#and a show would really need to pop off for that to happen

[on-the-clear-blue]

Danny, staring up at Tim, who currently Robin: okay...so this isn't what it looks like.

Tim, giving dead pan glare: so you arnt breaking into Drake Manor?

Danny, shoulders dropping: okay yeah it's totally what it looks like...but not because you think!

Tim, sighing slightly: so you arnt homeless and thought that since Timothy Drake was recently adopted by Bruce Wanye, and both of his parents are dead you can just move in and live here?

Danny, blinking owlishly: I mean, yeah? I mean, not homeless, and I didn't even know that dude got adopted, like good for him, hope that he is safe and shiz, sucks that he parents died and all but not here to squat dude.

Tim, raising a single eyebrow: then why pray tell are you here?

Danny, kicking at the ground a bit: so like...ugh, so I might be um like...a...fudge what's the word...ah! Psychopomp? Like I am a dude that helps like people's ghosts pass and like keeps em happy.

Tim, squinting behind his mask: the only person that died here is Jack Drake and I assure you, his soul would not be happy going to where he deserves to be.

Danny, holding up his hands: wow lot of misplaced aggression there boy wonder...no I ain't here for him, like him and his wife did like...so much tomb raiding they would make the Victorians jelly. I am here cus they stole some dudes shit and he wants it back...like yesterday.

Tim, tilting his head: so you are here to steal an artifact.

Danny, popping the P sound: Yup, something about some guys clay tablet, he liked keeping his hate mail for some reason, said this one was about how he shorted some dudes iron? Or was it copper... my Mesopotamian isn't the best.

Tim, eyes widening, because he knows *exactly* which tablet he is talking about: Oh...yeah no bro, you seem chill but I really can't let you have that so why don't you just like...walk away and I won't be forced to do something kay?

Danny, frowning: Sames dude, up until that .y guy cus like...I *really* wasn't asking...

Tim, sighing as he extends his bo staff: Try and just like, not hold a grude yeah? Don't need a new villain...

Danny, pulling out an ecto gun and turning it on: I don't know man...I feel like we have good banter.

(They fight, Tim is still training so he is a bit sloppy, and Danny isn't shooting to kill, so it's more of them playing cat and mouse throughout Drake Manor, it ends with Danny stealing the tablet but having to leave the ecto gun, which gets broken when he escapes)

Tim, panting as he watches Danny flee: Fuck...is this what B feels after fighting Catwoman?

---

Bruce, rubbing his temples as Tim explains why he was late for training: You tried to apprehend an unknown, with a weapon of an unknown source and power...in the home of your secret identity?

Tim, looking properly chastised: God...yes that happened...he wasn't that bad honestly...was pretty witty.

Bruce developing a twitch in his eye: No.

Tim: No? No what.

Bruce, glaring hard at his adopted son: No falling in love with a villain.

Tim, looking scandalized now: Oh? What is this? Hypocrisy thy name is Bruce Wayne!

Bruce's glare turns into a batglare: Ten laps around the cave and fifty bo staff katas...no villains!

---

Danny becomes Tim's rogue, but not really, most of their battles are more each other showing off their new gear/moves they learned.

Danny also is only using tech that his parents made and he upgraded since he really doesn't want to go ghost in front of *Robin*, who is totally not his crush, and the only reason why he won't is because batman would 100% be on his ass.

Danny, pulling a massive creep stick with a nail driven through it out of seemingly nowhere: The new and approved Creep Stick! This time with nail to add tetnus damage!

Tim, watching as 'The Inventor' escapes once more: I hate seeing him leave but by God do I love watching him go...Damn should have turned on the camera just so I can see it again.

Barbara chiming in: Keep the main line PG Robin.

Batman, through coms: Hn...we shall be having words when we get back to the cave

Tim, sipping a soup that The Occultist made: "So like...why were you even here?

---

When the Titans tower incident occurs, Tim could only watch in awe as the Inventor, not only comes in from the ceiling with a literal metal chair, and then continues to beat up the guy with a bad Robin cosplay.

Danny, panting as he holds up the chair again: Back I say! Back! My blorbo!

Jason, seething as he actually hisses at this random teen that appeared out of nowhere, scurrying away while cradling his broken arm: You shall rue the day! Jason Todd was here bitches!

Tim, staring up at Danny, face a bloody mess and an adoring look in his eyes: omg he stalks me, this is must what the other guys felt when I did it!

They don't really start dating, it's much more Danny breaking into Tim's house and just not leaving.

Tim, watching as his "arch enemy" is sprawled across his couch, bucket of ice cream in one hand, spoon in another, phone balanced between his ear and shoulder, pants and socks tossed haphazardly across the living room and just chilling in his boxers: Now wait a damn minute.

Danny, pausing while looking up from his ice cream (which is actually Tim's, since the boy is rich and buys the good shit), pointing his spoon accusatorily at Tim: Your fucking late Mister! Drag race started half an hour ago and we agreed to watch it together!

Tim, blushing under the Robin mask: Sorry case got good and- wait wait wait, when did we agree to watch drag race together?

Danny, rolling his eyes: when I made breakfast this morning? I even gave you extra strong coffee for your solem swearing that you would be here.

Tim, thinking back to earlier: I just...remember a bright white orb giving me a mug and a plate of food...

Danny, scoffing: this is why I need to drug you to get to sleep more often. Now take off your gear and get over here, they about to choose who shall sashay away!

Tim, nodding slowly: Hope it is that one queen from last episode, that lio sink didn't have any- wait! Ugh you keep distracting me! When did you fucking move in? I don't even know your name!

Danny with a spoon just an inch away from his mouth: Jazz? Yeah I uhh...I gotta call you back...(clicks hang up on his phone) Your joking right? For the shits and gigs?

Tim, shaking his head slowly: No shits, not a single gig my dude, 100% honest.

Danny, who had just arrived this morning since his parents are renovating because Fenton HQ is a glaring OSHA violation, but also who's middle names are "commit to the bit" and "Gaslight GateKeep Girl boss" : Babe we have been dating for like, *months*...d-do ou really not remember?

Tim, existential crisis made manifest: Oh no...I have been mind wiped.

Danny, astounded that worked: Baby I am so sorry...

They "date" for like a week before Danny starts feeling bad that he tricked Tim (who he finally got to see maskless, he had to stop his heart to not show any outward reaction to that, cus like hell he is cute) and wants to come clean but he honestly never had seen Tim more happy nor more healthy.

Danny, sitting across Bruce at the Manor: S-So um...like yeah we um...met at a science convention? My um...my parents were show casing stuff and like...we met there?

Bruce, eyes narrowing because that sounded like a lie: Hn.

Dick, happy that Tim finally felt comfortable to bring his "boyfriend" to dinner: B stop glaring! Your going to scare off Timmy's Bf! God you weren't this bad when I brought over Roy that one time.

Bruce doesn't stop glaring, and it's making Danny even more nervous: Um I uh...need to use the bathroom one sec...

Tim moves to guide him but Alfred waves him to sit down: You really must eat Master Timothy, I did make your favorite today. I shall guide Mister Fenton to the lavatory.

Alfred does indeed lead Danny from the dining room, but the second they are far enough the old butler suddenly has a shotgun in hand, skin suddenly a pale blue and objects around the parlor turning green and floating: While they do try and see the best in others, I do not Phantom, now I must ask you to kindly leave and never contact Master Timothy every again. I shall not let my charge fall for such as the likes of you.

Danny blinking at how he was addressed, a sudden ghostly blue mist escaping his mouth: Oh shit.

They have a ghost fight, all while comically popping in and out of the dining room, making excuses for whyvthe other is gone.

It ends when Tim, finally fed up with why his boyfriend is taking so long opens the door only to see him duking it out with Alfred, fully gone ghost and was loosing.

Such leads to confessions of lies, real feeling and why Alfred has been able to be a spry 60 even though he fought in WWI and it is very much the mid 2010s.

(Danny and Tim do end up together, this time with no lies about a mind wipe, and get Kon and Bart to join their polycule later on)

[starsinthesky5]

Do you ever think songbird gives her opinion on football? Like she has full-on conversations and talks joes ears off when they're watching games and Joe is just like😍🤤 he thinks it's the hottest thing ever. Like I can imagine songbird going around the kitchen while making dinner and talking about the current situation with the Bengals and Joe is standing there DROOLING over her UGH

last one for today <3 you’re lucky it was my day off ;) this was so fun to answer because…hell YES. he’s so obsessed with her and when she talks ball? oh my gawd.

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

he’s absolutely feral for it.

joe knew from the jump that she was a football fan—hell, that was one of the first things that drew him to her. she wasn’t just some casual sunday watcher; she lived for this. grew up on it. could recall games from a decade ago like they just happened. even had baby photos in little onesies from her favorite team growing up.

but what really got him? the way she talks about it.

they’re in the kitchen, cooking dinner together—well, she’s cooking, and joe’s just hanging around, pretending to help while really just waiting for her to hand him some kind of easy task. and she’s talking, bouncing around the space, barefoot in one of his sweatshirts, sleeves shoved up as she preps ingredients.

“i’m telling you, joe, if they don’t start utilizing the tight ends more, the offense is gonna stay too predictable. they need to mix it up—get some quick, high-percentage throws going, especially with how much pressure you’re getting. and if they don’t fix that run game soon? we’re gonna be dealing with the same struggles we had last year. it’s a cycle, and it has to break otherwise i’m gonna rip zac a new one,”.

joe is standing there, arms crossed, leaning against the counter, staring at her like she just invented oxygen.

because she’s not just repeating what she’s heard on some sports show—she knows this game. she’s analyzing it, breaking it down in real-time.

and holy fuck it’s sexy.

“babe,” he murmurs, not even realizing he said it out loud.

she glances up, mid-sentence, an eyebrow raised. “what?”.

he shakes his head, blinking a few times like he’s trying to snap himself out of it. “nothin’. just—,” he exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw, smirking a little. “you’re so hot when you talk ball,”.

she snorts, tossing a chopped bell pepper at him. “you’re an idiot,”.

he catches it, pops it in his mouth, and just smiles so cutely, because yeah, maybe he is. maybe he’s whipped. maybe he’d let her talk about nothing but football for hours if it meant getting to watch her like this—focused, passionate, all lit up with energy.

he steps closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pressing a slow kiss to the side of her neck. “nah,” he murmurs, voice low. “just obsessed,”.

—

she talks his ears off at any given chance. monday nights, thursday nights, and as usual…sundays. she just can’t help herself and needs to ramble about her thoughts while watching, a habit she’s had for years. and who better to ramble to then mr. hunky football man himself?

joe had seen plenty of passionate football fans in his life, but nothing compared to her.

they’re on the couch, the sunday night game on, her feet tucked under his thigh as she leans forward, eyes locked on the screen like her life depends on it.

and she’s going off.

like off.

“oh, come on! why would you call that on third and short? the box is stacked, it was so obvious they were gonna crash the line. they should’ve play-actioned that shit—easy first down,”.

joe doesn’t even care about the game anymore. he’s watching her. watching the way her brows knit together, the way her hands move as she talks, the way her voice rises and falls with pure, unfiltered passion.

and then she hits him with, “babe, did you see how they disguised that coverage? pre-snap it looked like man, but then they bailed into a deep zone and completely baited the quarterback—textbook disguise, i swear, if we don’t start running more of that, i’m gonna lose my mind,”.

and he’s just sitting there, staring at her like she just told him the meaning of life, like his whole world has been rocked.

“god, you’re hot,” he breathes, not even thinking about it.

she barely looks at him, too absorbed by what was happening on the screen. “i know,”.

and fuck, that does something to him.

she’s still talking, still dissecting the game, pointing out mismatches and schemes and coaching decisions—meanwhile, joe is just sitting there, absolutely feral, running a hand down his face like he’s trying to contain himself.

she’s a walking, talking dream to him. because it’s not just that she likes football—it’s that she understands it. deep, real, down-to-the-details understands it.

and she cares. she feels it.

he swears he could marry her right now.

instead, he just shakes his head, grinning, squeezing her thigh as he leans in close, voice all gravely in her ear.

“keep talkin’, baby,” he murmurs. “prettiest analyst i’ve ever heard,”.

and when she rolls her eyes but still keeps going?

yeah. he’s gone.

[bbearthyy]

Hey! I noticed you needed some inspo, so here’s a request!

JJ Maybank x female reader (smut!)

Take this wherever you’d like, but the reader is lounging somewhere reading her book when JJ makes his own plans. He loves her nipples, and plays/sucks/fucks them while she’s reading <3

yeah so i took this and ran

(no title cus i cant think of one rn😭)

a/n: omg yes. i am the biggest advocate for mamas boy jj and i just KNOW that after a bad day he’d come home and go straight to you to suck em. UGH anon i love you

none of my works are proofread!!

cw: boob play? idk what the proper term is, titty fuckin!, bsf! jj, i think that’s it

nobody remembered when it happened exactly, but it was part of the normal now for the pogues. jj would inevitably have at least one breakdown a week, and you were always there, waiting with open arms (and bra.)

nobody really remembers, but maybe it started two summers ago?

~~~

the rumble of jj’s bike filled the otherwise quiet atmosphere, popping the bubble of peace and yet rebuilding another. you lounged in the hammock, one leg hanging off to keep it rocking, as you reread your favorite book for the nth time. your eyes stayed on the page in front of you as your best friend stomped over. finally, his heavy foot steps came to a stop, right beside the hammock.

you took your time to finish the sentence you were reading, before calmly raising your head to look at jj. “hey, honey,” you softly mumbled, spotting the tears on his cheeks and immediately changing the reading tone you’d originally brought forward. “rough day?” the blonde just dropped his head, shaking it silently. “wanna..,” he mumbled, his voice so quiet the rest of the sentence was unintelligible.

“what, j? i can’t hear you sweet boy.” he grumbled, frustrated hands tugging on his hair. “i can’t say,” he said, voice just slightly louder, “it’s embarrassin’.” you were quick to scold him for this. “jackson james maybank, i have known you my whole life. we used to take baths together as kids and we’ve been each others first everything. nothing you say could ever be embarrassing, not with me.”

after taking a deep breath to compose himself, the blonde spoke up. “can i like, lay with you?” appalled by the question you immediately cut him off, “jj we cuddle all the time wha-“ but he wasn’t having it. “not like that,” he spoke up, “i meant like, i wanna, ugh.” his head dropped once more, frustration running in his veins, “can i just show you?”

your eyebrow raised with suspicion, but you nodded. jj slowly laid himself on top of you, snuggling close in the hammock. “i wanna,” he mumbled once more. jj rested his head on the left side of your chest, as his left hand slowly moved up your shirt. you were confused, but laid still nonetheless, letting him explain himself.

eventually jj’s hand snuck its way into your bra, cupping your chest gently. a soft sigh spilled from his lips when he felt the warmth. “wanna do this,” he whispered, “but, but with my mouth.” it took a moment for you to respond, processing his words. “you wanna suck on my chest?” relief visibly flowed through the boy when you understood, his head nodding quickly.

“um, okay,” you mumbled, hesitance evident in your shaky voice. if jj could tell you were nervous he didn’t comment on it, simply sitting up enough that he could lift your shirt past your chest. something dawned on you, your hands covering his, “wait!” jj’s head snapped up, worry coating his features. “j, honey, we’re still outside,” you spoke softly, not wanting to worry the boy in his vulnerable state.

jj whined, wanting nothing to do with the idea of removing himself from you right now to go inside. “i can go under your shirt?” his whiny tone had you giving in immediately, just like he knew it would. you’d do anything for him. so you nodded, and jj excitedly pulled your shirt back down before sliding under it.

~~~

today, you and jj are resting on the couch outside the chateau, your shirt and bra long since removed. jj snuggled closer under the plush blanket, tongue swirling around your nipple before he latched on, sucking softly. his left hand held your other boob, the fingers on his right squeezing your hip every few seconds.

john b walked out of his home, eyes searching before they locked onto yours. the brunette came closer, crouching down beside the couch when he reached you. “he under here?” john b’s voice was quiet as he grabbed the blanket, you nodding in response. slowly, he pulled the blanket down just enough for jj’s head to be revealed. “hey bubba,” john b whispered, “i’m gonna go get supper, you wanna ride along?”

jj hated that idea actually. despised it. he was half asleep and you’d just gotten to the good part in the book you were reading aloud. so in response, jj simply closed his eyes, continuing to suckle. john b sighed at the silent denial, shaking his head with a chuckle before covering you with the blanket once more. “okay, i’ll be back.”

the brunette walked out as cleo and sarah were walking in, both giving you a smile and chirpy “hey!” as they went. eventually, when jj fell asleep, you removed him from yourself, knowing you’d have to show face at home before your parents reported you missing. giving the pogues a hug and a kiss each, you left, leaving a very angry jj behind.

which brought you to now. to be fair, you should’ve told the boy what your plans were instead of just leaving him, but you didn’t think it would warrant such a response. your plush comforter was warm beneath you, your hands shaking in their position above your head.

the only sounds filling the room were jj’s grunts and the slick sound of his dick sliding between your tits. his hands kept your tits pressed together, the only restriction keeping your hands pinned being his threat to ‘spank your ass raw’ if you moved them. “jay,” you whined, desperate to feel some stimulation after him abusing your chest.

“shut up,” jj’s gruff voice huffed, his breath hitching at the end. he was close, whines slipping through his lips solidifying the fact. you stuck your tongue out to help, his tip pressing against it with every thrust. “oh fuck!” the blonde cried out, release spilling across your chest and lips.

after taking a moment to catch your breath your hands finally moved, coming down to rest on jj’s thighs. “feel better, honey?” he just laughed, breathless, before collapsing next to you. “love you so much,” he mumbled, sleep soon taking over.

[deadhands69]

Karaoke: Jujutsu Kaisen

what happens when you go out to a karaoke bar frequented by Jujutsu Sorcerers and Curses?

Once more, I have no clue where in canon this is or what would need to happen for all of them to be in the same room and not kill each other. Anyways, you show up to a karaoke bar with your favs and here's what happens!

Satoru Gojo ♫ do you believe in love after love? ♫

Gojo is alllll over the stage and by that I mean running to every corner of the bar. If he does have a good singing voice, you'd never know it from tonight. He's singing ridiculously on purpose and using the weirdest voices he can come up with. None of the lyrics are right.

All this to get everyone else excited and out of their shells. They all laugh at him, but it works.

Songs: Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins, Believe by Cher, and Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley

Yuji Itadori ♫ don't go there 'cause you'll never return, I know you think of me when you think of her ♫

Yuji is the biggest cheerleader in the room! While he’s not the first to jump on stage and sing, he’s not shy about it. He’s also happy to join you onstage for a duet if you’re nervous.

Songs: R U Mine? by Arctic Monkeys, The Adults are Talking by The Strokes, and Dog Days by Florence + The Machine (also Welcome Home by King Diamond, not because I think he would but because I'd love to see that)

Nobara Kugisaki ♫ if you wanna run away with me, I know a galaxy and I can take you for a ride ♫

Nobara is so excited to be here, after all going to karaoke was her idea! She has four songs in already and is passing out papers, making sure you all put yours in as well.

She makes her way to the stage with a ton of energy! Nobara isn't quite dancing on the bar like Gojo, but she still puts on a show and has fun with it. Like Yuji, she'd also be happy to do a duet with you if you're nervous.

Songs: Levitating by Dua Lipa and Barracuda by Heart

Megumi Fushiguro ♫ please please please let me get what I want, lord knows it would be the first time ♫

Megumi doesn't really want to sing, but given the group, he gets pressured into it pretty quickly.

He nonchalantly walks up to the small stage and without much dancing, proceeds to sing the saddest songs he could find in the book without even realizing it. The energy of the crowd TANKS and there he is not fully noticing. Great voice though!

Songs: Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths, Hurt by Nine Inch Nails, and Mad World (the Gary Jules version)

Maki Zenin ♫ don't you ever say I just walked away, I will always want you ♫

Maki says she doesn't want to go out but secretly does. Sings a much cuter sweeter song that anyone expected then goes back to the table without saying a word about it. Don't worry, she's still having a lot of fun!

Song: Wrecking Ball by Miley Cyrus

Toge Inumaki ♫ salmon salmon saAAaaallmmmon ♫

Toge changes the lyrics to rice ball ingredients because of course he does. He has a surprisingly good voice but you're not sure if that's just the cursed energy hitting you and making you think that. 

Songs: Like a Prayer by Madonna and Africa by Toto

Aoi Todo ♫ I want you to want me, I need you to need me, I'd love you to love me ♫

Todo is also SO happy to be there. He's so excited to hype everyone up. Does a lot of duets with Yuji and dedicates anything close to a love song to Nobuko Takada.

Songs: Want You to Want Me by Cheap Trick, Jessie's Girl by Rick Springfield, and Girls Girls Girls by Motley Crue

Mahito ♫ yeeeAAAAaaaAaaaEeeeaaah it's a party in the U S Aaayy ♫

Mahito doesn't know any of the songs listed but he goes with it. It's silly. He puts in way too many songs and wanders off without showing up for all of them when his name is called.

Songs: What wouldn't Mahito sing? He mostly picks girly pop songs though.

Choso ♫ show me how you do it and I promise you I promise that I'll run away with you ♫

Choso is shy about it but opens up enough to sing a song as the night goes on. I think he'd have a great voice but he would probably still sound pretty timid on stage. Maybe if you encourage him, he might sing another one!

Song: Just Like Heaven by The Cure

Toji Fushiguro ♫ not about to see your light but if you wanna find hell with me I can show you what it's like ♫

Worm duet?? Or does the worm get the cowbell?

Songs: Don't Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult and Mother by Danzig

Sukuna came out briefly before realizing: no, he does not have any interest in this modern singing thing you’re all doing. He misses the Heian era when people did normal things like hunting their enemies for sport. The fact that none of you have been publicly executed for the crimes that are your voices is appalling to him.

He abruptly disappears as fast as he showed up, leaving Yuji massively confused while standing on stage looking like he forgot the lyrics for a few lines before trying to find his place again.

Yuta Okkotsu ♫ takkkkeee me home, I'll be gone iaddyyyaawoo hehehehe ♫

Yuta laughs more than he sings and keeps losing track of where he's at in the song. It doesn't help that Toge keeps jumping in to encourage him (the two of them definitely picked their songs together!)

Later in the evening, he gets really drunk and takes Rika out for a duet, sorry everyone - time to call it a night. 

The karaoke bar is closed.

Songs: Take On Me by a-ha and Surrender by Cheap Trick

jjk masterlist

taglist: @kennys-partner @moonstonejpg @wealltiredherelol @crowned-gemini

[nugatorysheep]

If there WAS a show made i imagine several things would be changed (some for the better some for the worse)

I can see CyFy getting a lot of alterations to make him more, uh, *digestable* for lack of a better term. because he's very loud and proud about his blackness in a unique way I've never seen before, and while I love that for him and he's one of my favorite characters, networks who don't wanna get cancelled would likely pull back on his reins so to speak. Tone him down a little or take his pride in a different direction. his DID element msy also get tweaked depending on what kind of sensitivity writers they get on board and depending on how that is handled i could vibe with it. Like I said I enjoy him a lot as-is but I can understand why others may find him offensive in some ways

I also can see the characters being made older (namely Lev who would be a challnge to get a good actor for thats actually 13) which is a change that wouldn't bother me too badly. As long as it was still clearly teens and not adults lmao

some characters may also just get cut altogether for simplicity's sake, or merged to be one character. depending on who that ends up being i can get behind the idea but it's a double edged sword

Some of the lore/tech stuff would DEFINITELY be changed because in 2024 it just doesn't make sense- the iChip Miracolina uses is a prime example haha, or the countinued existence of YouTube which is hilarious to think about that far in the future. And perhaps the wireless electricity which I think is mentioned offhandedly exactly one time ("back when electricity used to be transfered through wires")

And if diversity is ever a prime concern and keeping the characters book accurate is not, they may make some of the characters other races to sort of even out the cast, because it's very Caucasian leaning for the lead roles. Lev would likely be untouched since his blond hair and blue eyed appearance absolutely play into his character thematically but a lot of others could be racially swapped I think without much issue

Anyway. I don't really have a point with this post I'm just rambling do not take me seriously lmao

[heybaetae]

.

[tyrantwombat]

That said, as cool as the visuals are, they made the choking thing so dramatic again. I get the visual medium thing, and needing those high energy beats, but Sung Hyunjae is just so casually menacing about it in the novel and Yoojin just.

Barely registers it.

Can't be bothered.

[stopfunkinwmyheart]

So many agents come thru tha shoppe n they’re like “listen I need this thing that’s kind of like a nail but it’s not” and I’ll be like “a screw?” And they’ll be all “maybe I’m really not even sure” so naturally I take them to the screws. They’ll be all “yeah these are similar but I was talking about the smooth ones……” nails. U need nails.

[prael]

Day 1: Scandal

Aespa Karina x male reader smut

words: 4,260 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

They're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster. People scrambled in the aftermath, but the damage had been done, the proverbial milk spilt. And oh, did the milk spill alright. It sounds like everyone had tuned in right around the country. Hell, right around the world.

If they didn't catch it live, then they certainly caught the post-game replays.

There are a lot of those going around.

No amount of damage control could have prevented it from exploding all over the Internet and into every gossip rag imaginable. But damn it if her PR team hadn't tried to stop it anyway. They had gone on the offence—attacking everyone and anyone who had even so much as hinted at the incident. Filing every legal document they could just get it removed.

It doesn't matter. The damage is done. The ties are cut and you're both hung out to dry.

Well before it happened, there had been warnings. Karina was still fresh off the back of her first Dispatch leak. The two of them weren't even really dating. Two young, rich and hot adults were just fooling around, so once it hit the press and the online articles came in, she took the axe to that relationship right away. She could always find another dick to ride on.

That she did; your dick, and damn did she ride it.

It was a friend of a friend thing. You know one of those 'I showed this girl your picture and she wants to get to know you' things. To be honest, you thought it was a joke. Of course, you did. How often does some K-pop starlet want to have dinner with you?

Anyway, three months down the line and you're two and half months deep into, well, being deep into her.

Her apartment is nice. Her bed is nicer, or at least it is with her in it.

You spent night after night together doing every nasty, carnal thing she wanted. She loves it. You would come to realise she's a bit of a nymphomaniac—and you fucking love it. But, even still, you kept it casual. Kept it quiet.

Didn't work too well.

There was a close call, once.

You put it down to getting a little too comfortable. The guard slipped for just the briefest moment of weakness. Though, if anything, you would at least put part of the blame on the whole system. See, Karina can't catch a flight without the entire thing being documented. She arrives at the airport and they're all there waiting with cameras in hand to get the latest snap of her airport fashion as she comes out of the van. They know what flight she's on and the exact departure time, and then when she lands there's another group of fans waiting.

So it goes without saying, you two can't just waltz in there hand-in-hand. So you book the same flight, seated far enough away from her that no one would question a thing. You shouldn't speak, not until you're safely at the other end and in the privacy of the hotel room, but Karina is Karina.

So she texted you, this one time in the departure lounge. A twenty-minute window and directions to the toilets of the private lounge. There, in the small cubicle, you slipped down her jeans, turned her around, bent her over and made her feel good.

It was quick and messy. Nothing like how the sex would be in her hotel later that night. You had her cheek pressed against the door of the cubicle, your hand covering her mouth to stifle the noise, and your dick going balls deep in her hot pussy while her hand rubbed away at her clit. It was desperate and hungry—more the need to release the sexual tension than to enjoy it.

But damn was it fun.

She deepened the arch of her back and presented herself just that bit more for you and you watched every inch go inside her with each thrust. Watched as your cock spread apart those soft pussy lips of hers and vanished into the warm embrace of her body. Her ass shook as your hips slapped against it and eventually, her legs trembled so much that you had to wrap your arm around her waist to keep her up.

But when you came—and you came deep—someone entered the bathroom. Their presence was unknown until you heard the faucet run. For a brief, horrifying moment you thought it might be someone waiting to bust you.

A security guard or maybe a tabloid reporter ready to get their story. The scandal of the century? Not quite.

Just another passenger. They didn't even realise who they were next to as they washed their hands. But the idea that you both could've been caught, had Karina let that moan slip or if you hadn't just stopped pounding her against the door so hard that it rattled the hinges.

Afterwards, with your spent dick sliding out from between her tight thighs, it was something Karina whispered in your ear. She said, "That was close. We'll have to be more careful."

If only you knew just how careless she was about to be...

See, it was a pretty normal evening. She texted you a time to come over, and you took all the usual precautions. (There's a side door into the block and a service elevator that Karina made sure to get the passcode for.) Admittedly, you got there five minutes early, but it wasn't the first time it had happened, and since the first time, Karina made sure to leave a sock on the bedroom door just in case it happened again. She was streaming, you see, an Instagram live session. One of those things where the adoring fans get to listen to their idols talk about themselves, or their day, or sometimes with Karina, something a little out of the ordinary.

So you waited. A drink of water, sitting on her couch, and letting curiosity take over. You opened up her Instagram, watched her for a few minutes, and smiled to yourself because, as usual, she was simply being Karina. No topic, just rambling, but there were thousands watching anyway, because well, why wouldn't they?

A smile crept onto your face as you watched, knowing that she was in the next room, just looking that good, and soon enough you would be in there ravishing her. There were thousands upon thousands of other people, jealous of you without even realising you existed, who would give almost anything to be in your shoes—to be able to do the things you do to Karina. Fuck, some of them would probably sell everything they owned.

Then she started saying goodbye to people. Signing off, wishing them a good night, whatever. So you locked the phone and waited until she came down the hallway.

She was moving quickly, right towards you. Bare feet hitting the wooden floor in hurried little slaps. She jumped right into your lap without so much as a 'Hello', and she clamped her legs, clad in tight yoga pants, around your waist. She grabbed either side of your face and kissed you, a hand reaching back and pulling on the hair at the base of your skull as she did.

And it wasn't soft either.

It was fierce and aggressive. Her tongue forced its way into your mouth, pushing against your own, flicking over your teeth. She ground herself against the erection growing beneath her and breathed hot breath against your lips while biting down on the lower one.

"You," she gasped. "Take me to the bedroom... Now."

"Hi to you too," you joked, putting your arms under her butt.

She was so very easy to carry. Maybe because you had done it so many times before. But she had always been a light little thing, so slender apart from exactly the places you would want her to be big. It always made it so easy to pin her against the wall with her leg over your shoulder, to press her up against the shower and bounce her up and down on your cock while steam filled the bathroom. But mostly it was great because you could easily throw her down on the bed.

Tonight wasn't going to be any different.

Except it was, wasn't it? But neither of you knew that just yet.

As you walked toward her room, holding her gorgeous body up with nothing but a firm grasp on her ass, she kept whispering things to you. Whispered them right against your ear, her voice low and husky as she did. She told you about all the things that she wanted you to do to her. The things that she wanted to do to you. Like some raw, filthy script of a play long overdue to be performed.

"...and then I want you to put it right back in my pussy and cum in me again and again," she said it right as you pushed through the door. Look, Karina's room isn't that huge, but when you're dying to get your cock into her, going all the way to the bed seemed like such a pain when there was a perfectly good wall right there. You turned and pinned her against it.

There you two stayed for a while, locked in that embrace, kissing and nibbling. She wrestled your shirt off over your head while you peeled up her sports bra. You bent your head down to her chest and kissed along the valley between her breasts. Her soft skin warm against your lips, and you kept pressing them down on her, leaving faint wet marks until you reached one of those pert pink nipples. You cupped her tit and you sucked. Hard.

A little whimper of appreciation followed by a slight tremble through her body was the response.

You went from one to the other. Fingers caressing one and your mouth on the other, switching between them, never fully committing to either, keeping her guessing as to which nipple would feel the bliss next. Karina knew what she wanted, and she simply wouldn't wait. Maybe the rush to get fucked could be blamed for all of this.

See, while you sucked her tits, she pulled down her leggings and her underwear. Maybe it was desperation, maybe it was convenience, but she didn't even pull them past her knees. Instead, as you continued your adoration, she unbuckled your belt and let your trousers fall to the floor. Your underwear didn't last long either. She gave a couple of lazy strokes up the length of your cock, just enough for her to feel it getting hard. Enough for her to know you could give her what she needs.

She twisted between you and the wall and leaned against it; her tits pressing against the white paintwork, and she stuck out her ass. "Don't hold back," she instructed. "I need it."

For all the focus you gave her tits, Karina does have a hell of an ass.

So with her arms up above her head and grasping high, she looked perfect. The swell of her hips, the curve of her ass—it was just to be grabbed and slapped. Those legs looked fucking perfect, slightly muscled from hours of dance practice but still so thin and lean. And between them... fuck. If there's such a thing as a pussy so good it should win awards then Karina better prepare her speech.

You weren't gentle.

Gentle doesn't work for her. Gentle is boring. Normal. Vanilla. Karina's tasted it all before and she's bored. You won't remember the first time she said those words to you. She made you promise not to judge her but she told you exactly how depraved and slutty she really wants to be in bed.

So when she said, "Fuck me hard," you did exactly that.

Spit on your cock was enough to get it slick. You stroked the tip up and down across her waiting pussy a couple of times and found the right place. Then you slid it right inside her, letting it rest buried for just a moment before you pulled back. You didn't even go halfway before you thrust it right back into her. Right down to the balls. Deep as you can go.

A pleasured hiss passed over clenched teeth as her cheek pressed against the wall and she nodded, just once, telling you that she wanted more. You fucked her harder, feeling her hot insides clench at your cock. Her hips smacked against the wall with each thrust, the room echoing with the sounds of your flesh coming together. The squelch of her wet hole was barely audible over her cries. Cries that steadily increased in volume the longer you held her against the wall, the more aggressively you bucked your hips against her, the harder you drove your dick into her body.

"Don't stop!" she cried out as her legs shivered.

No danger of that.

Maybe you should have.

Karina was struggling. To not fall apart in your hands, to hold herself against the wall, but also just to keep breathing as the intensity of your deep pounding washed over her, making her shudder and shake in front of you. One of her hands flew down to between her legs. The tips of her fingers went in a circle around her clit.

But as much fun as taking her against the wall was, she would fall if you continued.

So you did what you knew you could so easily do, just threw her. Her quivering body collapsed onto her bed after a small stumble. Right into the one place in the room, she shouldn't be.

See, Karina was sitting just here, maybe ten minutes earlier. You were watching, on your phone. She had chatted and joked and waved goodbye, just where you were about to fuck her.

She clambered up the bed and onto all fours, looking back at you with lust-drunk eyes, urging you on, needing to be fucked some more. So you crawled right up behind her, took a grip of those beautiful hips and you slipped your cock back inside her.

One stroke and you bottomed out within her.

Two strokes and she began moaning again.

By the third, you were slamming her forward with each push.

The bed creaked in protest as you hammered yourself into Karina, keeping up with what she wanted as she pushed back at you, meeting every buck of your hips with equal force and speed. At least one orgasm tore through her body. You felt it in the way her body contracted around your thick shaft as you drove it deep inside her, but also heard it in the way she screeched through gritted teeth. Saw it as she clawed at the blankets, grabbing handfuls of material and pulling at them as her body tensed up.

"Cum," she pleaded with just the one word.

And that's what you did. Her little pussy made sure of it. Feeling her spasm around you, squeezing your throbbing cock so tightly that you couldn't resist but join her in ecstasy. So you flooded her sweet cunt, sending ropes of cum into her waiting body, painting her walls, feeling every inch of her pussy pulse as her body urged yours to give her everything it had. Her cries mingled with the heavy panting as you emptied your balls within her.

You couldn't keep it up. Fucking Karina sometimes feels too intense, takes so much energy out of you, makes your muscles burn. So you had to withdraw from her and rest back on your haunches, catching your breath, your heart racing. But Karina is Karina.

She turned around and before you could move, she had taken hold of your thighs and moved forward. Her lips wrapped around the tip of your glistening cock and began sucking on it. As her tongue rolled across the slit and along the underside, tasting your seed and her own juices combined. Her cheeks hollowed, eyes staring up at you from behind damp hair and you felt her moans reverberating through you.

How can she do this every time? How can she make you recover so quickly? Because you did. No sooner had Karina placed her head in your lap than you grew hard again. You were left fighting that war against conflicting desires: whether to push her off and have her again or keep the pleasure of having her mouth on you. Every swirl of her tongue across the sensitive parts of your cock, the feeling of her lips gliding along its length, her throat opening and the tightness taking your crown.

"Oh shit..." you groaned. "Are you trying to kill me?"

She didn't answer but you noticed her hips wiggle slowly side-to-side.

It wasn't long before she relinquished the grasp she had on your thighs and let you pull her into position. A roll onto her back. A pillow under her lower back. You hooked one leg over your shoulder while she held the other out wide, laying right on the edge of the bed. You sank into her again and again, rocking the entire bed with each thrust.

And how you only wish now that you had at literally any point taken a look to your right. Maybe you would have questioned why her phone was still there. Maybe you would have made her check the thing was actually off.

Of course, you know now the mistake that Karina made.

You pushed her down into the bed, pressing her leg against her chest as you fucked her. Fucked her deeply. You had changed the tempo now, switched to something slower, more powerful and purposeful. That load you left in her cunt made the whole thing a mess. You pounded into her and it spilt between you, running down her ass and soaking her bedding. Karina gasped as her second climax crashed through her.

Her phone caught it all.

Every minute.

When Karina came, so loud, so hard, so intense that she didn't know who or where she was, people were watching. Her fans watched. When she said your name as she stared up into your eyes with such gratitude, they were listening. And when you came for the second time, she made sure everyone could hear.

"I feel it," she whispered, her fingers digging into your arms. "I feel it. All of it. Give me more. Fill me."

She pulled at her thighs, spreading herself open and making you groan into the crook of her neck as your throbbing dick pulsed, unleashing another load of thick cum deep within her body, making another wonderful mess. Leaving her already soaked cunt saturated. Together you lay like that, two exhausted bodies wrapped in an embrace, your cock twitching, occasionally releasing a few drops inside her. Karina giggled.

"There's nothing better than that feeling," she groaned. "Nothing... better."

She looked right into your eyes as she said it.

"It's my favourite thing in the world."

So you kissed her, both of you falling into the tangled mass of sweat-soaked blankets while you stayed on top of her. She didn't want to let go, not yet, not while the closeness and warmth were shared. Your bodies pressed together with your softening cock still inside her until eventually you slipped out and came to lie beside her. She nestled up against your chest.

In the silence that proceeded, there was a vibration across the room. Your phone is still in your pocket, somewhere on the floor. You let it ring out, while you lay there, breathing heavily. Again it vibrated. "Ugh," you groaned, "Leave me alone."

"Is someone missing you?" Karina teased.

"Doubt it," you replied.

Karina let her hand trace patterns across your chest, moving slowly towards your hip. You knew the game. Get you hard again, and ride you into the middle of next week. It worked, too. Even though you protested, her hand wrapping around your shaft soon brought it back to life. Sensitive strokes had you squirming and groaning.

"Well, whoever it is will just have to deal with the fact you're mine tonight," she purred.

Then you heard an unusual noise. Another buzz. But not your phone. From somewhere else. But you paid it no attention as Karina got up from your chest, swung her leg over you and began lowering herself down onto you. What started as slow gentle fucking quickly progressed back to something far hungrier and desperate. Her nails dragged lines across your torso, your hands gripping tightly at her waist to steady her. You watched as your cum leaked out of her cunt and onto you as she rode.

You reached between her legs and scooped up a blob, bringing it to her lips.

"Lick it," you told her. "Taste it."

And she opened wide for your fingers and cleaned them up. "That's what you wanted?"

"Yeah. Tell me what it tastes like."

"Tastes like us," she moaned, fucking you faster, pushing you deeper.

Then she leaned back, making a show of the way she rolled her hips against you. Bouncing as she impaled herself on you. Her head rolled back and her eyes closed as another orgasm approached. It built slowly, the intensity growing higher and higher until she teetered on the edge, balanced between bliss and rapture. The way her tits bounced had you hypnotised. Focus locked on her. Ignoring the phone that continued to ring.

She was close. Really close. Riding you frantically. Her moans turned into short desperate gasps until she had no voice left. You heard the scream before and saw how hard she came, but now you had front-row seats to watch it all again. Her muscles tightened and spasmed. Her rhythm faltered.

Your phone rang.

"Shit. Oh fuck!" she screamed, throwing her head back, arching her spine and freezing mid-thrust.

Her cunt gripped you tightly. Squeezing, milking. Urging you to release within her once more and give her that final gift. You felt her leak over you. Watched as her pussy throbbed as she rode out those final moments, struggling to continue as her strength failed. You grabbed her hips and did the work. Thrusting up into her repeatedly. Feeling her cum dribbling down your shaft and over your balls. Fuck, she's messy.

She panted desperately and let her arms drop by her side, staying arched and leaning back. You helped her balance. She needed it.

Your phone kept ringing.

You ignored it. You fucked up into her, wanting nothing more than to cum inside her again. Your muscles burned. You clenched your teeth. The pressure in your lower abdomen was unbearable. But you pounded up into Karina, making her call out with each thrust, while your grip on her probably turned her hips purple. The pleasure in you rose and rose, so fast, so intense, and without warning it broke.

You came again.

Holding her down and shooting your cum deep inside her. Gasping for air as you did, flooding her body with rope after rope until her insides dripped. Her thighs became glazed in the evidence of your passion.

Then you lowered her down to lie against your chest and you held her close. Until her breathing settled and you could hear her purr, "I think you've outdone yourself this time."

"I think you'll kill me," you joked in return.

"But imagine how happy I'd be if you died from giving me too many orgasms."

A laugh. Another vibration. "Whoever that is must really need me," you grumbled.

"Fuck them," she laughed.

"Why, when I can keep fucking you?"

Karina bit her lip. She seemed pleased with that answer. Then you realised that even as you softened within her, she hadn't stopped grinding against you. Making those slow circles, keeping herself stimulated and trying to get you hard again.

"You're relentless," you marvelled.

"And you love it."

"I love-"

There's a bang at the door and then a bell.

Karina groaned. She sighed. She relented.

Then she rolled off your spent cock, letting it slip from her swollen cunt and you both stared at the ceiling. "Maybe they'll go away?" you mused. They didn't.

"Come on," she huffed. "Stay there. Let me get rid of them."

You listened to her walk across the hardwood floor in her bare feet. Unstable steps courtesy of your enthusiastic rutting.

She pulled on a robe and left the room. Your phone vibrated again as she left, so finally you rolled out of the bed, crawled to find your pants and pulled the damn thing out.

More missed calls and messages than you could count, and not just one person. Your friends, Karina's friends, and... Karina's manager? Face recognition kicked in and the phone unlocked. You're staring at Karina's messy bed.

You're staring at Karina's messy bed on your screen.

The icon has the word 'live' beside it.

You're staring at Karina's messy bed on Instagram Live.

Your heart stops beating. Your breath catches in your throat. You swallow nothing. Wait. One. Two. Three.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" is the scream from across the apartment. You look at the phone again. Karina's messy bed, on Instagram Live, with millions of viewers.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

That was when the realisation of your combined carelessness struck you both—separated by a wall, finding out from two different sources.

Now, they're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster.

[totally-here]

3 times Phantom's Guardian was Mentioned + 1 Time He Showed Up

One

Phantom’s introduction to Young Justice wasn’t as dramatic as Empress’ or Slobo’s, or even Arrowette’s first introduction to the cave. No, it wasn’t during the Olympics, or on a battlefield, and he didn’t come in injured and looking for help. 

Impulse just brought Phantom in one day and insisted that he should join because he’s their age, interested in justice, and now that Greta’s human again they need another ghost member. So Phantom stayed, popping in and out for missions but never really sticking around all that long. 

Today is one of the days that Phantom’s with them on a mission, that being looking around a lab of the Brain’s that had an energy surge recently, despite it being presumably abandoned. 

Kon got paired up with Phantom to check the rest out first, since they both have better hearing than Anita and Tim, who were both still in the main room working on checking the computers for previous activity. 

The room is dark except for the light green ball glowing slightly above Phantom’s hand. He waves it around enough for it to reflect off of glass, then throws it up to the ceiling. The light expands enough to illuminate the room. 

Phantom mumbles about not knowing he could do that. Kon ignores him and moves closer to inspect the glass tubes to the side of several monitors set up. 

“Looks like cloning equipment,” Phantom says, casually. He drags a finger through the dust gathering on one of the monitors. “Don’t think they’ve been activated recently, though, so that’s good.”

“What? You got a problem with clones or something?” It’s a quick and defensive answer, and Phantom puts his hands up in surrender. 

“Not in concept.” He shrugs and joins Kon near the tubes. “But not a lot of people ask before making clones.”

“So I don’t need to sic Superman on you?” Obviously Kon could chew Phantom out himself, but few can do a “not mad, just disappointed” face better than Clark. 

Phantom scrunches his face. “Why would you need to?” 

Kon stops pretending to inspect the tube and stares at Phantom. “You do know I’m a clone, right?” The blank look on Phantom’s face tells him that no, he did not. “Well I am. Clone of Superman, though we’re pretty much brothers now.”

“Cool,” Phantom says, not a bit less friendly. He hesitates for a second before continuing, “Could I maybe ask you how you got there? Me and my clone have landed on cousins, but that was also, like, given to us by her evil dad. So.”

Phantom trails off. Huh, that makes three members of the team that have been cloned. Not a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened three times. 

“You’re making sure she feels accepted, right?” 

“Yeah! Well, whenever she’s around. She,” Phantom waves his hand around, looking for the right word, “She’s a wanderer. Exploring the world and stuff. But Richard has a room for her at home, and I remind her of that whenever she does stop by.” 

“Well, first of all, don’t push it so hard,” Kon says. Phantom nods enthusiastically. “And second, who’s Richard?”

Kon doesn’t know a lot of Richards, and he doesn’t think that Phantom ever mentioned one before. Or even if he remembers his living life. 

“Oh, he’s my, uh, guardian? I guess that’s the best term. The guy I’m living with who forces me to go to school sometimes.” Phantom looks away and back to the tubes. 

Before Kon can ask for more details, Robin and Empress come in with a report of dead computers and wanting to know where they’re at with the cloning room.

They’re unimpressed with their lack of progress.

Two

Wally doesn’t really need to come by the Hamilton Lodge that often, not when that’s Young Justice’s territory and he doesn’t want to get involved in all of That.

But Red Tornado said that the team has a file on a planet that’s very quickly becoming a league problem, and he figured it might be a good time to try to check in with Bart, anyway. Make sure he hasn’t run any cars off cliffs again and all that. 

So he stops by Manchester to ask Bart about the file, then they both head East to actually find it. 

When they arrive at the hotel minutes later, Wally’s surprised to actually find it… clean? There’s no visible trash or overturned furniture or anything else he’d expect from an abandoned hotel filled with teenagers. Well, maybe not filled, lately. He doesn’t think anyone’s living here currently, with Greta at Elias’ for the school year and Slobo gone. 

Still, the room smells slightly of artificial pine scent, and Bart perks up before disappearing and reappearing rapidly, holding a teammate up by his armpits. Said teammate just accepts this, his legs folding into a wispy tail, and head rolling against his shoulders. 

“This is Phantom!” Bart holds him up higher. Phantom waves. Wally’s only heard of him through Max’s updates, the same way he would hear about Preston or Carol, but with more wariness about the supposed ghost. 

Actually looking at the pale face and glowing green eyes contrasting against the darker than dark jumpsuit, Wally’s a little more ready to accept his claim at being undead. 

“He stress cleans,” Bart explains, moving to carry Phantom under his arm. Wally bites down the urge to tell him to put him down, but only because Phantom doesn’t resist the hold, only moving to get into a more comfortable position. His hands are touching the floor. “So what happened?” 

Bart directs the question downwards, and Phantom heaves a very dramatic sigh. Definitely a teenager. It does raise the question of who exactly this kid’s mentor is. Hopefully he does have one. Maybe he’s the Spectre’s kid?

Phantom phases through the arm holding him only to lay on top of Bart’s hair. “I accidentally called Richard dad. And then fled.” 

Bart nods sagely. “Classic. One time I accidentally called Max dad, so I had to start a fire to distract him.”

Phantom sighs again, almost dreamily. “Genius.” 

Wally doesn’t have time to unpack all of that. Well he does, but he’s not going to, because there’s really only one Richard that comes to mind that might have the heart to take in a dead kid, even if he doesn’t go by his full name.

But surely Dick would have told him, or any other Titan, if he had adopted a kid. Right?

But there’s still a little shadow of doubt. Maybe Dick wanted it to be a secret, or it was really new or had a rocky start. Phantom doesn’t seem to hold himself like a Bat, but it’s not a guarantee Dick would have trained him. 

“The lodge looks nice,” Wally offers out loud, which Phantom shrugs at and wraps his tail around Bart’s head to keep secure. “Anyway, Impulse. The file on Myrg?” 

“Oh yeah!” Again, Bart disappears then reappears a few seconds later with a paper file. They really need to start digitizing more of these things. “That’s the planet where we played baseball so that they wouldn’t destroy Earth!” 

“You what.” 

The prospect of Dick following in his dad’s footsteps is forgotten in the face of what the hell Young Justice got up to on Myrg. 

Three

Tim may be in a…Predicament. 

It’s not his fault. Really. He knew what he was doing. He couldn’t let a civilian fall for the trap. But they were already so close, so he just, kinda, pushed himself into the rope instead. 

So there Robin is, tied upside down in a warehouse, with the Joker below next to an overly complicated control panel. The clown’s rambling about bombs hidden all over the city that Tim knows Batman is already tracking down with Batgirl. 

Tim’s not really paying attention to the rant because of that, more focused on wiggling enough to get the spare mini-birdarang out of his glove to cut the rope without notifying the Joker. 

“Yikes, bad time?” Asks Phantom’s voice beside him. Based on the source and accounting for the slight echo, he’s floating with his head near Tim’s, likely upside down. “Want some help?” 

Tim gets the birdarang out and starts sawing at the thick rope. They should be fine anyway, but stalling the Joker for extra time would be helpful. “Can you possess the Joker? Just hold him still.”

“The correct term is overshadow, but sure.” The voice disappears, and a few seconds later the Joker freezes. 

His body jerks forward, then backward, and a laugh chokes out of his throat. His hand claws over his mouth at the noise and he hunches over. All movement halts before he rights himself, shaking out his hands and rolling his shoulders. Phantom looks up at Tim and his eyes are glowing. 

Tim cuts through the rope, kicking and using the momentum to right himself and land on his feet. He brushes past Phantom in Joker’s body to handle the control panel. He turns off the radio broadcast and dismantles the bomb strapped to the panel.

Threat handled, he turns to Phantom and holds up some handcuffs. “Let me arrest you?”

Phantom obliges, turning the Joker’s body around and putting his hands behind his back. Tim lets him walk by himself out of the warehouse and moves the handcuffs around a lamppost. The Joker’s body jerks again, then slumps forward, just as Phantom reappears next to him, scowling down at the unconscious body. 

“That felt really slimy. Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Phantom grouches. 

“Why’re you in Gotham?” Tim asks. It’s not like Phantom makes a habit of visiting. The last time he came into the city, he complained about feeling the dead under the streets. Fortunately, that let Tim uncover a few tunnels that Talons travel through. Phantom, however, was unnerved by the Talons and left quickly. 

“Oh, Solomon Grundy’s back in our sewers. Richard said I should probably tell one of you Gotham heroes, since you keep track of those guys.” He shakes out his hands like they were cramped in the Joker. 

They hadn’t seen Grundy in a while. Tim assumed he was currently in a less violent personality. “What’s he doing?” 

Phantom shrugs. “Just chilling. Mostly underground. I tried to talk to him but he only grunted back at me. He also tried to pick me up, dunno what that was about.”

“Maybe because you’re both dead?” Tim guessed. That would be a surface level connection. Ivy and Woodrue have had more luck working with Grundy than anyone, and Phantom definitely doesn’t have the connection to the Green that’d help with that. 

Police lights turn around the corner, and Tim shoots a grapple to get to the roof above them. Phantom follows, but disappears as soon as they’re on the roof. Going back home, probably. 

Cass drops down from the roof she was listening on. “Richard?”

“Not the same one.”

They both stick around long enough to watch the Joker get put into the cop car. 

Plus one

A spaceship landed in the forests of New York, and Cassie’s team was the first to respond to it. Technically not respond, but check it out, since there wasn’t any alert or anything. 

Still, Wonder Girl has Empress, Robin, and Superboy on the other side of the ship, watching what looks like the back door, while she, Impulse, and Phantom watch the other door and main window. She has binoculars, but the windows are so tinted she can’t quite make anything out. 

No aliens have come out yet, and she hesitates to have anyone go in, in case whoever inside does turn hostile. 

Impulse has offered to run through a total of five times already, and it’s a testament to his restraint that he hasn’t, and a testament to Cassie’s that she hasn’t yelled at him yet. Phantom at least isn’t being annoying, but he’s not necessarily helpful, either. He’s not even watching the spaceship anymore. Now he’s trying to make a flower crown out of dandelions. 

“Door’s opening on our side,” Robin says from the comms. “But no one’s coming out.” 

“Alright, good enough to try to get in,” Cassie decides. She turns to Phantom, who’s closing off the circle of flowers. Beside him, Impulse has since pulled out a gameboy. “Phantom, go in invisibly through the open door and report back. Try to see what their plans are.” 

“Oh, sure. One second.” Phantom finishes the crown and tries to put it on Bart’s head. It doesn’t quite fit over his mane of hair, but Phantom shrugs and leaves it sitting there anyway before going invisible. 

“Maybe I should shave my head again,” Bart says as his game character dies. 

He gets a resounding no in response. 

Half an hour later they have a very annoyed Green Lantern lecturing them about league jurisdiction and knowing when to call someone else. 

Apparently, the alien ship was just stopping to complete some maintenance, and did not appreciate any spying on them, and especially did not appreciate who did it. Green Lantern was more than happy to explain that Wonder Girl���s team is not really a part of the Justice League and he can help with their maintenance. They denied his help and left to find a place with less people in it. 

“-and you!” Green Lantern rounds on Phantom next, but Cassie knows none of them are really listening. Sure, they messed up by freaking out the visiting aliens, and yeah maybe they should have contacted the league about it, but they’ve dealt with stuff worse than this! It’s not Cassie’s fault she thought that this would have stuck to the formula. 

“Who even are you?” Green Lantern runs a hand through his black hair, stupid green gauntlets shining in the sunlight. “Do I need to call your mentor?” He frowns. “Or do they know you mess up alien technology by just being around it?” 

Phantom scoffs and rolls his eyes. “How was I supposed to know their tech would go all fuzzy when I came in?” 

“You wouldn’t have to know if you just stayed out of the spaceship!” 

“Hey!” Cassie cuts in. “Technically that was my call. It’s not all on Phantom.”

“I still could've been more careful,” Phantom says to her, ignoring Green Lantern as they argue about blame. 

“Cut it out for a second, okay?” Green Lantern puts a hand between them and they stop to glare at him. He pulls the hand back. “Look, can I just talk to one of your adults about this?” 

Robin glares. “We don’t need an adult. We have this under control.”

“Only because I’m here now.” 

“I’ll call my mentor,” Phantom says. Kon opens his mouth, most likely to offer to call Superman instead in hopes of a lighter sentence, but Bart covers his mouth, smiling like he knows something Cassie doesn’t. Tim and Anita share a look, and don’t intervene as Phantom pulls out a phone from his chest. 

It rings once before it’s picked up. Cassie can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Kon’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Hey, do you think you can pick me up? Green Lantern wants to talk to you.” Phantom looks Green Lantern up and down then says, “No, this one doesn’t have a cape.”

Phantom says goodbye after rattling off their coordinates, hangs up, and stares at Green Lantern in silence for a few seconds. 

And then a swirling mass of black seeps into the space next to Phantom. The end of a cane steps out of it, followed by a leg, then the rest of the immaculately dressed man holding the handle of the cane that’s shaped like a bird’s head. 

“Phantom,” The man says. His voice drips with condescension in only a way a british accent can, yet Phantom smiles up at him. The shadowy portal behind him disappears. “What, exactly, happened?”

“That’s the fucking Shade,” Anita hisses to Robin, who shrugs noncommittedly at her. Green Lantern seems to recognise him too, taking a step back and clenching his hand that holds his ring. 

“Well, the team and I were staking out this spaceship–super cool, by the way–and I went inside to check it out, but my presence messed with their tech–which was an accident–and they freaked out, so I freaked out, and then we kinda got into a little fight until Green Lantern came to mediate.”

“Hm. Is that right?” The Shade asks Green Lantern, who nods slowly, still anticipating an attack. “It seems like the problem’s fixed, then.”

“Well, yes, but–”

“And it does seem about time for these kids to get home, doesn't it?” The Shade pulls out an actual pocket watch, chain and all, from his suit pocket and takes his time in checking it. “I’ll see them home.” 

Shadows grow from behind the team, swirling until they become a giant, gaping maw that swallows them up and spits them out in a different forest, or maybe just a different part of the same forest. 

Either way, Cassie has to take a moment to make sure she doesn’t throw up from the sudden vertigo the shadow portal caused. 

The Shade looks at Phantom, and raises an eyebrow. “You can’t expect me to always bail you out.” 

Phantom shrugs, looking guilty. “I know. Thanks, Richard.”

Oh, so that’s who Richard is. Annoyingly, neither Tim or Bart look surprised by this revelation.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

pop that cherry

a/n: woop woop! here's the little slutty story that you guys voted for when i asked what you wanted to see happen next in this au ৎ୭

summary: “hey, I get it,” he flashed you a comforting smile, “I’m a complete stranger. You just shook my hand two seconds ago and now we’re expected to bang in front of a bunch of other people you also don’t know,” his broad thumb swept over your knuckles, “you just have to decide if you wanna pack up your things, go home and chalk this up to just a fun experience, a lesson learned about what corners your sexuality and such does and does not stretch to,” he uttered with sincerity, “or you can come back inside and we can make some magic happen. It’s up to you.” 

warnings: camgirl!reader x various, pornstar!ari levinson, roommate!bucky barnes, porn director!bruce banner, smut, porn au, college au, reader’s porn name is cherry blossom (UrLittleCherry), filming pornography, reader's first time doing professional porn, kissing, masturbation, toys, oral, fingering, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, size kink (pornstar!ari is famous for his monster cock, you're welcome), belly bulge, manhandling, multiple orgasms, squirting, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, facial

word count: 3832

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

Curled up and melted on your mattress, you absentmindedly scrolled through your phone. Your puffy pussy, hidden between your still trembling thighs, clenched in dull soreness from the fuck machine frozen by your feet and still glistening from the show you’d put on only moments earlier. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” a familiar voice emanated from your doorway, “I didn’t know you were done streaming.”

Lazily blinking up at Bucky as he leaned against the frame, “yeah, just signed off a few minutes ago,” you exhaled, “did you just get home?” the question flowed from your lips and he swiftly nodded in confirmation, “how was class?” 

“Oh my god, don’t get me started,” your roommate let out a groan and pushed himself off the wall, his stride swiftly carrying him the short distance to where you laid and plopped himself down beside you.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you felt him press a slow peck to your exposed shoulder. 

“Do you need help lifting the toy back in the closet or–,” Bucky’s kind offer was then cut short by the shuttering gasp that suddenly crawled out of your lungs. 

“Oh my god,” your eyes grew to the size of saucers as you stared down at the message you’d opened on your phone, “oh my god!”

“What? What is it?” he propped himself up on a forearm to peek over your shoulder. 

“I–…” your eyes scanned the email wildly, “this can’t be real, right?” you cast a glance back at your friend. 

“Let me have a look,” and you swiftly handed him your phone before hearing him skim through it, “dear miss Cherry Blossom, bla, bla, bla… we here at Smash Studios really love your vibe and were wondering if you would ever consider doing professional pornography, because if so, then we would love to work with you,” his blue eyes flickered a moment longer over the screen before they fluttered up to meet yours, “no, I think it’s legit.”

“Holy shit…” you breathed, an airy giggle then bubbled out of you as this was quite the news to take in, even when one wasn’t still hazy from haven fucked one silly in front of hundreds of people. 

“You think you wanna do it?”

“Beautiful, gorgeous! And look right here, up there, yeah, that’s it…” 

Sharp clicks shuttered the camera and shot throughout the massive house as a photographer snapped the last of the stills for the shoot. You were posed perched and kneeling on a bed with your right hand buried in the already tiny crop top, you’d brought as one of the outfit options, and held up high to reveal your tits. 

The groan of floorboards creaking then found your ears and your gaze swiftly fluttered towards the door where the salt-and-pepper-haired man, who you’d come to learn was the head of the little porn studio, crossed over the threshold. 

“How are we doing in here?” Bruce adjusted his glasses before stepping further into the room. 

“I think we’re about done,” the photographer lowered the camera from his eye and cast a glance to his boss, “think we got the shot.”

“Great,” Bruce clapped his shoulder as the other man passed by and exited the room. As you tugged the short t-shirt back down into place, you met Bruce’s gaze before he asked you, “how are you doing? You ready?”

Though your mind was way too preoccupied to offer him an answer and instead blurted, “has he arrived?” as you scooted off the bed and felt the tiny shorts you wore ride up enough for your grasp to float down to adjust. 

“Not yet, I’m sorry,” he tilted his head, “trust me when I say that he isn’t usually this late. He wouldn’t have the stellar reputation he does if he was. But we can still begin without him and just fix it in post if you’re–”

Someone then poked their head and announced, “hey Banner? He’s here. I just spotted his bike roll up the driveway.”

Feeling your heart thump in your chest, you heard Bruce clap his palms together, “great!” before you followed him out of the bedroom and through the pristine halls of the rented modern mansion. 

Just before your bare feet began to conquer the long staircase, your absentminded grip tightened on the glass railing as you looked down at the open living room, clearly visible from the wide balcony, and spotted the figure that then sauntered in. 

“So sorry I’m late, traffic was literal hell.”

Ari Levinson. 

With sun-kissed brunette locks flowing from his head and a motorcycle helmet nuzzled under his burly arm, the infamous pornstar was not only blessed with a smile that could make anyone swoon, but also a dick so huge that any sane person would be downright terrified by the idea of having it split them apart. 

Though that wasn’t what had stopped you in your tracks, what had made your palms embarrassingly clammy when he soon shook one of them once you’d somehow made your way down the stairs. 

Why did your very first partner have to be someone you’d obsessively been getting off to for years? 

You were barely listening to what the people around you were saying as you couldn’t rip yourself out of the trance you’d snapped into. 

“I’m sorry, what?” you soon blinked, trying to avert your gaze. 

“I asked if you were ready,” Bruce patiently repeated. 

“…for?” you breathed, feeling as if you were inside of a giant ethereal cheese bell, making the entire world around you seem blurry. 

“For the shoot,” Bruce’s words still flew straight over your head, “I said that I was thinking that I’d do the filming myself, if that could make you more comfortable since you’ve already met me. That way it’ll just be me, the two of you and then Sam in the corner doing audio.”

“O-okay…” you said quietly, feeling your cheeks heat up as Ari let his gaze linger over you, an observant brow soon twitching as he spoke up. 

“Wait, actually,” he placed a palm on Bruce’s forearm, halting him as he reached for the bulky camera resting on the white couch, “do you mind if I grab a quick smoke break first?”

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, “let’s just all take five before we begin.”

It caught you completely off guard when the object of your distraction walked by you and paused to murmur in your ear, “come with me outside for a second, will you?”

Shadowing him all the way out of the tall glass door and onto the terrace, you watched him lean his frame against the fence and tilt his body for you to slot in beside him. 

“I don’t actually smoke,” you uttered softly as you let your fingers ghost over the railing. 

“Oh, neither do I–, or well, that’s not completely true, I do, just didn’t need one right now.” 

“So then why did you ask for a smoke break?” you cocked a brow. 

Blowing out a swift breath, Ari then twisted to face you more and gazed directly down at you. 

“You mind if I hold your hand?” he held out his own palm.

“Oh, uhm,” your glance flickered down to his upturned hand before you carefully placed your own atop of it, “okay.”

His warm fingers swiftly engulfed your own as his stare stayed fast upon you.

“So, this is your first time, huh?”

“Oh, no, I'm not a virgin, I–” 

“I meant porn, sweetheart,” he tilted his head to be more at your level. 

“Right,” you averted your gaze as butterflies soared in your stomach, “yeah, I haven’t really done this before… I mean, I’ve some stuff, I’ve cammed for a pretty long time now and even recorded custom videos for some people, but no, I haven’t really taken this step before…” 

You were staring down at his large hand engulfing yours as he then said, “you know, it’s okay if you don’t wanna go through with it. This field isn’t for everyone, in fact, only very few thrive in this environment, and if it’s not for you, then it’s okay.”

“Oh, no,” your eyes flickered up to find his as you urged, “I wanna do this, I really do. I’m sorry, I guess I just kinda got a bit more nervous than I expected.” 

“Hey, I get it,” he flashed you a comforting smile, “I’m a complete stranger. You just shook my hand two seconds ago and now we’re expected to bang in front of a bunch of other people you also don’t know,” his broad thumb swept over your knuckles, “you just have to decide if you wanna pack up your things, go home and chalk this up to just a fun experience, a lesson learned about what corners your sexuality and such does and does not stretch to,” he uttered with sincerity, “or you can come back inside and we can make some magic happen. It’s up to you.” 

“So, Cherry,” Bruce purred behind the camera as he knelt on the floor beside where you sat at the foot of the bed, “I can’t believe we finally convinced you to come have some fun with us. I gotta tell you, you are just a fucking dream come true…”

“Oh, thank you,” you smiled, kicking your feet slightly as they dangled over the edge. 

“But you must get that all the time, I mean, look at you.”

“It has been known to happen on occasion,” you chuckled, thinking back to all of the lewd compliments the viewers of your streams generously tossed at you. 

“So, a little birdy told me that this is your very first time fucking on camera. Is that true?”

“Yeah, it is,” you bit down on your bottom lip, “I’m so ready to pop that cherry.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” he smirked, panning the bulky camera over your frame as you tilted your head in a nod, “you’re just ready to show the whole world what a perfect slut you are?”

“Think it’s about time,” you giggled in response. 

“Well, then why don’t you do something for me and stand up?” he shifted back a bit as you got up from the bed, “and now, I’ve already seen it, but can you please turn around and show everyone how fucking perfect your ass is?” a grin stayed fast on your face as you slowly spun around. Your butt was barely covered in the tiny shorts that clung around your hips, so when you twisted and let the camera catch that part of you, Bruce quietly groaned, “wow…” and he shifted his grip to let one of his hands float up towards you, “can I touch you?” 

“Sure,” you arched your back a bit to make his palm’s journey that much shorter. 

“Damn… this has got to be one of the greatest booties I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” he offered your softness a brief squeeze. His fingers first dented one cheek, then the next, before his grip caught your waistband and tugged your shorts up just a tad bit more, making the fabric momentarily rub against your covered pussy.

His flat palm then scooped around your hips and guided you back to face the camera.

“Do you wanna see my boobs?” you smiled as you blinked down at him with big doe eyes, your hands gently grazing over the hem of your crop top.

“Oh, yes, please,” he virtually begged as he let his warm palm stay glued to your waist. 

Peeking down, you slowly lifted the shirt up and let your tits quite literally spill out as they jiggled slightly from the release of how fiercely you let the cotton graze over your skin. 

“Jesus christ…” you heard him utter as your palms fluttered down to play with them, squeezing the soft peaks gently before Bruce’s fingers sneaked up to pinch one of your nipples.

Once you’d put on a show and pushed the tiny shorts down your legs, the crotch of which had been slightly soaked since you weren’t wearing any panties underneath, you rested back down on the bed and spread your legs wide for the camera, grinning as the older man asked you to play with yourself. 

“Oh my god… I gotta tell you, I am so hard right now,” you watched how intently he stared at the small monitor, getting a closeup of how your fingers rubbed your little clit, “you have no idea how tough it is not to just fuck you right now, it’s crazy…”

“Oh yeah?” you giggled, the melody of your want echoing throughout the room at every teasing touch you offered yourself, “how bad do you wanna fuck me?”

“So fucking bad…” he uttered in a nearly hypnotise tone. 

Continuing to circle your puffy pearl, your fingers briefly dipped down to tease your entrance, only shyly slipping inside before you swept back up. 

“You know what?” Bruce said as he then began to twist a bit to get the open door to the room into frame, “I have a little surprise for you,” and perfectly on queue, Ari appeared at the threshold, burly chest on show with just a pair of jeans hanging low on his hips. 

His stride was slow as he only stayed in the doorway a moment before sauntering over to where you sat, melted back and resting against the one forearm that propped you up. 

“Hey,” he smiled and plucked up your face as soon as it was within reach. 

“Hi,” you managed to utter just before he bent down and pressed his lips to yours in an unhurried and gentle kiss. 

He kissed you as if he had all the time in the world, like some dude wasn’t pressing a bulky camera closer to the intimate act, but like he was the lead in a PG romcom. 

When Ari withdrew, he let himself linger in your warmth, ever so slightly nuzzling his nose against your own as your fingers kept up the dizzying pattern you drew between your parted thighs. Tilting his head, his touch traced the length of your arm till his reach came down to aid your efforts, making you gasp from the way he caressed you. 

“You,” he nudged his nose gently against your own, “look like you’re in need of some cock in that little mouth of yours.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you said, “you read my mind,” before popping the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. Even though you’d seen his famed cock numerous times on screen before, it truly was something else to witness it in person. A breathy, “holy shit,” left your lips as you tried to wrap your fingers around his girth, though he only let out a soft laugh at the way your eyes grew wide. 

Ceasing the caress he drew between your thighs, he instead grabbed the base of his heavy length with his fingers still glossy from your arousal. As you stuck out your flat tongue, he tapped the weight against you for a second before you tilted your chin and wrapped your lips around the bulbous head.  

As you disappeared into the meditative motion of slobbering all over his cock, gradually taking more and more of his intimidating length, your frame twisted to lay on your side and face him more. 

Blinking up into his hooded eyes as the corners of your lips burned from the severe stretch, you felt his hips begin to move, rolling to meet your every bob, till his fingers tangled in your hair and he got to take over completely, fucking your face till slobber dribbled down your chest and rained down on your crop top, still tugged up and framing your tits. 

His free hand then snaked its way back down your body and cracked your legs open wide for the camera to see as he plugged your pussy up with two of his fingers, making you moan around his girth as the tip of him bruised your throat. 

When he yanked your mouth off of his cock, he did so with a gravelly growl, like he could have lived in your silky warmth and it pained him to say goodbye so soon. 

“Come here,” he grabbed you and flipped you around for your frame to face him as his feet stayed planted on the side of the bed. Kicking his jeans the rest of the way off, you panted up at him as you scooted even closer, nearly letting your butt hang off the mattress’ edge as you laid already crumbled and folded before him, utterly bewitched by the anticipation of what his legendary size must feel like stretching your poor pussy out. 

Shimmery spiderwebs of your nectar clung to him as he then let you feel the weight of him tap against your puffy pearl, briefly skimming through your folds before he found your eyes and tipped down, nudging to catch your weeping entrance. 

“Oh my g-god…” you gasped, all of the air escaping your body to accommodate as he slowly pressed just the tip inside. Your cunt clung around his dick as he gave you a second to catch your breath. Your pulse throbbed in your pussy as your silky walls moulded around him and your thighs gently trembled from the intensity of it all. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he gave you another inch, “you feel so good,” gently stuffing more of his length inside. 

His grip dented your trembling thighs as he held you open for the camera to see how you struggled to take his cock. Even when the tip of him kissed your cervix and made you feel as if he was all the way up in your fucking throat, when you hazily gazed down to see where he split you apart, there was still a generous inch of him that your little pussy just couldn’t take. 

As your eyes lingered a little longer, you too caught sight of how a dull bulge formed in the lower part of your belly, perfectly timed with each of his mind-numbing thrusts. 

When you then tumbled over the edge, nearly blind from the overwhelming pleasure, your pussy couldn’t help but accidentally gush around Ari’s girth, simply because of how mind-boggling he felt. 

“Oh, shit,” you panted. Still in your orgasmic daze, you swiftly cast a worried glance up at Bruce steady behind the camera, “I’m sorry,” you briefly broke the scene as Ari too paused his movements as you breathlessly spoke, “I really tried not to squirt, I know that wasn’t part of today’s plan, but–, fuck…” your eyes fluttered up to find Ari’s, “your dick’s just so goddamn big,” you hazily giggled. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Bruce’s voice washed over you as you watched a smile tug at Ari’s lips, “that was just an unplanned bonus.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad?” your neck twisted to cast a glance at the director. 

“No,” he swiftly shook his head and flashed you a reassuring smile to calm the obvious anxiety that had bubbled up inside of you. 

“Oh, good,” you let out a sigh, “sorry, I just got nervous for a second. Okay, alright, we can keep going.”

“You good?” Ari checked before he cracked out of his frozen form. 

“Yep, yep, I’m okay, I’m wonderful,” you chuckled and let the last bit of nerves wash away. 

“Alright,” he dipped down to press a soft kiss to your lips, before his hands guided your arms around his neck, slinking them around him. 

His grasp then scooped down under you and he effortlessly plucked you up off the bed, a shy yelp bubbling up from your lungs as he picked your frame up to cradle you in his arms, his massive cock still lodged inside of you, though when he settled you in his strong hold, it felt as if he found a mystical way to slide even deeper. 

Moans flowed from your lips and vibrated against his skin as your neck soon gave up and lent your cheek to smoosh against his fuzzy chest. 

“There you go,” he stood up tall and bounced you in his arms like you were a toy, just a cocksleeve for him to get off with, “there you fucking go…”

As he picked up the pace and truly gave you a taste of how a real pornstar pounded a pussy for the camera, your eyes screwed shut tight and you felt yourself float away on a cloud, curled up in Ari’s burly arms and surrounded in a storm of your collective moans. The existence of the video camera even faded from your reality as you peeled your eyes open and peeked up at Ari from the pillow of his pec, knowing full well that he too could feel how you began to clench around his cock once more. 

“You gonna cum again?” he repeatedly lifted you up and down on his fat girth, “you gonna be a good girl and cream all over my cock, huh?”

Blinking up at him, your brows crinkled in pleasure as you nodded, “uh-huh.”

“You think you can squirt again for me?” his grip dug into the plush of your ass hard enough for it to leave marks. 

“I-I don’t know–”

“Oh, I think you can,” he switched up his pattern, slowing down slightly and dragging you all the way up till his cock nearly slipped out of you, only to sink you back down in such a rough, yet intensely slow manner, that it made your eyes roll in your skull, “just listen to that,” he smirked at the soft sloshing sound that sinfully echoed as his fat girth repeatedly slid against your g-spot, virtually bullying it till you surrendered, “it’s like she’s begging me to just spend the rest of the day making her gush over and over again until you fucking pass out…”

A shrill cry escaped your form as you let go once more, shaking in Ari’s grasp as Bruce knelt down to capture your sinful drizzle.  

You nearly felt drunk, like you were hours into the best party of your life, when you eventually found yourself planted on the floor, quaking legs unsteady beneath you as you blinked up at Ari, looming above you and furiously fucking his fist. 

“You want me to cum all over that pretty little face?” he grunted as you hazily stuck out your tongue. 

“Yes,” the corners of your lips blissfully curled up into a grin, “please–”

Even though your bones had turned into jelly and your pussy clenched in soreness, the drawn-out moan that rumbled in Ari’s chest as hot ropes of his cum then shot out and painted your features sent tingles throughout your body and filled you with a desire to just wrestle him back down onto the mattress, hit rewind and do it all over again. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[javiscigarette]

Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort. 

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.

 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea. 

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.” 

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 

“I sure do.” 

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him. 

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

[reverieblondie]

Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X fem!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly joins in by slinging his arm around Miles for a better look.   

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you” 

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of rustling paper and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore.

Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace. He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that his….yearbook…

It was turned to a picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel who was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. His cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled however but his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 

“How did you all get this?” Miguel ask his irration clear from how he pinch’s the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger. 

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed…and I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly descalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs with relief. Holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, pulling the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting becomes too much, and he snaps, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say about you, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 

“Miggy~”     

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking as the blush from earlier slowly rises to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 

“Well…technically…I didn’t” 

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's faces, but Peter is all grins as he goes to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 

Gwen quickly swats the older man on the shoulder, earning a whine from Peter. 

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his embarrassment. 

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen questions.

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now though!” 

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 

“It’s like density!” 

Miguel groans…he just wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good ol days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… and instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Alecamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly muttering the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 

“Then…Whe-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathetic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and thinks about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. He feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your glossed lips. Then, your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap but it doesn’t matter.

The kiss was so sweet, and he tried to hold you gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he finally after a couple minutes pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush as well. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…” he confessed. Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!” 

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?” 

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. Someone must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring as his thoughts run everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful spinning, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. His eyes stay on your confident smile. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shake through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 

“Miguel, I liked the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t had run away…” 

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, liked when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break in a sweat. 

“I thought you were sweet…” 

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 

“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thigh, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 

“Miggy, I always liked you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your lips isn’t lost on him. 

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you had taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice tuts to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly caresses up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you keen, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and caress his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit agin before he gives it a quick lick. 

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 

“So eager, Miggy~” 

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 

“Good…” 

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 

“Miggy, about time you asked…” 

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

[ponderingmoonlight]

Touching kny men's frogs by accident

Pairings: Sanemi x fem!reader; Giyu x fem!reader; Rengoku x fem!reader; bonus: Tengen x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,7k

Warnings: Not smut but it's getting heated y'all, heavy inspiration from apothecary diaries hehehehe, enjoy babes

I didn't feel like writing for quite some time and would totally appreciate you showing some love and support 🤍

Sanemi Shinazugawa

“I can’t fucking stand you”, you hiss through gritted teeth, body feeling like exploding any given minute.

Out of all the people around you, why does it always have to be him you’re assigned with? Why not Giyu, why not Rengoku? No, it’s always the asshole himself, the devil in person.

“Join the club. I can’t stand you either, but at least I’m having fun with it”, he jeers back, the veins on his forehead almost popping.

If there’s one thing he hates more than anything else on this planet, it has to be you. Sanemi’s eyes glare you up and down as you walk in front of him, feet stomping onto the ground demonstratively while you make your way to the mansion you were assigned to.

No, that’s not true. If there’s one thing he hates more than anything else on this planet, it has to be that you hate him.

“Let’s just get this shitty mission over with”, you mumble under your breath.

Fuck, you’re almost able to feel his gaze burning through your back while it takes all your focus not to trip like an idiot. You hate to admit it, hate to even think about it, but somehow…

Why does the way he holds his sword have to be so damn attractive? Why does his voice force your heart to skip a beat, your knees to feel oh so weak? Why does it have to be him, the guy who hates you more than anyone else? You’re nothing but a fool for falling for him so hard. God, you really need to pull yourself together. Maybe telling yourself over and over that you hate him as well will finally force some sense back into your brain.

Will it? Or maybe, just maybe telling him about those things might help. Maybe you need to get this off your chest, maybe you need to feel him rejecting you to finally move on. You clench your hands into tight fists, heartbeat picking up in an instant. Yes, you just have to do this. There’s no way you’ll be able to act like that forever. And after that, after he rejected you like the asshole he is, you’ll definitely be able to hate him like you’re supposed to.

“Sanemi, I really have to-“

But just when your courage took over, you aren’t able to complete your sentence. A pair of razor-sharp teeth shoots just barely past your throat. An animal? A demon? You didn’t even realize that the sun is already fully set, didn’t even hear this lower-ranked demon coming. A dangerous mistake that right now, might cost your life.

“Watch out!”, Sanemi cries out behind you.

Images start to blur and overlap, you feel your body falling towards the cold hard ground. Are you dead, injured? Time seems to stand still, the only thing you’re able to do is pressing your eyes shut.

Until you land.

Softly.

“(y/n)…”

You clench your hands even harder, body not able to comprehend what just happened. You were on your way to the ground, without any doubt. How is it possible that you landed so softly? Did the demon eat you, eventually?

“Can you just…stop?”

“Sanemi?”

Immediately, your eyes dart towards the sound of his whiny voice.

Underneath you.

Sanemi Shinazugawa is lying under your very own body, trapped between your legs, kept in place by your hand.

Your hand…What is that soft feeling? A frog, maybe? You squeeze a little tighter. To be honest, you never really touched a frog-

“(y/n)!”, Sanemi cries your name in a way he’s never done before, his cheeks so bright red that it leaves worry lines all over your face.

“Did you catch a fever? No wonder considering that cold wind you’ve made earlier while training. I told you over and over that-“

“Your hand”, Sanemi presses out.

“Remove your fucking hand.”

Your hand? You shake your head in sheer confusion. What on earth does this have to do with your hand?

While one of your palms rests flat against the cool ground, the other still holds onto that squishy but somehow comforting thing. Your eyes wander down your own arm, searching for what might be a frog.

You swallow hard, hand snapping away in an instant.

God, you want to die. Right here on the spot. Without any last words.

Is this really, did you really touch him…there?

“It wasn’t a frog”, you mutter in sheer horror while lifting yourself off the boy underneath you.

“A frog!?”

“I…I thought this was a frog! Why didn’t you tell me earlier that I…that I touched you there!?”, you cry out in nothing but horror.

“Why the hell did you think it was a frog, idiot? I definitely don’t feel like a frog”, Sanemi gives back while grabbing your arm.

“And stop wiping your fucking hand like you just touched something dirty!”

“I…I need to go now”, you announce in a haste.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You really touched Sanemi down there. Sanemi Shinazugawa, the boy you always hated. No, the boy you secretly love.

And that’s definitely worse.

“Stay right where you are, (y/n)…We…We still have this stupid mission going and I don’t wanna get scolded by Shinobu for scaring you away”, the white-haired man mumbles, the pressure he puts on your wrist now becoming more gentle.

“Right.”

Get yourself together. Acting like a dumb teenager doesn’t help the situation either. As if nothing happened, you straighten your shoulders and start walking towards the estate again.

An uneasy silence begins settling between both of you, Sanemi just strolling by your side without even looking your way. Fuck, this is so awkward and strange. What are you supposed to do? Not saying a word until the mission is over, talking about the weather?

“Thank you for saving me from that demon earlier”, you blurt out without thinking twice.

“I’m still not over the fact that you called me a frog…”, he mumbles while shaking his head.

“What else was I supposed to say? I really thought it was a frog!”, you try to defend yourself.

In the split of a second, you find yourself pinned against a nearby tree.

“A frog, huh? No problem, I’m gonna show you it’s anything but a frog”, he hisses though gritted teeth.

„S-show me what?“

Giyu Tomioka

„You need to listen to your surroundings. The only thing you’re fighting with are your eyes”, Giyu explains briefly while putting a blindfold over your eyes.

Word of protest get stuck in your throat. No, it took you way too long to convince the water hashira to train you. To be exact, a couple of letters from Sakonji and you begging on your knees. You’ll definitely won’t risk him turning his back on you again over something as stupid as a blindfold.

“You need to focus on your other senses as well.”

Like the sound of his calm voice that makes your heart skip a beat? Or the faint smell of grapes that sticks to his clothes and tingles your nose?

“I said focus”, he warns you.

You blink into the darkness and straighten your shoulders. He’s right. You’re here to get trained by the water hashira and not to pine after him. You have to prove yourself. You have to show him you’re worthy of his time.

“Go.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. With a swift motion you dart forwards, follow the sound of his steps. You furrow your eyebrows while desperately trying to focus on the ever so slightly crush of branches underneath his feet, your bare skin eager to feel the tiniest brush of wind.

But before you’re even able to detect him, you feel his hand roughly slapping the back of your head.

“You’re not trying good enough”, he comments calmly.

That’s it, the moment you’ve been waiting for. You turn around as fast as possible, your arm on its way to hit him.

Now you have Giyu, now you’re finally able to strike back.

Your hands hold onto something when he forces you around swiftly.

And then you hit the ground.

“What the hell was that?”, you bark while yanking away that stupid blindfold.

But when your eyes meet his, your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“Giyu? Are you…alright?”

His cheeks are bright red, a thin coat of sweat covering his forehead while he stares at you with widened eyes. What is going on? Is there something behind both of you?

“(y/n)…”

He breathes out your name like a prayer, a minor whimper escapes his oh so beautiful lips.

“Hey, your worrying me. What’s going on?”, you question, eyes scanning him up and down.

Until your gaze wanders to your very own hand.

That rest just where his private parts are.

“Oh!”

Immediately, you stumble backwards while wiping your hand against your uniform like the idiot you are. How the hell did you not realize that you were touching him there?

“I-I…I’m so s-sorry! It wasn’t on purpose!”, you cry out immediately.

You’re screwed. What if Giyu thinks you’re a disgusting freak, a pervert? You never touched a man like that in your entire life, never knew what it would feel like. But…you never imagined it to feel this big. No wonder though, Giyu definitely seems like the kind of guy who keeps his secrets to himself.

“(y/n), can you…stop staring at me like that?”, he mumbles.

Your dirty eyes widen when you start to notice that you were still staring at his pants.

“I’m so sorry!”

“I think I need to go for a few minutes”, he announces awkwardly while getting up.

“What? Please don’t leave, I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself! I will be more careful, I will make sure something like this n-“

“(y/n), please just stop talking. I need to calm down. Now excuse me.”

“But Giyu, please don’t leave me hanging! I don’t want us to stop training, there’s still so much you need to teach me-“

“I need a couple of minutes to…take care of something.”

“To take care of something?”, you repeat visibly confused.

What on earth does he have to take care of now? His very own hand wanders to his pants, adjusting what looks like a visible bump.

A bump.

You swallow hard.

“Oh.”

Instinctively, you turn around, your cheeks now bright red.

“O-okay. Got it. Sorry”, you mutter.

Kyojuro Rengoku

“(y/n), stay by my side!”, Kyojuro instructs you while dashing down the dark forest.

Your heart pumps rapidly, mouth already tasting like iron. To be honest, you are exhausted. Exhausted of running, exhausted of fighting, exhausted of this cruel night. What time is it? When will the sun finally rise again? The only thing that keeps you going is him. The man who runs in front of you and shields you from demon attacks as often as possible.

Him, Kyojuro Rengoku.

“I can’t do this anymore”, you mutter when your sight already starts to get foggy.

Kyojuro turns around, eyes springing back and forth between you and the army of demon who dash behind both of you.

What now? He can’t watch out for you while killing off all those demons. No, he’s forced to wait until help arrives. Otherwise, you might get hurt. Or even worse…

He shakes his head ever so slightly, eyes focusing on what’s in front of him. Kyojuro was never the type to hide like a coward, but right now, this might be your only chance.

“Follow me.”

Gently, he grabs your hand and drags you behind him, dashing towards what looks like a small cottage at neck-breaking speed.

“Kyojuro, what are you doing?”, you question in sheer confusion.

He managed to leave all those demons behind, now running straight towards the cottage in front of them. What is his plan?

“We will hide until help arrives”, he explains briefly.

With a swift motion, he opens and closes the door behind your trembling figure, eyes darting around the room without a real aim.

Until they land on a closet.

“Hiding? But-“

“I’m sure Uzui will arrive within the next few minutes. But with you injured like this and countless demons chasing after us, I’m not able to defeat them by myself while still making sure you’re fine”, he explains briefly while gently shoving you into the closet.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat when he pushes himself inside next to you and closes the door, so close that you’re able to feel his breath tickling against your cheek.

“Thank you for thinking about me”, you breathe into the suddenly so private space.

“I always will, (y/n).”

A warm feeling spreads in your stomach as well as your now pounding heart. It’s hard not to fall for a perfect man like him. Him who engulfs you with the sheer heat of his body. Him, who has never been this close to you before. Him, the man you love since the first time you saw him.

Your feelings threaten to overpower you just like your dizziness. In the search for hold, you adjust your body in the tiny space, hands searching for support.

A minor whine fills the otherwise quiet place, coming straight from Kyojuro’s lips.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself as well?”, you question, now pulled out of your trance.

You didn’t even have the time to think about Kyojuro with all those demons chasing after you. What if he got injured? How careless of you to not check on him sooner.

“No, it’s just…You’re squeezing my pelvic area”, he presses out.

“W-what?”, you shriek, instantly removing your hand.

“I-I’m sorry, I thought I was holding onto a knob!”, you try to explain in an instant.

“(y/n), you are killing me”, he suddenly mutters with unusual low voice.

“I do…what?”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself trapped between his strong arms, the heat radiating from his body threatening to burn you alive while your glossy eyes stare at him through the darkness.

“I had my eyes on you for quite some time now. If I’m being honest, I developed feeling for you a long time ago.”

Feelings? Kyojuro Rengoku developed feelings? For you? You have to be dreaming, hallucinating due to blood loss. But the pressure of his hands against your back is real just like his breath that caresses your face gently.

“Kyojuro, I-“

You aren’t able to finish your sentence. The split of a second is all it takes for the doors of the closet to swing open.

“Now, look what we have here. Two lovebirds cramped into a tiny space with (y/n)’s hand…Oh, I might have interrupted something here”, Tengen jeers at both of you with a dirty smile plastered onto his face.

“Get away from here right now!”, you cry out along with slapping his shoulder roughly.

“Embarrassed because I caught you?”

“You didn’t catch us! This was…an accident.”

“And accident?”

“An accident”, Koyjuo confirms.

“You can’t fool me, lovebirds. But for now, let’s focus on those demons”, Tengen comments dryly while drawing his swords.

Bonus: Uzui Tengen

“You need to help me”, your beloved husband presses out through gritted teeth, his face twisted in pain.

“Yeah, sure I’ll do anything!”

You have to blink a few times against the wave of panic that threatens to take you over, Uzui’s blood sticking to your hands uncomfortably. You need to get yourself together, need to focus on helping your husband after this rough mission.

“Press your hand against my leg and stop the bleeding”, he chokes, his head now resting against the rough ground.

“Okay, I can totally do that!”, you mutter.

There’s no time to waste. As fast as possible, you press your trembling palm against the warmth of his body, your eyes scanning his face for any reaction when a sudden whimper escapes his lips.

“(y/n)…I always love when you touch me there, but right now, I need you to press your hand against my leg.”

“Oh!”

Immediately, you remove your hand from his groin and press it onto the gaping wound on his leg.

“I guess that was habit.”

"Well, now I'm horny and injured...", Tengen mumbles under his breath.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you like what I came up with <3

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[gloomwitchwrites]

Pssst...141!boys + König and their partners' father giving a "shovel talk"? Let's be real, if any of the boys heard their teammate was cheating or mistreating their partner, all respect would be out the windows and they'd beat the shit out of him themselves?

Firstly, and y’all can absolutely laugh at me about this, I could not comprehend what a “shovel talk” was. The term sounded familiar, and even with the rest of your request, I was still like “huh, weird.” And it wasn’t until I looked it up that it dawned on me. For real, I was looking like Winona Ryder in that one GIF of her where she’s looking around on stage at an award show like she has no idea what’s happening.

I’m going to split this up into two categories. With them “receiving” the talk from others and them “giving” the talk to someone.

MDNI

written w/ gn!reader

John Price

Receiving the talk: Quiet, stoic, and calm throughout the conversation. Speaks with a cool monotone, and doesn’t reveal how he’s truly feeling. Inwardly, he’s absolutely rolling his eyes because he would never, but doesn’t fault the person for threatening him. He might do the same in their shoes.

Giving the talk: Very clear with his messaging while not being overly blunt. Price is more likely to make a subtle threat than an outright one. He saves those sorts of threats for people who have actually wronged him or those he cares about.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Receiving the talk: Completely apathetic. He knows what kind of man he is and how he treats those he cares about. Kyle leads with integrity and he’s not going to simply put that aside. If anything, he might reassure the other person, or just agree with them. He’s not going to take it personally.

Giving the talk: Very casual and up front about it. Will make it more of a general conversation and won’t be confrontational about it. Kyle sees it more as a little reminder that he’s watching and keeping tabs.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Receiving the talk: He’s absolutely insulted that the talk is being had in the first place. Johnny prides himself on being a gentleman, and would never raise a hand to you anyway. So, the fact that someone is going out of their way to intimidate him honestly pisses him off. And he’s not afraid to tell that person off. Unless that someone is a peer he respects (like a member of 141). He’d be much more receptive if one of them talks to him.

Giving the talk: Will absolutely make a clear threat in an intentionally scary way and then it with a pat of the back and a joke.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Receiving the talk: Dead silent during the whole conversation. The kind of silent where he observers and listens and doesn’t contribute at all. Y’all know what I’m talking about. And this man isn’t crossing his arms at all or popping a hip. He’s standing there with his arms at his sides, unmoving. In fact, it’s so off-putting and intimidating that the person giving the talk is likely to wrap it up quick.

Giving the talk: Says the bare minimum…but he’s blunt, direct, and very clear in his messaging. Simon will absolutely make that threat with detail if he needs to.

König (Bonus)

Receiving the talk: König finds it funny that anyone thinks they can actually intimidate him over this. He’ll absolutely amuse the idea, and let the person talk, but he’s giving no signs that he’s taking them seriously or that he’s put out about by threatening him. And really, how can they? This man is all broad shoulders and height. If anything, he’s going to intimidate them.

Giving the talk: Will absolutely give the talk with a smile on his face and a few jokes. That doesn’t mean he’s any less intimidating. König positions himself in such a manner that he towers off the person he’s talking to. Sure, he’s giving the threat with a smile and a little light-hearted banter, but the meaning is the same, and that’s what ultimately matters.

main masterlist

[scottiexmariee]

omg ive been highly enjoying ur fics and hcs!!! i think u wrote their characters very spot on 🥺 the jail one got me thinking... can i request the lads boys reacting to the reader getting in trouble after punching someone. bc someone talked shit about the boys and wanted to defend their honor or smth lmfao ty!!! 💕

omg anon lemme kiss u on the forehead 

I almost did a backflip when I read this, I was so happy to write it. This one took a bit longer to write so I do apologize, but I was reeeeally on a mission to deliver some good plot here

Some are a bit longer (coughSyluscough) but I really hope you enjoy <3

Defending Their Honor

Pairings: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k (oops)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Lore references. Reader throwing hands. FEELINGS. Soft Sylus. -Scottie is allergic to happiness.

Masterlist

Note: I got possessed when I wrote Sylus' and probably should have made him his own fic. I am not sorry. It is longer than the others. I am bashing my head against the keyboard. Please forgive me.

☆ “While I’m honored, you didn’t have to do that on my behalf,”

☆ ^ Giggling and kicking his feet on the inside though

☆ He’d also return the favor with no hesitation if the situation was ever reversed

☆ ^ You will NOT diss his lady in his presence

☆ Y’all are def cuddling for the rest of the night as soon as you get home

Xavier really needed to learn to stop taking his eyes off of you when the two of you were out in public. 

The two of you had gone on a fun little outing to Linkon’s version of a pop-up carnival. There were games, food vendors, live music, and tons of people. He knew how badly you’d wanted to go, so of course you nearly jumped right into his arms when he showed up at your apartment after lunch and told you to get ready.

So far, it had been good. The two of you had played a couple games, won some prizes, even took chances with a few questionable rides. You had walked around, hand in hand, enjoying each other’s presence and making new memories together.

It had been seconds. Seconds. You were both, unsurprisingly, hungry after walking around for a few hours. Xavier, being the knight in shining armor that he is, had walked up to one of the nearby food vendors to grab a snack for the two of you, innocently leaving you near a blue park bench. When he finished, you had disappeared. 

He stared at the now empty park bench, snacks in hand, completely baffled. He did a quick scan of the area, only to see a bunch of people he didn’t know, and someone being escorted to the exit by two security officers.

But that person almost looked like they were wearing the same outfit as you.

Xavier squinted. Surely not, right?

He caught up quickly, nearly stumbling when his suspicions were confirmed. That was absolutely you being dragged to the front of the park.

He lagged behind quietly, saying nothing, but already accepting the fact that your fun carnival date was apparently over. 

You were given a verbal warning and kicked out of the park, being told not to come back for the remainder of this year’s visit. If you came back, it would be trespassing.

You were getting ready to text Xavier when you realized he was right in front of you, nibbling on some type of skewer he’d gotten from the vendor. “Sooo…” He began, eyeing you curiously.

“I may or may not have slapped someone,”

His eyes immediately widened, his mind running through every possible scenario. 

“What happened? Did someone touch you?” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, eyes scanning every inch of exposed skin for injuries. 

“No! No, it’s….nothing like that,” 

His eyebrows furrowed. “Then….?”

Suddenly, you were a bit embarrassed. It had been so stupid. How was he even going to react to this?

When Xavier had left you by the bench, a man that looked to be around your age approached and asked for your number.

“I know you just saw me with someone.”

“So?”

“Not interested,”

“Why? Because of that loser? You could do better.”

That was it. That was the reason you’d backhanded the disrespect right out of that man’s bloodline. 

Xavier was….so many things. Incredibly kind, thoughtful, and just so deliciously him. You adored him the same way he adored you, and had him on a pedestal that no one could even close to touching. You could do better? Not possible. There was not a soul in this galaxy that was better than Xavier. At least, not to you.

Hearing someone speak lowly of him when you truthfully couldn’t even articulate how incredible he was? Yeah, instant slap. 

You kept your explanation short. “Some guy called you a loser,” You said, rubbing your arm sheepishly. 

Xavier almost giggled. 

“So….you slapped him?” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the reality of how out-of-pocket the whole thing was finally setting in.

Surprisingly, Xavier laughed. It was soft, filled with fondness and mirth. He pulled you into a loving embrace, placing a soft kiss on the top of your forehead. He'd be lying to the both of you if he said he wouldn't do something similar.

“I’m honored,” He began, his voice muffled by your hair, “but you don’t have to slap people on my behalf,”

“I’ll always defend you, whether you’re in the room or not,” You responded, your tone firm and completely serious. 

Xavier stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around you still, feeling like the luckiest guy alive. The thought of you backhanding someone for calling him something as simple as a loser was almost hysterical, yet it filled him with a warmth he couldn’t explain. You were really something else. 

After a moment, he pulled back, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Let’s go. There’s plenty of time left for us to turn this night around,”

❅ okay listen I love Zayne

❅ but he's kinda emotionally constipated sometimes (at least on the OUTSIDE)

❅ the logical side of him wants to scold you and tell you that this wasn't necessary

❅ but the emotional side, the side that is harder for him to articulate, is lowkey flattered that you'd go that far to defend his name

Zayne slowly paced back and forth in the lobby of the city’s police station, the only sounds in the room being the tap of his shoes on the linoleum floor and the ticking of a clock on the wall. He glanced toward the clock. It had been 20 minutes since he’d come to retrieve you, and he was growing impatient. 

The two of you were in another city for an awards banquet. You’d come along simply to support Zayne, your absolute favorite person in existence (who just so happened to be an incredible Doctor that was receiving multiple awards for his work).

Imagine Zayne’s surprise when the banquet ended and he couldn’t find you anywhere. It was extremely out of character for you to disappear when it came to things like this, especially while you were in an unfamiliar place. This wasn’t Linkon. You wouldn’t have simply left without so much as a ‘congratulations’, not to mention that Zayne had been your ride here. 

By the third time your phone had gone to voicemail, Zayne was nervous. That was when he started asking around. He’d pulled up a photo of you, showing it to various employees and asking if anyone had happened to see you leave. 

It was a security guard that told him you’d been arrested.

He left immediately, having the directions already pulled up before he made it out to the car. 

Now, he paced, an amalgamation of concern, confusion, and stress. 

A buzzing sound emanated from somewhere down the hall, and Zayne’s head whipped toward the sound to see you being led out by an officer, still wearing the outfit that matched his tie color. 

The red knuckles weren’t easy to miss. 

While he did still open the car door for you, he chose a tactical silence for the duration of the car ride. There wouldn’t be a single word spoken until you were back in the hotel room. This was a calculated method by Zayne. He knew you’d be absolutely squirming by the time you guys made it back, and that was exactly what he wanted. 

The door to your shared room clicked shut behind Zayne, who’d entered behind you. He leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest. He raised an expectant eyebrow at you, his eye flitting between your flustered face and reddened knuckles on your dominant hand. 

It was hard to take him seriously when he looked that handsome in a tux.

“I…may have overreacted,” You finally said, your voice coming out timid. 

“Can you go anywhere without picking a fight?” He responded, his tone exasperated. 

You swallowed. 

“I can…”

Zayne took a steadying breath. He moved from the door and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what happened,”

You had been out looking at all of the posters on the wall, reading the lists of different accomplishments and awards printed under each attendee, waiting for the banquet to end. Zayne had already received his awards, but was still backstage and not allowed to leave. Some of the audience, including you, had stepped out of the auditorium throughout the banquet. You had originally just wanted some air. The auditorium had been stuffy, and the fancy outfit you had on was not helping. 

While you were out admiring the different posters, you heard a woman making some pretty rude comments about the poster she and her friends were in front of. At first, you just scoffed. You couldn’t imagine being so bitter. Was it so hard to be supportive of others, even if they weren’t the one you came for?

And then, you realized which poster she was standing in front of. 

Zayne.

Imagine this: You happen to be involved with an incredibly smart, talented, and stunning man that just so happens to be a Chief Cardiac Surgeon at only 27 years old. The same man that has made evolutionary discoveries and progress in treating cardiac abnormalities. The same man that you absolutely adored, and wanted nothing but the absolute best for. All of this is great, right? Now imagine hearing someone say something completely horrible about him right in front of you.

At first, the confrontation had started off as just a scolding. You’d told the woman that it wasn’t right to say horrible things about the attendees. They all did such incredible things that they were receiving awards for, after all. This was not the place for such behavior. 

And then, she just….kept going. 

Before long, you’d quickly ended the conversation with an abrupt bitch-slap. Security had already been approaching when your hand connected with her face. You weren’t going to tell Zayne this, but you’d actually gotten tackled. 

You gave Zayne the shortened version of the story, leaving out all of the gushing. 

Initially, he was quiet again as he tried to process what you’d just told him. 

Lady. Talking bad. Zayne. Slap.

For a moment, he couldn’t understand why you’d even resort to that. But when he looked at you, looking at him with eyes full of love and respect, he softened a little. While he didn’t necessarily agree with your methods, who was he to dictate how a person should react to any scenario?

He patted the spot next to him, still trying to form an appropriate response. You sat willingly, leaning into his side. He looped an arm around your waist. 

You sat in silence for a few minutes longer before he finally spoke. 

“The logical part of me should scold you, (Y/N). That was a bit overboard,” 

You looked up at him. His words implied that the logical part of him wasn’t the one that was winning whatever internal battle he had going on. “And what does the other part of you think?”

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Truthfully?”

You nodded, nearly melting at the sudden affection. His lips showed the faintest hint of a smile. “Truthfully, I’m flattered,”

❀yk how Raf blushes and pouts when you do the Heartbeat interaction??

❀ yeahhhh

❀ but also.....feelings

When Rafayel learned you’d been thrown out of his newest exhibition, he was initially pretty offended. He didn’t even want to be there to begin with. You were the only reason he’d forced himself to come, though he’d never admit it out loud. He had an arsenal of complaints ready to fire off the second he met you outside, after he reasoned with security, of course. 

It was Thomas who had weaved through the crowd, placed an urgent hand on Rafayel’s shoulder, and leaned close to speak for only the artist’s ears: “Security just dragged (Y/N) out of here. She hit someone,” 

The confrontation had luckily gone mostly unnoticed. It happened quick, and security had whisked you out. You’d gone willingly, and the man you’d struck no longer felt like sticking around either. 

Somewhere during the short walk from the back of the building to the front doors, your reason for lashing out had gotten lost in translation. Rafayel was under the impression that you’d thrown hands because someone had dissed his art. 

That, however, was an unfortunate misunderstanding. 

It wasn’t his art that the man had described as ‘worthless.’ It was Rafayel. 

Rafayel had smooth-talked security into letting you come back inside, with the condition that you would not be a problem for the remainder of the night. 

Rafayel had been flattered, but definitely thought you’d overreacted. 

“Not everyone can say they have a bodyguard this protective over art,” He teased, casting an amused glance in your direction. “Think we can make it through the rest of today without another attack?” 

You’d rolled your eyes, still a bit peeved. Who the hell comes to an exhibit specifically to dog the artist, anyway? “That’s not even what happened,” You grumbled. 

“People critique art all the tiiime. That doesn’t mean they should get assaulted over it,” 

“It’s different,” 

“I’m just saying. I’ve never punched anyone at an art gallery. Maybe you’re taking the Bodyguard title too seriously,” 

“Rafayel. You were the art,” 

Rafayel came to an abrupt stop, the air seemingly vanishing from his lungs. He’d heard you. He’d definitely heard you. His brain, however, was doing backflips, struggling to process your last sentence. 

You were the art. 

The gears clicked into place, his cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each passing second. In all honesty, he was conflicted. He was torn between the all-encompassing warmth, the feeling of being appreciated and thought so highly of that you would deck someone in the face purely for speaking ill on his name. The other half of him felt almost bitter. 

You were that same silly girl with a bad memory. And yet, here you were, fighting someone off of instinct when they said something nasty about him. 

You could do that, yet there was so much you couldn’t remember.

He was in a war with his thoughts and emotions, and unbeknownst to you, you were once again the cause. 

He finally collected himself, masking the emotional roller coaster he’d just been on with a chuckle. He patted the top of your head, settling on a teasing comment rather than risking opening the floodgates. 

“You’re so weird, Miss Bodyguard,” 

Rafayel would end up finding you in every lifetime, over and over again, no matter the cost. He’d remember every promise, every touch, every stolen moment. Yet, in every single timeline, you always found a way to make his head spin and his heart do cartwheels in his chest. 

This would forever stick out as one of those moments.  

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ SOFT SYLUS.

Sylus had invited you to tag along on yet another negotiation. He’d claimed he just liked having you at his side, but he truthfully respected your input more than he’d admit out loud. He’d often bring you along under the guise of keeping him company, but would subtly pay attention to your body language and facial expressions. If you weren’t going to bite, neither was he. 

After the first negotiation you attended, you as Sylus’ +1 became a much more frequent occurrence. As long as he was in the room, your safety was guaranteed. Not to mention how a lot of potential deals went off a little smoother when you were in the room to ease the tension. 

Today, the two of you were headed to a hotel a few cities away to meet with a man named Michael. You didn’t have many details about the deal, but you had the basics. If there was anything you needed to know, Sylus would tell you. 

It had taken you exactly 6 seconds after entering the room to decide that you did not like Michael. There was just something about him that had already gotten on your nerves. The arrogance? The ‘up-to-no-good’ vibe he absolutely reeked of?  The way he looked at the two of you like you were nothing more than pests the moment you walked in? 

While it was just you and Sylus on your side of the bargain, Michael had 6 armed guards scattered through the room, which added to your irritation. Michael was clearly a man that thrived off intimidation, yet was too cowardly to have an even playing field. 

Sylus never lost his nonchalance. He strode in like he had nothing to lose, suave and unbothered. He kept a hand pressed lightly against the small of your back as he guided you to a seat, a silent reassurance that everything would be fine.

The meeting had began, but not without Sylus catching how your mood had soured considerably within the first 10 minutes. 

The more Michael talked, the shadier the whole ordeal seemed. He was boasting about some modified protocore that was the ‘best on the market,’ and trying to goad Sylus into purchasing it. 

Sylus wasn’t dumb by any means. But Sylus was also a man that would humor someone for his own entertainment. “Show it to me,” He said, his tone even.

One of the guards gestured for Sylus to follow, and he immediately turned to you, waiting for you to come as well. Instead, you shook your head. You didn’t want to risk being ambushed when you came back if both of you left. Sylus trusted your judgment, knowing that he would be gone for less than 5 minutes. With a quiet “Behave,” cast in your direction, he disappeared with the guard. 

The second the door shut behind him, Michael turned to one of his guards and said something you probably weren’t supposed to hear.  “I’m going to walk that bastard like a dog, just watch.” 

Oh? 

In hindsight, it would have been better to keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was give Sylus a signal when he returned, and he would call this off with no hesitation. Your opinion mattered, after all. He didn’t just bring you to these meetings to serve as eye candy. Knowing this, you should have just brushed Michael’s comment off. However, it had gotten under your skin in a way you couldn’t shake off. The words were leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

“I’d like to see you try,” 

Michael, and all 5 of his remaining guards, immediately looked at you as if locking onto a target. The tension in the room intensified considerably.

Michael scoffed, looking at you as if you were a bug he’d stepped on. You glanced toward the door Sylus had stepped out of moments before, half expecting him to be standing there with an amused smirk on his face. He wasn’t, though.

Michael was on his feet, taking slow steps toward the chair you were sitting in. Despite the shaking in your fingers, you stayed put. “You must think so highly of him,” He drawled, zeroing in on you. “I didn’t know a man like that could catch the attention of a pretty thing like you,”

You didn’t know why, but your anger was rising with each passing second. The implication of his words was clear, but you wanted to hear him say it. It was obvious that he thought of himself higher than Sylus, and clearly didn’t have many polite thoughts about him. You and Sylus weren’t necessarily a… ‘thing,’ per se. Not yet, anyway.  So why did this piss you off so badly?

“A man like what?” You challenged, staring up at Michael. In your lap, your hands, that had been neatly folded, were slowly clenching into fists.

Michael's mouth twisted into a wolfish, arrogant grin. “I’d say he takes up more space than he’s worth. Cocky, foolish, insufferable–”

Your fist had connected with his jaw before he could get another word out, sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his jaw as he tried to regain his footing. 

It would take you about a week to fully process how the next 15 seconds had gone.

At first, the silence was so intense that you could audibly hear the rapid beat of your own heart.

Then, guns were raised and pointed directly at you. 5 from the guards, all at separate angles, and one directly in front of you from Michael himself. 

Next, gunfire. A lot of gunfire. Multiple shots ringing out from 6 different directions. 

You weren’t exactly sure when Sylus had entered, but he apparently had the timing of a God. You’d been whisked out of harm's way, somehow completely uninjured. You realized later that he likely used his evol somewhere in the mix.

Once safely away from the hotel, Sylus turned to face you, lips set in a thin line but his expression otherwise neutral. He studied you for a long moment. 

“That went well,” He said, his tone lacking any amusement. “Should I not trust you enough to leave you unattended for two minutes?”

You folded your arms over your chest. You didn’t trust the sound of your voice yet. You knew you owed him an explanation, but the adrenaline was still too high and you were still too angry to speak.

Sylus checked you for any injuries and then, to your surprise, grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.  

“You need to be more careful who you pick fights with,” He warned. His tone was firm, but not unkind. He knew you were more than capable of handling yourself. It was one of the things he appreciated about you. However, the fight today had left a bitter taste in his mouth. This was the first time he hadn’t been in the room the entire time. It could have been a lot worse, and you weren’t bulletproof. This was the first time he’d left you alone for more than 30 seconds, and it had ended with you in a shootout. 

“Maybe he shouldn’t have been talking shit about you the second you walked away,” You retorted, your voice coming out bitter. “Right in front of me. It was just��disrespectful.”

Sylus, who had assumed Michael had started it on his own, was stunned. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have any quips or sarcastic comments to make. That was what had caused the fight? You, the same person that used to look at him with so much distrust and caution, had thrown yourself into a fight to defend his name while he wasn’t in the room. 

Sylus was silent for a moment, his eyes combing your face for any hint of deception. When your words finally sank in, he nearly melted on the spot. The adoration he’d already felt was intensified. The warmth he felt in his chest was almost too much, and he wasn’t sure whether he should scold you or kiss you. 

Instead, he gently tugged you against his chest, choosing to simply hold you for a moment. It felt like the only correct option. His chin rested against the top of your head, one arm looped around your back as the other cradled your head. He was absolutely flattered, and outrageously smitten.

Yeah, he had it bad. 

“Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and do something else that surprises me,” He murmured fondly, rubbing small circles into your back. You were an endless mystery to him. But as he stood there, holding you against him, he knew he’d happily spend the rest of his life trying to figure you out. 

Note: 1.4k words just for Sylus I am SO SORRY but I needed this man getting all soft with this prompt slkdhjsalkhd