#and then they wonder why they can’t get or keep anyone to work at the fucking dmv

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Sometimes I feel like us as the bat family fandom forget how starry eyed people get about Nightwing canonically.

Because with the exception of early era Tim most of the Batkids are like. lol that’s my loser older brother or some variation of yeah…he’s some guy I guess? He helps me with homework?

And Nightwing is the canonically a center of multiversal light.

When Heroes meet Nightwing they do the vigorous handshake and the “it’s an honor to meet you sir, I have heard so much about you oh my god”

There are so many character where they are literally shown giggling and kicking their feet whenever Nightwing talks to them.

Even the people who don’t have the celebrity level worship of him respect the hell out of him and call him as soon as they need help.

From raven to Starfire to Superman to Superboy to all or the flashes there is so much respect and awe given to this one dude.

And it is deserved

But imagine you are Damian Wayne and you’ve been working with what 90% of the people you’ve met (all bats) have been calling an embarrassment to your father’s legacy.

Your mother hates him and your Grandfather doesn’t feel that strongly about him.

The red hood calls him an embarrassment and a coward and he couldn’t even keep Red Robin from running away.

Your father tells him that he never should have been Batman

And you’ve worked with him and you know what you think everyone is full of shit about him and you and him the new Batman and Robin are the best no matter what anyone says.

And fuck it the fact he keeps going in a suit that everyone tells him he’s not good enough for is scratching something in your brain that you’re refusing to acknowledge because why would you feel that way? You are the circus freak have nothing in common (shut up)

And then you meet the justice league and all the extended teams.

And people are falling over themselves to listen to a word out of your brothers, your Batman’s mouth. They wait for a nod or headshake and dictate decades worth of planning on it.

Both Drake and Todd’s hero teams ask him for advice with or without their designated bats presence.

The man of steel asks for child rearing advice and wonder woman cracks a joke about a spar

Newer heroes whisper about him in the halls

He’s literally your favorite hero’s favorite hero

And it’s breaking Damian’s Brain

Because well… he kinda gets slapped around in Gotham. He’s the butt of half the jokes the other Batkids make and Dick just smiles and takes it.

The rogues have a bounty on nightwings ass and he gets leered at by goons, rogues, civilians and anti-hero’s alike and he doesn’t say anything.

He lets oracle crack jokes about a pretty face and having to do everything herself

Let’s Jason run the alley despite the fact that apparently he knows how to take it back

Apparently he’s had 12 people tailing Drake since Paris and despite being the man Ra’s Al Ghul calls detective has yet to notice. (Because you can’t tell me Dick was just magically at the right place to catch Tim falling to his death on coincidence)

And necessary to peace talks because he’s the best they have at deescalation

Like imagine you are a child who was raised to believe power is this obvious, all consuming thing. That the ones who control the board are visibly larger than life figures who fought their way to the top and cling to power by even the thinnest hangnail if they had to.

People who ignore simpler morals or an overall greater goal or good

And then you’re taken in by the man who whispers the correct answers into the larger than life figures ear.

Like I feel like that would have such an impact because Dick didn’t take power from anyone to reach his goals, it’s why his siblings don’t really defer to him unless in crisis.

Dick didn’t take power, no people just looked at him and decided he was the best option to give it to.

Everyone basically looked at this kid and went, yeah you’re the future of all heroism.

And if that dude can’t even get Bruce Wayne’s respect what chance does Damian Wayne have

[kumabeom]

saudade love 🫧

seventeen : i can do it with a broken heart

synopsis : actress!yn and actor!soobin are forced by their companies to date as a publicity stunt to promote their latest releases. however what’s to happen when yn and soobin spend more and more time together even though yn’s closest friend is keeping secrets.

my sweet love, yn, how i love you oh so very much. how i wish to wake up to your warmth every day. every single day is so worth living, because im able to see you everyday. how you melt away all my problems with your warmth that is stronger than the sun. how you pull me into a hug and i can automatically feel your radiant heat. i feel like im in heaven when i am in your arms.

it’s not that i want you, which i do, but it’s that i need you.

you’re the joy in my life. the reason that im able to go to sleep and wake up without a singular worry in my mind.

but sometimes you’re the reason for my sleepless nights.

the nights that i spend thinking about you. thinking about what we can do together on an adventure with each other.

we’ve spent so much time together, originally it was something i didn’t want. something that you didn’t want. because we both thought we would ruin our lives by going with what our hearts wanted. was it so wrong to love the person i worked with? what if the company found out and they were unhappy with our decision? would be forced to break up?

relationships, all relationships are full of questions. the future is full of questions. at times you’ll question to yourself if you even feel happy with me by your side.

and i won’t be upset if you one day decide to leave my side, why would i be? your future is yours and my future is mine. but for my future, i always want to see you happy. if it’s with me or not.

this all sounds like im trying to part ways with you, but im not. of course not. not when you’re the person i love the most in the world.

when you’re the person who keeps me going. the person who i can always go to when things are not going so well.

my love.

you will always be my love. want to spend every moment with you. want to cherish your love. want to bathe in your warmth.

it’s all so selfish.

to want you. to need you.

but i can’t deny it any longer.

you’re my true one and only.

i know it. and i don’t have any doubts about it.

how can someone like you not be my one and only.

and you’re so unique, i’ll never find anyone in the world like you, yn.

all i need.. is you.

i’m reminded of your love every morning that i wake up and see the flowers that you get me on my desk, fully basking in the sunlight. the second i wake up and there’s a good morning message as soon as i open my phone. when you burst into my room right after i respond, and we just cuddle in bed for a while.

you always wondered why i used to comfort you so much when your alleged scandals were reported by the media..

yn, i always did that.. i always wanted to be by your side because i felt like you didn’t deserve the amount of negative attention you were getting. false accusations, lies, they have the power to ruin you, to ruin everything.

yn, i really love you. i always will.

i promise to you that i’ll always be by your side. i’ll always be the person you can turn to when you need a hug, or when you’re having a bad day. i’ll be that person. i want you to be happy. i promise to make you happy. to continue all the loving acts that i hope are enough to make you feel loved.

i promise myself to you, yn.

oh it was so ironic. the way soobin was now remembering his little ‘speech’ that he was going to use. a red velvet box in his pocket, special necklace inside of it. soobin made it back into your shared apartment, he knew you weren’t there, probably off with yeonjun, already moving on from him.

soobin didn’t want to let his mind wander on you too much. he didn’t want to feel pain from your departure, he was the one who brought it up, and you were the one who betrayed him. he didn’t even try to give himself a chance to miss him, no because why would he miss the person who hurt him so so much.

he placed the box on the coffee table. sitting himself on the couch, the same couch that he had spent with you, the first time that the two of you watched ‘10 things i hate about you’ together. fuck. he hasn’t meant to reminisce on his memories with you. he quickly got up from the couch, entering the restroom, washing off his makeup to remove the icky feeling of it.

you, on the other hand, were also not doing so well. yes, you had turned to yeonjun for help, but it wasn’t anything that wasn’t out of the ordinary. the two of you were friends, and only friends. you knew that and he knew that, the two of you had been friends for so so long that it nearly felt like you were siblings.

you laid your head back, hitting yeonjun’s couch, no matter how many times he asked you to sleep in his bed, you always declined. a thin yet soft blanket covered your body, as much as yeonjun wanted to offer you comfort, you told him that you would rather just go to sleep. yeonjun was smarter than to fall for your bluff, he walked into the dark room, laying down on his loveseat and covering himself with the blanket that he dragged from his room.

your staring contest with the ceiling ended, turning on your side to face yeonjun.

“isn’t it crazy..?” yeonjun speaks up, a tiny smirk on his face, not that you could even see it, it was nearly pitch black. the only reason you even noticed he was walking in the room was because of the very small creak in the floor.

“what is ?” you questioned, yeonjun couldn’t help but sit up, hoping to get a few words out of you.

“i don’t know.. i was just hoping you would spill what happened…”

“you know you could’ve just asked..” you felt your silk pajamas, a pair that you always left at yeonjun’s place in the case of an emergency movie night, beginning to stick to you as you began to feel a little warm. typically when you had a serious deep conversation with yeonjun, you always got nervous, that feeling always occurred because you knew you would have a break down due to whatever the topic was that you would feel so sad.

“what’s wrong, yn? what happened between you and soobin.” yeonjun questioned, taking your advice to ask you straightforwardly, even though you had rejected his request a few hours ago.

“i think.. well i kinda know, i know that yeji set us up.. remember when i said that yeji told me that you needed me..” yeonjun hummed in response, remembering the situation clearly. “well.. you didn’t.. but she took the chance to spew whatever nonsense to soobin.. and at first i kinda understood that maybe whatever she said might’ve gotten to his head.. he was saying that he knows that you and i are a thing, and i turned it down.. and i wanted to be so so patient, but i couldn’t. and at one point i just kind of gave up, i just got really mad and i told him that if he wanted to end our whole relationship then he could’ve just said so.. and then he did..” you felt your eyes beginning to sting, a small sigh leaving your lips after you finished.

“and i don’t know if he really did want to end it, i don’t know if i was maybe being too harsh, or if maybe he just believed whatever yeji told him.. but i also think that, why would he believe yeji.. yeji who had always seemed to know where we were, the same yeji who barged into his trailer that one day, yeji who has been spreading fake rumors about me..”

yeonjun felt his heart drop, he wasn’t sure if what you had been saying was true or if you were just saying something due to your anger. “yn, what do you mean?”

“yeonjun… isn’t it so obvious that it’s yeji..? all of this started when i got with soobin, when we announced our relationship..”

“yn, that doesn’t mean anything, surely you’ve just got things mixed up.. yeji is our bestfriend and i’m nearly sure that she wouldn’t be spreading fake rumors about you..”

“yeonjun.. i get it, but she told soobin something, she’s capable of anything.. she’s not my bestfriend.. not anymore.. not after what she just did. and my whole situation with soobin, she 100% orchestrated that.. there’s no doubt about it at all.” yeonjun sighed, he agreed with you for the most part, except for this whole yeji rumor situation. originally yeonjun was going to tell you that yeji wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, so why would she spread false rumors, but to be honest, he was also certain that soobin was misled by yeji. it didn’t mean that yeonjun felt bad for soobin, afterall he did watch as you internally struggled; attempting to deal with the heartbreak without letting a smile leave your face until yeonjun dragged you to his place.

“yeonjun.” you whispered, he could hear your voice beginning to tremble, this was the beginning. the beginning of your heartbreak, the first few signs that you were truly going through something. the questions placed in your head, the doubts, the worry.. yeonjun hummed once again, letting you know that he was still listening. “we are just friends right ? we’ve never done anything that is weird or inappropriate in stance of our friendship..”

“yn, we are not the problem. you are not the problem. there is nothing we have ever done to seem like we are even remotely interested in each other in a romantic way. if soobin wants to project his insecurities he can. but yn, you’re like a sister to me and i don’t want to ruin our bond because soobin and yeji decided to play games and mess around.” yeonjun was right. the two of you had multiple of boundaries to ensure a sibling like relationship that wouldn’t hurt anyone. neither you or him. you’ve never had feeling for yeonjun.

you hadn’t ever seen him in that kind of light, yeonjun had a moment where he questioned his friendship with you, but that time he realized that you were more than just his friend, rather you were like his sister.

you pulled up the blanket up to your chin. “thank you, jun.. thanks for letting me stay.. and for getting me out of the party, and thanks for always listening to me..”

yeonjun let out an exasperated sigh, “to think he wanted to replace me, but he can’t even listen to you, it’s what i do best.. i literally majored in psychology.”

“.. no you didn’t..” you responded, small giggle leaving your lips as you heard yeonjun’s white lie. that was the reaction he wanted, he wanted to hear you laugh, he didn’t want to see you going through such a rough heartbreak. he knew you had to at some point during your life, but he wanted to help alleviate the sadness you would go through.

you found yourself exactly in the situation that you wanted to avoid. heart throbbing as if it was about to explode, shaky breath. you were sitting next to soobin, on your way to a joint photoshoot. you were nearly 100 percent sure that your staff could sense something was wrong, the lack of affection the two of you were having. not to mention the complete silence in the long car ride. the staff caught on as soon as they saw your bloodshot eyes, soobin’s hand not trying to find its way into yours, even when the two of you were exhausted, you always found away to still show each other love. oh something was definitely wrong with you two.

you weren’t sure if it was the tickle from the brush that was touching up against your cheek, or if it was genuinely the stinging in your heart that was making your eyes water. a tiny tear rolling down your cheek, and soobin saw it from across the room, his hands in the pockets of the suit he was wearing, the same suit he wore on the saudade love movie night. and unfortunately your were wearing the same blue dress that caused your itchy reaction that night.

“oh yn!” the mention of your name brought your attention back to the entire scene, suddenly feeling the wet tear on your cheek as more threatened to spill. your makeup artist rushing to grab a fan, blowing the air into your face, catching you a bit off guard. the tear dissipated, your artist rushing to fix any mistakes that were made. “are you okay? you’ve been out of it this entire time..” you just nodded in response, a tiny reaffirming smile appearing on your lips before leaving nearly immediately. “it’s not the dress, is it? i told the stylists and the company to not force you into it again, but you know how they get..”

“n-no, the dress is okay for now. i think it’s just good to be quick about this shoot..” and just by the sound of your voice anybody could tell that you wanted to cry. your red eyes had also been a bit of a sign that you had been crying, but nobody really wanted to comment on it, afterall the editors would find a way to make you look fine.

“you’re all set !” you whispered a quick thank you, walking over to the white screen, no color anywhere in the room. soobin quickly joined your side, pretending to help you with your dress, spreading it out beautifully.

“can you maybe not?” you whispered, trying your best to keep up a good look. pretending to smile with pure joy at soobin.

“do you have a better idea? we’re dating and as much as i hate to be doing this stuff, i’d like to keep it professional..” soobin kept a clear face, trying his best not to show any emotions. he was upset, the way his narrative was working, the fact that you had the nerve to be the one who seemed so upset.

by the end of the shoot, you were nearly so sure that you were going to have a breakdown any second. furrowed eyebrows as you walked into a closet, finding only yourself and your clothes in there. although you found yourself suddenly pressing your ear against the locked door, hearing your name mentioned.

“was it just me? or did it look like soobin and yn were so.. i don’t know.. but something definitely happened. soobin was like upset the entire time and yn looked like she was about to cry every other second..”

“you don’t think they broke up? do you?” another voice chimed in.

“i don’t know, but as actors, theyre not that good at acting…”

“girl, if you broke up with your lover would you be okay? if you would be then that’s kinda crazy, but either way, somethings you can’t just pretend you’re okay.”

“all i’m saying is that, they’re in a fake relationship either way so it shouldn’t be that bad..”

“fake relationship? you believed that?”

“of course i do, love is one of those things that you can’t act about, and they don’t do a good job ‘loving’ each other.”

“please, honestly i just think you’re jealous.” you finished listening in on the conversation, changing into your clothes, deciding to fully dedicate your job and put your emotions aside. you stepped out from the changing room, accidentally scaring the staff crew that were walking down the hallway. suddenly keeping they seemed uptight, although you just shared a genuine smile with them.

“thank you so much for your hard work..” you gave them a small yet sweet bow, moving past them and attempting to find soobin, noticing him with your manager. you practically skipped your way towards him, your hand immediately finding his, soobin swore that he must’ve missed out on a whole episode of some kind of drama.. why had you been acting like you were actually happy with him..? like you were still dating, i mean you were, just not in the sense that the two of you used to be. your hand in his, his hand held in both of your hands. your manager, kept talking to soobin before deciding to give the two of you some space.

“can you let go, your hands are clammy..” soobin spoke up, before being met with pure rejection.

“no, i cant.. everybody is catching on..” you replied in a dull tone..

©️kumabeom

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[yourheartinyourmouth]

we borrowed money like five months ago from one of husbeast’s friends for car repairs.

the money from my cashed out pension FINALLY came in (three months late, of course. yay state bureaucracy bullshit) and we JUST FINISHED PAYING HIM BACK AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, omegaverse, forced bonding, subjugation, some type of discrimination, elements of androgyny

♡ fem reader

Thinking about the big and burly behemoth Omega finally finding himself the cutest little Alpha to breed with…

He could never bring himself to breed with Alphas. Growing up, he developed a great disdain for them—all high and mighty rabid animals prone to violence, more often than not completely dimwitted to top it off, as if their massive ego had usurped the place of basic brain operation.

He couldn’t hate them more, yet he doesn’t correct anyone when they mistake him for one, either. In many ways, he wished he was born one instead of an Omega. It would make it easier to fulfill his desires that way. A dominant Omega isn’t all that normal, after all—and submissive Alphas are an even rarer breed to come by.

He hadn't found one yet. And other Omegas don’t really do it for him. They approach him, thinking he’s an Alpha, then feel disappointed when figuring out he’s not—which is fine, as he isn’t particularly interested in their scent either. Betas make for an okay compromise—they don’t care if he’s an Omega, it makes no difference to them—yet he could never really shake the feeling that something was missing when lying with them.

At the office, the scent of Alphas plagues him all day—how they strut around, stinking up the place with no concern for anyone else. This is a workplace, for fuck’s sake—can’t they have a little dignity and not treat it like a mating ground? He really hates them. All bigheaded assholes—

“Ow—” there’s bark and a hard thunk of something hitting the floor.

Someone just bumped into him—someone so small he hadn’t even seen them over the top of his clipboard. Looking down, he sees a fellow Omega—a pretty one. You must be as disoriented by the scent around you as he is—probably why you walked right into him—poor thing. He ought to help you up.

You hold your head in your hand, wincing at the sting of your rear—you’d fallen right on your tailbone. Looking up, you give the fellow Alpha who’d knocked you down a mean glare, “What the hell, asshole!”

His outstretched hand stiffens midway. That’s not a very Omega-like thing to say—especially not by one so small as you. No, wait… what’s that scent?

You ignore his hand and get up on your own, dusting down your pin-stripes with angry brushes—face pursed, almost pouty, but not quite, too stink-eyed as you lean in and jab a finger into his chest to punctuate your words, “Watch where you’re going next time, you…”

You soften up halfway through the sentence. It must have dawned on you as well. His scent. Not like other Alphas, but something else entirely—something that suddenly makes you blush all over, wide-eyed.

You don’t say another word, only giving a weak huff before turning tail and stomping away.

There’s something very cute about it—he’s left thinking while watching you, utterly stunned and still, replaying the events that just occurred over and over in his head—wondering how he’d never seen you before. You must work on a different floor.

Luckily, he’d made sure to read your name tag—pinned all properly on your chest like a badge of honor, neatly like the rest of you. Well put together from the top of your salon-styled hair down to the tips of your pointy black stilettos. Even with their added height, you must have been two heads shorter than him—no taller than any regular Omega.

It's no wonder he mistook you for one. You were as cute as one, too—like a doll he could put behind glass, up on a mantle, and keep forever. But oh my… that mouth on you and that awful snarl. Just like any other imposing Alpha, he supposed. Bratty and arrogant, quick to jump the gun and pick a fight instead of taking it for the simple accident it was.

He goes back and sets himself down by his desk—but he’s way too distracted to work now, too busy with the thought of you. That flushed face you showed him before teetering off was something he wouldn’t mind seeing again—also that cute scowl under certain circumstances and what type of expression you’d give him if he wiped it off.

He's lucky an office party came along so quickly. He wouldn’t usually go, but now he had a reason. He bet you’d be there—the way you were dressed when you’d bumped into him tells him you’re one to respect the memo—head to toe in such a neat suit, trying to come off as androgynous as if in desperation needing everyone to know you were an Alpha. It must be hard for you—looking like that but wanting to look… well, suppose more like him.

He's glad he never felt that way—wishing to be smaller and cuter like other Omegas. Sure, he’s been envious of them at times, but more so of their easy pickings and not their appearance. He’s happy being bigger and stronger—it keeps unwanted attention at bay. You probably struggle to do the same. He bets you get a lot of the wrong eyes following you. Yeah… you must attract the bad sort all the time—alphas swarming you only to catch your scent and lose interest. Or maybe not… Alphas are sick, after all. Come to think of it, most of them would probably get off on dominating another Alpha. In that regard, it must have been worse for you than for him. Luckily, both of your issues are now solved.

He wondered what you’d wear tonight. You’d look much better in something feminine and not that suit you’d been wearing. He hopes, but no, you’re wearing much the same thing—another tailored two-piece that all but drowns you.

He understands what you’re going for. You have to dress like that, or else what Omega would ever want you looking the way you do? Aside from him, of course.

No matter. When you move in with him, he’ll dress you in all the pretty things he knows you want to wear. After all, pretty colors, ruffles, and lace will suit you so much better.

“Hello again.” He approaches you by the hors d’oeuvres even after you’d visibly and explicitly chosen to ignore him.

You groan under your breath, responding without even bothering to look at him, “Do I know you?”

Your tough act is cute. He has to withhold a chuckle before answering, “Don’t remember? You called me an asshole a week ago.”

“You walked right into me, so it’s not like it wasn’t deserved.”

You have to love that arrogance—that air of unfounded superiority. He wonders, where do you keep it all? “Well, how could I not? You’re so small I didn’t even see you.”

You’re quick to bare your teeth—obviously, he hit a nerve—showing him that same snarl you’d done back then. Cute little canines—he bet they won’t even hurt going into his neck once you mark him.

“Watch your mouth, Omega.”

Still, with a small smile, he feigns surprise. “Wow—are you an Alpha? Funny, I didn’t know they came in such tiny packages.”

It flusters you, no doubt—your brows lowered into a full glower now. “And I didn’t know Omegas could be so rude.”

You turn to stomp again, as you’d done before—though this time, he grabs your arm before you’re gone.

You whip around with another bark, “Hands off—"

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes unexpectedly, giving you puppy-dog eyes you hadn’t thought him capable of. “I should have been more mindful of my steps. It was entirely my fault.”

You go still at the sudden show of humility and respect. Finding yourself softening by the tilt of his head, bowing at you in acknowledgment of your higher standing. Not that many bother doing that to you—between mistaking you for an Omega or otherwise neglecting your standing as an Alpha, both due to your physique. Seeing it up close and so abruptly flusters you.

“Let me get you a drink to make up for it?” he offers politely, almost in plead.

Struck with feelings of somewhat regret for your own uncouth attitude, you nearly accept on a whim. “That’s kind…” But then think it over. You don’t really want to lead him on, either. You nearly stutter, yet steal yourself. After all… “But you’re not really my type.”

He hangs his head with a dejected sigh, “That’s harsh.” But he’d already figured as much and didn’t really care. Giving you his most sorry grin, he insists, “Humor me anyway? Just one drink so I don’t feel like an asshole for the rest of my life.”

It’s clear you want to refuse—still, as suspected, your heart just can’t handle seeing a desperate Omega in need. Bless your dim Alpha instincts.

“Okay, fine. One drink, that’s all,” you end up agreeing. One drink can’t hurt, right?

You feel like a good Samaritan once the big hunk of an Omega runs off to fetch you a glass. Pitying him or even sympathizing, maybe—it can’t be easy for an Omega in the mating scene to look like that. No Alpha around would want an Omega bigger than them—it’s utterly emasculating, not to mention unnatural.

Of course, you’re aware you’re in much the same shoes as him—you’re not delusional. Only, it’s easy being an independent Alpha—you don’t mind being a lone wolf in the world—but Omegas were built to be domestic. So yeah, you pity him—the poor guy, he’ll probably never find a proper mate.

But you can’t let your pity grant him too many favors—you have no intention of taking on any charity case tonight, especially not a pity fuck. You’ll have one drink with him as a mutual apology. That’s all.

Luckily… one drink is all he needs. Add a little sprinkle of this and that in your glass, and you’re already in the palm of his hand.

He has to carry you bridal style before he’s even managed to lead you to the elevator—it’s empty all the way down to the garage. He puts you in his car, locks your seatbelt in place, then drives off. It’s honestly quite astounding how easy it had been. He’d thought trapping an Alpha would be a much more remarkable feat, an impossible one for an Omega—but this was no different from eating an unguarded piece of cake.

You’re drowsy as he carries you into his apartment. And that’s when the other drug kicks in. The overwhelming scent of being inside his nest sets off your rut like a matchstick being ripped along the red.

Your claws come out, puncturing his sheets as he lays you down on his bed.

You’re too delirious to do much but writhe—making it easy for him to unbutton your dress shirt, followed by your slacks. He has to scoff at your plain black boxers and binder bra. You poor thing, always trying to run with the big dogs when you’re no bigger than a bite-sized puppy. From now on, you’ll only wear lacey things he brings home for you. You won’t have to puff your chest—you can be as sweet and pretty as your delicate physique constitutes—his cutest, littlest, most perfect mate.

You gain newfound strength once he’s peeled your underwear down, baring your needy heat to his touch. Instantly, your arms spring into action, flinging themselves around him, pouncing like a predator at its prey with your fangs bared.

He stops you easily—placing his wrist between your teeth, using it as a muzzle. He chuckles, looking at you gnaw on it like a bone.

“I think the world has it all wrong,” he starts, though he’s not sure you’re even capable of understanding speech in your state. “Omegas are the ones better suited as leaders of society, not Alphas.”

As he talks, he continues with his ministrations, stroking your needy slit with a mean finger, swiping it cruelly before splitting between the folds.

“I mean, look at you—mindless in a rut, willing to pounce on anything that moves—like a wild animal.” Once he sticks his finger inside you, your teeth do his wrist the same justice—drawing blood, making him hiss through his smile, “I ought to keep you in a cage.” And yet he doesn’t pull either hand away. “It would suit you well—on your knees with a pretty leash and collar upon your throat.”

You’re wet in his hand—soaked and so warm he loses track of his own finger as if melting within you. His cock strains against his boxer, wanting to feel it for himself. But you’re still way too tight for that.

He feeds you another digit, and you moan—suckling on his wrist now more than biting, though still with your canines out and seeking.

“Look at these wittle teeth, tch—” he grins upon closer inspection, looking between them and your eyes—pupil-fat orbs, far gone in your instincts. “I bet they’re just itching for my neck instead, huh?”

The provocation seems to make you more desperate. Pumping you slowly, more so to stretch you out than stimulate, he can feel your breaths turn thicker with need, how you press your tongue against his wrist, wet and lousy, wanting for more.

“Well, go on then, Alpha...” He chuckles again, removing his arm from barring your mouth before wrapping your throat with the same hand, holding it like a collar, keeping you under control.

And then he bares his neck for you.

“I give my consent.”

♡ part two

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira, Isagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[ceilidho]

prompt: simon notices you in the stands (welder/amateur rugby player au). (nsfw, 1.9k)

-

She’s in the stands again, and he doesn’t know who for. 

The same bird as the time before, and the week before that. Always a few minutes into the match, like she snuck in through the backdoor. She always leaves in a hurry, up and out of her seat with her jacket already tugged on, her strides quick on her way out the main doors. 

In the years since joining this amateur league, Simon’s never been tempted to talk to any of the people in the stands. For the most part, they’re there for one of the other players anyway. Wives, girlfriends, sisters—the odd cousin or fuck buddy, those girls dipping in and out, replaced by newer, sparklier versions of each other, the older ones licked clean. 

His focus narrows when he steps onto the field anyway, shrinks like horse blinders sunk down over his skull. Hardly a reason for him to spare more than a glance towards the stands.

Rugby’s not a sport for spectators. At least, not such a low level league. Barely amateur—just some of the locals with a bit of built up stress and aggression to work off. It’s why he’s here after all. Simon spends the hours of his day hunched over sheets of metal and carbon steel, sweating into the metal mask pulled down over his face and staring without blinking into the heart of the flame just inches from his face. 

His nerves are a closed fist in his chest and it grows and grows until he steps out onto the field of the local rec centre and hears the timer overhead start to count down and feels someone’s chest cave in when he drives his shoulder into their solar plexus, hears the breath whoosh out of them, their next breath in thin and febrile. 

It sets his head right. Violence with no consequences. At the end of the game, he looks the man he just bruised and bloodied in the eye and shakes his hand. Puts the world to rights. 

And he needs nothing more than that. His bills are paid, bloodthirst sated, thirst quenched when the team hits up a pub after the match, after which he slinks off into the night to head home with his hood drawn over his head, the size of him rarely inviting more violence. Occasionally it happens that someone with the bad luck of choosing him to mug wants to prove that they have the bigger cock, but that never ends well. Not for them at least.

Simon would fight for a living if welding paid him less. As it is, he satiates that beast in him on the field or the occasional back alley, and it keeps him in check.

But now there’s a bird in the stands drawing his eye and distracting him from the match. It rubs him the wrong way. The blood pumps through his veins more viciously, and the pretty thing in the stands watches the game completely unaware, a serene smile on her face. His gaze keeps being pulled towards where she and a couple clusters of fans sit and nurse paper cups of tea.

She cups both hands around her tea and he wonders absently whether she’d have to hold his cock the same way. 

It’s Gaz who calls him out on it first, panting hard after the first period and frowning at the scoreboard. “Not to be a dick, but that was bollocks, Simon. Never seen you miss a pass like that.”

Few people could get away with speaking to him like that, but Gaz is right. He’s been playing like shit, too preoccupied by the bird watching him with wide, rapt eyes. 

He doesn’t know how to apologise though, so he doesn’t. “Graves is a useless twat. Can’t throw for shit.”

Gaz rolls his eyes. “Not saying he isn’t, but you’re distracted. Where’s your head at?”

“Stay out of it, Garrick,” he says, not even bothering to meet his gaze, the warning clear in his voice. 

“Sorry for caring,” Gaz shouts after him as Simon jogs away.

He asks around at first, trying to find out if she’s someone’s relative or girl, but all the guys just shrug, no answers. If she’s someone’s, they aren’t staking a claim on her. It’s good news for him. Bad news for anyone else taking an interest in the girl that comes to their every match to cheer them on.

His urges sit deeper than the abyssal plain.

She’d probably turn tail and run if she knew the hunger festering in his belly. She sits sweet and innocent in the stands cheering him on and all Simon can think about is pushing her knees up to her ears and feeding his fat cock into her pussy. Shoving his tongue into her cunt, licking her from hole to hole. Sucking each puffy lip into his mouth until her moans go garbled, eyes unfocused. 

No, Simon thinks when she jumps to her feet enthusiastically at the end of the match, she probably wouldn’t like that. Women rarely do. Objectifying them and all those other terms that Gaz likes to wax on about, Johnny nodding along like he isn’t the same kind of mutt as Simon. 

Even during the day, she troubles his thoughts. Troublemaker. He thinks of her when he cleans and buffs in between passes, mind not lulled into the rhythmic emptiness of usual. Even the sound of steel sizzling in his ears doesn’t clear her from his thoughts. Instead all he can think of is her walking into the shop in a little skirt and top, and dragging her to the back where he’d bend her over the closest desk and pull her panties to the side before sinking in to the hilt, mask still on. 

He’s never gotten his cock wet on the job—never been tempted to. For her though, he’d make an exception. 

By the next match, Simon’s made up his mind. When he sees her sneak in after the match has already started, he feels his blood pump harder, his tackles extra rough. His opponents walk away wincing and cursing him under their breath, but it only makes him preen when he glances over to find her watching him, hardly able to pull her eyes away. Price would call it peacocking. He wouldn’t be wrong. 

He approaches her himself at the end of the match before she’s had time to pack up and leave, leaning over the railing separating the field from the stands, covered in sweat and grass stains and bleeding from his right eyebrow.

She stares up at him wide eyed, looking a little lost for words. “Hi?”

“Got somewhere to be?” he asks, blunt. He’s never had it in him for pleasantries. Why waste time when he can see even now the way her eyes rove over his chest appreciatively? 

“…No,” she finally answers, shaking her head. “Just home for supper.”

“Look like you could use a good fuck. Come round back with me?”

The blatant proposition makes her eyes widen, but Simon doesn’t see the problem. Figures if she doesn’t have a man, there’s no issue with him trying out for the part. He waits her out though, vaguely admiring the pert shape of her mouth, lips round with shock. 

Finally they come back together and she chews on her lower lip nervously, caught off-guard but considering it. He doesn’t hold it against her. His bird’s pretty enough, but he doubts she ever puts herself in the position to be asked. He sees the yes in her eyes before she says it.

Still, he enjoys the way she stutters it out softly, eyes downcast. Simon doesn’t bother with his goodbyes to the guys still on the field before ushering her out of the arena and down the hall to the locker rooms with a hand on her back. He drags her into the first empty supply closet he finds, locking the door behind them. She breathes a bit heavily, almost stumbling over her feet, and that’s the eagerness he’s been looking for. Proof his bird’s just as hungry as him. 

She definitely is, Simon thinks, smug when he hoists her up and her legs wrap around his waist without a second thought, her eyes already glazed over. Like she’s been waiting for this for weeks, cunt already sopping wet when he nudges her panties to the side with his knuckles and buries his cock into her. She grips him like a vice, slack jawed and whimpering into the stretch. He likes that. He likes it more when she digs her nails deep into his back, leaving her mark behind. 

“C’mon, don’t get shy on me,” Simon huffs into her neck when she tries to grab his hair instead, what little of it she can. He stares with eyes half-lidded at the way her tits bounce with each thrust. “I like it rough.”

She clenches up at that, dripping wet. Almost a shame that he couldn’t get his mouth on her first. He’ll have to follow her back home like the mongrel he is, mess her pretty bedsheets up and make her scream until she can’t even face the neighbours the next day. 

He doesn’t need her to tell him to know that she’s a good girl, doesn’t do this ever. Only for him. He can tell by how tight of a screw she is, practically purring in his arms; it’s a fight to bully his cock into her. It’s nice when she stutters it out though, strokes his ego the right way. 

“D-didn’t think you’d notice me,” she says, all shy even with her legs spread. 

“Hard not to, pet,” Simon teases, endeared by her soft edges. His slot right in, if not a bit jaggedly. “Been panting after it for a while, haven’t ya?”

“I just wanted to get out of the flat for a bit,” she whispers.

That shifts his perception of her a bit. Infinitesimally so, but still. He didn’t expect the bird to have a lonely flame in her heart. 

“Well, I noticed,” he grunts, and then bends to suck at the salty skin at the crook of her neck before pumping a load into her.

She’s a real good girl. Comes nice on his cock and muffles her whine by biting into his shoulder. He can’t wait until he’s covered in her bites, until his nipples hurt from making her chew on them and his neck is littered with hickeys like a schoolboy. 

Taking her home is easy enough after that. She lets him drive them both back to her place, handing him the keys with a little yawn when he tucks her into the passenger seat of her own car all limp and pliant. 

And he’s right, of course. He makes a right mess of her bed come morning. 

When he leaves after a morning fuck in the shower and breakfast, the cold sinks into his stomach like a lead weight. The fist in his chest is clenched as ever; Simon hadn’t noticed it loosen in the bird’s presence, but he feels it now drawn tight again. Maybe he thought fucking her would finally shake her from his head, but instead it’s made it worse somehow. The lonely flame in his own chest flickers.

He stands in the middle of the sidewalk and thinks it over while angry nine-to-fivers snap at him before really taking him in and scurrying along. Then he turns back around, heading back the way he came.

The next time Simon sees her in the stands, he feels his smile like a phantom limb. He doesn’t have to ask to know she’s there for him.

[m-neuvillette]

Star Rail Men - letting go of their hand prank

Characters: Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Caelus, Dan Heng, Dr Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jiaoqiu, Jing Yuan, Luka, Moze, Mr Reca, Sunday, Welt Yang, Yanqing

Notes: fem reader, implied to be shorter than him

Authors note: anddddd we’re back!! This one really made us giggle when writing it. Hope you all enjoy it. Feel free to like, comment, and follow :)

Argenti

Doesn’t stop him, he just wraps an arm around your waist and keeps walking. And you just keep walking shocked but happy because you’re even closer to him which makes you smile. He looks at you with an even bigger smile and goes to claim that this way of walking together is “even more beautiful than holding hands.”

Aventurine

Raises his eyebrow and asks “did you get tired of me already? Guess the tab will be on you this time then?” Your jaw drops and you look at him like “do you think I have that kind of money??” And then he chuckles and says “looks like you’re stuck with me then, so try not to let go again, alright?” Let’s just say you never let go of his hand first from then on.

Blade

Not even a millisecond after you let go he is giving you the biggest death glare ever. He would say “just what do you think you’re doing?” He would also just keep glaring at you until you give him a satisfactory response to his question, and let’s just say he is not amused when you say it’s a prank. From that point on you made sure never to prank him again because that was a scary experience.

Boothill

Teases you beyond belief. Once you let go he just looks at you and asks “whatcha doin’ darling?” While you shrug and walk a little ahead of him while he laughs and jogs a little to catch up with you but suddenly your world turns upside down because he threw you over his shoulder. You realize what he did and say “Boothill put me down, I’m wearing a skirt!” And he just laughs and shakes his head “well you didn’t wanna hold my hand, so this is the next option. Plus don’t worry I won’t let anyone see what’s mine” and puts a hand protectively over the back of your thighs.

Caelus

Stops everything and looks at you like you just murdered his entire family. Because why would you let go of his hand?? He would look at you and say “I’ll just have to tape our hands together so you don’t get lost, like always”. Because after all he is THE Galatic Baseballer, you can’t just let go of his hand. You narrowed you eyes at him and say “aren’t you the one who always gets lost?!” He looks away and says “well we’ll get lost together then” then grabs your hand and starts walking again.

Dan Heng

You two are walking around Paperfold University so he can see what classes he wants to sit in on to add more to his data bank. Once you let go he’s curious to see if you found something interesting to go look at but once you tell him it’s a prank expect his side eye. He will give you a side eye then shake his head asking “really?” Then continues his walk forward once you realize he is leaving you, you run after him and give him a big hug around his back apologizing. He turns his head to softly smile at you and grabs your hand to continue.

Dr Ratio

He literally does not care at all and just continues on with whatever you two were doing. You just stare at him for a solid couple minutes and he asks “what’s with the glare?” And you say how you were trying to prank him by letting go of his hand to see his reaction. He looks at you with a look of disgust saying “that is the dumbest thing I have ever heard of.” Then again proceeds to carry on with whatever he was doing. But out of the corner of his eye he sees you upset and leaving, he reaches out to grab your arm and pulls you into him while he continues his work.

Gallagher

You guys are walking around after his shift wondering if you guys should go to the bar so he could make some drinks. Once you guys decide to go to the bar on your walk there you guys are stopped by one of the hounds asking him a question. The conversation ends up taking much longer than you two expected, so you let go of his hand to go to the bar and let Siobhan know he wants to make some drinks. But before you even turn around to walk away Gallagher reaches and grabs your hand again telling the hound he’ll figure it out tomorrow because right now he’s gotta spend time with his girl.

Gepard

Doesn’t realize because he’s so busy looking around making sure everything is safe and okay. Yeah it’s his day off but he is still so focused on his job. So once you let you of his hand and he keeps walking you stand in place for a couple seconds before calling his name. Then he whips his head around to see you’re not by him now and jogs back to you asking what’s wrong. You explain to him that it was a prank but he should relax and enjoy the time you two have together. He nods and grabs your hand right away but still is occasionally looking around. You can’t won’t ever fight but at least you are holding hands again.

Jiaoqiu

His is not a prank because I feel so bad for him being blind. But he is confused when you let go. You’re holding his hand to help guide him around the market to get some things for a party you guys are hosting, but you just let go?? So he thinks you found something but still tries to reach out and find you. When he can’t reach out and grab you, he calls out your name to try and get your attention. Once you realize what you did you apologize to him an infinite amount of times. After this happened you never let go of his hand unless you tell him, you also still apologize to this day.

Jing Yuan

Plays along and essentially pranks you. He just keeps walking like nothing happened and it shocks you, like did he not care??? So you try to hold his hand again and he doesn’t let you and says “thought you didn’t want to hold my hand?” While you stand there baffled but then get sad because you realize he won’t hold your hand again because he’s joking around. But he sees you get sad and then goes back to holding your hand and has a tight grip on it.

Luka

As soon as you let go of his hand he’s whipping his head around and looking at you incredulously. He immediately faces you and grabs both of your hands in a death grip. He then starts walking backwards with his eyes glued to your guys’ interlocked hands and you ask “Luka what the heck are you doing??” He responds with “I’m making sure you don’t let go again, and if that means walking backwards then I’ll do it for the rest of our lives”. You immediately soften at his response and vow to never let go of his hand again (that may or may not be because he fell backwards right after he said that).

Moze

Knows what you’re doing before you even try it, he just says “don’t” while still looking ahead while walking. Don’t even try to act like you weren’t going to do anything because he will call you out on that too. He basically knows your every movement and idea before you do. So you relent and continue on with your walk. But he kind of feels bad ruining your fun so he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand while dragging you to a sweets stand to get a treat.

Mr Reca

Gives you a little side eye and says “Oh, what’s this? Going off script are we?” He then grabs your hand again and continues to follow his script as always while telling you to “make sure you stay to the script, please and thank you”.

Sunday

IS STRESSED OUT. Asking so many questions “are you okay?” “Did you see something? “Are you mad at me?” Please apologize to him, he’s been through enough. Once you explain and apologize to him he goes in for a big hug no matter where you guys are, once you both let go of the hug you guys continue walking hand in hand while he brings your knuckle up to his lips to give it a little kiss.

Welt Yang

He honestly is old school and just honestly thinks you don’t want to hold hands anymore. But once he realizes you’re silent after that happens he asks what is wrong and you begin to tell him it’s a prank, and he kinda just stares at you and asks “is that what young people consider a prank now?” You end up just laughing and shaking your head but he is genuinely serious about his question and wants to know the answer.

Yanqing

His first thought when you let go would be that you got kidnapped. He would whip his head around like a maniac looking for you. He would then see you giggling behind him and let out a sigh of relief before interrogating you and saying “why did you let go? I thought you got taken. Please never do that again”. You instantly felt bad and then made sure to never let go of his hand ever again. Jing Yuan did make sure to tease you guys about always holding hands though.

[sakuravalelp]

Don't eat anything else - DC X DP

Using this prompt

Next part

Masterpost

Danny is sure that if it wasn't for his ghost side, he would have already died from malnutrition. Vlad, the monster he is, doesn't allow him to eat any meal without human meat. It's not that he isn't allowed vegetables, fruits, and animal byproducts, but every meal has human meat somehow. Vlad watches him with piercing eyes while he eats, making sure he doesn't avoid the meat.

He's gone days without eating just to avoid it, but eventually, he does have to eat. He has eaten human meat! He wonders if this is why Dan decided to renounce his human side.

Future Vlad had told him that Dan wanted to get rid of his ghost side due to his grief, but maybe Dan thought he would feel better about eating humans if he were a complete ghost. Danny could understand that, but he now knows it wouldn't work...

The Infinite Realms are full of different species, and the act of eating another species that's able to coexist with you in a society feels just as horrendous as cannibalism. Was finding this out what drove Dan mad?

He isn't getting much nutrition when he does eat either, not with him vomiting at least half the times he does. Not that Vlad cares about that;

"Ectoplasm will take care of your body while you stubbornness dies. I do think it would be easier for you if you just stopped being ridiculous and eat."

Ectoplasm and water are the only things he has free access too, and Danny hates how grateful he is for at least having that.

As if things couldn't be worse, he's also been forced to cook the meat. When he started learning how to cook with Tucker's mom, he never, never, would have imagined he would be using his abilities for this. He has grown numb to butchering human corpses…

Corpses are a frequent view in the kitchen. He's scared one day he'll recognize the face of one of them. Vlad knows it and uses to control him, telling him that if he doesn't behave, their next meal might be Tucker or Sam. He hates to admit how docile he's grown.

He hasn't seen Tucker, Sam, or anyone since the explosion in the lab took his family. Vlad doesn't allow him to leave the mansion for anything besides galas. He has him collared like a dog to prevent him from leaving. Except, his collar is a shock bracelet charged with blood blossoms that would inject into his wrist if he tries to escape.

He thought Vlad was bluffing and tried escaping once. His whole body felt like it was burning up in flames, and he wasn't able to move for a week. Vlad told him that next time, the dose would keep him in bed for a month. He hasn't tried escaping since.

He's still talking with them through chat. He doesn't know if Vlad knows, but he doesn't think he does; he told him his phone exploded with the lab. But he can't tell them anything. How could he? How is he supposed to tell them he has cooked humans? That he has eaten humans? That he has grown somewhat numb to it? He can't, and then he feels like he can't talk about anything else that is happening.

Today, as he serves the entrance dish to the first guests Vlad has had since he took Danny in, he forces a fake smile on his face. Inside, he feels a wave of nausea and dread as intense as the first time he was forced to eat human meat. The grotesque irony of presenting this dish, knowing what it contains, twists his stomach and makes his hands tremble ever so slightly.

They don't know. They have no idea that they're being served their own species. They don't know, and Danny is the one forced to make them eat their own kind.

The appetizer is a vegetable-based soup with barely any traces of meat, but the main dish features a full human fillet. The guilt and revulsion claw at his insides, nearly choking him. He has to at least stop them from eating that. He needs to get them out of here somehow. And maybe, just maybe, it’s time to try and put a stop to everything else. He can’t let this atrocity continue.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Tim didn't feel comfortable listening to Masters talk about how good the food would be, while Masters' heir served the appetizer with the fakest smile Tim had ever seen. The teen looked so clearly uncomfortable and scared around his guardian that it was hard to resist the urge to grab the boy and leave.

Masters had praised his godson’s cooking during the gala last week, all the while keeping a hand possessively on the teen’s shoulder. Tim didn't like how controlling it seemed, nor how the grip tightened when the teen mumbled quietly about his name being Danny. It was difficult to witness the entire interaction, especially as the teen appeared to fall into a state of complete dissociation afterward.

They were already planning to investigate Masters due to the suspicious nature of all his contracts, but after the gala, they had to shift their focus to helping the teen. They were fortunate that Masters had granted them easy access to his mansion with the invitation to try Danny's cooking.

They couldn't all go to Masters's and leave Gotham behind, so at the dinner, it was just Bruce, Cass, and Tim. Jason was also in the city because he refused to stay away from an obvious abuse case, but he wasn't allowed at the dinner. He would have attacked Masters just from seeing Danny’s uncomfortable stance under his hand during their greeting.

Masters had insisted that Danny serve the food since he had made it, and now Danny stood beside him, serving him the last plate of soup. Danny stumbled for a moment, and before Tim knew it, he was bathed in soup. Tim blinked, surprised at how the soup wasn’t as hot as he had expected, given the steam rising from the other plates.

"Daniel! What the hell are you doing!?"

Vlad exclaimed, standing up from his place, and the teen beside Tim paled.

“I—I am so sorry!” Danny apologized, using napkins to help clean off the soup, his hands slightly trembling. “Did you get burned?”

"No, no, don't worry about it. I'm okay."

"It isn't okay. Daniel, you ruined Mr. Drake's clothes!"

"Sorry... Let's- I think I have clothes that could fit you... So you could change?"

Oh, so that was why his soup wasn’t hot. Danny had poured it on him deliberately; he was trying to get him alone. Despite how scared Danny looked, it seems he still clung to the hope of escaping. Tim felt a surge of relief and determination. He was glad to see that Danny was looking for a way out, and this chance could be their opportunity to devise a plan.

"Thanks, I would appreciate that." he said as he stood from his sit. He saw how Masters was opening his mouth to say something, but Tim didn't want to risk loosing the opportunity. "Please, don't worry about it Mr. Masters, accidents happen, we'll be back in a moment."

Tim locked eyes with Bruce for just a second, a barely noticeable nod telling him Bruce trusted him to do this right. He then followed Danny through the mansion’s halls and up the stairs, noting that Danny’s bedroom was on the top floor. Danny kept his arms crossed, trying to make himself appear smaller.

"I'm really sorry Mr. Drake. I should have been more careful."

"It's okay really, and please, just call me Tim."

"Oh, um, thanks, but Vlad doesn't like nicknames... would- would it be okay to use Timothy instead?"

“… Yeah, sure.” It seemed Vlad controlled the way Danny was allowed to speak. “Would you mind if I call you Danny then?” Tim asked. He had been mentally referring to him as Danny since the gala and wanted to match that with his spoken words.

Danny shrank farther into himself, and Tim was about to retract his suggestion, but then a small smile appeared on Danny's face and he turned to look at Tim.

"Yeah, I would like that." Danny said in a hushed toned, and a hint of fears in his eyes. Like he was afraid to accept the suggestion.

Tim wondered if Masters had punished Danny for mumbling his preferred name at the gala. However, before he could dwell further on the types of punishments Masters might have used, Danny's eyes widened.

"Ancients, you even have soup on your hair-"

Despite Tim’s attempts to reassure him that everything was okay, Danny continued to apologize throughout the journey to his bedroom. Lamenting how foolish it had been to let the plate slip, and how he should have known better.

Danny’s constant self-reproach made Tim question whether he had misjudged the situation. Maybe it had been a genuine mistake. In theory, it wouldn't matter, because he got to talk alone with Danny either way, but he liked thinking that Danny was reaching out for their help.

Once in Danny's bedroom, Danny beelined to his closet to give Tim a change of clothes. Tim took the opportunity to look around. Danny's room was… impersonal. It was sophisticated and extravagant, like a room that would be featured in a magazine. Tim was sure Danny hadn't decided on the decor. He was surprised to see the bedroom had a large balcony connected to it. Maybe Masters trusted it was high enough for Danny not to attempt escaping through it?

"Would this outfit work for you?"

Danny was holding a suit similar to the one Masters had worn at a previous gala. Now that Tim paid attention to Danny's outfit, he noticed that Danny's clothes today were almost a smaller version of what Masters was wearing, with just enough differences to not be immediately recognized as the same. Thinking back to last weeks gala, their outfits were also similar. To what extent was Masters controlling Danny's life?

"Um... if you don't like it I can grab another one..."

Tim blinked, realizing he had just stared silently at Danny while he offered him the clothes.

"No, sorry, got lost in thoughts, I'm okay using those."

"Okay, I'm glad. Again, sorry for..." Danny motioned to Tims clothes "You can change in my bathroom over there." He pointed to a door beside the bed. "Maybe also take a shower?" Danny got a towel from his closet and offered it to Tim.

"Yeah a shower would be good." Tim said, taking clothes and the towel and entering the bathroom.

He'll talk with Danny once he was changed into clean clothes. If only to calm Danny's guilt about the incident.

Danny's bathroom was spacious, with a jacuzzi bathtub, a separate shower, and one of those popular bidet toilets. From an outside perspective it must look like Danny has anything he could want, but Tim knows better than anyone that money doesn't guaranty a good household. It's sad knowing that any CPS agent that did decide to look into this, would be easily push away by Masters money.

Once Tim had showered and changed clothes, he prepared to go back to the bedroom to talk to Danny, but before he did, a green glow from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Tim sucked a breath when he saw what it was. A syringe with traces of Lazarus waters and blood sat beside the sink.

"Timothy? Everything okay in there? Did the clothes don't fit?"

Tim took a photo of the syringe and sent it to the group chat with the caption, "We may have to add experimentation to Danny's abuse." After taking a sample, he decided to leave the syringe behind, considering the possibility that Masters might use the same syringe more than once and notice its disappearance. He really hoped to get Danny out of there that same day, but if they couldn't, he didn't want to make things more difficult for him.

"Everything is okay! I'll be out in a second."

Tim took one last look around while picking up his dirty clothes, just in case he found anything else. When he left the bathroom, Danny was waiting for him, shifting nervously from side to side. It was time to talk to him.

"Danny, look, I wanted to talk-"

"Ah, let me take your clothes! I'll make sure to clean them and get them back to you!" Danny interrupted him, grabbing his arm and shaking his head with a pleading look.

Tim looked incredulous at Danny for a second, before he realized what was happening and mouthed. "Your bedroom is bugged." He hadn't meant it as a question but Danny had nodded anyway. It was fucked up, Danny couldn't even talk confidently in his own bedroom?

"Right, thank you Danny. I would appreciate that. Perhaps we could take the opportunity to meet again in the future."

Danny gave him the look an adult might give a naive child when talking about an unreachable fantasy, and Tim couldn't help but frown at it. Did Danny believe that even seeing them again was too out of reach?

"That would be great, I'll talk with Vlad about the possibility."

Tim was going to say something else to try to reassure Danny that they would be able to meet, but Danny just handed him two pieces of paper. One was unfolded with text on it, and the other was folded into a small square, smaller than his pinky. He read the unfolded paper first.

- Don't eat anymore of the food. Pretend to have some sort of family emergency and leave, please. Read the other paper when you're far away. -

Tim looked at Danny with questioning wide eyes, but Danny just gave him another pleading look. Tim took a deep breath and took a photo to the paper and sent it to the group chat.

"Oh common, aren't you a little old to ask your guardian about every little meet up you have?" (Would you leave with us?)

Danny gives a nervous chuckle.

"Maybe, but after my family, Vlad tends to be really protective, you know?" He said while pointing to his bracelet.

Tim hadn't noticed how tick the bracelet was before. It was metallic, with a red liquid line in the middle.

"Shock bracelet?" He mouthed.

Danny nodded and then mouthed, "if I scape, it poisons me."

Tim pales a bit at that. They had underestimated how dangerous Masters was.

He motioned to his phone and took a photo of the bracelet after Danny nodded and sent to the group chat with the caption: "Shock bracelet with the capacity of poisoning Danny. We won't be able to get him out right now."

"We should probably go back with the others now."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Group chat

Coffee is my life: *Photo of the syringe*

Coffee is my life: We may have to add experimentation to Danny's abuse.

Death boy walking: Fuck!

Death boy walking: @ Adoption addict, we have to get the kid out of there now!

Bones? What bones?: Bruce is entertaining Masters with Cass at the moment little wing.

Bones? What bones?: I doubt he'll read this.

The blood son: There's no way that buffoon has any relation with grandfather. He's company does not follow any of the leagues morals.

Light & shadow: Maybe he found another Lazarus pit?

Light & shadow: They're supposedly naturally formed right? It shouldn't be that crazy for someone out of the league to have one.

Computer genius: It might not even be Lazarus waters. The tone is slightly off.

The blood son: It is possible that it is a different variation of dionesium.

Death boy walking: Who cares? He's injecting the kid with that thing!

Not Bruces kid: Hate to say it but the zombie is right, we can find what exactly when Danny is safe.

Coffee is my life: *Photo of paper with text*

Light & shadow: ????

Light & shadow: Is the food poisoned!?

Computer genius: Already told them through comms to not eat anymore food.

Computer genius: If the food is poison it hasn't affected them yet.

Light & shadow: Do you guys have a way to deal with the poison there?

Bones? What bones?: Don't worry Bruce doesn't go anywhere without the poison antidote kit.

Death boy walking: Of course he doesn't. The paranoid bastard.

The blood son: It isn't paranoia if the danger is real Todd.

Computer genius: I'll call Bruce in 10 to pretend a family emergency.

Death boy walking: You are NOT going without Danny!

Bones? What bones?: Any possibility on taking Danny with you @ Coffee is my life?

Coffee is my life: *Photo of bracelet*

Coffee is my life: Shock bracelet with the capacity of poisoning Danny. We won't be able to get him out right now.

Not Bruces kid: WTFWTFWTFWTFWTFWTFWTF

Not Bruces kid: Wasn't this a low stakes rescue???

Not Bruces kid: Why is this man coming up with plans in the big villain category?

Light & shadow: I'm scared of whatever "the other paper" that Danny gave Tim says.

Light & shadow: Wouldn't be surprised if Masters was connected with a trafficking ring.

Bones? What bones?: @ Death boy walking?

Bones? What bones?: You're too silent...

Bones? What bones?: Remember you won't be able to barge in without putting Danny in danger.

Death boy walking: I ALREADY KNOW THAT DICKFACE.

The blood son: Tt, don't be so surprise by the warning Todd.

The blood son: Your past actions have prove it necessary.

Death boy walking: Shut the fuck up demon brat. You're not one to talk.

... The blood son is writing ...

Light & shadow: Everyone have had their outburst of bad decisions.

Light & shadow: Can we go back to Danny?

Light & shadow: How likely do you think it is that he's a meta?

Light & shadow: Because, I think it's pretty high.

Not Bruces kid: Did you see something strange in him on the gala?

Light & shadow: No, but the bracelet are pretty similar to the meta-suppressors collars I've seen in the past.

Computer genius: I'm calling Bruce right now.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

next part

[fastandcarlos]

Soft Launch : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: follow the journey of lando’s soft launch to reveal your relationship

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 1,302,382 others

landonorris: one shoulder up or two 🤔

67,505 comments

username1: anyone else notice the person who accidentally walked in midway through the stream tonight!?

username2: lando definitely had a girl over…

alex_albon: you must be desperate for content if this is what you’re posting 🙄

username3: why won’t you tell us who was round your apartment lando??

georgerussell63: how about neither of your elbows up you weird man

username4: I keep replaying it but I can’t work out anything about them…

username5: what if lando has a secret girlfriend or something

danielricciardo: you know it’s okay to look at a photo and change your mind about posting it

username6: not everyone rinsing lando in the comments 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 1,937,605 others

landonorris: life’s been pretty good recently ☀️

58,391 comments

username7: any particular reason why that might be mr lando norris

carlossainz55: care to elaborate? 🤔

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 zooming over to ferrari now to fill you in

username8: wonder if it’s pretty good because of someone??

georgerussell63: glad to see you with a smile on your face buddy 🫶🏻

username9: is he hinting that this new girl has made his life better??

maxverstappen1: I wanna know all of the gossip too 😂

username10: I’d love to be the reason for lando’s smile fyi

username11: I’m more interested to know who even took these photos

oscarpiastri: I’m fed up of this new version of you, you’re too smiley to have around the garage now

landonorris: @/oscarpiastri sorry not sorry 🙃

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by team_quadrant, maxfewtrell and 1,492,606 others

landonorris: apparently if you find a girl who likes quadrant, she’s definitely a keeper ✨

78,301 comments

username12: this sounds like confirmation to me that lando has a girl

team_quadrant: girls who like quadrant = girls with good taste

username13: do you reckon that’s her in the photo ☺️

danielricciardo: ik a better brand of clothes that they could wear 😂

landonorris: @/danielricciardo quadrant > enchante 🤫

username14: really hoping this new girl likes quadrant so she can stick around forever

username15: I like quadrant…does that make me your girlfriend now??

charles_leclerc: I like quadrant but you’re not willing to date me…

username16: @/charles_leclerc also not a girl you clown

oscarpiastri: if I do a photo shoot with you do I get free merch too?

pierregasly: why am I so invested in being part of lando’s comment section lmao

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,594,706 others

landonorris: thank you for bringing so much positivity into my life 🫶🏻🥺

89,394 comments

danielricciardo: you’re welcome honey 😇

landonorris: @/danielricciardo you wish that I was talking to you

username17: look how perfect they look together wow

username18: it’s official, he’s actually managed to get a girlfriend

georgerussell63: congrats on not being the single friend anymore 👏🏻

carlossainz55: little lando norris finally got himself a girlfriend 😂

username19: I want to be happy but I so wish that this was me

username20: the look on his face 😭 I’m so happy he’s happy

charles_leclerc: if you want some tips on how to be a good boyfriend just zoom back to ferrari again

username21: my heart is so full - cheering for these guys all the way!!

username22: constantly telling myself not to be bitter that my dreams now won’t come true

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc and 1,395,604 others

landonorris: race weekend with a first timer, luckily for her she picked the best team to support 🧡🏎️

89,483 comments

maxverstappen1: did she get a choice or did you force her to do this??

landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 she said she wanted to support the team with the most handsome driver 💁🏻‍♂️

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris she thinks I’m handsome awh

landonorris: @/oscarpiastri 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

username23: how have we not got a face reveal when she was literally at the race

username24: I never had lando down for a soft launch kinda guy

danielricciardo: did you even introduce her to all the teams on the grid, you know, let her make her on mind up??

username25: whoever she is she knows how to rock papaya

username26: omg the height difference is the sweetest

logansargeant: I remember when I used to hug you and you’d rest against my chest like that 😂

alex_albon: look at you being all cute and charming

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxfewtrell, danielricciardo and 1,022,494 others

landonorris: holidaying with my favourites 🌊☀️

89,504 comments

username27: eurgh lando you’re killing us with all these almost photos

maxfewtrell: I’m the number one out of the two of us though right??

landonorris: @/maxfewtrell whatever makes you feel better sweet cheeks

username28: my heart can’t cope with this for much longer

oscarpiastri: so you holidayed with your favourites and yet I’m here at home 🤔

username29: lando replacing oscar with his girlfriend is peak

username30: lando knows what he’s doing and this is so not fair

username31: I bet he’s laughing at all of us when he looks at his comments section

alex_albon: it’s alright for some 😂

username32: lando I’m on my knees pls just tell us more about who this lucky girl is

georgerussell63: I think your fans might turn on you soon if you don’t stop playing them 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 1,302,493 others

landonorris: another race weekend with my best human there to cheer me on 💕☺️

99,398 comments

username33: FINALLY HE GAVE US WHAT WE WANT

username34: omg she’s absolutely gorgeous lando

username35: we won at last woooooo

alex_albon: still can’t believe your girlfriend supports mclaren 😭

oscarpiastri: don’t forget who the most handsome mclaren driver is tho 😂

username36: they look so in love together 💞

username37: I want to be jealous but how can I be when they look so cute

lilymhe: we’re double dating asap btw

danielricciardo: they don’t prepare you for when the kids grow up 🤧

landonorris: @/danielricciardo sorry dad 😭

username38: my heart has officially exploded 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and 1,948,502 others

landonorris: whoops they caught us 🥺

tagged: ynusername

138,849 comments

username39: these two are gonna be such a duo omg

username40: ah and he even tagged her 🤩🤩🤩

danielricciardo: my kids are the cutest things in the world

carlossainz55: smooooth operator 😂😂

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 high praise from you my friend 🫡

username41: thank goodness that the soft launch era is now over

username42: I’m already in love with them so much

username43: I don’t want to be yn anymore, I just want to be her best friend

charles_leclerc: congrats buddy 👏🏻👏🏻

alex_albon: stop making the rest of us feel single even though we’re also in relationships please

ynusername: ily 🥺🥺🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[luveline]

Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!

ty for requesting!! <3 —Hotch will look after you, even when you don’t tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k

cw reader has a concussion

Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobody’s watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he can’t do it like you can. There’s something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever you’re near. 

You’re not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when they’re over, is the thing, and he can’t keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk. 

He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because she’s exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. He’s surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer. 

“Hotch, what are you still doing here?” 

Hotch gives him a strange look. It’s not as though Morgan hasn’t seen Hotch clean up a mess before. “Sorry?” 

“I thought you’d be with Y/N.” 

He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they haven’t noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. “She went home.” 

“No she didn’t, they took her in an ambulance. She’s at the hospital, nobody told you that?” 

Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesn’t even say where he’s going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and he’s a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess. 

You don’t answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ. 

“Hi Hotch.” 

“Is she there? Can I speak to her?” 

“She went in for an MRI a half hour ago.”

“JJ, what happened? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 

“She said she told you.” A dry laugh from down the phone. “You’d think I’d learn not to trust her. I love her, but she’s a liar.” 

Hotch could say the same thing. “JJ, what happened? What’s wrong with her?” 

“I think she’s embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her leg and she slipped down the stairs.” 

“Who stepped on her?” Hotch asks. 

JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if they’re too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. He’d fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive. 

He’s out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesn’t have to flash his badge to get told what room they’ve put you in. He would’ve, and he would’ve threatened legal action. He’s no saint. He’ll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you. 

You’re in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. You’re smiling. JJ bites her lip. 

She turns to Hotch with relief. “Hey, look,” she says gently. 

“You took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?” 

Hotch understands quite quickly. “Sorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?” 

You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. “The light.” 

Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. It’s hidden behind other concerning tech, so he’s careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side. 

“Maybe she thought she told me,” he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly aren’t in a state to make decisions for yourself. 

JJ rubs your arm. “She got worse after we got here. That’s why they sent for her MRI so quickly. She’s on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.”   

Hotch knows she’s concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasn’t talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. “Go back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.” 

JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure. 

He admires her loyalty, he just wishes she’d called him two hours ago. 

You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that you’d been here, hurt, without him. “Can I tie your gown again?” he asks. 

You nod into your rubbing. 

“I turned the lights off. It shouldn’t be so bright in here anymore.” He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldn’t. You poor girl. “You’re a little… stark.” 

“I’m trying to think of some fruit and milk,” you tell him. 

“Do you need help?” 

“Not for the fruit.” 

“But for the milk,” he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow. 

“I don’t think that’s what I meant to say.” 

He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. “That’s okay, honey, you’re having a little trouble now, but it’ll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.” 

“You could be a doctor.” 

“I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about medicine.” 

“A very nice doctor. Big hands.” You breathe out loudly, more animated than he’s ever heard you. “Whoo, I’m cold. I think they made me naked.” 

“How about I tuck you in, would you like that?” he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head. 

You stare up at him. “You want to?” 

“I’d love to. I want you to be comfortable.” 

“My boyfriend might not like it.” 

Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You aren’t only incoherent, but amnesiac. And you’ve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least you’ve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes it’s him. 

“No? Why wouldn’t he like it, honey? I’m just trying to take care of you.” 

You visibly fluster. “You’re calling me honey like he does, and he won’t like it ‘cos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesn’t know where he’s going.” 

That second half is gibberish, he’s sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.

You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. “Ow.” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs. 

“Don’t tell Aaron I got hurt.” 

“Why not?” 

“I fell down the stairs. He’s never fallen down the stairs.” 

“I have, actually. Twice. And it doesn’t matter how you get hurt, I want to know you’re alright, so I need you to tell me.” 

He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. “Aaron?” you ask eventually, lifting your chin. 

“Yes?” 

You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. “You didn’t come with me.” 

“I didn’t know you were hurt.” He squeezes your hip softly. “You didn’t tell me. But it’s not your fault, is it? You got hurt.” His voice falls into silk. “Is that warm enough?” 

“I’m glad you’re here. I need you to get my shoes.” 

“No shoes. Can I have a hug?” 

“Why?” 

“Just to hug you,” he says softly. “It might make you feel better.” 

You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin. 

Thank god she’s okay, he thinks. 

“Am I stuck like this?” you ask. 

“Are you worried?” He taps your back. “I doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but it’s okay. Feeling better is the priority.” 

“I’d like to go back.” 

“Home?” 

“For breakfast.” 

“Are you hungry? I can find you something to eat.” 

“What?” you ask. 

You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? We’ll wait for the doctor together.” 

He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb. 

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Stick Around

~1.2k words

Jason Todd is your best friend. But sometimes you're not sure if you're his.

"Back off. I can stitch it myself." He nearly barks at you when you press the towel to his bleeding wound.

"Come on, Jason. Why can't I help?" You ask, trying to keep the worry and pleading from your voice.

"I don't want you to." He says, firm and flat as he pulls away, dragging the towel and the first aid kit with him. He doesn't go very far, but you have a sinking feeling that's more owed to the bathroom being small than him wanting to stay near you.

You shift on your feet, torn between listening– respecting his boundaries or stepping closer to help. You take a step, unable to stay away from him when his lips curl into a frown as he starts stitching his own wound.

"Let me. I know how. You taught me." You try again, careful and soft like you're the one that terrifies the worst of Gotham.

"I said no. Just give me some space." He tells you, hands working steadily to piece his skin back together. You vaugley wonder how many times he's done this alone.

Then his words register. You can't stop your face from crumbling. "You want me to leave?"

He doesn't look up, doesn't respond, too engrossed in his injury.

You nod a little, more to yourself than him as you scoot around him, avoiding brushing any part of him as you slip out the bathroom door. Hesitating, you quietly close the door behind you and linger in the hallway, unsure. How much space did he want? Was he upset with you? Did he want you to leave the apartment?

You let out a sigh and slowly head for the apartment door. You can stay at friends tonight. Stuffing down the emotions welling in your chest, you grab your jacket and start to shove your shoes on.

"Where are you going?" A sharp tone cuts you out of your self pity.

"You told me to leave?" You question, gaze snapping to him.

He stands there, hand over the gauze wrapped on his side and studies you. "No."

"No?" You echo, slowly lowering your coat.

"I only– I didn't want you to get any blood on you. Or see me like that. I don't want you to leave. Why would I ever not want to see you?” He says with a scoff, stepping closer to pull you away from the door, glaring at it like it personally offended him. “You’re the only person I want to be around, it’s maddening, I don’t know why anyone else even tries to speak to me when I can’t get my mind off of you-“

He shudders, like a huge weight has left his shoulders, words cutting off. He presses a kiss against your skin, without thinking, his mouth finding the juncture between your shoulder and your neck, pulling you tight against him. "I want you to stay here. With me." He murmurs against your skin before pulling back just enough to see your face.

"Oh." You fall quiet for a moment, looking anywhere but him as you start to speak again, fighting the heat that threatens to take over your face, "I don't mind. Blood, I mean. Not if I'm helping you."

He can't stop the smile that comes to his face, always so easy and present around you.

Jason reaches out, his fingers touching your chin, gently tapping it, to make you look at him. “Do you still think I don’t want you here? That I don’t want you around?” he asks, voice low.

You waver, eyes trailing back to his. "Well, no, I mean, I know you want me around."

"Good." He says softly, fingers lingering on your skin, on your face, on your waist. It makes you feel wanted, needed, safe.

The moment is so soft, so warm and inviting you want to lose yourself in it. But it feels like a lie to let yourself stay in it. Not when he's all you ever seem to want. When you dream of the color of his eyes and the feeling of his skin against yours. "Are you feeling dizzy? Need to sit down?" You ask, cutting the moment, the feeling that it could be something more, short.

He hums softly, like he expected your avoidance. "You don't have to run from me."

That makes you blink, surprise painting your features. "I'm not running. I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh please, there's so many things I know you've been holding out on me." He laughs a little before kissing your neck and whispering into your ear. "You wanted me way before I knew it was okay to admit wanting you. And now I'm going to make up for all that lost time." He looks at you with an intention you can feel behind his eyes. "There's nothing I won't do for you, nothing that I won't give you because you deserve the world and more." He kisses your forehead and smiles down at you softly as he sighs your name. "So don't run."

That makes your brain short circuit. And then the flood of scrambled thoughts overtake your mind. He knows you want him? Of course he does– He's one of the greatest detectives in the world, maybe even the universe. Why did you think you could hide it? How long has he known? But one thought persists above the rest. He wants you to?

Jason gently taps your hip, dragging your attention from the frantic jumble of questions in your head. "Focus on me. Not whatever's going on in your head. I don't need an answer right now. I just want you to be here." He says your name like it's precious, a treasure to keep close. "Please."

You nod slowly, trying to calm your pounding heart, to get your body to listen to you and answer him or touch him or anything.

"I could just kiss you right here. I could do that. You know, just take advantage of the situation? How you can't seem to believe that I want you. But..." he tilts his head, running his thumb along your jaw, "I want to kiss you when I know you're ready. For you to want it as badly as I do, pretty."

"What if I do?" You ask quietly, scared to break the tension building around the two of them. "What if I want to kiss you, Jason?"

"Yeah?" he whispers, his fingers finally gripping your hair, his thumb lightly caressing your neck. His eyes are locked on yours, and all the emotions that seem to be swirling around inside him right now are all concentrated on one, simple thing: keeping you.

"Yeah." You echo, just as quiet and soft as his voice.

He doesn't ask again, doesn't hesitate, just kisses you with the desperation of years of built of tension and longing glances. He kisses you like you're worth something, and you are. You're everything to him, and he now that he has you like this, he won't let a day pass without reminding you.

Your fingers curl in his shirt, his hand tightens in your hair and everything else seems to fade away when you deepen the kiss. Jason Todd is your best friend. And you're starting to believe that you're more than just that to him.

[nereidprinc3ss]

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

series masterlist

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 

Stupid scarf, you think. 

Stupid door. 

Stupid wind. 

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 

You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 

Stupid Lord Byron. 

Stupid cafe. 

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 

“How did you do that?” 

His cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 

He was totally in love with me. 

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 

Spencer. Spencer. 

It feels important. 

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 

Spence. 

Reality sets in. 

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away. 

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 

“Who was that?” 

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 

Adorable? Get a grip. 

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 

So that’s cool. 

You’re cool with that. 

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 

Nah. Boys are dumb. 

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh. 

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard. 

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again. 

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 

But his job is important. 

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm. 

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 

“I would.” 

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles. 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 

He says none of that. 

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird. 

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 

-

part four

[moonstruckme]

A Friendly Proposition

Based on this request: Hi mae!!! Would you be open to writing tasm!peter parker or Remus lupin with best friend reader who hasn’t cum before, and he is outraged when he hears this? And he’s like, why don’t I show you (wink wink) -- Thank you for requesting!! I chose Remus for this but I would love to do some Peter smut in the future if anyone has any ideas :)

cw: smut mdni, fingering, not necessarily inexperienced reader but kind of has that vibe, basically smut no plot

bestfriend!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words

“I dunno, I guess overall it was fine.” 

“Fine?” Remus looks up from where he’s lying on his bed, one eyebrow lifted in that way you don’t think he knows he does. You’re sitting on the floor in front of his mirror, attempting to cover up a particularly bad hickey your date from last night had left you as a parting gift. His reflection has a wry twist to its mouth. “I should hope it was more than just fine.” 

You shrug, tilting your head to dab at the makeup on your neck. “Not the best, not horrible. I’d call it thoroughly average.” 

Your friend hisses sympathetically through his teeth. “Not the sort of rave review most guys strive for. If I left someone with a mark like that, I’d hope I made it worth their while.” 

You can’t keep your lips from curving. “I didn’t say it wasn’t worthwhile.” 

“Did he at least make you cum?” 

You cough in surprise. “At least?” You turn around, giving him a disbelieving look. 

Remus’ answering expression is equally incredulous. 

“How common do you think that is?” you ask him. 

The eyebrow lifts higher. “Well, now I’m not sure, but I’ve never had any problems.” 

You scoff, turning back to the mirror. “That’s because you’re a guy.” 

“No,” Remus says, amusement tingling in his tone. “I mean, yes, but I meant I’ve never had any problems making other people cum.” 

“Seriously?” You freeze with your hand upheld awkwardly above your neck. You’re doing your best to make this conversation feel casual, but sometimes having an attractive guy for a best friend can get confusing, and the room is starting to feel a tad warm despite the open windows. “Like, what’s your success rate?” 

“What’s yours?” 

“I asked you first.” 

Remus’ lips twitch, fondness beneath his exasperation. “For women specifically?”

“Sure.” 

He nods, expression turning pensive. “I can’t be exactly sure. I mean, it’s not like I’m constantly fucking loads of women.” He says it so offhandedly, but just the language makes a tickle of warmth start up in your cheeks. “There were a couple who didn’t, when I was younger, still learning, but since then it’s been fairly high.” 

You swallow. You wonder what the learning had entailed, what Remus had picked up that you and anyone you’ve hooked up with hasn’t. It’s typically not for a lack of trying, though some certainly invest more time into the ambition than others. You can’t say you’ve even tried that hard yourself, not in a while and not since you’ve reckoned with the idea that it may simply not happen for you. It feels like a pointless exercise. 

You break from your reverie when you notice Remus watching you in the mirror. 

“Your turn,” he prompts. 

“You can’t make fun of me.” 

“You know I wouldn’t.” 

You absolutely do not know that, he loves to tease, but he’s right in that you don’t think he would about this. You catch yourself nibbling on your bottom lip, and stop. 

You do your best to affect his unflappable blasé when you say, “Zero, so far.” 

That blasé hardly holds up now. Remus sits straight up. “Never? Not once?” 

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, so you focus on covering the spot on your neck. “Nope.”

“Not even by yourself?” 

“You make it sound like it’s so easy.” There’s some bitterness in your tone as you tilt your head up, inspecting your work in the light. “I haven’t tried in a while, because I was never able to. I got sick of it.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” 

You try not to melt. Remus will call you that, from time to time, but given the context of your conversation you wish he wouldn’t. Suddenly his room feels a little bit smaller, the atmosphere more private than before.

You look at his reflection, expecting to find teasing in his expression, but it’s thoughtful. Contemplative. 

“You said you wouldn’t make fun,” you remind him. “I feel like that should also include feelings of pity. Let’s not act like it’s some great tragedy to not have cum before.” 

“No, I’m…it’s not that. You’re right, there are worse fates.” One corner of his lips curves slightly, and you mirror him, relieved. “I was just thinking that I could…well, I might be able to help.” 

“What?” A little laugh trips off your tongue. Your face is really feeling warm now. “Do you have some kind of manual or something?”

“Would you want my help?”

“Is there a diagram you’re going to show me? Trust me, I’ve seen those.” 

“Answer the question, love.” 

You set your makeup down, expelling a breath. Meet his eyes in the mirror with a shrug. “Yeah. Sure, I’d be curious.” 

Remus studies you. Analytical hazel eyes and a map of scars you would know blind. “Tell me if this makes you uncomfortable, but I could show you, if you’d like.” 

Your breath seems to stall in your lungs. “On…” you trail off, not wanting to misunderstand him. 

“On you,” he confirms. “Would you want that?” 

You’re nodding before you can think enough to speak. Your head feels slow and fuzzy, like you’re navigating a dream. “Yeah,” you manage. “If you’re alright with that.” 

“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Remus spreads his legs open on the bed, patting the space between them. “C’mere, love.” 

“What—like, now?” 

“Do you have another engagement?” He gives you a little smile. It squishes the scar underneath his left eye adorably, but when you hesitate he sobers. “Hey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

You shake your head, and it’s like your body remembers how to move, propelling you up from your seated position. “No, sorry, I’m good with this. I think I’m just a bit nervous.” 

“That’s alright,” he reassures you. “You don’t need to be, though. It’s only me.” 

You see his eyes drop to your mouth, and you let your lip slip from between your teeth a second time. Remus is right. If there’s anyone you should be comfortable learning this with, it’s him. 

When you go to crawl up on the bed, he stops you. “Probably want to lose the pants first,” he suggests. 

Right. You set your fingers to the button, and it seems to fly open of its own regard. You feel Remus’ eyes on you as you slide them over your hips and step out. 

“Underwear too, or…” 

“No, we’ll keep those for now.” Remus holds a hand out for you, and you get up onto the bed, letting him help you settle in between his legs. It’s impossible not to be conscious of the feel of his pants against your bare skin, or how comfortably he wraps a hand around your thigh, pulling it open that much wider. “Do you usually start with everything off?” 

“Yeah,” you say. “Isn’t that sort of the point?”

“Sometimes,” he hums. “Sometimes, though, it helps to work up to it. You need to get warmed up, you know?” 

You murmur an affirmation, though you don’t actually know. There’s never been much warming up when you or anyone else has tried to do this before. But it doesn’t matter, because then Remus starts rubbing the outsides of your thighs with both hands, and any sound dies in your throat. 

“You have to start slow,” he says in a low voice. Scarred, strong hands moving over your skin. “Everyone responds to different things, and it’s about feeling out what works for you.” 

You can’t imagine how this wouldn’t work for anyone. Remus touch starts moving inward, until his long fingers are dragging over your inner thighs, fuelling a familiar warmth at their apex. 

“Are you feeling more relaxed now?” 

You wet your lips. “I think so.” 

“Good. If you’re feeling up to it, you could try touching yourself other places, see what works.” 

Tentatively, you slip one of your hands up your shirt. Your breasts feel more sensitive than usual, and when you squeeze one, combined with Remus’ hands on your thighs, it makes your breath catch. 

“There you go, sweetheart. You’ve got it.” 

Your body starts to slacken against him, but Remus doesn’t seem to mind. He only uses his grip on your thighs to drag you closer, propping you up. You can’t tell which one of you is warmer. 

Without warning, his hand brushes over your mound. You gasp. 

“Is this okay?” Remus asks, his voice closer to your ear than it had been. He gives you another stroke over your panties. 

“Yes,” you breathe out. 

“Alright. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.” 

One hand continues moving over your thigh while the other drags the fabric of your panties aside, flattening over your cunt. 

“Oh, poor girl,” he coos. “Is all this for me?” 

Your silence must scream mortification, because he chuckles and bumps the side of your head with his affectionately. 

“Sorry, I’m only messing with you. Is it always like this?” 

You lie. “Yeah.” 

Remus hums, dragging two fingers through your folds. You squirm in his lap. Your hand has completely forgotten your breast. 

“I usually start here,” he says, one finger circling your clit. It slips and slides in the mess you’ve already made. “You do the same?” 

You nod fervently. He adds another finger, moving over it gently, and has to tighten his grip on your leg to keep it open. Your breaths start coming faster as he repeats the motion. You can feel him getting hard behind you. 

Just as your pleasure starts to take you under, Remus’ fingers fall away. 

“Your turn,” he says. His voice sounds slightly hoarse. 

When you hesitate, confused and a bit bereaved, he chuckles, taking your hand in his and pressing your fingers to your clit. 

“Show me how you’re gonna do it, sweetheart.” 

Tentatively, you try to copy his movements. Your own fingers feel clumsy and inadequate compared to his, but after all the work Remus has put in they’re still enough. You chase that tightening sensation, hips twitching into your own touch. 

Remus doesn’t leave you on your own for long. His hand finds your cunt again, seeking, it seems, every possible way to drive you to madness. He collects the slick pooling by your entrance, sliding it up and down through your folds, and when his fingers breach your hole you make a soft, surprised sound that sends his lips down onto your shoulder. 

Instantly, you’re aware of how much better this feels. Remus’ mouth is warm and soft, a contrast against the roughness of his stubble. He sucks at you gently, warming you up like he had your cunt, before letting his teeth scrape lightly over your skin. Your date from last night had been so eager to get your neck into his mouth, suctioning onto you like a parasite and rolling your skin between his teeth in a way that hurt more than it helped. Remus is all temperance. He bites you, and then licks it over to make sure you’re soothed. 

The thought occurs to you that maybe you shouldn’t be comparing Remus to someone you actually dated. 

He curls his fingers inside you, and every thought you’ve ever had falls away. All you are is a collection of sensations and wants. 

“You’ve got it, darling, keep going. You’re doing so well.” 

Your fingers and Remus’ working like one mind, until your thighs are shivering and he has to redouble his efforts to keep you still. Your head lolling onto his shoulder, the way his lips transfer to your neck as if it's the most natural thing in the world. His scruff scratching under your jaw, moving as he says your name. 

The myriad of other things he says, sweetheart, baby, good girl, you’re doing so good, growing raspier as the pressure in your core worsens until you worry you’ll shatter if he doesn’t keep ahold of you. 

“Let go,” he instructs, kissing the skin beneath your ear lovingly. “You’re alright, just let go.” 

You choose to trust him, and your body—your being—snaps.

You make sounds you can’t hear, your own fingers stuttering and stopping while Remus works you through the new sensation, murmuring assurances into your skin. Runs his free hand over your trembling thigh. 

Eventually, your mind quiets enough to hear that his breathing is nearly as labored as your own. He slips his fingers out of you. You try to turn around to face him, but your body betrays you, slumping against his front. 

Remus chuckles, smoothing a hand up your side. “Good job, sweetheart. You did beautifully.” He smears a kiss over your cheek. “How was that?” 

You sigh blissfully. Your brain feels pulverized. “Really good.” 

Another soft laugh. “Yeah? Glad to hear it.” 

“Thank you.” You lean your head on his shoulder, trying to look up at him. 

“You’re welcome,” he replies, voice warm with amusement. “Honestly, I should probably be thanking you. I feel quite lucky.” 

You hum bemusedly. Remus’ sex-slicked fingers run lazily over the inside of your thigh. Perhaps your mind is still addled from your orgasm, but this feels incredibly normal to you now. 

“Really? Why?” 

“I just,” he exhales, leaning his head against yours lightly. “I just can’t believe I was the first person to hear you make those sounds.” 

“Oh.” You feel the tickle of embarrassment coming back to you. It draws your shoulders in. “Sorry. Was I very loud?” 

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart.” Remus turns his head, kissing your temple firmly. “You were perfect.” 

[saintslewis]

𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀’𝐒 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

— social media au.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x dallas cowboy cheerleader!reader

summary: stars will always find a way to align to each other

warnings: social media environment, reader’s a bit of a southern belle. typos (maybe?)

saint’s team radio 🪩: i have a serious hyper fixation on the dallas cowboy cheerleaders so you know i had to do it 😝okay enjoy, mwah! tags are down below! 🫶🏽 i have two other things to release this week so watch out! 😚

yourusername

liked by ddcheerleaders, yourbestifriend and 3,738 others

yourusername fun fact, these pom poms are heavy

view all comments

user the dress!

yourusername got it made by my best friend 🫶🏽

ddcheerleaders a star forever shining! ⭐️

user where to next?

yourusername we’re playing a home game against the Denver Broncos then Cota

user you’ll be watching the race??

yourusername courtesy of work, yes 🤍

katpurr goodness you’re stunning

yourusername no, you! 🥹

victoriakelina the whole race weekend, it’ll be so fun

yourusername girl, you know damn well we can’t do all that 😭

user i so badly wanna be a dallas cowboy cheerleader

user the prettiest southern belle ever

yourusername oh, bless your heart 🥹

yourusername

liked by ddcheerleaders, camilaturdi and 7,838 others

yourusername what a game, y’all! congrats to the broncos and now onto COTA for F1 <3

view comments

kelcey_w the hair!!! you keeping it for COTA? 🤨

yourusername oh absolutely, kels

user would you perhaps be interested in the part team owner of the broncos?

yourusername and who would that be? 🧍🏽‍♀️

user his name is lewis hamilton 🧍🏽‍♀️

ddcheerleaders ⭐️🤍!

victoriakelina now what is a teamLH and why are they camping under this post?

yourusername i’m as confused as you are, my sister 😣

user she’s gorgeous!

ddcheerleaders

liked by f1, lewishamilton and 374,922 others

ddcheerleaders our lovely stars absolutely shined for the Austin Grand Prix and a huge thank you to y/n for the wonderful choreography! ⭐️🤍 @/yourusername

view comments

user oh no he discovered y/n, i fear she is gone

user of COURSE he’s gonna be in the likes when this mf doesn’t follow anyone

user i just know he felt y/n’s aura from the garage

user PLS 😭

f1 always delighted to host these amazing girls!

user i’m obsessed with y/n and I’ve only known her for a few hours

yourusername ⭐️🤍!

lewishamilton you did absolutely amazing today! 🥳

yourusername so you’re the broncos owner?

lewishamilton yes? 🧍🏽‍♂️

yourusername inch resting. thank youuu and you’re cute btw.

user NOT Y/N KNOWING HIM AS THE BRONCOS OWNER???

user THEN SHE SAID HE WAS CUTE? MY QUEEN

user i fear we will be seeing a new wag on the paddock

lewishamilton

liked by 13thwitness, fencer and 1,838,537 others

lewishamilton all about the fire for me

view all comments

mercedesamgf1 exactly!!

user dare i say the dallas cowboy cheerleader performance was a lucky charm?

user don’t be delusional 😭

user right? god forbid he interacts with someone 😭

ddcheerleaders the 44 clubs is where it’s at! ⭐️

yourusername you’re cool or wtv, broncos owner

lewishamilton thank you, ma’am

yourusername can’t wait to watch the race tomorrow!

lewishamilton you were in the 44 club right?

yourusername no?

lewishamilton now you are

user get you a nfl team owner who will put you in his very own paddock club suite 😣

user what a way to flirt, lewis

user we just watched this man bag y/n in real time 😭

yourusername

liked by katpurr, roscoelovescoco and 263,836 others

yourusername the world is your oyster, drain a man’s bank account today!

view comments

user now how tf did you get this man to buy you these? 😭

yourusername i called him baby as a southern girl usually calls anybody within a ten mile radius and he was crumbling

user THIS IS PEAK COMEDY 😭😭

fencer i need you to teach me that jump split immediately

yourusername i fear it would kill you

fencer aw dang it 😔

user btw, teamLH absolutely loves you

yourusername i love you guys too! (i’m utterly confused)

ddcheerleaders a star with a star! ⭐️

user one thing about this man, he will bag anyone the internet finds attractive

user he done pissed me off with this one 😭

lewishamilton 🤍🤍

yourusername come back to the room, i need you to tie my bikini

lewishamilton yes ma’am

user he is WHIPPED

user universe, if you’re listening, guide a man like lewis to me RIGHT NOW

saint’s notes: not only am i painfully south african, i also wrote this in 45 minutes lol. if you’re southern, i am sorry if i got stuff wrong about you guys! hope you enjoyed 😚

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @motheroffae @exotic-iris13 @greedyjudge2 @purplelewlew @serpenttines @httpsserene @non-stop-imagines @yeea-nah @emjayewrites @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen

[sluttywoozi]

Nothing Better | lch x reader

A day at the pool is the perfect thing to remind you just how hot your boyfriend is (as if you could ever forget).

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.2k | Pairing: lch x reader | Genre: smut

Warnings: oral r and m receiving, face sitting, fingering, multiple orgasms, prone bone, creampie, breeding kink but just the cum part, cockwarming

Reader Notes: wears a one piece, has a vagina, wap, cries a little

You’re starting to wonder if maybe going to the pool wasn’t your best idea. 

It’s not that you don’t like the water - you love to swim - and it’s not that you don’t like the sun (when you have sunscreen on), it’s just that your boyfriend looks a little too good all wet and glistening. You can’t seem to take your gaze off of him, and neither can what feels like half the people here. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling at least a little territorial, though you know very well that Chan doesn’t have eyes for anyone but you. It’s obvious in the way he keeps glancing over at you from his floatie, checking to make sure you’re still where he left you and smiling softly when he sees that you are. 

You’re reading on your tablet, having bought a waterproof case just for this weekend trip, your elbows resting on the ledge and your body submerged in the water. He wanted to get some more sun before it set and you’re trying to avoid the very same, so you retreated to the shady end of the pool while he floated out to the sunny side. 

There are children splashing around and shouting but you’ve managed to tune them out, your focus locked on your book as it starts to build up to the climax. You haven’t gotten a lot of reading done so far, not with most of your attention on Chan, but you don’t mind that at all. You like to concentrate on being with him when you’re together, like to stay present and soak in every moment, especially since he started at his new job a few months ago. 

He’s been working so hard, putting in long hours and taking on extra projects in an effort to prove himself, but finally, he took a day off and proposed using the long weekend for a staycation. You’re only about an hour from both of your apartments but the hotel is swanky, the beds are cushy, the pool is warm, and you have Chan to yourself. 

You can tell he needed the break by the lax set of his shoulders and the unburdened curve of his smile, a stark difference to his demeanor just yesterday. His laughter comes easier too, you can hear it from across the pool as he joins a few kids in a diving contest, tossing neon pool toys into the shallow end and clapping for them every time they burst up with their treasure in hand. 

They toss the toys into the deep end and you watch as he cuts through the water, his muscled arms propelling him forward before he dips below the surface. It’s a matter of seconds before he shoots back up, holding four of the neon sticks with one hand and smoothing his soaking hair back with the other. 

You know you’re staring but you can’t help it, he’s just so toned and tanned and luscious looking, drenched with pool water and grinning bright enough to overpower the sun. Fuck, why does your boyfriend have to be so hot…

Not that you’re complaining. Far from it, in fact. You know how lucky you are to have found love in someone who’s as beautiful as they are kind, as sexy as they are smart, as handsome as they are funny. Chan is close to perfect, but that’s not why he’s perfect for you. 

It’s because he’s the kind of person who will cut short their relaxation time to play games with kids they don’t know. Because he’ll listen to and empathize with your problems before offering to help you find a solution and comforting you if there is none. Because he’s taken the time to learn you inside and out, dedicated himself to loving you and only you, made promises to you and actually fought to keep them. 

You trust him with your life, your heart, your body, and you know he feels the same way. 

All of that, unfortunately, just makes him even hotter in your eyes. 

Hot enough that though you’re nearing the most important part of your book, you’re wondering if you can drag him out of the pool and back up to the room. There are things you want to do to him and you can’t do any of them here. 

Thankfully, he’s started to wade over, tugging the floatie behind him and waving at you with an affectionate grin. You set your tablet on the edge of the pool and wave back, beaming as he approaches. 

“Hi baby,” he says happily when he arrives, leaning in to kiss your cheek and not even cringing when his lips meet sunscreen instead of bare skin. 

“Hi Channie, do you wanna head up soon?” You ask, hoping he’ll catch the undertone of desire in your voice. 

He doesn’t. 

“Maybe in like an hour? I want to swim some more, is that okay?” He asks so innocently that you don’t have the heart to tell him you want to swallow his cock then ride him into the sunset. 

“Sure, yeah, that’s fine,” you nod placidly, pasting on a fake smile and praying he’ll take it for a real one. 

He doesn’t. 

“What’s wrong?” His brow furrows in concern, his hand wrapping around your upper arm and his thumb brushing over your skin. 

“I just- I, um…” You lean in close to him and cup your hand around his ear, whispering, “You look so hot and I want your dick in my mouth, to be honest.”

“Oh,” He breathes heatedly, his hand tightening on your arm before he lets it slip down, his fingers tangling with yours. “We should go then. We should go right now.”

You just barely grab your tablet with your free hand before he drags you over to and up the stairs, pulling you behind him but walking carefully so neither of you slip. You gather your things up quickly, drying off as best you can before he takes your hand again and guides you around the pool to the small lobby of elevators. The kids wave at him as he goes and he distractedly waves back, still ushering you forward. 

You think he’d be jogging if the pool rules allowed it. 

The air in the elevator is tense, and if the walls weren’t made of glass, you know you’d be pressed up against one of them with his lips on yours. As it is, you can only squeeze his hand while it’s rising, standing next to him as it shoots up to the fifteenth floor and opens with a ding. 

“Do you have the key?” He asks urgently, watching as you dig through your bag to find the thin plastic card. You pull it free of the inner pocket and hold it to the mechanism, waiting for it to turn green. As soon as you hear the click of the lock, you’re pushing open the door and tugging Chan through, barely waiting for it to shut to turn and pull him into a kiss. 

He tastes like chlorine but you couldn’t care less, all you care about is getting his tongue in your mouth and your hands on his body. His abs tremble under your fingertips with every shaky breath he draws in, and they tense into a six pack when you sink to your knees. 

“Baby, you really want to?” He confirms, knowing that your gag reflex is more than a little bit sensitive and wanting to make sure you’re comfortable. 

“Yes, Chan, I really want to,” you murmur, your eyes already locked on the growing bulge in his swim shorts as you start to pull them down, letting gravity do the rest of the work. His dick bobs free and you catch it with one hand, your fingers wrapping around the base and squeezing tight as you guide it to your open mouth. 

You begin with gentle licks to the head, your tongue dragging over his sensitive skin and lapping at the ridge where it connects to the shaft, your eyes coasting up his body to find his half lidded and already on you. 

Now that you know he’s watching, you start to feed his cock into your mouth, moaning when you finally feel the weight of him on your tongue. He echoes you, groaning softly and gazing at you as he reaches the back of your throat. You can’t take him any further, but you know you don’t have to deepthroat him to make it good, not when you’ve made him cum like this before. 

He takes in a shuddering breath and rests his hand on your head when you start to bob up and down, swearing and fighting to keep his eyes open as you suction your cheeks around him. You fall into an easy rhythm and let your hand follow your mouth, stroking what you can’t swallow with a tight grip. 

You don’t know why you don’t do this more often. Having Chan at your mercy feels almost as good as his cock in your mouth does, and the knowledge that you’re bringing him pleasure is enough to make you feel it too. Your pussy is starting to throb with it, your clit beating in time with your heart as you grip his plush ass with your free hand, pulling him into you and taking him just a bit deeper. 

“Feels so good, baby,” he sighs blissfully, his fingers clenching in your hair when you suck up to the tip and swirl your tongue around the head. You hum in response, the vibrations making him groan and tilt his head back, highlighting the tantalizing arch of his neck and the sharp edge of his jawline. 

He doesn’t keep his eyes off you for long, his chin tucked to his chest as he watches you lap at the precum seeping out. It’s salty and bitter but you don’t mind the taste, knowing it means you’re doing a good job. 

Too good, apparently, because he cups your cheek and murmurs, “Baby, I don’t wanna cum without you.” 

Your knees are starting to ache anyway, so you press one last openmouthed kiss to the head of his cock and release him. He takes your hands and helps pull you up off the floor, leaning in and connecting his lips with yours, uncaring of the fact that his dick was just in your mouth. 

Chan’s a sweetie like that, though his kiss doesn’t stay sweet for long. He lets go of one of your hands and cups your neck, his thumb pressed to your pulse as he sucks your tongue into his mouth and moans around it. 

You’re sure he can feel your heart racing but you’re past being shy about his effect on you, know he loves to feel the physical evidence of your desire for him. He could feel even more if he slipped his other hand into your one piece, but it’s still tangled up with yours and you hate being the one to pull away. 

Chan knows this and gently untwines his fingers to grip your hip and steer you to the bed. You’re about to let him tip you back when you remember the fact that you just came up from the pool, pulling away to say breathlessly, “Chan, we’re still soaking wet, we need to get these suits off and hang them up.”

His mouth quirks in a fond half smile in response, the playful roll of his eyes soft and his hands even softer when he uses them to start pushing you toward the bathroom. He practically frog marches you to the sliding barn door, stopping only to swipe his trunks off the floor and working his fingers under the straps of your bathing suit as soon as you step foot on the tile. 

You hold onto his shoulders for stability as he peels the wet fabric down, sinking your fingers into his still-dripping hair when he kneels and presses his cheek to your stomach. 

“Let’s shower fast, I want you to sit on my face asap,” he sighs contentedly, smooching the soft skin of your belly before rising to his feet with your swimsuit in hand. 

You’re struck silent as heat floods your stomach and your cheeks, and he pinches one gently as he laughs, “What, you can be blunt but I can’t?” 

“You can be as blunt as you want if you keep saying things like that,” you assure him, reaching over to turn the shower on and fighting back the shiver that threatens to roll down your spine. 

“In that case…” He wraps his arms around you and brings you into his chest, warming you with his body heat. “I’ve wanted your thighs wrapped around my head since you climbed into my car in that sundress this morning.”

“Why’d we go straight to the pool, then?” You wonder, mystified. 

“You were so excited about your new waterproof case and getting to relax. I didn’t want to ruin the vibe with my dirty thoughts,” he pouts, reaching around you to feel the water and pushing aside the curtain so you can climb into the tub.

“Babe, I have literally never felt more relaxed than I do when you make me cum,” you admit to him as you step under the flow of the shower, tilting your head back to avoid getting your hair wet. “Your dirty thoughts can only enhance the vibe, not ruin it.”

“You promise?” He asks as he joins you in the tub, shielding you from the water. He pumps some body wash into his palm from the wall dispenser before sudsing his hands up and starting to glide them over your body. 

You hum happily and murmur, “I promise, Chan.”

Your eyes fall shut but you can still sense him smiling as he scrubs your skin free of sunscreen and chlorine. You feel fresh and clean and slightly dazed by the time he nudges you back under the water before stepping around you and beginning to clean himself off. You wake up enough to wash his back for him, spending an inordinate amount of time on his toned shoulders and digging your fingers into the knots that plague him from hours spent hunched in front of a computer. 

He rinses himself quickly and shuts the water off, grabbing a towel from the rack and carefully dabbing you dry before swiping the cotton over his own skin and stepping out of the tub. You know Chan gets out before you so he can catch you if you slip, and you can’t suppress the smile that ticks up the corners of your mouth as you climb over the ledge with his hands holding yours. 

He doesn’t release his hold even when you’ve got two feet on the tile, immediately guiding you back to the bedroom and letting go only to hold your hips as you set a knee on the bed and crawl on. 

“Don’t get too comfy yet,” he reminds you, leaping up and twisting to land onto his back midway up the bed. It would be funny if he weren’t eyeing you so heatedly, if you didn’t know exactly what’s about to happen. 

But with his pretty lips parted and his hands covetous as they reach for you, there’s no mistaking his eagerness for humor. You take in a shaky breath while you shuffle closer, your hands pressed to the mattress as you lift your knee up and settle it on the other side of his neck, leaving you straddling his face. 

“Now you can get comfortable, baby,” he says softly, his breath flowing out over your sensitive folds. His eyes are locked between your legs, and as you start to let yourself relax, he lays his tongue out, humming in satisfaction when your pussy finally makes contact with his taste buds. 

Chan eats you out often but hardly ever like this, mainly because you find it difficult to completely let yourself go and just feel. You’re always worried about smothering him or being too heavy or if he’s really enjoying it, no matter how much he reassures you. 

But there’s something about this time. 

Maybe it’s the way his eyes slipped closed as soon as his tongue touched you, like you’re a delicacy he’s privileged to taste. Maybe it’s how he’s gripping your hips and pulling you down, like he wants you to smother him. Maybe it’s the near constant moan vibrating against you, like there’s nothing he’d rather be doing than this. 

Whatever it is, you think you finally believe him. 

Which is why your thighs untense, letting you rest fully on his face as you bend over and prop yourself up on your elbows, sinking into the feeling. 

He just groans in encouragement and wraps his arms around you, digging his fingertips into your skin and urging you to grind. You roll your hips once, whimpering at the sensation of his nose pressing into your clit as his tongue slides inside of you, and that’s enough to get you going. 

You set a gentle pace, sliding in little movements back and forth, barely even registering the obscene sounds of Chan’s mouth at work between your thighs. They’re muffled by your body and before long, they become background noise to the ringing in your ears and the rush of your blood pumping in your veins as he devours you. 

He doesn’t let up for even a second, shifting his focus instead, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking in pulses. His tongue taps at the bud incessantly, his moans urgent as if he’s wordlessly begging you to let your release find you. 

It’s slow going but you can feel it creeping up on you, your climax rolling in like fog on a chilly morning as you try to beckon it closer in your mind. It pulls you in instead, its blissful vines coiling around you as he whines and whimpers into your pussy. 

Finally, the pleasure takes root, blooming within you gently at first before unfurling with ardor, stealing the air in your lungs and the thoughts in your head. Your head falls and your eyes flutter shut, and soon enough, all you can do is kneel there and tremble through the barrage of feelings, the softness of his tongue and the heat of his breath and the reverberations of his groans rendering you helpless. 

You’re still shaking by the time you regain the ability for complex thought, and the first thing you do is attempt to climb off of him. 

Except Chan doesn’t let you go, he just shakes his head and wraps one arm tighter around your body, bringing the other behind you to prime two fingers at your entrance. He doesn’t even bother speaking, simply grunting around your clit and starting to sink his fingers inside, the slickness of your cunt enough to let them glide. 

You melt into him with a moan, reaching one hand down to tangle your hand in his hair and pull as your back arches, trying to guide his fingers to that one spot inside as if he doesn’t always find it on his own. 

And find it, he does, his fingertips grazing the erogenous patch and beckoning forth a little burst of arousal that you just know is seeping down his chin. He’ll need another shower after this but you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when he immediately starts building you up again with his mouth around your clit and his fingers buried inside of you. 

Your hips respond to his thrusts without your permission, rolling into his every touch, and for the first time, you actually find yourself riding his face. He moves with you, whimpering continuously into your pussy as if he’s feeling your pleasure like it’s his own. 

Your head starts to spin, the blaze of white hot euphoria licking at your spine and heating your skin, making sweat prickle where he grips you like a lifeline as he voluntarily drowns himself in you. 

Everything zeroes down to the point of connection between your body and his, the only thing on your mind being the high that’s just out of your reach. It’s just a matter of time with his fingers grinding into your sweet spot and his lips wrapped around your clit, with his whines vibrating against you and his skin pressed to yours. 

You know he wants you to cum, and that’s part of what’s getting you so close. Chan loves to give you pleasure, views it as both his duty as your boyfriend and his privilege as a man, and he always feels a sense of accomplishment when he can get you there more than once. He’s also just a generous person, a giver, and that doesn’t change when it comes to being with you. 

It’s not that you’re not a giver too, it’s just that you know how to take. 

You know how to take the bliss he insists you feel, how to take his mouth and his fingers and eventually, his cock. You know how to take everything he wants to give you, and that’s why you work so well together. 

It’s like you don’t need words anymore, not when you can read his actions just as well. 

And with his actions, he’s telling you to stop thinking and just feel, just let him guide you over that edge, which is absolutely something you can do. 

It doesn’t take much at all to clear your mind, a curl of his fingers and a pulse of his lips around your clit sweeping your thoughts away, leaving you muddled with sensation. You hiccup in a breath and sigh out a shaky moan, your thighs trembling on either side of his face as you near the drop off once more. 

You let it happen, let him push you off the edge into the deep end and welcome the waves of bliss that wash over you. They’re more powerful than the last, blanking out every word in your brain but his name, all of your focus centered between your legs where he’s still hard at work. 

He pushes you through it, digging his fingers into your sweet spot and groaning around your clit as his hand squeezes at your hip. A hot rush of arousal leaves you, and he’s quick to slide his fingers out and open his mouth to catch it. 

His tongue swipes at your entrance, dipping in and out as he drinks you down, his body shuddering under yours at the feeling of your fluttering pussy. 

By the time it’s over, you can barely hold yourself up. Chan seems to sense this and pulls himself out from under you, gently tugging at your legs until they lay straight with you resting on your stomach. 

You feel his touch on your back, a gentle hand rubbing up and down softly as he comes to rest at your side, nosing at your hairline. 

“So good, baby. Just what I wanted,” he murmurs to you, and you pick your head up and turn it to face him, blinking bleary eyes at his flawless visage. 

“Want your dick in me,” you mumble thickly, watching as his eyebrows furrow contemplatively. 

“You’re not too tired?” He questions, and you try to respond but you can only look at his lips and the sheen of you on them. 

“So what if I am? Maybe I wanna fall asleep on your cock,” you finally say, half playful, half truthful. 

“Like… cockwarming? Would you really wanna do that?” He asks eagerly, and you grin a teasing little grin, happy to have unlocked one of his secret desires. 

“Yeah, Chan, I would really wanna do that,” you confirm. “Maybe even today… after you fuck me?”

“Okay,” he beams, pressing a kiss to your nose before springing up with a shocking amount of energy and climbing atop you. 

He straddles your hips and sets both hands on your ass, pushing the cheeks apart to expose your pussy to his searching eye. He releases one side to grab his cock and line himself up, slowly beginning to push inside and choking out a breath as he feels your warm wetness wrap around him. 

Chan is the perfect size for you, not too big or too thick, but just enough that there’s a slight stretch every single time. You fit him like a glove, like puzzle pieces meant to interlock, and somehow, every time he slides inside of you makes you feel like you’re the home that welcomes him after a long time away. 

He bottoms out and it’s like you can finally breathe, even as he stretches himself out on top of you and tucks your hands under his, weaving your fingers together and holding tight.  

You’re completely surrounded by him and that’s enough to have you relaxing into the bed, the only muscles activated in your body being the ones holding your ass up for him as he rolls his hips back and sends them forward again. 

You love having him this close as he takes you apart, being able to feel his strength in the muscled arms stretched along yours and the toned chest pressed to your back has you wanting him even closer. Given the chance, you just might climb into his rib cage and squeeze right in next to his big, luscious heart. That might be a little much though, so for now you’ll content yourself with being smothered by his perfect body. 

The feeling of his dick pressed against your walls to root deep has you reeling, making you thankful for the grip of his hands over yours, the weight of them serving as a reminder that he’s here and he’s got you.

He sets up a smooth, easy tempo, one that reminds you of ocean waves pushing onto and then receding from the shore, filling you with his cock again and again. You miss him every time he leaves but he returns before the emptiness starts to ache, the ebb and flow of him as constant as the tide. 

“‘s this what you wanted, baby?” He murmurs into your neck, waiting for your nod to continue to speak. “Gonna let me fill you up? Gonna let me stay inside?” 

“Yeah, Channie, want you to fill me up and stay inside me,” you whimper, squeezing your inner muscles around him to emphasize your words, the tight clutch of your cunt making him tremble above you. 

“Fuck,” you hear him bite out just before his hips scoop on the next stroke in, the angle allowing his cock to graze your sweet spot. Pleasure zips up your spine, sharp and electric, making your back arch and your pussy clench. 

He notices the way you push back into it and begins to aim every thrust there, ensuring that he drags against the internal patch of nerves as often as he can. He’s still going slowly, his movements almost sedate though there’s an intensity to them, one that you know will be enough to undo you. 

Chan always gets you there, even on nights where it’s harder to climb that hill, nights where you’re distracted or stressed or anxious. You reach for him on nights like that anyway, knowing that soon enough, he’ll have you so blissed out that you’ll forget what was wrong in the first place. 

Nothing could be wrong today, and that makes everything even better, makes his name on your lips taste sweeter, his body on top of yours feel broader, and his cock inside of you hit deeper. It almost feels like he’s reaching the end of you every time his hips buck into yours, the dull smack barely audible with his gasping breaths and shuddering groans in your ear. 

The medley of it all has you feeling dizzy, rapturous, like pure affection and desire and devotion are welling up inside you. They’re rapidly running out of room, your chest only so big compared to your love-soaked heart, and there’s little you can do to quell the overflow as it streams from your eyes in tender tears. 

You try to swallow down the sob that aches to be let out but your lungs trip on it anyway, and Chan just coos and burrows closer to you with a sweet kiss on the cheek. He knows this means you’re getting close and that he shouldn’t do anything but keep going, though you wonder if he knows that it’s unlikely you’ll cum from just his cock. 

He does, of course he does, extricating one of his hands from yours and sliding it down under your body and between your legs. His fingers gather the arousal he’s pushed out with his dick and smear it up to your clit, beginning to rub slow, gentle circles that match the push and pull of his hips. 

The feeling is instantaneous, a syrupy burning starting up low in your pelvis before gathering in your stomach, your pussy responding to the sensation by fluttering around him and trying to suck him in deeper. 

He doesn’t stop, just maintains his slow and steady pace, patiently working you up to your third orgasm and sucking kisses along the curve of your throat, murmuring to you, “Please cum, baby, please cum for me. It’s gonna feel so good, I know you can do it. When you cum, I’ll cum too, okay? I’ll fill you up with my cum and I’ll stay inside and when we wake up, we’ll do it all over again.”

And what can you do with him begging like that, with his dulcet voice and steadily rolling hips and expert fingers on your clit, except exactly what he wants? 

With a whimper you fall to pieces beneath him, euphoria flowing through your veins and dousing your nerve endings, blanking out everything in your mind but his name. It falls from your lips like a spell, like an incantation urging him to shatter with you, the chant constant even as your lungs plead for air. 

But it works. 

It works and he bursts with a low cry, his cock twitching against your undulating walls, a warmth flooding you deep within as his cum paints your insides white. He trembles above you, the muscles that have been holding him up weakened by pleasure, and soon enough he completely sinks into you, weighing you down to the bed. 

“That was so good, baby… Love you so much… Now let’s sleep,” he slurs quietly, just barely shifting to the side so he’s not suffocating you, though he leaves his still hard, still throbbing, still leaking cock buried inside of you. 

Normally that would keep you awake, but days at the pool are always draining and you did just cum three times, so you think a little sleep would do you good. 

When Chan’s arms snake around you and tug you tighter into his chest, you giggle weakly and murmur, “Love you, Chan,” before letting your eyes slip closed and following him into slumber. 

AN: Woohoo!! this started as interlude no. 10 a few months ago but i got like 2k in and lost inspo for it. i picked it back up this week and here we are!

thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed!! i am eager to know your thoughts and feelings 🙏

[kingkatsuki]

— spoiled

After Sae has endured a long day of press interviews, he’s pent up, tired and just wants to go home. But you dressed up all pretty for him today, and you’re desperate for his attention.

Only @saexy could get me to write for Itoshi Sae. Header art is by them and they graciously allowed me to use it in this depravity, please check it out and give them a follow💕

Pairing: Itoshi Sae x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, semi-public sex, piss (Sae pisses inside you), creampie, dirty talk, slight degradation (slut).

Word Count: 2.2k.

Sae would call you spoiled, no matter how much you tried to disagree with him. Rolling your eyes at him whenever he’d comment on it, as though you’d just asked him to buy you a new pair of shoes or the cute plushie you’d seen at the store last weekend (there was no point asking when he’d already bought it for you anyway, he thinks) — but Sae thinks you’re spoiled in far more than just wealth. 

You’re spoiled enough that you get to see every single part of him. Even the sides he tries so hard to conceal and keep from everyone, especially his family. Breaking down the walls to the fortress he built around his heart that he swore was impenetrable until he met you. 

And perhaps that’s why he indulges you so much. Allowing you to climb onto his lap after a long, arduous day of press interviews and meetings as you settle on either side of his muscular thighs. Pressing cherry-stained kisses against the corner of his lips as he tries to ignore the incessant throb in his pelvis in favour of you. 

“You can’t wait until we get home?” He raises a brow, placing his phone face down on the arm of the sofa as he gives you his attention. 

He’d just text his driver to bring the car around, hoping to get home as quickly as possible to take this suit off, relieve the aching throb in his bladder from back-to-back interviews and climb into the shower. And perhaps if he’s lucky round off his evening with your pretty lips around his cock—

“You’ve ignored me all day today.” You accuse, as though it’s his fault he’s neglected you for work, “There was barely even any reason for me to come.”

“Don’t start.” He growls, his Adam’s apple bobs as he feels your lips curl into a sultry grin against his cheek. His rough palms grip your hips as you deliberately grind yourself down on his soft cock as a raspy groan rumbles a the back of his throat, “I told you that you could stay at home, didn’t I?” 

“It’s like sometimes you don’t even want me.” You pout, and Sae has to resist the urge to roll his eyes because it couldn’t be further from the truth. Another one of your elaborate fibs that you like to throw at him whenever you want some attention because you’re the only one he will ever want. 

“Don't give me that shit,” He scoffs, giving your ass a playful spank that causes you to grind yourself down against him, “How could I ever want anyone else?”

Sae feels his cock buck to life beneath you. The warmth radiating through your panties engulfs him as his head lolls back against the couch, the constant throb from his bladder now replaced with desire as he feels his pelvis pulse when your lips meet his in a sultry kiss. 

It’s mind-numbing the way your mouth seems to slot against his so perfectly, tilting your head to the side as you move together languidly. Your tongue strokes against the seam of his lips as they part for entrance and you delve deeper, brushing against his canines before he marches your movements. Stroking his tongue against every single crevice as though he’s trying to consume you whole, pouring every ounce of emotion into the kiss as he purposefully presses you down on his prominent bulge.

There isn’t time for this, not when the car is on its way. Wondering whether he’d be able to satiate you enough with his fingers before you both had to go downstairs. Or at the very least alleviate the tension enough to satiate you until you were settled in the back of the car, the blacked out windows offering enough privacy to offer you a moments reprieve.

It’s as though you choose for him, pressing yourself against his clothed cock with more urgency as you hold yourself against him. Peppering sticky kisses against the column of his throat as your teeth drag against his milky skin, grazing his pulse point as he feels the restraint he holds inside him slowly begin to crumble. 

“You’re terrible, baby.” He groans, his warm palms splayed against your bare thighs as they slip beneath the hem of your dress. Pushing the fabric up to bunch around your waist as his thumbs dip into the apex of your thighs, dangerously close to your soft folds as he teases the hem of your panties. 

“I’m terrible? When you’re the one that’s neglected me all day,” You pout, before breaking off into a moan as Sae’s thumbs stroke against your outer labia. 

You gasp at the sensation, your lips parted in bliss as Sae takes the opportunity to stroke his tongue against your lips, tasting the saccharine hint of cherry from your gloss as he watches through half-lidded eyes as you continue to grind yourself against him. 

But it isn’t enough. Unsatisfied as he pulls your panties to the side, groaning deep in his chest when he drags two knuckles through your slit to feel how drenched you are already. Your slick webs against his fingers as he pushes sharp precise circles against your clit, enough to have you writhing above him as your hands reach down to fiddle with the expensive silver buckle of his belt. 

It doesn’t take much to have his heavy cock sheathed inside your drenched hole, heaving a contented sigh as he bottoms out inside you. The warmth surrounding him is just enough to have Sae feeling comfortable as the tension in his bladder begins to ease and is replaced by fierce electricity that shoots through his veins as you begin to bounce yourself on his length. Slender fingers smooth along your sides, palming your bouncing breasts through the pretty sundress you’re wearing before pulling the straps down to settle around your elbows. Exposing your tits to his gaze as he hums in satisfaction, pressing lingering kisses against the naked skin as his tongue slips out to flick against your taut nipples. 

You move as though you’re using him for your pleasure, and you are — not that Sae minds. The corner of his lip curls into the slightest hint of a smile as he watches you try to get yourself off, rolling your hips so his cock drags against that velvety spot inside you that’ll have you seeing stars as your lips part in a near constant whine. 

“You’re always so fucking noisy,” Sae tuts, and yet does not attempt to silence you as he spreads his thighs further apart, “Do you want someone to hear?”

“Am not.” You scrunch your nose in irritation, biting down on your kiss-bruised bottom lip in a feeble attempt to silence yourself, but it was barely worth the effort.

“Listen to yourself.” He sneers, rough fingers dip into the plush of your ass as he holds you tight. Spreading your cheeks as he palms them beneath his hands before he starts a rough pace, selfishly using you for his own pleasure as he moves you how he pleases, “Couldn’t even wait five minutes before you were jumping on my cock.” 

“Sae, please.” You whined breathlessly, your head falling forward as he fucks himself into you. 

“That desperate for me to treat you like a slut, is that it?” He grunts, “My pretty slut.”

His cockhead bumps your cervix with each forward thrust, his veiny cock catching against the ridges of your inner walls as you find yourself soaring towards your orgasm. The telltale throb begins to ebb in your pelvis as your clit cries out for attention, sliding your hand down between your connected bodies as you begin to press sloppy circles against the sensitive nub as Sae’s eyes follow your movements to watch—

“That’s it, baby.” He grunts, “You get yours.”

It’s all too much as you feel yourself nearing your release, pearly tears begin to bead in your lashes blurring your vision as you desperately try to blink them away. Your moans came out as debased pants as he kept his rough pace as the coil inside you snapped abruptly, forcing you into your climax as you cried out his name in pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” He groans as he feels your tight cunt clench around him as you greedily vie to milk him of his release, burying your face in the apex of his neck as you breathe in the scent of his aftershave. Teeth grazing his clavicle as he gives a few more sloppy thrusts before he feels his own orgasm surge through him like a tsunami, crashing into him in harsh waves as his thighs begin to shudder. 

“Fuck, shit.” He snarls under his breath as you feel white ropes of heady cum begin to coat your inner walls, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he forces you to take all he’s got to give as he empties his balls inside you, “Take it—”

Your chest is heaving, and you think he’s finished filling you with all his potent spunk until you feel it— an unfamiliar warmth begins to spread inside you as your palms immediately shift to press against his chest, trying to pull yourself off his still painfully hard cock to no avail. The fierce grip he maintains on your hips keeps you flush against his pelvis as he fills you to the brim with a warm stream of piss that creates a flood inside you, his pubes tickle your clit as you let out an airy whine at the feeling. His cock works as a dam to keep you full as his hips continue to rock into you sloppily, the back of his skull pressed against the couch as he exhales through clenched teeth. 

“Wait, Sae—” You try to call out to stop him, to escape the sensation but it’s futile. 

He’s completely lost to the euphoria as his face contorts in bliss, revealing the whites of his eyes as the persistent ache in his bladder dissipates and is replaced by smouldering pleasure. Embarrassment begins to swirl inside your tummy at the debauched sight of him, your stretched walls continue to throb around his cock as some of his piss escapes around the base of his cock and soaks his pelvis and slacks. The lewd squelch is shameful as he gives a few more messy ruts, filling the room with the crude noise as you feel the heat burn against your cheeks and the wetness presses against your inner thighs. 

It’s disgusting, depraved, you should be mortified— and yet your clit throbs with desire at the immoral sight. Your hips shift as you reach down to tug the hem of your dress up to take in the sight of him, his piss soaked into his grey Calvin’s as the fabric sticks to his skin. Positive it’s slathered all the way down to the leather couch beneath you as your cunt continues to pulse around him with want, already feeling the familiar heat beginning to build again in your pelvis as you roll your hips into him for some slight relief. 

“Don’t you dare.” He grunts, tightening his grip on your hips to stop you from moving after he was the one to force a mixture of piss and cum into your innocent hole. 

“Sae, I can’t believe you pissed in me.” You whined, feeling the moisture begin to soak into your panties as more of it leaked out of you. Cooling against the fabric as you shift your hips above him, both your eyes on where your bodies are connected as you watch more begin to escape your ruined hole. 

“It’s your fault.” He grumbles, as though you were the one to press down on his bladder. 

“You didn’t tell me you needed to pee!” You pout childishly, jutting out your bottom lip.

“I didn’t get a chance before you jumped me,” He rolled his eyes, his tongue jutting out to wet his lips as his chest continued to heave in his post-orgasmic haze.

“You make it sound like you didn’t want it.” You murmur, squealing when his softening cock begins to slip out of your stretched hole and you feel the final dregs of his piss dribble out of you. 

Sae ignores you, instead his eyes are focused on the mess between your thighs as he drags two fingers through it. Feeling the warmth of his piss and cum mixed with your slick as he watches your body respond intently, throwing your head back with a sharp gasp. 

“You make it sound like you didn’t want this.” He counters, mimicking your tone as he spreads your folds between his index and middle finger to tap your clit. 

“I have to walk home like this,” You gasp at the contact, “That’s so embarrassing.” 

No, he thinks, what was embarrassing is just how easily you had him submitting to you. 

“You act as though I'm going to parade you through the streets like this," He deadpans with half-lidded eyes, feeling the damp back of your dress where it sits against his thighs, "You're only going to go downstairs and get into my car.”

“That still means someone could see,” You whine, your nose scrunched adorably as he had to resist the urge to kiss you.

“Yeah yeah, and who's problem is that?”

His, he thinks as he groans internally. Praying to whatever God was up there looking down on him that there wouldn’t be any paparazzi outside that would catch him in piss-soaked slacks on the walk to his chauffeur. 

And if there was Sae was certain it would be all over social media by morning, and Shidou would never let him hear the end of it.

[luvismenu]

Only When It's Us — JJK ,, index ,, about taglist

Chapter 02 — distraction ✎

fic summary: you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.

nsfw warnings: smut; lots of kissing, lots of touching lol, oral (male recieving, fem too? kinda), sucking fingers, doggy style, unprotected sex (shes using birth control so yep, be safe!) use of ‘good girl’

wc: 6k

📜 permanent taglist: @lovieku @kyuupii @fluttershypoo @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @mar-lo-pap @jungkooks-wife @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @leemonis-blog

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @sweetmimosa28

abt series taglist: send me an ask w the series title !!

“i have to go.”

“why don’t you just come back home? you can start over, and this time, maybe you’ll be more like your brother.”

you sigh.

“mom, i don’t want to be him,” you say quietly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. on the other end, you hear her let out a soft, disapproving tsk, a sound that always manages to make you feel a little smaller.

“aren’t you clearly struggling with school? if you were here with us, with your brother, we’d help you. you’d be fine,” she insists, as if coming home would magically fix everything.

you roll your eyes.

“i really have to go.”

“___, just listen to—”

but before she can finish, you end the call, staring at the blank screen for a moment.

there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest, one that refuses to fade, no matter how much you try to brush it off. its like a quiet reminder of all the things you’re trying to avoid.

go back home?

after everything you’ve been through to study what you want, to finally live on your own terms. every argument, every latenight fight with your parents, all just to claim a bit of freedom.

you worked so hard to break free from their expectations, to stand on your own.

you even transferred universities just to escape the constant pressure back in your hometown. no matter what you did, it was never enough. every choice was somehow wrong, not ‘their way.’

you can’t go back now.

not until you’ve made it, not until you have something real to prove them wrong. you have to be successful, if only to show them that your way was the right way all along.

“hey, are you done thinking? never seen anyone contemplate cheerios this hard.”

min yoongi’s low voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you look up, finding him behind the cash register, his lips curving into a small smile.

“just wondering if i can actually trust your store’s products. what if you are some sort of cheerio secret agent and you're trying to poison me?” you joke, handing him the money.

“oh no, you figured it out. we’ve been poisoning the cheerios. now how am i gonna explain to my boss that our mission failed?” he dramatically placesb a hand on his forehead as if you revealed his deepest darkest secret. you can’t help but chuckle, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit.

“bad day?” he asks, his gaze softening a bit as he opens the cash register.

min yoongi; your friend.

well, he's more like your senior. he graduated last year and he is working parttime at this convenience store cuz he thinks in this way he could spend some time outside.

you didn't question him about it any further.

you don’t usually come here unless it’s an emergency, and breakfast for tomorrow qualifies as pretty urgent, or so you tell yourself.

“something like that,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nods slightly. “well,” he begins, “i’m sorry i can’t give you a discount,” he adds, trying to lighten the mood.

you chuckle, the corners of your mouth lifting. “aw, that’s too bad. i thought i might get these cheerios for free.”

he smiles softly, “maybe some other time,"

you smile back at yoongi and turn to leave. but then you almost bump your head against a man’s chest, stumbling back in surprise.

that was close.

you look up to apologize, but your words get caught in your throat as you take in his appearance.

he’s handsome.

no, that doesn’t even begin to cover it. his face is sculpted to perfection, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. his dark eyes seem to pierce right through you, and his long, dark hair falls effortlessly over his forehead.

but there’s something else,

he looks... mad?

you quickly gather yourself, your cheeks warming slightly. “sorry,” you blurt out, stepping aside to let him pass.

as you walk out of the store, you catch a snippet of conversation behind you.

“are you still upset about her, jungkook?” yoongi’s voice carries just enough for you to hear.

you try to shake it off, not wanting to dwell on whatever is unfolding behind you. it’s not your business, after all.

you step outside, the cool air hitting your face as you leave the store, and try to focus on the tasks ahead of you.

“it doesn’t make any sense, hyung,” jungkook scoffs, the frustration bubbling up inside him.

“when did she ever make sense?” yoongi replies dryly, not backing down as he meets jungkook’s glare. the tension in the air feels thick, but yoongi isn’t afraid to speak his mind.

“from my point of view, you’re now a free man. free from all the bullshit you’ve been through,” yoongi explains, hoping to lift jungkook’s spirits.

“what bullshit? i was happy. we were happy,” jungkook frowns, his confusion evident. he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, struggling to comprehend yoongi’s words.

“that’s what she wanted you to think,” yoongi replies, his tone serious. “and to be honest, that’s what you always did. you did whatever she wanted. you changed for her.”

“i loved her,” jungkook insists, his voice a bit softer but still filled with conviction, as if saying it out loud would make it true.

“did you? really?” yoongi presses, searching jungkook’s eyes for any hint of doubt. he knows this is a tough conversation, but it needs to be talked out.

jungkook looks away and mutters. “you don’t get it,”

yoongi’s expression softens. he presses his lips together as he looks at jungkook, feeling bad for him. “i’m sorry, jungkook. but you really have to let it go now. it’s been two weeks. it’s time to start moving on.”

jungkook stays silent.

instead of responding, he reaches for a lollipop displayed near the cash register, the bright colors contrasting sharply with his gloomy mood. he hands yoongi some money, more than what the lollipop costs, as if he’s paying for more than just candy.

“do you want the change, or can i keep it as a tip for my great service slash friendship?” yoongi tries to lighten the mood, hoping to bring a smile to jungkook’s face.

and it does.

jungkook’s lips curl into a faint smile, a small but genuine response. “keep it,” he says softly.

as jungkook turns to leave, yoongi watches him go, feeling sad for his friend.

“bad day indeed.”

you're sat on a bench in the park near the convenience store, lost in your own thoughts. the quiet sounds of the evening settle around you, the faint rustle of leaves, the distant hum of traffic, and your own sighs mingling with the cool air.

you’re not really thinking about anything in particular, just letting your mind wander in that aimless way it does when everything feels overwhelming.

then, a loud voice cuts through your thoughts.

“no, i know you're hiding something from me!” someone snaps, his voice taut with irritation. “fine! have it your way then.”

curious, you glance over and recognize him immediately; the same man from earlier at the store, the one you’d nearly bumped into.

he’s pacing as he talks on his phone, one hand running through his dark hair in exasperation. his jaw is clenched, his brows furrowed, and you can practically feel the tension radiating off him even from a distance.

after a moment, he ends the call with an aggravated sigh, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he makes his way into the park, still visibly upset. he barely notices his surroundings as he walks closer to where you’re sitting.

he sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, muttering something under his breath as if willing the frustration to melt away. you can’t help but stare a little, like an idiot.

then his eyes snap open and land directly on you.

“got a problem with me?” his voice is sharp, cutting through the silence between you.

you blink, startled, and stand up instinctively. “excuse me?”

he turns fully to face you, his eyes never leaving yours. “i asked, you got a problem with me?”

“no.” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“good.”

wow. nice attitude.

just as you’re about to walk away, he calls out again.

“never seen you around here before.”

“pardon?” you turn back, surprised.

“you’re yoongi's friend, right?” he asks,

you cross your arms, giving him a wary look. “why do you care?”

he shrugs, almost nonchalant. “my bad, just curious. never seen yoongi smile at a normal customer before, so i assumed.”

“oh,” you reply, softening just a bit. “well, i guess you could say we're friends.”

he raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you guess?”

you offer a small shrug of your own. “he used to help me when i was still a freshman, and he still tries to whenever he can. i'd say he's like my teacher, in a way. it’s not like we hang out or anything, though.”

he tilts his head, considering your words. “well, consider yourselves friends. trust me, he doesn’t just help anyone.”

you narrow your eyes slightly, still wary. “and who are you, exactly?”

“jeon jungkook,” he says, extending a hand with a surprisingly polite nod. instinctively, you reach out and shake it, his grip firm. “since you're yoongi's friend, i think we go to the same university. though this is the first time i’m seeing you.”

“same, i am ___,” you pull your hand back.

“what are you doing here, in the middle of the night? didn’t your parents ever tell you not to go out alone?” he asks, the way he talks is somewhere between teasing and serious. you can't quiet get what it is but something about it grates on your nerves, like he's playing at being concerned but in a way that feels almost mocking.

“i could ask you the same thing,” you shoot back, meeting his gaze head on.

he doesn’t flinch, only tilts his head slightly. “i always come here,” he says, his voice calm, almost like a matterof fact.

“same,” you respond. “during the day.”

he quirks a brow, “so why are you in my night shift?”

you scoff, a laugh slipping out before you can stop it. “this isn’t your place or ‘shift,’ you know."

“well, you come here during the day; i come here at night. sounds like shifts to me,” he says with a shrug, and you catch the playfulness on his face.

“guess i’m overtiming, then,” you say, glancing away to hide your own smirk. “don’t mind me.”

he stays silent.

“you’ve got your own shit to deal with, huh?” he says, his voice breaking the quiet.

“why are you talking to me?” you blurt out, catching him a little off guard. “i mean, you don’t even know me.”

he raises an eyebrow, unphased. “i could ask you the same thing,” he replies, mimicking your answer from before.

you narrow your eyes, folding your arms. “i don’t think i want to talk about my problems with a random stranger.”

“problems…” he echoes, looking you up and down like he’s trying to figure you out. “let me guess. got into a fight with your boyfriend?”

“no,” you say quickly, rolling your eyes. “i don’t have one.” for a second, you think you catch a flicker of surprise on his face. “what about you? girlfriend mad at you?”

his face shifts, something almost vulnerable passing over his features before he looks away. “guess you could say that,” he mutters. “since she broke things off with me.”

a silence stretches between you two.

“i’m… sorry to hear that,” you finally say, feeling the awkwardness settle around you.

you didn't expect that.

honestly, the idea of someone like him getting dumped hadn’t even crossed your mind. a guy who looks like that—that intense aura—doesn’t exactly seem like the type to get left behind.

you assumed he’d be the one calling the shots, the one walking away. but here he is, single and clearly dealing with the aftermath of something that’s weighing on him. its surprising.

a thought crosses yourmind.

if someone could leave him, someone who had a place in his life and a claim to his heart, maybe he’s not as perfect as he seems on the outside. maybe there’s something beneath the surface, something that’s harder to deal with than his looks would suggest.

it’s like a puzzle you didn’t even mean to start solving, yet here you are, wondering if there’s more to him than just that handsome face.

but then you shake the thought away. he’s a stranger. a random guy you happened to bump into, quite literally, at a park in the middle of the night. it’s not like you’ll see him again after tonight. or, at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

because, really, why should you care?

whatever his story is, it’s none of your business.

“anyway, hope you figure your problems out.” he says, his gaze flickering away as if he’s eager to dodge any deeper conversation.

“likewise,” you reply.

without warning, he pulls a lollipop from his pocket, holding it out to you. “here,” he says, waiting for you to take it.

you reach out slowly, raising an eyebrow. “thanks?”

he smirks, “again, did your parents never tell you not to take candy from strangers?”

“maybe i like to be a little rebellious,” you say, smirking back at him and he shakes his head smiling.

“well, go ahead, eat it. i don’t want you tossing it away. i spent a lot on that sucker,” he says, a playful grin spreading across his face. despite the oddness of the moment, a corner of your mouth quirks up.

you unwrap the lollipop, examining it with a critical eye before giving him a look that says it all.

he catches it, tilting his head in curiosity. “what?”

“i don’t think i like raspberry flavor,” you admit, holding the lollipop up like a trophy of sorts.

he squints at you, “you’ve never tasted one before?”

you shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “i don’t like raspberries, so i’m guessing this is more of the same.”

he shakes his head, lips twitching into a smirk. “that’s pretty bold, making assumptions without even trying it.”

“just give it a taste; maybe you'll like it,” he suggests, a teasing smile forming on his lips, clearly wanting you to try it. deep down, he doesn't even like raspberry flavor; he just picked it out randomly at the store.

“uh, no thanks. i don’t want that nasty taste on my tongue,” you reply, scrunching your nose a little . “but thanks, you could have—”

your words are abruptly cut off as he grabs your hand, the lollipop still held tightly between your fingers. in one swift motion, he leans in, wrapping his mouth around it. his tongue swirls around the candy, and then he pulls it out, his lips glistening with a reddish-pink hue that matches the flavor.

you're completely taken aback, eyes widening in shock.

oh what the fuck.

“yeah, you’re right. it does taste nasty,” he says, licking his lips as he releases your hand. “give it to me, i'll just throw it away or something”

suddenly, the lollipop feels trivial compared to what he just did. you stand there, completely speechless, your mind and heart racing as you try to process what jus happened.

“what?” he stares at you.

“you’re good with your tongue,” you say, the words slipping out before you can really think them through.

he pauses, his eyes widening for a second, and he chokes on nothing, almost like he’s been caught off guard mid-breath. “uh, what?” he finally manages, blinking rapidly.

realizing how that might’ve sounded, “i just meant... the lollipop. you seemed pretty skilled with it,” you clarify, though you’re aware it’s not really helping.

what are you even trying to say?

he looks at you, a smirk playing on his lips now. “uh-huh, sure,” he says, teasing you. “that’s what you meant.”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “don’t flatter yourself, i was just making an observation.”

but the way he’s looking at you now, dark eyes glittering with amusement and something else you can’t quite place, makes it hard to pretend that slip of the tongue didn’t mean more than you intended.

“so, do you want to suck on it?”

“huh?” you blink.

suck on what now?

“the lollipop” he clarifies, a small smile playing on his lips.

oh.

you clear your throat, fighting to keep a neutral expression. “no, definitely not, especially now that you had your tongue all over it.” you try to scrunch your nose, but any attempt at showing disgust falls flat with the heat rising in your cheeks.

“alright then, just asking if you changed your mind,” he shrugs, still holding your gaze.

“i still don’t want it,” you say quickly, trying to sound convincing.

“okay.” he blinks, unfazed.

“okay,” you repeat, awkwardly.

he gestures to the lollipop still in your hand. “uh, so… are you gonna keep holding it?”

you glance down, pulling your hand back. “i’m gonna throw it away,” you declare, though it feels a bit ridiculous now, given everything that just happened.

“i hope so,” he says, one side of his lips quirking up.

why do you kind of like his smile?

you try to shake your thought off, tossing the lollipop into a nearby trash can, trying to act as casual as possible.

“well, guess that's the end of that,” you say, hoping to sound nonchalant. he nods as he crosses his arms.

you raise an eyebrow, mimicking his stance. “do you usually hand out half-eaten lollipops to strangers?”

he laughs, low and soft, the sound surprisingly warm in the quiet night. “only when they look like they need a little distraction.”

you tilt your head. “oh? and what made you think i needed one?”

his eyes meet yours, his expression softening. “just a hunch,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur. “we all got stuff we’d rather not think about, right?”

a pause.

there’s something unspoken between you two, a quiet understanding in the way you hold each other’s gaze.

he's right.

you are stressing about things you'd rather not think about, things that seem to cling to your mind no matter how hard you try to push them away.

and then there's him, a stranger but somehow not, going through his own mess. you can see it in his tired eyes, the way he keeps looking off into the distance as if trying to shake off whatever weight he's carrying.

you realize you don’t mind it; you don’t mind his company, or even the strange comfort of this shared silence.

both of you are here, each trying to forget whatever it is that’s eating at you. maybe that’s why this moment feels so easy.

”yeah,” you finally say, “guess we do.”

“i gotta go now,” you announce, hoping to put an end to whatever weird tension is building between the two of you.

he doesn't say anything. no goodbyes, no attempts to stop you. so you turn and start walking away, trying to shake off whatever just happened.

but before you can take more than a few steps, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. you stop, surprised, and turn back to face him. his grip isn’t tight, but it’s firm enough to make you pause.

you meet his gaze, and there's something in his eyes—something intense, something that makes your stomach flip.

“would you like a distraction?” he asks, voice low, almost like a whisper meant just for you.

you blink, not sure if you heard him right. “what?” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

instead of answering, he tugs you gently closer. your body stumbles forward, and your hands land on his chest to steady yourself. his heartbeat is strong under your palm, and suddenly, everything feels too close, too intense.

he looks down at you, his eyes flickering over your face like he’s searching for something. “i think i do,” he mutters. “don’t you?”

your mind is racing, trying to make sense of this.

is he asking what you think he’s asking?

he’s a stranger. someone you barely know beyond a couple of conversations and an awkward encounter in a convenience store.

yet there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it hard to think straight.

“yes,” you hear yourself say before you can even process it.

his lips curve into a satisfied smile, and without another word, he leans in and kisses you.

the world seems to stop as his mouth meets yours. it’s not hesitant or soft; it’s urgent, as if he’s been wanting this for longer than the short time you’ve known him. his hands slide up to your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.

your fingers clutch his shirt, feeling the heat of his body against yours. it’s messy and impulsive, and he doesn't even care that you’re both in the middle of a park, under the dim glow of the streetlights.

right now, all you can think about is him. the way he tastes, the way he kisses you desperately.

maybe you do need this distraction.

his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, letting the kiss deepen. his lips are soft, and you moan as if you're melting into the kiss. there's something about the way his mouth moves against yours; like he's been waiting to do this.

“wait—” you pant as pull back, your heart pounding against your ribs, trying to gather your thoughts. he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he asks in a low voice, “what happened?”

“we're... we're outside,” you point out, glancing around.

he tilts his head, his brows raising slightly as if that’s the least of his concerns. “so?” his voice is low and almost teasing, like he finds your hesitation cute.

you let out a scoffing laugh, “what do you mean so?wee’re literally in a children’s park.” you gesture to the swings and slides nearby, deserted at this hour but still... it’s a public space.

he pauses for a second, “my car’s parked just over there,” he nods towards a sleek vehicle at the edge of the park, his lips curling into a smile. “we could, uh... relocate or—”

before you can even process that, your curiosity gets the better of you. “wait— you have a car?” you cut in, a little surprised.

he chuckles. “yeah, and it’s a pretty one at that.” there’s a glint in his eyes that says he’s enjoying this back-and-forth with you, like it’s some sort of game.

you sigh, still trying to wrap your head around the craziness of this entire situation. “okay,” you murmur, almost to yourself, deciding to just go with it. what’s the worst that could happen?

he releases his grip on you, but only so he can grab your hand and guide you towards the car. the walk feels a little awkward now, a heavy tension hanging in the air. you're not sure what to say.

what’s the protocol for walking towards a car with a guy you’re about to hook up with?

as if sensing your nerves, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “come on, my car’s comfy. don’t worry,” he says with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. the way he’s holding your hand... it’s surprisingly tender, making it feel just a little less awkward.

when you reach the car, he opens the back seat door for you. you hesitate for a second, “you won’t, like, kidnap me or something, right?” you half-joke.

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “for someone who’s so aware of the things you shouldn’t be doing, you sure do them anyway,” he teases. his words send a shiver down your spine, both a warning and an invitation.

but you ignore that nagging voice in the back of your mind. instead, you climb into the seat and he follows you right away.

“why are you—” your words are cut off as he crashes his lips against yours, the urgency in his kiss making you lose your breath. one of his hands grips your waist, pulling you against him, while the other tangles in your hair, tugging gently to tilt your head for better access.

the way his lips move against yours, hot and hungry, sends sparks shooting down your spine, and before you know it, you're moaning into his mouth, matching his intensity. your hands scramble to find something to hold onto, eventually locking behind his neck as if he's your lifeline.

“are we seriously gonna fuck in your car?” you gasp, your words shaky when he pulls away just enough to start trailing hot kisses down the side of your neck. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, drawing him closer.

“no,” he breathes and sucks on a sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing the skin before he soothes it with a slow lick. “just couldn’t stop myself,” he admits, voice low and breathy, and then his mouth is back on yours, devouring you with a hunger that makes your head spin.

your hands move restlessly over his broad shoulders, wanting to feel more, wishing his clothes were gone so you could touch him everywhere.

his hands roam your body like he's memorizing it, fingers pressing into the curves of your waist, teasingly brushing against your chest. each touch has you arching into him, wishing he'd just tear your clothes apart already.

it's all too good.

too overwhelming, and before you know it, five minutes have passed with the two of you tangled in each other. when he finally pulls back, panting, his lips are swollen and glistening. your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath, both of you staring at each other in the dim light of the car.

he’s leaning back slightly, his hard on pressing against your thigh. it’s impossible not to notice how turned on he is, and it only makes your own arousal spike.

you're so fucking wet right now.

you’re laid back on the seat, eyes locked on him, watching the way he runs a hand through his disheveled hair, pushing it back revealing his forehead.

“hotel? or my place?” he asks, trying to catch his breath “hotel’s just a minute away, but my place… well, it’s a bit further.”

you can practically see the options laid out in your mind like a checklist.

a) go to the hotel, have your fun, and slip away without looking back. no strings, no regrets. just a quick fuck and disappear like it never happened.

b) go to his place, let him fuck the shit out of you, see if he’s worth all this heat between your thighs. maybe wake up in his bed with his arms still wrapped around you... and if he's good enough, maybe get his number so it doesn’t have to be a one time thing.

you bite your lip, your decision already made before you even realize it.

“yours.”

the drive to his apartment is quick, the tension between you both barely held back. you're glad it’s late at night, because the two of you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other and you don't want anyone witnessing it.

the second you step into his apartment, the door slams shut behind you, and it's a scramble to rid each other of clothing. shirts are yanked off, belts undone, pants shoved down until you're both stumbling towards his bedroom in a mess of heated kisses and needy touches.

“o-oh fuck—yes baby, suck it just like that,” jungkook throws his head back, moaning, his breath ragged. he’s sprawled on the bed, legs spread wide, hands gripping the sheets. you're on your knees between his thighs, sucking him hard, your lips stretching around his thick length.

you glance up at him, eyes half lidded, watching the way his abs flex as he tries to keep himself steady. “shit... you look so fucking hot,” he rasps out, voice rough. his gaze darkens, and he pushes himself up, one hand threading through your hair.

“can you take it, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

you know exactly what he’s asking. you nod, barely managing it with your mouth full, and he smiles, almost wickedly, his eyes gleaming.

“good,” he murmurs, his grip tightening just enough on your hair. “tap me if it’s too much.” and with that, he starts moving his hips, fucking into your mouth with slow, deep thrusts.

you gag slightly as he pushes deeper, but you relax your throat, trying to take him in. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of him moving in and out, his groans echoing off the walls.

“fuck—you’re taking me so well, baby,” he praises, his voice thick and raspy, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. each time his cock hits the back of your throat, it forces a choked gasp from him, his hands instinctively tightening in your hair.

your eyes water, tears pooling at your lashes, but you don’t stop, even as your throat aches. your nails dig into his firm thighs, using them for balance as he fucks your throat. you want to show him just how much you can handle.

“i’m gonna—” he grunts, voice rough and strained. a hot burst of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow it all, not breaking eye contact with him for a second. his chest heaves as he watches you, mesmerized, as your tongue slides slowly along his length, cleaning up every drop. his jaw clenches, the sight clearly driving him wild.

“get up,” he orders, voice still a little breathless, and you obey instantly, letting him pull you to your feet. “on the bed, all fours.”

you get onto the mattress, positioning yourself as he asked. there's a moment of stillness as you feel his gaze roam over your exposed body. your heart races, anticipation building as you wait for his next move.

“you’re dripping,” he murmurs, leaning in closer until his breath is hot against your soaked core. he licks a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, and your eyes flutter shut, a soft, breathy moan escaping your lips. his mouth envelops your pussy, sucking and licking with an rhythm that makes your thighs tremble.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath before moving up, positioning himself between your legs. his right hand trails upward, skimming over your skin until his fingers brush against your lips.

instinctively, you part them, taking his fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around them. the low chuckle that escapes him tells you just how much he enjoys it.

“you like that, hm?” he asks. you moan softly around his fingers, your response muffled but desperate.

he withdraws his fingers, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. leaning down, he wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you slightly until your back is against his chest. you can feel his length pressing against your ass, you move your hips a little causing a little friction.

his hands slide over your breasts, kneading them with just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

you melt into his touch, your head lolling back against his shoulder as his fingers pinch and roll your hardened nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

“want me to fuck you, baby?” his voice is soft against your shoulder as he places feather light kisses along your skin. he nips gently, his hands never stopping their teasing, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes when his fingers pinch just a bit harder.

“y-yes,” you mewl, voice shaky with need, “fuck me, jungkook.”

he squeezes your breasts harder, a groan rumbling from his chest as he sinks his teeth lightly into the curve of your shoulder.

“yeah? can i fuck you raw?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

“yes,” you gasp, your voice barely more than a whimper. “p-please.”

his grip on you loosens slightly, and he leans back to look at you, his eyes dark, like he's stopping himself. “you sure?” he asks, one last time, his tone gentle but urgent.

you nod quickly, breathless. “i’m on the pill,” you assure him, and the tension in his shoulders eases.

“fuck. okay, bend over.”

without hesitation, you resume your previous position, arching your back and presenting yourself to him. he groans softly at the sight, his hand sliding down to rub slow circles over your entrance.

he teases you, slipping a finger inside, making you moan softly as your walls flutter around him. he withdraws his finger, watching the way you clench around nothing, desperate for more.

grabbing his cock, he taps the swollen tip against your slick hole. you whine, impatience leaking into your voice, “just fuck me already.”

a smirk curves his lips, and without another word, he pushes into you.

you grip the sheets tightly as you take him in fully, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick length. a choked gasp escapes your lips, eyes squeezing shut at the delicious burn that quickly morphs into pleasure.

each inch fills you so completely, leaving you breathless, your body trembling at the feeling.

“fuck,” he groans behind you, his voice low and rough, a sound that makes your toes curl. “you’re so tight, baby... taking me so fucking good.” the words are almost a growl, filled with barely restrained control as he fights the urge to pound into you.

his hands move to your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave marks, steadying himself as he sinks even deeper.

your moans spill freely now, raw and needy, muffled slightly by the pillow you bury your face into. he starts to move, slowly at first, pulling out just enough before thrusting back in, his cock brushing against that sweet spot inside you.

the rhythm is torturously slow, each stroke making you whimper, your back arching even further in a silent plea for more.

���please... more,” you manage to gasp out, your voice shaky. “jungkook, i need it.. need you.”

“yeah?” he rasps, picking up the pace, thrusts becoming sharper, each one driving you into the mattress. “want it harder, baby? want me to ruin you?”

“yes.. yes mmph- more!” you cry, your voice breaking as he slams into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. your nails claw at the sheets, the friction of his hips against your ass making stars dance behind your eyelids.

his fingers snake around to your front, finding your swollen clit, and he rubs it in tight, quick circles. your entire body jolts, your hips bucking back against him as you let out a loud, broken moan.

“oh, fuck, that’s it, that's a good fucking girl,” he hisses, feeling you clench around him, your walls fluttering as you near the edge.

“you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls against your ear, bending over you now, his hot breath fanning against your neck. he bites down on your shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to drive you wild.

“you're gonna cum like the good girl you are?”

“yes n-ngh.. i’m close.. s-so close,” you whimper, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. his fingers press harder against your clit, his thrusts turning frantic.

“cum with me, baby” he demands, his voice thick and commanding. that’s all it takes. your body shatters. your vision going white as you scream his name. your walls squeeze him so tightly, milking his cock, and with a deep, guttural groan, he loses himself too, spilling inside you as his thrusts grow sloppy.

he stays buried inside you, his chest heaving against your back, both of you panting heavily. he leans down to press soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder.

after everything that just happened. you've made up your mind.

you're definitely going to ask for his number.

a/n: erm.. don't get into random strangers cars !! haha