#and their disgusting little gestures

[tiarpopdind]

Physical touch

[flwrkid14]

Tim never liked Valentine’s Day.

It always felt forced—commercialized declarations of love that meant less when prompted by a date on the calendar. It wasn’t romantic; it was obligation wrapped in pink and red cellophane, a day where people felt pressured to prove something that should have been obvious the other 364 days of the year.

He never cared for it. Never wanted to be part of it.

But then there's Danny.

Danny, who doesn’t buy into the spectacle of it either, but still tucks a little heart-shaped sticky note into Tim’s work files with an awful pun written in glowing green ink. Danny, who kisses Tim’s forehead in greeting on February 14th like he does every other day, no extra flair, no extra expectation—just love, unprompted, unforced. Danny, who drags Tim out of the Cave at midnight because it doesn’t matter what day it is, you need fresh air and food that isn’t caffeine, you absolute gremlin.

Tim never liked Valentine’s Day, but he likes the way Danny laughs when Tim kisses him slow, steady, deliberate. He likes the way Danny’s hands settle on his waist like he has nowhere else to be. He likes the way Danny tilts his head after they part, looking at Tim like he’s something worth keeping.

Maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t about the big gestures. Maybe it’s just about the small moments that no one else will notice.

Tim can live with that.

[psychoticcunt]

Torn between wanting to make it abundantly clear that I won't tolerate strangers flirting at me and wanting to know if I'm desirable when uncomfortable; see how far you can push my boundaries before I dissociate to get away from you or get so frustrated that I crack. My self preservation instincts forever waxing and waning and my lack of respect for myself is exploitable.

[incendiorum]

I wish I could put you all in my head for like 5 minutes so you can absorb all of my thoughts and feelings on iovita's gender and then I could pull you back out and we could both nod and shake hands

[happy74827]

Say Yes to Heaven

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.

WC: 3690

Category: Fluff, First Kiss, Logan’s POV

Another Grumpy!Logan x Sunshine!Reader because it’s my comfort trope ✨🫶

『••✎••』

He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.

It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.

He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.

Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.

"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"

That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.

And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.

The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.

The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.

He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.

You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.

It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.

But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.

Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.

His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

It wasn't disgust.

He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.

Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.

Whoops.

So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.

He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.

It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.

It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.

He froze for a second.

You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.

Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.

But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.

Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.

The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.

He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.

His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.

3:02 am.

You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?

He looked back at the sink.

You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.

It would be worth it, right? Just for that?

3:04 am

He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.

He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.

3:13 am

He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.

He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.

You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.

You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.

He had a feeling it would.

You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.

You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"

Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.

You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?

Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.

He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.

His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.

You. That was all.

But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.

His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.

He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.

Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.

His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.

His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.

He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.

The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.

His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.

It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.

He was afraid to let go.

He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.

You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.

How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?

Too long.

Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.

He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.

Your voice reached his ears.

"Logan, did something happen?"

He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.

Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.

He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.

"Logan?"

It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.

"I-"

He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.

But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.

That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.

"What happened?"

You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.

But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.

"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"

It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.

He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?

You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.

Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.

Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?

"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."

And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.

"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."

You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.

"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."

You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.

"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"

His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.

You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.

"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."

A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.

Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.

The one reserved for him and him only.

Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.

You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.

"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"

And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.

So, instead, he moved.

He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.

You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.

You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.

And he stared back.

He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.

He couldn't give you anything.

He had nothing.

There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.

His claws, too, if that counted for anything.

But, besides those, there was nothing.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.

Which is why he had no intention of trying.

Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.

One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.

"Logan."

You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.

Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.

The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.

It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.

He wanted you so badly.

And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.

He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.

And it wasn't the first time you did so.

There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.

He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.

Trying to find some meaning in his life.

But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.

"Are you sure?"

Because you were so much better than him.

Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.

It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.

It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.

He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.

"Hi, Logan!"

You would say.

"Good morning!"

You would wave.

"Have a nice day, Logan."

You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.

Much purer. Much more innocent.

You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.

It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.

He didn't want to ruin you.

"Yes."

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.

But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.

With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.

In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.

And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.

You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.

The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.

He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.

Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.

"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."

Teasing. That was a new one for you.

He liked it.

"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."

"Logan."

For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.

But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.

He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.

He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.

Like heaven.

He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.

Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.

He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.

Too focused on the taste of your mouth.

Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.

He was too distracted to care.

He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.

He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.

And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.

If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.

He should've taken the chance.

It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.

But it didn't matter. He was here now.

And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:

It doesn't matter.

As long as I’m here.

As long as you’re in my arms.

It doesn't matter.

Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.

But, for now, he could live with that.

He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.

Because he sure as fuck didn’t.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Alt Rock to the Rescue

[Inspired by this art]

"...Alright, I might have an idea," John Constantine, who was seemingly busy texting someone for the past ten - or twenty, no one really counted - minutes, puts his phone away and snaps his head up.

The room falls silent. Superman blinks in surprise, Diana frowns slightly, and Batman's mouth is pressed into a thin, stubborn line. Flash recovers first.

"You have an idea?" He huffs a short, disbelieving laugh, "No offense, but I'm not sure a magic trick can help us against, you know, an alien fleet." He gestures to one of the screens on the wall, where said fleet is approaching Earth on live.

The rest of the Leaguers present don't exactly agree with him, at least not verbally, but the mood in the room shifts from tense, anxious alarm to an almost palpable annoyance. To be honest, no one was even sure why or how John Constantine of all people ended up in the meeting. It's not like JLD could actually help with an ongoing, massive invasion that was about to happen in less than three- Correction, less than two and a half hours. Besides, it's John Constantine. The man that never shows up unless outright bullied into submission.

The magician winces briefly and starts rummaging through his pockets under the weight of everyone's attention.

"I said I might," he amends gruffly, getting a cigarette out of one of his pockets and sticking it in his mouth but not lighting it. Seems like it wasn't what he was looking for, though, because after that, the man keeps going through the various places on his coat, patting himself down. "I know someone who can deal with it. Granted, I already owe him a great deal, but he won't say no," he pauses and grimaces, "At least I hope he won't."

"I do not think it would be wise to call upon gods in our situation," Diana tries carefully, but John pays her little mind.

"Or demons," Green Arrow adds, crossing his arms on his chest, "I'm not selling my soul to get rid of some rocket ships or whatever they are."

Now, that makes the magician bark a laugh. Or, maybe it's the piece of lime green paper - a sticky note, actually - that he finally finds in the depths of his pockets.

"Oh, your soul's gonna stay where it is."

"Constantine-" Batman starts, but John cuts him off instantly.

"Mine will stay wherever it is as well," he reassures the man, "It's not that kind of entity." And with that, he promptly sets the green note on fire - green fire - and uses it as a lighter for his cigarette.

The next moment after the note is reduced to ash, there's a shift in the air in front of him, and, before any of the heroes have a split second to react, there are two people floating in the middle of the room, backs pressed to each other.

Two teenagers, to be exact. A girl and a boy, both of them so pale that their skin looks gray, and both dressed in grunge, like they just came from a rock concert. Yet, that's where the 'normal' parts of their looks end - the boy's hair is so white it looks blinding, and moves in the air slowly, undeterred by gravity, and the girl's hair is neon blue, her ponytail flickering up like a flaming torch.

The boy nearly topples over as the girl leans her back on him harder and kicks her feet up slightly. The movement is awkward, like both of them were taken by surprise by the sudden relocation, and maybe the guess about the rock concert was not so far from reality; there are drumsticks in the boy's hands, and the girl is holding an electric guitar in her hands.

"The fuck?.." The boy asks no one in particular, as the girl makes an annoyed groan and straightens up, still floating in the air. Her guitar makes an aborted sound. Meanwhile, the boy's eyes land on Constantine, and his whole face scrunches in disgust, "John, for the love of Ancients, I was in the middle of something."

The girl takes a look around while her friend is busy expressing his annoyance and elbows him in the side, "Oi, look, it's the whole Comic Con in the flesh here."

Green Arrow sputters. Flash makes a wordless but very offended sound. The floating boy looks around, taking stock of faces in the room, and the disgust on his face morphs into exasperation.

He turns back to Constantine, "Really? I thought I told you I want no part in your furry parade."

"Alien invasion," the magician decidedly doesn't address any of that, instead pointing his finger to the screen behind him. "Thought you ought to know," he adds, a bit of sarcasm bleeding into his tone.

"Ooh, is it my turn to be your world saving buddy, Phantom?" The girl perks up, turning around and draping herself over the boy's shoulders with a giddy laugh. Her guitar shifts to hang in the air on her side all by itself.

The boy - Phantom - rolls his eyes. Bright green, glowing eyes that definitely don't belong to a human being.

"If I had a nickel every time I had to save the world, I'd probably be able to buy myself my own guitar," he grumbles and looks back to Constantine. "Do I, like, have to? Right now? You know, I don't get paid for this bullshit, and the studio we rented for rehearsal has an hourly rate, so if we can postpone this for about an hour and a half, that'd be real nice."

"The fleet is only two hours away from Earth," Batman supplies suddenly, and, when both floating kids turn to look at him, adds, "I can pay for your next rehearsal. Or a few of them." Evidently, Phantom's comment about nickels struck a nerve. Or, maybe, the man just likes throwing money at any teenager he encounters. Who knows.

The boy blinks, taken aback by the proposition. But the girl grins, sharp and wicked, and shoves her drummer - if the drumsticks are to tell - in the side again.

"Hey, free studio. Better than the last time."

That snaps Phantom out of his stupor, and he groans, "Don't remind me." With a weary sigh, he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in the air, almost like reclining on it. "Okay, fine, sure. Do you want them, like, away from Earth- um, this is Earth, right?" He turns to Superman, surprisingly, looking for confirmation, and the man nods, thrown off guard. The boy nods back and continues, "Or you want them blasted into oblivion, or what?"

"Whatever suits your mood, kid," John waves his hand at the screen as if making a welcoming gesture, "But all the aliens gotta go."

Unexpectedly, that makes the girl's grin even wider, and she reaches for her guitar, floating around Phantom and looking him in the face. The look she gives him speaks of mischief, and the boy seems to understand what she's implying before she as much as opens her mouth.

"Ember, no," he pounts a drumstick at her.

"Ember, yes," she wiggles her eyebrows, "Come on, your wail is boring as fuck as it is, why not spice it up?"

"I'm not wailing," Phantom scrunches his nose, "My throat will hurt for weeks."

Ember runs her fingers over the strings of her guitar, and it makes a comparatively quiet, vibrating sound. A few cords shoot out of the bottom of her instrument, like ones used to plug an electric guitar to an amp. She raises her eyebrows, still looking at Phantom, a silent conversation between them.

Then, the boy huffs and rolls his eyes, twirling a drumstick in his fingers.

"Fine."

The cords fly at him like snakes, aiming at his neck. None of the Leaguers watching the encounter get to say even a word as the metal pins insert themselves into the boy's neck, acting like some twisted kind of collar. Phantom doesn't even flinch.

Ember's guitar, on the other hand, reacts to the connection quite violently: it makes a high-pitched sound all on its own and then changes color from black and blue to white and green, with lightning bolts instead of flames for design. The girl's ponytail flares up higher as she softly murmurs in delight.

Then, she turns to the people around them and smirks, "Which way is the evil alien fleet?"

Flash wordlessly points his finger to the right and up. The girl nods in satisfaction, turning in the air so her guitar is facing that way.

"You might want to cover your ears," Phantom advises, a sly smile on his face and a glimmer of anticipation to his eyes. John Constantine follows that direction immediately, and, taking his move as the best course of action, the other heroes follow as well. Except Batman, who only narrows his eyes and looks at both teens in the air apprehensively. Phantom shrugs, "Or don't, I don't hold any responsibility for your shattered eardrums."

"Pick up where we left off, then," Ember tells him, and the boy blinks:

"Wait, I thought you'd just-"

[For some wholesome experience, put your headphones in and listen to 'KULT' by Jisaiah, grandson, and Steve Aoki]

But the girl has already started a tune, nodding her head to the rhythm of it and slowly picking up the pace. Phantom huffs, but doesn't protest any further, floating up as much as the cords allow him and spinning a drumstick in his hand.

"Maybe I should join a cult

At least they'll tell me it's not my fault

That the world's a fucking circus

That my life feels fucking worthless," he spits the words out with a sneer, slowly rotating in the air until he is hanging upside down. His eyes are closed, and his voice becomes more and more staticky with every new sound. The volume of Ember's guitar gets up, higher and higher, until the walls and the floor of the room around them start to vibrate.

Then, Ember's voice joins Phantom's, and the boy brings his drumsticks down on thin air, mimicking the moves. Only, even with the actual drums not there, the air around him ripples like they are, and they all can hear the beat.

"Maybe I should join a cult

At least they'll tell me it's not my fault

When it all comes crashing down

We'll see who's laughing," both kids pause, just for a beat, and Ember uses that split second to spin the volume knob to the max before strumming her guitar in one wide, sharp move.

"NOW!"

The sound wave is not only palpable, it's visible. A wave of toxic green ripples through the air, knocking everyone present - sans the two kids in the air - to the ground, and goes beyond. The screens on the walls flicker and turn off, sending sparks in the air, and the comms give off loud, screeching noises, and-

The following silence feels almost deafening.

Batman, unsurprisingly, is the first one to stand back on his feet and see a few of the screens come back online.

Just in time to see that same green wave of... sound? energy? power?.. decimate the entire fleet like a wet cloth over a chalkboard. One moment, the spaceships were there, and the next they are gone, wiped out of existence.

Ember laughs, leaning back and almost doing a backflip in the air.

"That was nice, dipshit!" She shoves Phantom in the shoulder, and the boy snorts, plucking the cords out of his skin and grinning.

"Yeah," he agrees with a smile, not even looking at the screens around, "Maybe we should try rehearsing in space next time. Sing to the stars and all that crap."

"Sing to the stars?" Ember raises her eyebrows mockingly as the rest of the heroes scramble to their feet, bemoaning their ringing ears. "Na-ah," she clicks her tongue and turns to Batman, "You still up for paying for our studio?"

The man just grunts in a semblance of affirmation.

"Sweet," the girl grins and offers Phantom a hand for a high five, which he returns instantly. "Cheers to the world being saved once again!"

The boy just rolls his eyes and turns to Constantine, "Next time, be a dear and text me before summoning, or I'm going to sell your soul to Morpheus, and who knows what he'll do with you."

John Constantine grimaces. "I did," he offers grudgingly.

But both unearthly teenagers are already gone without a trace.

[Edit: I want everyone to know there's ART now!!!]

[Edit 2: There's more art!!!]

[homunculus-argument]

I would not say that I'm a scary-looking guy. I don't dress particularly alt, just pretty basic dad rock band tees, black skinny jeans with a chain, plenty of assorted jewellery and accessories, dyed black hair and seven piercings around my head, but this is apparently enough to make old people give me A Very Long Stare. But this post isn't about them.

Today I was walking homeward, and there were these two kids (about 8-10 years old?) standing in the middle of the road. They stood there talking, one was on foot but the other one had a pastel pink bicycle, which she had apparently unintentionally stationed horizontally across the walkpath, so the two effectively blocked the whole way. So I kept my eyes on the girl with the bike the whole time I approached their happenstance roadblock.

Now, the finnish culture is both a high context culture and an introvert culture, which means that finns regularly behave like weird animals. A prolonged, maintained eye contact directed at a stranger is a mild, but certainly clear, aggressive gesture. Not as outright hostile as verbally telling them that they're in peoples' way and should move, but intended as a stern gesture to correct them anyhow. The way that dogs sometimes do that very specific low growl at misbehaving puppies, just to say "I have no intention to hurt you, but you better cut that shit out."

And the girl with the bike kept eye contact with me the whole time I approached, while pulling her bike out of the way in a pointedly slow, deliberate way. Looking down or away and moving the bike hastily would have been an apologetic gesture, and this kid clearly wanted to let me know she wasn't yielding just because she did, in fact, move out of the way. And once I was just about to pass, she said "hi?" to me, in a mildly confused and disgusted tone. Not confused by my intentions themselves, but by my evident audacity.

While this may not seem like anything odd, as I mentioned earlier, finns are an introvert culture. Talking to strangers unprompted is rude, a downright hostile act, more aggressive than prolonged eye contact but not as hostile as physically touching a stranger without warning. And I was caught off-guard so badly that I just said "hi" back to her while not slowing down as I passed them.

So just this week, I've had two random old people stare at me like they've correctly identified me as a Manmade Horror Beyond Their Comprehension, and this little girl dressed head to toe in pastels with a pink bike and sparkling unicorn backpack just glared right back at me and stared me down like Can I Fucking Help You.

[ozzgin]

Is it weird I kinda want a monster Incel? Like he believes all humans are supposed to be a certain way but then they meet the first human and are initially disillusioned/upset but over time begin to regret their actions after falling in love and seeing humans as more than really hot porn/pictures online

content: gender neutral reader, NSFW

I'm thinking of a monster incel who is deeply envious and frustrated because he thinks humans only like conventionally attractive monsters.

He reads the comments from the human world with a resentful frown. "Of course he's hot," he grunts, eyeing the rather tasteful sketch of a tall, muscular orc. He turns to the mirror for comparison: multiple limbs, tendrils, a gargantuan body of darkness and blight. He doesn't have abs, nor a handsomely pale complexion and chiseled jaw. He is but an abstract aberration, a crooked ghoul.

It only makes sense that when he encounters you, his yearning and curiosity are swiftly replaced by anger. Give it a moment to fully process his existence, and you'll be disappointed, perhaps frightened. Maybe even disgusted.

He might as well get something out of this unplanned affair. With instinctual greed, he pins you to the ground, taking in your scent. His heart throbs with anticipation. How will you react once he's deep inside you, thrusting relentlessly and with sheer indifference to your protests? His razor-sharp teeth clamp together in seething jealousy; he can almost hear your sobs, feel your little fingers clawing around his hideous body, trying to escape. Of course, he's not the kind of monster you wanted. He's not-

Underneath his heaving chest, your small human form lays limp. He considers whether you've already given up and accepted your fate, when he notices the perverted grin spread across your face. It seems he never considered the possibility of a true monster fucker.

"Well? What're you staring for," you say with impatience, gesturing for the beast to hurry up and fuck you already.

Is it too late to ask you out on a proper date?

[awakebutstillinbedd]

pervert!markgrayson x fem!reader

cw: stalking, masturbation, perverting.

a/n: mark is super nasty in this one and i could’ve written more but i didn’t wanna gross yall out <3

mark would always get turned on by nearly everything you did. whether it was the small windows of skin whenever you wore jeans with the smallest rips or the way you spoke to him with such kindness, he always went home and got off to it. you could hit him on his back with the utmost force and he would still be biting his lip. even when you were out with your friends in a dress that seemed even a little too skimpy he would fly over in secret to see you in it in person. you never knew he was there though.

he always had something for you, but forever he figured you saw him as dorky and uncool. the both of you weren’t exactly friends, but more like acquaintances. it ate at him every night, especially when he fought his urges not to spy on you in your bedroom like a creep. there’s so many things wrong with this but one unforgiving night he finds himself floating at your window and peeking in on you getting dressed. of course he knows the right thing to do is go home but is that what he wants to do?

mark is bewildered at the sight of your bare skin. you’ve got him covering his face in embarrassment for even looking. like the pervert he is, he peeks through his fingers to look at you once more. if you can believe it, he’s using every bone in his body not to palm at his tightening pants. the leaky beads of pre cum made a wet spot develop in his pants, mark felt disgusting but he really couldn’t help it. the poor thing. his breath hitched as he abandoned his thoughts and began palming at the bulge in his pants, you’re all he thought about. he couldn’t even cum if he wasn’t thinking about you.

somehow, he never gets caught. he flies off before you turn around to look out of your window like you always do every night.

mark lays in his bed, his thoughts going crazy with the bulge in his pants now freed. his cock twitches aggressively and it’s all for you, he might’ve even stolen a pair of your panties while you weren’t home. he held it up to his nose, feeling on the cotton as he wrapped his hand around the base of his cock. every time he did this he always whimpered your name in sweet short breaths, he was so sensitive, so inexperienced but he forever wishes his hand was your mouth.

it even getting to the point he came in the same pair he stole from you over and over again. sure he washed it, but whenever he finished he thought about how he would love for it to be either in you or all over you. whenever he teased his tip, thinking about you talking him through his orgasm he felt so so dirty but thats the thrill and he knew that more than anybody.

small gestures like you getting him something small to eat just because he was at your job. of course he wouldn’t just come there for you, he was super hungry!—is what he always told himself. getting turned on seeing you at work, so independent. you always took charge as well, he just wished you’d take charge of him and publicly humiliate him

oh what brave decision mark makes to invite you over to his house to study for your finals. with you sitting on his bed he couldn’t help himself, you were in his room and on his bed. it felt like a dream come true for him, you never suspected that he stole your undergarments or had a shoebox full of pictures of you in his closet. he kept all of this under wraps, he always pretended he wasn’t dying to dry hump the spot you were sitting at on his bed but he always ends up doing it. so, so warm and it smelled exactly like you, if this was the closest he would ever get to having his cock anywhere near you he would absolutely take that chance.

mark whimpers your name constantly when he masturbates. pumping his cock to a regular picture of you while humping that spot on his bed.

“f-fuck..”

he couldn’t help but bite his fist every time he came thinking about you, to the point his fist was bloody. he was just a boy is what you told yourself, and him always wanting to talk to you was just that grayson charm! you never knew anything he was doing and he wasn’t planning on telling you.

within a few months you guys are actually friends, he somehow doesn’t fuck it up. you guys are regularly going out to eat and hanging out. everything is great but his obsession had only gotten worse. your actual clothes end up going missing every single time you leave the house, he stole shirts, pants, hoodies and even your toothbrush. when you’re on the phone with him telling him about your problems he’s on the other end palming at his bulge.

mark suddenly pauses when you talk about your clothes going missing and even a toothbrush. he stammers over the phone

“oh yeah that’s..really really weird!”

he’s such a fake, it kills him whenever you even talk to him about anything that might’ve gone missing because he knows it was him. he had never done or been like this with any other girl but you? you really made him act like a fucking dog every time you even crossed his mind.

mark would even watch you sleep sometimes. standing over you in your room, admiring how you looked unconscious. the one time he was pure was this, he didn’t touch you or even masturbate over you he just observed. staring, nearly drooling at the sight of your bare shoulder when your shirt slipped off of it. he really couldn’t control himself when he saw your brows scrunch and you started groaning in your sleep, he could see the pleasure of whatever you were dreaming about (hoping it was him) forming a wet dark spot on your panties. if you can believe it, he took a deep breath and quickly left out of your window. this unhealthy obsession had been going on for nearly 2 years and you were completely oblivious.

hes SO not a creep, he just loves you so much

part 2

[screampied]

“tch, what are you doing.”

“hugging you.”

“i’m not stupid. why are you hugging me,”

sukuna grouses, his entire vast frame growing stiff. it was always like this with you. every few seconds, you’d be talking to him about literally anything and out of nowhere, your human arms just wrap around his waist. the demon stands still with the most repulsed poker-face, yet he doesn’t attempt to pry you off. for whatever reason, your warmth was surprisingly .. comfortable. you’ve got the cutest smile contorting against your features. burying your face into the center of his chest, the demon sighs, flicking your forehead. “oi brat, i asked you a question.”

playfully wincing at his gesture — you have a tiny pout. “you looked like you could use one,” and your arms briefly tighten around his slim torso. “also, usually when someone’s hugging you, you’re required to hug the other person b-”

“don’t tell me what to do,” and you gasp, feeling strong arms pull you in close. with an oof, you land right into his soft padded chest. your cheek tenderly rubs against the various ancient markings that paint and decorate his skin. the ‘hug’ only lasts for about three seconds before he pulls away, pretending to feel ill. a mere drama king. “disgusting. got me participating in such a revolting, humanly act. think ‘m gonna be sick.”

“oh, don’t be dramatic,” you tease, leaning into his touch. you’re met with a crimson-red glare but you could spot the vague pout forming against his lips if you squinted. out of all the pesky humans he’s encountered, no one was ever tolerable or worthy for his attention.

no one except . . . you.

a simple gesture as hugging makes him feel mushy ‘n soft inside and he hates it. loathes it, that dumb carefree grin that cheeses against your lips, the cute glimmer sparkling in your eyes. so irritating, so . . adorable.

as you rest your chin against his chest, you let off a tiny huff. “do demons not hug each other?”

“not in this way,” he murmurs, feeling an awkward lump brew in his throat. sukuna’s eyes suddenly avoid yours and you grow curious. not only that, but his body language changes. your softness was making him nervous.

he swears a plethora of inaudible curses under his breath, remaining rigidly stiff and refuses to move his beefy arms another itch. your arms wrap around him again and a huffing sigh makes his tense shoulder lower. with a grumpy grunt, his eye twitches and a single fang bares below his top lip, a sign of cute stubborn annoyance. “ack, you’re squishing me, human. release me at once.”

your chin swiftly rubs against the soft fabric that made up his personalized kimono before deadpanning. “not until you hug me back.”

“i am hugging you back.”

“no you’re not,” you giggle, burying your face inside between the opening slit of his clothing piece. his body heat tepidly radiates against you and you’re engulfed with his loud natural scent. the demon’s almost always naturally warm, your personal heating pad. he shoots you a vexing glare, nostrils flaring up in exasperation before his arms awkwardly pull you closer. “hey, not s- so tight, ‘kuna.”

“now you wanna complain? you’re gonna take this hug,” and you giggle, feeling him gingerly shove you into his broad chest, squeezing you tight.

sukuna sassily rolls his eyes at the audacity,

he’s never been one to participate in such ludicrous, but if it was with you, maybe it wasn’t that bad. sukuna stares down at you, a weird soft feeling pooling its way into his heart — after a while, he unwraps his arms from your body, ruffling your hair. “stupid.”

with a cheeky grin, you wrap your arms right back around his torso, nuzzling against his chest like you were a kitten. with a gruff groan, his arms suddenly mirror you, slinging around your waist, pulling you close tightly. how annoying, he’s starting to enjoy this little thing called ‘hugging.’

sukuna slowly adapts to the warmth of your body against him, a faint smile creeping on his face at your next adoring words. “love you ‘kuna.”

“you’re gonna experience a deadly cough in five days, brat.”

“huh?”

“hmph. i said . . i love you too.”

[outtamynoggin]

Dick, at a family dinner: -and THEN the cheese in the fondue started spinning like crazy because he used the wrong kind of cheese, HAHAHAHAHA! I mean, it was basically string cheese. And the fondue spinner was going so fast it started levitating off the table!! So now this giant cheese tentacle is just whipping around, slapping people in the face, knocking over wine glasses, and the guy just SCREAMS and dives under the table like-

Batfam: *between laughing and annoyed*

Jason: I refuse to believe this happened. This isn’t fair, how could this happen without me there?!

Tim: PLEASE tell me this happened at a high-profile gala. Please, please, please.

Damian: *arms crossed, looking disgusted* Only you could witness a culinary disaster and recount it like a battle strategy.

Dick, sticking his tongue out at him: You’re just jealous you weren’t there to see it in person, little D.

-

Dick, in his head: The Marcalone family made a deal with the Sarvanos so they’re both going to be at the harbor on the 14th at 1AM. Julian Viscan knows about this deal because his thugs caught wind of it but he decided to stay out because he’s dealing with Bella Cane after she started a riot on his territory so she can get her hands on the shipment. But I can take out both the Marcalones, Saravnos, Viscan AND Eli Smith, the gun dealer, if I move Viscan to interfere with the shipment on the 14th. Cane's also making moves on Smirth's supply chain while troubling Viscan, which means if I pull Viscan into the fray, I can collapse all four of them in one night. But I need to make sure Vsican thinks Smith's going to betray him to do this.

Dick, to the batfam: *gesturing wildly, eyes laughing* So then, the cheese tentacle just SLAPS this guy's glasses right off his face and he screams and then he starts screaming even louder that he's going to start suing EvErYtHiNg-

Dick: If I remember, Viscan's sister works at Smith&Hopkins Inc so if I mess around with the BPD and get them involved with the company, I can control all 4 of them while causing trouble for-

[hoshifighting]

WARNINGS: idol!reader getting injured (arm), accident mention, smut, fingering, oral (f. &m. rec), ovulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, handjob, attentive sex? (due to reader's injury), dirty talk.

staff!seungcheol who’s got that severe look, eyes attached to every inch of you like he’s memorizing it. he’s standing close, flashlight in hand, checking every damn speck of glitter on your face like he’s planning on personally suing each one that doesn’t sparkle just right. like you're some kind of precious artifact he needs to make sure is flawless. there’s this faint crease between his brows as he leans in, like he’s got a checklist of your entire existence in his mind, murmuring “lemme see, hold still,” like you’re the one shifting around with his hands practically cupping your face. the makeup artist’s just nervously holding her breath in the background.

doesn’t even flinch when he sees the tiny smudge, just calmly points it out while you try not to roll your eyes. “needs fixing,” he says, stepping back only when he’s satisfied, waving the makeup artist over with a quick hand gesture.

“alright, open up,” then there’s staff!seungcheol who’s already one step ahead, holding up that tiny spray bottle of propolis like it’s the holy grail of vocal cords. he gives you a knowing look as you open your mouth for him to spray it down your throat. “don’t choke on it this time,” he says, like you didn’t just cough last night but committed a fucking crime. the spray hits your throat, sharp and herbal, and you pull a disgusted face.

“that’s awful, seungcheol,” you croak, trying to rub it off your tongue.

“and it works,” he fires back, deadpan, already watching you like you’re gonna start talking back too loud. but there’s this smirk tugging at the edge of his lips, like he’s clocking the way you’re fussing.

staff!seungcheol who’s already got a scrunchie on his wrist just for you, flicking it like a badge of honor when the fashion team rushes in, hands full of fabric and pins. “back up,” he tells them, waving them off like some sort of bodyguard-turned-stylist. he steps in, gathering your hair up with this weirdly gentle touch, pulling it back like he’s done this a million times. and he has. you’re used to the low murmur of his voice, saying stuff like “look down,” or “tilt your head,” pulling your hair back as you rip off one outfit, practically wrestling yourself into another.

and yeah, he's seen it all, seen you stripped down to a bunch of mismatched pieces of clothes, practically naked with pins and sequins scattered around. he’s the only one who gets to stay in the room when it’s time to swap outfits, hands moving steady over zippers and hooks without batting an eye. he’s too professional for that.

but sometimes you’ll catch the way his eyes flash, quick as anything, over your bare shoulder, the curve of your waist, or the bend of yourback. lingering just a second too long before he’s tugging fabric back over you. “hold your arms up,” he says, voice so steady it’s almost annoying, but there’s this barely-there flush on his face, one he probably thinks you don’t notice. only once you're decent does he call in the fashion team again, his hand lingering on your shoulder just a second longer, like some silent encouragement.

“think i’ll survive tonight, boss?” you shoot over your shoulder as he tightens up a corset, his fingers brushing your back.

“if you can keep that mouth of yours shut for two minutes, maybe,” he mutters, yanking the laces just a little too tight.

staff!seungcheol who seems to have every little detail about you learned by heart, right down to the shade of foundation that works best under stage lights and the exact temperature of water you like before singing. he’s like a walking encyclopedia on “you,” this intense manager who somehow knows you better than you know yourself some days. it’s kinda crazy when you think about it—how much attention he puts into the smallest things, like checking your posture right before you step onto the stage, brushing an imaginary dust speck off your shoulder, or even noticing when you’re tired just from a tiny slump in your stance. there’s this wild, almost comforting feeling in knowing someone’s watching that close, picking up on what you need before you even have to say it.

staff!seungcheol who doesn’t just care about the professional side of things but pays attention to you as a whole person. you’ll be pacing before a show, a mess of nerves, and he’ll pull you aside, hands firm on your shoulders, telling you to breathe, to ground yourself. “hey, it’s just one show out of many,” he’ll say, like he’s reminding you that this isn’t the end of the world. sometimes, he’ll even pull out a joke, something random to get you out of your head, his voice warm, more calming than he probably even realizes.

staff!seungcheol who’s a human wall when it comes to fans or any kind of chaos. he’s got this built-in radar for spotting trouble in a crowd, and the way he just moves through people, ushering you along like he’s a bodyguard instead of just your manager—it’s unreal. you know the crew’s got security, but it’s always him who stands closest, always him who angles himself slightly in front of you, making sure nothing gets in the way. he’s not overbearing, either; it’s this subtle, constant thing, like he’s built to be in tune with you and the space around you.

and it’s not just the big stuff. like, he’s a fiend about the little things, too. if he sees you adjusting your outfit or tugging at your sleeves, he’s immediately there, straightening the hem or re-pinning a loose detail. he’s the kind of guy who’ll silently hand you a tissue if he sees a tiny smudge of lipstick on your teeth, or he’ll have that emergency stain remover in his pocket just in case you spill something on your outfit last-minute.

staff!seungcheol who somehow makes you feel both overprotected and ridiculously independent. he’s right there if you mess up, catching you before you can fall—literally and metaphorically. he’ll laugh about it after the fact, maybe make some quip about how you owe him for always “saving your ass,” but in the moment, he’s solid as hell, totally serious. it’s like he lives for making sure everything in your world runs smoothly, yet he’s always subtly pushing you to handle things yourself, too.

then, there’s the crazy amount of trust he has in you, even though he’s like the over-prepared captain of the team. like, he’ll go through the checklist with everyone—makeup, wardrobe, lighting, sound—and he’s triple-checked it all, down to the damn microphone battery. but when it comes time for you to perform, he just gives you this look that says he knows you’re gonna kill it, and in that weir silence, it’s like he’s handing everything over, telling you without words, “i’ve got the logistics; you just be you.”

staff!seungcheol who, when you’re touring his hometown, suddenly seems way more focused on making sure you’re comfy than anything else—an entire list prepared, of all the places he wants to show you. but first, there’s the “family dinner” situation. he’s practically droning with nerves as he introduces you to his family, calling you his boss, and you’re just gritting your teeth, whispering to him with a grin, “seungcheol, quit it—i told you, just my name.” he just smirks, playing it off, even if it’s clear he’s a little embarrassed, especially when his mom starts calling him out on every little thing he used to do as a kid.

staff!seungcheol who, thanks to your fans, has become practically famous on his own. every time you two walk through an airport, you can hear them calling his name, practically chanting it at this point, pointing out “the hot manager.” and there he is, looking away, rubbing his neck or practically burying his face into your shoulder

he’ll tug at your sleeve like a kid hiding behind their mom, he gets especially flustered when you turn it on him, all smug, saying, “y’know, i must be the luckiest one here, getting to have a handsome manager like you walking me around.” he rolls his eyes, a rare laugh slipping out as he mutters something sarcastic, trying so hard to brush it off, but you know he secretly loves it, the tips of his ears going pink.

and it’s not just for show. once you’re on your off time after a show, seungcheol’s literally all over the place, making sure you don’t lift a finger. he’s there, picking up menus, already knowing what you’ll want and what to skip (yes olives or goodbye olives). he’s at the counter, practically fighting to swipe your card before you can even think about it. it’s like he’s taken the whole “manager” title to heart, as if your well-being is his full-time mission.

he’s got this sixth sense for how you’re feeling too. the second you’re showing signs of exhaustion, he’s hunting for a place to sit, guiding you to a cozy bench or a shady spot under a tree like he’s found the red dot on a map. he even maps out little stops he thinks you’d like, you can’t even remember the last time you needed to decide on where to go.

staff!seungcheol who’ll walk around the city with you, way more relaxed now that he’s on familiar ground, all while pointing out tiny things he remembers from his own life. he’ll say, “used to skip class and hang out here,” or, “this place has the best coffee.” and it’s casual, but you can see how he’s sharing a bit of himself with you, almost like letting you in on these little secrets.

he’s the same guy who’ll quietly, without a word, take off his jacket and drape it over your shoulders when the night air gets too cold, muttering something like, “can’t have you freezing out here,” while you just laugh because he’s the one walking around in a t-shirt in the middle of the night now.

staff!seungcheol who watched you perform on the backstage through the reflector and in the second he sees you stumble, heart pounding harder than it should as his instincts kick in before he even thinks—he’s moving, pushing past a cluster of crew members and ignoring the calls of the other staff, all his attention zeroed in on you. the moment he reaches you, he’s crouching down, there’s this tremor in his voice as he says, “hey, stay still, don’t try to move,” reaching to gently check your injury while his jaw is set tight, his hand firm yet shaking ever so slightly.

he’s not even sure if it’s because he’s furious at the award organization for being careless or just terrified that he saw you go down at all. there’s this split second where he holds you, practically hovering over you protectively, and when you hiss in pain, his hand moves gently, brushing hair out of your face. “i’m so sorry, it’s gonna be okay,” he mutters, his voice way softer than he means, almost sounding choked.

and that’s when it really hits him—this worry clawing its way up his chest, tearing through the professional armor he’s kept on so tightly. all the stuff he’s tried to ignore, to brush off as “just his job,” it’s all boiling over now, searing him. because the sight of you hurt, struggling to get back on your feet, it’s affecting him way, way more than it should. he’s clenching his jaw so hard he thinks it might break, like he’s trying to hold back this tight feeling in his throat, but it’s too late. all he can think is this can’t happen again, this can’t happen to you.

“look at me, alright?” he says, his voice steadier now but barely. he’s doing everything to stay calm, but his hand is still on your shoulder, squeezing just a bit tighter than usual. “i’ve got you. we’re gonna get you checked out, and you’re gonna be okay.” it’s like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he is you. when you try to shrug him off, muttering that you’re fine, he doesn’t even flinch—just picks you up like he’s done it a thousand times before, ignoring any protests, keeping you close to his chest as if letting you go is an option he just can’t entertain.

walking off stage, you’re half-leaning against him, but he can’t look at you without this flood of guilt hitting him. why wasn’t i there faster? he keeps thinking, like he could’ve somehow prevented this whole thing if he’d just been a second sooner, a second more vigilant. he knows it’s irrational, but the thought eats at him. with every step, the weight of what he’s feeling presses harder and harder, making him realize, damn, this isn’t just the job anymore, hasn’t been for a long time.

and now, backstage, with you in his arms, his mind’s racing through a million scenarios of what could’ve happened if the injury had been worse, if he hadn’t been there. it’s almost infuriating, how much he cares, and for a split second, he feels like he can’t breathe, like every single barrier he’s tried to put up to keep things professional has just crumbled into dust.

when the medical team comes over, he still can’t bring himself to fully let you go. he steps back just a bit, giving them space, but his hand’s still resting on your shoulder, thumb unconsciously tracing soft, slow circles like he’s grounding himself in knowing you’re still right there. he catches your eye, the way you give him that reassuring smile despite the pain, and he feels this indescribable surge of… something he’s afraid to name, afraid to admit even to himself.

you’re talking to the medics, brushing it off, laughing even, and he’s half-listening, locked in his own head. he’s known all along he’s cared about you, sure, but seeing you hurt, actually holding you like this, it’s made him realize it’s different now. this is something deeper, something he can’t hide behind a professional mask or dismiss as just his responsibility. you’re not just his artist-boss not just the person he’s assigned to take care of. you’re everything—everything he wants to protect, to keep safe, to make sure stays as perfect and unbreakable as he sees you.

staff!seungcheol, who practically moves in with you after the injury, showing up almost daily with bags of groceries, adjusting the pillows on the couch just right, and doing anything he can to make your life easier while you’re stuck on this forced hiatus. he’s meticulous as always, organizing everything, but he still lets you do the simple things on your own when possible. he knows how much you hate feeling dependent on anyone, even him, so he keeps it balanced. still, every now and then, he steps in—like now, as you awkwardly try to pull on your pajamas with your one good arm, refusing to ask for help but struggling all the same.

“you’re gonna tear the sleeve,” he murmurs, chuckling softly as he crosses the room, gentle hands helping guide your arm through the pajama top like it’s nothing. “and before you say anything, you don’t need to feel embarrassed, alright?”

“yeah, easy for you to say,” you grumble, feeling your cheeks heat up as he adjusts the fabric against your shoulder, the familiarity somehow making it worse. he’s done this a million times on tour, yet here, in the privacy of your own home, with your messy pajamas instead of a flashy stage outfit, it feels… like a shame. hard to ignore.

he just shrugs, glancing at you with a small, reassuring smile. “you’ve got nothing to prove to me. trust me, i’ve seen you through worse—like that one time in paris when you twisted your ankle and tried to walk it off anyway?”

“ugh, don’t remind me.” you roll your eyes, but the memory actually makes you laugh a little. “that was your fault for letting me go out in those ridiculous heels.”

“you’re the one who insisted they looked good,” he teases, smoothing down the collar of your pajama top as if that final adjustment could make this whole thing feel less awkward.

it’s only a few minutes later, as you’re both sitting at the dining table, the food he’s prepped steaming and smelling way too good, that he seems to pick up on the shift in your mood. you’re quiet, picking at your food, trying to ignore the ache in your back and the faint, familiar discomfort building up, reminding you it’s that time of the month—again.

“you feelin’ alright?” he asks, studying you with that same, observant gaze. he reaches over, pressing a hand to your forehead to check for a fever, but you instinctively pull back.

“i’m fine,” you reply a little too quickly, shrugging him off as you try to mask the irritation in your voice. but you know he’s already suspicious. he’s been keeping track of your recovery, and since your doctor had him install that app to sync with your cycle and show schedule, he’s way too aware of these things.

you glance at the notification before he turns the screen down. you groan, “god, i hate that you’re this observant.”

he chuckles softly, “comes with the job..”

“yeah, well… it’s just—look, it’s… i’m on my second ovulation since this stupid injury,” you admit, cheeks heating up as you glance away. “and i can’t… y’know. can’t do anything about it. feels like i’m losing my mind.”

he’s silent for a moment, probably a bit stunned, and you peek up, expecting him to laugh or maybe even crack some joke, but his face is serious. finally, he clears his throat, and his voice is so quiet you barely catch it.

“y/n, you—you could’ve told me. if this is, like, getting to you, there are… other ways.”

your heart races, both from his words and from the way he’s looking at you, and you try to shrug it off with a half-laugh, but your voice wavers. “yeah, and what? you planning on giving me a hand?”

he doesn’t laugh. “if that’s what you need.”

“cheol… whatthefuck?”

“don’t want you suffering alone. if you need me, just say it,” he murmurs.

and in that moment, with him sitting across from you, earnest and willing, you realize maybe you’ve been holding back more than just your pain.

staff!seungcheol watches you carefully, still as a statue except for his hands, which are gripping the underside of the table so hard you swear you can see his knuckles turning colorless. he’s waiting, practically holding his breath, watching every small shift in your expression, and you know he’s waiting for any sign you’re second-guessing. but all you can think about is how much you want him. your eyes slip shut, and you let out a shaky breath, the idea of him, his hands, his mouth on you making you dizzy. when you open your eyes, you meet his, still fixed on you.

you don’t even realize you’ve let out a soft moan until his lips twitch into a faint smile, and he pushes back from the table, coming around it with measured steps. “you sure about this?” he asks, he’s close enough now that you can see every detail of his face—the stray strands of his hair falling across his forehead, the slight flush on his cheeks, the sharp cut of his jawline.

“cheol, please?” you murmur, because god, you need him to close this space, need him to touch you.

he doesn’t need to be told twice. he scoops you up, carefully laying you back on the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs, thumbs rubbing slow circles as he moves higher, taking his time. he’s studying every reaction, every small sigh or shift, until he reaches the waistband of your shorts. he glances up one more time, giving you a moment to stop him, but when you nod, his fingers hook under the fabric, peeling it down slowly.

“fuck, you’re drenched,” he murmurs, as his fingers dip between your thighs, gathering the wetness that’s practically dripping, and spreading on your clit. he raises an eyebrow, glancing at you with a smirk. “been waiting for this?”

you squirm under his touch, cheeks flushing as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, his stubble grazing your skin as he trails his mouth higher, breath warm as he hovers above the wet cunt, your pussy clenches, making a wet sound, his eyes flicking up to meet yours again.

“stay still for me,” he whispers, before his mouth finally, finally connects, and the first touch has you gasping, fingers fisting the sheets. his tongue is slow, and you can feel his tongue sucking your juices inside his mouth. mortifying, delicious. you can’t help but arch your hips toward him, wanting more, but his hands press down on your thighs, holding you in place.

he pulls back just enough to murmur, “turned on?” and his fingers slide in, curling faultlessly as he starts moving, his mouth resuming its work on your swollen clit in a way that makes you disoriented. he doesn’t let up, alternating between teasing you and giving you exactly what you need, fingers curling tight, making the wet sounds louder, pressing against that spot that has you writhing.

“god, look at you,” he whispers, voice rough in your ear as he presses his fingers deeper, his breath hot on your skin. “you’re soaked, y/n. dripping all over my fingers… you don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”

your hips move instinctively, grinding down on his hand, but the way you’re shifting causes a sharp pain to shoot through your arm, making you gasp.

“hold on, wait,” he says immediately, pulling his fingers out, his other hand already moving to your side, gently easing you back down. his eyes scan you for any sign of discomfort, and then he places his hand firmly on your chest, palm pressing between your breasts as he pins you to the bed, keeping you steady. “just like this, okay?” he murmurs, fingers slipping back inside you, his thumb circling your clit. “you can still move down here, but let me do all the work.”

your breath catches as he holds you down, the feeling of his strong hand keeping you in place making you stumble breaths. you’re completely at his mercy, pinned under his hand, unable to do anything but grind against his fingers, and with every thrust, every word he murmurs, you’re spiraling further, faster.

“you’re so perfect like this,” he whispers against your skin, moving his fingers deeper, rougher. “such a mess, taking me so good… you’re gonna cumm for me? yeah? that’s it, just like that…”

your orgasm hits hard, your body clenching around his fingers, thighs trembling, and his hand on your chest keeps you from arching too much, grounding you as your entire body pulses he holds you steady, whispering soft, filthy praises into your ear as you come down, his fingers finally slipping out but his hand staying over your heart, steady and reassuring as your breathing slows.

you look up at him, the aftershocks still tingling, and he gives you a soft, satisfied smile, brushing his thumb gently over your collarbone. “now that’s my good girl.”

seungcheol hovers over you, his face an inch from yours, eyes locked on you like you’re the only thing in the room worth seeing. your breaths are shallow, still struggling to steady, and without another thought, you lift your neck and press your lips to his. he melts into it, kissing you deeper, tongue brushing over yours in a way that makes your skin tingle. he’s careful with his hands, keeping his wet fingers from your hair but awkwardly gripping the pillow, while the other hand slides down, lightly brushing over your chest.

“fuck… cheol,” you mumble into his mouth, feeling almost embarrassed by the way your body’s reacting. the word just slips out, and then it’s followed by, “want your cock so bad. just… just give it to me, please.”

he pulls back, and you’ve never seen that look before—his lips parted, brows raised, the most i-want-pussy-so-fucking-bad face you ever saw. he shakes his head softly, voice a little raspy, “you know i’d ruin you if i could right now,” he says, breath catching. “but it’ll hurt… don’t wanna push it too much.”

“please, cheollie,” you murmur, giving him a sly, knowing look. “you’re gonna be careful with me, right? just… give me a little. i need you so bad, been thinking about it all day…” your voice trails off, and you feel his hand grip a little tighter, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your chest through the thin fabric of your pajamas.

he takes a shaky breath, a low groan slipping out, and suddenly, he’s sliding off the bed, hands trembling just enough for you to notice as he pulls his shirt over his head. his skin is warm, tan, muscles rippling as he unbuttons his jeans, and you can barely breathe as he pushes them down along with his underwear, freeing himself. his cock is thick, flushed a deep pink at the tip, and the way he’s stroking himself, like he’s savoring every second, has you practically drooling.

unable to resist, you tilt your head up, parting your lips, tongue out as you bat your lashes at him, silently begging. he’s already at the edge of the bed, and he lowers himself, the weight of his cock pressing against your lips, and you can’t help the moan that escapes. it’s warm, heavy, and you lean forward just enough, taking him between your lips, letting your tongue glide along the underside.

he strokes a hand over your cheek, thumb grazing just beneath your eye, and his face looks wrecked, like he’s fighting every instinct to just take control. but he holds back, lets you set the pace, lets you tease with your mouth, your tongue swirling over his tip, tasting every inch of him.

you take his whole length in your mouth, sucking him slow, then pulling back to focus on the tip like you’re savoring the best thing you’ve ever tasted. you hear his breath catch, and when his knees falter, his hand grips your shoulder, the sound of his hissed “stop… stop,” barely reaching you over the rush of your own heartbeat. you pull back, licking your lips, watching his eyes go dark as he catches sight of his precum shining on your mouth.

he climbs back onto the bed, sliding between your legs, and you shiver as his rough hands smooth over your thighs, steadying himself, each touch leaving a trail of heat on your skin. his tip brushes your clit, slick and throbbing, and his head falls back, eyes squeezed shut like he’s holding himself back, muttering to himself as if he’s praying to keep control, like he knows he’s on the edge of just losing it. “what a fucking idea, seungcheol.” you can practically hear him thinking, fighting to keep the restraint that’s barely holding on by a thread.

but you want him to break just a little—so you reach down, your smaller hand wrapping around him, tugging him gently, aiming him just right. his eyes snap open, catching you in the act, and he’s on you in a second, his large hand covering yours, guiding himself to press against you, so close but not quite there yet. his forearm braces beside your head as his face hovers above you, dark hair brushing your forehead, and you feel the heat of his chest pressed to yours, your nipples tight against him.

a giggle escapes frpm you, bubbling up from the tension, aroused and just a little wicked, and his gaze sharpens. he bites his bottom lip, a smirk playing on his face, and asks, “think it’s funny to watch me suffer, huh?”

“me?” you bat your eyelashes at him, feigning innocence. “wouldn’t dream of it… i’m just thinkin’ how it’s almost cute how fucked you are already. big, strong seungcheol, lookin’ like he’s about to cry before he’s even all the way in…”

he laughs, pushing just an inch further inside, making you moan, eyebrows scrunching as the heat between you builds. “gonna make you take back every word, babe,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of threat and promise, breath warm against your cheek.

you can’t help yourself, smirking up at him. “well, you better prove it then, baby. or i’m gonna have to tell everyone you barely held up through a single round.”

“oh, you think that’s how this is gonna go?”

and with that, he presses forward, sinking in deeper, your mouth dropping open as he fills you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him.

your walls tighten around him, barely able to take him in, but your body’s greedy, slick and warm, desperate to pull him in even further. your calves wrap around his ass, urging him, and in one move, you tug him, forcing him deeper, filling you completely. you cry out, head rolling back, but seungcheol groans, nearly collapsing onto you, his hand catching himself before he lands too hard.

“what the hell are you doin’,” he pants, shaking his head, his voice all gruff as he looks down at you. “you’re crazy, you know that? what if i’d fallen on your arm?”

you smirk, unashamed, reaching up to tug him down closer. “couldn’t help it… i needed all of you,” you murmur, voice dripping with need, your walls pulsing around him. “need you so deep you’ll still be there tomorrow.”

he laughs, but it melts into a growl as he starts to move. “you know i can’t take it too fast with you today.” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead. “but damn, you’re tight.”

your hips tilt up, meeting him, matching the slow grind, and you look up at him, gaze heavy-lidded. “bet you’ve been thinking about this,” you purr, your fingers trailing down his chest. “probably losing it in that dressing room, thinking how wet i’d get for you.”

“fuck, don’t start with me,” he grits out, his hips faltering for just a second as you clench around him, and you can feel him twitch inside, pulsing as your words hit home. his hand finds its way to your neck, not squeezing but just holding, grounding himself as he slowly fills you over and over. “goddamn, y/n..”

“oh, i know,” you say, breath catching as he leans down, lips brushing yours, barely ghosting as his hips keep that steady, perfect rhythm. “i know exactly how you look at me, seungcheol. like you wanna destroy me.”

his breath hitches, and his hand flexes on your neck as he groans, forehead pressing against yours. “careful what you ask for.” he warns, voice low, but you pout up at him, lips pressing into the slightest pout, all needy.

“i don’t think you’re really up for it, anyway. maybe i need someone who can give it to me for real,” you murmur, words practically melting into his ear, and he stops mid-thrust, his eyes flashing as he studies your face.

“you’re pushin’ it,” he says, voice rough as he resumes moving, but you keep the playful look, barely biting back a smile as he grits his teeth. “if you didn’t have that arm to worry about, i’d have you crying right now, you know that?”

“oh, i know,” you coo back, dragging your nails down his back, just enough to make him hiss. “but what about now? all you can do is hold back ‘cause you’re too scared of hurting me. maybe it’s you who can’t handle it, huh?”

the muscles in his jaw tighten as he leans in close, hips still rolling into you with a slow, maddening rhythm that makes you squirm beneath him. “trust me, i could handle you just fine,” he murmurs against your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “but you’re so damn tight right now, i’d probably split you open if i went harder.”

“maybe i want that,” you whisper, your voice breathless as you shift your hips, taking him even deeper, feeling every inch stretch you with each slow grind of his hips. “maybe i want you to fuck me so good i forget my own damn name.”

seungcheol’s resolve nearly snaps. he groans, his hands gripping your waist to steady you, his thumb brushing along your ribs, and he lets out a shuddering breath, muttering under his breath. “god, ovulations are somethin’ else,” he says, voice cracking, clearly fighting for control. “you’re wet wet—like i might drown in you, damn.”

he lets out a low chuckle, his eyes clouded, almost in awe. “look at this mess,” he murmurs, pulling out just slightly to feel how soaked his length is before sliding back in, feeling your warmth close around him, every muscle clenching down on him, pulling him deeper, your eyes rolling back. “you really think you can handle it if i just… give you what you’re beggin’ for?”

you arch up against him, that challenging spark back in your eyes. “why don’t you just try me?”

he lets out a slow exhale, hand moving from your waist to cradle your face as he picks up the pace, still careful but with a bit more force this time, making you gasp. you whimper, nodding at him to continue, the tension building with each deep stroke, and you can see the satisfaction flash in his eyes as he keeps his rhythm steady, watching the way you start to fall apart beneath him.

he pulls out slowly, just enough to let you feel every ridge, every vein along his length, before pushing back in until his tip is pressed snug against your cervix, making you gasp. the pressure alone makes your head spin, and you can feel his balls, soaked and heavy, pressing against you with each movement, sticky with how drenched you are.

“you still think i’m not giving it to you right?” he taunts, his voice dipping low as he watches your face, one brow lifting just slightly, teasing. “you wanted it rough, didn’t you?” he grins, dragging a hand up your thigh, holding you open for him. “tell me, where’s that attitude now?”

“it’s—it’s…” you trail off, breath hitching as he thrusts again, slower, letting his hips roll so he’s as deep as possible, and you can’t help the shaky whimper that slips out.

“what was that? i couldn’t quite hear you,” he murmurs, voice smug as he leans down, kissing your jaw, your neck, every inch of you that he can reach while still keeping that maddeningly slow pace. “you were talkin’ so big before, and now look at you.”

“i… i can take it,” you stammer, clutching at his shoulders, though the words barely come out with how your voice keeps faltering, his rhythm somehow leaving you more breathless with each thrust.

he chuckles, brushing his thumb across your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. “that so? ‘cause you’re already all teary,” he points out, a hint of affection in his tone, even as he keeps that teasing look in his eyes. “am i really that deep, baby?”

“y-yeah,” you manage to whisper, but your voice wavers, and he grins wider.

“tell me what you need, then,” he says, his hips moving just a fraction faster, the sound of skin meeting skin growing louder, wetter, echoing through the room. “tell me what you want so bad.”

“need… need you to make me cum,” you whimper, the words tumbling out, barely audible. “need to feel you.”

he huffs a little. “you’re falling apart just from this? and here i thought i had to really work for it.”

“i—i can take more,” you manage to gasp out, your body responding to his every movement. “just… just give it to me, seungcheol.”

he shakes his head, smirking as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck. “you really think you can handle it? with that arm and everything?”

“you know i can!” you protest, trying to keep your voice steady, but your hips betray you, rolling against him. “i’m not fragile, you know? just—just don’t stop.”

“is this what you’ve been craving? sum' good cock to make you cum?”

“yes, yes, god—yes!” you whine, the heat pooling in your belly, threatening to spill over at any moment. the sounds of skin slapping together mix with the sweet squelch of your wetness, making it even more intense.

“fuck—my balls are practically soaked from you. you like how that feels, huh? my cock in your sweet little cunt, makin’ a mess of you?”

“you’re so deep, it feels too good—”

“you okay? i’m not hurting you, am i?”

“no, it’s… it’s perfect,” you manage to breathe out.

“what do you think? you think you can handle more?” he asks, almost a growl as he quickens his pace just a bit, sending your mind spinning even further. “or are you just gonna cry for me?”

“shut up!” you whimper, tears finally spilling over as he hits that spot inside you.

“too good, huh?” he teases, biting his lip to stifle a groan as he watches your face contort with pleasure. “do you think i could make you cum like this?”

“yes! yes, just like this!” you gasp, the words tumbling out of you as you feel the familiar tension building in your core. “oh god, seungcheol—”

“what do you want to say?” he presses, leaning closer. “i want to hear you, babe. tell me.”

his thrusts become more insistent, and your body instinctively responds, clenching tightly around him as the waves of pleasure crash over you.

“that’s it, baby,” he encourages. “let it go. i want to feel you cum around me.”

“seungcheol, i—” your voice catches in your throat, your body convulsing as the pleasure overwhelms you completely, every thought dissolving into pure ecstasy. the world around you blurs as you finally let go, and all you can manage is a soft whimper as you surrender to it.

his eyes widen, watching you, makes your heart race even more, and as you tremble beneath him, you feel him pulse inside you, the sensation of his cock sending you spiraling deeper into that sweet oblivion. “my girl..” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe as he rides you through it, feeling your walls contract around him. “so fucking beautiful.”

staff!seungcheol who’s always attentive, watching you as you recover from your last high. he knows how much you need him, but he’s also so damn careful, ever the dedicated staff member. even as you beg him to keep going, to let him cum deep inside you, he hesitates.

he slips out of you, but you’re not ready to let him go. raising your hand, you grab him by the cock, your fingers wrapping around him with a tightness that makes him gasp. “what the hell? oh fuck!” he exclaims, almost stumbling forward as he’s pulled back toward you. his voice shifts from reprimanding to moaning, the scold dying on his lips as he feels your hand start to stroke him.

“i just want to make you feel good, too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you give him a few slow, teasing pumps, enjoying the way his hips instinctively thrust forward, chasing the pleasure you’re giving him.

“you’re gonna get yourself hurt,” he warns shaky, his hands gripping your wrist, but there’s no real force behind it. he’s clearly enjoying it, his breaths coming faster as you continue to stroke him, your fingers gliding effortlessly over his length. “you shouldn’t—”

“shh,” you hush him playfully, biting your lip as you watch his expression morph into one of pure desire. “just let me do this for you. i want you to feel good.”

“god, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that,” he groans, his voice trembling, but the way you’re working your hand up and down, your palm brushing the sensitive tip, it’s too much.

“then cum for me,” you whisper, a seductive promise in your tone. “i’ll take care of you, just like you take care of me. let go.”

staff!seungcheol, who can’t resist the way you look at him, all teasing yet so earnest, the way you squeeze him with just the right amount of pressure, your hand slick with your cum and sure as you stroke him.

staff!seungcheol, who gives in because he can’t help it, because every part of him is craving you, has been for so long. his hips jerk, thrusting up into your hand with a roughness he usually holds back. his eyes are dark, fixed on your hand working him, and he bites his lip, trying to keep himself steady, but it’s no use—you’re so close, whispering his name, brushing your lips over his with every stroke, and he’s already too far gone.

“i can’t hold back when you look at me like that.”

you laugh deliciously, the sound bubbling up from your chest as you lean in, licking his lips.

staff!seungcheol, who can’t hold back any longer, feels the heat rising in his cheeks as he realizes he’s about to spill over. his breath hitches, and just like that, he’s cumming—hard. it’s a mix of deep, throaty moans and soft whimpers escaping his lips, echoing in the quiet room. your belly and fingers are coated with him, and you can’t help but grin at the sight.

“yes, just like that! keep going, let it out, look at you, all moaning like a little slut. how does it feel?”

“shut up,” he mumbles, half-heartedly trying to glare at you, but his eyes are glassy, the words only making him blush deeper.

you smirk, lifting your hand to your mouth, where his cum glistens on your fingers. you start to lick it off, each slow drag of your tongue making his breath hitch in his throat.

staff!seungcheol who’s mortified, wide-eyed as he grabs your wrist, halting your movements and making your tongue stay out, eagerly waiting. “no, no, don’t do that!”

you pout at him, eyes big and pleading, your voice coming out in the sweetest “please?” he hesitates, visibly torn, but eventually lets go of your wrist, swallowing hard as you close your eyes and bring your fingers back to your lips. the way you lick it all up slowly, savoring each taste with a big-ass smile, drives him crazy. it’s like you’re teasing him all at once, every nerve in his body alive with the sight of you, so effortlessly and unapologetically indulging yourself.

staff!seungcheol who’s at a complete loss, his eyes wide as he watches, helplessly captivated by the way you move, the small smile on your face showing just how aware you are of his reaction. he shifts, clearly trying to gather himself, but you notice his fingers flexing at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to pull you close again.

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐮𝐭

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

summary: drew appears on the late late show with james corden to play the infamous game ‘spill your guts or fill your guts’. little does he know, you had previously been on the show and specifically requested he be invited.

warning(s): english is not my native language. mild language, secondhand embarrassment, extreme cheesiness and boyfriend material overload.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @issabellec7

based on this request

“Alright, Drew,” James started, rubbing his hands together.

“First of all, welcome! We are so happy to have you here.”

“Thank you, man, I appreciate it,” Drew said, shifting in his seat.

“Though I gotta say, I have a really bad feeling about this.”

James let out a dramatic laugh.

“As you should! Because, as you saw, your lovely girlfriend Y/N was here not too long ago. And guess what? She personally requested you to be here tonight!”

Drew groaned playfully, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, I knew it!”

“And,” James continued, “she also made sure we included dark chocolate, which I assume is some kind of inside joke?”

Drew exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.

“Yeah, uh, I hates dark chocolate. Like, passionately. So this is definitely her way of messing with me.”

“Well, my friend, she succeeded!” James laughed.

“Now, let’s get started! First up…”

He gestured toward the table, dramatically lifting the first lid.

James scrunched his nose.

“Oh, this smells absolutely disgusting. So, Drew, here’s your first question: What is the most annoying habit Y/N has that drives you crazy?”

The crowd gasped playfully. Drew tilted his head back, laughing.

“Oh man, I can already hear her reaction to this.”

“Would you like a bite of pickled pig’s feet instead?”

James wiggled his eyebrows.

Drew shook his head.

“No, no, I’ll answer. Uh… okay, Y/N is literally the most perfect human, but if I had to say something…”

He exhaled dramatically.

“She never puts the cap back on the toothpaste. And she squeezes it from the middle instead of the bottom, and it kills me.”

The audience burst into laughter.

“That is valid,” James agreed.

“She’s an amazing actress, but a toothpaste menace.”

James pulled out a glass filled with a murky, grayish-green liquid.

“This is a sardine smoothie. And your question is: What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for Y/N that she doesn’t even know about?”

Drew winced at the drink.

“That looks awful.”

“It is awful,” James confirmed. “So spill it.”

Drew thought for a moment, then smiled.

“Okay. There was this one time when Y/N had a bad day she didn’t say anything, but I could tell. She had this childhood book she lost years ago, so I spent weeks tracking down a first-edition copy. I left it on her nightstand with a note, but I never told her it was me.”

The audience awed loudly.

James clutched his chest.

“That is the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life!”

Drew shrugged, grinning. “I just love making her happy.”

James lifted the lid, revealing a large, slimy cow tongue. Drew grimaced.

“Nope. Absolutely not.”

“Then answer this,” James smirked.

“Out of all of Y/N’s past on-screen romantic co-stars, who do you think had the best chemistry with her?”

Drew’s jaw dropped as the audience gasped. “Oh, come on!”

“Answer, or it’s cow tongue time!”

Drew groaned.

“Fine. If I’m being honest… I hated watching her with Jake Gyllenhaal. They just had way too much chemistry, and it made me so jealous.”

James burst into laughter.

“You paused the movie, didn’t you?”

Drew sighed. “Paused it. Left the room. Came back an hour later and still wasn’t over it.”

James lifted the plate.

“Drew, Y/N personally requested the chocolate, but we added wasabi. Your question: What’s the cheesiest thing you say to Y/N in private that you would never say in public?”

Drew groaned.

“Oh no. Nope. I refuse to expose myself like this.”

“You sure?” James taunted.

Drew sighed. “Fine. I call her ‘my little sunshine bean.’”

James lost it. “SUNSHINE BEAN?!”

Drew buried his face in his hands. “I knew this was a mistake!”

James wiped his tears.

“Alright, last one. You have to call Y/N and let her ask you a question. Answer, or take a bite of fermented tofu.”

Drew sighed dramatically before dialing your number.

“Drew?” your voice filled the studio. “Are you on Spill Your Guts?”

The crowd cheered.

“Yeah, baby, I am. And James is making me call you.”

You giggled. “Okay… If you had to get a giant tattoo of my face anywhere, where would you put it?”

Drew groaned as James cackled.

“Fine! I’d put it on my ribs. Right over my heart, happy now?”

You gasped dramatically. “That was actually a really good answer.”

James smirked. “What’s a role you regret turning down or missing out on?”

Drew sighed. “I was this close to being in a Western movie, and I regret not pushing harder for it.”

James lifted the bowl. “If you could travel anywhere right now, where would it be?”

Drew smiled. “Greece. I wanna take Y/N and just disappear on an island for a month.”

James leaned in. “What’s your dream project?”

Drew grinned. “Something I can do with Y/N. Whether it’s a rom-com or an action movie, I just wanna work with her.”

James clapped his hands.

“Drew, you survived!”

Drew blew a kiss to the camera.

“I did it for you, baby!”

[nanaslutt]

Best friend’s dad

ʚ ft. Toji Fushiguro

ʚ cont: fem reader, legal age gap (r! is in college), virgin reader, dry humping, fingering, oral (f!r), so much dirty talk, teasing, sexual tension, mutual pining, rough sex, multiple orgasms, dacraphillia, unprotected sex, breeding kink, big dick Toji

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

It wasn't at all uncommon for you to spend the night at Megumi's house, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't have alternative motives for wanting to stay the night so often. Luckily for you, Megumi didn't care much about your gross, taboo crush on his father. He wasn't completely unaware of how people looked at him in public, how solicitors lost their pitch when he opened the door. 

Toji Fushiguro was one of the most handsome men you'd ever seen, so what if he was old enough to be your dad? Clicking the buttons on your car remote, it locked with a honk as you made your way up to the Fushiguro's front door, bag in hand, ready to spend the night yet again. Finals had just finished, meaning you two had some time to relax, maybe order some food, maybe convince Fushiguro to finally invite his long-time crush, Itadori, over to spend the night as well. 

"It'll be perfect!" Your voice bordered on whining as you sat on your knees in front of Megumi and gripped his shoulders hard, shaking him back and forth. The dark-haired boy looked unimpressed, staring off into space as he waited for you to let go of him. "Look I even downloaded his favorite movies just for tonight!" You exclaimed, gesturing to the TV in front of you.

"How do you know his favorite movies?" Fushiguro asked, his eyes pointing at you like little slivers, his voice accusatory. "Relax loverboy, I asked for your sake." You deadpanned, shaking your head. You had been friends with Itadori almost as long as you'd known Megumi. When the three of you ended up at the same junior high all those years ago, you took the initiative to introduce them to each other, and the three of you have been inseparable ever since. 

Megumi pouted and looked away, a light blush dusting across his cheeks. The three of you had hung out many times before, but never the two of them alone, and never at his house. Because of Fushiguro's dad, he didn't bring people home often. His dad was a bit crass and intimidating, he didn't want to scare away any possible friends by introducing them to his dad prematurely, so you were the only one of Megumi's friends he'd med, besides friends here and there in passing, only having seen them for a moment when Megumi had to stop by the house to grab something. 

Fushiguro's groan made you snap your head away from the TV as you organized the movies in order so one would play after the other. Megumi had his face in his hands before he lifted his face, his hands dragging down the skin of his face. "What are you pouting about? I'm not taking no for an answer Fushiguro, tonight is the night." You said, emphasizing your words with your hands.

"It's not that... I'm worried about him meeting my dad." Megumi said, running a hand through his hair. You suppressed a giggle, covering your mouth, "He's not as scary as you think he is. Anyways, Itadori is good with people, he's not going to be put off by your dad Fushiguro." You said, watching Megumi's reaction to your words. He sighed, half rolling his eyes before they landed on yours. "You don't think he's scary because you're in love with him." Megumi deadpanned, looking almost disgusted at you.

You smirked, shaking your head. "I can think he's scary and hot at the same time." Megumi groaned at your words, he hated when you called his dad hot to his face. "Anyways if you're scared of that old man just say that., but Itadori will be different." You laughed, poking Megumi's shoulder. He quickly swatted at your hand, making you laugh and find the remote again. 

"Who's an old man?" A deeper, more mature voice echoed from the hall. You weren't given long to brace yourself before Megumi's door was being pushed open by a socked foot, the large figure coming into view as Toji Fushiguro himself crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. You felt your heart race, all the saliva left your mouth in an instant, so much for not being scared of him.

"You. Get out." Megumi said plainly, not even bothering to look in the direction of his father. You on the other hand, had your eyes glued to the older man, your eyes not so subtly tracing down his body, taking in the eye candy in front of you shamelessly. The tight black shirt he was wearing accentuated his muscles, the ridges of his abs standing out clear as day through the fabric, making the previously scarce saliva return to your mouth. 

You tried to resist the urge to stare at his bottom half when you realized he was wearing grey sweats. You don't know how those damn pants still had the ability to get you so hot when that's all you'd ever seen him wear, but they did the job well. Dragging your eyes back up his body, they landed on his face. Your heart nearly shot out of your mouth when you realized he was already looking at you. How long had he been watching you?

"I didn't see you when you came in," Toji said, tipping his head against the door. You almost missed the way his eyes looked over your body subtly as you sat on Megumi's bed, legs now crossed. You cleared your throat before you spoke, "I just got here, Mr. Fushiguro," You said, averting your eyes as you spoke. "Come find me and say hi next time, you're my favorite friend of Megumi's after all," Toji responded, taking the opportunity of you looking away to stare at how well your tits filled out the shirt you were wearing, your cleavage spilling out from the top.

It was rare you were wearing anything other than Megumi's clothes when you came over, so this was a sight for sore eyes, a sight he wasn't going to miss even if you caught him. After all, you were wearing that shirt in his house, he should have the right to look at you all he wants. His lidded eyes found your face once again, he didn't miss the way the tips of your ears had turned a bright red, he swallowed hard at the sight. You always got so fidgety so easy, he didn't even have to do anything. 

"She's the only friend of mine you know, idiot," Megumi interjected, keeping his eyes on his phone as he typed away. Toji's smirk grew, his eyes staying locked on yours even as his son spoke. "Doesn't change a thing." He replied, his tone suggestive.

He held eye contact with you for a moment, maybe even a second too long, your heartbeat becoming the only thing you could hear in your ears before he looked away, his body peeling off the wall as he grabbed the handle and closed it behind him. "Knock next time!" Fushiguro yelled as he heard his father's footsteps descend away from his door, getting heavier and heavier.

You sighed long and hard before you fell face-first into Megumi's comforter, letting out a string of squealing. "You're so gross, don't do that in front of me," Megumi said, giving you a hard side eye as he tapped away on his phone. "Anyways... while you were flirting with my dad I uh, I invited Itadori. He'll be on his way soon." Megumi said. You don't think your body has ever moved as fast as it did at that moment.

Sitting up you grabbed the tops of Megumi's knees and shook them, the back of his head hitting against the headboard in the process as you voiced your excitement. "Megumiiiii! This is gonna be so great!" You exclaimed. Megumi everted his eyes, a pout forming on his face as he blushed harder, a hand covering his face in the process.

"Okay, okay, enough." He said, his eyes squinting as he looked at the wall. Once you finally let go of Megumi, you ranted about how the night was going to go, laying out your master plan for the boy. Megumi pretended to be uninterested the entire time, but you both knew how much he was actually hanging onto your every word. He wanted this to go smoothly just as much as you did.

When Yuuji finally arrived, the meeting with Mr. Fushiguro had gone better than he ever expected. Itadori, ever the polite boy he was, ran excitedly up the the older Fushiguro and shook his hand with the grip of a thousand men, shaking it as he spewed praises about the man's son. Toji gave a knowing smirk to the dark-haired boy behind his friend as he desperately tried to pry Itadori away from his dad.

So far, everything was going to plan. Dinner had been eaten, and gossip had been spilled, mostly by you and Itadori, but Megumi was happy to be there, despite his scowl that said otherwise. Now the three of you were sat on the bed, ready to watch Itadori's favorite movies, unbeknownst to the pink-haired boy. You had purposefully left out the part in your plan where you were going to excuse yourself from the room when the movie started to allow Megumi and his long-time crush some alone time, as you knew Megumi probably wouldn't have invited him over in that case. 

You rested on your side at the end of the bed by the boy's feet, who sat together against Megumi's headboard, shoulders just inches away from touching, each time you glanced over at them the smile you gave Megumi combined with your wiggling eyebrows made him kick you in the back, an action Itadori seemed to miss. 

The room was dark as the movie came to life, a blanket draped over the bottom half of your body as you stared blankly at the TV, trying to pretend to be interested in the freaky and confusing plot of Itadori's favorite movie. You guessed Megumi was feeling the same way since you two shared the same taste in movies. Only he actually had a reason to pretend to be interested, you didnt. 

Before you fell asleep and ruined your master plan, you slid off the bed, trying not to get in the way of the TV. You threw the blanket on top of the two boys' legs, hoping at some point they would adjust it and get cozy together. Both boys looked over your way as you stood on your feet before looking back at them. "Bathroom?" Itadori asked, tilting his head at you like a puppy.

"Ah... Something like that, I'll be back in a second!" You said, putting on your best sincere smile as you looked between the boys. Yuji looked away first after acknowledging your words, Megumi stayed staring, a look on his face that read, Don't do this to me. You smiled, your eyes crinkling at the corners as you mouthed, "This is for your own good." Making Megumi press his lips tightly together in response. You swear you saw his eye twitch before you turned around and started for the door.

Closing Megumi's bedroom door behind you as quietly as possible, you pressed your back against it, smiling to yourself. Your eyes darted around the dark and quiet hallway as you tried to figure out what you were going to do to pass the time. The movie was almost three hours after all. You decided to head to the living room after a couple of moments of pondering. 

Toji would most likely be in his room by now, leaving you the kitchen and living area to yourself, the perfect place to lounge around by yourself as you gave the boys some space. As you tiptoed past Toji's room, you noticed it was completely silent through the door, not even a crack of light peaking under the wood. Toji had horrible sleeping habits from what you conjured since spending so much time here, so it was unusual for him to be asleep at this time, but it wasn't unusual for him to be in his room at this hour. 

You grabbed the railing as you fumbled in the darkness, tiptoeing down the stairs as you made your way to the living area. You were about to sigh in relief when you finally made it down the stairs without falling when you saw a faint blue light flashing from the direction of the living area. Poking your head around the corner, you caught a glimpse of the back of Toji's head. 

You felt your mouth run dry when your eyes focused in the dark and took in the expanse of Toji's bare arms and neck. Squinting your eyes, you could see his shoulders were bare too. Was he shirtless? It was then that you saw the towel slung over the back of the couch under Toij's large arm, his hair that glowed in the light of the TV appearing to be damp. 

You felt your face heat up. You've seen Toji shirtless before, and each time his impressive physique was in front of you, it made it impossible for you to focus on anything but how many indents were in between each of his abs. You tucked your head back behind the wall, Toji now out of view as you pressed your back against the wall. 

There was nowhere else in the house you could wait out the movie, besides maybe the bathroom, but if Itadori or Fushiguro needed to use the bathroom, it would be over. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and took deep, slow breaths, trying to calm your heart as you gathered the courage to walk out into the room.

Maybe you would get lucky and Toji wouldn't acknowledge your presence as you sat on one of the bar stools in the kitchen, away from him and his insane body. Although you had told Megumi you weren't scared of him, you were partially lying. You were intimidated, especially when you were faced with him on your own.

Even after all your years of knowing Megumi, you've had very few conversations with Toji one one-on-one, never lasting long enough to get past the "How's your day?" question before Megumi popped back into the room and dragged you away. Your heart was still racing even after taking so many deep breaths, the past conversations you'd had with him replaying over and over in your head, unknowingly stressing you out.

After a few more moments of internal struggle, you peeled your ridged body off the wall and walked into the living area, trying to ignore Toji as you b-lined for the kitchen, an almost constipated look on your face as you held your breath. Toji turned his head around to face you when he heard your footsteps, his dark eyes following your body as you walked right past him without uttering so much as a word.

Just when you thought you'd gotten lucky, a very familiar, deep, pussy wetting voice echoed quietly through the almost silent room. "Ignoring me again? My feelings might get hurt if you keep this up." Your back was to him as you held the handles of the cabinet, freezing in place. You pressed your lips together in defeat, your eyes shutting for a brief moment before you turned on your heels to look at him. 

Only the Toji Fushiguro who was sitting on the couch just moments ago was now leaning forward on the back of the bar chair on the opposite side of the kitchen island from you, one large hand gripping the back of the chair, the other holding a beer bottle. Sure enough, your eyes hadn't been deceiving you back then. Toji was completely shirtless, his sweats hung lowly on his hips. You prayed he didnt catch the way your eyes flitted down his body, staring long enough to notice the veins on his v-line, before you caught yourself.

You met his eyes for only a moment before you looked away, your body stuttering as you turned around and reached back up to the cabinet for a glass, a heat creeping up your neck.

"Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you." You said, clearing your throat before you spoke. You shut the cabinet quietly before stepping over to the sink and filling your glass. "Such a sweetheart." Toji praised, his words making your hand squeeze the glass a little tighter. 

Toji took the chance to rake his eyes down the back of your body. He could easily see how tense you were, how the muscles in your arms and back tensed and released each time he spoke. You were almost vibrating with nervousness, and he was eating it up. You locked eyes with him as you turned around, sitting back against the sink, your legs pressed tightly together, looking ever so ridged. 

"What are you doing down here anyways huh? Thought you were watchin' a movie with the boys." Toji asked, bringing his beer to his lips, all while keeping his eyes on you. You hesitated before you spoke, you knew Toji didn't care about things like two boys being together, but you didn't know if he knew Megumi was into boys. "Just uh... not my kinda movie." You said, quickly bringing the glass to your lips to hide your lie. 

"Mmm," Toji responded, keeping his eyes on yours even after you looked away. "Wanna watch a movie with me then? I'll let you pick 'n everything." Toji said, tilting his head over to the couch. If your mouth wasn't dry before, it was now. It was so impossibly hard not to ogle his body. It was right in front of you, and he was so toned and impressive like he spent years on it. It's like he wanted someone to look at it, to appreciate it. And god if you were given the chance, you would. 

You had no real reason not to accept his invitation, besides the fact that you were positive you were already drenching your panties, and you weren't sure if you could hold a coherent conversation with him without panting like a dog and staring at his body like he's some piece of meat. You rubbed your lips together nervously before your eyes found him again and you nodded.

A smirk spread across Toji's features, one that made your knees weak. "Good. You wanna beer or anything first?" Toji offered before he rounded the counter and placed the empty bottle by the sink, his body now dangerously close to yours. Each time he was this close to you, it was impossible to not think about how prominent your size difference was. He was bigger than you in every way, it made you shiver.

"Please." You responded, nodding. A drink would either help you fucking relax, or make your horniess and self-awareness ten thousand times worse, you would find out soon, but you had to try something and quick before you pounced on him. "So polite too. Love that." Toji smiled before you felt a heavy pressure against your head. His hand retracted before you could even register what happened.

You were stuck staring blankly at the expanse of his large, toned back as he opened the fridge and grabbed two new beers, holding the tops of them in one hand between his fingers. He looked at you over his shoulder as gestured with his head toward the TV before he started for it, you following hot on his trail. 

Toji sat down first, his legs spreading wide as he patted the cushion next to him, inviting you to sit down. The TV was on, but muted, only colorful lights illuminated his and your bodies as you stood in front of the TV. Toji leaned forward and started taking the caps off your beers while you got situated next to him.

You kept your distance a bit as you finally sat down, the purposeful action not being missed by the ever-so-observant man next to you. "Don't be scared sweetheart, I won't bite," Toji said teasingly, resting his arm close to you out over the back of the couch behind you as he held your beer out for you with his other. "Sorry." You mumbled, taking the drink from his hand. 

"You scared of me? After all this time?" Toji laughed, his body angled a little towards you, his knee almost bumping into yours as you sat formally next to him, legs pressed firmly together. You were about to continue when Toji spoke first, adding, "Is it 'cos I'm your boyfriend's dad?" You swear in that moment the world stopped rotating on its axis. The reaction you gave him was the most emotion he's seen from you all night.

Leaning closer to Toji, you scrunched your eyebrows together in confusion, a look of almost disgust plastered on your face. "You think Megumi is my boyfriend??" you asked incredulously, making Toji's eyes open a bit in response to your visceral reaction. "I figured from how often you spend the night over here. Always hangin' out in his bedroom with the door shut." Toji said, a look of amusement on his face.

Your hands shot up in front of you as you quickly waved them back and forth, shaking your head from side to side at the same time. "Ohhhhh nonononono, no. NO." You said, your tone getting firmer with every no you uttered. Toji let out a deep chuckle, the sound warming you up from the inside out. "Sorry, guess I should've assumed then," Toji said before he reached out and patted your knee, making your body go ridged again.

The touch was gone before you knew it, much like the one in the kitchen. "I don't have to feel bad then," Toji mumbled under his breath before he took a gulp of his drink. You were going to ask him to repeat what he said before he spoke again, cutting you off. "So, you gotta boyfriend then? Can't imagine he's so cool with you sleepin' over at some other guy's house so often." Toji pushed, his eyes tracing over your form almost unnoticeably from the sides of his eyes. 

Your eyes were not in front of you, watching the colors and words on the TV change as you took in his words while you sipped on your drink, the bitter liquid making your throat burn as it went down. "No, I've never had a boyfriend." You said, your body relaxing against the couch as you were swept up in thought.

Toji found this extremely enticing, his knee closest to you bending on the couch as he now turned his body fully to face you, drink resting against his knee as he held his face with his palm, elbow resting against the back of the couch. "No? You're such a pretty little thing, can't imagine you'd run into problems finding a boyfriend." Toji's praise made your whole body vibrate with a newfound heat. You kept your body facing forward but turned your head to face him, unable to stop yourself from running your eyes down his body once before you found his eyes.

"It's not like I've never had crushes or anything, but all throughout high school, and even now in college, Megumi... he scares guys away." You say, sighing before you look away. "He doesn't mean to, but he can come off as intimidating sometimes, so guys don't approach me when he's around... which is most of the time." You finish, shaking your head.

Toji hummed in acknowledgment as he listened to you speak, all the while staring shamelessly at your tits from the side, his eyes dark. "You want a boyfriend?" He asked, sipping on his beer while he kept his eyes on your chest. He swallowed hard when you leaned fully back against the couch abruptly, your cleavage jiggling from the top of your shirt. You placed the beer bottle between your thighs and rubbed your knees, your face screwing in all kinds of ways as you thought.

"Sometimes." You replied when you had decided on an answer. Toji could tell you were much more relaxed now. Leaning forward, he plucked your half-empty drink from between your thighs and placed it on the coffee table, along with his own before he went back to resting on his hand like nothing happened. The small gesture had made your heart race again after it had been so calm too.

Your palms felt sweaty as you rubbed your knees, suddenly so acutely aware of his eyes on you. "Why's that?" Toji pushed, his knee threatening to bump into yours. He hadn't moved, but he seemed so much closer now. Or maybe it was just your senses heightening as you were suddenly more aware of his arm behind your shoulders, his collarbones flexing every time he moved.

You shrugged before looking at him, turning your face fully to look at him this time, your legs staying firmly pressed together. You felt yourself throb when your eyes locked on his, his gaze darker and more intense than before. "You want someone to take care of you?" Toji asked, keeping his wording vague on purpose to tease you. And tease you it did. You tried to rub your thighs together subtly as your eyebrows furrowed with your growing arousal.

You tried to keep your eyes on his as you nodded. You didn't know if it was your own arousal and slight tipsyness, but the air in the room seemed to shift. Toji reached out and caressed your face with the palm of his hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek. His touch was so delicate compared to how rough his skin felt against you. "You drunk?" Toji asked, probably noticing the fuzziness in your eyes, only it wasn't from the alcohol.

"No." You replied, leaning against his touch instinctively despite every alarm going off in your head that was telling you you shouldn't be doing this. "You look warm, you sure? Can't even look at me right." Toji teased, cocking his head to the side as he ran his hand up to your forehead, feeling how hot your skin felt. You pressed your thighs together harder, feeling yourself throb as he touched you so freely. "It's not 'cos of the alcohol." You whispered, part of you hoping he wouldn't catch your words.

Toji's smirk grew before he dragged his eyes up from your plush lips to your eyes, his gaze dark and telling. "No?" He asked, his eyebrows raising in question. "What is it then?" Toji pushed, subtly and slowly leaning closer to you, trying to get you to open up to him. Just when you were about to answer, the sound of someone falling down the stairs shook you out of the headspace you were in.

Toji didn't even flinch, instead turning his head to look at the source of noise as you jerked your body away from him, putting some distance between yourselves as his hand dropped from your face. A few moments later the familiar siloet of Yuji Itadori popped out from behind the wall, rubbing the back of his head in pain. He froze in place when he saw the two of you staring at him before his head tilted in confusion.

"Huh? What are you doing down here?" You suppressed the urge to giggle as you stared at the pink-haired boy who quickly resumed his pace for the kitchen. "Oh uh, just wasn't super into the movie." You lied through your teeth, the shakiness in your voice only making sense to the older man in front of you whose attention was now on you, his eyes staring right through you. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, we can watch something else if you want." Itadori offered sweetly as he grabbed two cans of soda out from the fridge before closing it and walking up behind the couch. Your eyes almost shot out of your sockets when you felt a warm hand engulf your thigh. Your eyes shot over to Toji's for half a second before they were back on Yujis. "No worries!" You said, shaking your hands out in front of you, praying he wouldn't get any closer to notice Megumi's dad's hand on your thigh, his thick rubbing teasing circles against it. 

"Me and Mr. Fushiguro are watching something instead! Go spend some alone time with Megumi!" You said, shaking your head rapidly, trying to ignore how hot you felt between your thighs as you placed your hand on top of the older Fushiguro's, begging him not to tease you right now. That only made him slide his hand up further, the tips of his fingers teasing right under the fabric of your shorts, making you suppress a whimper. 

Itadori smiled at your words, the tips of his ears turning red. "Yeah, alright." He said, nodding at you, "But if you change your mind, the movie doesn't have that much left so you can join us whenever!" He was so kind, you felt so bad you didn't comprehend a single word he said as you dug your nails into Toji's wrist, who was now licking his lips as his fingers were lost deeper and deeper under your shorts.

You nodded, making sure the pink-haired boy was out of sight and up the stairs before you let out the breath you were holding. "What are you doing?" You stuttered, your words coming out breathy and needy. Toji slid his hand fully under the fabric of your shorts before he gripped the fat of your thighs, his thumb pinching the fat right next to your panties, making your eyes flutter.

"You were gonna tell me what had you all squirmy before that kid came down here," Toji said, retracting his hand from under your shorts, leaving your skin feeling hot where he last touched it. Your brain was short-circuiting at this point. No one had ever touched you the way Toji was touching you right now, and you had no idea why he was. You couldn't stop yourself from dragging your eyes down his torso and falling on his lap.

There was an extremely noticeable bulge in his sweat where his cock was, making you swallow all the saliva in your now dry mouth. Toji licked his lips as he watched your eyes trail over his body, making him feel hot. "I see the way you look at me," Toji whispered before the hand he held on the back of the couch slid down to the back of your neck, gripping your nape.

"I-" you were about to respond when he continued, "I hear you. Hear the way you talk about me to my son." Toji adds, making any denial or rebuttal you had vanished in an instant. "I feel the way you're pressing your thighs together right now." The grip on your neck tightened before his fingers started rubbing against you, sliding a bit down your back before caressing back up to your nape. 

"I've been around long enough to notice when a woman is aroused." You swallowed hard at his insinuating words. "You a virgin?" Toji continued, his question making your veins run cold. "Cos you're sure actin' like one." He laughed at his own words, making your face heat up in embarrassment. "Mr. Fushiguro..." You started, unsure of what you even wanted to say as you whispered his name, pouting at him,

"You said you want someone to take care of you right?" He asked before the hand on your nape was sliding down your back again. His arm wrapped around your torso and pulled you close to him, making your heart race in your chest, the sound of it loud in your ears. Using his other hand he situated you on his lap, spreading your thighs over his, the neediest part of you pressing right on top of his crotch, which was hard and hot under you.

"Tell me you want this and I'll make you feel so good pretty girl, not into forcing a girl to do shit she doesn't wanna do," Toji said, making you swallow hard at his words. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't imagined what he was like in bed before. He was so domineering and intimidating, he seemed like the kind of guy who wanted you to verbalize what you wanted in bed, and you were quickly finding out that was true.

One of Toji's large hands rested on your upper thigh as his other reached up and caressed your cheek, trying to get you to relax. "What if Megumi or Itadori comes down here? What if we get caught?" You whisper, averting your eyes from his when his lustful gaze proved too much to handle. Toji could feel how your cunt pulsed and throbbed on top of him even through all the layers of clothes. He knew Megumi didn't care about your crush on him, and he knew even more that you wanted this. You were just nervous and he would say anything you wanted to reassure you.

"No one is coming down here," Toji said, caressing your thigh. "It's just you and me sweet thing," Toji emphasized his words by pressing his hips up into yours, his hard cock pressing harder against you, making your eyes flutter shut for a second. After a few more moments of Toji patiently caressing your face, waiting for your brain to work and decide your answer, you finally nodded before speaking the words that sealed your fate, "I want it."

Toji smiled before he thrust his hips slowly up against you again, watching how your body relaxed from the shallow teasing. "Want what?" He asked, licking his lips as he kept his eyes on yours. Your breathing was now fast and staggered as you met his hips with your own, slowly rolling your cunt against him, bringing yourself some relief. "Want you to make me feel good." You responded, your face growing hotter at the admission.

Toji picked up the pace of his hips, your body now bouncing on top of his as he dry-humped you a little faster. He dropped his hand from your face and placed both of them behind you on your hips, helping you rock yourself against him. "Yeah?" He responded, his eyebrows furrowing together as he teased you. "Want me to make you feel good?" He teased, his hands grip on your hips bruising. "Want me to make you cum?" His words made you nod your head furiously as whimpers fell from your lips, his part cock rubbing perfectly against your clit through all the layers of clothing. 

He groaned through his teeth, his eyes falling shut for a moment as he rested his head back against the couch, watching the way your almost limp body rocked on top of him, your hands grabbing firmly on his forearms, steadying yourself. "Wanted you for so long, you know that?" Toji confessed, feeling his cock drip pre-cum steadily into his boxers. He was leaking so much, he felt like a teenager again.

You whined at his words, one of your hands leaving his forearm to press against your mouth, half to suppress your noises, half to cover yourself out of embarrassment. "Wanted to fuck you every time I saw you walk around my house in nothing but a t-shirt." He continued babbling, dragging you faster along his clothed cock. "Had to fucking rub one out every time you looked at me with those pretty eyes, so submissive 'n scared." You caught a gasp behind your hand. He got off to you? He's been getting off to you?

"Haven't been able to fuck anyone but my fist since I set my eyes on you." Toji groaned, his cock throbbing hard against his pants as he spoke, his voice getting rougher. "You gonna let me fuck you tonight?" Toji asked, smiling with his mouth slightly parted, arousal leaking out of his words. Looking down at his cock, you could see how big it was even covered by his sweats. Sure you had fucked yourself on a dildo before, but nothing compared to Toji's size.

"I don't... I don't know how to" You started, uncovering your mouth as you spoke, your eyes finding him again. "Don't worry about a thing sweetheart, just gotta lay there while I drill my cock into you." You screamed internally, how could he say such shameless things so easily? "Okay, okay you can fuck me." you said quietly, your eyebrows furrowing together as you spoke, keeping your eyes on him.

The groan that left Toji's lips was raw and unrestrained, if his cock and balls didn't ache before, they sure as hell did now. "Good choice princess, I'll fuck you so good," Toji promised. He only let you rock back and forth a few more times before he spun your body around and placed your back against his chest, your legs being spread apart by his large hands. "Can't take this dry-humping shit anymore though. Gonna blow my load in my pants if we keep that up." Toji groaned, almost pouting. He was more sensitive than he would care to admit, just a few minutes of dry humping and he was already ready to cum.

You tried to focus on what was happening now as you took in the woody, familiar smell of Toji's scent. His abs felt so hard agaisnt your back, and his breath that was tickling your shoulders and neck each time he exhaled sent shivers down your spine, he was so close, so all-consuming, so overwhelming. Your head was being forced to the side by his own as he dropped his head down to the crook of your neck and began sucking against your pulse point, making you gasp into the air.

"Keep m' open," Toji whispered, his voice deep against your ear as he released one of your legs and slowly dragged his fingertips along the inside of your thigh, tickling your skin. You felt yourself throb each time he got closer and closer to where you needed him most. "You masturbate?" Toji asked, his lips disconnecting from your neck and switching to your ear, his sharp teeth nibbling against the shell of it.

His words caught you off guard as you looked down between your legs to watch his hand that was getting dangerously close to your cunt. You hesitated before nodding. You felt his cock twitch against your ass. His fingers hovered just above your cunt as you subtly wiggled against him, trying to get him to touch you. "How do you do it?" He pressed before tapping his fingers against your clit, pausing after every few touches.

You moaned and wiggled against him, trying to be as conscious as possible about how loud you were being. "Mr. Fushiguro-" You whined, not wanting to answer his embarrassing question. "Toji." He corrected before continuing, "Do you rub your clit till you cum? Do you finger yourself? Both?" His voice was so deep and rough next to your ear, that you couldn't help but moan. "Both..." You whispered, your eyes squeezing shut. Toji groaned before he slipped his hand under your shorts and panties with ease before finding your clit expertly and rubbing it.

It felt so hot in your shorts, the wetness of your cunt was rubbing against the back of his hand from how drenched your panties were. "Like this?" Toji asked, his eyes staring at your pretty face that was screwed in pleasure, your mouth falling open and closed like a fish out of water. His fingers were so large, and he rubbed your clit perfectly with just his middle finger, small quick circles rubbing expertly against the little bud.

"What do you think about when you touch yourself?" He continued, his voice only trying the knot in your stomach even deeper. "You think about gettin' fucked in your tight virgin pussy? Think about someone's mouth on you?" His fingers were faster now, small noises of slickness were spilling out from your panties, echoing into your ears from how wet you were. "T-think about you" You cried, your legs flexing as they fought to stay open, obeying Toji's words.

Toji groaned before he started rubbing his fingers lower, right over your wet, slick-covered hole. "You flatter me. So it's my cock you think about fucking you." Toji grinned as he singled out his middle finger and pressed it against your hole, your pussy greedily swallowing up his finger as he watched your jaw fall open. "So fucking tight..." Toji mumbled under his breath before he slowly pumped it in and out of you, curling his finger upwards to rub against your g-spot each time it was inside. 

"Toji-" You gasped, your abdominal muscles clenching each time he thrust his finger into you. "You ever think about my tongue on your pussy?" He asked, kissing the side of your face and jawline, teasing you with his plush lips. You nod quickly, your breathing now erratic and high-pitched. Toji pulled his finger almost completely out before he reentered your cunt with a second finger, the stretch from his thick fingers making you furrow your eyebrows together, but the discomfort subsided fast.

Toji kept his fingers fully inside you and opted to just curl them rapidly against your g-spot rather than thrust them in and out, resulting in his warm palm pressing firmly against your clit. Your eyes shot open at the intense feeling, your head dropped to watch his hand bulge out from under your shorts. "That feels good huh?" He asked, smiling as your smaller hands gripped tightly around his thick forearm as he got you off. 

"I'm gonna cum-" You cried, your head falling back against his shoulder. Toji repressed the urge to speed up his fingers as he watched you start to unravel on him, his excitement growing the more debauched he watched you get. By now, Toji's entire palm and fingers were covered in your slick, and your panties and shorts were as good as ruined. Just when you thought you were about to get pushed off the edge, an idea popped into Toji's head, resulting in him stopping and pulling his fingers out completely.

You didn't even have time to complain before you were on your back on the sofa and your shorts and panties were being pulled off your legs, and thrown onto the floor to be forgotten about. "Wha-" Toji looked so serious and needy, his cock poking straight out of his pants, looking almost painful. The underside of your thighs was being pushed up as Toji lay between your thighs. He wasted no time in latching his lips around your clit and sucking, hard. 

He placed your legs on his shoulders and kept you firmly against his face with his hand pressing against one of your thighs around his head. You covered your mouth with one hand and gripped his hair harshly with the other, your nails scratching his head as your back arched at the intense pleasure. Toji groaned against you, sending vibrations through your pussy as he shook his head back and forth. You felt that familiar pressure inside of you when Toji slipped his other hand under his mouth and continued fingering you again.

In seconds you were already worked back up to your high. "Fuck!" You yelled behind your hand, your thighs squeezing around his head. "H-haah I'm gonna cum Toji- T-toji- Toji I'm cummin-" The older man smiled against your before he took your clit back in his mouth, shaking his head rapidly as he curled his fingers hard into your g-spot, pulling your orgasm out of you.

Toji's cock throbbed painfully in his boxers when your pussy squeezed around his fingers, feeling like they were going to cut off his circulation. His eyes stayed on your face as he took in the way you looked when you orgasmed, not wanting to miss a single reaction despite how badly his eyes wanted to roll back in his head. "Good fucking girl" Toji growled, squeezing your thigh before he smacked it softly. "You taste so fucking good on my god." Toji groaned in disbelief, sucking your cum off his fingers shamelessly. 

You were still catching your breath when Toji sat up. Your eyes were all out of focus and your body twitching in the aftershocks but you still saw the way Toji jerked himself off through his pants as he sucked your cum off his fingers from the slick on his chin. "I gotta get inside you, I can't take much more." Toji groaned, his wet hand rubbing up and down your thigh. He kept his eyes on yours as you watched him reach into his sweats and pull his cock out. 

Just as you suspected, it was huge. His tip looked so angry and you could see how hard he was throbbing. String after string of pre-cum dripped from the tip of his cock as he spread his wetness down his length, lubing himself up for you. "It's so big, is it gonna fit?" You asked, covering your cunt with your hand as you pressed your thighs together, still breathing heavily. Toji continued to stroke himself off as he climbed over you, his hand caging you under him. "I'll make it fit." He whispered, making you whine.

"Lay on your stomach for me princess, legs together and straight out behind you," Toji instructed. You did as you were told. Your upper half was still clothed in a t-shirt, but your bare ass was exposed to Toji's eyes as you flipped over, pressing your thighs together. Toji reached behind him and grabbed a small decorative pillow. "Knew this stupid shit would come in handy for something," Toji said, laughing to himself as he let go of his cock and lifted your hips off the couch before stuffing the pillow under your pelvis.

"I'll feel better this way," Toji told you as he sat back on his heels, pulling your ass apart to get a better view of your cunt as he jerked off over your ass. "Why?" You asked, resting your head on the side of your crossed arms as you looked at Toji from your peripherals. Toji smiled at you as he leaned over your body, his hips flush against your ass as he rubbed his cock between your cheeks, his hand resting on the couch next to your head.

"You remember that spot I was rubbin' inside you a second ago? The one that made you cum so fast?" Toji teased, making you look away in embarrassment before you nodded, trying to focus on his words instead of his cock rubbing between your ass. "It'll put pressure on your tummy where that spot is, so when I fuck you It'll be pressin' against my cock, makes it feel realll intense," Toji explained as he angled his cock down to the entrance of your pussy, trying to distract you with his words. 

"You think I can handle it?" You asked, suddenly a little nervous. You had already gone dumb just from a few fingers, you had no idea how you were going to react to his cock. Toji pressed the tip of his cock against your tight little hole teasingly, slowly pressing against it to see how much force it would take to fuck into you. "You can handle it because you're my good girl aren't you?" Toji asked, watching your face as he nudged your pussy lips apart, pressing his cock into you.

Your face screwed in pleasure as you nodded, keeping your eyes on his as he slowly fed you his cock. Tears began to well up in your eyes as your jaw fell open in a silent scream. Toji's head felt like it was filled with clouds, your pussy was making him dumb and he was only two inches inside. The older man cooed at your pathetic face before he leaned forward and captured your lips in a messy kiss, immediately forcing his tongue between your lips and into your mouth, overwhelming you.

The two of you groaned into the other's mouth as he penetrated you, finding a little more resistance than he expected even though you had already come once and were so wet and soft inside. "I got you, relax baby girl, gotta loosen up so I can fuck you," Toji whispered between kisses, his voice strained and hoarse as he tried to talk you through it.

Hot tears fell down your cheeks as you did your best to relax your cunt around him, letting him slide in easier. "There you go, I got you, I got you." Toji's words were much softer compared to his mean cock that was bullying your pussy and stretching you open. You slid one of your hands under your tummy between the pillow and pressed against your pelvis. It felt so tight and full. Toji groaned at the added pressure as he gave you a second to adjust to his size. 

"It- It's so big." You said between gasps. "But you took the whole thing," Toji said, pressing his lips to the side of your face. Your walls clenched around him rhythmically, the pain slowly turning into pleasure the more you cockwarmed him. "Ready for me to move?" Toji suggested, more out of his own impatience than anything. He didn't know how much longer he could take feeling you squeeze around him without moving his hips. 

You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut in preparation. "That's my girl." He said before he pulled his hips out and slammed them back against you. From the position and the pressure on your lower stomach, his cock jabbed right into your sweet spot, making you kick your knees up and release a loud moan, one that made Toji lean over your back and press his hand firmly over your mouth. His weight against you felt suffocating but calming as he stayed still, throbbing inside you.

Toji released a small, deep laugh against your ear as your eyes stared at the floor all out of focus. "Shhhhh... you gotta be quiet for me princess. You don't want me to have to stop if we get caught, right?" Toji asked, his voice full of teasing. You shook your head quickly, trying to bounce your hips back into his, your moans and gasps muffled by his hand, now only puffs of air able to escape your nose. 

"Yeah, me neither," Toji whispered against his ear before he started humping into you again, his hips smacking against your ass lewdly with every thrust. If either of the boys even left the sanctity of Megumi's room, the loud sounds of skin slapping together would be heard from down the stairs, giving you away, but Toji didn't care. Not with the way your cunt was sucking him in.

You whined at the loss each time he pulled his cock out of you, but your eyes rolled back in your head as a lewd moan left your lips when he fucked it back inside you, the warmth in your belly returning. Toji could feel himself leak inside your cunt, his balls throbbing with each thrust.

He buried his head in the crook of your neck and wrapped his other hand under your tummy, pressing it against yours that rested against your tummy. "You feel me in there?" Toji groaned into your ear, rolling his hips in circles against your ass as he emphasized his words, making you feel his cock inside you from outside your tummy. You groaned into his hand, your pretty eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling.

"I'm so fucking deep, balls fucking deep." Toji groaned, already pussydrunk as he babbled nonsense while he crushed you with his body weight. His chest was so hot and sweaty against your back as your shirt riding up with each of his thrusts, but his warm skin didnt feel too bad agaisnt your ass. "Mhmm-mhmm" You whined against his hand, nodding your head at his words as hot tears spilled down your cheeks.

"Best fucking pussy I ever had, so warm n' soft, makin' me feel like I'm gonna cum already." Toji laughed, biting down on the shell of your ear. Your knees kicked and curled helplessly behind him each time he fucked his fat cock inside your cunt, overwhelming you. Each time he spoke it made you clench tighter and tighter around him, his voice was even more sexy when he was pussy-drunk. You prayed this wouldn't just be a one-time thing. Now that you finally crossed this line, you hoped it would stay that way.

"Harder-" You moaned against his hand, the plea coming out muffled. "Wan' me to fuck you harder? I can do that for you baby." Toji grinned at your eagerness before he brought his hips back till just the tip of his cock remained inside you then slammed it all in at once, making your eyes roll back in your head. 

He gave you no time to even process his change in roughness before he was beating your pussy up ruthlessly, his cock slamming straight into your sweet spot. You shook your head back and forth against Toji's hand as your eyebrows furrowed and you felt yourself get worked up to yet another orgasm. "Toji!" You screamed against his palm, his name getting broken up between your moans. Toji released your mouth and grabbed your chin, turning your head to the side so he could kiss you again.

He swallowed your moans greedily as he fucked his tongue into your mouth. The kiss was full of teeth and tongue, saliva spilling down your chin from how messy it was. Toji was now panting into your mouth, his hips getting rougher but sloppier as he used your cunt to reach his orgasm. "Toji- Toji I think m' gunna cum!" You whined as he kept kissing you while you spoke, his head completely in the clouds.

"Let me feel it, cum on my cock baby, cmon, cum on me," Toji begged, his voice breathier and needier than before. Your orgasm crashed over you only seconds later, your cunt contracting around Toji ten times tighter than before. He couldn't even mind that you were now moaning freely into the air as his lips detached from yours, his head falling into the crook of your neck as the muscles in his legs trembled from the feeling of you squeezing him.

"Ohmygod." Toji grit through his teeth, his eyes rolling back in his head as you spasmed around him, your cum dripping down his balls. "Gonna cum too pretty, gonna let me cum inside? Get you all full of my cum? Huh?" Toji asked, biting down on your shoulder hard as he waited for your answer. Despite how fucked out you were, you still had half a mind to nod at him, chants of his name falling from your lips as you begged him to cum inside you.

"I'm gonna give it to you baby, fuck- oh fuck it's coming- I'm cumming!" Toji's teeth nearly broke the skin of your shoulder from how hard he bit down as his orgasm hit him. His hips stilled against your ass save for jerking and spasming of his body as he released his seed deep inside your cunt, long, deep groans spilling from between his lips. "Take it, f-fucking take it, milk my fucking cock." Toji groaned.

You felt his abs clenching against your lower back as he emptied his balls inside you, a sudden warmth filling up your tummy as he filled you to the brim with his seed. You both gasped heavily against one another, fighting to catch your breath. "Fuck.." Toji groaned, "Haven't cum that hard in my life, thought I was gonna pass out." He laughed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before pushing his sweaty chest off your back.

Toji sat back on his knees as he pulled out his cock, gripping the base of it as he did. Toji smirked when you whined as he slipped his cock out of you, his cum spilling from your hole as he did. Toji whistled before he spread your ass apart, watching how his cum dripped from your little hole. "Probably shoulda asked before, but you on birth control?" Toji asked before he lifted you from under your arms and laid your limp body against his chest.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and nodded, still trying to come back to reality as you processed what just happened. Toji internally sighed in relief as he wrapped his arms around you, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder. "You did so fucking well pretty girl, it hurt anywhere?" Toji asked, leaning back agaisnt the back of the couch, resting with your body on top of him.

"Hurts everywhere." You mumbled, resulting in a laugh from the older man, the movement from it shaking your body. "Painkillers n' a bath n' you'll be fine." He said, squeezing his arms tighter around you. "You gonna take responsibility?" You asked, your voice coming out weak against his shoulder. "If you're asking me to join you in the bath, sure, but no promises my cock won't end up inside you again."

You grimaced at his words, sitting up as you place your hands on his pecs, shaking your head back and forth as your cunt started aching already. "On second thought I think I can do it myself," Toji smirked before he tipped his head to the side on the couch, looking you up and down. "Twenty bucks you fall in the first five seconds you stand up." You pursed your lips in annoyance, flexing your thighs under him to see if he was right.

Your thighs shook the instant you tensed them, and not just a little either. The kind of shake that told you you needed 5-7 business days before you were walking without a limp. Toji looked down at you shaking legs before he glanced up at you from under his lashes, looking at you with an "I told you so" expression on his face. "Let me borrow one of your canes please." You said, pressing your lips together. Toji gripped your chin and brought your face close to his. "Brat." He whispered against your lips before kissing you slowly and passionately.

Your body melted against him as he kissed you like it was your last day on earth. Although the kiss was slower than the others he'd given you, it still made you go dumb in the head as his tongue intertwined with yours. The kiss made you forget all the aches in pains in your body as his expert tongue washed them all away.

[ubeb0nes]

Getting jealous (AGAIN) as Sevika's girlfriend...

you just can't catch a break, huh? your fault for falling in love with this absolute lady-killer

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a/n: ever since i remembered i have free will and can post all my sevika goblin thoughts i have been cooking entire posts up in like under an hour, somebody please help me LMAO

i had too many ideas for the jealous!reader, so here's another. i picture this as being my pit fighter!reader characterization, so do with that what you will :33

it isn't that you hate absolutely anybody looking at Sevika at all

like, you get it. and a part of you loves that everyone else can see just as clearly as you how absolutely captivating she is.

BUT IT GETS TO A POINT-

After the incident with the girl at the bar, Sevika does her best to make sure that you don't feel neglected in public. She slips, of course she does, but she does try like hell

It typically goes that anybody who approaches her, flat out doesn't acknowledge you. it's a by-product of how she's so non-PDA that it slips the mind of these thirsty women that she's even in a relationship

You, being a practical and results-driven individual, remedy this by being a little bolder in public every now and then

Nowadays, Sevika doesn't usually object. She understands why you're doing it now, and she's getting tired of the would-be homewreckers coming onto her too lol

You'll cup her cheek, give her a firm but quick kiss whenever you bring a drink over to her while she's in a game of cards. Come up beside her at the bar and rest your hand on her hip for a while (she fucking loves this one, she won't tell you though)

From then on, people start to get the message. If anybody's heartbroken over it, they become less inclined to showing it

So, you almost want to believe you're imagining things when you clock someone from across the bar who seems to keep giving you the stink eye

you're not dumb

you can see the way she's gesturing between you and Sevika to her friends, shaking her head in disgust. now that's a new one...

Sevika has her human arm over your shoulder while this is happening, the other holding onto her hand of cards. She looks over at you when you pluck the cigarillo out from her fingers and take a drag of your own in distress. She's deeply amused by this

"Okay, baby?" "Mhm. Peachy." You were not peachy. The hell did you do to deserve that look?

For a second Sevika thinks you're mad at her, frowning and angling her body towards you (she notices Ran trying to sneak a look at her cards as she does, and bucks playfully at them). Her eyes flick up to follow your line of vision, and then she understands

She chuckles under her breath.

"You could take her in a fight, princess."

oh, and don't you know it. You shake away the thought though, not wanting to escalate the situation in your head in the case that it's actually not at all what you think it is, and then you look stupid

You ask Sevika if she wants another whiskey and she declines, so you get up to just get yours. You're minding your business by the bar, trying to not grace that table with any more glances when that bites you in the ass as a shoulder checks yours

of course, it's the girl. I guess it wasn't in your head

You make eye contact with her when she looks over her shoulder at you and scoffs, shaking her head. You don't look away even as the bartender slides your drink into your hand

now, you have some options here. most of them include violence to some degree. you're contemplating them all as you're walking back to Sevika, eyes straight ahead

then you catch a few choice words from her table; something, something, "-can she fight..." you don't hear the rest, but does it really matter?

you stop in your tracks. you glance up at your girlfriend who didn't see what happened earlier but is watching you now, brow raised and mouthing what's wrong?

at this point, i don't think this even counts as jealousy, you're just defending your woman's honor

you give her a shake of your head that says don't worry (and now she's definitely worrying), and turn on your heel and make a beeline for the bitch's table

Sevika is about to get up to back you up- for whatever the situation may be- when she sees your posture as you stand over the girl from earlier.

Ran stops her though, grinning from ear to ear. "Let your girl have this, Sev. I wanna see her beat ass." Sevika scoffs, but tentatively sits back down. She trusts your judgement. Whatever your call is-

oh, you're smashing your glass over the girl's head. Ran gives a loud whoop

"You wanna take her from me? Go ahead, try," you'd said while Ran was talking Sevika down. The smile on your face was near-manic. "See what she does when you put your hands on me."

It's not like this woman was exactly tiny or helpless-looking; most in Zaun strived to be neither. But Sevika hadn't been lying when she said you could take her.

It was not a memo she'd received, though.

You couldn't recall what exactly she'd said, but you do know your mind reached an immediate state of singularity when she said she'd kill you before Sevika could do anything about it.

BET

"Goddammit-" Sevika barks out your name as she shoots up from her chair. Ran is doubled over with laughter

She's deceptively fast for her height, and thank fucking god for it. Her human arm wraps around your waist like a vise, pulling you back with ease

She would've been cutting up right with Ran in any other circumstance, given the way you were stancing on the now-dazed woman, fists clenched and shoulders shrugged up like an angry big cat

"Down, girl," she mutters to you. Her lips quirk up at the way you shift your jaw around, obviously still pissed off and ready to scrap

"I was defending your honor." "Mhm. What would I do without you, huh?"

Sevika's in front of you when the woman scrambles up out of her seat to retaliate. Sevika towers over the both of you, and you're nearly completely hidden behind her now as she glares at the woman

"You don't wanna fight her, much less me. Go ahead and clear off."

Maybe jealousy isn't as accurate of a term for you as territorial. You've got nothing to be jealous of, not with how fiercely devoted Sevika is at every turn

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.