in.

☆ Will actively show you off,despite your differences.

☆ Will jokingly try to dress in your style for a day to get a YouTube video out of it.

☆ Thinks it’s cute that you love pink and will support you no matter what even if it’s not something he does.

☆ Will help you decorate your room more to your aesthetic and gets really happy seeing your finished room

☆ Will buy you things that remind him of you,even if it’s little he thinks it’s nice to see you wearing or fiddling etc. with whatever he bought you

☆ Will buy you decorations in pink that he saw and help you decorate with them.

☆ I feel like Johnnies main love languages is affirmation and gift giving and he constantly gives you compliments and random little things that made him think of you.

☆ If you’re more scenecore pink he would love to go clothes shopping with you and help you pink out clothes

☆ If you’re more pastel/neutral pink he would love to go shopping with you to pick out random bits that fit your aesthetic

☆ I feel like Johnnie would buy you matching outfits but in different colours

☆ “Babe look what I got!” He’s so excited to show you everything he got on a shopping hall even though it’s not your style.

☆ You could definitely steal and wear his things and because it’s oversized on you it makes him soft,he just wants cuddles w his fav person that’s currently wearing his clothes :( <3

☆ Johnnie drags you into the freezing cold to make a snowman when it snows and will make you wrap up in your pretty pink sweaters and everything he can find,just wants his baby to be warm <3 (random but had to be said)

☆ Definitely buys you pink blankets and buys himself a black blanket for movie nights

☆ Loves to watch you do your makeup,loves to see you put on your pretty blush and eyeliner

☆ Might let you do his makeup for a change (and a video)

☆ If you two ever move in together the house would be divided between pink and black,would mainly let you have the most of the house pink

☆ Johnnie definitely tries to do one of those bleach hoodies but tries to dye the bleach pink for you :( <3

☆ Would also fabric dye some things for you to wear because he likes knowing he made something and you like it enough to wear it even if it’s just around the house/apartment <3

☆ Johnnie loves seeing you in his clothes because it’s just domestic,even though it’s not your aesthetic he just thinks you look pretty either way (especially in his clothes)

☆ Johnnie will buy you jellycats like once a month in pink,will always try to get the seasonal and rare ones if he can

☆ Johnnie loves to see you trying to buy him stuff which fits his personality (like clothes etc.) he just likes that you were thinking of him.

☆ Johnnie definitely tries to buy you jewellery as well as accessories etc.

☆ Johnnie proudly wears whatever you buy him always mentioning “My girlfriend bought me this look how cool this is.” Even if it’s not bought up in conversation he will make sure it’s known to everyone.

[slowlydifferentbluebird]

Past weeks update 👀

It has been such a long time since I posted on here my favourites pics these beauties have update on their IG, so...time to work, I guess 🙈

First of all, we have our lovely leader, Haseul. I've never been too familiar with all Loona member but lately they all have been wrecking me and obviously the leader had to take the lead in that😵‍💫

Then Dawon reminds us that she's hot and fit af. The combination of face, booba and abs really destroy me. Also the gap between her legs? Such an incredible feature👀

Next we have Jisun. This pic has nothing of too explicit but the mommy vibes... she's coming back from the gym to "take care" of you🫠

Obviously this would not be a Zazá post without featuring one of my wives, so just take a look of Mommy Solar. Miss, your outfit is already distracting, can you please keep that tongue away?👅

And last but not least, a fresh update of few minutes ago: Yujeong of Brave Girls. They're such an underrated group, both on vocals and beauty. And since they changed their agency, they have become...more bold 😈

Zazá

[theladyofthevarioussorrows]

Sunspots

Fandom: Sunshine (2007)

Pairing: Robert Capa x fem!reader

Word count: 6,400+

Characters: Robert Capa (Cillian Murphy), the rest of the cast is only mentioned.

Summary: Alternate universe (duh). Reader is the 9th crew member on the Icarus II as a second physicist assigned to assist Capa; she and Capa started dating at some point during the mission. But, in this story, the mission was successful, and everyone lived to make it back to Earth; the reader and Capa have been together ever since. The story takes place during a solar eclipse two or three years or so after they make it back to Earth, and as to be expected, Capa is excited about and fascinated by the eclipse, and so is the reader. He is set on making it a beautiful and romantic experience for her, especially since it was because of them that they can see it from Earth.

Warnings and additional tags: Fluff, smut (p in v), established relationship, mention of masturbation (m and f), the mission is successful in this (everyone makes it back to Earth in one piece), soft!dom Capa if you squint, Capa is slightly out of character in this (he's happy, he's deeply in love with the reader, and he's a little bit of a tease), mention of airsickness, reader-insert, reader-interactive, reader uses Capa's first name a few times, Capa calls the reader "sunshine" (I think it's fucking cute okay? Sue me. I'm just a girl.).

Notes: This is my first fic in literal years, and it is in two parts...both are in this post. I took a lot of liberties here. Necessary ones I think, but liberties nonetheless. I don’t know a lot about space and space travel. I know very little about it actually. However, I did do some research (if you could call it that) and tried to make it as accurate to the movie as I could. I had a ton of fun writing this! I miiiiiiiiight add to this later on, we'll see! I hope you guys like it!

--->Smut below the cut! NSFW, minors DO NOT INTERACT!<---

He had been planning this for months. Years, to be exact. Up until now, he was convinced that if he made it back in one piece, he would have been alone.

Capa had spent over a year cramped up on the Icarus II with eight other crew members. Kaneda, Searle, Trey, Corazon, and Cassie seemed to take him seriously a good chunk of the time, but stayed mostly neutral towards him. Harvey and Mace tended to direct a lot of their anger towards him. Whether it was out of jealousy, anxiety, or whatever else, it didn’t matter what their reasoning behind ganging up on the lead physicist was. Despite their unfounded animosities, it was Capa’s stellar bomb that would reignite the Sun and save humanity from extinction. Even though tensions were understandably high, Capa was the only person aboard the Icarus II who knew the gravity and the importance of the mission they were tasked with carrying out. In other words, he was the only one who knew how to operate the device to perform such a miracle. It was really no surprise to anyone that they put Capa in charge of the payload; he understood the mission better than anyone else on the ship, and it showed. Mace and Harvey began to back off once it finally began to sink in that their lives depended on Capa, and because of that, they should take it easy on him. Try to, at least.

Of all the other astronauts on the Icarus II, Capa felt the closest to Y/L/N, the second physicist, a young woman wise beyond her years who was assigned to work alongside Capa. She was a bit younger than him and the rest of the crew, but she proved to have a level-headed way of looking at things, while also presenting herself with an air of cautious optimism. Her grace and appreciation of everything each of the members were doing drew Capa to her, something that initially made him nervous. She captivated him in a mysterious but welcome way, and she was nowhere near immune to his unique allure and quiet charm.

She would watch him in awe as he spoke, completely entranced by his intelligence. Every word he said, every move he made…she felt it in her heart, and deep in her core. After watching her perform her duties effortlessly without ever faltering once, Capa began to feel at ease with her, and he caught himself quietly thanking the forces that be for pairing the two of them together.

It took a lot of effort on his part to keep his composure around her, and little did he know, it was just as difficult for her to behave herself around him. He knew he was falling for her, and he tried to keep it down as long as he possibly could, just in case his feelings for her weren’t reciprocated. Even though she did feel the same way about him, she made a valiant effort to stay focused on the tasks at hand, despite the ever-looming temptation.

She and Capa grew close after spending hours alone working out equations or going over calculations, and even just spending whatever free time they had talking about anything and everything, but nothing too wild or personal just yet. After one particularly restless night, she left her quarters and came out to the common area to find Capa at the table, his head in his hands. He noticed her and lifted his face to look at her, a faint smile escaping his lips.

“Oh, hey. I take it you couldn’t sleep either?” Capa asked her, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes as he shifted in his seat. She looked absolutely beautiful to him, still in her sleep clothes that fit her perfectly, the fabric slightly revealing but leaving just enough to the imagination, her hair down and slightly tousled. His gaze accidentally drifted to her thighs and hips, and he looked away suddenly, focusing back on her face. Capa was trying hard to keep his cool as she stood in front of him, fighting back thoughts of how much better those clothes would look on his bedroom floor. He struggled to push the thought away, and was internally failing miserably at it.

She also felt an all-too-familiar feeling between her legs seeing Capa sitting there in his gray tank top shirt, his hair falling on his shoulders in the sexiest way possible. She couldn’t help but notice his well-defined arms, and traced the path of his veins with her eyes. She tried not to stare at him, and swallowed before she answered. “Yeah, unfortunately. A lot to do, a lot to think about, you know?” she answered back as she walked over to the table to sit down next to him. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a while?”

He motioned for her to sit down, welcoming her. “Oh no, not at all, the company would be nice. And yes, you’re right, there’s tons to think about for sure.” He sat up straighter and turned to face her better as he cleared his throat quietly, still fighting with his wandering mind.

She let out a small breath of relief before she sat down. She turned toward him and continued to speak. “What’s on your mind?” she asked. Even though she was concerned and was aware he was under an insane amount of pressure, she knew Capa had everything under control, and she trusted his judgment completely. “We can talk about it if you’d like.”

He takes a deep breath before answering her. “I guess it’s just nerves. You and I have run the calculations countless times now, and we’re on the correct path with everything, the payload is operational and all that…but I’m still a bit anxious about it. It’s nothing crazy, but, you know…” his voice trails off before looking into her eyes. “I just hope everything goes to plan, that’s all. I don’t think we have any reason to think it won’t, but still.”

She looked back at Capa. “Oh believe me, I totally understand.” She moves closer to him in an attempt to reassure him as she rests her hand on his. “But hey, I have faith that we can get it done and all will be well with the universe.” She smiled. “You’re doing amazing, by the way.”

Capa began to blush as he smiled back, softly but warmly. “Aww, thanks. Just doing my job.” He turned his hand over under hers, holding it gently as their fingers tangled together. “You’re doing great, too. We’re so lucky to have you with us…with me.” His heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t believe he said that out loud, but he didn’t bother trying to go back on it either. “I know I am.” His ocean blue eyes looked at her face, searching for any sign of discomfort or apprehension. He was relieved to find neither in her expression, just her smiling and blushing back at him.

She felt his words deep inside her as if a bomb on a much smaller scale was going off within her chest, and his words almost didn’t register with her right away. She smiled and blushed deeply before continuing. “That’s very sweet of you to say…thank you,” she answered. Despite the fact that they have spent a lot of time alone together in recent weeks, the tension in the room was noticeably thicker…so thick that you could slice it in the air with a scalpel. “I try my best. It’s all I can do, really.” She held onto his hand a little tighter as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

Capa broke the brief silence. “Hey…” he began, speaking warily but keeping his smile. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I’ve been waiting for the right time, and I’m not quite sure when that would be or would have been…I hope you won’t take it the wrong way.”

She looked back at Capa, curious but cautious. “Sure, you can ask me anything. What’s up?” He returned the gentle squeeze of her hand and softly grazed his thumb over her knuckles.

Capa took a deep breath, and looked away from her for a split second before directing his focus right back on her. He could feel his face getting warmer, his fair-skinned face turning a faint pink. He hesitated for a beat before throwing caution to the wind to speak his mind.

“Well…you know how we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately? Not just on protocol and calculations and whatever else…but in general?” He continued to hold her gaze while he waited for her response.

“Yeah, of course. Why?” she asked as she looked at him, still smiling and holding his hand, butterflies forming in her stomach. “Is everything okay?” she asked, trying to gauge where the conversation is going without assuming anything or jumping to any conclusions.

“Oh yeah, everything is fine, all things considered. Amazing, actually…” He swallowed quietly before beginning again. “Um…I guess what I’m trying to say is…I feel closer to you than anyone else on the ship…” He paused and chuckled nervously before he continued to speak. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt such a connection to someone. You understand me in a way that everyone else doesn’t, and I really appreciate that. A lot.” He smiled and blushed deeper.

She smiled and blushed deeper as well. “I’m glad I can make you feel that way.” She moved closer to him. “I feel the same way about you.”

He reached his free hand up to gently brush some of her hair out of her face, softly caressing her cheek as he did it. “You’re just…I don’t know what the right word is. Exhilarating? Refreshing, maybe? I guess what I mean to say is…” he trailed off before cupping the side of her face with his hand while holding onto her hand with the other. “I’m falling for you. I mean…I have fallen for you. You’re on my mind constantly.” He gazed at her for a beat before continuing his thought. “I hope that doesn’t make anything weird or awkward.” He searched your face again for any opposition. Yet again, he didn’t find any of either.

Capa wasn’t one to divulge his deepest, darkest secrets to anyone, but it took every ounce of his being not to tell her that he’s seen her face behind his eyelids almost every night for the past two or so months, her name in his throat every time his need for her took over. He let it spill all over himself when he couldn’t sleep, which was unfortunately often. She wasn’t going to tell him that she touched herself to the thought of him any time the mood struck her either, soaking her fingers and her sheets beneath her. The two of them, separated only by a thin wall, had been breathing each other’s names as they reached completion for quite some time, and neither of them had shared any feelings for each other until today. As luck would have it, their feelings were mutual.

She leaned into his hand as she looked back at him. “It’s not weird, I promise…I’ve fallen for you too. I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t.” She gazed at him, full of love and infatuation. “You’re all I think about.”

Capa looked back at her with the same intensity. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he replied. He leaned in closer to her still, less than a foot of space between them. “What I really wanted to ask is…” he trailed off as he caressed her cheek and jawline. “I know this isn’t ideal, and I’m sorry about that…but I want this mission to continue with no regrets. I would hate myself forever if I never told you how I really feel about you. With that being said…would you be okay with us seeing where this goes?” His eyes never left hers as he confessed his love for her. “I want to be with you…if you’ll have me. Now, and, God willing, after the mission, too.”

Her heart pounded in her chest as she heard his words. “Of course I will. I want to be with you, too. I want nothing more than to be with you.”

Capa smiled and let out a sigh of relief before he spoke again. “Thank you…really. You mean everything to me, and I want you to know that…I’ll never let you forget it.” He closed any remaining distance between the two of them. He caressed her face tenderly once more. “May I…?”

She smiled at him with admiration and anticipation. “Yes, you may.”

Capa closed his eyes, leaned in, and kissed her gingerly at first, her eyes fluttering shut. She tilted her head as she kissed him back. Their kiss grew more and more passionate as seconds passed. He held her head gently and he ran his fingers through her hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck, their tongues dancing together softly. Capa slowly broke the kiss and opened his eyes. She opened hers as they pulled away, their pupils blown out with love and desire. He wrapped his arms around her as she pulled him into a tight hug, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long…” he breathed into her hair as he rubbed his hands on her back, inhaling her sweet scent. “Thank you…I mean it.” Capa blushed some more as he took another deep breath. “God, you make me feel like I’m a teenager again.”

“Me too…you’re absolutely lovely,” she replied, hugging him tighter. “You’re the man I’ve always dreamed of.” She broke the hug before looking into his icy blue eyes again. “Does this mean we’re together?” she asked, blushing and smiling.

Capa smiled back at her. “It does…is that okay with you?” He brushed some of her hair over her shoulder before caressing her face again.

“That is more than okay with me,” she answered. “So, what now?”

Capa blushed deeper as he smiled. “Come here…” He stood up from the table and held his hand out for her to take. She accepted his hand and stood up as he put his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his plush lips met hers again, kissing her with more intensity and urgency than he had before. She matched his passion as she returned his kiss, tangling her fingers in his long, dark, soft hair.

Noticing her need for him in her movements, Capa moved his kisses from her lips to her chin and jawline, then down along her neck and collarbone, immediately appreciating her reaction as she moaned quietly, tugging on his gray sleeveless shirt. She mused to herself about how effortlessly gorgeous he looked in it again, biting her lip at the thought, instantly reminded of all those nights she fantasized about taking it off of him. Lost in lustful longing, she struggled to get the words out.

“How did you know that I…maybe…we should probably…go somewhere else…” she whispered in between heavy breaths and soft whimpers. “Someone might wonder…what if someone wakes up and…” This is the first time he’d ever kissed her, and he already figured out one of the things that drives her crazy, knocking the air out of her lungs without trying to.

Capa chuckled slyly as he softly shushed her before he agreed. “A wild guess? But yeah…good call.” He gently pulled her with him towards his small bedroom. “We’ll deal with everyone else later. You’re all that matters to me right now.” He opened his door and let her in before shutting it behind him and locking the two of them inside. He looked at her with concern. “Are you okay with this? We don’t have to…you know…if you don’t want to…” His voice was low and seductive as he moved his hands under her shirt, tracing the curve of her spine and her shoulder blades with his fingers.

She spoke as he trailed off. “Yes, I want to…I want you. I’m sure about this. Are you?” she answered, looking back at him lovingly.

“As sure as I’m alive,” Capa answered, smiling back at her with just as much love. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.” He kissed her some more before gently pushing her backwards onto his bed and positioned himself between her spread legs as he laid her down.

They spent the rest of the night making love to each other, over and over, drawing out every single moment to make it last as long as possible, and after at least a few hours, they wore each other out completely. Their first entanglement started out slow and sensual until their hunger for each other consumed them. They tried their absolute hardest to keep the noise to a minimum, but that became increasingly difficult for the both of them as their makeout heated up and clothes started to fall away.

Capa was gentle with her for their first time having sex, leaving no part of her untouched or unkissed, committing every inch of her skin to memory as if it was their last night alive. As far as he was aware, the woman underneath him was nothing short of a goddess. She gladly returned the favor, marveling at his incredible beauty. She was completely amazed at how he looked as if he was carved from stone, his whole body breathtakingly perfect to her. As far as they were concerned, it very well could have been their final night together. Neither of them were worried about that now, focusing solely on each other.

She was tight like a vice and sopping wet around him, and he stretched her so deliciously that he would whisper his praises in her ear, encouraging her. Capa made it a habit to cover her mouth as he took her, something she learned to absolutely lose her mind over. If he wasn’t covering her mouth as he brought her to climax, he would make sure to devour her with hot kisses as she contracted around him, bringing his orgasm forth soon after. As much as he would have loved for her to be as loud as she possibly could, Capa found it incredibly sexy and oddly endearing when she struggled to stay quiet under him, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as he poured himself into her.

She was able to rile Capa up in all the best ways possible as well, and he too had some difficulty trying to keep his voice down. One round turned into two, and then three…and on and on until both of them were sore and exhausted. Once they were able to catch their breath, Capa would make sure he didn’t wreck her too much, and if he did, he’d kiss it all away, and she would follow suit. “I love you” were three little words that neither of them could ever get sick of saying or hearing from the other.

After all of their daily tasks were taken care of for the day, every night on the Icarus II thereafter was spent in each other’s arms, whether in Capa’s bed or hers. On nights when they weren’t ravishing each other half to death with reckless abandon, she and Capa would lay in bed together and talk about whatever came to mind until they fell asleep tangled up in each other. She and Capa were able to keep their new relationship a secret for about a week maximum before the crew found out on their own. They were delighted to discover that none of the rest of the crew were surprised that they ended up together. There was initially some concern, but ultimately the crew accepted it and let it continue, because they knew that these moments the crew had together could be the last they have with anyone, so who cares if two of the crew members fell in love?

Mace ribbed Capa about his enthusiastic nightly activities with Y/L/N, and it was nice that he wasn’t fighting with him for once. It was hard for him to believe that Capa, the usually soft-spoken physicist, had that effect on Y/L/N. He even mentioned to Cassie that he has never seen Capa smile as much as he did now, and Cassie added that Y/L/N had a glow about her. For someone as quiet and reserved as Capa, Mace found it amusing that his new girlfriend could bring him out of his shell like that, and although he would never admit it, he was glad that it was Y/L/N.

Capa was bashful about discussing his relationship with Y/L/N to the others, shying away from the sexual aspect, but he had no issue praising her and giving her credit when it was due. It was obvious that he was absolutely head over heels for Y/L/N, and she blushed anytime the crew teased her or tried to get her to reveal any juicy details about their rendezvous behind closed cabin doors. They were in love, and it brought a new positive energy to the rest of the mission. Kaneda was thankful that everyone seemed to be getting along better and in good spirits, while Trey and Harvey were indifferent towards the two physicists becoming a couple, but thrilled for them nonetheless.

Searle, being a doctor, wasn’t really concerned with it, but was also excited for them. He pretended not to notice the love marks Capa bit into Y/L/N’s neck or the faint scratches she had left on Capa’s shoulders, and especially tried to ignore the way Y/L/N would squirm slightly when she sat down. Corazon, happily content that a relationship so strong could come from something so hellish, reminded everyone that they had a surplus of oxygen coming from the garden due to overgrowth. The crew would still have more than enough oxygen to go around, whether Capa and Y/L/N were “fucking like rabbits” or not, as Mace put it.

After a few weeks of calculations, trajectory adjustments, and protocols during the day and exploring each other and falling in love more and more at night, Capa led the rest of the crew to carry out the mission successfully. Capa made sure everything was done exactly to plan, and he didn’t do anything without his girl by his side, from the ignition of the bomb all the way through the terrifying trek back to Earth.

It didn’t matter how many times the crew had practiced and prepared for the descent back to solid ground, the airsickness still hit Y/L/N the hardest. It was the part of being an astronaut she hated the most, and she never quite got used to it. Capa was well aware of this having seen her go through it during their zero-gravity training, and he felt bad that it was hard on her. He was one of the lucky ones who could handle it well; the worst of it for him was a slight change in equilibrium that left him briefly lightheaded. But now he took care of her lovingly, holding her hair out of the way and rubbing her back as the nausea won the battle against her, never leaving her side until he knew she was okay.

She was embarrassed about it as it was happening, not wanting anyone to see her so violently ill, but was eventually able to joke about it once the sick, spinning feeling dissipated. All of that initial anxiety melted away knowing her boyfriend was right there beside her, making sure she felt well enough before taking care of any other necessary tasks. He reassured her that a lot of people are really sensitive to it, and that it’s nothing to be ashamed of. In an attempt to make light of the situation, Capa reminded her that the reduced-gravity aircraft they used during their weightlessness training was called the “Vomit Comet” for a reason.

As the Icarus II landed, the crew was met with a massive crowd of people cheering them on, congratulating them on their historic achievement, while also mourning the deaths of the previous Icarus crew. Once everyone was back to their normal selves, or as close to it as possible, Cassie, Mace, Corazon, Trey, Searle, Harvey, and Kaneda all went back to their homes in various places around the world.

Meanwhile, Capa and Y/L/N settled down somewhere in the halfway point between their hometowns, close enough to Capa’s sister and her kids in one direction, and Y/L/N’s family in the other. They had found themselves a nice house outside of the city, and the two built their own small planetarium in their backyard together. Their two-story home was modest but just enough for them; not too small, but not too big either. It was there that they stayed happily for the next couple of years.

______________________________________________________________

It was a warm April day, but to Capa, it wasn’t just any typical day. Today was special.

The solar eclipse was happening today. He hadn’t seen an eclipse on Earth in many years. He has seen a few eclipses from the vantage point of the Icarus II in space, but it’s been a long time since he’s experienced one from the ground, and it just so happened that the path of totality was going right over his house he shared with his girlfriend, Y/L/N.

Of course, being a physicist and an astronaut, he knew the date and time of when the Moon was supposed to pass in front of the Sun ahead of time -- months, maybe years in advance -- and he knew he wanted to experience it with the love of his life. Even more than that, he wanted to make the experience as beautiful and as romantic as he possibly could. It was because of the couple and the rest of the Icarus II crew that they were able to view such a remarkable thing from Earth after all.

While Y/L/N was away for a few hours finishing a few last-minute errands, Capa was busy in their backyard in the midday spring air, setting up a massive telescope and a camera. Next to his setup, he spread out a large blanket on the grass, and on it he set a bottle of wine and two glasses. As he was getting the angle of the telescope just right and setting the time lapse to the correct adjustments on the camera, he thought he heard Y/L/N’s car pull into their driveway. As she got out of the car, she looked around for him, but didn’t see him right away.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” she called out. She waited a second before calling out for him again. “Robert? Honey?”

“I’m in the backyard, baby,” he called back to her. “I’ll be right there.” Capa walked over to her to help her carry the bags into the house. He helped her put the groceries away in the kitchen, and once everything had been taken in and put away, he pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her deeply, leaving her breathless. She kissed him back, returning his intensity as she held onto his shoulders. She wobbled a little, but Capa held onto her tight, not letting her fall. He gently broke the kiss, his arms still around her.

“Welcome home, sunshine,” Capa said, his eyes full of love. “I was getting nervous for a second there.”

A little dizzy from his kiss, she giggled before answering. “I’m sorry, sweetheart…traffic was backed up, but I made it.” She kissed him again as she hugged him. “How much time do we have until everything goes dark?”

Capa returned the kiss, gently running his hands up and down her back. “We have about half an hour or so before we can see anything happen.” He smiled at her as he played with her hair lovingly. “Might as well head outside so we don’t miss anything cool…what do you think, angel?”

She blushed as she leaned into his touch. “Sure, hun. Let’s go.” She took his hand as he led her outside to their backyard. He helped her sit down on the blanket he put out for them before sitting down next to her. Her eyes widened at the romantic scene he had created for the two of them, the telescope and the camera, as well as the bottle of wine and glasses, and the string lights he attached to the sides of their little planetarium.

He opened the bottle and poured the wine into a glass and handed it to her, before doing the same for himself. “Here you go, my love,” he said as he handed the glass to her.

She gently took the glass from him and smiled. “Thank you, sweetheart.” They tapped their glasses together before they each took a sip. “God, baby, this is really beautiful,” she said, her voice wavering slightly as she rested her head on his shoulder.

He kissed her forehead tenderly. “Not nearly as beautiful as you are,” he said as he smiled back, wrapping his arm around her. “I love you so much. Forever and always.” he said as he planted another small kiss on the top of her head.

“I love you too. So much. With my whole heart.” she replied, nuzzling up closer to him.

Capa leaned over to kiss her on the lips one more time. “Shouldn’t be too much longer…it’s getting kinda dark, and it’s quiet all of a sudden.” He moved slightly to look through the telescope lens. “We’re really close now, I think.” He pulled away and moved the lens towards her. “Here, look at this…it reminds me of all those eclipses you and I used to watch together on the ship, just smaller and farther away.”

She looked through the lens and smiled. “I’ll never get tired of looking at things like this,” she said as the sky started to dim. “It’s always so breathtaking to see.”

While she was distracted by looking at the interstellar image in the eyepiece of the telescope, he stood up and reached into his pocket to pull out an engagement ring with a sunstone gem encrusted in the center, and hid it inside his hand. The sky was getting darker still, and the Moon was almost completely covering the Sun.

“Y/F/N?” he asked as he stood in front of her.

She pulled away from the telescope, and Capa helped her to her feet with his free hand. “Yes, Robert?” she asked as the Moon moved closer to blocking the Sun. “What is it?” The sky turned pitch black except for the light coming from the Sun beginning to hide behind the Moon.

He swallowed as he chose his words carefully. “You mean the world to me, Y/F/N. You are my world. Being with you has made me the happiest man on Earth.” He slowly dropped down to one knee in front of her, causing her to gasp as he took her left hand in both of his. “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life right here with you. Will you marry me?” he asked gently and lovingly as tears started to form in his eyes.

She trembled and started to cry tears of joy. “Oh my God…yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

Tears started to fall down his cheeks as he slipped the ring onto her finger. He stood back up and took her into his arms and kissed her deeply. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, his tears mixing with hers. Overhead, the Sun appeared as a white circle in the sky, while the string lights glimmered behind them in the darkness caused by the eclipse.

“I love you, sunshine. More than anything else in the universe.” Capa said as he gently wiped away the tears from her face. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. As they held each other, the sky began to brighten back up. He pulled away from the hug to kiss her deeply again. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. So much. More than words can ever say.” she replied, kissing away his tears. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

Capa blushed. “And I can’t wait to be your husband.” He kissed her back, holding her tightly in silence for a bit before speaking again. “So how was that? Pretty awesome, huh?”

She giggled and blushed. “Everything was amazing! Absolutely beautiful! I’m the luckiest woman on the planet to have you.” She kissed his cheek as she held him close.

Capa smiled and blushed as well. “Good, I’m glad. And I’m the luckiest man on the planet to have you, too.” He kissed her back with a little bit more passion than before. “I was thinking…”

She kissed him back, matching his intensity. “Oh? Thinking about what?” she asked, looking into his beautiful cobalt blue eyes.

“I was thinking that maybe we can go to bed early tonight…you know, to celebrate,” he said with an air of seduction in his voice. “And we don’t have anything going on tomorrow…” He kissed her again, this time biting her bottom lip softly and tugging on it with his teeth before letting it go, eliciting a small moan from her.

She kissed him back, feeling a wet warmth pool between her thighs as he ran his hands up and down her body. She moaned breathlessly before speaking. “Yeah? And how should we do that?”

Capa smiled wickedly as he began to kiss her jawline and collarbone before leaving a lingering kiss where her neck meets her shoulder. “Well, I could start there…”

She moaned a little louder. “My God…you know what happens when you do that…” she breathed as he continued to tease her.

Capa laughed slyly. “Believe me, I’m well aware of what happens, and I’ll never get sick of it. What do you say we go upstairs…” he trailed off before kissing her neck again, his teeth lightly scraping against her collarbone. “I’ve spent enough time exploring the sky when I’d much rather spend all night exploring my future wife,” he murmured, his lips against hers. “And every night after that.”

She swooned at his words, feeling weak at the knees in his arms. “Anything you say, baby,” she whispered. “I’m all yours. Forever.”

“Forever with you sounds pretty fantastic to me,” he said, full of desire for her. Wasting no time at all, Capa took her by the hand and led her into the house. “I’ll be right back, babe. I’ll meet you in the bedroom in a minute,” he said, his voice dripping with lustful need. She didn’t need him to tell her twice as she started up the stairs, but not before he playfully swatted her on the ass on her way up, making her giggle. He practically ran out to bring everything they had left outside into the house as fast as he could, shutting the door behind him with a soft slam when he came back in. He threw the blanket on a chair, leaned the telescope against the wall, set the camera down next to it, and brought the bottle of wine and the two glasses upstairs with him. He entered their bedroom and put everything in his hands on the nightstand.

Capa saw his now-fiancée sitting on the edge of their bed, eagerly waiting for him. “Took you long enough,” she teased him as she bit her lip looking at him. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever come back.” Her voice was sultry as she shifted on their mattress.

Blushing, Capa rolled his eyes in mock annoyance as he smiled, and teased her right back. “I was gone maybe two seconds max…you want me that bad already, huh?” She nodded as he took her into his arms again, kissing her deeply as he pulled her closer. Kneeling on the mattress in front of him as he stood at the edge of the bed, she returned his kisses as she lifted his shirt up and over his head before tossing it to the floor. “Good, because I need to have you right now,” he said, his excitement becoming nearly painful. Capa then started to undo the buttons of her shirt, fumbling with them slightly before giving in. He ripped it clear off of her shoulders, sending buttons flying in all directions, causing her to gasp and giggle in delight. He dragged her ruined shirt off of her shoulders and threw it behind him as he pulled one of the straps of her bra down to kiss her collarbone.

“You asked for it, love…I told you, you know what happens when you kiss me and bite me like that.” She kissed him again as she started to unbuckle his belt. “I think you know by now I can’t behave when you torture me.” She shot him a sexy wink before kissing him again. His breath caught in his throat as she tore his belt from around his hips and threw it to the floor to join his shirt.

“Torture, huh? Are you sure? Because something tells me you enjoy it. Quite a lot.” His voice had a sensual danger about it, and it thrilled her. He held her chin with his forefinger and thumb before dropping his voice to a velvety whisper. “And yes, I know exactly what happens. I want to see how much you can take. I also happen to know each and every thing that drives you wild.” He unhooked her bra with his free hand and took it off of her so slowly that she trembled. “See? Just like that.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you guys liked it, and if you did, I'd be happy to hear your thoughts and my requests are open! <3

[misswoozi]

Byul and Solar definitely have outdoor sex but specifically only on top of cars at night 🎮

I see your perfect MoonSun headcanon and I raise you: Solar and Moonbyul meet up to park someplace nice in the woods/park/beach to fuck when it's late and nobody's around. Moonbyul takes her motorcycle and Solar takes her car. They usually fuck IN the car but sometimes it's too nice out and they end up on the hood.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Hal Jordan: NSFW Alphabet 🟢⚪

⚣🟢⚪️ A/N → Welp, you guys wanted more Green Lantern content (and lowkey, I did to), so Merry Christmas! Honestly, I'm quite shocked at how much came out of this. But then again, Hal just has a way of getting to me...🫦welp...enjoy!

⚣🟢⚪️ Word Count → 12K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🟢⚪️

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

– Hal Jordan may swagger into the bedroom with the confidence of a man who’s saved the universe countless times, but his aftercare is where the duality of his character shines. Post-climax, he’s all about keeping the mood light, tossing out cocky remarks like, “Admit it, that was the best you’ve ever had, right? I mean, I did just blow your mind.” The grin on his face says he’s half-joking, but the glint in his eye says he’s fishing for confirmation. His ego loves knowing you’re thoroughly wrecked—and let’s face it, he probably did live up to the hype.

– But under the smug exterior lies a man who takes aftercare just as seriously as the main event. Hal knows how intense he can get during the act, with his relentless stamina and the sheer physicality he brings to every round. He doesn’t just leave you sprawled and dazed; he makes sure to check in, his large hands trailing softly over your skin as he murmurs, “Too sore? Need me to grab anything?” He’ll tease, of course—“Didn’t think you’d be able to keep up with me, but you did good.”—but it’s all part of his way of putting you at ease.

– Hal’s attentiveness extends to cleaning up the evidence of your activities, a task he approaches with the same confidence as everything else. Whether it’s a towel to wipe down your body or an exaggerated groan as he gets out of bed to find a spare blanket, Hal doesn’t let you lift a finger. He’ll even run a hand down your thigh as he tucks the covers around you, his lips quirking into a smirk as he whispers something entirely inappropriate, like, “Bet you’re still feeling me there, huh?” His playful arrogance is almost endearing—almost.

– The vulnerability he hides so well emerges in quieter moments. If you’re spent and too blissed out to move, Hal will gather you against his chest, still warm and slick from your shared efforts, and stroke your hair absentmindedly. He’s careful not to make a big deal of it—he doesn’t want you realizing how soft he can be—but his touch is deliberate, grounding you as you come back to earth from whatever peak he just sent you to. He might even whisper, voice husky, “You looked so good back there, you know. Couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

– But if you call him out for being sweet or overly attentive, the cocky mask slips back on in record time. “What? I’m just making sure my partner’s in one piece,” he’ll quip, though the pink dusting his cheeks betrays him. Still, it’s clear he relishes these moments just as much as the action itself, even if he hides it behind his usual bravado.

– Hal’s aftercare is as intense and satisfying as the main event: a perfect blend of teasing, tenderness, and the kind of care that only comes from someone who pays attention to every detail—even if he’d never admit it outright.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

– When it comes to Hal Jordan, there’s no denying that his favorite body part is... well, all of him. And honestly, can you blame him? Hal’s Green Lantern suit—skin-tight and sculpted perfectly to his frame—shows off every inch of his physique in painstaking detail, from the broad expanse of his chest to the sharp definition of his thighs. The suit is formed by his willpower, after all, and Hal has no intention of leaving anything to the imagination. He’s fully aware of how good he looks in it and takes every opportunity to remind others, whether it’s through a smirk or a playful, “Can’t help it if the uniform does all the work.”

– If pressed to choose, though, Hal would probably say his favorite parts are the ones people notice first: his arms, chest, and back. His arms are undeniably impressive—thick and corded with muscle, the result of years spent as a test pilot and Green Lantern. He loves how they look when he’s lifting or holding you, the subtle flex of his biceps drawing attention without even trying. “Bet you can’t keep your eyes off these, huh?” he might tease, flexing just enough to make you roll your eyes (and blush).

– His chest—a feature that somehow manages to look both approachable and commanding. It’s broad enough to provide comfort when you lean into him, yet strong enough to carry the weight of his responsibilities. And let’s be real: Hal definitely notices when your eyes linger there, even if he pretends not to. He’s the type to smirk and say something ridiculous, like, “Careful, I’m starting to think you’re just here for the view.”

– His back, though, is what really sets him apart. It’s not about sheer size but the way every movement highlights the smooth, lean strength he carries. Whether he’s flying, creating a construct with his ring, or throwing a playful glance over his shoulder, his back tells its own story. It’s graceful and functional, a reflection of the precision and control that define both his role as a Green Lantern and his daredevil tendencies. He relishes the way your hands linger there too and is especially smug about the fact that his back is just as enticing when it’s bare, a fact you’ve undoubtedly confirmed more than once.

– And while Hal would never openly talk about it, his manhood absolutely makes the list. Of course, he’s proud of that too—he’s Hal Jordan, after all—but he’d rather let his partner be the one to sing its praises (and trust him, he loves hearing those praises). Still, when it comes to the parts of him that draw attention first, it’s the show-stopping combination of arms, chest, and back that take the spotlight. After all, what’s the point of saving the universe if you can’t look damn good doing it?

– Now, as far as you and Hal’s favorite part(s) on you, it’s all about your hands. As a man who thrives on touch and connection, he’s completely enamored by the way your hands look on him. There’s something intoxicating about how they feel clasped in his during a quiet, intimate moment, or the way they roam over his arms, chest, or back when things heat up. He lives for that tactile worship, his ego swelling every time your fingers linger on his muscles, tracing the contours of his body like you’re mapping out uncharted territory. – And when he’s carrying you—whether it’s out of danger or into the bedroom—he’ll revel in how your hands instinctively cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders or trailing down his back.

– But here’s the thing: Hal isn’t just a sucker for your hands—he’s an unapologetic ass man through and through. It’s practically written into his DNA. That skin-tight Green Lantern suit of his? It’s not just for show. Every inch of him is pressed flush against you when he’s feeling bold, and he loves nothing more than sidling up behind you, his front teasingly snug against your back. His gloved hands will inevitably slide down to cup you, pulling you closer as he murmurs something utterly shameless into your ear, like, “This is my favorite view. Don’t you think the suit was made for moments like this?”

– Hal doesn’t just stop at appreciating the visual—oh no, he’s tactile to the core. He’s constantly finding excuses to touch, grab, and admire every curve. Whether it’s a teasing slap as you walk by or his hands firmly gripping your hips while he’s pressing you into a wall, Hal’s all about staking his claim. And let’s not forget the sheer amusement he gets when he’s grinding against you, letting you feel exactly how worked up he’s gotten just from the sway of your hips or the way your body fits against his. He’ll chuckle low in your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he says, “You know, it’s really not fair how good you look in that. What are you trying to do to me?”

– But it’s not just a physical thing for Hal—it’s the reactions he draws out of you that really get him going. He loves watching your body respond to his touch, the way your muscles tense or relax under his hands. And when you let out a breathy moan or arch into him? That’s game over. He’ll double down, his lips trailing across your neck as his hands roam freely, all while whispering praises and downright filthy promises of what’s to come.

– For Hal, your body is a playground, and he’s intent on exploring every inch of it. But there’s something about the way you fit so perfectly in his arms—how your body molds to his—that makes him wonder if his ring knew exactly what it was doing when it chose him. And if that thought doesn’t make you blush, well, his hands slipping lower as he asks, “Mind if I take another look?” certainly will.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

– When it comes to Hal Jordan, let’s just say he’s a shooter—and an impressive one at that. Hal’s release is intense, a reflection of the passion and energy he pours into everything he does. You’ll know exactly when he reaches his peak because it’s overwhelming, almost explosive. The first few shots hit with purpose, leaving no doubt that Hal’s body is working overtime to ensure you’re thoroughly marked. He’s not just a Green Lantern; he’s practically a human firework in bed, and trust him, he’s proud of it.

– As for volume? Oh, Hal’s got you covered—literally. One load from him is enough to leave you a sticky, heaving mess, dripping with evidence of just how thoroughly he’s claimed you. It’s not a small amount either; Hal’s stamina translates directly into how much he can produce, and let’s just say his reserves are far from empty. You might even tease him about how much there is, only for him to smirk and fire back, “What can I say? I’m thorough.”

– The potency of his seed is no joke either. Hal’s the kind of guy who doesn’t half-ass anything, and that includes what his body produces. It’s thick, warm, and unmistakably him—a perfect mix of his raw masculinity and the relentless willpower that fuels him. He’ll revel in the sight of you completely covered, running his fingers through the mess he’s made and murmuring something utterly filthy, like, “You wear me so well, you know that? Might have to keep you like this for a while.”

– If you prefer things a little cleaner, though, Hal’s just as happy taking things inside. He loves the idea of filling you to the brim, of leaving you so full that you feel him even after the moment’s passed. And when you shift or move afterward, feeling the evidence of him still lingering inside you? That’s enough to send him into another round. He’ll press a hand to your stomach, grinning devilishly as he whispers, “Still feel me, don’t you? Don’t worry—I’ve got more where that came from.”

– With Hal, it’s never just about the act itself—it’s about the aftermath too. He loves seeing the aftermath of his passion, whether it’s the mess he’s left on your skin or the way your body trembles in the afterglow. And if he has his way, he’ll make sure you’re carrying the memory of him long after the moment’s over, in every possible sense of the word.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

– Hal Jordan’s dirty little secret? He gets off on the thrill of being caught. As fearless as he is in the field, there’s something about pushing the boundaries of propriety in his personal life that really gets his heart racing—and other parts of him too. The idea of sneaking away with you during a high-stakes mission or ducking into a secluded corner of the Watchtower for a quick, forbidden rendezvous? That’s his personal kryptonite.

– What makes it scandalous is just how close he’s come to being discovered. Hal has a habit of taking risks, from pulling you onto his lap in the pilot’s seat of his fighter jet to whispering filthy promises into your ear when you’re supposed to be focused on a meeting. And while he’d never let anyone else catch a glimpse of what’s his, there’s something about the risk of Superman walking in mid-act or Batman figuring out what’s really going on in the supply closet that sends a jolt of adrenaline straight to his core. He’d laugh it off if anyone accused him—“Me? Do something like that? Nah, you’ve got the wrong guy.”—but the flushed ears and cocky grin would give him away.

– The most shocking part of all? Hal keeps a personal collection of mementos from his riskier encounters: a photo snapped in secret during an especially steamy moment in the cockpit, or a pair of boxers he swiped from you after one of your more passionate nights. – – – Tucked away in his locker or hidden in his apartment, these little trophies remind him of just how good it feels to have something no one else knows about—something only he and his partner share. If the League ever found out, Hal would play it cool, but deep down, the thought of being confronted about it would absolutely mortify him... in the most thrilling way possible.

– For Hal, it’s not just about breaking the rules—it’s about bending them just enough to keep things interesting. And if that means taking a few risks to satisfy his insatiable desire for you? Well, that’s just part of the fun.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

– Hal Jordan might be a cocky flirt, but don’t let the snarky remarks from his teammates fool you—when it comes to experience, he’s far from lacking. Sure, he might have heard a jab or two about his supposed performance (thanks, Diana), but Hal’s not the type to let those comments get to him. In fact, he thrives on proving people wrong. Beneath his overconfident exterior is a man who knows exactly what he’s doing—and takes great pride in leaving his partner breathless, satisfied, and craving more.

– Hal’s history of flings and encounters isn’t just about notches on the bedpost; it’s been a training ground for him to perfect his craft. He knows how to read your body like it’s a flight manual, mapping out every sensitive spot and memorizing exactly how to bring you to your knees. His touch is electric, like the constructs he wields, and he’s not afraid to get creative—pinning your wrists above your head with one hand while his other works its magic, his mouth leaving a trail of heat down your neck. Hal is a man who studies his partner, and by the time he’s done with you, he’ll have your every moan, gasp, and shiver committed to memory.

– And let’s be real—Hal is absolutely the type to let his mouth run before the action even starts. He’ll tease you relentlessly, his voice dropping to a low, seductive drawl as he leans in close, murmuring things like, “You sure you’re ready for this? I don’t do anything halfway, sweetheart.” It’s not just a promise; it’s a warning. Because once Hal gets started, there’s no stopping him until you’re trembling, spent, and begging him for mercy.

– His rhythm is as smooth as his piloting skills—precise, confident, and utterly relentless. Hal knows how to pace himself, starting slow to build anticipation before ramping up into a rhythm that leaves you seeing stars. And when he hears you lose control? That’s the moment he turns it up even more, using his strength and stamina to push you further than you thought possible. Hal doesn’t just take you to the edge—he shoves you over it, holding you steady as your body writhes beneath him.

– But the real kicker? Hal gets off on the aftermath just as much as the main event. He loves seeing you absolutely wrecked, skin flushed, legs shaking, and lips swollen from his kisses. He’ll grin down at you, smug and satisfied, as he brushes his thumb across your jaw and murmurs, “Told you I was good. Don’t worry—I’ve got plenty more where that came from.” And he means it. Hal’s stamina isn’t just impressive—it’s almost unfair. One round is never enough for him; he’s determined to make sure you’re as thoroughly claimed as possible, inside and out.

– For Hal Jordan, sex is an art form, and he’s a master of his craft. He doesn’t just want to satisfy you—he wants to ruin you for anyone else. And judging by the way you’ll still feel him long after he’s done, there’s no doubt he succeeds every time.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

– For Hal Jordan, sex isn’t just about intimacy—it’s a performance, a chance to show off exactly what he can do, and trust him, he’s got the moves to back up his bravado. Hal thrives in positions where he’s in control, his strength and endurance on full display, and where he can quite literally see the effect he’s having on you. Here are his absolute favorites:

1) Standing Carry: Hal loves nothing more than showing off his strength by picking you up and taking you wherever he pleases. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he holds you effortlessly, one hand supporting your back while the other grips your ass firmly, pulling you flush against him. He loves how you gasp when he moves with purpose, his hips slamming into yours as he presses you against a wall—or, if you’re really lucky, carries you straight to the bed without ever breaking rhythm. His smug grin is practically glued to his face as he growls, “See? Told you I’d take care of you. You just sit back and let me handle everything.”

2) Plank Position: Hal has an almost stubborn need to prove his stamina, and this position is all about endurance. With you lying beneath him, your legs wrapped around his hips, Hal supports himself on his forearms or hands, driving into you with a controlled, steady rhythm. He loves the full view of your face, watching every reaction as he angles himself just right to pull moans and gasps from your lips. Bonus points? The way his body flexes above you, his arms and chest on full display as he leans down to murmur dirty praises in your ear, “You feel that? Only I can make you like this.”

3) Missionary (With Legs Over His Shoulders): Hal’s favorite twist on the classic. With your legs draped over his broad shoulders, he gets deeper than ever, watching with smug satisfaction as you arch and cry out beneath him. He thrives on the intimacy of it, how close he can get to your face to see the full effect of his thrusts. And if you grip his biceps or claw at his back? That’s just icing on the cake. He’s not shy about reminding you how good he’s making you feel, whispering things like, “No one else can fuck you like this, can they?” as he picks up the pace to leave you breathless.

4) Standing From Behind: Hal is all about leverage and control, and this position lets him put both on display. With you bent over in front of him—whether it’s against a table, a bed, or even the nearest wall—Hal takes full advantage of the angle to hit all the right spots. His hands grip your hips firmly, pulling you back against him with every thrust, while he murmurs filthy things like, “You feel that, don’t you? Tell me how good it feels, baby.” He’s absolutely the type to catch sight of himself in a mirror mid-act and smirk at the view—because let’s face it, the sight of him owning you so thoroughly is just too good to resist.

5) Seated Position: This is Hal’s go-to when he’s in the mood for something slower but no less intense. Sitting back in a chair—or more likely, the cockpit of a jet—he pulls you into his lap, letting you ride him while his hands roam freely across your body. He loves the control this position gives you while he leans back to enjoy the view, guiding your movements with firm hands on your waist or thighs. And if you falter, he’s quick to take over, thrusting up into you with a wicked grin as he mutters, “Come on, sweetheart. I know you’ve got more in you than that.”

– For Hal, it’s not just about the position itself—it’s about how much effort he can pour into it, how much he can make you feel. Whether it’s holding you up with ease, driving into you with relentless precision, or leaving you utterly wrecked in the aftermath, Hal’s favorite position is always the one that lets him prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that no one else can even come close.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

– Hal Jordan is the king of cracking a joke at the most inappropriate moments, and the bedroom is no exception. He thrives on keeping things lighthearted and fun, even in the filthiest of moments. Expect a cheeky comment like, “Careful, don’t get addicted,” when he’s going down on you, or a smirk and a playful, “That all you’ve got?” when you’re clawing at him for more.

– If something unexpected happens—like an awkward slip or an overly enthusiastic move—Hal doesn’t just roll with it; he makes it part of the fun. He’ll laugh, kiss you breathless, and say something ridiculous like, “Guess we’re trying out the blooper reel tonight.” But don’t let his humor fool you—Hal’s still relentless in his focus on making you come undone. He just thinks it’s more fun when you’re laughing and moaning at the same time.

– And if you ever try to match his banter mid-act? Oh, he’s all in. Hal loves a partner who can keep up with his sharp tongue, turning your playful remarks into fuel for his dirty, teasing retorts. But don’t be surprised when he shuts you up the fastest way he knows how—with his lips, his hands, or a deep, calculated thrust that leaves you too wrecked to respond. “That’s better,” he’ll say with a grin, “Guess I’m the funny one after all.”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

– Hal Jordan is the type of guy who keeps things just well-groomed enough to look effortlessly sexy without seeming like he’s trying too hard. His hair on top? Always a little tousled, like he just stepped out of a fighter jet or rolled out of bed (and let’s be honest, half the time it’s probably both). Thick, dark brown, and naturally wavy, it’s the kind of hair you want to run your fingers through—whether you’re pulling him closer during a heated kiss or grabbing a fistful while he’s buried between your legs.

– Now, when it comes to body hair, Hal keeps it natural but tidy. His chest and stomach are dusted with just the right amount of dark hair, enough to highlight his rugged masculinity without going full-on lumberjack. He doesn’t wax or shave it entirely, but he trims enough to keep things neat—because he knows you love running your hands over the ridges of his abs and feeling the soft, fine hair beneath your fingertips. And trust him, he loves it too, especially when your nails scrape over his skin just enough to leave marks.

– As for below the belt? Oh, Hal’s definitely a “clean it up but keep it real” kind of guy. The carpet absolutely matches the drapes—a deep brown that’s just as rich and inviting as the rest of him. He trims it down regularly, ensuring there’s no jungle to navigate, because Hal’s all about making things as inviting as possible. He’s the type to smirk and say something cheeky like, “You like what you see? Took me a whole five minutes to get it just right.” But the truth is, he puts in just enough effort to make sure you’re as comfortable and distracted as possible when you’re exploring down there.

– And while he might not admit it out loud, Hal secretly loves it when you pay attention to his hair—whether it’s tugging on the strands during an intense moment, raking your fingers down his chest, or pressing your lips to the soft trail leading below his waist. It’s those little touches that make him feel completely irresistible—and trust him, with Hal Jordan, that’s exactly how he wants you to feel.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

– Hal Jordan may come across as cocky and overconfident most of the time, but when it comes to intimacy, there’s a side of him that’s deeper, softer, and entirely devoted to making you feel like the only person in the universe. Sure, he starts things off with his trademark smirks and filthy teasing—murmuring things like, “You ready for me to blow your mind?”—but the moment things get serious, Hal pours every ounce of his focus into you. For him, intimacy is about connection, and he’s determined to make sure you feel every bit of his passion.

– Hal’s not afraid of getting close—really close. He’s the type to hold your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones as he kisses you deeply, making you forget the world outside. His eyes stay locked on yours whenever possible, dark with lust and affection as he whispers against your lips, “You’re so perfect like this, you know that?” And while his words are hot enough to melt you, his actions speak even louder. Every touch, every movement is deliberate, designed to pull you deeper into his orbit and remind you that in this moment, it’s just the two of you.

– He’s surprisingly patient too, despite his usual impulsive nature. Hal takes his time exploring every inch of you, memorizing the way your body responds to his touch. He’ll kiss a slow, tantalizing path down your neck, across your chest, and lower still, pausing to murmur against your skin, “I could spend all night right here, you know.” And if you shiver or moan in response? That’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going, to push you higher and higher until you’re completely undone.

– But Hal’s intimacy doesn’t stop at the physical. He’s just as intent on making you feel seen—like you’re the center of his world. He’ll whisper things that make your heart skip a beat, like how stunning you look beneath him or how he’s never felt this way with anyone else. And while he might throw in a cheeky comment here or there to keep things light, his softer side shines through in the way he holds you close, his hands roaming your body like he never wants to let go.

– When you’re completely spent, trembling and dazed from his relentless attention, Hal will wrap you up in his arms and press kisses to your forehead, your nose, your lips. He’ll murmur something cocky but sweet, like, “Told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? And I’m not done yet.” Because for Hal, intimacy isn’t just about the act—it’s about leaving you so overwhelmed with pleasure and love that you never question how much you mean to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

– Hal Jordan may radiate cocky, overconfident energy, but even he has his moments of pure, primal need—when there’s no one around to satisfy him, and his hand becomes his only option. And trust this: Hal doesn’t half-ass anything, not even when he’s jerking off. It’s a performance for one, and he makes sure it’s just as intense and satisfying as if you were there to help him out.

– When Hal gets in the mood, it’s usually quick and unplanned—a flash of a memory from a heated moment with you, the way your body felt against his, or the sound of your breathless moans replaying in his mind. He’ll grip himself firmly, his strokes starting slow as he leans back against whatever surface is closest—a couch, his bed, hell, even the cockpit of his jet if it’s been that kind of day. His teeth catch on his bottom lip as he imagines your touch instead of his own, and it doesn’t take long for him to get lost in the fantasy.

– Hal’s not quiet, either. He groans low and deep, his breath hitching every time his hand squeezes just right or his thumb grazes the sensitive head. He’s filthy, too, muttering your name under his breath along with fragments of the dirty things he wants to do to you. “Fuck, baby, you’d look so good on your knees for me… God, I can’t stop thinking about how you’d take me, begging for more—just like that.” His free hand trails down his abs or grips his thigh, needing something to hold onto as his pace picks up, faster and harder with every stroke.

– Hal’s fantasies are vivid, too, and they only fuel the intensity of his release. He imagines your mouth on him, your hands gripping his hips, or the way your body trembles beneath him as he takes you apart piece by piece. When he comes, it’s explosive—hot ropes of cum spilling over his fist and onto his stomach, his head tipping back as a guttural groan escapes his lips. He doesn’t stop immediately, either, riding out every wave of pleasure with slow, teasing strokes until he’s spent and panting.

– And afterward? Hal’s the type to chuckle to himself, wiping his hand on the nearest towel or his discarded shirt before muttering something cocky like, “Damn, you’ve got me wrecked, and you’re not even here.” But deep down, it only makes him crave the real thing more—because as satisfying as it is to take care of himself, nothing compares to having you there to help him finish the job.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

– Hal Jordan isn’t just adventurous in the skies—his tastes in the bedroom are just as daring and varied. He’s got a few kinks that keep things interesting, and he’s more than happy to indulge them with the same cocky, confident energy that makes him irresistible. Here are five of his favorites:

1) Dominance and Power Play: Hal lives to be in control, and nothing gets him off more than seeing you submit completely to him. He loves the way you melt under his touch, letting him take the reins as he orders you exactly how to move, what to do, and when to let go. His commands are firm but laced with filthy praise, like, “That’s it, baby. Keep those legs spread just like that for me—don’t move unless I tell you to.” And when you follow his lead perfectly? Oh, he rewards you in the best ways possible, leaving you shaking and begging for more.

2) Worship and Praise Kink: Hal’s ego is as big as the universe, and he loves it when you make him feel like a god. Whether it’s kissing and licking your way down his chest, whispering how amazing he feels inside you, or simply moaning his name like a prayer, he thrives on being the center of your attention. His favorite? When you’re on your knees, eyes full of need as you take him into your mouth, only to hear him groan, “Fuck, you look so good like that. I could watch you worship me all night.”

3) Exhibitionism and Risky Encounters: Hal gets off on the thrill of being caught, and he’s not shy about suggesting public or semi-public escapades. Whether it’s pulling you into a closet on the Watchtower, sneaking a quickie in the cockpit of his jet, or taking you against the nearest wall at a party, he craves the adrenaline rush that comes with pushing boundaries. He’ll chuckle wickedly in your ear and say things like, “Think anyone can hear us? Let’s give them a show they won’t forget.” And the more you squirm, the harder it is for him to hold back.

4) Overstimulation and Edging: Hal loves to draw things out, teasing you until you’re a writhing mess beneath him. He takes his time, pushing you to the brink over and over again, only to pull back just before you fall apart. His hands, mouth, and even his Green Lantern ring become tools in his arsenal, all designed to make you beg for release. He’ll smirk down at you and say, “Come on, baby, you can take more. Let me see how far I can push you.” And when he finally lets you come? It’s so intense you’ll feel like you’re floating in zero gravity.

5) Marking and Claiming: Hal’s possessive streak comes out in the bedroom, and he loves leaving his mark on you—bruises from his grip on your hips, bite marks on your neck, or the feeling of him dripping out of you long after he’s finished. He’ll revel in the sight of you wearing his marks, leaning down to kiss them tenderly before growling, “Now everyone will know exactly who you belong to.” And when he’s filling you to the brim, his hands pressing against your stomach to feel just how deep he is? That’s when he’s completely in his element, making sure there’s no doubt in your mind—or anyone else’s—that you’re his.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

– For Hal Jordan, location isn’t just about where—it’s about how risky and how hot the situation can get. As a man who thrives on danger and excitement, he’s not content with keeping things confined to the bedroom. Hal’s favorite locations are as bold and daring as he is, each one chosen to satisfy his craving for adventure while pushing your limits in the most delicious ways.

1) The Cockpit: As a test pilot and Green Lantern, the cockpit is practically Hal’s second home—and he loves nothing more than breaking the rules in the very place that defines him. Whether it’s in a grounded jet during a late-night hangar visit or mid-air with the autopilot engaged, Hal gets a thrill out of having you straddle him in the pilot’s seat. His hands grip your hips as he whispers, “Bet you’ve never joined the mile-high club like this before.” And the thought of anyone catching you in the act only spurs him on, his thrusts matching the intensity of the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

2) The Watchtower (Semi-Public): There’s something undeniably thrilling about sneaking away with you aboard the Justice League’s headquarters, finding a secluded room or corner where you almost won’t be discovered. Hal loves pinning you against a wall, his body shielding yours as he murmurs into your ear, “Think Batman’s got cameras in here? Let’s give him something to watch.” The sheer audacity of it drives him wild, and he makes it a point to leave you trembling and breathless before you both return to the team meeting like nothing happened.

3) Against the Wall (Anywhere): Hal is a firm believer that walls were made for pushing you up against, and he doesn’t care where it happens—as long as he can have you. Whether it’s in a dark alley, the side of a building, or even a shower stall, Hal takes full advantage of the position. His hands grip your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he presses you against the cool surface, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. And if someone’s nearby? Even better. The risk of getting caught only makes him move harder, faster, whispering filthy things like, “Let them hear how good I’m making you feel.”

4) The Lantern Construct: Has no one ever even considered the perks of being a Green Lantern? Unlimited creativity with your constructs! Hal loves creating a glowing green bed, chair, or platform in the middle of nowhere—a floating masterpiece designed just for you. Whether it’s high above the city skyline or deep in a secluded forest, Hal revels in the freedom of taking you wherever and however he wants. His cocky grin says it all as he murmurs, “Only I could pull off something this good, right?” And when the glowing green light illuminates your body beneath him? That’s a memory Hal will never forget.

5) The Beach (Under the Stars): Hal may love risk, but he’s not against a little romance either. Late at night on a secluded beach, he’ll lay you down in the sand, the sound of waves crashing in the background as he makes love to you under the stars. His cocky attitude takes a backseat to his more tender side, though he still can’t resist murmuring things like, “Bet you’ve never had someone fuck you under the Milky Way before.” The mix of intimacy and raw passion is enough to leave you breathless, completely captivated by him.

– For Hal, location is all about adding excitement and variety to the experience. Whether it’s somewhere bold and risky or a place steeped in intimacy, he makes every moment unforgettable—just the way he likes it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

– Hal Jordan isn’t a hard man to arouse—his cocky confidence and thrill-seeking nature mean that just about any situation has the potential to set him off. But there are a few things in particular that really get him going, driving him to the brink of control as he works to take you apart piece by piece.

1) Challenge: For Hal Jordan, there’s nothing more arousing than a challenge—whether it’s your confidence daring him to step up, or his own insecurities lighting a fire under him to prove he’s the best. Hal thrives on the thrill of competition, and when he feels the need to silence his inner doubts, that sharp edge of desire takes over. He pours every ounce of his energy into you, determined to leave you utterly wrecked, your body trembling and your voice hoarse from screaming his name. It’s about staking his claim, making sure you know, without a doubt, that he’s unmatched. For Hal, the challenge isn’t just about winning—it’s about proving, again and again, that he’s the only one who could ever leave you begging for more.

2) Jealousy and Possessiveness: Piggybacking off that, naturally, this is something that also riles up the Green Lantern just as much. Hal is competitive by nature, and nothing stokes his fire quite like the thought of someone else eyeing what’s his. A passing comment, a lingering glance, or even a harmless laugh shared with someone else is enough to set his possessive streak ablaze. You’ll know he’s jealous when his touches become rougher, his kisses more demanding, and his voice drops to a growl as he pulls you closer, whispering things like, “You’re mine. Don’t forget it.” He won’t stop until you’re screaming his name, every moan and shiver a reminder of exactly who you belong to. Pinning you down, his voice will drop to a low growl as he thrusts into you relentlessly, whispering filthy promises like, “No one else could ever fuck you like this. Say it. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.” He doesn’t just want to hear it—he needs to, each word soothing the flicker of insecurity hidden beneath his cocky exterior. But it’s not just about jealousy—it’s about staking his claim, proving to you and himself that, without a doubt, he’s unmatched.

3) Clothing (or the Lack Thereof): Hal has a thing for how you wear—or don’t wear—your clothes, especially when your frame contrasts with his. Catch him off guard lounging in nothing but his Green Lantern shirt, the hem barely covering your hips, and he’ll be on you in seconds, his hands sliding beneath it as he growls, “You trying to kill me? This looks better on you than it ever did on me.” Or tease him with a snug outfit like a tailored suit or a good crop top paired with some short gym trousers that hugs all the right places, and he’ll spend the night failing to keep his hands to himself, his touch lingering on your back, waist, or hips as he mutters, “You know I can’t focus when you look like that.” But the real killer? Watching you undress, piece by piece, until he can’t take it anymore. He’ll pull you into his lap, his big hands gripping your hips possessively as he murmurs against your ear, “Keep going—I want to see everything. And don’t think for a second you’re getting away with teasing me like that.”

4) The Thrill of the Moment: Hal thrives on adrenaline, and it’s no different in the bedroom. The idea of sneaking away during a party, finding a secluded corner at the Watchtower, or even stealing a moment during a mission sets his blood on fire. He’ll push you up against the nearest surface, his lips on your neck as he growls, “We shouldn’t be doing this here... but damn, I can’t stop myself.” The rush of being somewhere you shouldn’t be, coupled with the risk of getting caught, makes everything ten times hotter for him.

5) Your Reactions: At the end of the day, Hal lives for your responses. The way your body arches into his touch, the sounds you make when he hits the right spot, or the way you moan his name when you can’t hold back anymore—those are the things that drive him wild. He’ll do anything to pull more reactions from you, murmuring things like, “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you—don’t hold back.” The louder and more desperate you get, the harder Hal goes, fueled by the knowledge that no one else can make you feel the way he does.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

– Hal Jordan might be open-minded and adventurous, but there are some hard limits he won’t cross. Anything involving cruelty or humiliation is a firm no for him—he’s here to build you up, not tear you down. He also draws the line at anything that takes away your ability to give enthusiastic consent; the thought of you not being fully into it kills the mood instantly—unless we’re talking a Yandere situation or even something like the scenario from “Love’s Punishment." And while he thrives on teasing and pushing boundaries, anything that genuinely hurts or scares you is off the table. “I want you to feel good, not afraid,” he’ll say, his voice soft but firm. At the end of the day, Hal’s all about mutual pleasure, trust, and making sure you’re as satisfied as he is.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

– Hal Jordan? Oh, he’s all in when it comes to oral—both giving and receiving. His cocky confidence extends to the bedroom (or wherever you’re lucky enough to find yourselves), and oral play is no exception. Hal knows exactly how good he looks when your lips are wrapped around him, and he’s not shy about telling you. His hands thread through your hair, his grip firm but never forceful, guiding you with murmured praise like, “That’s it, baby—fuck, you’re so good at this.” And the way his hips occasionally buck into your mouth? Pure reflex, a testament to how much you’ve got him unraveling.

– Hal lives for the visual: the sight of you on your knees, your smaller frame between his thighs, taking him inch by inch while his head tips back and a groan escapes his lips. The stretch of your mouth around him alone is enough to push him close to the edge, but he prides himself on his willpower. He’ll hold himself back as long as possible, savoring every flick of your tongue and the way your hands work in tandem, his breaths coming out in shallow gasps. But don’t mistake his stamina for disinterest—if you keep going long enough, the sight of you combined with the pressure building inside him will eventually win out. And when he comes? It’s hard and fast, his grip tightening as he spills into your mouth, his voice rough as he groans, “Fuck, just like that. Don’t stop—take all of it.”

– As much as Hal loves being on the receiving end, giving head—pole or hole but hole may be his preference—is where his competitive streak and ego really shine. He loves the idea of reducing you to a trembling mess, completely at his mercy as he takes his time exploring every sensitive spot. He starts slow, his tongue swirling and teasing, pulling you to the brink before backing off just to hear you beg. And when he finally decides to let loose? Hal is relentless, his lips, tongue, and fingers working in perfect sync to drag you over the edge. He thrives on the sound of your moans, the way your hands clutch at his hair, and the sight of your thighs trembling beneath him. “That’s it,” he growls, his voice muffled against your skin, “Give it to me. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

– Hal’s ego ensures he’s very skilled—he’s fully capable of bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm with just his mouth, and he takes immense pride in doing so. It’s not just about the end result for him; it’s about the journey, the control, and the satisfaction of knowing he’s the one who left you completely undone. Whether he’s giving or receiving, Hal makes oral play an unforgettable experience, one that leaves both of you gasping for more.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

– Hal Jordan’s pace depends entirely on his mood—and yours—but no matter the tempo, he’s all in. When he’s in the mood for something slow and sensual, Hal turns the experience into an art form. His movements are deliberate, calculated, and unbearably teasing, designed to make you feel every inch of him as he drags out your pleasure. He’ll keep his hips rolling in a steady rhythm, his body pressed flush against yours as he whispers, “You feel that? Every single stroke? Yeah, I’m not stopping until you’re begging for it.” He thrives on the way your body arches into him, his hands gripping your waist to keep you right where he wants you.

– But when passion overtakes him—or if you’ve been teasing him all day—Hal shifts into a much rougher, more relentless gear. His thrusts are deep, hard, and fast, each one landing with enough force to leave you gasping, your nails digging into his back or shoulders for support. He loves hearing you cry out his name, the sound driving him to push even harder as he growls, “Come on, baby. Take it. I know you can handle it.” Hal’s stamina means he can keep this up for as long as it takes to have you completely undone, leaving you trembling and breathless beneath him.

– What makes Hal so intoxicating is how easily he switches between the two. He’ll start slow, teasing you until you’re clawing at him to go faster, only to smirk and say, “Patience, sweetheart. We’ve got all night.” And then, just when you think you can’t take another second of the teasing, he picks up the pace, his body driving into yours with enough intensity to leave you seeing stars. Whether it’s slow and torturous or fast and punishing, Hal’s pace is always designed with one goal in mind: leaving you completely wrecked by the time he’s finished.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

– Hal Jordan lives for quickies. The thrill of sneaking in a fast, filthy session when you’re both supposed to be somewhere else? It’s practically tailor-made for him. Whether it’s dragging you into an empty room at the Watchtower, pinning you against a wall in a dimly lit alley, or pulling you into the cockpit of his jet for a little “pre-flight stress relief,” Hal knows how to make every second count.

– There’s no buildup with him during a quickie—he’s on you the moment the door closes, his hands everywhere as he growls, “We don’t have much time, so spread those legs for me. Now.” His pace is relentless, his thrusts hard and fast as he works to get both of you off before you’re caught. He’s not shy about talking dirty, either. “You’re so tight—fuck, I’m not going to last long with you clenching around me like that,” he groans, his breath hot against your neck as his hips slam into you.

– Hal loves the risk, the danger of being caught. It’s not uncommon for him to smirk and whisper, “Think anyone can hear us?” as he covers your mouth with his hand to stifle your moans—or maybe he doesn’t cover it at all, daring you to try and stay quiet as he fucks you so hard your legs give out. His cocky streak shines through even in these rushed moments, and he’ll make sure you know exactly how good he’s making you feel, muttering things like, “Damn, look at all that pre-cum, baby. Stop trying to pretend you don’t love this as much as I do.”

– And if you can’t finish in time? Oh, that only makes Hal more determined. He’ll adjust his grip, angle, and pace until he feels you trembling around him, pulling you over the edge just in time for him to finish inside you with a low, guttural groan. When it’s over, Hal is already straightening his uniform or pants, smirking as he watches you try to catch your breath. “What? Don’t look at me like that,” he teases, running a hand through his hair. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

– For Hal, quickies aren’t just about release—they’re about the rush, the adrenaline, and the satisfaction of leaving you wrecked and barely able to walk while he’s already back to business like nothing happened.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

– Hal Jordan isn’t just comfortable with risk—he thrives on it. Whether it’s in the air or in the bedroom (or somewhere far less private), the thrill of danger lights him up like nothing else. He loves the idea of pushing boundaries, crossing lines, and taking you to places you’ve never dared to go. And when the stakes are high—when there’s a chance someone might walk in or overhear? That’s when Hal gets truly reckless, and his need for you becomes uncontrollable.

– His favorite risks are the ones that make you squirm with both nerves and arousal. Pulling you into an empty meeting room on the Watchtower, pinning you against the door as he growls, “Think Batman’s gonna hear this? Good. Let him know who makes you scream.” Or finding a quiet spot on a rooftop during a mission, bending you over the edge while his lips press against your ear, murmuring, “Don’t look down. Focus on me, baby.” The added element of danger, the risk of being caught or seen, only makes him harder, his thrusts more desperate as he chases the high of knowing he’s taking you right where he shouldn’t.

– And Hal doesn’t just stop at the usual locations. If there’s a way to push things further, he’s the first to suggest it. Creating a glowing green construct in the middle of the sky, high above the city, where anyone looking up could spot the faint light and realize what’s happening? That’s exactly the kind of risk Hal craves. He thrives on the way your smaller body trembles beneath him, your moans carried on the wind as he smirks and mutters, “You’re so fucking loud. Think they know what we’re doing? Good.”

– It’s not just about location, either—it’s about power and control. Hal loves when you trust him enough to let him take charge in situations that feel downright dangerous, like fucking you on a moving jet or in the back of a parked car in broad daylight. His confidence is contagious, his hands steady as he grips your hips and whispers, “I’ve got you. You’re safe with me. Now hold still and let me ruin you.” And if you hesitate or shy away from the risk? Oh, that only makes him more determined to convince you, his voice dripping with lust as he adds, “Don’t be scared, baby. I’ll make it worth it.”

– For Hal, risk isn’t just about breaking rules—it’s about making you feel alive, your heart racing as much from fear as from the way he’s fucking you senseless. Every gasp, every whimper, every desperate moan you let out only fuels his need to push further, harder, leaving you completely undone and breathless from both the pleasure and the adrenaline rush.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

– Hal Jordan’s stamina is, quite simply, superhuman. Whether it’s his time as a test pilot, his duties as a Green Lantern, or the sheer force of willpower that drives him, Hal has the energy and determination to keep going long after most would’ve given up. And in the bedroom? That same relentless spirit shines through, making him the kind of lover who doesn’t just satisfy you—he completely wrecks you.

– One round with Hal is never enough. He’s insatiable, his body still humming with adrenaline even after you’re left trembling and breathless beneath him. He’ll grin down at you, brushing the hair from your face as he murmurs, “Tired already? Come on, baby, I know you’ve got another in you. Let me see it.” And before you can protest, he’s moving again, his hands gripping your hips as he drives into you with the same intensity as before, determined to pull even more moans and cries from your lips.

– Hal doesn’t just rely on physical stamina, though—it’s his mental focus that makes him unstoppable. He thrives on the challenge of seeing how far he can push you, how many orgasms he can pull from your trembling body before you’re a shaking, incoherent mess. His cocky smirk only grows wider every time you beg him to stop, to give you just a moment to catch your breath, and he leans down to whisper, “Not until I’m done with you. And I’m nowhere near done.”

– Even after he’s come hard and fast, Hal’s recovery time is impressive. He barely needs a moment to regroup before he’s ready to go again, his hands already roaming your body as he growls, “I can’t get enough of you. You’re too good for me to stop now.” It’s that endless drive, that need to keep proving himself, that makes Hal unstoppable. He doesn’t just want to satisfy you—he wants to leave you so thoroughly used and spent that you’ll still feel him the next day.

– And even after the physical part is over, Hal’s stamina carries into the aftercare. He’ll hold you close, his hands tracing lazy circles over your skin as he murmurs sweet, filthy praises in your ear, already planning how he’s going to take you again the moment you’re ready. For Hal Jordan, stamina isn’t just about lasting long—it’s about making sure you’re left completely and utterly satisfied, no matter how many rounds it takes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

– Hal Jordan isn’t the kind of guy to keep a drawer full of toys—why would he, when he’s so confident in his ability to satisfy you all on his own? His ego practically demands it. “You don’t need anything extra when you’ve got me,” he’ll say with a smirk, his hand sliding down your body to emphasize his point. But despite his pride, Hal’s no prude when it comes to spicing things up, and if the opportunity to use a toy arises, he’s more than willing to give it a try—especially if it’s going to make you moan louder or come harder.

– The kicker? Hal’s cocky streak means he’d absolutely get a silicone toy molded after himself. Whether it’s a gag gift or something he genuinely thinks you’d enjoy, the thought of you using him even when he’s not there is enough to make his blood run hot. He’d hand it to you with that signature smirk and say something like, “I figured you might need this for the nights I’m saving the galaxy. Just make sure to tell me which one feels better—me or the toy.” And if you tease him about it later? Oh, that’s only going to push him to prove there’s no comparison.

– When it comes to using toys on you, Hal’s enthusiasm is unmatched. The moment he sees how much they turn you on, he’s hooked. His favorite? Vibrating toys that he can use to tease you mercilessly, watching as you squirm and gasp under his control. He’ll press it against your most sensitive spots, holding it there until your body arches off the bed, only to pull it away at the last second with a low chuckle. “What’s wrong, baby? You can’t handle it? Guess I’ll have to take over myself.” Hal’s skillful hands and mouth might leave the toy feeling like second-best, but the combination of the two? That’s a recipe for complete and utter destruction.

– And if you ever decide to surprise him by bringing a toy into the mix yourself? Hal won’t be able to hide how much it turns him on. He loves the thought of you taking control for a moment, guiding his hands or showing him exactly how you want to be touched. But don’t think for a second he’ll let you have the upper hand for long. Hal’s all about reclaiming control, using the toy to push you even further until you’re gasping his name and gripping his arms, completely at his mercy.

– At the end of the day, Hal doesn’t rely on toys—but he’s more than happy to use them if it means making you fall apart in ways you never thought possible. And let’s be honest: the smug satisfaction he gets from watching you come undone, whether it’s his hands or his molded toy, is more than enough to keep him experimenting.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

– Hal Jordan is the definition of unfair in the bedroom. Teasing you until you’re a whimpering, desperate mess is practically a sport to him, and trust him, he’s a champion. He thrives on making you beg, dragging things out until you’re trembling beneath him, clutching at his arms or shoulders and gasping, “Hal, please.” And even then? He doesn’t let up. Instead, he smirks down at you, his fingers trailing maddeningly close to where you need him most as he murmurs, “What’s that? I didn’t hear you. Say it louder, sweetheart.”

– Hal’s favorite game is edging—pushing you right to the brink before pulling back, over and over again, until you’re practically crying with frustration. His hands, his mouth, his Green Lantern ring—everything about him is designed to drive you insane. He’ll kiss and lick his way down your body, his lips brushing over sensitive spots but never quite giving you the pressure you need. “You’re so sensitive here,” he’ll muse, his voice low and smug as his fingers ghost over your thighs. “I bet I could make you come just from this. But I think I’ll wait. You look too good like this—needy and desperate for me.”

– He’s not just unfair with his teasing—his stamina and control make him downright cruel at times. Hal can hold himself back for what feels like an eternity, watching you squirm and arch beneath him as he keeps his thrusts slow and deliberate, just enough to make you moan but not enough to push you over the edge. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he’ll whisper, his lips brushing your ear. “Not yet, baby. I want to see you beg for it first.” And when you finally do? That’s when he snaps, pounding into you with all the intensity he’s been holding back, leaving you breathless and trembling as he grins and mutters, “See? Wasn’t that worth the wait?”

– And let’s not forget his playful side—Hal’s smug remarks only make the teasing worse. If you try to take control or rush him, he’ll pin your wrists above your head, his grin infuriatingly wide as he murmurs, “Oh, you thought you were in charge tonight? Cute. Let me remind you how this works.” He doesn’t just tease; he turns it into a performance, loving every second of your frustration and the way you eventually melt under his touch.

– For Hal, being unfair isn’t just about the power trip—it’s about making sure you fall apart completely, begging for release until he’s ready to give it to you. And when he finally does? You’ll be too wrecked to care how long it took—you’ll just know it was worth every second.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

– Hal Jordan is not the type to keep quiet during sex. Subtlety? That’s for someone else. Hal’s the kind of lover who wants you to know exactly how good you’re making him feel, and he’s not shy about letting it show. From the low, guttural groans that rumble deep in his chest to the sharp gasps and growls that escape when you squeeze around him just right, Hal’s sounds are as intense and raw as the way he takes you.

– When you’re going down on him, he’s especially vocal, his head tipping back as a strained, “Fuck, baby, just like that,” falls from his lips. If you hit a particularly sensitive spot, he won’t hold back a loud, desperate moan, his hand tightening in your hair as his hips buck uncontrollably. He’s not afraid to be loud, and honestly? He gets off on the idea that someone might hear him losing control because of you.

– But Hal’s not just about his own sounds—he lives for yours too. The louder you get, the more it fuels him, driving him to go harder, deeper, until your cries and moans fill the room. He’ll mutter filthy things in your ear, his voice low and gravelly as he growls, “Come on, sweetheart, let me hear you. I know you’ve got more in you.” And if you try to stifle your sounds? Hal will take it as a challenge, doing everything in his power to pull those desperate, uninhibited noises from you. “Don’t hold back,” he’ll command, his grin wicked as he thrusts into you harder. “I want the whole damn building to know who’s making you scream.”

– When Hal finally comes, it’s loud, unrestrained, and raw. His groans morph into a broken cry, his voice rough and hoarse as he gasps your name like a prayer. Even in the aftermath, his breaths are heavy and labored, interspersed with occasional murmurs of “You’re too fucking good, you know that?” as he pulls you close.

– For Hal, volume isn’t just an afterthought—it’s part of the experience, an auditory testament to the pleasure he’s giving and receiving. And trust him, whether it’s your sounds or his, he’s making damn sure you both leave the room with hoarse voices and no doubt in your mind about how good it was.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

– Wouldn’t it be funny if Hal had a secret kink for doing it in zero gravity. Like, the man’s job–outside his actual job, that is–literally involves him being in space majority of the time. Like…take him off-planet, and the man is in his element, turning the vastness of space into his personal playground. He discovered it the first time he created a floating green construct bed with his ring, pulling you into his arms and realizing how much fun it was to move without gravity’s constraints. Now, it’s one of his favorite things to do during his time away from Earth and if you’re able to come along with him.

– The lack of gravity only amplifies the intimacy—and the filth. With no weight to hold you down, Hal takes full advantage of being able to flip and reposition you however he pleases, all while murmuring dirty praises like, “Look at you, floating here like you were made for me. Bet no one else could fuck you like this.” His hands and body keep you perfectly balanced, one arm pulling you tight against him as he thrusts into you in deep, deliberate strokes that leave you breathless. And the way your smaller frame moves so effortlessly in his grasp? Oh, that’s just another power trip for him, and he loves every second of it.

– The best part for Hal, though, is how gravity—or the lack thereof—makes everything feel more intense. Every touch, every thrust sends you spiraling, your moans echoing in the silence of space as his cocky grin grows wider. “Don’t hold back, sweetheart,” he’ll growl, “No one’s around to hear you but me.” And when you finally come undone, your body trembling and weightless in his arms, he’ll hold you close, his lips brushing against your temple as he murmurs, “Told you space sex was the best. Ready for round two?”

– For Hal, the thrill of zero-gravity sex isn’t just about the novelty—it’s about taking something ordinary and turning it into something unforgettable, just like everything else he does. And trust him, once you’ve experienced it, you’ll never look at Earth sex the same way again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

– When it comes to Hal Jordan’s cock, let’s just say it lives up to his cocky personality—impressive, commanding, and damn near unforgettable. Hal is absolutely a grower, though, which feels almost like an ego flex in itself. He might look average when soft, but the second things heat up? He’s packing more than enough to make your breath hitch. By the time he’s fully hard, he’s sitting at 7.5 to 8 inches in length, thick enough to leave you gasping as he stretches you wide with every thrust.

– His girth is substantial but not overwhelming, perfectly balanced to hit that sweet spot between pleasure and a delicious burn. He’s slightly thicker at the base, tapering just enough to make the first few inches feel like a challenge before he slides the rest of the way in, the stretch leaving you clawing at him and gasping, “Fuck, Hal, you’re so big.” And trust him, he lives for those words—there’s no greater turn-on for him than watching you struggle to take all of him, your body trembling as he pushes you to your limits.

– Hal’s cock has a very slight upward curve, enough to hit all the right spots with devastating precision. He knows how to angle his hips just right, making sure that every stroke leaves you moaning his name. The head is prominent and slightly flared, giving you an extra stretch as he slides in and out, the sensation almost too much to handle. He’s circumcised, the skin smooth and warm under your touch, and you’ll notice the faint veins running along the shaft, adding just enough texture to make every thrust feel even better. And trust him, he knows exactly how to use it. Every thrust is calculated, designed to leave you trembling and clinging to him for more. “You like how deep I’m hitting you?” he’ll growl, his cocky smirk widening as he drives deeper. “Told you I’d ruin you.”

– He’s circumcised, with a flared head that’s perfectly shaped for dragging along your most sensitive spots, leaving you shuddering with every stroke. The veins running along his shaft aren’t overly pronounced but enough to add texture that sends sparks through your body when he slides into you. The skin is smooth, warm, and a natural, slightly darker shade than the rest of his body, adding to the raw, rugged appeal of him.

– Hal takes pride in how clean and well-kept he is, always making sure he’s trimmed and ready for action. His scent is faintly musky but not overpowering—just enough to drive you wild when he’s got you pressed close, your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock sliding in and out of you with an almost unbearable rhythm. And when he’s fully hard, the weight and heat of him in your hands or against your body is enough to make your mouth water.

– For Hal, his cock isn’t just a part of him—it’s a weapon, and he wields it with the same confidence and skill as he does his constructs. He knows exactly what he’s packing, and he’s damn proud of it, using it to make sure you’re screaming his name long before he’s finished with you. And trust him—once you’ve had Hal, nothing else will ever compare.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

– Hal Jordan’s yearning is nothing short of all-consuming. When he wants you, he doesn’t just feel it—he’s overtaken by it, his every thought consumed by the need to have you, touch you, and claim you as his. It starts with a slow burn, a lingering glance that turns into an unrelenting hunger. Once that fire is lit, Hal doesn’t hold back, his need for you dripping from every word, every touch, and every shameless groan as he pulls you closer.

– Hal is the type to obsess over every detail of you when he’s caught in his longing. The way your body feels pressed against his, the sound of your breath hitching as his lips trail down your neck, the way your smaller frame fits perfectly beneath his. The sight of you—clothed, half-dressed, or completely bare—is enough to send his mind spiraling, his cock already straining against his pants as he mutters, “You have no idea what you do to me.”

– His yearning can be subtle at first—lingering touches, his thumb brushing over your wrist, or the way his hands grip your hips just a little too firmly. But when it boils over, Hal becomes utterly insatiable. He’ll pin you against the nearest surface, his lips crashing into yours as his voice drops to a desperate growl: “I need you. Right now.” His hands roam your body like he’s memorizing it, his grip firm yet reverent, as though touching you is both a privilege and a necessity.

– Hal’s yearning isn’t just physical—it’s deeply emotional. Beneath the cocky smirks and teasing words lies a man who craves connection, who wants to feel you shatter under his touch and know that he’s the reason. He lives for the way you cry out his name, for the way your body responds to him so perfectly, as though you were made just for him. And when you whisper his name in that breathless, needy tone? It drives him to the brink, making his yearning shift into something primal and raw. “Say it again,” he’ll growl, his lips brushing your ear as he grinds into you. “Tell me you need me as much as I need you.”

– For Hal, yearning is more than just desire—it’s a burning ache that only you can quench. And when he finally has you? He pours every ounce of that longing into the way he touches you, moves inside you, and whispers filthy praises into your ear. Because for Hal Jordan, nothing is more satisfying than turning his yearning into your undoing.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

– After an intense session, Hal Jordan is the type to pull you close, his broad chest pressed against your back as his arm drapes possessively around your waist. He’s not the quickest to fall asleep—his mind tends to wander, replaying every sound and reaction he pulled from you like a highlight reel. But once exhaustion catches up with him, he’s out cold, his breathing steady and his grip on you firm, as if even in sleep, he refuses to let you go. And if you’re still awake, don’t be surprised if he murmurs something smug in a half-asleep haze, like, “Told you I’d wear you out,” before pulling you even closer and drifting off completely.

☀️ | Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[teaxeee]

ZB1 LEGAL LINE W/ PUSSY SLAPPING PLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLS

ANYTHING FOR U SOLAR!!

ZB1 (legal line): Pussy slapping

Jiwoong would do it to absolutely punish and tease you, even if you're eating dinner with his family, he would fuck you with his fingers being careful not to expose what you two are doing while he's talking with his fam, he'd slap it enough to make you choke on your food as he innocently asks you "are you okay baby?" as he gives another light slap to your cunt

Zhang Hao would do it when he's punishing you, agressively fingering your pussy as he gives multiple slaps, making you whimper and beg "hao please..I'll be good I promise" while tears are streaming down your cheeks, making him chuckle and continue as he makes you squirt in the process

Hanbin would do it when this man feels sadistic, most likely would do it while he's fucking you roughly (which is VERY RARE TO SEE) as he gives rough slaps on your cunt, causing you to whimper and clench around his cock, making him thrust faster in you as he chuckles from how desperate you're becoming

Matthew would sit you in front of the mirror, your legs spread apart as he fingers you a bit roughly since you've been a bit bratty towards him, but if you try to move away he'd hold down your hips so you don't move and would roughly slap your pussy as a way to keep you in your place or else more punishment

Taerae wouldn't be a real big fan of it but if you misbehave? It becomes his new favourite thing because he gets to be in between your thighs, eat you out while you become a moaning mess and he can slap your pussy to keep you in place but it only makes your moans grow louder as you accidentally squirt on his tongue :(

Ricky would be obsessed, even if he's fingering you and slaps you pussy on accident the first time he did it, when he saw you beg him for more? he went crazy as he sped up his fingers, giving ocasional slaps to your cunt

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, part 11.5 [Rated E]

Optional smut continuation of part 11. Full chapter under the cut, click through at your own discretion. Read here on Ao3

[Warnings/Tags: very mild d/s dynamics (like. super mild, mentioning it just to be safe), unsafe sex, slightly possessive behavior (welcomed), rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, bottom!Steve/top!Eddie]

This is far from the first time Eddie’s had Steve spread out beneath him in bed.

This isn’t the first time he’s had him naked, skin flushed, chest heaving, lips parted and kiss-swollen, staring up at Eddie with bright, eager eyes – and god (or whoever else) willing, it won’t be the last.

But something about it still feels new.

There’s an awareness now – and understanding that this isn’t just his friend Steve, that they aren’t just here to have a good time, to make each other feel good and then part ways. The man beneath him is his, as much as Eddie belongs to him in turn; there’s something solid between them now, heavy and binding and comforting in its weight.

Eddie looks down at Steve with the knowledge that Steve wants to be with him, only with him, that Steve loves him and is letting Eddie love him in return, and Eddie wants to devour him.

So he gives into the urge.

Kneeling between Steve’s thighs, Eddie leans in and presses his lips to the soft spot just behind the hinge of Steve’s jaw, kissing and licking and nipping his way down the length of his neck. Steve is sighing with it when Eddie reaches the crook of his shoulder, where he opens his mouth and bites down on the thick muscle beneath his lips.

“Ah!” Steve hisses and jerks beneath Eddie, but the arm that comes up around Eddie’s back only pulls him closer.

Of all the many varied things they’ve done in bed together, this is the one thing Eddie had always wanted that he’d never indulged: biting, marking.

Steve hadn’t been his, he’d reasoned, so the right to leave hickeys and bitemarks hadn’t belonged to him. Now, though – now, Eddie eases up on the pressure of his teeth and instead seals his lips over the tender skin, sucking hard enough to bruise.

Beneath him, Steve practically whines, hooking one leg up over Eddie’s hips and pulling him closer, grinding up against him. Eddie moans, rocking into the feeling of Steve’s cock rubbing against his, hard and hot and beginning to bead with precome, and he finally releases Steve’s neck, licking over the bruise before he goes.

Ducking down, Eddie mouths his way across Steve’s collarbones, over his chest, and latches onto a patch of skin just over where he estimates Steve’s heart should be, scraping the spot with his teeth before he sets to sucking in another mark.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve hisses, all but squirming under Eddie now.

Eddie pulls away, kissing the already-purpling bruise he’s left before looking up at Steve, taking in the dark flush that’s starting to spread down his neck, the wet shine of his lips as he pants for air, and he grins.

“Gonna tell me what you want, sweetheart?” he asks.

Steve licks his lips, nodding. “I want to feel you – want you inside,” he says, low and rough. “Fuck me, Eddie.”

Eddie groans, the words going straight to his cock. He’d been pretty certain of the answer, but it doesn’t pay to assume; they don’t do this every time, and it isn’t as though they never switch it up (Eddie can remember the last time Steve had fucked him; his knees sliding across the sheets with Steve’s big hands curled around his hips, holding him in place as his cock split him open, the pace slow and deep, until Eddie had been all but drooling into the mattress and coming with barely more than a couple of tugs to his cock), but four times out of five, if they fuck, it’s Steve on the bottom.

They’d discovered together how sensitive he is, how he melts for just a couple of fingers inside of him, how he’ll practically scream if he’s fucked just right, how responsive he is if someone lays him back and doesn’t let him think.

Steve loves the feeling of being taken care of, of being filled and so obviously wanted, and Eddie– Eddie can’t think of a single damn thing better than the feeling of those thick thighs wrapped around his waist, shaking with the pleasure that Eddie is providing, or the sight of that strong back curved down in offering, waiting for Eddie to take him apart.

There’s nothing Eddie wants in the world as much as he wants to make Steve feel good right now, and he plans on pulling out every little thing he’s learned in the months they’d spent having—as Steve had said—a lot of sex in order to do just that.

“Anything you want, Steve,” Eddie croons – and he fucking means it. He scoots away and pats Steve’s hip before instructing him with a little twirl of his finger, “Over. On your knees, baby.”

While Steve twists on top of the covers, moving to obey, Eddie stretches for the bedside drawer, reaching in for the lube and condoms that are still right where he expects them to be, even though it’s been a couple of months since he’s had occasion to even be near them.

He turns back to find Steve waiting for him on his hands and knees, watching with anticipation, and Eddie shakes his head.

“Not quite what I meant,” he says, dropping the lube and condom on the bed before moving one hand to cup the back of Steve’s neck and press down gently. “Just your knees.”

And just like that, Steve goes down, shoulders braced on the bed, face half-buried in a pillow, allowing himself to be bent and molded to Eddie’s specifications, trusting Eddie to give him what he needs – and Eddie very much intends on delivering.

He presses a kiss to the base of Steve’s spine and runs his hands up the backs of his thighs, coming to cup his ass in his palms. He allows himself one indulgent squeeze to those soft handfuls before pressing his thumbs between Steve’s cheeks and spreading him open, exposing his tight, pink hole.

The breath Steve lets out is audible, sharp and anticipatory as Eddie leans in and blows a teasing stream of air over him before, with no further warning, he licks a thick stripe up from balls to tailbone.

“Unh-!” Steve sounds surprised, but the noise that comes from deep in his chest is no less pleasured for it. “Fuck, Eddie–”

Eddie hums and aims another broad lick right across Steve’s hole, and from there, the noises don’t stop. Eddie’s always loved eating Steve out for exactly this reason – it drives him crazy. He gets loud and squirmy and, if Eddie keeps at it long enough, teary and desperate. He’s so sensitive, so responsive, and Eddie fucking eats it up.

(So to say.)

He progresses from teasing strokes with the flat of his tongue to testing probes with the tip, and Steve answers him beautifully, pressing his ass back towards Eddie with a whine. Eddie obliges the unspoken request, sliding his tongue past the tight ring of muscle, and Steve shouts.

“Shit! Ah, ah–” He thrusts back, the arch of his spine curving deeper, hands fisting the comforter as he tries to get closer while Eddie fucks him with his tongue. “God, Eddie, please.”

Eddie wonders, not for the first time, if he could get Steve to come on his tongue alone, but now isn’t the time to find out. Instead, he pulls away to reach for the lube, ignoring the little sob of air Steve lets out as he goes; he’ll be back soon enough.

He drizzles some lube out into his hand, spreading it between his fingers and thumb, warming it just a little before he’s spreading Steve open with his dry hand and rubbing his thumb over his hole. He’s already a little puffy, flesh still wet from Eddie’s tongue, and he opens up beautifully, taking Eddie’s thumb all the way to the last knuckle with a long, low groan.

“God, look at you,” Eddie says, twisting his hand and feeling the silky heat against the pad of his thumb. “Take me so beautifully, it’s like I belong inside you.”

“Yeah.” Steve nods rapidly against the pillow. “God, yes, you – ohfuck!”

Eddie smirks as he hooks thumb inside of Steve and tugs, gently but inexorably stretching him wider, watching as Steve bucks back into the feeling. He ducks back down and shoves his tongue into the space he’s making for himself, and listens to Steve cry out.

Eventually, Eddie’s thumb is replaced by two fingers, and by the time he gets to three, Steve is all but sobbing, shifting restlessly as if his body can’t decide whether it wants to drive further into the pleasure or if it wants to escape Eddie and the relentless way he’s been stroking Steve’s prostate for the last minute.

“I’m – ‘m gonna – fuck, Eddie, fuck me, please,” Steve begs, legs shaking and hips canting towards Eddie still, like he just can’t help himself.

Gently, Eddie slides his fingers out, pressing another kiss to the tip of his tailbone as he goes. “Back over for me, sweetheart,” he says. “I wanna see your pretty face.”

“Starting… to feel like a dog,” Steve pants as he flops onto his side and then turns over onto his back, “the way you keep ordering me to roll over. Gonna tell me to sit and stay next?”

“Well, you are a very good boy,” Eddie says, smirking at the predictable catch in Steve’s breath, the way he goes absolutely still for a moment; if the flush high on his cheeks could get any darker, Eddie’s willing to bet it would right now, but the way his cock twitches hard against his belly gives him away all the same.

Eddie doesn’t push it today—it’s something they can have fun with later, with the many, many laters he hopes there will be—and instead reaches for the condom he’d abandoned to the side of the bed.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, watching Eddie’s hands. “Was there – was there ever anyone else? While we…?”

“Oh, fuck, no,” Eddie rushes to assure him, fumbling and nearly dropping the condom packet when he reaches for one of Steve’s hands and grips it tight. “No. I mean, Jesus, Steve, I had you – even if I didn’t quite understand how I had you, why would I have wanted anyone else then?”

Steve gives a little shrug. “I didn’t think– I mean, I hoped not, but I just– thought I’d ask. Because if there hasn’t been, then… you don’t really need that.” He nods at the condom, still clutched in Eddie’s free hand. “If– if you don’t want.”

“You–” Eddie breaks off, choked for a second by the feeling of pure arousal that rises up in his chest. “You want me to?”

Steve nods at whatever meaning he takes from Eddie’s half-formed question and sits up to cup a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck, pulling him into a kiss.

“Wanna feel you. Nothing between us,” he murmurs as they break apart. He kisses the corner of Eddie’s mouth, his cheek, and then leans in to speak quietly, right into his ear, “You can come inside me, if you want.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie practically lunges for the lube, flipping the cap open with an urgency he usually tries to keep in check. “If I want. If I want, he says!”

Laughing, Steve falls back against the pillows, watching through half-lidded eyes with satisfaction. “I mean, it kinda looks like you do,” he teases, and Eddie manages a breathless laugh as he’s stroking himself with one lube-slick hand.

“You’ve convinced me, Steve,” he says, aiming for dry but still sounding eager.

He positions himself between Steve’s thighs, guiding his cock until the tip is resting snug against Steve’s hole, and they both breathe sharp with the anticipation. But instead of pushing immediately in, Eddie leans up, taking Steve’s mouth in a kiss, deep and slick and consuming.

“I love you,” he says before they’ve really even pulled apart.

Steve’s expression goes soft at that, eyes wide with something that sparks like wonder. “I love you, too,” he answers, and Eddie grins.

He hopes that even if Steve says it a thousand times, he never gets used to hearing it. He wants it to feel like the first time, every time.

Slowly, he pushes forward, his mouth falling open at the heat squeezing around the head of his cock. Oh, he’s missed this – he’d missed everything about Steve, of course he had, but fuck if he hasn’t missed the way his body welcomes him in, grips him tight like it never wants him to leave.

He’s missed Steve’s fingers digging little bruises into his arms or his shoulders, missed the way his hair frizzes out across the pillow as he tosses his head back, missed the almost feverish gleam in his eyes when he’s close to coming – Eddie’s missed it all, and when he finally sinks in to the hilt, it feels like coming home.

“Oh, fuck, Steve,” Eddie breathes, pausing with his hands braced on Steve’s hips, wondering how long he’s even going to last.

“Move,” Steve all but demands, the desperation that had abated during their brief conversation returning with a vengeance. “Fuck, Eddie, please move.”

And Eddie had promised him anything he wants – he’s not about to deny him now. He pulls back, sliding almost all the way out before shoving back in, hard and fast the way that’s always made Steve light up in the past, and Steve doesn’t disappoint.

“Yes!” His back arches, hips bucking up to meet Eddie’s thrust. “God, just like that, Eddie, fuck.”

And fuck Eddie does, setting an unrelenting pace that pushes sweet noise after sweet noise out of Steve’s throat, hitting Eddie’s ears like music, like Steve is the best instrument he’ll ever learn to play. He’s not sure he can keep it up for long, but he’s not sure he’ll have to; Steve looks at least as far gone as he is, if not even closer to orgasm after all the time Eddie spent opening him up.

“God, fucking – perfect,” Steve hisses, his hands coming down to cover Eddie’s where they rest on his hips. “Always feel so fucking good.”

The hands over his own make Eddie pause, fully sheathed inside of Steve, panting and still for a moment. Then he takes his hands from Steve’s hips and instead twines their fingers together, leaning forward so he can brace their joined hands on the bed on either side of Steve’s head.

Steve clutches tightly at Eddie, letting out a delighted little noise that turns into a full-chested moan when Eddie pulls out and thrusts back in.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, aiming for the same spot again and getting an even louder noise for his effort. “Right there, baby?”

“Yes,” Steve gasps, his legs coming up around Eddie’s waist, encouraging him to thrust in harder, deeper. “Fuck, yes, yes, yes–!”

Eddie’s cock throbs, balls drawing up as he fucks faster into Steve, his rhythm going a bit sloppy. “Gonna come, baby? Just like this? Just my cock inside you?” He’s not sure if he’s teasing or if he’s begging, trying to make sure Steve is as close to the edge as he is. “Or are you gonna wait for me? Wait ‘til I come, ‘til you can feel me hot and wet inside you, so you know you’re mine–”

Steve arches up and comes with a wail, his cock untouched between them, spilling messy and slick across his belly and chest, and Eddie is fucking helpless to do anything but come after him.

He keeps thrusting, keeps grinding up into Steve until Steve’s noises become overstimulated little whines and Eddie is feeling a little raw himself. Carefully, he slides out, glancing down just in time to see a trickle of white follow him, leaking slowly down the inside of Steve’s thigh, and he wishes he could be ready to go again right this minute.

In lieu of that, he flops half onto the mattress and half on top of Steve, peppering breathless kisses across his shoulder, across his neck, over the hickey Eddie had left that’s already a livid shade of magenta, up his jaw and over his cheek, until Steve turns his head and catches him in a kiss that keeps him still for a long moment.

“That was different,” Steve says quietly when they part. “I mean, it was good! It was great, it was just… it felt different.”

“Told you: you’re mine. And I’m yours. And now we’re both fully aware.” Eddie kisses Steve on the cheek, then pauses as he’s hit with a thought. “Oh damn, do you think we just made love or some shit?”

Steve snorts. “I’m not sure making love involves getting turned on by watching your own jizz leak out of my ass,” he says, in a tone that very much implies ‘don’t think I didn’t notice.’

“Boo, that sounds boring,” Eddie says, very much ignoring Steve’s tone. “How about we say that we fucked with love?”

“How about we don’t.”

“Amorous fucking.”

“No.”

“Sweet, sensual sodomy.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Steve laughs, crashing his mouth against Eddie’s in something that might have been a kiss if they hadn’t both been grinning. “I love you.”

“Yeah? I guess that works: We fucked, also we’re in love,” Eddie declares, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“I guess that works, yeah,” he says quietly, smiling, still, and finally–

Eddie feels like he got it right.

-

No tag list on this one because I didn't know for sure who'd be comfortable with it, sorry!