#Song Inspired

[monkeychief1904]

This song really fits them (Shockwave specifically) to me

no lyrics version below cut

[zero13-constantine]

LongestSoloEver, Genichris, and Gianni Matragrano released a new ULTRAKILL song, and I could not rest until I drew something about it.

[taleyav]

“Slow dance in the parking lot”

The rain was gentle and hitting the car softly. The music in the background is just as light as the rain. The BMW is parked in an empty Walmart parking lot. Probably the most unromantic place in the world, but for Steve and Eddie. It’s perfect. It’s quiet, and for the boys moments like these come in small amounts. So the boys take whatever chance they can and run with it.

The boys have a small buzz, nothing much. But they will always say that at least one blunt. Will drown out any voices in their heads like nothing else.

“Ya wanna do something stupid?” Steve asks with a dumb grin on his face. Eddie was quick to giggle at him before nodding his head.

“And what stupid thing do you have in mind?” Steve doesn’t respond to the question. Not directly at least. All he does is get out of his car, walk to the other side, and make Eddie get out as well. But before the door closes Steve makes sure to turn the volume of the music as loud as he can. Eddie follows Steve’s lead in confusion, he doesn’t say anything until they’re behind the car.

“What are you thinking big boy?” Steve just smiles at him again before gently taking Eddie’s hand in his. Before gently grabbing Eddie’s back and brings him closer.

“Care to dance?” Steve finally asks with his dumb little smile. Eddie blushes instantly, not expecting that of all things. But he nods anyway, and Steve begins to move the pair in gentle movement. It’s not perfect, not even close. It’s clumsy and disorganized, but that- is exactly what the pair is. A little clumsy and a little disorganized. But to them it’s perfect. The perfect “slow dance in a parking lot.”

Inspiration song!

[fieryshipping]

wild orchid children - tree of knowledge (the elephant EP)

[smkndfbb]

SHORTPARIS - ЛЮБОВЬ МОЯ БУДЕТ ТУТ.

[wheneverfeasible]

My friend is listening to a nostalgia playlist and the song “Only Wanna Be With You” by Hootie & the Blowfish came on and honestly suddenly all I could think about was a secret relationship/situationship between Steddie where Eddie was trying to keep it casual and refused to accept it was anything more than a non-exclusive FWB situation while Steve wanted more.

It blows up, because of course it does, and Steve decides he can’t do it anymore and tells Eddie it’s over and to respect him enough to give him space and not contact him for a while and is very firm it’s over because he respects himself enough to give himself that.

And Eddie. Eddie hates it. Hates to acknowledge that Steve was correct when he said that Eddie never met him halfway, that Eddie always expected Steve to listen to what Eddie wanted when they were together, to watch what Eddie wanted, to do what Eddie wanted. That Eddie never tried to be a part of Steve’s life like Steve tried to be a part of his. Hates that he took Steve for granted. Hates that he made Steve feel like Eddie was ashamed of him.

Realizes how much he only wants Steve. They weren’t exclusive, and Eddie flirted with others, but he never actually did anything with anyone else. Because all he wanted, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself at the time, was Steve.

So he writes Steve a little pop rock song, confessing his feelings in such a cringe and embarrassing way for a metalhead, but he knows that’s that what he needs to do for even a chance at getting Steve back. So he writes a song in the style Steve would like, convinces Robin to take Steve out to the bar while CC is playing (it takes some doing but Robin lets Eddie know when Steve is ready for seeing Eddie again), and then Eddie stops their normal set in the middle of their show to play Steve his song.

He looks at Steve the entire time.

They finish the rest of their set as normal but him and Steve talk after and Eddie apologizes profusely and Steve doesn’t accept yet, but he agrees to give Eddie a second chance. But…Eddie has to woo him properly.

And Eddie?

That man fucking delivers. He’s buying flowers, chocolates, writing love songs and love poems, picking Steve up and dropping him off at work, hanging out with him to do the things that Steve likes to do, even if that means playing basketball with him, taking him on dates and pushing for nothing more than a chaste kiss at the end of the night—with he asks permission for each time. He is complimenting Steve in front of everyone and letting everyone know how fucking gone he is for Steve Harrington.

And Steve laps it up.

He eventually tells Eddie he forgives him, but warns Eddie that he better never pull that fucking shit again.

And Eddie doesn’t.

And they move on and finally allow themselves to be as in love as they have always been, even if it took a while to accept it.

And, years later, when they both become Mr. Munson-Harrington, Eddie and the rest of CC stand up and head to the instrument on the small raised platform and Eddie croons Steve’s song and looks his groom in the eye the entire time.

Because he only wants to be with Steve.

Hostage Hotties (open):

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes @hiei-harringtonmunson

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

CASUAL

two weeks and his dad invites you to his beach house..

chapter three

NSFW!! MDNI. seriously. please look away.

tim drake x reader

readers can expect: many sexual acts, sex sans condom, shower sex, semi-public fingering, oral like reader receiving and face fucking, blurry relationship lines, missionary and cowgirl, etc. i went buck wild and so reader did too.

one chapter left, it’s just gonna keep getting crazier. thanks for waiting so patiently, it’s a LONG one. enjoy!!

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

“well, i need you to decide now.” 

“this would’ve been a lot easier if you’d given me even a week’s notice..” you trail off under your breath, rolling your eyes. 

you’re gonna have to call out of work, and see if your neighbor, or maybe lydia? could water your plants. you’d have to write up a note on which plants need some sun and which need more water than others. you’d need to make sure you have everything you need, from shorts, sandals, a bikini, to definitely something fancier, knowing tim’s family. 

you sigh, shaking your head, lost in thought.

“no?!” tim asks, incredulous. you snap to, blinking. 

“what? no. yes, i’ll go with you. calm down.” you reply, making a face when he huffs at you. 

———————————————————

earlier 

“you look antisocial.” bruce wayne’s voice echoed around the empty den, the ice in his whiskey glass clinking as he set it down.

“i’m the president of a frat. being antisocial is borderline—no, downright impossible.”

bruce rubs a hand over his face, sighing. 

“i know that, tim, and you know that, but we: the family, the frat…” bruce sighs again. “we need the good publicity.” 

“it’s been a few weeks already, though.” tim gestures with his hands, getting exasperated. feeling like he’s trying to climb out of a sand pit. he will not be winning this argument. “doesn’t enough happen in gotham that people have already forgotten?” 

“you’d think, right?” bruce chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “but unfortunately for you, no.”

“but—bruce, i’m not dating right now. who am i supposed to bring?” tim looks incredulous, his hands spread wide. 

“you’ll figure it out.” bruce is hiding a smile behind his whiskey glass, taking a long sip.

“oh, come on—,” tim shuts his mouth when bruce holds up a hand. 

“you have a month.”

———————————————————

the week of..

seagulls call out to each other as the sea crashes beneath them, the sun a spotlight onto this beautiful little town you’d never thought you’d see. 

old, colonial style houses with gardens full of obnoxiously huge hydrangea bushes, beautiful old women walking their pedigree cocker spaniels, golden retrievers, groomed poodles. the town center built on brick, with shops selling salt water taffy and artisanal, locally made ceramics. an old mustang drives past, rumbling down the cracked, well-worn streets. 

the air itself feels premium, a deep breath bringing the fresh smell of clean earth and a lower note of salt from the ocean’s immediate presence. 

it’d be overwhelming if it didn’t seem so perfect, the smile on tim’s face sending your heart stuttering. why didn’t you get out of gotham more often? 

he grabs your suitcase from the trunk, setting it onto the gray gravel of the driveway with a crunch. how did they make even rocks look expensive? you take it, wheeling it over to the front door the best you can, tim behind you. 

“master timothy.” an elderly man dressed to the nines opens the door, his mustache and beard gray but groomed to perfection. “they’re expecting you in the backyard.” 

“we’re late?” you hiss to the boy next to you as he starts after the butler.

“..nah,” tim replies, looking back to give you a lazy and meant-to-be reassuring smile. you breathe in again, thinking about what this place would smell like as a candle.

“timmy…” the closest guy shouts, raising the cup he’s holding. his deep brown skin shines in the sunlight, glistening along with his wet swim trunks as he reclines on the deck furniture. 

the blonde girl next to him turns, along with the girl she was talking to, who’s smaller, with a haircut not too different from tim’s. you try to roll your shoulders back as they take you in, the blonde girl giving you a solicitous smile. 

the back yard is beautiful, and huge, the grassy lawn neverending, the pool attached to an almost pool-sized hot tub and a bar, tall trees surrounding the fence for privacy, but not blocking the sunlight. 

the butler comes out with a tray of sandwiches and a refilled pitcher of lemonade, to cheers from the group.  

the sun starts to set before you know it, and exhaustion sinks into your bones. your face hurts from smiling, voice scratchy from all the talking. 

making a hasty excuse, you scamper inside. the silence of the kitchen helps loosen the vice on your ribs, letting you breathe in the cool air. 

the butler watches you with an amused look from where he stands, behind the kitchen island. you notice him with a start, trying to play it off as the corners of his eyes crinkle into well-worn divots.

“could i please get some water, mr...?” 

“pennyworth. but just alfred, please. and you are?” he extends his hand, nodding as you tell him your name, shaking his hand how you were taught to. “it’s lovely to meet you. would you like a bottle of water or a glass?” 

“just a glass, if that’s alright.” you fidget, putting your hands behind your back. 

“of course it’s alright, dear.” he hands you the glass, filled with frigid water but no ice. you thank him, gulping down a sip. “is there anything else i can do for you? show you your room? the bathroom?” 

“maybe just my room, if it’s okay.” you say, clearing your throat. 

he takes you upstairs, opening the door to your bedroom for the week with a sweeping gesture. your suitcase sits across the bed on the floor, your covers turned down. an open window beckons evening air inside, the smell of salt and flowers drifting into the space. 

“your room, miss.” 

“thank you very much, alfred.”

your new favorite place in the world, and it’s tim’s?

you shut your eyes, burrowing deeper into the cooled sheets and comforter.

tossing and turning, you can’t seem to shake the rolling feeling in your stomach that you’re not really supposed to be here. you settle onto your stomach, your face smushed into the pillow. a soft, cool hand brushes hair from your forehead, trailing down your burning skin to rub your back. 

eyes glued shut, you sigh contentedly. the restlessness leaves you in waves, peace settling into your bones. 

you feel the press of lips against your temple, and you fall into sleep as the presence fades. 

the house is alive, the smell of bacon flirting with your nostrils. you roll out of bed, pulling on a hoodie and putting your hair up. 

you come down the stairs, greeted by a small smile from cass who’s walking a loaded plate of pancakes to the table. your stomach growls, and duke chuckles from behind you.

“don’t worry, alfred’ll get you right.” 

you smile in reply, nodding sheepishly. you follow him to the kitchen, grabbing the plate he hands to you, taking it to the table. 

everything’s set, the bacon’s settled next to a steaming bowl of scrambled eggs, a pitcher of orange juice next to the basket of pre-toasted bread. 

the sound of footsteps hits your ears, tim yawning as he enters the dining room. a faded old hoodie hangs off his shoulders, pajama pants slung low on his hips. he stretches like a cat, overdramatic as ever. but his hoodie rises, and your eyes track the line of hair leading from his navel, disappearing into his waistband. your mouth starts watering, definitely from the food. not because you just remembered his habit of going commando in flannel pajama pants. he passes your side of the table, tugging at your ponytail.

tim seats himself across from you, shooting you a sleepy smirk. dark circles ring his eyes, his hair tousled. 

“good morning,” he says, his voice deep and thick with sleep. butterflies play tag in your large intestine as you and the table return the greeting. 

tim raises an eyebrow, the bacon plate in his outstretched hands. you nod eagerly, and he chuckles quietly at the look on your face. duke chatters to cass about how he hopes to even out his tan at the beach tomorrow, steph quietly talking to alfred about his dinner menu for the week. 

his bare foot pokes yours, and you stretch out your legs, slotting your feet between his on the ground. he leans over the table, the epitome of innocence as he shovels food into his mouth. 

the day is mellow, one spent to laugh and chat with new friends, to twine your fingers into tim’s hair and scratch. 

you’re given a tour of the small town, tim buying you your favorite flavor of saltwater taffy at the candy store, a souvenir necklace, the deep blue pendant made of seaglass. the way it catches the light reminds you of his eyes. 

later, bruce wayne and his eldest son, dick grayson, arrive. cass notices the rumble of the engine first, starting the charge into the house with her siblings following. tim stretches out a hand for you to grab, leading you in. 

“hello, hello!” dick says, gathering his siblings into a big group hug.

he brushes away your hand when you try to shake his, pulling you into a quick hug as well. 

“you must be here with tim,” dick says, his eyes twinkling and full of warmth. “welcome to the family!”

“what do y’all think..family game night?” duke asks, holding open a cupboard door, revealing stacks and stacks of board games.

“not monopoly, though!” steph shouts. “bruce is way too good at that one.”

“i beat him last time we played,” tim whispers into your ear, the smirk on his lips clear in his voice. 

he wins a game of uno, folds quickly in the following game of poker, salt water taffy as the chips. the wrapper crinkles as he pushes the candy out into his mouth, tucking the trash into his pocket. the hollowing of his cheeks as he sucks at the candy shouldn’t be as erotic as it is. 

steph rolls her eyes, pulling her pile of taffy away from him. 

“you always give up so early.” she says, tim’s eyebrow raising in response. 

“what’s it to you,” he replies, crossing his arms. cass laughs, duke chuckling under his breath. 

“either way,” dick says, “i’m gonna smoke you losers.” 

bruce drops his hand, effectively shutting him up. 

“royal flush!” duke shouts, pointing. cass’s eyebrows are touching her hair, her mouth a perfect ‘o’. steph scoffs, snatching up a taffy from her own stash to chew angrily. 

tim smirks, sliding an arm around your shoulders. 

“you’ll get ‘em next time, tiger.”

__________________________________________

the next day

“it’s probably a crime to ignore the way you look in that suit, babe.” 

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “too cheesy. try that on a different girl and see where it gets you. i am not the one.” 

tim smirks, crossing his arms. his sun kissed biceps look back at you as he leans in.

“i’ve gotten your pants off without a word, and i can do it again.” 

“shut it, drake,” you shove him, laughing. 

“usually i try to open it, doll.” he replies, and you roll your eyes again, starting down the beach. 

you look back, adding a sway to your hips when you see his eyes locked onto your retreating figure.

“tease!” he shouts after you. 

you bask in the sunlight, sliding your sunglasses up to watch the guys toss around a football. dick throws a perfect spiral to duke, who jumps to catch it one-handed. tim tackles him into the sand, dick cackling all the while. 

cass motions to you, and steph nods, stretching her long legs out onto the blanket, feet nested in the sand. 

“so,” she starts, tilting her head as she looks at you. “you and tim, huh?” 

you blush, nodding. cass rolls her eyes at steph, giving her a look. 

“yeah, yeah.” steph says, shaking her head. “look, did he tell you about us?” 

you furrow your eyebrows, tearing your eyes away from the boys by the water. 

“his family? of course.” you say, unsure. cass sighs.

“no, like, me and him,” steph says, her words sending your stomach off of a 50 foot cliff. 

“..no, he hasn’t.” you say, keeping your tone light. 

“we used to date, that’s all. nothing special for me, or anything.” she waves her hand. “water under the bridge, for sure. definitely got closer with his family, in the long run.” cass nods approvingly, giving you a reassuring smile.

“like, i promise there’s nothing there. it was a long time ago and we realized we’re much better off broken up.”

“okay,” you say, drawing circles in the sand.

“i just wanted to make sure you knew,” she continues, as you look up. “i knew he was never going to say anything.” 

you nod, leaning back onto your hands. “well, no hard feelings. i promise.” 

steph gives you a firm nod in return, her lips pulling into a grin. 

“i think we’ll be good friends.” 

cass hands you a peach ring from the bag. 

—————————————————

later, 

you head upstairs to shower before dinner, tim waiting a beat before following you up the stairs. 

he can barely take it, thinking about how you looked on the beach today. 

he wanted to take you right there on the sand, roll around with you until he had you on top of him, hips clapping into his as you bounce on his cock. 

he had to get you away, all to himself.

it was almost dinner time anyways. you two should probably work up an appetite, no?

steam envelops the room, the beat of the water on tile drowning out the soft moans that escape from your lips. your leg’s wrapped around his waist as he pounds into you, his eyes darkened with desire. tim’s barely able to hold back the rough noises leaving him, grunting as he watches the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. 

need burns through his body, sending waves of heat off of him onto you. you know he’s about to come, can see it in the furrow of his brows and stutter of his hips. 

he moans into the crook of your neck as he finishes, burying his hot cum deep inside of you.

you blink and tim’s beneath you, your back pressed against the shower wall as your leg rests on his shoulder. 

a rough lick across your clit has you arching away from the pristine tile, tim’s first three fingers buried inside of you, pushing his cum deeper. 

he’s relentless, sucking at your clit, messily shoving his fingers farther and farther into your pulsing hole. you can’t take it, the sensation making your thighs shake, your toes curl. you throw a hand over your mouth as you cry out. and before you know it:

you’re coming onto his tongue, and he laps it up, suckling and kissing away the mixture of your fluids. 

he kisses his way over your stomach, licking a flat stripe up the valley of your breasts. you grip at his back, scratching into the muscled skin. he moans from where he’s situated, sucking your nipple into his mouth as he works the other with his fingers, arousal burning ever hot between your thighs. he moves, and your resulting whine is swallowed by him as he kisses you, passion laced in his lips as his tongue dances with yours. you lean into him, arms around his neck, letting him hold you up on your shaky legs. 

gathering shampoo into his hands, he lathers it into bubbles before massaging it into your scalp. you practically go limp, his long fingers working, fingernails softly scratching. 

he carefully rinses out every sud, smoothing conditioner into your hair to let it sit as he grabs the soap bar. 

he slides it along your skin, his flushed cheeks and swollen lips making your heartbeat pound so loudly in your ears it’s a wonder that he can’t hear it.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

dinner’s at the local lobster restaurant, their neon sign winking at you as you enter. 

you’re happy: it’s not somewhere hoity-toity with seven spoons just for different courses. you know how to eat lobster, you know how to get messy. 

the plate in front of you makes your mouth water. you’re famished, the butter dripping off the corn on the cob and pooling under the herb-laden lobster has you blinking in disbelief. 

the rest of the table digs in, and duke watches in awe as you crack your lobster easily. 

“how’re you so good at that??” he asks, jaw dropped. 

you giggle, sucking the butter off of your finger, extremely aware of tim tracking the movement like he’s a wolf and you’re a bunny. funny, he does chase after you wherever you go, doesn’t he?

you beckon to duke, who hands you his plate. the shell of his lobster cracks easily for you, even with your butter-greased fingers. you slide it back over to him, bruce giving you a nod, a warm smile. 

“she’s so cool, but she never has the time to do anything. trust me, i’ve asked.” dick sighs.

you ponder this, pointing your seafood pick at him. 

“are you sure she’s not just saying she’s busy?” you ask, and dick’s eyes widen.

“yes, i swear. she’s got a ton going on. always, always working.” he says.

you nod, chewing on another bite of food.

“just take her lunch. on her break. find out where she likes to eat and what her order is and bring it to her. have a date at her workplace.” 

duke and dick’s eyes widen in unison, and duke nods. 

“dude. that’s perfect.” 

“why didn’t i think of that?!” dick says, disbelief painted across his face. the face he’s making along with the plastic bib is too much for everyone, just beyond comical. 

steph giggles beside you as cass snorts, the table dissolving into laughter. even tim chuckles, shaking his head. 

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

that night 

“it’s not like he was given a month in advance, or anything.”

you can feel yourself opening and closing your mouth like a fish. A MONTH?

and he took his sweet time, too. floundering around, always looking like he needed to say something to you every time he saw you. 

god, he’s so baffling!

“he—he asked me two days ago.” you’re looking at your hands, folded in your lap. you were barely even able to squeak out that sentence to her, feeling like it was some big secret or something.

“you’re his girlfriend, and he took a month to ask you to come on a family vacation? we do these every year, the date is always on the calendar..” steph’s looking at you with wide eyes, shaking her head. she looks baffled too. that’s somewhat reassuring.

a low knock sounds at your door. you look to steph, who shrugs. 

“yeah?”

no reply, just tim sweeping the door open before lifting his arms to hold onto the door frame. 

steph rolls her eyes, and you just look at him expectantly. 

“steph, i need to talk to her.”

“..okay?” 

he leans against the frame, crossing his arms. his biceps bulge, looking bigger in the low light of the lamp. 

“alone?” 

steph looks to you, and after you nod, gets up with a sigh. 

“yeah. whatever.” 

she brushes past him, and he moves quickly, the door closed and click locked behind him. 

“what do you want,” you start, but he’s over to you before you can blink. his arms circle your waist, and your palms rest on his chest, smooth, like it was choreographed. 

“you.” he smiles as you roll your eyes. “i missed you.” 

“….uh-huh.” 

he pulls you impossibly closer, looking deep into your eyes. 

“you’re so cute when you’re annoyed with me.” 

you try to push him off, and he relents. but instead he grabs your hands, walking back until he hits the bed, sitting. you’re standing over him now, your hands naturally going to his neck as you play with his hair. he’s been letting it grow since summer started, but you know he’ll probably want to cut it soon. 

you thread your fingers into the little curling hairs at his nape, cherishing the length while he has it. you know he’ll spend a week after his trip to the family barber obsessively looking in the mirror and messing with his bangs until he’s (barely) satisfied. 

“where’d you go?”

you blink, his gaze boring into yours. you feel your cheeks heat as you realize he’s been studying you as you drifted into nowhereville thinking about his haircut habits. ridiculous. 

“nunya.”

he scoffs, an amused look on his face as he raises an eyebrow at you. 

“oh, really?”

“mmhm. yep.”

he digs his thumb into your hip, right where you’re ticklish, and you yank a little where your hand is gripped into his hair. 

“okay, okay,” he holds his hands up in surrender, and seeing the opportunity, you grab them and push him onto the bed, straddling his hips. 

he makes a surprised noise that has you stifling a giggle as you hold his hands above his head. 

your turn. 

“you think it’s sooo cuuute when i’m annoyed, huh?”

he nods, a stupid grin on his face. 

“you’ve got that right.” 

—————

he moans into your mouth, one that would’ve been loud, were you not tongue deep. 

you roll your hips against him again. you can feel the wet spot on his boxers through your panties, and you lean back to tug him free. 

his length bobs out, and he’s hard as a rock, a pearl of pre glistening on his tip. you swipe it off with your thumb and he slaps a hand to his mouth to stifle a groan. you’ve been relentless, to say the least. and you don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. you push his bared cock against his stomach, not bothering to remove anything but your shirt as you rock back and forth against it. 

“god, fuck! fuck me,” he pants, his hands gripping into your thighs in a way that’ll no doubt bruise. 

“i will if you’re good.”

“if i’m good—,” 

and you know he would’ve finished his sentence in some smart-aleck way if you hadn’t leaned back, running a finger over his tip. 

his exhale is a whimper, his eyes slammed closed. 

you pull your panties to the side, spreading your folds over his shaft. the wet warmth of the spot between your legs has tim hissing, his hands clenched so tightly at your hips you’ll be bruised in the morning. you move your hips back, sitting up on your knees. 

he looks so concerned, you giggle, the idea of you moving just devastating to him. 

you grab his cock, pumping it in your hand before lining it up with your entrance. you’re so wet, so ready, that you bottom out easily. you’re not paying any attention to tim, your hands planted on his chest as you roll your hips over his, the friction sending shocks of pleasure up your body. you press tim further into the mattress, his groans mixing with the wet sound of your bodies melding together. 

“tim,” you pant, and he knows immediately, starting up exactly where you stopped, his hips lifting from the bed to drive his cock deeper into you. throwing your head back, you suppress a moan feeling the way tim’s hitting that perfect spot.  

__________________

tim can’t believe how good it feels to have you clench around him like that, pulling him further in. his back is damp with sweat, his skin hot against yours. 

he loves having you underneath him like this, letting him pound you into the bed like you don’t have to walk around tomorrow. 

your nails scratch into the soft skin of his back, the thought of bearing evidence of your pleasure makes his eyes roll back. 

he whimpers into the crook of your neck as he fucks into you, the roll of his hips driving him deeper and deeper still. 

but you want his attention. you need his attention. you’re not just some plaything of his.

“so i’m your girlfriend, huh?” you grit out, fingers grabbing at his chin to keep his eyes on yours. 

“where’d you hear that one?” tim replies, his slanted brows becoming angry slashes on his face, the darkness exaggerating his features in an unrecognizable way. 

“your family, tim.” you say, smirking when you feel his hips stutter and stop, the look on his face making you giggle. “what, like i wasn’t gonna hear about it? i’m living in your dad’s house.” 

he’s opening and closing his mouth like a fish, and when he opens it again, you stick your middle and ring fingers in. his eyes widen with surprise, but he relents, sucking on your digits, swirling his tongue around them. 

“now move.” you say, feeling him jump inside of you. he can act high and mighty all he wants, but he’s aching to finish just as much as you are. tim starts up again, snapping his hips into yours. 

you pull your fingers out with a pop, using how wet they are to rub circles on your clit, just how you like it. tim’s eyes are huge, he’s unable to stop watching the way you’re using him for your own pleasure. 

two can play at that game, can’t they?

—————————————————————————

the next day

you’d really love to be concentrating on the conversation you’re in, but that’s borderline impossible with the way tim’s playing with your clit. 

his fingers pet over your lacy underwear, hidden by the long tablecloth and your dress. 

you fight the urge to curl your toes in your dressy sandals, tim’s hand nothing but a hard surface to grind up against. as he chats with mr. whoever about who knows what, he’s pulling your panties to the side, sliding a finger through the gathering slick to then push it into you. 

you stop breathing, thinking about the amount of people surrounding the two of you. 

he’s slow, methodical, trying to make you loud while he stays quiet.

he turns his attention back to your clit, noting the way it’s making you squirm.  

you turn the resulting moan into a cough, nothing tim’s smirk. asshole. 

tim rubs slow circles around the little pink bud, tutting under his breath at you when you try to cross your legs. you sigh, giving him a little nod, and he continues, pulling you right to the edge just to stop. you bite back a gasp at the sudden lack of stimulation, your pulse pounding out a beat between your legs. 

you’re coming around his fingers, pussy clenching as you try to pull him deeper. you feel heat creeping up your neck, burning your ears and cheeks as you fall apart for him in public, the noise of the party growing louder and louder in your ears. you grab your drink, gulping down the cool liquid. 

he pulls his hand away, slowly, nonchalant as ever. 

your pussy flutters around the lack of him, and you ache for another release, three, four. you doubt you’ll ever be truly sated when it comes to tim and the things he does to you.

he grabs his glass, spilling a little on his fingers. without so much as a glance to you, he sucks the liquid off of his middle digit, the one still warm from being inside of you. 

“well, montgomery, i think that if you continue to build your portfolio in such a way, it'll cause financial ruin down the road. i suggest you have it sent to my father’s assistant at wayne enterprises and i’ll take a look at it for you, find you some new stock.” 

mr. montgomery nods at tim’s suggestion, obviously trying to suppress how eager he is at the chance to have timothy drake-wayne look at his poor attempts at investing. 

ice clinks in glasses as soft music floats over the garden from the band in the corner, string lights twinkling overhead. 

his arms cross over your lower back, guiding you to sway along to the beat as you rest your head on his shoulder, your arms circling his neck. 

the spot between your thighs still aches from where his hand was, where his fingers had been pushed deep inside of you. 

you know you’re being watched, a sweet smile plastered to your face as the select few members of the press allowed in snap shots of you and tim. 

you can still feel your pulse down there, and you pull ever closer to tim. you feel his already hard cock react, twitching from where it’s pressed between your bodies.

haven’t even touched him, but he’s walking around with his need for you obvious. you’re shocked he hasn’t pulled you into an empty bedroom yet. 

probably too much press present.

the song ends, and tim breaks the embrace, those on the dancefloor clapping politely for the band. 

he leads you off to the side, saying he’s going to grab something to drink. you nod, feeling eyes on you, trying to not look like you’re shrinking into the corner, but trying to shrink into the corner. 

you’re in all white, pristine linen that feels dirty from being pressed up against tim like that in front of press, bruce’s friends, his family. 

it’s been awhile now, and the crowd’s cleared away from the little poolside bar, no tim in sight. 

“hey,” dick says, sidling up next to where you’re waiting. “you all good?” 

his thick eyebrows are knitted with concern, and he’s so endearing you can’t help but want to tell him the truth. 

“yeah,” you smile, watching his face relax in response. “just waiting for tim. he said he’d grab me something to drink, but..” you look around, lifting your hands as you shrug. 

“well then, this is perfect.” dick says, handing you one of the champagne flutes he’s holding. 

“thank you!” you gush, beaming up at him, cheeks rosy. did manners skip a generation in this family? 

dick returns your smile, grabbing your elbow to pull you closer as a guest pushes by. he asks about school, interrogating you about your major. 

he smirks when you talk about the mess hall food, laughs at a retelling of the time you fell down the stairs in a lecture hall, nods with fervor when you talk about protests on campus, eyes crinkling when you bemoan the way bubblegum flavored vodka smells on drunk breath. you don’t remember the last time someone paid this much attention to you, his eyes locked on yours as you talk with your hands, gesturing about with your glass. 

the golden, bubbling liquid has you babbling, giggling over whatever quip dick inserts into the conversation. you realize that you’re being rude, cutting yourself off abruptly, much to dick’s surprise. 

“but enough about me! what’s going on with you?” you rush out, shutting your mouth to give dick the stage.

dick chuckles, his grin like a little spotlight. 

“i’ve been working for the nonprofit side of wayne enterprises recently, trying to get a feel of where we could best help gotham.” he starts, and a sense of hope rises in your chest, flutters its wings delicately against your ribcage. 

“that sounds wonderful, dick!” you say, feeling yourself smiling like a dork. what a good idea. “does tim help with stuff like that?” 

dick notes the hopeful tilt in your voice, the responding sinking feeling in his chest. he’s got to take the chance while he can. 

“sometimes, but look—,” he starts, sighing into his glass. “tim’s not..he’s never been in a good relationship, honestly.” 

you look up, confused. 

“and that’s never been the fault of the other person.” he runs a hand through his hair, a little apprehensive. his eyes dart around. “that’s all i’ll say on the subject.” 

your mind’s reeling, moving through thoughts at lightning speed. you can’t say you’re surprised, but can you even do better? 

his face when he laughs flashes in your brain, the deep blue of his eyes, the little smile he gives you when he sees you after a long time. how he holds you, teases you. he brought you flowers on your birthday, paid for you to get your car a brand new radiator, driving you everywhere when it was in the shop getting fixed. 

the forehead kisses, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the press of his lips on your neck. you’d turn the way he smells into a candle if you could, a cologne that you could spray everywhere he wasn’t. 

the way he holds your hand, like he’s scared you’ll run if he lets go. the look on his face when you talk about guys in your classes, moving away from gotham after college.

and—

what would’ve happened if you’d met dick first? his blue eyes that hold a warning, contrasting with his light brown skin and his smile: one that’s easy, that he wears often. 

or stephanie, tim’s ex-girlfriend? would she have warned you away? held you close to her instead, defending you as a best friend would?

or even cass, silent, and obviously endeared towards her family—it seemed as if even through her love she was able to see past the shiny teeth and empty promises tim peddled. 

but you? it was too late for you. you were in much, much too deep. 

tim had to run off to the bathroom. there was no other way. he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t. 

he darted up the stairs, knowing the house would be completely empty. locking the door to his bathroom (the one en suite to his room) he undoes his belt with practiced speed, yanking his boxers down. 

the ones he’s wearing are your favorites, the pair you steal to wear every time you sleep over. the thought sends his cock jerking, the tip red and swollen, already dripping precum. the last time he was this hard you’d been on your knees under him, and that memory alone almost has him repainting the bathroom door.

you were so ready for him, sitting next to him at dinner. so warm, and so, so wet. the feeling of you clenching around his fingers is all he can think about as he fucks his hand, bracing himself against the counter. your little gasps, the thin line your lips formed as you tried to bite back moans, all while tim was two fingers deep in your pretty pussy, curling his digits further into you. was he not supposed to react? 

and then dancing afterwards, his body pressed to yours lengthwise—he’d already been hard, but was practically dizzy from how fast the rest of his blood rushed to his cock. 

so that’s why he’s here, biting his lip so hard he’s probably drawing blood, harshly tugging at the length of his cock, eyes squeezed shut.  

tim groans, cum covering his hand as he shudders, breathing heavily. 

cleaning himself up, he hears laughter from the backyard. happy, full laughter, not the kind that most guests at the party would have. but you’re not most guests. tucking his shirt back in, he buckles his belt. 

he leans over, peering down through the window pane to try and get a glimpse of who you were so animatedly talking to. he goes up on the balls of his feet, and growls.

his brother.

“getting her drunk, dick?” tim’s voice sends a chill up your spine, feeling his presence behind you. you look down at your drink, watching the bubbles float to the surface, popping when they reach the top. tiny little deaths, tiny little fireworks. 

“no, just doing what you couldn’t.” dick replies, a tight-lipped smile glued to his face for onlookers. 

you try to suppress the shocked expression you feel your features reaching towards, opting to take another swig. you sling an amicable smile at dick, looping your arm through tim’s as he glares at his brother. 

in an attempt to ease the tension, you turn to tim. 

“have you chosen your classes for next semester yet?” 

“hm?” tim replies, distracted. “oh, my career consultant does that for me.” he smiles, that cheshire cat smile, and grabs your drink from you, tilting his head back as he finishes it. 

“did you hear she’s planning to ask bruce for a letter of rec?” dick says, smiling warmly at you, but addressing tim. 

“she..what?” tim looks at you, his eyebrows furrowing, his facial expression leaning into incredulity. 

“yeah, for my international affairs internship this fall. i told you about it last month, and..” you trail off, remembering that he hadn’t seemed like he was listening then, either. “well, anyway, i figured mr. wayne would be a good person to ask, and dick agreed, so.” 

you shrug, feeling like you’re shrinking by the second. 

“i’ll help you, babe. good idea.” tim relents, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to your temple. 

looking down, you squint. what is that on tim’s shoe?

——————————————————————————

the next day 

“you’re full of shit, drake,” a voice growls from the speaker of his phone. tinny, but the power behind it is evident nonetheless. 

“me? i’m full of shit, todd. me.” tim spits out, body language directed at his phone like the caller is really there. 

“did i stutter?”

tim scoffs, a sneer distorting his features as he delivers his next blow. 

“i don’t know why i entertain this. you. one push of the button and you’re dead to me.” 

“that was low, drake, but i can’t say i expected anything else.” 

“hmph.” tim’s scrubbing his hands over his face, through his hair. 

“but this shit? stop being such an asshole. i know that’s almost impossible for you,” the voice continues. “but this poor girl doesn’t deserve it. i have half a mind to pay her fucking college tuition. in your name, mind you.” 

tim’s rendered speechless, opening and closing his mouth. the voice chuckles. 

“you want me to stop selling to your ‘frat bros’?” the speaker says, the end of his sentence dripping in sarcasm. 

“i think i made that plenty clear,” tim says, words being grit out from behind his teeth. 

“so stop being a shithead.” 

tim’s fist clenches, and he almost hangs up. 

“still don’t see what the fuck this’s got to do with her.” he says. 

“you don’t need to see anything. i’m trying to keep the people of gotham safe.”

“..by selling them drugs?” tim laughs, sounding a little crazy. 

“mmph, well. if that’s how you want to phrase it, then yes.”

the call disconnects, and tim tosses his phone on his bed, a little too harshly. 

_________________

“let’s go.” tim snarls, pulling you into your room from the hallway. his grip on your hand loosens when he notices how wide your eyes are. 

he’s wearing that look on his face where he wants to yell but won’t. the resulting silence is usually worse than if he’d just do it. 

“is everything okay?” you ask, keeping your tone light.

his response is a jerky nod, grabbing your things from the dresser to toss into your open suitcase on the floor.

“can you at least fold them?” you plead, and he glances at you. you’re smirking, but it falters when you see the cold fury in his eyes.

you push the door closed, locking it before coming to stand right in front of him. 

his eyes widen when you drop to your knees, unbuckling his belt, pulling his boxers and jeans down. 

you pull at his shaft until he’s hard, cooing over his angry, red tip and cupping his balls in your hand. 

kissing along the side of his cock, he threads his fingers into your hair as he watches you go down on him. 

his lips are pulled tight as he fights the urge to thrust into your mouth, to fuck your face. but that’s why you’re on your knees.

“let loose, drake.”

he nods, letting out a shaky sigh. you brace your hands on the top of his thighs, relaxing your throat as he slowly pushes himself deeper into your mouth. 

he keeps an eye on your face, watching your reaction as he slowly starts to thrust, your cheeks hollowed as your lips stretch to fit his cock.

tears stream down your cheeks, your hair tangled into tim’s fingers as he uses your mouth to get off. he’s gentle, but his pace is still relentless, your mouth so wet and warm. the look on his face is almost pained, like it feels too good. you know he loves having control like this, figured it would be the quickest way to calm him down, tire him out too much to be angry without actually dropping your pants. 

you look up at him, holding eye contact as he watches you bury your nose into the tuft of curls at the base of his cock. one last push of his hips, and you know he’s done, informed by months of experience at the way his stomach muscles tighten and he throws his head back.

a groan escapes from behind his gritted teeth, his hands gripping harder at your hair as he comes in your mouth. 

white, hot ropes of cum paint the back of your throat in excess as he falls apart, your hands pumping his length to get every last drop. 

he moans, eyes rolling back as you bob your head. but he stops you before you can get him worked up again, arousal rolling through his body as you let him out with a pop. 

you pull his pants back up, and he buckles them, getting you on your feet and leading you to the bed where he sits you on his lap. 

tim wipes your tears away, licking his thumb to smudge off runny makeup. you get a kiss on the forehead as he smooths your hair down, a kiss on the lips as he rubs your aching knees. 

__________________________________

rolling down the window, you wave like a little kid to your new friends, beaming at alfred, who returns the favor with a shy smile and a raised hand. 

“bye!”

“bye! see you later! bye!”

“bye cass, steph!! bye dick!! bye duke!!” you quickly pull yourself back into the car when tim tugs on your shirt, and once you’re buckled he rolls up your window.

he settles his hand onto your thigh as he makes his way down the driveway, speeding off down the road.

●

●○

●○●

●○●○

●○●○●

tim drake's fan club:

(taglist)

@dfgcbgdc @benditlikegumby93 @agent-nobody-knows @jaybunsblog @astermos-74 @ravenna-reid @borutoistrash1-blog @slut4animedilfs @nuggget-consumer-9000 @turtleturtleturtleturtleneck @hellishattempt @trashhighwaybird @sergeant-angels-trashcan @lilithskywalker @natsukicookies @flowrs-on-an-empty-windowsill @athenastar27 @timdrakeisasugardaddy @1cxndy

(also added those interested in new parts, i can remove you from the taglist, just ask!)

●○●○●

●○●○

●○●

●○

●

[tullecake]

From between clouds being torn apart, my tears overflow. I clung to you tight as you slowly blurred away.

glow - keeno

felt kinda sad today, i love this song and them, so i doodled :D

[maranigai]

Пылью под пологом голос мне полоза слышится. Полные голода очи-золото в пол-лица. Он зовет меня вниз: «Родная, спустись, Обниму в тридцать три кольца!»

[maskedcrawford]

Lips of an Angel

G-Dragon x Reader

Summary: After a fight with your current boyfriend, you call your ex.

Warnings: Angsttttt, cheating on both parts.

A/N: In NO way shape or form do I condone cheating. This is a FICTIONAL story, and doesn't represent GD in any way, he's just a character in the story. You can probably guess the song that sort of inspired the story.

Requests are OPEN

Jiyong is laying in bed next to his fiancé when his phone vibrates on the bedside table. He picks up the phone seeing your number splayed across the screen. His breath catches in his throat.

“Hello?” His voice is barely audible.

“Ji?” Your voice is soft spoken.

“Jagiya?” He slowly crawls out of bed, checking the clock to see that its just past midnight.

“Why are you calling me?” His voice is filled with concern. He can hear the sniffling on the other end of the phone.

“I missed you, Jiyong.” He involuntarily shutters at the way you say his name.

“Don’t say that,” he whispers, but doesn’t mean it.

“You don’t miss me?” you ask him innocently.

“Sometimes,” he breathes as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “Sometimes yeah. But we both moved on,” he tries to explain it.

“Did we?” you sniffle again.

“Why are you crying?” He can hear you move around, a door opening on the other side of the phone.

“We had a bad fight,” you sigh as you sit in the car in your drive way. He sits back in his chair, keeping an eye on his bedroom door.

“What happened?”

“It’s complicated, and I really don’t want to talk about him,” your voice drops to a level of seduction.

“Y/n,” he sighs.

“If you don’t want to talk, hang up,” You say simply, “I’m not forcing you to do anything.” You take your bottom lip between your teeth as you hear silence for a moment on the other end of the phone.

“Ji?”

“I’m here,” he sighs.

“Meet me at our old place?”

“I’ll be there in 10.” Jiyong says before grabbing the car keys. You two meet at the park, an old tree in the back of it, surrounded by others so its hidden and secret. You reach the tree first, seeing your initials carved into it with a heart. It's been there since the previous summer, when you swore Kwon Jiyong was the man you'd someday marry.

“Why are we here?” His voice is quiet as he walks up to you and, boy, was he a sight for sore eyes. His eyes automatically find the carving and he feels an ache in his chest.

“I dreamt of you,” you say quietly, “I dreamt of you and us and what it was like,” you trail off staring at the ground. He doesn’t say anything; he just stares at you trying to read the situation.

"I dreamt of what it could be," your voice cracks a bit at the end of your sentence.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he whispers.

“But you came of your own volition.” You remind him.

“Do you ever think about me? Us?” you know it sounds desperate but that doesn’t make a difference to you right now.

“I’ve dreamt of you,” he admits. You slowly inch your way forward to him, both of your faces inches from one another.

“My girl’s at home, y/n.”

“And yet I know you wish it was me,” you say as you search his features in the moonlight. He doesn’t deny it. He can’t. He knows the passion the two of you shared isn’t the same as what he has now.

“She’s good for me,” he tries to reason. You nod, not moving away or forward.

“Does he even know we’re here or that you called me?” You shake your head no and Jiyong can feel the heart beat in his chest accelerate.

“We aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Then why are we meeting in the middle of the night?” His brow is quirked at you.

“I just needed to see you,” you runs your hands up and down his arms, landing on the tops of his shoulders.

“I,” you sigh as his hands move to your waist.

“We never even properly said goodbye,” you pout with desperation in your voice.

“Y/n,” he says as if he’s warning you, or maybe himself, as he pulls your closer, your faces centimeters apart. He looks at your lips and you look at his, the two of you momentarily forgetting you're out in public, and your lips meet for a soft, deliberately slow kiss. Your hands fist his shirt as his arms wrap around you, pulling you just a little closer. You savor his taste, mint, whiskey and a slight hint of cigarette smoke. It’s been your kryptonite since that first kiss he planted on you after your first date.

“I love her,” he breathes against your lips, almost like an apology.

“I know,” you say before pulling him in for another kiss, this one rougher and more passionate, your teeth lightly knocking together, his hands roam your body, and goosebumps appear. His touch is like lightening, the way it pricks your skin.

“You love him,” he says after the two of you part.

“No, I don’t,” you admit sheepishly.

“You just had a fight, that’s,”

“I don’t, Jiyong,” you cut him off.

“I don’t love him. I can’t love him. Not after what he did.” You say quietly. His hands cup your cheeks and he moves your face so it’s facing his.

“What did he do?” His eyes hold a fire that you hadn’t seen in ages, a fierce protectiveness in them.

“He shook me when I tried to ask about a girl in his phone that sent him nude pictures. He said I was crazy, that weren’t any pictures even when I showed them to him. He accused me of getting nudes just to fight with him.” Jiyong sighs and pulls you in for a hug. His rests on yours as you embrace him back.

“God, you’re making this hard,” he sighs while closing his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper in his chest. You know this can’t end well. You know he loves his girlfriend, but part of you just needed him, even if it was just for a moment. The two of you sit down by the trunk of the tree in the silence of the night, resting against one another.

“Sometimes I wish she was you,” he admits suddenly. You look over at him and he’s staring at the moon, the night wind ruffling through his hair.

“We never really moved on,” you scoff shaking your head. The memory of that last fight playing through your head. It was over something so stupid, so small and petty.

“I still love her,” he tries to defend.

“Then why are you here with me, knowing damn well if she knew you were here she’d be crushed,” you ask honestly.

“You sounded like you needed help," his shoulders slump.

“You didn’t have to come,” he peers down at you, the way the moonlight catches your face makes you look innocent and small compared to him.

He withdrawals his arm from around your shoulder.

“I know,” he says as he stands up. You watch him, prepared for him to make his choice.

“I should get back, before she wakes up.” He scratches the back of his neck as you stand up.

“One last time?” you ask as you wrap your arms around his neck. He allows you to pull him down for one last kiss, one that says everything for the both of you.

“I love you, Jiyong,” you say when your foreheads rest together.

“I know,” he says before tearing himself away from you.

Comment if you want to be tagged in future fics❤️

Masterlist

Part 2

[inkly-heart]

Song- margø - r.i.p.

[kittenlittle24]

Hiya,

I make up scenarios in my head and publish them online.

Started uni so very slow updates! I cross post everything on wattpad as well!

Thanks for all the love♥️

Pedro Pascal:

Take My Vitals

House M.D.:

Idiot

Colleagues

Sleepy Girl - narcolepsy and smut

Avoidance - mentions of miscarriage

Runaway

Chokehold

Fortnight - angst

Fortnight - part two

Guests

Cleopatra - angst

Roommates - smut

Picture this

Courthouse

Appendicitis

Career Day

Funeral

Mayfield

Requests are welcomed

More characters/shows may be added in the future.

[alastor-simp]

Slow Dance With You - Sylus x Fem Reader

♦︎ 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜- 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 ��� 𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

♦︎ 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎- 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎

♦𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜- 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚘, 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝙽109 𝚉𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝙰𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜

♦𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜- 𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝙼𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 2, 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘. 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 :)

♦𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝- 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 -> @adornedwithlight

"Yawnnnnn." Opening your mouth like a fish, you sounded out your boredom, as your body laid against the large leather couch in the living room. You were in the Onychinus base, located in the N109 zone, having been invited by Sylus himself to converse with one another, only for him to be called away for an important call, leaving you alone for a bit. It saddened you that he had to go, but you knew he was an important man, being the leader and all. The two of you had gotten closer ever since your first encounter in the N109 zone, with him erasing the man in front of you with his Evol. The way about him irked you, since you believed he was the cause for the explosion that killed your loved ones. It soon came to be that he was never the cause, making you feel extremely horrible for pinning it on him, the extreme hate for him evaporating without a trace.

He had declared the two of you as "besties", but over time, something else had sprouted between the both of you. His sassy remarks and cute nicknames were growing on you, face becoming flushed whenever he called you "kitten." His demeanor around you had changed as well, his once cold eyes filled with warmth whenever you were around, devilish smirk morphing into a kind smile that could melt your heart. The relationship between the two of you was becoming complicated, not so much friends but no lovers either, it frustrated you, wanting to become closer with him, yet fearing it at the same time since the both of you were enemies.

Stretching your legs, you removed yourself from the couch, heading towards the door, leading to the long hallway. You might as well go explore a bit, since sitting around doing nothing was getting tiring. There were many rooms in the base, each reflecting a lot of Sylus's personality, one room containing a gym where he worked out, another room filled with vinyls showing his love for music. Picking a random door, you grasped the handle, opening it slowly to peak inside.

The room was dimly lit, only source of light coming from the window and the lamp that was lit. Books were layered in stacks, on the floor and in the shelves. Various instruments were in random places in the room, spotting a violin and a beautiful elegant piano in the center

Stepping inside, you took the whole room in, until your eyes locked back onto the piano. It was crafted perfectly, figuring Sylus must have spent a fortune for a piano like this. Lifting up the board, fingers traced along the keys, pressing down to allow a note to echo throughout the whole room. It has been a while since you have ever played a piano before, remembering how much you enjoyed it when you were little. Sitting on the chair, you took a deep breath, hands hovering over the keys, until they pressed down, a soothing melody playing out. As you carried on playing, your body swayed with the music, mouth opening to sing.

🎶𝘚𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘴

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦?

𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷e

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶🎶

Finishing the last note, your song was finished, leaving you pleased. Sounds of clapping came from behind you, making you turn, seeing a tall figure standing at the door. It was Sylus leaning against the door frame, crimson eyes gazing at you while wearing his signature smirk. "Didn't know you could sing, kitten." Flustered that he had caught you, you turned away from him. "You never asked." You said, hands motioning to close the top board, covering the piano keys again. Footsteps thudded behind you, indicating that Sylus was walking closer. A hand had motioned to grab your chin, allowing him to observe you. "Acting shy now, are we?" He was teasing you, making you put your hands on his chest, pushing him back. "Stop messing with me." You said, eyes glaring at him. Appearing apologetic, Sylus patted your head, "I'm not teasing you, sweetie. Your singing was incredibly angelic. I quite enjoyed it" His eyes soften, hand going from your chin to trace your cheek. Blushing harder, you dropped your head down, feeling more embarrassed then before, "Thanks."

Sylus chuckled, his cold eyes staring at you warmly, something not many got to see when they met the Onychinus leader. Recalling the lyrics of the song, he had an important question to ask you. "So? Who is it?" Eyeing him with confusion, you pondered what he meant. Noticing your confusion, Sylus decided to expand his question, "Who is the person you want to slow dance with, sweetie?" Oh, that's what he meant, the only answer you could provide him was a shrug, saying the song wasn't really dedicated to anyone, just something you came up with in the moment. Sylus, removing his hands from you, stood straight, eyes looking down at you. "Well, do you want to?" Sylus bowed, hand held in front of you, waiting for you to take it.

His actions stunned you, not expecting him to do this. "You want to slow dance? With me?" Sylus narrowed his eyes, "Do you see someone else here in the room, sweetie? Besides, it wouldn't be the first time we danced." Recalling the mission from the past, you remembered that you had slowed dance before, but that was part of the mission, wasn't it. "That was different back then...um..." Unable to word how you felt, you casted your eyes down. His narrow eyes soften, "Well this won't be like back then, and I want to dance with you." Looking back at him, you saw how tender his gaze was, showcasing how sincere he was. Pushing back the feelings of unease, you agreed, placing your hand in his.

Smiling further, Sylus pulled you closer, hand placed against your waist, face getting closer to his chest. You flushed, but kept it cool, motioning one of your hands to his shoulder. His Evol had appeared, flowing to a record player that was on the other side of the room, allowing soft classical music to play. The both of you then began to sway to the rhythm, yet you were a bit tense, not being a really good dancer, afraid you would step on his shoes. "Heh, relax kitten. It's just you and me here." Sylus gave you a sincere smile, hoping it would be enough to calm you down. "Sorry....I don't want to step on your shoes." You looked down below, monitoring your feet, hoping they wouldn't step on top of his. Stopping for a second, he inched his face closer, forehead pressing against yours. "My shoes are not important right now. The only thing important is the both of us dancing together."

Your heart felt like it was gonna beat out of its chest, butterflies fluttering inside your stomach. Only he could make you feel like this. Smiling up at Sylus, you nuzzled your forehead back against his, causing him to chuckle. The dancing continued, the tense feelings disappearing without a trace. Leaning in, you placed your head against his chest, wanting to be closer to him, allowing you to hear his heartbeat. Sylus didn't utter a word at your actions, smiling more at how adorable you were, his hand on your waist pulling you closer. After awhile, the record player had ceased playing, yet the two of you remained in the same position, slow dancing to your heart's content, never wanting it to end

-END-

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Treat Me

~ requested: song lyric prank while he's out with his friends

joe burrow x gf!reader

TW: MDNI 18+ | dom!Joe, mentions of sex, language, spanking, body worship, Joe being done lol

“Thank You TikTok” | Main Masterlist

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

╭┉┈◦ೋ•◦❥•◦ Next Fic <3

~ why does picking a pictures/gifs always take more time than making the fic?

[ponderingmoonlight]

Darlin', can I be your favorite?

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: In a world full of death and tortue, wouldn't it be the easiest to seduce a man who is able to protect you at any cost? Ryomen Sukuna definetely is exactly that. Now, the seduction part...

Warnings: no really deep plot, just some teasing and a little bit of spice here and there, language, reader trying to seduce Sukuna with literally everything lol

Inspired by the song "favorite" by Isabel LaRosa

Your mission was clear since the first time you saw him in action, felt how strong he is: Get Sukuna to fucking adore you.

It might sound ridiculous to the untrained ear. Sukuna, the king of curses, the most frightful creature walking on this planet? To even consider you’d be able to warm his heart is worth a laughter. You know exactly how all the others would react when they hear your wild plan to seduce him, to get him to catch feelings for only you.

But what better defense than having the king of curses by your side? This fucking world is nothing but a battlefield and as a jujutsu sorcerer, you’re in the middle of it. Day in day out you risk your life in order to safe others. And even though it might sound tempting to simply haunt after Gojo Satoru, it’s not the same.

No, you want Ryomen Sukuna and no one else.

Your heels click against the floor as you make your way through Shibuya’s train station, Sukuna’s fingers lying in your purse comfortably. What better way to catch a glimpse into his heart than giving him back those? Well, to be exact you don’t have a set plan apart from getting him to like you. After all, love can’t be forced, right?

Well, that skin tight dress paired with those high heels you chose for today might do that, though.

“Now, where are you Yuji?”, you mumble to yourself, eyes darting around the worn-down area.

There is no doubt in the fact that a fight occurred here not long ago. The air still smells like blood and sweat, the wall is still hot from an enormous impact. But who? Was it Yuji? You follow a trail of blood with your hips swinging from side to side. You just need to find him, need to seduce the king of curses. This is your best chance to not croak in this shitty job.

Your heels stop in their tracks.

A tuft of pink hair rests against the entrance of the rest room, so minor that you almost missed it.

Almost.

You walk towards the beat-up boy while casually inspecting him. He’s definitely alive, but barely. Yuji’s whole face is covered in multiple cuts and bruises. Who on earth did he fight against? And where is that other person? No, it’s not your responsibility to think about that right now. With a swift motion you open your purse and reveal those oh so deadly fingers.

“Now be a good boy and swallow”, you purr.

Your hand grabs his neck and yanks his head upwards while you carefully feed Yuji Sukuna’s fingers. Please, let this work. You are tired to the brim of running away, of fighting curse after curse each and every day. How about a peaceful life with Sukuna by your side? Fuck Jujutsu High, fuck Satoru Gojo. You don’t want to die before you were even able to live properly.

“Get your hands off me, human.”

For a moment, your heart skips a beat. Just one look into his red gleaming eyes and suddenly so matured face is enough for you to realize that this isn’t Yuji anymore. No, the person you are sitting on with your hand wrapped around his neck is none other than Ryomen Sukuna.

Finally.

“Oh, you’re awake. That went smoother than I thought”, you reply with a cheeky grin, not moving an inch away from him like he told you to.

“Who the hell are you, brat?”

He has definitely seen you before, you are a jujutsu sorcerer without any doubt. But why are so damn close, why does your hand wrap so delicately around his neck? Your dark eyes rest on his face unpromising, lashes hanging into your orbs seductively. What’s that supposed to be?

“My name’s whatever you make it. But how about wife?”

Sukuna isn’t able to move, let alone speak. Did you really introduce yourself to the king of curses like that? He shouldn’t waste any time, wring your neck the way you deserve it, dissolve you into tiny pieces. Who the hell do you think you are to speak to him like that? You, a puny woman? Not even the fact that you reunited him with a few of his missing fingers is enough to spare your life.

But why…Why does he still sit there like he did before, allowing your hand to rest against his neck? Why is he unable to give you a sharp answer like he always does?

“I am the king of curses”, is the only thing he’s able to press out.

“And I’ll be your girl. Deal?”

He lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, eyes scanning your features up and down. You do have a pretty decent face for a human, your delicate eyes keeping him trapped. That confidence dripping from each and every pore of yours, the way your body is so near that he’s able to hear your blood circulate…

“What the hell are you talking about, stupid girl? If I wanted to, I could kill you without even flinching. Now get off me and run for your life.”

When Sukuna finally regained his threatening voice again, he expected your heart to shiver, your body to stumble backwards until you run away. But instead, you move even closer and dare to sit on top of him, gleaming eyes now staring him into the ground while your naked thighs rub against his pants.

“But you didn’t. Think I must be your favorite.”

The fact that he didn’t kill you right on the spot when you disobeyed his order is enough proof that your plan is actually working. Yes, you managed to confuse the king of curses, to arouse his interest. Now the only thing that’s left is seducing him.

“You are annoying as hell. Now get off me, I have some work to do”, he barks back at you.

His hand grabs your wrist roughly and removes your grip around his neck. But instead of simply throwing you off him, he holds your arm in place while keeping only inches of distance.

Oh, his lips are so close that you are literally able to taste them. Just one movement, one innocent flinching of your hips above his and the gap between you both is closed.

“Are you trying to seduce me, dumb girl?”, he breathes out.

He does it so well, keeping himself cool and composed while his mind races back and forth with your intoxicating smell penetrating his nose. In his long life, there was never a woman who actually tried to seduce him. After all, he’s the king of curses, so strong because of the fact that he never felt love or affection for anyone in all those years. He’s heartless, cold, a menace. Why would a woman ever get the idea of showing him affection? He came here to kill, to destroy this fucking city and make that brat suffer.

But now there’s you.

And apparently you couldn’t care less about the fact that he’s the king of curses.

“Actually, I am”, you purr, your free hand beginning to draw small circles onto his chest.

“Why would you do something so fucking stupid?”

“I mean, you’re the strongest, right?”

He has to blink a few times, the way you look at him as if he’s the dumb one catching him completely off guard.

“I’m the king of curses”, he reminds you all over again.

“And with being your favorite, you take me places-“

“What the fuck are you talking about?”, he interrupts you roughly.

You roll your eyes in sheer annoyance, nails now digging into his chest.

“Make me your wife so I don’t die”, you finally blurt out.

Is this the reason behind your questionable action? He could have killed you right on the spot and just one look into your gleaming orbs tells him that you know that all too well. And still, you risked your life for him to protect yours. Were you really so sure you’d be able to seduce the king of curses with a lousy dress and some high heels?

“Why would I do that?”

Enough playing. He should behead you right on the spot before torturing you for the time you wasted. You aren’t even worthy to breathe the same air as him, let alone being this close to his body.

But…Why isn’t he able to simply throw you off, then? Why is he even questioning what you’re up to, replaying your words over and over in his mind?

“Because I’ll let you taste-“

Your mouth is so close to his ear that your hot breath caresses his skin while the filthiest thoughts leave you with ease. His eyes grow wider and wider with each passing second, disgusted but at the same time…

“Enough”, he hisses through gritted teeth while grabbing your shoulders roughly.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Aren’t you at least a little invested? I have a lot to offer”, you reply, ignoring his last question elegantly.

The war inside his head makes him forget that he’s actually out on a mission for a moment. You…you are so different from all those other jujutsu sorcerers, risked your puny life so that he eventually watches over you. How ridiculously brave, how fucking stupid. But still, when your gleaming eyes rest on his face like that, that oh so cheeky grin plastered on your face you make him wonder. A wife, his favorite?

Before he’s able to think straight again, a wave of freezing mist darts towards you at neck-breaking speed. His heart skips a beat, eyes darting towards Uraume who fixates you with hate dripping from every poor of her warped face.

You won’t be fast enough. No jujutsu sorcerer except for Gojo Satoru himself is able to escape Uraume’s powers when surprised. If he doesn’t react, you’ll die. But isn’t that what he wants, that you finally vanish into thin air and leave him alone? You, the girl who just claimed him as her husband only because she doesn’t want to die.

“No.”

His body moves on its own. All of the sudden he finds himself standing in front of you, his hand deflecting Uraume’s Frost Calm with ease.

“Don’t you dare to hurt her, Uraume.”

You can’t believe it, breath getting stuck in your throat. He really did save you. Even though all you did was purring at him, trying to convince him with sugary words, Ryomen Sukuna stood up for you and defended you against one of his. Out of instinct, you push your wobbly legs off the ground, excitement filling you to the brim. With that oh so cheeky smile, you wrap your arm around his and eye the person in front of you up and down innocently.

“But she…she is a human being, Master. She’s a weakling, one of your enemies”, Uraume breathes out.

“Who allowed you to speak to your Master like that? Get out of my sight and do what you were taught to.”

You watch in awe as the person standing in front of you crumbles, their hateful gaze almost piercing through you like a knife until their gone as fast as they came.

“So, I really am your favorite, huh?”, you hum.

“Shut up brat, I’m the only one who can kill you. Now get going, I have a lot of work to do.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy