#and one time they did when he really didn't want them to

[charmedimsure]

Hello! Can I order a Dae Ho one-shot? about the reader who comes to the game pregnant and meets Dae Ho there and they have some kind of connection and he tells her that when they get out of there he would like to be with her and the baby.

thank you and happy new year <3

*slams bell* ORDER UP! (im sorry that was so cringey)

The Three of Us

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader

summary: Trying to make it out of the games with both you and your baby's lives, you meet a man who is determined to help.

word count: 6.3k (i did not expect it to be this long thats what she said)

warnings: pregnancy, guns, death, blood, squid game stuff

A/N: i love jun-hee, but the reader replaces her in this fic. reader has no connection to myung-gi (333). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

The second game is about to start, and time is running out for you to find a team. You've approached a few groups, but have been turned away by all of them. Turns out most groups don't want women on their team.

Out of the corner of your eye you spot the man who had won these games before, along with the man who beat up those other players the day before. Figuring you might as well take a shot, you approach them.

Just as you get to them, a handsome man comes running over, pulling a player along behind him. "Sir! I got someone! He'll definitely risk his life to win."

The man he brought salutes the others. "Victory at all costs!"

The shorter man in the group, player 390, smiles and salutes back. "Hey, were you in the Marines?"

"Class 946, sir!"

Player 390 laughs. "Boy, with three ex-Marines, we'll be invincible." He turns to players 001 and 456. "What do you think? I like him."

Great, you think to yourself. Now they get to pick between an ex-Marine and a woman who can barely stand for more than 20 minutes at a time. Still though, this is a good team, and you'll be damned if you don't at least try.

"Excuse me," you say, getting the group's attention. "Please let me join your team."

Player 390 speaks up. "Sorry, we've already got five people."

Fuck it. Time to pull out the big guns.

"Please help me," you plead, leaning back a bit and putting your hand up to your swollen belly. "I'm pregnant."

All five men grow silent as they look down to your stomach.

<>

"Time for team selection is up."

You can feel the stares of your new team on you as the second game is announced. You just look forward, trying to listen to voice.

"The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each player will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the mini games. Number one, Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gong-gi. Number four, Spinning Top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide players for each mini-game."

Player 390 turns to his friend. "It's good that we got a woman." He turns to you. "You can play Gong-gi, right?"

You give him a sorry look as you shake your head.

His smile falters. "Don't girls play Gong-gi anymore?"

You look down at the sand. "I've played it, but I was never good at it."

You can see the disappointment on his face as he nods.

Player 388 takes a deep breath as he turns toward 390. "Actually, I can play Gong-gi."

390 gives him a confused look. "You? And ex-Marine?"

You give 390 a weird look. Is it really that hard to believe that a military man has played a kid's game before?

388 gets embarrassed. "I grew up with four older sisters. I used to play it with them from time to time."

You smile, thinking it's sweet that he used to play games with his sisters.

390 claps him on the back. "That's right. There's nothing a Marine can't do."

Player 456 leans forward to look at all of you. "Everyone else, what game are you confident playing?"

You take a deep breath. Jegi was the game you were best at growing up, but you don't think you'll be able to play it in your condition. You lean forward as well. "I can play Ddakji. At the subway station I flipped the guy's on my first try."

390 nods. "Okay. Miss 222, you can play Ddakji. I'll play Flying Stone. I was a pitcher for my baseball team. I'm good at throwing."

As 456 and 001 decide who will play Jegi and who will play Spinning Top, 388 turns to you.

"Did you really beat him on the first try? It took me at least eight."

You breathe out a laugh and give him a small smile. "Yeah. I probably could have paid off my debt if he had let us keep playing." Your smile falters as you rest your hand on your swollen stomach. "It would have been safer for the baby."

388 frowns sympathetically and scoots a bit towards you. "We will get out of here. And after that, we will go home. You and your baby will be safe."

Although you don't completely believe him, you still give him a smile and thank him for his kind words.

You feel movement in your stomach and let out a small yelp at the unexpected feeling, looking down towards your hand.

"Are you alright? What happened?" 388 asks, concern clear on his face.

With a smile, you lift your head to look at him and the others who have directed their attention to you. "I felt the baby kick."

Player 388 breaks out into a smile as he looks to your belly, seemingly fascinated by what is happening inside of you.

Player 001 lets out a loud laugh. "The baby wants to play Jegi."

You let out a chuckle as the men laugh. You made a good choice asking these players for help.

"All right guys, bring your hands together," 390 says, sticking his hand out in front of him. "All together now."

You need to scoot over a bit, but you put your hand on the pile on top of 388's, who gives you a shy smile.

"On three, we go, 'Victory at all costs.' One, two, three..."

"Victory at all costs!"

<>

The walls open and forklifts are brought in holding boxes with pink bows on top. You watch as the bodies of both teams are separated from each other and placed into each box. One team had made it past the fourth mini-game, while the other had only just finished the second. Both teams were executed.

The bodies are eventually cleared out, but the blood remains on the track. The second team lines up and you recognize the sweet old lady who had given you her egg this morning, as well as her son. Shit, you really hope they make it.

The gun fires and they're off. The first girl, player 095, looks so nervous I'm worried she won't be able to throw the Ddakji. Her first three attempts fail, and she looks as though she won't be able to continue. Player 120 whispers something to her and she nods. She picks up the Ddakji, turns in over in her hand, and smacks it to the floor. Success.

The group celebrates as they move on, and you make a mental note of that little trick for when it's your turn.

Next is player 007, the son. He throws the stone and misses. Instead of panicking like the past groups, they quickly grab the stone and move backwards to the line, saving lots of time. As 007 is preparing to throw the stone again, his mother whispers something to him. A look of anger washes over his face.

"That asshole ruined my fucking life!"

A perfect hit. The entire crowd cheers as they advance to the next mini-game. You smile to yourself. They can do this.

Next is the mother playing Gong-gi. She drops her first two tries. You're guessing it must be at least a few decades since she last played.

"Old hag! What are you doi-"

Player 120 puts her hand over player 044's mouth to shut her up.

You watch as 007 speaks to his mother. With a new look of determination in her eyes, she blasts through Gong-gi until she needs to make the final catch. You and player 388 sit on your heels to get a better look. Her son speaks to her again, and face turns to one of rage.

"Rotten bitch!"

All five pieces end up in her hand.

"She did it!" Player 390 says, getting to his feet, 388 following after him. You try to get up but fall back as you lose your balance. Player 388 notices and holds your arms to help you up, keeping a hand on your back to keep you steady as you stand to watch the next game.

044 fumbles the top as she's wrapping it, but quickly retrieves it and tries again. She fumbles a few more times before stopping. Her team freaks out as she stands there mumbling to herself.

A gasp rings out through the crowd as 120 slaps 044 twice, picking up the fallen top and pointing it threateningly at 044's eye.

"Oh shit," you say under your breath.

Player 044 wipes away the blood streaming from her nose and tries again the wrap the string around the top. She gets it on her first throw and the crowd screams in joy as they move to the next one. Everyone is standing now to watch, chanting along to each step.

Player 120 is handed the Jegi and requests that everyone turns around. Not wanting to mess them up, everyone turns without hesitation. The room is silent besides the sound of the Jegi hitting 120's shoes.

Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five times.

It's done! They did it!

The rooms bursts into screams as the team crosses the finish line at the last second. You turn and hug 388 in pure joy as he jumps up and down. He quickly pulls away so he doesn't do anything to harm the baby, but keeps his arm around you as he celebrates with 390.

The teams keep going, with everyone celebrating the wins and wincing at the gunfire until it is finally your turn.

As you walk to the starting position, a hand gently grabs your wrist and you turn to see player 388. "Make sure to be careful. Take it easy and don't strain yourself."

You nod with a small smile and thank him, taking your spot in the outer ring of the small track. You take deep breaths as the harnesses are secured around your ankles.

"It's a little sad that we have no audience, isn't it?" 390 says, worry in his voice. He nudges 388. "Hey, are you scared?"

"No sir!" 388 yells, making you jump a bit as you were not expecting it. "It's quiet and easier to focus without anyone watching."

390 looks towards the other team. "Hey guys! We'll see you again at the finish line! Victory at all costs!"

The other team yells back their thanks and support before the pistol is fired and you're off.

When you approach the first mini-game, you take the blue tile and turn it over in your hand to match 095's. Throwing it hard at the floor, you yell in delight as the red tile flips over.

You move on to the next game, holding your stomach as you walk.

As 390 takes the stone, 388 yells out "Let's get this done the first time! I believe in you!"

"When I played baseball, my pitches might have been slow, but I had excellent ball control." You watch as the stones collide and yell out in victory as you move to the next one.

388 takes the Gong-gi pieces and you all crouch down.

390 faces him. "Dae-ho, stay calm. Even if you mess up..."

Player 388, or Dae-ho, puts his finger over his mouth to shush him before facing the board, rolling his wrist a few times and dropping the pieces. As quickly as he can, Dae-ho flawlessly gets through the game and catches all five pieces. You and your team members look at each other in awe of what you just watched. It seems that even Dae-ho can't believe he did it.

He lets out a scream as the guard confirms that he passed.

"That was amazing!" Player 390 yells. "Dae-ho, my boy!"

As you move to the fourth mini game, Player 390 looks down at you. "You're expecting, so be careful."

You nod but try to keep your pace, leaning on the small green table once you get to where you need to be.

As player 001 wraps the string around the top, Dae-ho bounces excitedly. "We might get through everything on the first attempt!"

Player 001 throws the top and it falls lazily to the floor as you all frown.

"It's okay, we have enough time," 456 says. "Let's go pick it up. Ready, go."

You all move forward together to grab the top. "No fun passing everything without a hitch," 390 says.

"That's right," 388 confirms. "You can't grow without failure, right?"

You guess he's right, but it would've been nice to pass everything easily. At least you still have three minutes left.

001 grabs the top and you move back to your spots. On his next throw you watch helplessly as the top flies behind your group. You would have laughed in any other situation.

Player 001 apologizes and you move back to grab the top, with 001 taking his sweet time to pick it up. To save time, he tries wrapping it as you walk forward again, but he breaks out of the arm link in frustration. This time he throws it as soon as it is wrapped. It doesn't spin, but at least it lands directly in front of him so you don't have to move again.

Player 456 picks up the top as 001 sighs in frustration. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He screams and you gasp when he starts slapping himself and calling himself an idiot.

456 takes his arms to stop him. "Try to remember the times when you had fun playing this."

001 nods and takes the top and string again. You take the time to look at the clock and feel a wave of worry wash over you when you see that you have less than a minute left. This time, 001 throws the top with his left hand and it spins perfectly on its axle.

You yell in joy as you quickly links arms again and move to the last game. Player 390 checks on you again as you move, and you just wave him off. The stress can't be good for the baby, but it's definitely not as bad as a bullet.

456 grabs the jegi and moves the pink soldier out of the way. He throws it up.

One hit. Two hits. Three hits. Four hits...

You watch in horror as the jegi flies in front of 456. Quickly, 001 kicks his foot out, making you all almost fall as the jegi lands on top of 456's left foot.

"Pass."

You all yell out victoriously and quickly move, crossing the finish line with a second to spare.

As you're all hugging each other, you flinch at the sounds of gunshots coming from the other side of the room. The other team didn't make it.

The main room is oddly quiet as you walk in. As happy as everyone was to see people pass while watching the games, they don't seem to be very happy about it now. Player 390 next to you waves at someone, and you look in the direction to see the woman and her son.

"That sweet old lady," he says with a smile. "I miss my mom."

You smile at the lady and bow your head to her as she gives you a big smile and two thumbs up.

As you sit down to rest and wait for the pink soldiers, 001 speaks up. "I'm sorry about earlier, everyone."

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the last kick," 456 says and you nod.

001 looks at you. "Player 222, are you feeling alright?"

You nod. "Yes. Thank you all for letting me be on your team."

Dae-ho smiles shyly and nods.

"She smashed that ddakji and flipped it on her first try, that was impressive," 390 says, making you smile at the praise. "She did great, even while carrying a baby. We were lucky she joined our team."

Dae-ho nods. "What about your Flying Stone play? You hit it with one shot! With an underhand pitch at that! Bam!" You let out a small laugh as he reenacts 390's throw. "You were like Kim Byung-hyun."

"And you?" 390 says. "Was Gong-gi the only game you ever played?" He quickly moves his hand around to imitate Dae-ho. "I could barely see your hand. It was like a martial arts movie."

Dae-ho laughs. "I'm the only son for two generations. My mom only let me play at home with my sisters."

"And yet they let their precious son join the Marines?" 390 questions.

Dae-ho hesitates. "My father's idea, he wanted me to be more of a man. He fought in the Vietnam War, you see."

"He sounds like a great man," 390 says and Dae-ho nods. "Was he a Marine, too?"

You can see the discomfort on Dae-ho's face and he quickly excuses himself from answering the question, instead standing up to face everyone. "Listen. Perhaps we should learn each other's names. I still don't know your names, gentlemen." He smiles a bit more when he looks to you. "Or your's, Miss. I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. 'Dae' means 'big', 'ho' means 'tiger'."

"'Big tiger.' Cool name," 390 says. "My name is Park Jung-bae. 'Righteous' and 'twice'. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."

You go next, stating your name for the group. "I don't know what it means, though."

001 says your name, getting your attention. "When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."

You nod. "Okay."

"I'm Oh Young-il," 001 says. He points out how it sounds like his number and the group laughs at the coincidence. Young-il turns to 456. "Oh, Gi-hun, what's your last name?"

"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun says.

"'Seong' literally means 'last name'," Young-il laughs aloud by himself.

A loud buzz is heard and the guards enter the room. After revealing the results of the game and announcing the next vote, your team turns to each other.

You look down at the red X on your track suit, and look up to see the blue 'O' on Dae-ho's. He sees your gaze and frowns down at his patch.

"I'm telling you, we'll get out this time," he says to the team, though he is mainly looking at you. He looks down at his patch again and curses under his breath. "A Marine should think strategically and know when to retreat." He puts a hand on Jung-bae's shoulder. "Isn't that right, brother?"

"Yeah, you're right," Jung-bae says weakly. "Marines aren't invincible. We should get out." Despite saying this, the look on his face and the nervousness in his tone contradict his words.

"We have to end the games here," Gi-hun says. He turns to look at you. "I will help you guys when we get out. Please trust me and support this vote."

You smile and nod in thanks.

"Guys, all huddle up again," Dae-ho smiles as he sticks out his hand.

"Victory at all costs."

<>

You frown as the buzzer goes off one last time. There had been some... complications during the voting. This lead to the final vote being 116 for X and 139 for O. Standing next to Dae-ho, you don't miss the look of betrayal on his face as he looks over to Jung-bae with the blue patch on his chest.

Dae-ho lets out a loud sigh as you eat your bread. "Brother! Brother Jung-bae!"

You can see Jung-bae tense up from his spot behind the beds.

With a sigh, Dae-ho stands up and approaches the man. "Hey, just come back here."

"No, I'm good here," you hear Jung-bae answer. You roll your eyes.

"Oh, come on." Dae-ho grabs Jung-bae and drags him to face the group.

He stops and stares at you all before speaking. "I'm sorry. I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I'll be able to settle my debt."

"Jung-bae," Young-il addresses the man sadly. "You of all people shouldn't have done it. It's not twice as righteous." He sighs before continuing. "But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted."

Jung-bae jumps at this. "Right? It's not entirely my fault."

"Alright," Dae-ho steps up. "To be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn't enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game."

Jung-bae hugs the man. "You did?"

Dae-ho pushes him away. "I said I get it."

The shorter man turns back to the group. "Thank you for understanding. But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn't we? If we stick together one more time, I'm sure we'll be fine." He turns to you. "I'll make sure we survive the next game-"

"'The next game'?" Gi-hun cuts him off. "In the next game, we might have to kill each other."

There is silence before Young-il speaks up. "Gi-hun, that's a bit much. There's nothing we can do now, so let's try to stay positive. We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again." He picks up his milk and hands it to you. "Here, you can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game."

You shake your head. "No, that's okay."

"Take it. I don't drink plain milk."

You thank him as you take the milk.

Jung-bae takes the bread out of his pocket. "Have my bread, too. I don't deserve to eat."

You smile as you take it. You have been feeling hungry and one piece of bread would definitely not be enough for you, so you're grateful for the men around you.

"I'll take your milk then," Dae-ho says to Jung-bae.

Before you can stop yourself, a loud laugh escapes from your mouth. The others smile before laughing along as well. You look over to Dae-ho to see a blush covering his face as he smiles.

<>

"Pass it to me."

The guys hand each other mattresses as they move them to under the beds. You had been put in charge of collecting blankets and pillows so you wouldn't strain yourself.

"Is this really necessary?" Jung-bae asks. "I don't like sleeping under there."

"Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us," Gi-hun says as he pushes another mattress under a bed frame.

"What?" Dae-ho asks. "Who?"

"The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It's part of the game they designed."

"Gi-hun, I think you're overreacting here," Young-il says. "Even if that were true, people wouldn't do that."

Gi-hun turns to face him. "In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here. You have no idea how people can change in this place."

Young-il apologizes and you hand the blankets in your arms to Jung-bae.

"We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out," Gi-hun says. "I'll take the first, you should decide the order for the rest."

The order decided was that Jung-bae would take over after Gi-hun, then Dae-ho, then Young-il would be last. You tried to volunteer to keep watch but they immediately shot you down, saying you needed the rest more than them.

<>

After a trip to the bathroom with players 149 and 120, whose names you still did not know, you come back to find Dae-ho keeping watch. You try to quickly wipe the tear stains from your cheeks as you walk back to the makeshift shelter. You give a quick nod to Dae-ho before trying to move past him, but he calls out your name, making you stop and turn to look at him.

He looks up at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

You put on a smile and nod. "Yes, I'm fine." As you try to walk away you feel his hand gently grab your wrist to stop you.

"No you're not," he says. You sigh, upset that you've been caught. He moves to the side to give you space and you sit next to him, figuring you're not gonna get out of this. "What happened? Was it the baby?"

You shake your head, feeling tears start to well up again. "It's everything." You put your head in your hands. "I never should have played Ddakji with that guy, I never should have called the number, I should have just stayed at home and prepared for the baby."

Dae-ho gently rubs your back as you cry into your sleeves. Even though you really only just met, he feels connected to you. Maybe it's just because you survived the second game together, but he cares for you and doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. He was stunned when you had walked up to the group before the game and asked to join, immediately regretting picking anyone besides the beautiful stranger that was standing in front of him.

"What about your husband?" Dae-ho asks. "Does he know that you're here?"

You shake your head. "I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend. It's just me and the baby." You turn to look at him and although he's too kind to ask you how you got knocked up, you can see the question all over his face. "My ex-boyfriend is the reason I got into so much debt. He made a lot of bad investments and when he ran out of his own money, he started using mine. When I told him I was pregnant, he freaked out and left. Didn't even say anything, his stuff was just all gone one day."

Dae-ho feels himself getting angry at this. If he found out a man had done this with one of his sisters, he would do something to him that would probably land him in prison. It takes two people to make a baby. Just because the mother is the one that carries it doesn't mean that the father isn't responsible for the child.

"He's a fucking coward," Dae-ho says, making you snort a small laugh. "And he's an idiot to leave you."

"It's for the best, though," you say. "He wasn't a good boyfriend, I knew that even while we were dating. But he was my first love, and we all do stupid things the first time we're in love." Dae-ho nods, watching as you bring your hand to rest on your stomach. "I only wish that my child would have a father in their life."

"They will have an amazing mother, though," he says, making you smile.

"I hope so," you rub your swollen belly. "Hey, Dae-ho, can I ask you something?"

Dae-ho nods, looking at you with intrigue.

"Earlier you told Jung-bae that you had thought about voting to stay. Why didn't you?" You ask.

The man takes a deep breath. "Honestly, I thought of you. You and your baby. When you told us that you're pregnant, it really hit me that I'm not the only person in here, that there are other lives at risk. If you died, it wouldn't just be the end of your life. Your baby doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that."

You can't help the smile that blooms on your face at his words, as well as the small blush. "Thank you for thinking of me. You're a very sweet person, Kang Dae-ho." You watch as he gives you a shy smile, a light dusting of pink on his face. "What about you? Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you back home?"

He shakes his head. "No, just me." You give him an incredulous look and he chuckles. "Dating wasn't easy while in the Marines, and I guess I just never found anyone that interested me enough after."

You let out a small laugh. "Sounds like you have high standards."

He chuckles. "I'm just waiting to find the one. They say that when you know, you know."

"That's going to be one very lucky girl," you say, watching as the blush on his face deepens. "I hope you find her soon."

"I can't explain why, but I feel like I will." He smiles down at you with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. After a few moments he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've kept you up for so long, you should get some sleep. You'll likely need your energy for tomorrow's game."

You nod, standing up. "You're right, I've been up too long." You start to move towards your mattress, but stop. "It was nice talking to you, Dae-ho."

He smiles at you. "Goodnight."

You smile back. "Goodnight."

For the rest of his watch, Dae-ho sneaks peaks at your sleeping form, a warm feeling running through him when he thinks about your words.

<>

You awake to the feeling of someone shaking you. Groggily opening your eyes, you see Dae-ho leaning over you.

"The next game is starting soon, we need to get up," he says.

You hear the classical music that has played before every game and nod, allowing him to help you get out of bed. "Nothing to start the day off like a sadistic game and fearing for your life, huh?"

Dae-ho lets out a chuckle as you make your way to the doors. He walks behind you on the stairs to make sure you don't fall, and stands right by your side as the curtains are opened to reveal the game room.

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle. All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

"Oh, this game?" Jung-bae says. "We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging."

"I played it too," you say. "But we would hold hands instead."

Together you set up a strategy. If the number is five, you'll all go together. If it's more than five, you'll grab however many people we need. If it's smaller than five, you'll break off into groups. When your strategy is done, you put your hands in the center.

"Victory at all costs."

<>

"Let the game begin."

The platform jerks as it starts rotating, and you almost lose your balance, but Dae-ho is there to grab you and steady you on your feet.

"Ten."

Everyone starts looking around like mad as they try to find ten players.

Gi-hun looks to a player behind him. "How many are you?"

"Four," the woman replies. You recognize her as one of the women who came to the bathroom with you last night.

"That makes us nine!" Jung-bae says.

A man from another group comes running over. "Are you five? We need five!"

Before any of you can answer, another player yells back. "We have five people! Come with us!"

The two groups go running off towards a door.

"We have to hurry!" Gi-hun says.

"There's no time, Gi-hun!" Young-il tells him.

"We need one more!" the tall woman yells. She spots someone by herself near the center of the platform and grabs her. "We have ten!"

"Room 44! Green door! Hurry!" Young-il yells, already running off in the direction of the door.

You run as fast as you can towards the door as Young-il holds it open for everyone to get inside. You feel Dae-ho's hand on the small of your back the entire way to the room. Before you get the chance to even think, the clock runs out, and the lock clicks on the door.

Screams and gunshots can be heard from behind the door, the sad fate of those who didn't make it in time.

Dae-ho turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "How are you feeling? Is everything okay?"

"A bit out of breath, but I'm okay," you say, and he nods. Taking the chance to look around the room, you see that the other five is the first group that passed the pentathlon the day before.

"You're alive thanks to me!" Player 044 yells out, making you jump. She looks over everyone before stopping on you and stepping closer, making you take a step back. Dae-ho holds you close to him as the woman looks down at your stomach. She then looks up at Dae-ho and gives him a knowing smirk before leaving to speak to Gi-hun.

You look up at Dae-ho, who is still holding you to his chest. He watches the woman walk away before look down at you, your faces so close that your noses are only a few inches apart.

Once the bodies are removed from the playing area, you're let out of the room and make your way back to the center platform. The next round is four people to a room, and Young-il goes off on his own to find three more as the rest of you run to a room with a purple door.

Once you're let out, Dae-ho and Jung-bae yell for Young-il before a voice calling Gi-hun's name grabs your attention. You look over with relief to see Young-il jogging up to your group.

"I knew you were going to be okay!" Jung-bae smiles as he pulls Young-il in for a hug. "I knew it. You're not just anybody."

"I was worried," Gi-hun says. "I'm glad you made it."

Young-il smiles. "I'm a likable guy, so I'm good at games like this." He turns to you. "Are you feeling alright?"

You nod with a smile. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm glad you're back."

Young-il gives you a smile, but his face turns serious. "Wait a minute," Young-il says, "if the next number is six, we won't need anyone else, will we?"

"Why not?" Dae-ho asks.

After a moment, Jung-bae laughs. "Oh, in her tummy?"

Dae-ho lets out a loud laugh. "Right, that makes six."

You smile as they joke around, looking down to your swollen belly.

The next round is three, so you, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae run to a room with an orange door. With every round, you can feel yourself growing more and more tired, and your feet are begging for relief from so much standing and moving.

Once you get out of the green room with Dae-ho and players 120, 095, 007, and 149 (you make a mental note to ask for their names once you're back in the main room), you feel exhausted. As you step onto the platform, Dae-ho grabs your arm to support you.

"Now, the final round will begin."

The platform begins to rotate and you lean on Dae-ho to keep yourself upright.

"What do you think it'll be this time?" Jung-bae leans forward to ask Gi-hun.

"Two," Young-il answers, getting our attention.

"Why?"

"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough rooms for everyone, only 100."

"Are you alright?" Dae-ho asks you, concern on his face.

You shake your head. "I don't think I can run anymore."

The platform stops and the lighting dims.

"Two."

Before you can tell what's happening, you are lifted off the ground. You hold on tightly to Dae-ho as he sprints to the nearest door with you in his arms. Once inside, he places you on the ground and moves toward the door, pushing his weight against it to keep anyone else from getting in and pushing you out.

You keep your gaze on the man. He saved your life. He saved your baby's life. Without hesitation. Hell, he even voted to leave for you yesterday. This man who only came into your life a day ago has shown you more unwavering loyalty than anyone else has before.

Then the realization dawns on you: you don't want to do this without him. You don't want anything to happen to him. You want to protect him, just as he is protecting you. Not just in the games, but always.

The lock on the door clicks into place and screams are heard from the other side of the door. Once the screams finish, Dae-ho kneels beside you.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, still in awe of the man in front of you. You examine his face and a surge of confidence rushes through you.

"Can I do something really stupid?"

Dae-ho gives you a confused look. "What?"

You grab his zip-up and pull him to you, planting your lips against his. You feel him stiffen and worry that you've made a terrible mistake, but before you can pull away, you feel one of his hands slide into your hair as the other moves to cup your cheek.

For a perfect moment, you're not in this crazy place. There's no debt, there's no death, there's no fear. There's just you and Dae-ho.

You pull away first but Dae-ho chases your lips, giving you a peck before resting his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.

"I promise you that I am going to get us out of here," he whispers to you. You feel his hand move down to your stomach. "The three of us. If you'll let me."

You gasp at his words, tears forming in your eyes as you nod. This time, you believe him. Dae-ho pulls you in for another kiss and you smile against his mouth, feeling him smile as well.

The sound of the door unlocking gains your attention and Dae-ho pulls away. Voices can be heard beyond the door.

Dae-ho stands up and holds out his hands for you to take, helping you to your feet. He wipes the stray tears from your cheeks and plants a kiss on your forehead before lacing your fingers together and leading you out of the room.

~

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck

Lmk if you want to be added to the Dae-ho taglist!

[toothfa-1-ry]

YOU STILL LIKE IT THOUGH

GENRE: Fluff, crack fic ish?

PAIRING: Choi su-bong/thanos x preg!fem!reader

FEAT: Nam gyu as the supportive bestie (that he never rlly was)

A/N: this fic i based of a request from anon !! Tbh i changed ALOT of the request (haha- sorry 😞) because I felt like it was a little repetitive and idk i just can't write rlly emotional scenes with Thanos for some reason (??) ALSO I feel like there are parts where Thanos seems ooc? Idk.. i wrote this instead of studying in the span of 30 mins

"Whoo!" You hear Thanos shout on the top of his voice while he high fives nam gyu as they both jump up and down as if they were children in elementary school after winning a play ground game

You manage your groan, suppressing it while you stare at them from afar, of course that crazy fucker managed to pass through the first game.

You hated to admit it, but a part of you was relieved,

You always had a thing for psycho guys, and your ex boyfriend? The one with the brightly dyed hair who was now doing some weird dance seemed to proudly embody every part of that sentiment.

You carefully watch from afar, not wanting to catch his eyes, your hand unknowingly lay over your stomach while you move uncomfortably in the bunk bed

Fuck, your feeling dizzy all over again

You hear a thud against your bed post, you look up slowly, your eyes slightly squinting to see the purple haired boy with a usual frown on his face

"Hey" his eyebrows raise "are you okay"

"I thought I told you to get lost earlier"

Your mood swings weren't really helping either

"Geez woman" thanos tchs but sits beside you in your bed anyways "im just trying to help" grumbling under his breath but the cautious expression in his face saied otherwise

"I came here to brag about how amazing i usually am but seeing you like this is just killing the vibe yknow"

he makes a hand gesture in the air, leaning face closer in an attempt to make you smile which does not go wasted as the smile you tried to supress escaped your face

"Fuck off you loser" your still kneeling, your hands over your knees and your face hiding behind your knees but he hears the smile in your voice anyways.

He wouldn't want to admit it, but he was relieved

He always had a thing for girls with pretty voices and you? The girl right next to him had to have one of the prettiest voices he had ever heard. Ofcourse who would better know than a rapper like himself?

"I thought I told you to stick close to me, instead you leech to that crazy old man" thanos says as he points towards gi hun who sat far away in the opposite side

You immediately slap his hand, causing him to wince while retracing it back, rubbing it softly

"How many times will I tell you! You shouldn't point your hands at strangers especially to people who are older" you scold him rather loudly causing him to wince even more

"Agh" thanos ruffles his neon hair while complaining "why don't you shout louder so that everyone will hear and laugh at me?"

You resist the urge to roll your eyes upon his childish manners, he really didn't change

Thanos suddenly bangs the top of the bunk with a loud sound, taking you by shock

"Oi" his voice loud and almost threatening "nam gyu" calling out the man above the bed

Immediately your taken by shock once more when a man's head pops upside down, with black oily hair falling all over his face from above the bed

"Yes Thanos?" Nam gyu quickly inquired while sparing you a quick glance which didn't go unnoticed by the scowling man next to you

"Did you hear her telling me off?" He points at nam gyu before quickly adding "careful, there's only one correct answer"

Nam gyu pauses and thinks which seems to be the wrong thing to do as it just annoys Thanos

"Whats wrong with you, tell me quickly!"

"N-no! Not at all! Infact nobody heard anything!" Nam gyu quickly says, obviously lying but this seemed to please Thanos who now held a haughty face

Wow, this is was supposedly the father of your unborn child. Shame you and your taste in weird guys

Before Thanos could open his mouth to say something, a group of pink guards enter the room with large containers

Straight away you freeze up, shrinking behind the bed while your heart hammered, fear spread across your face

Noticing your expression on your face, instinctively Thanos covers you with his back, shielding you with his arms which covered your sides while his expression, though you could not see was filled with wariness

The pink guards open the large containers they were carrying as everyone watched quietly, scared as they were unsure of what to expect, you included

The pink guard with the white circle lifts up a piece of bread and milk "lunch time" announcing in the same robotic voice like all the other guards

A sigh of relief escapes your mouth as your shoulders relax, unlike you Thanos still shields you, covering your face with his back

You hit him with a thud on the back of his head

"What the hell man" thanos turns around, his eyes glaring at you

"Stop trying to act like a hero you shameless prick" you frown even though his actions did leave you with a warm feeling in your heart

"Your acting so protective after all the stunt you pulled before we broke up" you continue "seeing you act all so protective is just pissing me off even more"

Thanos throws his head back, groaning "give me a break woman. You know I was going through a hard time"

"Bullshit" your fold your arms, as if it was act to protect yourself, and the unborn baby in your stomach.

The poor thing was only 2 months old

The both of you hear nam gyu cough from above the bed, forgetting that he was there in the first place

Again Thanos bangs the top of the bunk, causing you to give him a look

"Stop doing that" you scold him

"doing what?" Thanos raises his eyebrow before banging the top of the bunk again while sticking his tongue at you

Nam gyu pops back down again, upside down, the sight would have been hilarious only if you weren't experiencing the pain in your stomach and the sight of the man sitting beside you

"Go get lunch for me and my girl" thanos tilts his head towards you while avoiding your eyecontact while you tell yourself not to think about the fact that he still referred to you as 'his girl'

"go fast what are you still doing here" thanks reprimanded nam gyu

Nam gyu awkwardly stood unsure of what to say "but it's just one bread and one milk per person"

"Then give her yours" thanos said simply "and go steal someone's lunch for me"

"Then what about for me?" Nam gyu asked dumbfounded which caused Thanos to pause and think for a while

"That's not my fucking problem man- now go" he pushes him away, leaving you with a heavy sigh

"I don't want to eat"

"Don't talk bullshit" thanos eyes you "you think i'm gonna let you starve? I never did, and i wont be starting now"

Again with the whole protective boyfriend act, fuck, why did it make your heart race a little?

"Your still such an asshole, you didnt change a bit" you huffed as you leaned behind, resting your back against the wall

"Well you changed" thanos says which quirks your curiosity

"How so?'

"I don't know" he shrugs "something is different. Something happened, i can't exactly ppint my fi ger at it though"

Your eyes dart away from his while your breathing started to fasten slightly

"Oh yea? How so?" You ask, your voice slightly higher than it was which Thanos picks up immediately

"Ohoho" he grins "did I get it right? Did you get something done?" He glances you up and down which leads you to hitting him

"Ow- i was just joking, you still take everything so seriously" he grumbled holding your hand from hitting him "I wish that part had changed'

Your other hand comes swinging which he again grabs softly

"jokingg" he says in a sing song voice before letting both your arms go leaving you with a scowl and him with a satisfied smirk in his face

"Asshole" you mutter which stretches his smirk even more

"You still like it though"

You almost swear you heard a hint of vulnerability in his tone, prompting you to glance at him quickly just to catch him already looking at you

"So? Aren't you gonna ask me what has changed?" You ask slowly, in your head trying to process whether your doing the right thing or not,

You first found out you were pregnant with your baby right after you and Thanos broke up.

The following days, whenever you went to pay him a visit, he was always missing, causing you to believe maybe it was better for him not to know. And then you suddenly meet him for the first time after your breakup during the squid games

The timing was almost comical

"Why?" Thanos continued still with an amused face "you still seem the same on the inside"

Your hand immediately goes to your stomach, slowly tracing along it from above the green track jacket which everyone wore

"Don't tell me your sick or something" thanos asks with his voice slightly raised as he notices your action "fuck are you?"

His eyes slightly widens as he frowns "hey" he snaps his finger upon your zoning out "are you sick?"

"Hm?" You ask confused

"What the fuck" he swears under his breath with a anxious expression on his face while his hand runs through his finger "is that why your here? To win some money for your treatment?"

"Su Bong its not like that-" All your attempts of correcting him seemed to be futile as he sweared loudly, getting out of the bed

"Shit shit shit!" He grabs his head while he paced around the floor, a sight you had seen a few times over the span of your relationship

"ofcourse that's why your here, you would only be here for a sensible reason"

"Oh, su bong" you attempt to appeal to him, reaching your hand out, pulling his closer towards you while he hands were still over his head, eyes lowered

"Fuck baby I'm so sorry" he breathed out "shit i never should have left, i thought" he paused "I thought I'd win some money and get you back, give you the life you really deserve but"

You watch his dazed expression while he rambled, you bit you underlip, hesitant of whether to tell him the truth still

"Fuck, i didn't even know that, i didn't even know you were sick-"

Before he could continue again you grab his face , forcing him to look at your face

"I'm not sick, that's not why im here"

Thanos breathed heavily, everything felt so real suddenly, he felt his cross necklace strapped around his neck, his fingers itching to pop a pill in his mouth to sooth his nerves

"I'm not sick" you shake your head as you lean your forehead against his "su-bong"

You can still feel his strained breaths and darting eyes

"I'm pregnant"

And it all stopped,

You held your breath, afraid of what would happen if you let go, your could heart your heartbeat from your ears, feel the realisation setting inside thanos,

You were scared. Scared of how he would react

He breaks away first, slowly and gently. Staring at you with no expression in his face,

"And it's yours" you rapidly feel the need to add, taken back by his silence which didn't not suit him "and i know having a kid was never in your plan, and i know things are over between us but-"

Your body is wrapped by his arms and his face nestles in your neck, pulling your deeper in his embrace

"Holy shit" thanos whispers in your ear, you can hear the giddiness radiating off his voice "im a dad"

"Yea you are" you laugh a little as you say "your a dad"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I never got the chance to"

Thanos furrows his eyebrows but doesn't press any more "will you let me be our baby's dad?" He ask

"You know I grew up without a dad, this kid doesn't deserve that" he pokes your stomach with a soft grin which looked slightly odd against his eccentric features "I wanna be in this kids life"

You nodd softly, hearing his words

"And yours too" thanos looks up to you, grinning while he winked at you "senorita"

"You corny bastard" you laugh shaking your head

"You still like it though"

You nodd your head, with tenderness in your eyes and voice

"I do"

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ extra scene pack !!

"Thanos!" Nam gyu came running with 3 pieces of sweet bread and 3 packets of milk "I got it! Do you know how much trouble i went to get all these-"

"Give it here " thanos grabbed all the bread and milk away "why did you take so long anyways"

Nam gyu held his hands as he pouted "I mean- i had to fight like 2 guys for bread and milk for us-"

Thanos brushed him off as he opened all the packets of bread and poked in the straw of all the milk packets

"Uhm thanos" nam gyu apprehensively called out "What are you doing?"

Thanos hands you all the bread and urges you to eat while he holds the packets of milk in his hand, ready to feed you

Thanos gestures towards you who was sitting in the bed, now wrapped in not only your jacket but his aswell "can't you see the lady is pregnant"

Nam gyu scratched his head "pregnant? With who?"

Thanos shakes his head, exaggerating his actions "dumb ass, she's pregnant with my baby ofcourse" he announced like it was the most obvious thing in the world

"Holy shit!" Nam gyu gaped his hand covering his mouth as he stares at you while you sheepishly smile at him

Thanos let out a small laugh which then slowly grew louder

"What? Why are you surprised? Ofcourse i succeeded in my first try- fuck" he kneels down in pain after being striked by you in the stomach

Nam gyu pulls a face in behalf of Thanos as he pats his back sympathetically while he whispers to you

"Don't worry. I know it probably wasnt his first try or anything- ow" nam gyu kneels on the ground after being hit in the stomach by thanos

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

"What... what are you guys doing?" You question as you approach Thanos and nam gyu who were huddled up in a corner, in a long rather quiet conversation which seemed like an unusual activity for both of them to part take in

Both in the 'discussion' and 'quiet' part

Thanos loops his arm around your with a proud smirk on his face while urging nam gyu to announce what they were discussing

Nam gyu nodds eagerly as gets up in his two feet quickly, standing straight and tall with a loud and confident voice "we have decided the perfect name for the baby !!"

You see thanos's broad smile and nam gyu's confident voice, uneasiness settling in your stomach for whatever name they picked out

"These is the name that Thanos and i have personally given a lot of thought for and chosen after much contemplation !!"

Thanos nodded his head with a content expression while he winked at you, assuring that you'll like it

"Ahem" nam gyu clears his throat "before I announce the name that we have chosen, i would like to give recognition to the name we almost chose aswell !!"

Thanos immediately began clapping his hand loudly "waaah, I never knew you could speak so well "

This comment made nam gyu's chest fill swell with pride as he puffs out his chest a little

"I shall now, announce the first runners up, the name that almost was given to the new born baby"

nam gyu pauses which prompts Thanos to make the sound of drum rolls

"Nebula" nam gyu announces as he and thanos clap loudly.

Seeing your still figure both men urge you to claps aswell

"Nebula?" You mutter under your breath "where have i heard that name before?"

"And now, the name that has been selected over numerous selection test and discussion, the name of the baby is" nam gyu points at your stomach

"Gamora"

Thanos whoops loudly, both nam gyu and him clapping their hands in the air while you stand off handedly as it hits you

"Your naming our child after the daughter of the purple alien monster from a superhero movie?!"

[plethorawrites]

Oh, I really, really like your recent blurb! Jason having a secret girlfriend/family is my favorite trope, but it is so hard to find!

Would you write about silly instances where Jason spots his family in public and tries to shuffle and guide you away without you noticing?

Ahh! I feel that validated in both my love of Jason and my love of the secret relationship trope! (This might not be exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you like it anyway!)

The first time it happened was a few weeks into your relationship, back When the two of you would meet for breakfast or brunch at the little cafe, a few blocks away from where you worked.

Jason Todd would always show up, yawning and exhausted from how tired he always was since he hadn't told you about his night job yet. But he was still on time, excited to see you even if he would go straight home and nap immediately afterwards.

The two of you would always spend more time talking getting to know one another than actually looking over the menu and ordering something to eat, but neither of you minded.

Then, one day, while he was looking away from you to hide the smile you had caused, he caught sight of Tim waiting in line to order a coffee.

Without really thinking about it, he grabbed both of your menus, propping them up and leaning over the table, trying to hide both your faces.

You frowned in confusion but leaned in too, until your faces were close together. "What are you doing?" You whispered.

"Nothing," he lied poorly, being his head over the top of a menu to see if his brother was still there and darting his head back down when Tim walked past the table. He let out a breath of relief, staring at you. "You look really pretty this close."

With an amused eye roll you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms and waiting for a better explanation. "You just wanted to talk really close for a moment?"

"Okay, fine," he sighed heavily. "I wanted to look at your freckles, alright? They're adorable. The ones on your nose are really cute."

It wasn't a lie, technically. He did love them. And you actually believed him, he thought. Or if you didn't, you didn't push the topic.

The next time you accidentally ran into somebody was at the mall, when you had dragged Jason along to help you look for a dress for a mystery date night he said nothing about, except for the fact that you had to wear something nice.

It was just his luck that you had picked the same store Stephanie happened to be shopping in as well. In most circumstances, she might not even notice him when they crossed paths in public, but in a woman's clothing store which was relatively empty, there was no way she wouldn't see him when she turned around.

Without warning, he tugged you away from rack you were looking at, pulling you into a cramped dressing room, locking it behind you.

"Wha-" You stared at him like he had lost his mind. "Why are we the dressing room?"

"How do women try stuff on when they can't turn around?" He countered, ignoring your question and planting his hand on the wall by your head to try to give himself more room in the tight space.

"It's typically not made for two people," you explained "Especially not 6'2 men."

He grinned a bit. "Do you like my height?" He asked, enjoying the proximity a bit more than he would admit.

Yes. Obviously. Who wouldn't? He towered over you. His arms could wrap around your entire body without even straining to cover more skin. Plus, he could reach the top shelf so you didn't have to climb on a chair.

But it was still too early in the relationship to tell him that.

"That's besides the point," you muttered. " Why are we in the dressing room?" You repeated.

"I just...always wanted to see a woman's dressing room," he told you, frowning at his own lie.

"Seriously?" You questioned. "You could have at least picked the big one at the end. And you didn't even let me pick anything to try on."

"Right, well..I figured we could try a different store," Jason explained, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "Nothing here would do you justice."

You huffed, finding it slightly amusing how foolish he was acting. But frankly, it wasn't terribly bad to be stuck in a tight space with him. So, you waited a moment longer before unlocking the stall.

You still had to find a dress.

Things were peaceful for a bit, you and Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more serious. Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more intense.

He knew that eventually he'd have to tell his family about you, but the next time he saw one of his brothers in public, he couldn't help but shy away from the task of introducing you.

In his defense, Damian really wasn't the first sibling you would want to meet.

He'd taken you to a nature preserve, because you said you used to go all the time as a kid but stopped after getting older.

You were practically giddy, feeding the animals from your palm, scrunching your nose when their whiskers ticked you. Jason was enjoying it too, more so because of you than the animals.

But while he was mocking you for your squeals, he heard a familiar voice having a one sided conversation with a lemur.

He turned and there was Damian, having his biweekly visit to see the animals that Father wouldn't let him bring home.

Jason cursed internally, pulling you away from the animals, accidentally spilling the feed from your hand.

"Hey, I stillwanted to see the—"

"I'll bring you back, I promise," he said, cutting you off as he dragged you behind a tree.

You wiped off your hand on your jeans and tilted your head. "What is it?"

"I just think you've been giving the animals too much attention," Jason noted. "I feel left out."

"Oh, c'mon," you rolled your eyes.

"Really," he insisted. "You kissed a sloth and a goat but not me."

He pouted a bit and leaned back against the tree, still holding you arm, though loosening his grip before running his hand up and down your arm apologetically.

You sighed, glancing around briefly, not really taking notice of the small, angry child, yelling at some poor worker, before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his lips very quickly. "Satisfied?"

He smiled softly. "No." He shook his head, pointing to the exit. "Can we leave?" He asked gently.

"Will you bring me back?"

Jason nodded immediately. "Whenever you want," he said.

You gave up and left with him.

Now, if you really thought about it, you could easily put two and two together, but really, the instances were so far apart that you didn't really question the strange behavior.

He had managed to be, for the most part, pretty subtle about pulling you away from his family whenever he encountered them, as few and far between as those moments were.

Like the time you were walking down the street while it was raining and he spotted Duke crossing the street towards your direction. Even though he knew you loved the rain and hated umbrellas, he still pulled his jacket off, covering your head.

"Jay, I told you, I'm fine," you assured him, trying to move it off of you.

"Yeah, but you'll catch a cold," he insisted, pulling even further over your head while blatantly stealing an umbrella from a small stand that was selling them.

He popped it open, covering his own face as you walked past Duke.

"I will not," you told him, finally tugging it off. You frowned, not feeling any rain on your skin. "Where the hell did the umbrella come from?"

"Uh- someone handed it to me," Jason muttered. "Nice man."

And even though he despised running into people he knew because it always put him on high alert, trying to figure out what to do or where to go to keep whoever they ran into from spotting them, sometimes, he actually rather enjoyed the chance to pull you away from the rest of the world.

For instance, when you insisted on going to a carnival, which he wasn't a big fan of at first, until you guys got there and he saw your eyes twinkling at all the lights.

Any thoughts of boredom were quickly drowned out by the sound of your screams on the scarier rides, when you'd reach for his hand. And he bought every single treat you so much as looked at— the funnel cakes, the fresh lemonade, the Carmel corn.

He was watching you pull fresh cotton candy from the stick it was spun around when out of the corner of his eye he caught his brother Dick, along with Wally walking across the fair grounds.

Jason was sure they wouldn't notice you with how far away they were, but he refused to take the chance. So, he interlocked your hands, tugging you into a nearby photo booth as you made a sound of confusion.

"Just thought we should grab a souvenir," he said, beating you to the punch before you could ask what he was doing.

"I'm still eating my cotton candy," You told him. "I should fix my hair too."

Jason got a devilish glint in his eye and ran his hand through your hair jostling it further as you screeched in disbelief. "I think it looks good like that," he admitted, staring at you now that it had a bit more volume.

You blew a loose strand from your face. "I can't believe you did that," you stated. "It's all disheveled."

He nodded, still thinking it looked beautiful. Sort of like how it was when you woke up next to him.

"C'mon," he urged, pulling you into his lap. "I like you this way." He threw a few quarters in the slot and before you knew it you had a strip of three pictures, none of which were appropriate to show to anyone.

A picture of him stealing your cotton candy, a picture of him nuzzling your neck while you scrunched your nose in the way that made his heart clench, and a picture of him tasting said cotton candy on your tongue.

So, maybe it was an over reaction to pull you away from the rest of his carnival when it was huge and chances were Dick never would have even seen you. But God, did he enjoy it.

Then, there were, of course, the far less subtle times which didn't end quite as well.

Like when you just so happened to be walking out of a movie at the same time Cassandra and Barbara were heading into one.

"I think the sequel might actually be better than the original," you told him, arms interlinked as you walked.

"Uh huh," he wasn't paying attention anymore after seeing his sister and Babs at the soda machine, filling up their drinks.

He couldn't exactly pull you into a different theater, especially since he didn't know which one they would be going into.

The next best option? Throwing the empty popcorn bucket over your head.

"Jay?!" You exclaimed.

"It's a discount thing," he muttered vaguely, grimacing at his own excuse. "Wear the bucket out and you get a free movie."

Okay, not the next best, probably. Maybe like...sixth best? Seventh at most.

He pulled you past them, keeping his hand on the top of the bucket to keep it in place while raising his hoodie and keeping on the 3D glasses from the movie until you were past them both.

Once you were, he pulled it off and you were...well, fuming. Rightfully so.

"What the hell was that?" You asked, a bit bitterly, not buying his excuse for a second. "I'm covered in popcorn butter.

He cleared his throat, kissing your greasy cheek and licking his lips tasting a salty popcorn and butter on your skin. "Tastes good, though," he mumbled.

You stormed out on him.

And then, when you chose to walk all the way back to your apartment in frustration, both with his actions and lies, he finally came clean.

"I just... don't want my family to mess anything up between us," he confessed, barely even looking at you.

Vulnerability wasn't his strongest asset, but he was trying. For you.

You washed your face off in the sink for the third time and still felt greasy. Even if you got it all off your face, you'd need a shower to get it out of your hair.

"Why couldn't you just tell me that?" You asked, still confused. It wasn't like you didn't already know who his family was.

"I just- I didn't want you to think I was hiding you," he muttered.

"Jason, you put a bowl of popcorn over my head so your sister wouldn't see me. That's hiding," you stated firmly.

"Yes but it's not hiding out of embarrassment!" He clarified. "My family can be a lot to handle and they might scare you off and they'd definitely mock me endlessly for being in love with you."

His eyes went wide. That...was an accident. He didn't mean to confess that.

You stared at him for a moment, blinking. "Did you just say what I think you did?"

"I uh- well that wasn't..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he finally agreed with a slight nod. "But you don't have to say it back or anything, I know I'm not the easiest person to love and it—"

You were already kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He was caught off guard, but it didn't take him long before he kissed you back, his hands finding your waist and steadying you both.

"You're stupidly easy to love," you told him, resting your forehead on his.

(+Bonus)

It was a quiet Friday night when the two of you were at a nice restaurant, celebrating a year of being together. The food was good, the music was soft and nice, and Jason was practically a drooling mess over you, like usual.

So much so, he didn't even notice when his father walked into the restaurant with a date of his own.

You did, though. And in keeping with the spirit of what had apparently been a pretty large part of your relationship, even without you knowing it, you slid out of the booth quickly grabbing his hand and pulling him from his chair.

"Hey, wait a second!" He exclaimed as you rushed him out of the restaurant before he got to finish his dessert. "We still have to pay."

"We'll come back tomorrow and pay," you assured him, pushing open the door, into the cold evening.

"What the hell was that about?" Jason asked once you were outside and seemingly slowed down.

You pointed towards the window. "Your dad," you muttered.

He could see Bruce sitting at a table across from Selina, his eyes scanning a menu while occasionally looking up, probably to compliment her or something.

He huffed. "Add that restaurant to the list of places we can't go," he mumbled, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. "It got cold outside," he simply said when you frowned in confusion.

You pulled on the nice jacket that matched his suit. "Thanks," you said, wrapping your arm around his, tugging him away from the restaurant. "C'mon, I'll buy some more dessert."

He hummed, and pressed a kiss against your head. "Alright," he agreed, letting you lead him away from the restaurant and down the street.

[heyysteven]

I love, I love, I love

Summary: Some Husband!salesman headcannons

Warnings: Brief mentions of death and Fluff :))

Husband!salesman who just loves to be the little spoon, he absolutely loves the feeling of resting his head on your chest as you caress his hair talking about the details of your day. He didn't mind being the big spoon either. He just loves any reason to be wrapped around you really.

Husband!salesman who could hear you talk for the rest of his hours. Tell him about the book you just finished reading, tell him about the new recipe you wanted to try, tell him about new gossip at work. He would listen patiently and ask questions wherever he got confused.

Husband!salesman who texted you every two hours. Did you reach your office safely? I’m eating the sandwich you packed! Did you have your lunch? Any updates on the new gossip? Will reach home in twenty minutes;)) Do you want anything from the grocery store? Got you donuts just in case.

Husband!salesman who would take pictures of every sunset, every animal, every flower and send them to you because they reminded him of you and how you would have taken pictures if you were with him.

Husband!salesman who would buy you a huge bouquet of flowers before every date night, conveying different messages using the language of flowers. Last time he got home one full of red tulips and sunflowers (because his passion for you ran murderously deep silly!).

Husband!salesman who planned every date night down to the minute. He would book the reservations for that cuisine you once mentioned you wanted to try. He would whistle as soon as you step out the room in your evening dress, twirl you by your hand and ask for the n’th time how he got so lucky (would definitely be disappointed if you wore something without back zips). He would always be the perfect gentleman for you; right from driving you, opening the doors, pulling your chairs, all you had to do was shut your brain and enjoy the evening.

Husband!salesman who always tried matching his tie to the color of your dress.

Husband!salesman who loved holding hands more than life itself. He would love feeling the cold metal of your wedding ring every time you locked your fingers. He would walk around with the most proud smile ever on his face, softly swinging your intertwined fingers with each step.

Husband!salesman who could never say no to you. He was born with a lot of impressive abilities and strategic skills. Murdering someone with a fork? Easy! Selling people the idea of getting rich by playing a bunch of game? A piece of cake! Saying no to his wife? What is that? Shouldn’t it be punishable by law?

Husband!salesman who couldn’t cook to save his life. He somehow ended up burning everything he put on stove, so he just stuck to cleaning instead. It was a silent agreement, you would make the breakfast and dinners and he would wash and dust while you cooked. On days he ran late, he loved being welcomed by the aroma of the dish you were making. It made him feel like that this was the reason he was alive.

Husband!salesman who still got flustered when you kiss his cheek. It had quickly become your power move. On the rare occasion where you disagreed upon something, you would simply kiss his cheek and watch him fumble with his words. It was the most adorable thing ever.

Husband!salesman who would kiss and bite your neck every chance he got. He loved the fact that he could attack your neck any time he wanted.

Husband!salesman who loved when you asked him to pick you up after work. He waited for the moment you would come running and jump to hug him tight.

Husband!salesman who always noticed every single detail. Like the time he caught a man making you uncomfortable while walking. He did exactly what the man deserved; beat him till his teeth were bloody and carved his fingers out from their socket,  for ever daring to make his wife feel unsafe.

Husband!salesman who got jealous easily. He didn’t ask for much, he just wanted every single person with conspicuous intentions towards you to just get hit by a truck on the highway (with him driving the truck preferably).

Husband!salesman who always made sure to support your hobbies! Even if you abandon them after two weeks, he’s proud of you for trying.

Husband!salesman who hated your plushies and teddy bears. He hated how much distance they created between you while sleeping. He would just throw them to the floor when you weren’t looking.

Husband!salesman who doesn’t like getting his shirt bloody because “My wife chose that for me, its rude of you to bleed on my clothes.”

Husband!salesman who says I love you like it’s the air he needs for breathing. He would find every reason to squeeze your hands thrice.

[floralscented]

dean winchester x angel!reader — kissing lessons.

or, the defenses are down, the blockades shattered, and you dont know how to kiss. or, let dean help you.

cw, 18+, MDNI! dean talks you through it for real this time. backseat sex LOL. fluffy smut? lowkey subby dean hehehe. no protection yell @ them not me.

word count: 5.6k

notes, dean gets to be his full freak self here hehehe. everyone say ur welcome since i've been being HOUNDED SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIMEMEEEEMEEEE TO POST THIS. unfortunately for all of u this is the planned conclusion to their tale </3 don't crucify me. u legally can't since i'm giving u this.

★ ˚⋆

things were... a little awkward, after you saved dean's life with a kiss. like passion drove you over the edge, a desperate need to save him and to do it any way possible, that was the only time that you managed to kiss him right.

and he didn't — well, he kind of judged you for it. just little laughs, when you'd lean in to try and kiss him and end up flushing and sinking backwards. it was cute. sure, it did mean he wasn't getting any action anytime soon, and every bedtime kiss you promised him ended up becoming a bedtime smack for him laughing at your struggle, but hey, you guys just had a different dynamic.

he still thought you were the prettiest thing to ever grace earth. just because you didn't know how to kiss properly didn't mean he was going to suddenly stop being interested. it just opened doors to getting to teach you.

sam stayed back at the motel while dean volunteered to go on a drink run. it was one of those nights; a roundabout case that the both of them knew was going to keep them up looking for the slightest detail in the research that could alter their investigation for the better. sam needed a beer, dean wanted a beer, and you wanted whiskey.

literally. girl of his dreams, he'd thought. still thinks.

plus, you love car rides. dean had not let you back behind the wheel since the last time, and you didn't seem to want to try again either, more than content to sit and look pretty in the seat next to him.

the nearest liquor tour in whatever small town you guys were camping out in for the night was a good few miles away, and so he got to play all of his cards in one fell swoop. hand on your thigh, fingers trailing up the seams of your jeans, tracing with his nail on the inside of your palm.

you were squirming. he loved when you squirmed.

his fingers are just at the inside of your thigh, long enough to have gently walked their way over like they owned the place ( he did, you didn't know it yet ) and rest easily. that is the moment you speak up, those narrowed eyes locked on his in a glare.

"stop that."

dean's eyebrows flick up. he spares a single glance toward you, the picture of innocence written into the marrow of his sinful bones. "stop what?"

"you're touching me."

he hums to himself for a moment, eyes turned toward the stoplight he'd rolled up to. "could be touching you more."

"no."

dean huffs out a laugh. "are you scared of my hands, dove?" even as he says it, his hand moves again, to the safety of your thigh. "you know they'd never hurt you."

your eyes roll furiously. you grab his wrist and practically throw his hand onto the gearstick. "your hands are not sentient beings and cannot make that choice for you."

dean's gotten really receptive to you, over these past few weeks. what your expressions meant in the rare times that you didn't voice your confusion, what your body language said, and so now he's confident that he knows what you're feeling right now. your hands are clenched tightly in your lap, purposely not touching him, fisted so tightly that they shake a little. your eyes are facing forward without budging, even though he knows that his gaze is burning into the side of your face.

the stoplight illuminates your face in a green glow. "it's a green light," you say without turning to look at him, and that pretty much confirms it for dean. you're afraid. afraid, embarrassed, and not wanting to tell him any of it. "so go."

dean's jaw clenches as he restrains a frown behind the cage of his teeth. the absolute last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you had to hide away from him, keeping every one of those thoughts locked away in your inexperienced, curious head.

the car rolls into drive again, passing the parking lot for the liquor store. he sees it out of the corner of his eye; the way your head cocks to the side, your lip between your teeth while you try to figure out what he was doing. you could ask. he wanted you to ask. whatever was eating at you was keeping all of his pretty girl's first thoughts from him.

he pulls off on the side of the road and cuts the engine, leaving the both of you in darkness except for the moonlight pouring in through the windshield.

dean nods toward the backseat. "hop on back there, sweet girl," he says with a sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of the driver's seat. you don't move. he props himself in the doorway with an unmoved expression. "c'mon. it's late. don't wanna have to tell you twice."

the way your face twists up in annoyance is exactly what he wanted to see. good. anything but that weariness that had marred your features. he slips into the backseat, shuts the door behind him, before your door opens.

seconds later, you're dropping into the seat next to dean. he turns on the leather to face you better, his hand coming up to brush the hair out of your face. "you know you can talk to me, right? i act like an ass all the time, i know, but you don't have to lock yourself away."

your face goes pink at his words. that angry twitch of your nose makes an appearance, and it's all dean can do not to break into a wider grin. knowing that something so delicate could also be so wicked was an enticing thought all in itself.

"it's embarrassing."

"so what?" his lips twist as his shoulders raise in a shrug. "who's gonna judge you? me? be serious, dove."

your nose twitches again, mouth in a tight scowl. "you would definitely judge me."

"that's how i know you're feelin' all insecure up there," dean says, tapping your temple with his finger, "because you know that's not true. i know that's not true."

you growl, actually growl, and dean wants nothing more than to grab you by the hand and tug your mouth onto his. even if you don't kiss him back, he wants to kiss you. your furious frustration was a common occurrence around him, but that didn't mean it got any less attractive.

"when you touch me," you grit out through your clenched teeth, your hands fisted in your lap like you might hit him. hell, he'd have taken the punch right then, if it kept you talking. "i feel things."

dean blinks twice in quick succession. "and?" you do hit him square in the shoulder. your hands carry much more of a punch than he could have predicted. he lets out a little oof, his lips pursing with his lack of amusement. "it's a serious question!"

"i can't say." you look adamant, your frustration so pretty on your features, and dean's a bit dazed. "it's embarrassing," you repeat, and dean gets it. or, he thinks he does.

one corner of his mouth quirks again, his cheek dimpling. the hand on your face falls to your thighs again, fingers lightly dancing on the inner seam of your jeans. "here?"

your hand raises to punch him again, and he knows he's right; catches it just in time before you can bruise that spot on his shoulder. "well, i can't leave you feelin' all hot and bothered, can i?"

"i am not hot," you scoff out almost in disgust at the suggestion, and dean does laugh, then. you were so hot it was ridiculous, but alright. "but i am very bothered."

"lucky for you," dean murmurs, his hand releasing your wrist and moving to your jaw, turning your head to look at him again, "i am very good at handlin' bothered girls." he leans in, brushes his lips against yours. "angels, i should say."

dean can feel you retreating already at the slight touch of his lips, but now he knows that it's not because you don't want to kiss him, or don't want what he's offering. you're afraid of it like the feelings will bite you, nervous to feel the full extent of it. his fingers hold your jaw more firmly.

"now, i'm not gonna ask," he says, driven further by the soft sound of your breath catching, "since you're feeling a little trigger happy right now... but i think it's time my little dove has herself some kissing lessons."

to his surprise, you don't hit him again. you just stare into his eyes with such earnest honesty that it's his turn to lose his breath. you trusted him so much. he wanted to show you just how much it meant to him; let you watch as he cradled your heart in his hands.

the distance closes in a second between your mouths, the brush of his slow and languid against yours, judging your reactions. your kiss is hesitant, and then suddenly you're pressing further into him, the force of it almost bruising when you don't move your lips. he pulls back enough to look into your eyes.

dean's finger comes up to pinch your lips closed, smiling softly as he does. "don't have to try n' bite my face off, honey, i promise," he chides without any malice in his words, taking advantage of the gentle grasp he had on your lips to lean in again. he kisses you slowly again, deliberate in the way his mouth moves, so you could figure it out.

your fingers uncurl in your lap and move to his shirt, twisting the soft cotton lightly. that's when he releases your lips, his hand shifting to cup your cheek in his palm. dean's thumb traces reassuringly on your cheekbone.

when your mouth opens this time, it's less like you're trying to sink your teeth into him and more like an invitation. dean knew you were a quick learner; had from the moment he'd let you behind baby's wheel. seeing it action like this, with your hands in his shirt and your tongue swiping across his, was on another level.

his free hand reaches for your hands one at a time, his touch on your wrist light as he lifts your fingers to his hair. he has to force his mouth away from yours, has to pull away from the taste of your tongue. "i know how much you wanna yank my hair out," dean teases, letting go of your hand to let you take over, "so go ahead n' pull, baby."

you look between his eyes again with that same open look, and he's sure he's melting right there into the leather backseat. "really?"

dean laughs. "yeah, really." he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. "matter of fact, touch anywhere you want, baby. this is all for you. so y'can get outta that head of yours."

something flashes in your eyes at that. he doesn't know what it was - the offer or the idea - that caught your attention, but he's intrigued, too. one of your hand drops from his hair to his shirt again, this time at the waist of it.

he's a little dazed, admittedly, as you untuck it from being bunched up in the waist of his jeans. it's intense to have your eyes on him while you pull his shirt up until it catches on his extended arms.

"took the first chance y'could to get me naked, huh?" dean asks, even as his voice comes out more strained than it'd been before, his jeans suddenly feeling just as tight.

you use your elbow to nudge his arms up, and he raises his hands in defense at your sudden act of authority before he lifts them. then, you've got his shirt off, tossing it behind your back. "shut up."

"there's my girl," he murmurs, hooking his finger in your belt loop and tugging you closer. maybe he was moving too fast. maybe he knew you'd adapt quickly.

and you do. he never doubted you for a second. your hand rests on his cheek, guiding him back into a kiss, more confidently than any of your kisses had been so far. your fingers tangle in his hair, and dean has to physically bite back on the groan in his throat.

he takes advantage of his hold on your jeans to start unfastening them. you're so good for him, a perfect match, because you don't even know what you're doing but your hips are lifting so he can start pulling them down.

dean breaks the kiss with a pop of your mouths, and the growl you let out goes straight to the hardening cock trapped in his jeans. he doesn't want to move so fast, but you've always been a little cruel like this, tempting him in ways that he should have been stronger to resist. there was no resistance now.

he hooks his arm under your legs to turn you in the seat, draping them across his lap. he unties your boots for you, pulling them off and setting them on the floor of the backseat. then, he's grabbing the bunched denim on your thighs and tugging until they're off. dean has more care with your clothes than you did with his. he'd always treat everything about you as gently as glass, setting them on the middle console between the front seats.

you look at him for a second, like you're trying to gauge the situation you've both found yourselves in. pulled over on the side of the road like teenagers that couldn't wait, stripping each other naked in the backseat. it'd be laughable if you didn't look so vulnerable. for the second time that night, dean realized how big the trust you had in him was, and he didn't want to do a thing to mess it up.

"lemme get this off of you, yeah?" he asks, his hands moving to the bottom of your shirt. he meets your gaze for confirmation; gets a single nod. "it means a lot, y'know," he continues on, trying to keep you out of the black hole that was your worries, as he pulls your shirt up and over your head, "that you're trusting me with this. all of it."

"don't start," you whine, your hands moving to your eyes, covering your face. dean grabs your wrists and pulls them apart, moving your arms out of the way so he could properly see you. "hey!"

dean's lips pull into a small smile. "hi."

"this is a lot," you say, and his smile softens considerably, "i don't know what to do now."

dean lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "whatever you wanna do. this is all you, baby, i'm just here to provide." he rests his large palm on your kneecap, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothingly against your skin. "we can stop. you can kiss me again, or punch me again, if that's what you want. we can get dressed again, get what we actually came for..."

"no." you blink a few times before you shake your head. "i don't want to stop, i..."

dean's not a patient man. he's used to time limits and counting his days. but in this backseat with you, he's certain time has stopped just for the both of you. he feels the world at his disposal, like every bit of time existed like pieces of sand in his palms.

when you realize he is, for once, not going to interrupt you, and not try and put thoughts in place of your feelings, you huff. "i do not know what to do from here."

dean grabs for one of your discarded hands, holding your fingers in his lap. "do you want us to be on equal ground?" he asks, nodding down at himself. you were in nothing but undergarments; he still had his jeans on. "and then we can figure it out from there?"

your smile is beautiful in its hesitance. "okay."

"okay like you want my pants off, or okay like you'd just feel better if we were both freezin' our asses off back here?" dean teases, even as he shifts a little in the cramped space to start taking off his jeans.

your huff is practically a wordless grumble in itself. "why do you want me to spell things out?"

"i want you comfortable, dove," he says, the waistband of his jeans paused at his thighs, "there's no pressure here at all. if there's pressure, then it's not fun anymore."

you think on it for a second. dean watches your expression shift with your feelings and acceptance. "you may continue."

"oh, mama's bossy now, is she?"

you grab a handful of the leg of his jeans and yank. "shut up."

"yes, ma'am."

you wad up his discarded jeans and toss them at him in a ball of denim. "shut up."

"you're so pretty when you're mad, honey," dean mumbles, using his grip on your hand to tug you forward. you stumble a little in the small space, falling into his lap. "come n' make me shut up."

your eyes are narrowed on him as you shift to make yourself comfortable. your leg tosses over his thighs, settling into his lap. his breath hitches in his throat at the feel of your heat through both of the thin undergarments on you, and from the look in your eyes, the evidence of his own arousal has made itself prominent against you, too.

you look like you might say something. you don't. your hands grab him by his face and drag him in for another kiss. he actually chokes on a noise in his throat at the suddenness, and he thinks he might love you. knows he does, but has never felt the intensity of it quite like this before.

dean's mouth opens to let you in, craving the taste of you again. your tongue meets his instantly, lapping against each other's in a languid slow dance. he's content like this. he could stop here, and go back to the motel with or without the alcohol and use this memory here of your tongue in his mouth while you sat all pretty in his lap to get himself off, and be perfectly fine.

but if there was one thing that you were full of, it was surprises. his little whiskey drinking, praise adoring, bossy angel. your fingers fall between the both of your bodies and rest on his hard on through his boxers, and dean looses a shuddering breath.

you pull away from his mouth with his saliva on your lips. dean's head falls back onto the headrest of the backseat with a groan. "you told me i could touch," you say, your innocent voice so out of place with your devilish hands.

"i did," dean says, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone. "didn't expect you to go for the gold immediately, though."

your answering smile is the prettiest thing he's ever seen. the moon sits high in the sky outside of the window, glowing and whitecast down onto you.

a halo of your own making.

dean thinks he's going to die.

you raise your hips off of him for the time being, your light touch teasing and electric at once. dean grasps that hand and lifts it to his mouth, kissing each of your fingertips. "here," he says quietly, his other hand going to your waist. he traces over your ribcage lightly before he closes his fingers over your side.

he pulls you closer, lets you grind against the swell in his boxers. he groans, your breath hitches with a little whine, and he's sure, then, that he'll die like this.

"you like that?" dean asks you, dipping his head to get a better look at your eyes. you look dazed, a little drunk, and dean wants to see those pretty eyes glimmer and glisten.

he lifts you up again by your thigh, just enough to slide his boxers off of him as gently as he can. the space is cramped, and it's finally starting to feel like it.

dean's done this plenty of times, but there's something about your gaze that makes him feel more vulnerable than he ever has before. he's naked underneath you; you, who has never done anything like this before, and he feels more exposed than you seem to.

it's like a game, now. when he does something, you do it, like you don't want to fall behind in this back and forth. your hips stay up, and it's more awkward for you to tug your panties off, but you manage it with a few lifts of your legs, and a kick that sends them, somehow, into the driver's seat.

you laugh. it's breathtaking.

dean helps you settle back on his thighs, and it's all he can do to not fall apart there. you're warm, you're wet enough that he feels it on his legs, and all he wants to do is make you feel even better than you do now.

"green light?" dean asks, lifting his eyes to look at you again, and not at all of the skin bared to him. he doesn't want to overwhelm you with how intense he must be staring at you, but you're mesmerizing. perfection in the form of a wingless angel sat on his lap.

you blink a couple of times before the realization settles in. "go?"

"i'm askin' you, dove," he says in answer, hand going to the back of your neck to pull you closer, to press a kiss to your forehead. "red light or green light?"

your face is so close to his, but dean can see the melted expression in your eyes. instead of answering, you press a kiss to his mouth again. he's glad you like it, now that you know how to do it. he could handle kissing you over and over, but your lips kissing him back is something he was already getting addicted to.

on his mouth, you whisper, "green light."

dean blinks, now. his teeth drag your bottom lip back lightly until it pops back into place. "yeah?"

at your nod, he sits up a little better, his arms snaking around your waist. once he's got a good grip on you, he moves the both of you so that he's sprawled beneath you in the backseat, fully extended. he doesn't fit, his legs bent a little as his back presses into the door, but it's fine. everything is fine when he has you. plus, his bent knees only draws you closer to him.

"i promise this is the last time i'm gonna do this to you," he says with a teasing lilt to his voice, lifting you off of his thighs again. "just say red light if it's too much, okay?"

"okay."

it's more gentle than he's ever been, the way he spreads your legs open a little more, the way he lines the aching length of his cock up with your waiting entrance. just the brush of the tip against the wetness of your folds could make him crumble.

dean pushes up enough to just barely rest inside of you, giving you the moment to adjust. your gasp is small, breathless. he stops instantly, his hand on your thigh loosening its grip. your face twists into a frown. "i didn't say red light," you grumble through the pout, and he's always been a sucker for that little pout, as much as he is for when you sink your teeth into the puffy lip.

his laugh is warm, free hand raising in surrender again. "sorry, baby, jus' lookin' out for you."

you start to sink down further on him yourself with nothing but his hand in guidance. your eyes are wide, your lips parted in a soundless 'o', but you don't tell him to stop, and he trusts you enough to know that you would, if you needed it. he couldn't helicopter monitor you just because he was afraid of breaking the pretty thing he'd grown so attached to.

it's a tight fit, being inside of you. he can feel every bit of your walls expanding to fit him, and he tries not to groan, tries to not get too ahead of himself, but goddamn. months of fantasizing about this, of denying himself those same fantasies out of fear of ruining the trust you were building between each other, comes nowhere near the reality of how it feels to have you in his arms.

your head drops to press against his, and dean's unable to resist the way he leans up to peck a kiss to your mouth. a quick one, light and easy, that you take as a sign to deepen. your teeth scrape his lip, your tongue explores the expanse of his mouth, and dean takes this distraction from the discomfort he knew you were feeling to push the rest of the way inside of you.

you whine on his lips, and he kisses away the little noises. "i know," dean mumbles on your mouth, "it's okay."

the red light is unspoken, but he's not about to push you, or overstep anyways. you trace shapes with your fingertips on his bare chest, worrying at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"green light," you say after a few moments, and a few more soft kisses from him in the crook of your shoulder.

dean nods, leaving a last lingering kiss on your collarbone before he shifts enough to properly start to move inside of you. the thrusts are shallow and gentle, letting you get a feel for it, letting you adjust to his size.

your forehead drops to rest on his shoulder, each little whimper twisting at his heart, even if the sounds of them were beginning to get louder and less strained.

"feelin' better?" he asks, all of the strain from your voice stolen and bottled up in his. the way that you squeeze around him has all of his rational thought fogging, and it takes a conscious effort to be gentle with you. this wasn't about dean; it was about you.

you nod once, your hair tickling at his chest. he's about to keep up the slow pace, to keep going as gently as possible, until you sit up a little straighter and start to meet each of his thrusts with a grind of your hips. dean's head knocks against the passenger window, his breath leaving his mouth in a shudder.

you must like it, too, because you let out a breathless laugh. you grab his hands and hold his fingers between yours, letting them fall to rest on his stomach. it's that game again; you doing something to keep up with what he's doing.

dean grins as he watches you, the tight expression on your face melding into something a little more wild and free. he's never seen you like this. he'd take a picture if he wasn't absolutely certain that you and him were gonna do this again.

again, he moves your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles this time, his groan reverberating through your fingers. you match him so easily, like you were made for whatever he gave to you. your increasing confidence makes him feel comfortable enough to speed up, his other arm braced on the back of the seats for stability as he rolls his hips deeper into you.

your head tips backwards with the first real moan he's ever heard out of you. your reckless abandon is utterly disarming. he sits up straighter, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist, holding you pressed against him as he buries himself inside of you.

your hands tremble as they lock onto his face, holding it to be nose to nose with him. you're panting on his mouth, and he can't stop staring at your lips, and he's so deep inside of you that he can feel the tip against your cervix, deep enough to make a rough groan slip out of his throat.

there was no need for kissing lessons. you would have figured it out on your own, dean's sure of it, with how you tilt his head back to suck his top lip between yours, tongue languid against his.

it's embarrassing how close he is to coming already. how couldn't he? he was enamored, transfixed, and getting this little taste of you was intoxicating. your fingers move from his cheeks to his jaw, clawing at his lip, tugging the bottom one down as you ride him.

he lets you. he'd let you do anything.

dean's thumb finds it's way between your legs, slipping between your slick folds to rub gentle circles into your clit. your thighs clench around his, grinding your hips down further onto his, against his hand.

his head tilts up to capture your mouth again, wanting to taste each moan that you let out, to swallow your pleasure and keep it to himself, where no one else can ever see it. each of those shuddering moans gets louder, more frantic, and he knows you're close.

"dean," you whisper into his mouth, and dean wants to hear his name said like this every time from you, now. breathless, desperate, and as needy as he felt.

he thumbs more deliberately at the swollen nub, pressing a final kiss to your mouth before he works little hot kisses down your jaw, your neck. "dean, i--"

"it's okay," his voice is as rough as gravel. "that's how it's supposed to feel." he knows your head like his own, knows from the frenzied breath into his shoulder that you're going to come, and that it must be a little much, trying to live through those feelings and try to figure them out. "it's supposed to, okay? jus' let go, i've got you."

dean would always have you. he loved you too much to let go.

that thought is what breaks his resolve. his thrusts become more sloppy, harder than he should probably be with you, but he loves you, and it's ruining him to not show it, or tell you. the car is thick with hot air, the windows are foggy, his skin is sticking to the leather seats, but he loves you.

you come apart on top of him with the moonlight still bathing you in a halo's glow. your hips still, your fingers claw at his face, scratching red marks into his stubble, and you cry out a moan against his lips.

he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. his hips stutter to a stop inside of you, a gasping groan punctuating his pants into the column of your throat, his cock twitching inside of you as his cum fills you. he'd worry about that later. or maybe he wouldn't. he didn't care about anything in the world besides how much he loves you.

dean doesn't realize he's whispering it out loud until he registers that pretty laugh of yours.

your hair is stuck to your forehead, your skin glassy with sweat in the pale moonlight, and the halo of the moon still hangs above your head. you're the most divine thing he's ever seen, the closest to divinity he's ever let himself be.

"you love me?" you ask, your eyes so sweet and so warm as they watch him.

dean leans up to kiss each corner of your mouth. "where'd you get that impression?"

he can never tell when you'll be matter-of-fact or when you'll play around. he forgets sometimes all of the things he's taught you, every bad idea you've got wedged in your mind because of his influence. dean winchester never wanted to corrupt you or your innocence, but he knew he'd always end up pulling you into the dark with him. you were stuck together, after all, now that he'd embedded himself to you for saving his life.

"i had a hunch." your head tilts up pridefully, chin jutted out. the act is cute while it lasts but falls apart instantly when you start to laugh again. dean's never heard you laugh so much since you'd met. how'd he get so lucky?

the car ride back to the motel is peaceful, the frigid air conditioning blasting to try and clear the fog from the windows and cool the sweat on your skin. the entire time, dean's hand is on your thigh, and the entire time, you don't move it. the moon follows his angel out the window the entire drive, like it knows, too, that you were as divine as beings could be.

sam calls two miles from the motel. "everything okay?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice. "it's been at least an hour. i didn't think you could get lost on a beer trip in this town."

beer. liquor store. alcohol run. it all comes back to dean now that his head is a little more clear.

"oh," is all dean can say for a few seconds, gaze flickering over to you in the passenger seat. you pick at the threads on his jacket he'd given to you, head downturned to unsuccessfully hide your laugh, "got sidetracked. we'll be back in twenty or so."

it was sam's turn to be silent. his following laugh is more like a scoff than anything else. "jesus christ, dean."

"blame dove," dean cackles into the speaker, eyes fond as he glances over at you again. he makes a (definitely illegal) u-turn at the same stoplight that acted as the tipping point for the night's event back in the direction of the liquor store. "she's the one who needed taught how to kiss."

tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4jackles @deanswidow @deansbite @whisperingwillowxox @bombarda-babe @whyyouegg @loverslantern @bitchykittenconnoisseur @jensenacklesantidote @keira-kaz2y5 @sthefferrete @depressionbarbie2023 @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @bleuatlas @minettacreekk @moonstruksandco @moodyquesadilla @severe-mental-illness @cevansbaby-dove @deansbeer @bluestrd @mccartneyqp @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @momoewn @globetrotter28 @starzify @jackleslvr @ryngzmn @aileenunfiltered @beausling @frosttbitessam @amberlthomas

[reidrum]

glory of the snow

note: the return of insecure!reader my beloved <3 i had a bunch of requests to bring her back so i hope we like it! this is really just a gentle reminder from spencer that we should be kinder to ourselves. also i wanted to have them actually fuck but it didn't seem right to fit that in here so ,,, part 2 question mark who is to say. anyways my inbox is always open for any thoughts, comments, questions, musings all of it! love y'all mwah

summary: you freak out when spencer walks in on you accidentally, and he just loves you too much to let it go

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fingering, masturbation (r, just mentions), heavy petting/kissing, comfort, talks of intimacy issues, self-deprecating reader

wc: 3k

“Oh, sweet girl.”

Three words, maybe two and one syllable, that in any other instance would have had you melting into a puddle at the softness it reared. Words that have so easily turned you into a preening cat but are now aimed at you, albeit no judgement from his end, with no room for escape.

Spencer had come home after a long day of paperwork when he first heard it. He would have brushed it off if it didn’t happen again moments later, and louder. Concerned, he walks toward the bedroom, a flush rushing to his face as he comes to recognize what it is. A small crack of the door allowed him the glorious sight of you in the center of the bed, hand between your legs, eyes shut in ecstasy. You’re mesmerizing to him and he really can’t bring himself to look away, and he doesn’t notice himself subconsciously leaning on the door causing a faint creak that alarmed you to his presence. In that moment, however, he’s less worried about scaring you, and more about the overwashing look of shame on your face.

The soft creak of the door pulled you out of your daze, screaming when you saw the figure behind the door. Your eyes are bulging out of their sockets nearly, heartbeat still racing with adrenaline from when you haphazardly threw the blanket over yourself. You were conflicted, but getting caught doing something that is a common and completely normal instance in relationships really shouldn’t make you feel this guilty. Although you do know the guilt was created by a previous version of you where you had told Spencer that you wanted to take the pace of your relationship slowly, and had little to no desire to engage in such activities for the time being. Or so you said.

He cautiously steps closer, careful not to startle you further, “I’m not upset, or anything.”

You’re not upset either, you’re mortified. “I lied to you.”

“You did…but I don’t think you meant to, right?”

There had been a time where you were tangled all up in him, and poor Spencer, his hands were in the wrong place at the wrong time to no fault of his own and entirely yours, and your shutdown was unavoidable. The blood in your veins seized up like crystallizing water turning into ice, paralyzing both the physical and mental before you could realize.

Intimacy for you was a complicated concept. While it wasn’t novel or unwanted, physical intimacy was something you struggled to accept with open arms. Call it a consequence of your self perception, but it was hard to accept the soft touch of love when you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Spencer never minded, although his heart ached to make you see yourself the way he saw you, he was always more than willing to meet you where you were.

It almost pains you with how understanding Spencer was of the whole situation because you knew any other person would be deeply upset. Every other person was upset.

Spencer never was just any other person, you suppose.

“I don’t know how to explain this.” Another lie, you could easily explain the reason.

It’s not that you weren’t ready, it’s that you didn’t feel like you looked ready. The thought of subjecting Spencer to the one dark cornerstone of your being in the early days of being together seemed illogical and burdensome, and so it was more simple to play it off as wanting to take a slow pace.

But, as biology would see it you have needs and your boyfriend just happens to be so detrimentally attractive that the simplest act has been sending you into a hot fit as of late. The culprit this time was an innocent mirror picture of him at the store trying on new trousers. You had no chance.

You had found that your intimacy issues lie within extending it to others, and less with yourself. The solution of you finding release on your own quickly became a habit when you realized there was no fear on your own. There’s no one to let down if you’re alone.

Spencer perches at the foot of the bed, flat hand outstretched on the blanket towards you but keeping a comfortable distance, “You don’t have to explain anything, honey.”

“No I know, but—fuck—I should.” you bury your face, choosing to only speak to him from behind your hands for now, maybe forever.

He takes a moment to take inventory of your physical being—you don’t look in pain. Clearly you didn’t sound in pain. Your face is flushed, and though he’s sitting a little far from you, the heat radiating from your body hits him like a space heater.

“Sweetheart…I’m not upset.” he repeats, in hopes a reminder might provide reassurance.

It doesn’t. “You’re never upset at me, it’s concerning.” you mumble.

“You make it kind of hard to be upset at you, ever really.” Spencer braves and lays a hand on your leg.

You take a deep breath, the cold of his hand grounding you more and more. Spencer senses the calm it’s bringing you and rubs circles into your calf.

“Can you tell me what you’re feeling?” he asks gently.

What are you even feeling? You ponder for a moment—anxious, nervous, bad.

“Embarrassed.”

“Honey, there’s nothing embarrassing about masturbating. In fact, it’s more than healthy to do it to keep cortisol levels low,” he explains, “I just don’t know why you didn’t…want to tell me.”

The guilt swirls in your gut, hearing the twinge of hurt buried beneath the comfort he’s laid out for you. He just wants to help you, but you won’t let him in and that hurts him more.

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“How so?”

“It’s just…I…Look it’s…You’re just so hot—“ you slip out, clamping your hand over your mouth before leaking any more intrusive thoughts.

A faint smirk ghosts his face, “I’m…hot?”

“No—Well, yes. I just…ugh.”

“Okay, okay calm down,” he scoots closer and gently brings the hands covering your eyes to rest in your lap, “You don’t need to be all secretive, you know I’d never judge you.”

“I know,”

“I just thought you wanted to wait.”

“I do.”

“But, not with me? It’s okay if it's not with me.”

“Spence, I do. It’s not that.”

“Am I missing something?”

You gulp, “I just…it’s a personal problem. With me. Not you.”

His brows furrow, “Like what, baby? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“Yeah, if a doctor can fix my shoddy self esteem and make me like myself again.” you chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh. 

The pause he takes seems to be ages long before he speaks again, “Angel, how long have you been feeling like that?”

You’ve been caught red-handed, water filling up the tank faster than you can tread, “It’s nothing, I was just joking.”

“Hey,” he says with a rare firmness, “How. Long?”

You deflate under his hard gaze, “A…while…long enough… for it to feel like a…like a default setting, I guess.” you trail off.

Spencer couldn’t hide the hurt on his face if he tried. Not hurt from your lack of admission, hurt that you had felt like this for so long, dealt with this for so long on your own, and he didn’t even know.

All he ever hoped and wanted was for you to be happy, and if he could be the source of that he would ask for nothing more in life. So to hear about you struggling with this, that you felt like you had to keep it to yourself, was heartbreaking.

Spencer remains in his head a little too long as he’s broken out of it by your small voice, “Are you sure you’re not mad?”

He sighs and moves to sit next to you, making sure he stays above the blanket for your comfort. His back is against the headboard of the bed, and he raises his arm a little, gesturing for you to fill the you shaped crevice. You hesitantly move into the space, hating how you feel every move you’re making is calculated, but all of that goes away the second your head meets his chest and his hand comes up to comb through your hair, the other smoothing your arm down, and all you’re left with is him.

“I promise I’m not mad,” he whispers softly, “Just wish you told me. I would have helped you.” He’s intentional in his wording—would, and not could. Could implies he has a choice, a want to do or not do something. I could have helped you, or I could have not helped you. Would is finite, he is doing it because it is programmed in him that caring for you is a need. I would have helped you because it is the only thing I know to be certifiably true, that you deserve to be cared for.

“It sounds stupid out loud but I was afraid you wouldn’t like me the same if you saw me like…that. It seemed logical for me to remove that option altogether.”

His heart aches painfully, and he wishes he could take everyone who’s made you feel that way to target practice. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world. I would spend every day of my life proving that to you.” he utters with unequivocal resolve.

You sigh out shakily, “You’re too kind to me.”

“I’m always kind to you. You deserve kindness. You deserve a lot of things actually…” he trails off.

“Like what?” you ask.

“Well, did you um—” he trails. You look at him quizzically, he continues, “Like before I came in did you…finish?”

Oh. “Oh. I…I don’t think I did, actually. It’s okay though, no big deal.”

He stares at you intently, “Do you want to?”

Your eyes widen, “Spence oh, no it’s okay really you don’t have to do that.  

“You’re encouraged to say no if you feel even an ounce of doubt, but I’m offering because I love you and I want to show you that you can feel safe with me, even when you feel otherwise.”

The familiar sting returns to your eyes as the tears pool up. You’re not used to anyone putting this much effort and concern for your comfort, it’s a novel feeling but if Spencer is willing to handle you with as much care as he is, you’re ready to welcome that sentiment in with open arms.

“Yeah, yes.” you waver.

He grins and leans down, gingerly pressing his lips to yours. His hand ghosts from your calf to your knee, testing the water before moving more intent. An unwelcome yet familiar onset slowly rises, trying to break through to you, “Wait—“

He retracts his hand immediately, “You okay? We can stop if you need to.”

You shake your head. “No, no I’m fine. I just need a second.” you breath out, trying to self regulate. 

He pulls back his hand but you stop him, “No keep it there, it helps. I just…” You don’t know how to phrase it. You think it’s because you’re not in control. When you’re alone it’s only you at the helm calling the shots. But when it really comes down to it, the lack of control is nothing compared to the lack of predictability that comes with the former. Explaining that out loud was daunting to even think about.

Yet Spencer understands what you need, because he always knows what you need. His hand returns to your knee, giving it a soft squeeze, “You tell me to stop whenever you need to.”

He continues kissing you while smoothing his hand up your leg, making wide and sweeping motions across the plush of your thigh so you can feel where he is and where his hand is going. The gesture is comforting and makes you feel grounded, but your head is in a dreamy haze at how good Spencer’s hands feel on you.

The haze leaves through your lips as Spencer feels you sigh against him, feeling you relax more and more as the seconds go by. His hand reaches your upper thigh, fingers ghosting on the inside. “Is this okay?”

You nod, feeling your nerves idling like a distant wave in the ocean. But Spencer’s presence is a lighthouse shining through the fog and guiding you to his shores while the calm washes over you.

His fingers lightly trace the fabric of your panties, ones that you had slid back up your hips upon his entrance into the room. The motion causes you to jump and he pulls back to gauge your reaction. When he sees no fear in your eyes, more so stunned by your wide eyed gaze, his fingers move with more precision, adding more pressure to your clothed core.

A gentle gasp leaves you as he strokes up and down your slit. You’ve given up on continuing to kiss him, the feeling of his hands being too overwhelming to have both sensations at the same time. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, your body involuntarily curving towards him as he draws symbols on you with his index. Your breathing gets heavier and faster the longer he goes, and soon small moans begin to escape you.

He drags his finger to the top of your panties and toys with the band, faintly asking, “You still with me, sweet girl?” You preen into the crevice of his neck as he keeps talking, “Want me to keep going?” 

He feels you nodding into him as you breathlessly whisper, “Please.”

His finger dips below the fabric and travels down to your entrance, gathering the slickness and spreading it all over you. “Fuck,” he curses softly, “Look how wet you are, baby.”

You whimper at his words and Spencer ascends to the heavens if there even is one, and if there is it’s the one where you sound like that for him. He circles back up to your clit, paying special attention to the bundle of nerves before sliding back your slit and repeating the whole sequence a few more times.

Your moans are coming out at a steady pace, and he’s been prodding around your entrance for some time now, teasing and edging you closer. “Gonna put a finger in now, okay? Doing so good for me, baby.” he murmurs.

The feeling of his finger entering you is satiating. But it’s not enough, and you need more. “Spence,” you manage to get out, “Can take another one, please.” His eyes shut tight as he revels in your desperation for him, and how cynical he must be to love having you at his mercy this much. He would confess the darkest of sins if you asked him in that tone, and he has no choice but to oblige. He stifles a groan at how easily the second finger slid in, his other hand moving up to play with your hair and cradle your head close to his chest as he works his ministrations.

The familar coil builds in your gut, but at an intensity you’ve never felt before. His fingers move in and out of you urgently, his thumb returning to your clit. He’s a man determined to get you there, and your moans and cries of his name only spur him on further. After a few minutes your moans and cries turn into whines and babbles, and he knows you’re close.

His head leans down to croon in your ear, “Shh, it’s okay. I got you, sweet girl. You can come, ‘m right here.”

It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come harder than you ever have on your own, the waves of your climax overtaking you completely. Spencer continues to pump his fingers through your orgasm, talking you the whole way down. Mutters of praises and kisses flow through your subconscious as the euphoria high takes its peak and you come back down to this realm.

His hand smoothes your hair back as you continue to pant against his chest, words unable to find you.

“You okay?”

You finally catch your breath, “That was—fuck—the most insane orgasm I have ever had.”

Spencer beams at this. For one, his obvious and impressive skills that have stunned you into oblivion. And two, because you look so relaxed. The stark difference of your anxiety filled face from when he first came into the room to the blissed out daze you have right now makes his heart swell five sizes up.

He hugs you closer and whispers, “I’m so proud of you, angel. Thank you for trusting me.”

Sleep is fighting you hard as you laugh airily and tuck yourself under his arm again, “I don’t know why I thought that would be scarier.”

He sighs, his smile faltering but still fond, “Past experiences and self perception complicate the anxiety around sex and intimacy. It’s a natural response based on your lived experiences.”

“Oh.” you mutter, slight deject in your tone.

“But we can work on it, if you want.” he adds, “It’s all up to you with what you’re comfortable with and how you want to do it. If you’ll allow me, I’d love to help you in any way I can, angel.”

You really don’t know how you got so lucky. Someone so kind, and patient, and willing to be with you as you navigate these things you normally would have kept to yourself. You feel grateful to be able to bare a piece of yourself to him, and know that he would receive it with open arms, wrapping it up and handling it with as much care as he can bear.

You cuddle closer, and mumble before your eyes succumb to sleep, “Love you. So much.”

Spencer looks down maybe two seconds later and you’re already out like a light. He chuckles softly to himself and whispers, “I love you more than you’ll ever know, sweet girl. Good night.”

[webzazes]

making this danny phantom teehee ❤️

My family always seemed like the most normal people in the world. But, we're filthy rich. I'm not a fan of it, but it's whatever. At least I have funds for passion projects, and hopefully, in due time, my own greenhouse (I've wanted one for years).

I actually only learned what really made us so successful recently, though. Ever since I was young, I was told over and over again that it was due to an invention, something useful and prominent in everyday life. However, it turns out that we're so wealthy because of black magic.

The thought alone inspired me so much, and I was already into gothic and fantastical things- it practically tripled my obsession. My parents, however, thought I was "too obvious" or "too gloomy" for our happy little family, especially because of my style of dress, but I was dead-set on breaking away from the norm after I learned how, well, not normal we are under wraps.

This made me a loner at school. I was different, and I wasn't a fan of going out of my way for friendships, let alone any unnecessary social interaction. I kept to myself, and became "the weird goth girl". Honestly, I was happy with that.

But, being a loner led me to Danny. And, of course, his friend Tucker. They accepted me- although we did butt heads at times, as is natural. We'd go to Danny's house, hear about his parents' work, and especially, their obsession with ghosts.

As someone getting into the occult, (I was actively training myself with books from our family library) I was interested. Very interested. I knew about souls, zombies, and demons, but not so much about ghosts themselves, the physical representation of a consciousness and soul tied down to Earth.

So, when Danny brought us to his basement to show us the "ghost portal" his parents were working on, I was excited. Really excited. Of course, I didn't let that show, I figured it might be as dumb as all of the other Fenton tech, and I wasn't expecting it to be dangerous, either.

But, when Danny stepped in to try and turn it on, I realized it was, in fact, dangerous. Very much so. The sheer amount of force I felt when the portal opened was almost painful- but never could be as painful as the sight of what happened to Danny because of it. He looked almost burned in places, and practically wilted to the ground.

He was limp. And he didn't look right, either- his hair was a shocking, clear white, and his eyes were green. At the time, I didn't even notice that the protective suit he was wearing had changed. But I could 100 percent tell that he was dead. Stone cold and limp, dead.

Tucker looked to be on the verge of tears, but I didn't care. I had to do something! I could feel some kind of residual energy on Danny's body, and I thought, "a source". A source of power for me to use, something I could heal him with.

Healing was my passion. I've always cared for life. Especially in this instance- Danny wasn't allowed to die. He couldn't die. I don't know what I would've done if he did..

So, in a split second, I was by his side. I was full healer mode, to the point I knew I couldn't let Tucker see my face. If he saw my eyes, well, he certainly wouldn't have been able to forget them any time soon..

I grasped at the energy left on Danny, and I made it mine. My emotions made me strong, determined, and I used that energy to successfully make an offering to Danny's soul. It was like summoning a demon- I'd seen my mom do it before- but more intimate, as I touched his spirit, poured its power into his bloodstream, and pulled at it, as I tied it to his body. I could almost feel the ectoplasm in my hands- and that's when I realized what the residual energy really was. Ectoplasm.

The ghost portal was real.

All in all, the whole process of "fixing" Danny, well.. it felt like nothing. And it really was quick. Thankfully, once I told Tucker that Danny was breathing, he didn't think to question the wait. He said nothing. And I couldn't bring myself to say that Danny was still cold..

So, hurriedly, we took Danny to his room, and told his parents he was tired. We said that he fell asleep while playing games with us. That was it.

That is how it all started.

You always wanted to be a Healer. Unfortunately, your dad was an Necromancer and your mother a Demon Summoner. So your healing was a bit… unconventional to say the least.

[hyprfixate]

for the taking :: [B.C] x [H.J] x [K.S] x reader

read on AO3

summary: of your three boyfriends, you like to push chan's buttons the most so that he'll really get things going. you sadly underestimate how wild things can get when you rile him up.

pairing: kim seungmin x bang chan x han jisung x reader

tropes: poly!skz mmmf foursome, porn without plot

smut warnings: mentioned free use dynamics, dacryphilia, dom/sub dynamics, brat play, overstimulation x100000, pussy eating, implied mxm dynamics, dom jisung, soft dom/sadist seungmin, hard dom/brat tamer chan, mentions of safewords (it's not used), unprotected sex but it's a long established relationship, reader initiated slight cnc, dirty talk, reader is called a slut as a degradation thing. it's really just pure filthy, not a plot point in sight.

author's note: i didn't plan to write this at all. idk where it came from. enjoy anyway!!

word count: 8.7k

You're laying on your stomach in your bedroom. The lights are dim, music is thrumming from your speaker, and there's a candle on your wax warmer.  It's a quiet, soft night, the kind that you don't see many of. There's always something going on in the duplex you share with your partners. It can be tiring, but in the quiet, you realize you sort of miss it. You fiddle with the green beaded bracelet on your wrist as you scroll aimlessly through your phone.

Then, the door across the hall slams.

Only you and Chan are home tonight, Seungmin and Jisung off God-knows-where for whatever reason. Chan was supposed to go out with them, but he had a project to finish for his job, the same project that had him losing sleep for the last few weeks. You may never understand what exactly goes into producing music, but from the way he stayed hunched over his computer 24/7, you knew it was complicated.

You're not at all surprised when you hear your door creak open slowly. You turn over, eyes catching Chan's as he stands in your doorway with his arms folded across his chest. He's wearing a haberdash of house clothes, including a baseball cap, but you can still see the dark tint on his eyes.

You feign innocence.

“Hey you,” you smile at him. “Taking a break?”

“Something like that. What're you doing?”

You shift your phone to the hand with your bracelet, holding it up and giving it a little shake. His gaze hardens even more. “Just on Instagram.”

His eyes are trained on your wrist, just like you wanted. He recognizes the bracelet. Of course he does– he and the boys bought it for you after one of your many, many conversations. You give a little smile. "It's cute, right? The green matches my t-shirt," you say sweetly. 

It does, but that's not the only reason you're wearing it.

You're wearing it because they know that green means go. Or yes. 

Or take.

"Did you need something, Chan?"

He doesn't respond, choosing instead to push up off of the doorframe and make his way over to you. You decide to roll onto your back to see him better, and by the time you're situated, he's standing over you, arms still crossed.

You gulp.

"Um, hi," you breathe out. Nervousness was not part of the plan. "I– Did you... need something?"

He drops one of his hands and grips your ankle, and where the skin connects you feel like you've been electrocuted. Your body comes alive immediately. You can only watch as he barely strains a single muscle as he pulls you down to the edge of the bed.

"Put your phone down," he instructs. He reaches the soft part of your thigh and pinches, lips curling into a smirk when you yelp.

"Channie, I—"

"I said," he repeats, a little harsher this time, "put your phone down."

You do as you're told, dropping it on the floor next to his feet. He keeps pulling until your entire lower half is hanging off the bed. With your legs spread like they are, you're certain he can feel the pulsing coming from between your legs.

He hums.

"You know why I'm here," he says lowly. It's not a question.

Despite the speed of your heart, you blink up at him dumbly, fighting against the wave of arousal that licks down your spine when he raises an eyebrow.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you manage.

Both of his eyebrows are up now, his expression seemingly surprised for a second before it fades. He nods lightly, almost as though contemplating what you've said, and then he releases you and takes a step back.

Your heart drops for a second. You think you've messed up somehow, or maybe your tone didn't come out right. You're about to backtrack, but then he's back, hooking his fingers into either side of your waistband, and with one simple tug he has your pajama pants completely off. 

If Chan is surprised that you're not wearing any underwear, he doesn't show it.

You gasp when the cool air hits your lower body, and you watch as he smirks. He returns his vice like grip on your ankle when you start to squirm under his gaze. 

"I see you still like to pretend that you have some ounce of control in this relationship," he deadpans. He tugs you back down the bed when you try to wiggle away. You're embarrassed that his strength doesn't seem to be affected by his sleep deprivation. "Come on, baby. You know better than that."

You fight back the giddy smile that threatens to take over your face at his voice. "I don't know what you're talking about," you lie. "Why're you bothering me? Don't you have work to do?"

"I can't focus," he says smoothly. "I couldn't stop thinking about you while I was working. About how much easier work might be if I could fuck you to clear my head."

"That's too bad," you shrug, hoping he can't see how you're clenching around nothing. "I was busy."

He hums absentmindedly, letting the hand on your ankle travel higher. He runs his fingers up your calf, then your knee, until finally he hooks the inside of his wrist behind it, forcing your legs to part. You gasp and try to snap them closed, but he only has to shift a bit so that his other hand is on your opposite leg, holding you open for him.

"Why do you always act like you're not dying for me to touch you, hm?" he asks, but it's rhetorical.  He knows you don't have an answer. You never do. Even so, when you stay quiet, he huffs out a humorless laugh.

"Okay. I'm going to give you two options, because I'm feeling generous." He holds up one finger. "Option one, you admit you're just being a brat, I'll fuck it out of you, and then we can both go back to what we were doing. Or–"

You whine as he abruptly leans down with your legs still in his hands, effectively folding you in half. "Or, option two, you keep it up, and I can tell the boys to come home. Then we'll make this a lot longer than it needs to be."

Chan is dangerously close to your face now. The brim of his hat is touching your forehead. You're almost sure he can feel your heartbeat through the fabric of both of your shirts.

"So what do you want, princess?" he asks, voice dripping with honey. 

You shiver. His gaze is so intense you forget how to breathe. At your silence, he yanks you further into him, pressing himself right up against your uncovered cunt. Even through his basketball shorts you feel the unmistakable heat of his erection.

"I said, what do you want?"

Fuck.

You can't take it anymore. You feel like you're burning with need. "I'm sorry, Channie," you whine out. You can see the fire in his eyes, the way he's so worked up already, and it makes you weak. "I'll be good."

He gives you a sweet smile, leaning forward to press a kiss against your mouth. You sigh into it, letting your body go lax so he can take control. 

Despite your attempts, brattiness never lasts long with Chan. With Seungmin and Jisung, you love the challenge, love making them crack and beg a little, but Chan is entirely unrelenting. You know better than to get him too riled up, especially if you actually want anything to happen.

The kiss is a stark contrast to what you know is to come, and you know that it's on purpose. He always likes to give you the chance to back out, a way to change your mind. Bracelet or no bracelet, your comfort is still always his first priority. It's what makes you comfortable enough to tease him.

But when he pulls away from the kiss and you chase after his mouth, he only smiles.

"There's my good girl," he says. He releases your knees and presses a kiss against your cheek, and then the tip of your nose.

"Chan," you whine. Your body feels cold where his hands just were.

He only tilts his head when he looks at you. "Hm?" Then his gaze turns sinister. "Did you... need something, princess?"

Oh. 

Shit.

"Wait,” You're scrambling up from your position. “Wait, please, Chan, don't–"

He hums. "You were so mean to me," he says, trailing a single finger down your cheek. "I don't think you deserve anything from me."

You attempt to sit up, eyes widening, but he's keeping you pinned down on your bed. "But I said I'm sorry," you whine. "Channie, please, I'll be good--"

He tilts his head again, pretending to think, letting his hand fall down your face to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"No," he decides, and he straightens up, taking a step back. "I think I'm gonna go back to work."

Before you can grab him, he's slipped away, nearly halfway to your door. "Sorry, babygirl. Maybe next time, yeah?"

The smirk on his face is proof he's anything but sorry. He gives you a fake little pout before winking and stepping out of your room, clicking the door closed behind him.

You're sat up on the bed, staring at the door with your jaw slacked. This is a new level of evil, you think. You hear his bedroom door open and shut, then the muffled sound of the track he's working on vibrates the walls.

It takes longer than you'd like for your wits to come back to you, but when they do, you're both utterly gobsmacked and thoroughly impressed.

He's teasing you.

There's a part of you that's tempted to just give in, to make your way across the hall and apologize. Chan is stubborn, but not unreachable. You know if you march into his room, you could get on your knees and make him relent in seconds.

But fine. He wants to play dirty?

You can play dirty, too.

-

It's less than an hour later when you hear the front door open and shut, the sound of Jisung and Seungmin's voices carrying up the stairs. You hear takeout bags and the jingling of their keys, and then–

“We're home!”

You make no effort to move, waiting to see if Chan will leave his room first. Besides, you're still working through some of the details of your plan.

If you stay in your room, Seungmin would come upstairs to check on you first. You know he'll fuck you good, but it takes time to warm him up. By the time you start getting anywhere, Jisung will get to Chan, who might do something stupid like tell him that you were being a brat, and then he'll come in and ruin the whole thing.

No, you need eager. You need impulsive.

You need Jisung.

You pad to the bedroom door, opening it and sticking your head out. Chan's door is still closed, the track he's working on still pumping through the speakers, so you take the opportunity to get the ball rolling.

You make your way down the hall and to the top of the stairs, where you can see Jisung standing in the entryway of the kitchen. The two have already shed their jackets and shoes, and Seungmin is now busy unloading the food they brought back into the fridge. His back is turned to you.

Bingo.

"Hey," you say softly. Jisung's head whips up, eyes brightening as he spots you. He says something you can't hear to Seungmin before he's jogging up the stairs towards you. He scoops you into a squeezing hug.

"Hi my baby," he says happily, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "How was your day?"

You giggle in the hug. "It was alright. Kind of boring. How was yours?"

"We had fun," he says. He sets you down and leans against the wall next to you, reaching and catching your hand in his. You deliberately give him the hand with the bracelet, but he doesn't see it. "I missed you though."

"I missed you, too."

Jisung grins. He opens his mouth to speak again, but then he furrows his eyebrows when he looks at you, like he's just noticing something.

"Is that my shirt?"

“Is it?” You look down, feigning surprise. "Oh, yeah I guess it is."

He hums, tilting his head. His eyes trail to your hand, and he finally seems to notice the bracelet on your wrist. "That's weird. I could've sworn I saw it in my drawer this morning."

You shrug. "Maybe you're just losing your mind."

He grins, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss against your open palm. "Yeah, maybe. Or are you trying to tell me something?"

You bat your eyelashes up at him. "Am I?"

His smile turns sly. "You are, aren't you?"

Jisung doesn't wait for a response, clasping his hand around yours and pulling you down the hallway back into your room. He kicks the door shut behind him and spins to face you, a wicked grin on his face.

You squeal when he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and laughing against his mouth. His kisses are hot and eager– there's no break for breath as he moves across the room with you. You don't even pause when he lays you down on your bed, hand sliding “his” t-shirt up your body.

You shiver when he brushes against your thigh. His hands are cold from outside, and the contrast against your warm skin feels like electricity. He smiles in the kiss and squeezes the skin tight.

Your own hands find their way around his neck, pulling him even closer into you. Through the thin fabric of the shirt you're wearing, you can feel the hardness of his body all pressed against yours. He shifts against you and the friction makes your nipples harden right under him.

His hands leave your thighs. They wind their way up your torso, feeling you up all along the way until he finds the stiff peaks that called his attention. He runs his thumbs over them, drinking up every sound you make. One of your hands cards into his hair and you tug.

He groans at that, finally pulling away from the kiss with a grunt and instead trailing his kisses down the column of your throat. His teeth graze your pulse point and you buck up into him in surprise.

You feel him laugh against you.

"You're so cute," he says into your neck. He mouths over the skin before biting down, hot wet tongue immediately after. A bruise, then.

"Sungie," you gasp out. Your back arches off the mattress as his hands wander all over you. You've always loved how naturally his mouth works its way around your body– he knows just where to kiss, what spots to brush his nose over. Like he's learned the entire road map to your pleasure.

Maybe he has.

He mouths down your body, pausing and sucking on your breasts before leaving wet, soft kisses down the expanse of your tummy. When he gets to your core, he shifts his kiss-trail over to your inner thigh.

"Do you know how hot you are?" He murmurs. "Like all the time. Holy fuck. This is my shirt, princess. My shirt. Don't you know that drives me crazy?"

You do. It's precisely why you grabbed it.

His tongue meets your skin in an agonizing, slow stripe along your inner thigh. The higher he gets, the more your legs tremble around him, until finally his lips close around your clit.

The feeling is overwhelming. Your head lolls back against the bed and you let out a breathy moan. He hums against you, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as he holds your legs up. Your hands are shaking, but one winds its way back into his soft hair, and you tug.

He moans at that, a sound that sends vibration up through your whole core. He takes a hand away and brings it down, letting his thumb just press lightly against your entrance. Even in the slightest sense of pressure, you arch further into him, wanting more, more, more.

He sucks on your clit even harder, his tongue joining, and when you look down and see his blissed out expression between your legs, you think your heart might jump right out of your chest.

In all the times the boys have taken you apart, they've never made you come this quickly. You're not sure if it's because of the moment with Chan earlier, or because you've been thinking about having one of them fuck you all day. All it takes is two large fingers, pushing and stretching inside of you while his mouth moves so perfectly around your throbbing clit for you to snap. You come with a sob, your thighs pressing against his head.

If there's one thing Jisung certainly loves, though, it's eating you out. He could spend hours between your legs, kissing and sucking and licking until you're boneless and spent. So there is no sign of slowing in his rhythm, even when you wriggle from overstimulation.

"Sung," you moan. He responds by pinching your thigh, sucking hard on your clit so your yelp turns into a moan.

Distantly, you register the sound of footsteps that pause right outside of your door. You hear knocking, but not on your door, and you realize Seungmin has finally come upstairs, likely to grab everybody for some quality time after a day apart.

You almost laugh at how well this is working out for you.

Jisung slides his fingers back into you, and your attention is split between straining to hear what's going on in the hallway and the blinding pleasure you're feeling. He curls his fingers up and you find yourself gushing on his hand, your own fingers tangled in his hair so tight he can barely move.

"God, you're so fucking wet," he murmurs against you. He almost sounds giddy. "Did you miss me, baby?"

You can't even form a response, only able to whine as he fucks into you with his fingers, tongue flicking over your clit just fast enough to make you tremble. Your orgasm is coming on strong, and you feel like you're floating above your body, every touch electric, every movement monumental.

And then–

"Ah, so that's where they are."

Your eyes snap to your now-open door. Your other two boyfriends are there, and you make direct eye contact with Chan just as your second orgasm reaches its peak. You arch up off the bed, gasping into the air as your body trembles, and Jisung keeps his mouth on you, sucking hard and making your vision go white.

After a minute, he finally slows his pace, pulling away and finger-fucking you slowly and deep. He would never stop completely, especially not now that everyone's in the same room. His voyeurism is likely cranked up to 10, and you know he'll be pouty and whiney for the rest of the week unless he gets to watch one of the other boys split you open on their cock.

From the way he's looking at you, you feel like it'll be Chan doing the splitting.

Seungmin, ever the sane one, pretends to roll his eyes. "So this is why neither of you were answering my texts about movie night? This couldn't wait?"

"Well, she was wearing my shirt and nothing under it," Jisung says, grinning up at him. He gives your clit one last suck before kissing it and propping himself up, fingers still buried to the hilt inside of you. Your brain feels foggy as you stare at the three of them. You can still feel yourself gushing on his fingers.

Seungmin notices, eyes glued to your cunt as he walks over. You see his faux annoyance dissolving. "Fuck, she's really wet, isn't she."

Jisung grins. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh. "Yeah, I think she missed us."

Chan scoffs. He finally makes his way into the room fully, and you can see where his cock is straining against the fabric of his shorts. "No. She missed getting fucked." 

He stands at the end of the bed, eyes fixed on Jisung's hand as he continues to move inside of you. "Did you tell Jisung what happened earlier, baby?"

Jisung huffs out a little laugh, half lidded eyes going back to your face. "Hmm. No. She didn't."

A chill runs down the length of your spine. Fuck. It sounds like Chan got to them first.

"Chan said you were being a real big brat earlier," Seungmin hums. He pulls his eyes away from your center and finally looks at you. "Is that true, angel? Were you being bad for Chan?"

You shake your head, eyes going doe-ish as he gets closer to you. You realize you need to change your plan and do it quickly. It takes less than half a second for a new idea to come: Seungmin is the softest of the three of them, at least in sexual situations. If you can get him on your side you might have a chance.

That thought flies out of the window when his hand makes its way around your throat, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. 

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart." His voice is deceptively soft. "Don't you think Chan already spoke to us?"

You fight back a gasp at the sheer betrayal, but decide to double down anyway. "Wasn't being bad," you manage. You stick out your bottom lip in a pout. "I didn't do anything!"

Seungmin squeezes again, harder, and you really do gasp this time. "Then why did we both get a text from Chan earlier saying you were being mean to him? Hmm?"

"He said he came to blow off some steam and someone," Jisung presses his fingers directly against that squishy part inside of you, "Was being all bratty. Telling him to leave her alone."

It's at this moment that you realize all your planning was futile. You've fallen right into their trap.

You try the Seungmin strategy again, panting as you look up at him. "Minnie, please," you whine. You can't think with Jisung hitting your spot like that. "I wasn't– I–"

He tilts his head. "Oh come on baby. I think you're just lying to us now."

Your chest heaves. Jisung has chosen now to dive back into your cunt, tongue swiping up your slit and circling around your clit. Your brain is too scrambled to think of any other ways out of this situation, so you resort to what you always do: 

Pleading.

"'m sorry, Minnie," you rasp. "Didn't mean to– Didn't mean to be bratty."

Seungmin softens only slightly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" You're gasping around your words. "I promise. I just wanted to make him mad, wasn't trying to be mean."

In all of your begging and the relentless fervor of Jisung's tongue, you barely notice Chan making his way to the other side of your bed. Seungmin's grip loosens around your throat, his fingers tracing the outline of your jaw as he takes in your words.

"Hm. What do you think, Chan?"

You turn to look at him. He's shed his shirt somewhere along the way, and the hard musculature of his stomach is glistening with sweat. He climbs onto the bed and situates himself so that he's behind you with your head in his lap. You're expecting his hand to replace Seungmin's around your throat, but instead he reaches over you, gripping the hem of your shirt and sliding it up over your chest until your breasts are on full display. Seungmin immediately sinks down to his knees and takes your nipple into his mouth.

You're a gasping, whining mess, eyes rolling back until all you can see is white. You feel Jisung sling his arm around you to keep your body still.

Above you, Chan lets the shirt go and switches his focus to your hands, pulling them up and holding your wrists together in one hand to keep them above your head.

"I think," he murmurs, using his free hand to caress your face, "That if she wants to cum so bad, we should let her."

Your heart drops. To the untrained ear, it sounds like you've won, but you know better. You know Chan, and you know he has something up his sleeve. But when you look up at him, he's looking down at you with a sickly sweet smile.

"If she's sorry," he continues, "She'll behave. Right, babygirl?"

You can't speak. The dual sensations are sending you to the moon. The hand caressing your face grips your jaw tight, keeping your gaze locked on him.

"I asked you a question, princess."

As soon as you open your mouth to answer, your orgasm crashes into you without warning. It's the third one in a row, and you feel much like a washcloth that's been wrung out. Your movements are jerky, uncoordinated, and even as you continue trying to respond to Chan, your voice is not coming out.

"Jisung." He says simply.

The boy in question pulls away from your cunt with a satisfying pop. He's absolutely pussy drunk, eyes half lidded and tongue rolling over his lips to savor the flavor of you. If it were just the two of you, he'd keep going, but amongst the hierarchy of dominance, Chan has been, and will always be, at the top.

"I think she's ready now, yeah?" Chan rubs his thumb against your skin. "Fuck her good for me."

When orchestrating your own plan, you looked at Jisung’s eagerness as something to work in your favor. You hoped he would get you riled up enough for you to scream his name a couple times and really make Chan mad. But now, as he shimmies out of his sweats and boxers, taking his thick length in his hand, you feel nervousness tickle your gut.

Seungmin has pulled away from your nipple, reaching down to hold one of your thighs up. He's murmuring sweet nothings to you as he holds you open for Jisung. The latter is poised at your entrance, stroking himself and watching you with hungry eyes. 

You tip your head back to look at Chan again, and he only smiles down at you.

"Channie," you whimper out. You can barely speak, you're so overwhelmed. "Please–"

"Shh," he coos. "I know, baby. But this is what you wanted, yeah?" His hand moves from your jaw to your mouth, pressing a finger against your lips. You suck it in without thought, letting your tongue swirl around him with your cheeks hollowed out like you would on his cock. "I just want to see you take Sungie's dick. Be good, baby."

You almost choke when Jisung thrusts into you. You're already so wet and so sensitive, and his cock is stretching you so wide, pushing deep inside until you're sure you can feel him in your stomach. He gives you no time to adjust, that eagerness coming full force as he fucks right into you.

"God, she's still so tight," he breathes. One hand finds purchase in the dip of your waist, the other moves to the thigh not being held by Seungmin, folding you up and spreading you open to give him more leverage as he fucks into you hard.

Seungmin hums, trailing kisses along your leg and the side of your neck. "Feel good, angel? You like having Jisung's cock inside you?"

You can't even respond, mind blank as Jisung plows you deep. Your back is arched off of Chan's lap, head pushed back as his finger keeps your mouth propped open. You're a dumb, drooling mess around him, and despite the soft smile on his lips, you know it's wrecking him. 

To prove your point, he digs his nails in one of your palms, a stark contrast to the way Seungmin's hand is gently rubbing up and down your body, playing with your nipples and caressing your sides and stomach.

It's all too much, the sensations are overwhelming, and you're so wound up from earlier that you already feel the orgasm building. You mewl pathetically, eyes watering as you look around for someone to have pity on you.

It's Chan who catches your pleading gaze, but he only raises an eyebrow.

"You're gonna cum again? Already?" he says. It's not condescending or snarky, rather genuine disbelief and curiosity. His finger leaves your mouth and you let out a dry sob as trails of spit drip down your chin.

Jisung doesn't hear this– or can't, rather. He's fucking into you like he'll die if he stops, breathy moans leaving his mouth as he does. He's babbling nonsense, things like how tight you are and how well you take him in. You know he's close too, because his hips have gone erratic in their rhythm. Yet somehow, he gets faster.

The knot in your stomach feels heavy as lead. This orgasm might genuinely take you out. 

"Please," you rasp. "Please, please, I can't–"

Chan shakes his head, smiling. "Oh, but baby, I thought you wanted to cum?" 

"I do," you whine. "Want to so bad but 's too much. Too much, Channie, please–"

"No. Shut up and cum, princess," the grit in his voice is back. "Cum on Jisung's cock. Be good for us."

That's all it takes for you to snap. You let out a broken cry as another orgasm rocks through your body. It's even more intense than the others, pulling all of your muscles taut so you sit up before slumping back into Chan's arms. You barely register the way your hands flex uselessly above your head, writhing in Chan's grip. You can only vaguely feel Seungmin kissing your cheek, whispering little encouragements in your ear, telling you how good you are and how pretty you look when you cum.

And then Jisung is grunting, snapping his hips against yours one last time before spilling into you. Your walls spasm around him as he cums, milking him dry and causing you both to whine into the air.

In typical Jisung fashion, he's still rutting up into you after you're both well past overstimulation. The pressure in your cunt throbs throughout your body, tears springing into your eyes. You're very close to abandoning the little bit of pride you have and begging him to stop.

It turns out you don't need to, because as if on cue, Jisung finally pulls out and Seungmin lets go of your legs, standing up. You nearly sob at the loss of his gentle contact, so you don't even notice he's taking off his clothes until he's standing where Jisung was, hands gripping the soft skin of your thighs to hold you open. 

"Aw, baby," he says softly. He runs a hand up your leg. "You did so well."

You pout, a sob bubbling in your throat when you realize their plan now. They're gonna drag as many orgasms out of you as they can, overstimulation be damned. The thought makes your clit throb, and that alone makes you whine. It's all too much.

Despite knowing you're already so wet and lax and malleable, Seungmin reaches down to rub at your clit in an attempt to open you up. 

"Min," you cry, squirming at his touch. Your cunt feels tender, and even though the first set of tears are long dried up on your cheeks, fresh ones start to come. "Minnie–"

"Shhh. It's okay, angel."

His words are gentle and reassuring, but when his eyes catch yours, all you see is darkness.

Seungmin's gentle dominance has a limit. He doesn't get all stern and mean like Chan, or desperate like Jisung, but there's only so long he can last before that other, darker part of him surfaces, the one that gets off on hurting you, on seeing you in pain and feeling good from it. You can tell by the look in his eyes that this is the part of him you'll be dealing with.

When he finally sinks his cock inside you, it's slow, and the moan that he lets out vibrates through his length and right into you. Your neck seems to give up, dropping you right back down in Chan's lap less than gracefully. It gives him better access to you, and he leans immediately to attach his mouth to yours. He alternates between soft kisses and hard bites that will surely bruise in the morning.

Seungmin is only a bit longer than Jisung, but he's so damn girthy. Every tiny thrust he rocks into you sends shivers down your spine. Your skin feels like it's on fire and you're not even kissing Chan back, basically panting into his open mouth.

"Prop her up, Chan," Seungmin grits out. "Wanna watch her while she cries."

He gives you one final peck, and then the hand that's still holding your wrists lets go. It takes a second, then both hands are under you, lifting you up off the mattress until you're sat up on his lap with his chest against your back. He crosses your wrists against your chest and holds them in one hand, and then the other snakes up and finds your throat. His hand is way bigger than Seungmin's, and he's not as gentle when he squeezes and forces you to look back at him.

He doesn't look mad, or even turned on. He's smiling at you, like you're a particularly good puppy. "Good girl. Gonna give us a big one, yeah?”

You barely have a moment to understand what he's implying before you feel a hand on your clit. Both of Seungmin's hands are occupied, so you're not sure why it surprises you to see that it's Jisung's deft fingers on you. He's standing behind Seungmin, one hand on him and the other on you.

It feels like your eyes are bulging out of your head. The touch is gentle, but it still feels like you're being hit with lightning bolts. You're too spent to even buck up at the contact.

"Oh my God," you choke. "Oh, oh, I–"

“That's it,” Chan purrs when you cum again. He kisses whatever skin is closest to his mouth, his fingers gripping your jaw. Your head feels light, the only thing keeping you grounded to the bed are their hands on you. You feel like you're going to faint, and Seungmin's eyes are only egging you on.

Your body trembles so violently, Seungmin is forced to pause in his motions to hold your knees and keep your legs from buckling in. Your vision is blurry, but you can see Jisung has a steady grip on Seungmin's hair, effectively holding him in place.

"Good girl," he breathes, those big brown eyes trained on your face. "You take him so well."

His words send shivers down your spine. Jisung is always more coherent and in control after an orgasm. You know if Seungmin was today's focus, Jisung would likely be spitting all kinds of nasty, filthy words in his ear, but his gaze is fixed on you. All it takes to get you going is a good stare.

He taps at your clit with his free hand. You jump, moaning loudly at the contact, your back arching off Chan's chest and into Seungmin's body.

"She's good. Keep going," Jisung murmurs, pulling his eyes away from yours to look at Seungmin. He pulls a little at the hair on the nape of his neck, causing Seungmin's cock to jump inside you.

They work in tandem. Jisung's hand keeps circling your clit in the same soft rhythm, and you're not sure how but it's making you even wetter and more loose. You're a mess of moans, not knowing whose name to scream when they all have their hands on you. It's dizzying in the best way. 

Seungmin has started rolling his hips into you with more vigor, the soft sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. The dark shroud over his eyes is back as he stares down at you. "Feels good doesn't it," he grunts. "Look at your little cunt fluttering open for me like a good slut."

You feel another sob bubble out of you, this one accompanied by tears, but it dies in your throat when Chan's grip on you gets even tighter. All you can do is pout and whine.

"Aw, look at the little crybaby." Seungmin starts to fuck into you in earnest, his own moans getting higher in pitch. You can tell by the way Jisung's grip in his hair tightens that he's close. "C'mon angel. You're being so good, you can take it."

"Minnie," you rasp, barely able to speak. "Please–"

"I said take it." He’s looking down, watching where your cunt is sucking him in with each thrust. He thrusts into you particularly hard, and your entire body lurches forward, causing you to gasp. "And if you can't, you know what to say. You know your word."

You do. Somehow, under all the begging and pleading, you're actually insanely giddy with want. It's all part of the little game you play, so you just pout pathetically at Seungmin as his hips snap harder into yours.

"She's not gonna say it," Chan sing-songs. He uses the hand on your throat to tilt your head to the side, giving him perfect access to more of you. He nips at your skin. "She likes being treated like this. Like a little toy."

It's all too much. Every inch of you is on fire, the room feels like it's a thousand degrees. Chan's mouth on your neck, Seungmin's cock deep in your cunt, and Jisung's fingers–

It's like something snaps.

A knot you didn't even realize was in your stomach explodes and your vision goes white. It's an orgasm unlike anything you've experienced before. Your brain completely melts, your hearing dulls, and you can feel the drool running down your chin. You feel like you're floating and drowning all at the same time. 

"Oh shit," you hear Seungmin groan. Your cunt is spasming around him. His thrusts become harder, sloppy. "God, fuck–"

He cums hard inside of you, hips jerking as he chases the aftershocks. You've gone completely limp, barely able to move at all as Chan continues to bite at your neck.

The hand on Seungmin's shoulder drops. "That's so hot," Jisung mutters, almost to himself. He's lost some of his in-control voice. "Wow, baby, you should be bratty more often.”

If you could see straight, you'd probably laugh at that.

Seungmin pulls out slowly, and when the head of his cock leaves you, you let out a tiny mewl. You're overstimulated to the point that you're numb. Seungmin smiles softly as he rubs the inside of your thigh.

"Oh, sweetheart, I know. It's a lot. But you're being so good for us.  I think it's Chan's turn though, hm? Wanna make him feel good?"

"Give her a minute," Jisung chides. You hear a sharp intake of breath and you know he's likely yanked on Seungmin's hair again. "She's about to pass out."

You can feel your limbs slowly returning to you, the fog clearing in your head. When Chan moves the hand from your throat, you breathe deeply, taking in gulps of air as moves his hand down to rub against your tummy. Jisung and Seungmin are bickering somewhere around you, and you let yourself relax in Chan's hold.

"Do you want to finish now, princess?" His lips are warm against your ear. "We can be done. You don't have to take me.”

It's a very tempting offer, especially with the way you can hardly remember what day it is. You could easily take it and call this all done. The four of you have almost certainly been at this for more than an hour now, and they've wrung six orgasms out of you. They're sweet enough to offer to call it a night.

But then you think about Chan, and how, despite being the reason this all started, he's barely done anything. Hasn't tasted you, hasn't shoved his cock down your throat– He's usually not one for letting go until you've milked him dry at least twice, and you can't stand the idea of him having that buzz under his skin all night. 

So you shake your head.

"No?" Chan laughs, almost like he's surprised. "Really? You still want to finish with me? Are you sure, princess?”

He's giving you the same offer he gave you earlier. An out. Making your comfort the first priority. The thought alone is what gives you the strength to nod against him.

"'m sure, Channie."

"Oh, fuck, okay." His grip around you goes a little slack as he moves, pulling you away from his lap and  laying you back into your bed. He leans over you and presses a gentle kiss against your mouth. It feels like he's thanking you, almost.

When he pulls away, his eyes are sparkling. You want to look into them for hours.

He barks something at Jisung and Seungmin, and the bickering stops immediately. You hear shuffling around you before Seungmin takes Chan's empty space and Jisung appears at your side. They're pressing soft kisses to your face and praising you as Chan works his shorts and boxers down. When his cock springs free, he lets out a hiss of relief.

The sight of him alone makes anxiety rear its ugly head. You start to wonder if maybe you should've taken the opportunity to tap out, or if maybe you should use your safeword, but then Jisung is grabbing your hand and pressing kisses against it, squeezing you and keeping you tethered to the present.

"You can do it, pretty girl," he murmurs in your ear, breath fanning over your cheek. "You did so good for us, just a little longer."

Chan catches your eyes, and he smiles again, reassuring. His hand runs down your body and grabs one of your legs, lifting it and hooking your calf over his shoulder. "Gonna go easy, baby. I know it's a lot."

Your stomach is filled with butterflies, and your hands are shaking a little bit when he ruts himself up against you. You're so open from the others that when his head catches on your entrance, it nearly slips inside.  

Your back arches as you moan, and then his cock brushes against your entrance with purpose and it feels like you're going to split right open. He rocks into you again, pushing in the barest inch and pulling right back out. You whine and shift your hips in an attempt to escape.

"Come on, be a good girl now, princess." His voice has gotten lower, lust taking over. "Relax.”

His eyes flit up from where you're connected to look at you, and in one move he pushes right inside of you.

It doesn't hurt– you're way too wet and open for that. It does feel like your stomach is being forced open, however. Like his cock is pressing against all of your internal organs. You arch up off of Seungmin's lap and he pulls you back to him quickly.

Chan groans, bottoming out inside you. His eyes are closed as he lets himself bask in the sensation, hips rocking shallowly. You're thankful that he doesn't move immediately, but even the barest amount of movement feels like too much, like you'll come apart at any second.

You barely feel it when Jisung slips your hand into his. It takes you a minute to realize it's because your brain has been reduced to nothing. Your body has melted into the bed, your muscles are lax, and there's an emptiness in your brain filled with nothing but static and Chan's name. You don't think about anything at all, can't form a single coherent thought. You don't feel the kisses on your throat or the way Seungmin's hands have taken residence on your stomach. The only thing you feel is the overwhelming pressure in your cunt as Chan slowly pulls out, leaving just the tip, before pushing all the way back in.

He builds a rhythm quickly. Seungmin is holding you tight to his body, as though he's scared you might float away, and you appreciate it because it gives you another sensation to focus on. Your head is lolled against his shoulder, eyes rolled back into your head so far all you see is white.

The sound of Chan fucking into you is absolutely obscene, a mixture of your juices and the remnants of the cum still leaking from your hole. He fucks you slow, but hard, snapping his hips into yours so hard it almost feels like you might get a bruise on your thigh.

Jisung is watching with hungry eyes from your side. He's not touching you at all anymore, too engrossed in the scene unfolding to do much else other than stare with his jaw slacked. Seungmin takes over for him.

"That's it," he breathes. "That's it angel, look at you." He moves the hand on your stomach and lets his thumb rub circles on your clit. You feel like you're going to pass out. You don't get time to beg him to stop before you feel that same hand move to your mouth, and two fingers push past your lips.

"Here, sweetheart," he breathes, eyes fixed on your lips as you suck his fingers. "That's you on my fingers, baby. Isn't it good?"

You moan around his hand, head spinning both at the taste of yourself and the intrusion of Seungmin's fingers in your mouth. He's not fucking them into you with any kind of rhythm, just shoving them in there until you're dribbling around his hand. He hums happily when he pushes in more and makes you gag, kissing away the tears the spill over.

Chan grunts, head falling back. "Min, again, please, she just– fuck, she–"

Seungmin doesn't need to be told twice. He repeats the motion again, making sure his fingers go far enough so you're choking around him. This time, when you splutter and gag, you can feel it when you clench down on Chan and his cock pulses in response.

"Oh my God," he moans, thrusting into you again. "Oh my god, baby, you're so good. You're doing so fucking good–"

Between the movement of his hips and the feeling of Seungmin's fingers down your throat, you're not quite sure you're still on this plane of existence. Everything is spinning around you, your cunt is throbbing, you can hear Jisung moaning somewhere, but you don't know from what.

You can feel Seungmin's lips pressed against your forehead as his fingers fuck your mouth, your eyes rolling back into your head again. You're so lightheaded, so far gone, you can barely remember your name. 

It's when Chan starts to thrust faster that you come back to your body with a jolt, mind filling with white hot heat. The pleasure has long since lost it's edge, and you're a moaning, writhing, teary mess again. The coil in your stomach starts to build for the seventh time, and you're pretty sure your brain has gone empty. The only thing you're able to focus on is Chan. Chan, Chan, Chan.

"Almost done, angel." You register a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth, and then another on your forehead. You think the voice belongs to Seungmin. Maybe, if the way he eases his hand out of your mouth is any indication.

Nothing is making sense anymore. It all feels like you're having an out-of-body experience.

Chan's hips falter, and his hand slides up to your throat again, but he doesn't squeeze. Just rests it there as his orgasm approaches, hips snapping against you at an erratic rhythm.

"Sweetheart." His eyes flutter open with strained effort, but they remain locked on yours. "Can you give us one more, princess? Hm? Can I get you to cum on me too, please?"

There's a desperation in his voice that makes your body feel hot. You want to tell him yes, that you're close, so so close, but all that comes out is a weak noise that you're not even certain you made. 

Seungmin seems to get it though, because he slips his fingers down between your legs, finding your clit again. He rolls it between his fingers with one hand while his other reaches up and settles on your jaw. You feel Jisung's tongue flick over your nipple and your world draws to a pinpoint.

Chan curses above you, fucking into you at an almost punishing pace. "Yes, baby, let go for us. That's it. We got you."

It feels like someone's stuck a vacuum in your brain with the incoherent way you're thinking. The sound of his voice saying your name in that desperate tone is all it takes, and suddenly you're floating out of your body, ears ringing as the pressure inside you bursts. Your eyes roll back and the clinging remnants of an orgasm wash through your body. It feels more like an aftershock. You're only vaguely aware of the way Chan moans, loud and throaty, when he finally spills into you.

It takes a couple minutes before the two of you come back down to earth. You can't move, and even though you know Seungmin is holding you tight, it feels like you might drift right off the mattress and float up into the clouds.

Chan pulls out slowly, and you shudder when you feel a trickle of his cum leaking from your hole. It's not long before your eyes droop shut from pure exhaustion. You think you might pass out right on the spot.

The room gets kicked into gear pretty quickly after that. From what you can tell in the hazy state you're in, someone grabs a wet cloth to wipe you down with while someone else finds you a new t-shirt (and panties this time). They dress you like you're a doll, maneuvering your limbs and telling you you're good, you're so good, they love you so much.

Then you're scooped up into a pair of arms while the distant sounds of sheets being pulled off the bed floats up to you. They take you out of the room.

"You did so good for us, baby." The owner of the arms whispers against your ear. From the cadence in their tone you're pretty sure it's Jisung. "You were such a good girl for us, sweetheart. We're so proud of you."

You think you nod against him, but you can't be sure. You hear him kick a door open, and then he sets you down on a bed and you register Seungmin and Chan coming in.

"Okay," Jisung murmurs, going through his aftercare list out loud. "Fresh bed, fresh clothes, we got her some water."

You feel the bed dip behind you. "We got it, but she's gotta drink it, though," Chan chimes. There's fondness in his voice as he scoots closer to you. "Come here, baby."

You let yourself go limp, and a content smile plasters on your face as your boys fuss over you and make sure you're comfortable. They're so gentle, despite what just transpired, and they all take turns pressing kisses against your head, your cheeks, your nose.

When you've all settled into the bed, you feel three pairs of arms around you, holding you close, and you feel insanely lucky for all of it. You snuggle deeper into someone's chest, humming absentmindedly in that dreamy, fucked-out headspace.

"Thank you," you mumble, pressing a kiss to whoever you're snuggled against. You think it's Jisung from the way they nuzzle into your cheek.

"Of course, princess," Chan replies, his voice vibrating against your back. You feel his lips press against your temple, and you smile again. "You're our good girl, even when you're a brat. We'll always take care of you.”

You don't bother replying, simply allowing yourself to sink back into that fuzzy state. You're about to slip out of consciousness when you feel Jisung's nose against your cheek.

"You really do need to be bratty more often, though."

You hear a dull thump as Seungmin smacks the back of his head, and you let their hushed bickering be the lullaby you need to lull you into sleep.

[sturniqlo]

COMFORT- SHY!MATT x SHY!READER

summary- matt loves how comfortable darling is around him, it turns him on at certain times (matt being a whole different person in bed.. yum)

cw: SMUT; dom(ish)!matt, p in v, making out, nipple play, oral!f receiving, creampie, FLUFF

an: thank you to this anon (also, this is my first ever shy!matt x darling smut fic, p.s i know the pajama bottoms are actually shorts but pretend they're underwear)

masterlist | shy!matt x shy!reader | join my taglist

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it was that point in their relationship where darling was getting very comfortable around matt-and vice versa-, not that she wasn't ever comfortable around him, just comfortable in a different light. she started doing things around him that she would only do when she was alone. one of those things is walk around in her underwear or bra.

"i'm gonna shower really quick." she said with her clothes and towel in hand. "okay, i'll be here." matt smiles as he sits against her headboard her fluffy blanket over his lap. matt being matt, puckers his lips signaling he wants a kiss. darling doesn't think anything of it, in all honestly she loves when he does that, it's because normal for them.

she even catches herself doing it sometimes. "mwah!" she intentionally says as she plants a kiss onto his lips, she can still taste the faint sherbet ice cream they shared. "don't take long, i'll miss you." he teases, squeezing her hip gently. "i'll try not to." she pecks his lips this time before making her way to the bathroom out in the hall.

as matt waited for her, scrolling through her streaming services on her tv, he got up and went down to the kitchen to get a snack. darling's parents were currently out on a camping trip since it was their anniversary weekend. with their permission, matt was able to come and stay over. they trusted matt and darling as they were once young and in love.

he opened the fridge grabbing two cold water bottles as he noticed her water bottle was almost empty. placing both of them on the island counter, matt opened the pantry and scanned the shelves. he saw the half eaten tray of her dad's strawberry danish and held back from grabbing a piece. her dad was serious about his danishes.

opting for some chips and a bit of chocolate chip cookies, he made his way back upstairs into her bedroom. as matt passed the bathroom, he heard the running water and her slight humming to the song she played on low volume.

matt returned back to the room and dug into the snacks he had brought up. still continuing to scroll through the streaming services, he didn't choose anything because he wanted to wait for darling and see what she would want to watch.

he looked around her room noticing small details that she had added. a new sonny angel hipper was added to the back of her flatscreen tv, the calendar matt had gifted her with pictures of them was hung up on her closet door, and a new pair of shoes was added to her shoe rack. he noticed every little detail.

it was about fifteen minutes later when darling walked through the door, her hair up in her designated hair towel. when matt realized what she was wearing, his breath hitched. she wore a white teddy bear tank paired with matching teddy bear boxer like underwear.

she had just started doing this around matt, walking around in her underwear. he cleared his throat as he caught himself watching her as she went into her closet to put her dirty clothes into her hamper. "find something to watch?" she said in a soft tone as she sat in her vanity across the room, watching him through the mirror as she combed her hair. "huh- oh- uh, no. i was uh- i was waiting for you. see what you wanted to watch."

she didn't realize his now worked up state. "you can put modern family back on." darling did her skincare, and lathered herself in her sweet scented lotion that drove matt crazy. he went to hulu to put the show, but he kept glancing back at darling who stood up to lather her legs.

the ends of her underwear rode up slightly and exposed the bottom of her ass cheeks. "shit." he muttered under his breath, shifting in the bed putting the blanket back over his lap. darling came closer to the bed and smiled at matt. "i feel so clean." she giggled, sitting on top of the blanket. "baby, are you not hot?" her dad had cranked up the heater before he left and it was really warm in the house.

"no- no, not really." he nervously chuckled, her scent engulfed his sense of smell. he looked down to play with his fingers, but caught eye of her plump thighs. "well i am. it's like ninety degrees in here." she fanned her tank top. matt stared at her and noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra either.

they were a couple of episodes in and darling ended up laying on her belly towards the end of the bed, which was the worst decision in matt's eyes. the curve of her ass was taunting him. the way it jiggled when she laughed or made a slight movement to get comfy, and the way her underwear rode up more.

darling didn't do it intentionally, in all honesty the thought of matt being worked up didn't cross her mind. she soon sat up and scooted to matt. "i'm bored." she told him, kneeling next to him running a hand through his hair. "what do you wanna do?" he said, his eyes raking up to her eyes and down to her lips.

"are you sure you're okay? you look pretty flustered." she furrows her eyebrows. "baby-" she gasped. "are you.. hard?" he groaned. "darling.. you're- you just look so good." she blushed at his words. "why didn't you tell me? i could've helped you all this time." she moved the blanket off of him and straddled his lap. matt was never one to just ask for sex- he was too shy to do so, he would give her little touches here and there or just stare at her.

"you know why." his hands came to rest on the silver of her skin where her tank top rode up. her hips slowly rolled against his. "baby." his threw his head slightly back. darling took the opportunity to kiss against his neck. matt got hold of her chin and connected their lips in a hungry kiss. "such a tease, hm? wearing your tiny panties around me." his finger dipped into the waistband of her underwear and let it slap against her skin. "mmph!" she whined against his lips.

"can i?" he pulled away from her, their lips red and swollen, his hands slipped under her tank top, looking up at her with pleading eyes. "please- yes." she nodded- she was now as equally as needy as him. matt wasted no time in taking her shirt off. her full, round tits on display for him. "so pretty, darling. so fucking pretty." he growled, taking her right tit into his mouth. his wet, pink tongue swirled around her nipple as he stared up at her, her eyes closed in pleasure.

"matt, oh- shit." her back arched, furthering herself more into matt. "love your tits, babe." he popped off of her nipple, moving onto the left one as his hand came up to knead the one he had in his mouth before.

after some time, he began to trail kisses around her chest up to her collarbone, up her neck eventually making it back to her lips. "lay on the bed f'me. c'mon." he patted the side of her thigh. darling came off of his thigh and laid next to him. matt hovered over her, pressing a few kisses to her neck. his kisses trailed down her body until he reached the hem of her underwear. "matt- please." she looked down at him.

"patience, darling." matt continued to press teasing kisses along her underwear. a wet patch began to form on her panties. "wet already?" he smirked, his finger prodding at the patch. "mhm- so wet for you." she rolled her hips wanting more. after pressing a kiss to her wetness, he hooked his fingers into the fabric and pulled them down. "lift up f'me." she lifted her hips so he'd be able to pull them down her legs.

he tossed the underwater somewhere on the bed, putting her legs over his shoulders. "look at that. pussys so pretty." matt was face to face with her glistening folds that we're aching to be touched. darling shivered when his breath fanned against her wetness.

pressing kisses along her inner thighs, so very close to her core, matt licked and nipped until she was a squirming wanted to be licked where she needed it most. "please, stop- stop teasing." she whined, gripped his hair to try and guide him to her pussy. "am i being mean, hm?" his tongue made very small contact, but quickly pulled away.

matt thought he had teased enough and dipped his tongue into her hole, licking a stripe up to her clit. "oh- yes!" she smiled at the feeling of his warm tongue on her. "so good, darling. taste so good." he lapped up her arousal. sucking on her lips, her back arched at the sensation- the suction around her lips and the vibrations of his muffled moans.

"just like that- fuck!" her hands fisted at the bed sheets as she didn't want to hurt matt's scalp. darlings moans and pants filled the room, her constant whines when matt would pull away for a split second. matt's hands trailed up her body as she continued to eat her out. his fingertips found her tits and he rolled her nipples in between his thumb and forefinger.

he soon pulled away due to the ache in his pants becoming too much. "baby, please let me- let me fuck you." he mumbled as he kissed up her body. he sucked a few marks onto her neck. darlings hands creeped into his hair. "mhm, yes. i want you in me." she whispered into his ear, his hips rolled against her. "yeah?" he bit down on her neck. "so bad, please." she held the sides of his face and stared at him. matt broke into a smug smile, leaning down to press their lips together.

as their lips and tongue clashed together, matt pulled down both his pants and underwear throwing them somewhere. he stroked his hard cock a couple of times, pulling away from the kiss. darling looked down to where his cock was and saw the red leaking tip, her pussy clenched around nothing. "ready f'me?" he said, slapping his dick against her clit. "yes, i'm ready." she nodded, biting her bottom lip.

matt lined his tip up with her wet hole and slowly pushed into her. darling moaned feeling the familiar stretch of matt's cock. "so tight." matt's jaw slacked at her warm walls squeezing him. once he bottomed out, he waited a few moments until she was ready for him to move.

"you can- you can move." she nodded, grabbing onto his shoulders. matt pushed out before thrusting back in making them both moan at the same time. "yes, just like that. faster, baby." darling whined. he accepted her wishes and picked up the speed.

the wet noises, along with their moans, now filled the air in her room. the occasional bang of the headboard against the wall was covered by the lewd noises. "feel you squeezing my cock, darling." he kissed just below her ear. "it's so good, matt. don't stop." her moans continued.

minutes later, matt pulled out causing her to whimper at the loss of contact. "matt- what- what are you doing." her glossy eyes looked up at him. "shh, it's okay, pretty." he pressed a kiss to her lips. "want you to flip over f'me. hands and knees, yeah?" matt knew that her being on all fours made it feel better and deeper for her. she nodded, her damp hair from her shower and the slight sweat made the baby hairs stick along her hairline.

matt got on his knees to give her space to flip over. once she was situated, matt got behind her and caressed the soft and plump skin of her ass. his hand grabbed his dick and ran it up and down her puffy, wet folds. "oh- matt." she arched her back as he circled his tip against her hole. matt didn't ram himself in, but he certainly didn't hold back. her high pitched moans and whimpers began again. only this time they were louder due to the new position and angle.

"f-fuck, you're so deep." she mumbled against the bed sheets. her once hands and knees position turned into her being face down ass up. "yeah? feel me so deep inside of your tummy, babe." his hands came to the side of her ass, holding her as he went in and out of her. "so fucking deep." she repeated.

darling felt the familiar pressure building up in her lower belly, so she began backing her ass into him. matt groaned when he realized what she was doing. "you close, hm?" he groaned, his right hand on her ass and the other on the back of her neck. "yes- yes, so close. don't stop." she cried, wanting her release.

"cum for me. cum all over my dick." matt began to do long, deep strokes. "shit- just like that." the movement in his thrusts brought her more to the edge. her fingers curled into the pillow as she mewled. "i'm- fuck, i'm cumming!" her legs trembled as she released. "that's it, baby. all over my dick, mhm." he thrusted a couple of more times before he felt the familiar sensation.

"babe- i'm close." he gently brought her up to where her back was pressed up against his chest. "cum in me. want all of it, plea- please." she cried, her hand coming behind his head as he nipped at her neck. "oh- shit." his cock twitched inside of her as he came. matt kept messily thrusting against her as he rode his high.

once she started to whine, he stopped as he knew that she had become sensitive. "it's okay, i've got you." he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. slowly and carefully he laid her back down, still staying inside of her. "is it okay if i pull out? need to clean you up." she nodded. slowly, he pulled out watching as his cum leaked out of her. matt held back a groan at the sight.

"i'll be back, gonna get some tissue."

when matt finished cleaning her up, they showered together. "baby, c'mere. wanna braid your hair." matt patted his lap. "really? think you got it?" she teased. "i definitely improved since last time." darling sat in between his legs as he worked with her hair. "so it's right over left- no, no. right over left." he muttered to himself.

although he had to restart a couple of times, he finally finished it. matt took a picture and showed her. "alright, what do you think of my masterpiece?" he handed her his phone and wrapped his arms around her waist bringing her into his chest. "it's definitely something, i'll tell you that." she giggled. some parts were pretty loose and in some her hair was sticking out. "hey, i thought i did pretty good." he pouted, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"just gotta keep on practicing." she turned around and booped his nose.

[wistsandmagic]

No Way Out (Brother I Let You Down)

Welp. I finally caved in to one of the plot bunnies @keferon 's Mecha AU keeps putting in my brain. So here, have some Swindle and Vortex ANGST.

(under the cut because it's over 2k words)

It was the middle of the night. The lights in the hangar were dimmed, the sounds of the skeleton crew that worked as night shift far away in the mechanics’ sector, not on the hangar floor. The mecha stood still in their refuel bays, waiting on the next time the Quintessons attacked, when the alarms would blare and the hangar would become a frantic cacophony of activity.

For now though, things were quiet. Still.

Lonely.

Swindle walked silently across the catwalk strung between the mecha, the smell of oil and gear lubricant seeping into his nose like an old friend's aftershave. He didn't smell that often enough nowadays. Sometimes he missed it.

Sometimes, he thought, turning at a path junction to walk down to one particular mecha's bay, one that towered over everything else in the hangar. Sometimes he just missed the people that the smell accompanied.

No one would have ever guessed that he and Vortex had been close friends. They fought like cats and dogs, always sniping at each other, yelling and picking at each other until Onslaught had to break them up before things got too physical. They'd both ended up in medbay more than once after a fight hadn't been broken up quickly enough. They were the youngest of the group, after all, and so close in age that fights seemed almost inevitable.

Swindle had thought of Vortex as the closest thing he'd ever had to a brother. When he didn't come back from that ill-fated mission...

The former pilot stopped in front of the giant mecha in the bay, the faint hint of old blood adding itself to the scents mingling in his nose. Vortex's mecha always smelled vaguely bloody, though since that young medic-turned-pilot, First Aid, had taken over, things weren't as strong. Swindle thought that might be a good thing. Maybe.

He wasn't one to really believe in ghosts, not in the way people meant. A spirit that haunted the living? Seemed improbable. Ghosts were the memories that lingered when you stared at the things the dead had left behind. The scents that once followed them suddenly wafting through the air, the feel of a missing presence, an ache that never went away. That was a 'ghost'.

But when Swindle stared at the red visor of Vortex's mech – it would always be Vortex's mech to him, no matter who piloted it or for how long – it was all too easy to imagine the other kind of ghost. All too easy to give in to the superstitions surrounding this mecha, to believe that a malevolent spirit haunted it, for all it seemed to at least like First Aid. One pilot it didn't want to kill.  

The visor stared back blankly, and Swindle caught sight of his own reflection, warped and twisted by the thick, bullet-proof plexiglass. Somehow the warped reflection felt more like it was the real him than the him that existed in his own skin, at that moment. All of the stress, the heaviness, the days of lying through his teeth and pretending he cared less than he did, that all he was in things for was the money, that the pilots that came back to base maimed and traumatized didn't matter to him as long as the program got the money needed, that his best friend who couldn't even remember that he was Swindle's best friend was laying in a hospital bed, half of his body burned and his mind in tatters didn't matter beyond his ability to bring in investors...

It was too much. It was just...too much.

"H...hey," he managed, flinching at how much his own voice cracked. Where was the smarmy car-salesman he pretended at being? The smooth operator, the con man? "...Vortex, if...if you're in there, buddy, y'mind? I just..." Tears pricked at the corners of Swindle's eyes, startling him and making him put a hand to his face. Man, he was losing it, wasn't he? "I...I just needed..."

Before he knew it, Swindle found himself slumping to the catwalk floor, his back to Vortex's mech. Knew that if the ghost stories were true, that might not be a good idea, but he'd always trusted his friend. His brother. Saw no reason to stop now. "I miss you, y'know that?" He murmured, trying to stem the flow of tears without letting his voice hitch. "The entire...the entire program's shit. I know we knew that already, but...Vee, it's got so much worse. And here I am...actively promoting the damn thing 'cause we have no other choice. " ...he hadn't called Vortex 'Vee' in years. It was usually "Tex"; that was what Vortex had preferred. Swindle was the only one that could ever get away with calling him Vee without getting punched, even so. Swindle had reserved it for special occasions, knowing he held privilege. Now seemed like as good a time as any. Vortex wasn't there any longer to half-heartedly gripe at him for the affectionate diminutive.

That didn't make it better.

Swindle leaned his head back until it thunked against the catwalk railing, letting him stare up from behind his rose-tinted glasses toward the ceiling, heedless of the tears streaming down his face. "I dunno what to do to stop it, Vee. You were always the one c-coming up with the harebrained schemes that somehow worked. You always were smarter than I am, just damn crazy. We worked so good together, like brothers, you 'n me." He laughed mirthlessly, a shaking hand coming up to cover his face as he sobbed, unable to stop himself. "...though guess I'm probably the crazy one now, h-huh. Talkin' to your mech like somehow you c-can hear me through it. Like you're gonna act like my crazy older brother again and somehow tell me this's all gonna work out in the end, and I'm not a heartless monster for doin' this, goin' along with this shit."

He didn't pay attention to the faint nudging at his side at first, figuring it was just the edge of the railing digging into his ribs. When the touch became more insistant, however, he looked down, blinking away tears. Only to stare dumbly at the very large fingertip pressed ever so gently against his side. His breath caught, and for a moment Swindle couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't move, because that was the hand of Vortex's mech, his index finger pressed almost lovingly to Swindle's side, rubbing up and down very slightly now that Swindle was actively paying attention. Almost as if it were trying to comfort him.

Dashing tears from his eyes with the back of one hand, Swindle switched his attention from the massive finger at his side to the head of the mech beside him, expecting to see First Aid curled up inside the cockpit controlling things. But no, the cockpit was empty, the faint lights inside just enough to let him see through the visor before everything flared to life, the visor turning bright and opaque as the mech's head turned slowly to look directly at Swindle.

He'd spent years pretending there was no such thing as ghosts, hating that Vortex's mech killed pilots, but refusing to believe it was anything other than glitches. To say otherwise would be having to say that something of his friend, his brother, still lingered, and Swindle couldn't help him. Now, though, he couldn't deny it. He could feel Vortex there, staring at him through the mech, through that red visor so much like Vortex's own remembered helmet. He blinked as the sound of soft static filled the air, a mechanical text-to-speech voice whispering through the speakers embedded in the mech's head. "Swindler, c'mon now. You never were one for tears, little bro."

If...if Vortex intended that to stop Swindle from crying, it had the exact opposite effect. Sure, the voice was mechanical, it sounded off, but that was still, somehow, Vortex's voice, and Swindle hadn't heard it outside of old recordings for far too long. He shakily got to his feet, one hand covering his mouth to muffle himself while the other scrabbled frantically for Vortex's finger, any and all fears about the rogue mecha deciding to crush him into paste fleeing from his mind in his desperation to have some part of Vee touching him. Only Vortex ever called him "Swindler". Only Vortex ever called him little bro.

"A...are you really in there, Vee?" Even to Swindle's own ears he sounded pathetic. Not like himself at all. It was the stress. It had to be the stress. That was the only explanation.Maybe he was crazy. Maybe watching Blurr almost die was the final straw that broke him, and now he was headed for the looney bin as soon as someone found him. Damn. But hearing Vortex's voice, even distorted by machinery, coming from his mech, broke something inside Swindle's soul, and grief came pouring out whether he wanted it to or not.

Again that soft static, again that voice. "In the figurative flesh, Swindler." Somehow it even managed to retain Vortex's characteristic croon, the way he only spoke to those he actually liked, not the bitten-off snark of those he tolerated, or the open hiss to those he actively hated. Vortex carefully raised his hand over the railing, making Swindle step back a pace, and lowered a couple of his fingers, beckoning carefully. "C'mere. Can't hug you, know you need it, but c'mere anyway." Swindle should have thought twice. Every protocol to do with Vortex – the mech, not the long-dead person – screamed about caution and wariness. But this was Vortex. The person, not the mech. Crazy, full of bloodlust, stay out of his way on the battlefield, don't make him hate you, sure, but above all else he was Swindle's mech partner, his brother, his friend closer than a brother. The one who always had his back on and off the battlefield, in ways Onslaught never could.

He stepped into Vortex's hand without hesitation, trembling hands coming down to help hold himself steady as Vortex's fingers and thumb gripped him in a hold too gentle to come from a mech's default pilotless programming. He saw the visor open, and before he knew it he was deposited gently inside, warm air that smelled vaguely of vanilla – had First Aid hung an air freshener somewhere? – already wafting through the cockpit.

The speakers crackled to life. "Find a seat, little bro." Cabling hissed out of hidden apertures, operating oddly like hands and arms as they found Swindle, pulled him in closer to the emergency jumpseat off to the side of the pilot's seat, designed for maintenance and a place to stretch if trapped in the cockpit for too long, pulling it out from the wall and ushering Swindle to sit. Like Vortex knew Swindle couldn't bring himself to sit in the pilot's seat of a mech that didn't belong to him, that still belonged to Vortex, even if First Aid was 'sharing' it now.

"Vee..." "Hush." The voice was rough, kindness having always been oddly difficult for Vortex to manage, always making him sound like he was angry at himself for daring to show any kind of humanity. That was the case now, of course. Death hadn't changed some things. A lot of things. Still, Vortex's cabling wrapped gently around Swindle once he sat, draping over his shoulders and snaking across his lap like one of Vortex's annoying full-body hugs that had always been so good simply because of their rarity, even if he had to be drunk to give them. The thought made Swindle want to tear up all over again, grief and stress radiating off of him even as he reached out to brush over one of the cables, feeling unseen eyes watching him as he did his best to gather himself, unable to feel any fear for the faint malevolent presence that surrounded him, because he knew that malevolence wasn't directed at him. It never had been."I...you didn't come back," Swindle whispered, swallowing to try and keep his voice steady. "You died, Vee, and everything else went to hell after. It's only gotten worse now, and I...I didn't...I didn't even know you were still in here. You died."

"Yeah, I died. But. Still here, little bro. Got me a good pilot now that I like, finally, but I'm still here." Vortex's voice softened a little, in ways that would make almost anyone who knew him before his death stare at him like he'd lost even more of his marbles. Nobody ever really got to see this side of him other than the one pilot in their group who was younger than him; Swindle had been the only one to deserve the softness he was capable of, and even then only in secret. "Can't get rid of me that easily. I still got your back, y'know?" The cables wrapped around Swindle tightened slightly, reiterating Vortex's point and enclosing him in just that little bit of security. A hug from his dead friend, who was not entirely dead, and always closer to being more than even a brother would have been.

"Okay Swindler. Let's talk, you'n me. Let's come up with a plan. I'm here, little bro." "Always will be."

[just-an-enby-lemon]

I'll try to be nice and polite about it because I really think you are coming from a good place: but the thing is you are just wrong.

At least based on my perspective as part of the Latam, all the factors you mentioned were struggles for you and others from the US to learn foreing languages happened here. The difference is that the average brazilian with no classes till maybe high school, the idea learning english is hard and boring and no incitive whastover still needs to know english to get okay-ish jobs, to study in certain academic fields, even to just deal with rude turists in some places. English is more and more becaming a skill that is unacessible but we still HAVE to get.

And this is by design. Is a way to keep us in our place, if we don't understand your language the oportunities created by the US egemony are closed to us and that makes less likely for people from Latin America, specially poor and native people, to get even remotedly close to an even playing field.

The problem isn't simply that you guys don't know our languages is that not knowing our languages means nothing. Doors aren't closed to you the same way they are to us. In that way the biggest problem is that we are forced to know yours.

In Brazil in theory we learn english starting at middle school. When I went to school it was starting when we were eleven. If you ever went to an english class in most public schools or even rural private schools you know that's not really how it works. We spend ten years on the "to be" verb. English was the grade people did because it was easy since we didn't actually had to do shit. The very marjority of people I know don't know english and all the ones I know that do did not learn it from school. But all of them feel like they have to.

In a more personal level I love english, I always loved languages and I would have loved to have learned english at school for fun.

But I learned english because my parents begged from relatives and took extra hours at work to give me some classes and the classes didn't even work as much as I noticed how hard it was for them and had to find ways to make it work for me. And my parents did all that because my cousin failed a bunch of job interviews for not knowing english. They did that because according to them "knowing english was becaming less a skill that helped someone in getting a great job and more a skill you needed to have to get most jobs." Neither of my parents speak english. But they did their best so me and my brother could (mostly via making me teach my brother cause they couldn't pay lessons for the both of us).

I had none of that to help me learn spanish nor italian nor any language I would love to learn for fun if I had the time.

I didn't learn english because it was fun. My brother hates languages. He still learned english after painfull horrible lessons that made me give up on my dreams of ever being a teacher.

The problems are way deeper than your shitty educacional system and it angers people like us because we had all the same problems and were forced to learn your language anyway only to see someone go "well we never had the chance" when neither did we. And I understand that not being incentivized to learn sucks, we didn't either, but the problem is way deeper. They don't want us to learn your language. They want us to have to but fail so that can be used as a justification to deny us oportunities. Is why imigrant characthers with broken english are still a joke on your media.

And this is what this post and this conversation is about. Not knowing other languages might be a result of bad education, might even be by design. But not HAVING to DESPITE the lack of everything is a privilege. And this is the point.

I rarely bring this up because it feels like fairly silly and low-stakes compared to all the other effects of american imperialism, but one of the funniest things when Americans deny that living in the imperial core and the center of global cultural hegemony confers them any sort of privilege over people from the imperial periphery is that like. In order for this conversation where you tell me you have no privilege over me to even be able to take place one of us had to learn the other's language, and it wasn't you.

I think the fact that by default the onus of learning the other's language to enable communication is always put on the other side is a pretty significant privilege on the cultural front.

[coldilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Chapter 7- the true princess of Wayne Manor

Short chapter*

_____________________________

"(Name)... I noticed something from you" Dick says "When you try something new, you stop pursuing it if you're not immediately good at it"

A reincarnated and two vigilantes go rock climbing, sounds like the start of an awful joke huh?

After the continued event of you encountering the villains and school shooters, they decided to teach you some stuff, Karate, Muay Thai, Taekwondo, jujitsu, painting, swimming, Camping, Ziplining, trying the scary roller coaster rides-

Huh?

This is slowly starting to feel like family outings

You jump further up "What do you mean?", He looks up at you "I mean... When we went swimming and Damian dived you wanted to try it out too, but when you realized you couldn't do it you just stopped, but when we tried archery and you could do it, you wanted to stay there longer"

"I just don't want to keep on trying on a lost cause, I hate feeling helpless and disappointed" you say, as you three reached the top, you rest for a bit and Jason hands you a bottle of water "what kind of helpless?" He asked

"When mom was sick, we had one problem, and it was money, I thought to myself that it'll be okay since I know how to make money, just give me a couple of months and we'll have what we need, turns out we didn't have a couple of months, I worked really hard and I was just disappointed that I couldn't save her, there I promised myself I wouldn't try on a lost cause" you drank the whole bottle and even burped after"Excuse me"

"I mean" you stated "Why didn't you think I never even tried to get along with you guys, first meeting Damian calls me an 'it', who'd expect family after that" you laugh

Nevermind the fact that you know you're in a world where they're not supposed to love you

After losing your family the first time, and your mom the second time, knowing you'll have no one after that was depressing, you wanted to at least defy the system, you told yourself that if you tried to get along with them, maybe they'll accept you

The system quickly shut that thought down by telling you that "In any of the fics you've read, were any of the readers successful?"

Basically telling you that if in the fiction you've read no main character succeeded, you trying to gain their love would do nothing, you'd just set yourself up for failure

Reader... I'm sorry but you are on the verge of failing, at this rate, you won't get the special reward...

You look up at the screen in curiosity, their hatred meter was on 2%, but the past few days that the new vigilante Protagonist has been fighting with the bat family, it went up again to 15%, and whenever they spend time with you it goes down again, when they spend time with protagonist it goes up again, you honestly have no idea what's going on

Bruce's hatred meter is already in the negatives, if all of them go to the negatives you've failed

Dick hugs you "Let's go shopping" he smiles

____________________________

And you find yourself at the mall, you find some books you think you'll like and Jason pays for you, you find some clothes you think you'll like and Dick pays for you

They both drag you to a dress store, and to be honest you feel like you're forgetting something really important

You open your phone to find no messages, not from your friends or anyone

They settle you with a black dress you like, of course they'd pick something in their color, and you ride the taxi home

The Manor is eerie and quiet, Alfred isn't there to greet your return and frankly you're worried, he's always there to greet us, did something happen?

The Joker attacked? But you didn't see any bat patrolling? And why would Dick and Jason be with you?

You open the doors of the manor and-

"Happy birthday (Name)!" They yell, there you see Alfred, your friends, children from the orphanage you visit, the children you tutor, and some paparazzi, some rich looking people you don't know, and holy fuck- is that the justice league in civilian form!?!? oh and also your family is here

Right.

It's your 16th birthday...

And this... Is your first official Wayne Gala

You totally forgot.

You rarely celebrate your birthday... Because sometimes, the system tells you to celebrate it alone, sometimes it doesn't, you only remember your birthday when the system makes a mission surrounding it

Shit.

You can't get out of this one

Bruce smiles at you and he takes your hand the music starts

Another shit.

Is this a father-daughter dance?

It is.

Everyone is eager to see it, the paparazzi has cameras pointed at the both of you, your friends are smiling enjoying the party, and the kids are laughing

"(Name) Looks like a princess!" A kid says

You laugh uncomfortably "I don't know how to dance" you whisper to your father (that's a lie, you're amazing), he then places your feet to step on his "that's fine" he says

Then you he dances, his feet guide yours and it becomes this adorable moment where dad doesn't mind that his daughter doesn't know how to dance and is just happy that your in his arms

You are screaming on the inside.

How could you forget about something like this!?!?

You see his hatred meter drop even more, then you see the others, from 15% it goes to 10% then 5% then-

The dance finishes, the crowd claps and cheers, the dance showing you and your father's closeness...

Then a girl speaks "Excuse me?" She says, Everyone's attention is on her and she smiles, she runs to your father "I'm so happy to finally meet you!" She holds his hands pushing you away

Bruce pulls away from her "What are you doing!?" He glared

She looked flustered but smiled either way, she pulled out some documents and gave it to Bruce

"I thought it would be the right moment to tell you since everyone is here... I'm your long lost daughter Viviana!"

_____________________________

EHEHEHEHEHHEHE MANHWA READERS YALL PROLLY KNOW WHERE THIS IS GOING

____________________________

@jellyedkazoo @vanilliona @shyenemyperson @popboomcha @plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist @justatimidcreator

[rosenclaws]

Would You Fall In Love with Me Again || Worst!Logan x Reader

Would you fall in love with me again If you knew all I've done? The things I cannot change Would you love me all the same? I know that you've been waiting, waiting for love

warnings: angsty af, happy ending, sad logan.

wc: 1.5k

a/n: I heard this song and immediately pictured Logan so this fic was cooked up! I hope y'all like it <3 I'd recommend listening to the song while reading or before or after! Its a great musical btw

Logan holds the small piece of paper in his hands. It's been crumpled and flattened countless times. He turns it over in his hands, the faded black in is just bright enough to read. He glances down at it again. Written on it is an address. Laura's words playing over and over in his head.

Find her. She would want to see you.

Would you? Would you want to see him? He's not the same man that you knew. He's not your man. He's not the hero you remember. He's just a broken, tired, old man. He's a coward.

Laura gave him your address shortly after he came to his world. But he never went. He was afraid. This tiny slip of paper would keep him up at night. If the nightmares didn't get to him first than this stupid, little paper did. He debated on throwing it away.

You didn't need him. You were better off without him. But was he? You were his better half. Always had been. Just one look, a meeting. Closure. So he set off to find you one last time.

Each foot step weighs heavy as he marches to your front door. A small cabin tucked away from the the busy town only a few miles away. This is his handiwork. Logan always promised you that he'd build you a house one day, when you two were done with all the X-Men bullshit.

He had already written out the plans back before...before he lost you. Initials are carved into one of the wood boards. His fingers running over the letters, tracing them as his mind floods with memories of you.

He raises his fist and knocks at your door. His ears straining to hear you move behind the wooden door. Though if you didn't answer he couldn't blame you. He's the ghost of the man you once loved standing on your doorstep. He waits and waits and nothing.

His shoulders sag in defeat. What was he thinking? This was stupid. He takes the paper and crumbles it up in his hands, throwing it as far as he could into the woods.

"Pretty sure that's littering." He freezes at the sound of your voice. He knows it's you. He doesn't need to see your face, this voice had been haunting his nightmares for years.

"Logan?" He nearly falls to his knees. His name sounds so sweet coming from your lips. He hasn't heard it in so long. Ever so slowly he turns around, a part of him afraid this is another dream.

"Is it really you?" You're holding a grocery bag, dressed up for the cold weather. He's frozen as you walk up to him. Your eyes shine with tears as your hand reaches out for him.

"Please tell me its you." Your hand cups his face.

Thumb lightly brushing over his face. He looks different. He looks tired. So much pain behind those gorgeous eyes. He melts into your touch. He clenches his fists at his side as he leans his head into your hand.

"My love, how I've missed you." Logan opens his eyes to see the wedding band sitting on your finger. He never got the chance to give that to you.

"Sweetheart...I'm not the same man." He wishes he was. God he wishes he could sweep you up in his arms. Runaway and live in this cabin for all eternity. You smile softly. Your hand leaves his face and he visibly sinks.

"Come inside yeah?" Without thinking he takes the grocery bag out of your hands and follows you inside. There's not much inside.

"Laura told me about you, she sent letters when she came back." You explain as you reach into the fridge and pull out a beer, his favorite.

"I buy a new pack every week, in case you ever showed up." You smile when you talk but Logan can only focus on the bottle in front of him. The guilt eating him alive.

"I'm so sorry." He chokes out.

"For what?" You ask. He looks at you in disbelief, how could you be so forgiving, so welcoming.

"I'm not your husband. I-I'm not the man you fell in love with." He places the beer on the counter. If he closes his eyes he can picture you and him in this little cabin. Be the family you both always wanted. But he's not yours.

"I know you aren't. I'm not a fool Logan. But..." He's not your husband, he's different. He's not a replacement for the man you once loved but your love for Logan was stronger than anything you've ever felt.

"Would you fall in love with me again? You don't know what I've done. I'm not worthy of the love you gave to him." A tear slips down Logan's face.

He sinks to the ground, on his knees. Silently begging to be loved by you once again. The shame of his past chains him to the ground, he can't even look at you.

"What did you do my love?" You cup his face and tilt his head up.

"I lost you, I lost everyone. I can still smell your blood, I can still hear your voice calling to me. But I walked away." He grabs onto your wrists and holds onto them desperately.

"I walked away from you." You wipe away a tear that falls down his cheeks. His normally stoic face crumbles into a mess of despair and loneliness.

"I needed to numb myself. I started drinking, I started killing. I left a trail of blood in my wake." He expects you to cower away from him. To be disgusted with what he's done.

"Once I started, I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. I was so angry, so buried in my grief that the only thing I could feel was rage." The grip on your wrists is firm and tight. Not to the point of pain but he's locked around your hands. Please don't leave him again, please.

"Forgive me." You drop his face and it hangs low, ashamed of what he's revealed to you. You've been waiting for him, all this time only to come and disappoint you.

"If you think that's true, that you're not the same man I feel in love with. Then leave."

"W-What?" He's taken aback.

"You want me to leave?"

"I don't want you to leave but you keep saying you're not the same man. So if you truly believe that, than leave." Logan is stunned to silence.

"No." He says without thinking. He's spent every night missing you, thinking of you. You're here in front of him, it's not the same you but he still loves you. He will always love you.

"I can't leave you, I just found you again I...I won't." He stands up and takes your hand.

"This wedding band, I bought it after out first date. I knew, that I was in love with you but I was so scared to lose you." Tears fall down your face as he presses your hand against his face.

"I ended up losing you anyways."

"He told me that story when he proposed." You say softly. He may be from another universe but he will always be the love of your life.

"You asked if I'd fall for you again, how could I not?" He presses his forehead to yours, noses knocking together as you get to take in the man before you.

"I will always love you. I don't care how you got here, where you're from or what you've done. " You close your eyes as Logan wraps you up in his arms. Holding you close as he whispers apologies.

"No matter how long its been, you're mine." You kiss Logan fiercely, tasting the man who you've longed to hold in your arms again.

He's equally as desperate to feel you. His hands squeezing your sides gently as he walks you back until you hit the wall. Your hands run through his hair, the feeling of your wedding band in his hair only eggs him on.

Silently he thanks the universe for bringing him to you, for your forgiving, loving nature. He would have begged on his knees for a chance like this. He growls when you tug on his hair. His hand slipping up your shirt just to feel your skin. When you finally part he refuses to stay too far.

"Tell me Logan, how long as it been." Your heart aches to think of the pain he's been through. The life he's had to live without anyone to calm his self loathing thoughts.

"I can't even remember." He sounds so tired as he buries his face in your neck.

"It's okay, I'm here now."

"I love you." He whispers, a sense of relief washing over him as he utters the words he thought he'd never get to say again.

You had been waiting for him to come home and you would have waited until the day you too your last breath. He's worth it, all that waiting was worth it for you to call Logan yours.

"I love you too Logan, forever."

[sematarygirls]

GONE  GIRL.                             masterlist

if you know the whereabouts of this person, please call 911 or contact the kildare county sheriff's department at 252-290-6688

       NAV ! Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

  Community in Shock: Teen Missing in Kildare County

Boyfriend Named Person of Interest

Police and civillian search parties alike are continuing their hunt for missing teenager Y/N L/N. The girl was last seen leaving her job at the country club on July 22nd at approximately 5:30 p.m. with her boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, who has already been questioned by the police but refused to provide comment on the investigation when asked.

She was last seen wearing her work uniform: a white button-down shirt with the name of the private establishment—"The Island Club"—embroidered in gold, a black tennis skirt, a pair of disheveled converse, an "R" pendant necklace, and a diamond tennis bracelet.

"We are doing everything we can to find her," said the sheriff of the Kildare County Police Department, Susan Peterkin, when pressed for comment. "It is unclear at this time whether foul play was involved, but we are exploring all possibilities and exhausting every lead."

She also urged that anyone with any information regarding the possible whereabouts of Y/N contact the sheriff's department immediately at their official number 252-290-6688 or via the anonymous tip line.

Y/N L/N resides at 313 Lakeshore Drive in a small home that was described best as "neglected." Y/N's father refused to speak on the topic, but a neighbor shared that he and the teen allegedly had a strained relationship, the police having been called on multiple occasions for domestic disturbances. In fact, multiple neighbors expressed concern for the teen's well-being in the days and weeks leading up to her disappearance.

"Y/N had it rough at home. Those two were always going at it, fighting like cats and dogs. I can't tell you how many times the cops came knocking at my door asking about that family," the neighbor, who requested anonymity, reported. "I don't know why the cops didn't take that girl out of that house. I mean, her dad aside, just look at it! That place is one strong gust of wind from toppling over!"

Neighbors weren't the only ones with concerns about the girl. Her friends also provided comment on the situation.

"Y/N and Rafe were always together, but there were times where she seemed distant around him, like she didn't want to be there—and I don't blame her to be honest," one of Y/N's close friends, Kiara Carerra, told us when asked for comment. "I wouldn't be surprised if he did something to her. I mean, obviously, I hope nothing happened to her, but yknow..."

Another friend of Y/N and fellow pogue, JJ Maybank, also wanted to say some words. "Y/N was one of us, yknow," JJ said. "I don't know exactly what happened, but I know she would never just take off without telling us, telling me." JJ was visibly shaken while speaking about her, and when asked about the possibility of foul play being involved, he had this to say: "I don't trust him. I never have. He's a kook, one of the worst of them too. All he cares about is himself."

JJ Maybank was going to say more, but his best friend sitting nearby, John B. Routledge, cut him off. "We all just really hope this isn't as bad as it looks. We all want Y/N to come home alright."

Rafe's status as a Kook, his family affluent and prominent in the community, fueled further speculation about the relationship's dynamics as Y/N was from The Cut, the working class side of the island, and she worked multiple jobs, the two lovers from completely different worlds.

However, Rafe's father and influential real estate developer, Ward Cameron, was quick to comment on rumors of their rocky relationship and his son's potential involvement. "All of these rumors are incredibly harmful to not only our family but also the investigation. Our family is cooperating with the police as much as we can. We all want to see that young lady come home safe."

As the investigation continues and the police remain tight-lipped about the situation, residents of Kildare County are left with more questions than answers, and the community is left grappling with uncertainty and fear.

The whole island prays for Y/N to come home safe and sound, but as each hour passes, the time ticking farther and farther from when she vanished, the atmosphere grows tenser as we begin to wonder if we will get any answers as to what happened that day at all.

notes .ᐟ woah, new chapter 😏 how we feeling...

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[will-therian-angel]

Since I know ain't noone gonna ask us anything and I'm impatient I'm just gonna answer myself.

Median & regular, origins traumagenic, stressgenic and neurogenic. By regular I mean our emotion headmates (headmates that can control emotions and pop up occasionally when we feel a certain emotion, something like the movie inside out) who are fully independent people, they are neurogenic because they are caused by our disorders. Oh yeah and the tulpae but they are quiet and I don't know what they're up to. I did speak with Mr Owl and Withered Bonnie yesterday. Froggy is the most active tulpa because he makes his presence known.

Always fluctuating, cannot take note.

Cannot answer.

Little, headspace is vague and uncontrollable. Basically a mini universe.

No. Unless Mangle's extra endoskeleton head counts because they are conscious.

Unaware.

I am the original (I think) and I didn't front for a very long time so I cannot answer that.

Not really. We just form headmates without them coming with preset roles. Most emotion headmates are persecutors and aegirs.

I am unaware if there's any drama but otherwise it is a good source and I use it.

Simplyplural.

Funny question.. Serious answer though: I am trying to keep an archive of all hosts. It's gonna be hard though, if they themselves didn't know whos who, it's gonna be sure as hell hard for me. We've had at least 4/5 host switches.

No as of writing this, 3rd (?) host gave the name Weird hotel and it stuck with the 4th (?) host but once he went dormant too it didn't fit anymore. We did kinda go by another name way later but it also didn't fit anymore (NoNameCave).

All of us are nonhuman.

Not aware/unknown. Possibly. Big possibility that there are cats in the frontrooms.

I am actually an angel who was demoted into being a human.

No, unless my boyfriend is secretly a system.

The latter, yes.

No because if the body can't do it we cannot. Unless we're talking about headspace because gods know whats going on in there /lh. I'd say we are all collectively good with noticing patterns, understanding behaviour and psychology.

Being cringe is being free. Only you can decide your identity. You can be whatever you want.

About whether I'm a good person, if my experiences are valid (they are the supportive ones)

I do not understand this question. The same way?

Yes, probably more than we know of. One known is shattered Glamrock Freddy who communicated to me through dreams. He is partially verbal and very sensitive.

Bung.

No.

Yes, they keep secret mostly, by pretending we are a singlet if that's what you're asking?

We all share the same beliefs.

Host decides, the rest are advice givers however the emotion headmates fight over it sometimes.

We collectively have weird traditions and are proud.

I do have a playlist for a sideblog and Spotify favourites.

We do have art of the emotion headmates we will share later and make a page.

Facets always get along. I cannot do anything when the emotion headmates are fighting. Mood swings happen.

No.

We only as of writing know one and he is normal about the baby talk.

Newest headmate is Hedgehog from five nights with hedgehog, a russian FNaF fangame with antagonist toys. We are still not quite aware of, if there is a, storyline for the game because we do not speak russian

They do not have outside headspace hobbies.

FNaF + fangames, analogue horror.

No.

Only to a friend.

Complicated answer.

No, we find it disgraceful.

Yes

Unaware.

Asexuality.

Simplyplural.

Same.

Hard to switch from host to headmate.

No but we do have collective memory problems.

Nothing weird but Froggy co-fronted with one previous host to help beat Five nights with Froggy.

Chocolate.

We collectively have a fountain phobia.

I like scene, goth, weirdcore and vaporwave.

We have a fish and a budgie and they don't notice.

No.

Unaware.

Me. The others are already nonhuman.

Not too awkward but one previous host switched to Tangle when an old 'friend' was 'apologizing' for ignoring us.

No.

Yes, we don't /j. We deal with it by being frustrated and thinking about it a lot.

Yes. Fourth Closet Freddy was unaccepted because in source he is a killer robot.

It changes a lot.

Long system ask game!

Because it's been ages since we made one and we felt like it.

What type of system are you?

How many people are there in your system?

Do you have more introjects or non-introjects?

How much control do you have over your headspace (if you have one)?

Do you have any subsystems?

Do you have any in-system couples?

How did you discover your systemhood? Or did you become one on purpose?

How do you feel about system roles, and do you use them?

What are your thoughts on Pluralpedia?

Do you use anything to keep track of switching?

Have you ever had a change in hosts?

Do you have a system name? How did you pick it?

Do you have any nonhuman members? Feel free to list their species!

Do you have any headspace pets?

Current fronter/fronters, share some random info about you!

Do you have a partner system? How did you meet?

Have you ever mistaken a character of yours for a headmate? What about the other way around?

Does anyone have any skills that the others don't?

What's something y'all tend to agree on?

What about something you tend to disagree on?

Do symptoms of neurodivergencies/mental illness tend to manifest the same way or differently among headmates?

Do you have any syskids?

Share an in-system joke!

Has how you view your plurality changed?

If you have fictives, do they participate in their source fandom? If yes, are they open about who they are in fandom spaces?

How do you handle headmates having different spiritual beliefs?

How do you decide on major life decisions (where to live, what to study, what work to have, etc)?

Do you have any system traditons?

Current fronter, do you have your own playlist? Feel free to share it!

Do you have any art of anyone in the system? Feel free to show it off!

How do you handle it when people in the system don't get along?

Current fronter, is there anything that makes it obvious you're the one fronting? (Voice, accent, body language, typing style, etc)

If you have syskids, how do they feel about stereotypical "babby tawk"?

Share something about your newest member!

Do you tend to have collective or separate interests and hobbies?

If you have introjects, what source do you have the most from?

Are you out as plural to anyone irl?

Do you know any systems irl?

Which headmate was the biggest surprise?

Do you have a singletsona?

Do you have any collective labels?

What's the most common gender in your system?

What's the most common sexuality in your system?

What's your favorite app/website/etc for plural stuff?

Do you tend to have the same taste in food or not?

Is it hard or easy for you to switch?

Do you experience system-related amnesia?

Share something weird a headmate has done!

Current fronter, what's your favorite ice cream flavor?

Share a silly fear someone in the system has!

Current fronter, describe your aesthetic!

If you have outworld pets, do they tend to act differently around different headmates?

Has anyone ever figured out you were a system without you telling them?

When it comes to syskids, is there anyone in particular that takes care of them?

Does anyone in the system identify as otherkin, therian, or fictionkin?

Have you ever switched in an awkward moment? What happened?

Do you ever switch without realizing it?

Are you ever blurry? How do you handle it?

Has anyone ever treated an introject badly because of who their source is?

Current fronter, share a pic of your "face claim!"

[ang3ltine]

𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 + 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐜 𐙚🧸ྀི

ft. No eul (guard 11) + Se mi (player 380) separately

warnings: suggestive themes but overall fluff

author's notes: thank you guys for the support!! I'm not even a good writer, but I'm glad you guys enjoy my work ♡

𝐍𝐨 𝐞𝐮𝐥 ִֶָ࣪☾.

{Sfw}

𐙚 No eul was hesitant to date you at first, not that there was anything wrong with you specifically. She just didn't want to disappoint you as she has trouble expressing herself. But you reassured her that it was ok to open up to you. It took a while but she eventually did and you two couldn't be happier.

𐙚 You guys obviously met at the amusement park that she used worked at duh. At the time you worked as a kinder garden teacher , bringing the kids to watch the parade. You had lost one of the kids and No eul had found him for you, he was a crying mess but safe nonetheless. Wanting to repay her you suggested to take her out to lunch the next day. She refused at first but soon agreed after you kept on insisting.

𐙚 No eul is pretty protective over you, not that you need it but she feels content on keeping you by her side. Always looking out for you ,if any creepy guy tried flirting with you she'd give them a stern glare and tell them to f off. If they still persisted, que No eul dragging his ass to a dark alleyway to beat him up.

" You didn't have to go that far," you say as you frantically looked around to see if there were any witnesses. "I know , but he deserved it," she simply stated while she headed towards the direction of your shared apartment to blow off some steam.

𐙚 pda isn't really her thing unless she's really pissed at someone flirting with you that she loses her cool and would dead ass look the person in the eyes while kissing you. Other than that she likes holding your hand and giving you small pecks on your cheek/forehead throughout the day.

𐙚 Dating spots/ideas: libraries, your apartment rooftop, cute cafes or sometimes you guys would travel to the countryside.

{Nsfw}

𐙚 oh boy, she's rough and assertive during intimacy. This is mostly due to her personality but she also likes your cute reactions whenever she goes down at you. She's open to anything as long as your OK with it. Lots of bandage and maybe gunplay if she has one. But if you just wanted to go slow and gentle then she will do so.

𝐒𝐞 𝐦𝐢 ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶

{Sfw}

𐙚 Let's be honest , you fell for her first, but she fell for you harder. Se mi's the one who asked you out first cause she found you cute and endearing, something that she's needs in her dull life.

𐙚 A group of gangsters who tried stealing from you which Se mi had noticed when she went by with her motorbike (yes she owns one its canon yall). She stepped in to save you and they ended up in a dumpster. That day was the day you felt a small spark between you both and Se mi felt it too.

𐙚 Omg you guys would definitely go to the nearest animal shelter and adopt a black female kitty. Her name would be Noir cause why not, also she reminds you so much of Se mi. The way the both act and look so similar baffled you but you didn't complain.

𐙚 Se mi would occasionally bring you bouquets of your favourite flowers and would gift you small presents/trinkets that remind her of you. One time she bought you her perfume that she wears so you would smell of her while she was away. Or you'd just steal her clothes (she smells of cherries/smoke).

𐙚 Big fan of pda, she'd have her hands all over you. Whether it was holding your waist/hand or resting her arm over your shoulder, bringing you into her chest. Totally would be smug about it whenever she'd see how flustered you were. If you didn't like pda then she would respect your opinion and stick with just holding your hand.

Dating spots/ideas: motorbike rides. I repeat motorbike ridess. Y'all would deffo be freaky on the bike but you didn't hear that from me. Beach dates, music festivals/concerts, funfairs and rides around the city. If Se mi wasn't broke then she'd take you to fancy restaurants, because you deserve all her love.

{Nsfw}

𐙚 Lordd, she's amazing in bed. Literally knows how to make you come undone with just her tongue and fingers. Would definitely lock eyes with you the whole time she's eating you out. She'd make you have eye contact with hers the whole time otherwise she won't let you cum. Has all sorts of toys to test on you and a special black dildo just for you. Shes never really gotten to this point with other partners so consider yourself lucky. Omg the piercing would just turn you on even more like hello?? She'd use it to her advantage.

"You slut, look at me not the ceiling" she'd drawled, making you whine and forced yourself to look back down at her. She had that damn smirk on her lips while she trusted her fingers into you hitting the right spot , making you squirt all over her face.

Ps. Let me if you guys want more hc's and send more requests if you like my work <3 also like, reblog or follow if you like my content ♡