#and you know his dick game was subpar

[ursbearhug]

Controversial opinion but I think Plato was called Plato not because he was jacked, but because his forehead was so fucking huge you could see your past and your future in it. I could have parked an airplane there. Pokémon region based on Greece takes place on his massive, wide forehead and it can happen because it's so fucking huge.

"But Percy! There are evidence he took part and won in wrestling/pankration during olympics once!". Irrelevant. If I could permanently blind my enemies with the light reflected from my massive forehead, I would win all of my battles as well.

"But Percy you're just being mean about great philosopher". Great philosopher my ass. And I sure am. Hope he chews gravel wherever he ended up.

This is Plato Hating Blog.

[xxiiam]

Seven minutes in heaven

Ghostface! Choso , Halloween party , shy! Choso , soft dom! Choso , fem! bodied reader , fem receiving oral , munch! Choso , fem receiving fingering , riding , cream pie . Choso calls reader , “Angel” and “good girl”

Note : tyvm for all the love on my fic all mine love you all sm 🫶

1.4K words

You sat down with the crowd of other people in the living room , satoru called everyone into the living room for a game of seven minutes in heaven . You couldn’t believe that as college students you would still be playing a game where you make out with someone for seven minutes, it was almost laughable .

Satoru Gojo stood whilst everyone else sat in a circle , “okay so guys I’m kinda tipsy- kinda horny- so let’s play seven minutes in heaven . You cannot back out of it no matter what” he said laughing to himself while holding a half empty beer bottle, Satoru was dressed in a devil costume , or lack there of a costume .He was shirtless wearing black bottoms and devil horns, Kento rolled his eyes , “what are the people who are waiting supposed to do? Sit here holding our dicks?” Kento Nanami was dressed up as one of the characters from men in black whilst his best friend Yu Haibara was dressed up as an alien.

Satoru scrunched his face up and scratched his ear , “I didn’t really think about that if I’m honest- uhhhh play truth or dare spin the bottle?” . He shrugged and sat down , he nominated himself as going first since it’s his party. He made the empty bottle spin around the circle , he stuck his tongue out to help him concentrate on estimating where the bottle would land.

The bottle landed on someone you didn’t recognise in the slightest , in all fairness you didn’t know any of these people . You only knew satoru since he was in one of your classes and would not stop hounding you and other people to attend this party since it would be the “best Halloween party of the year” currently it was subpar at best. You were dressed as an Angel , you did not plan to match with satoru but he was more than pleased you practically were.

The game continued for a long time , this seven minutes in heaven was way longer than seven minutes each couple of people took at least ten minutes? Were you drunk already that must be why your perception of time is off because what else could they be doing? You nudged utahime , “why is everyone taking so long if they’re only making out?” . She snorted , “y/n they’re not making out they’re having sex” she started laughing.

It was now your turn to spin the bottle and make out? Have sex? With a complete stranger? Your hands gripped the brown bottle and you spun it on the cold hardwood floor , the bottle spun out and eventually landed on the person wearing the ghost face mask and whole getup. You smiled at them softly , you actually had no idea if they could even see you smiling at them .

You stood up and began to lead them to the location - it was literally just Satoru’s guest bedroom. You locked the door behind you , “so do you have a name? A face?” . He laughed awkwardly, “yeah- my name is Choso” you sat down on the bed next to him , “well I’m Y/N - so can I?” You asked pointing to his mask , a part of you was kinda really scared that this choso guy would look like a troglodyte. You didn’t intend on lifting the mask up all the way , but you lifted just enough so you could see his well chiseled jawline and his soft lips that he was currently biting down on anxiously.

You leaned forward , unintentionally knocking off his mask as you began to kiss him but the shy persona you had just been speaking to suddenly disappeared, choso kissed you back roughly . He was surprisingly such a good kisser , you broke the kiss to get a good look at him but he began pressing open mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down your neck .

Once you had a good look at him you weren’t sure why he was covering up his face , he was GORGEOUS. That would be an understatement, he had long black hair , dark loving eyes that had dark circles around them . He had a strip of black paint across his face, he began to get shy again once he noticed you staring for so long , “do I have something on my face?” He asked nervously with his silver tongue piercing making an appearance every-time he flicked his tongue whilst speaking .

You shook your head , “no it’s just- you’re very pretty” you said almost in awe , surprised by his great kisses and immense beauty . His cheeks began to flush , “can I have a taste of you now?” You nodded expecting him to start kissing you again but he quickly accommodated himself between your legs , he looked up at you seeing if you were comfortable with it and you nodded . His index and middle fingers hooked around the band of your panties and he pulled them down desperately before plunging his tongue into your folds .

The metal ball on his tongue circled your clit , coating it in more of your own juices and his saliva . Your thighs clamped around his head due to reflexes , his muscular forearms pried your legs open before he moved his right arm and inserted two fingers inside your now sloppy cunt. You couldn’t help but mewl out his name and chant it like a prayer when his fingers stretched you out nicely and began to bully your g-spot. “mn- choso- feels s’good” . He smiled against your pussy , he removed his mouth from you but kept fingering you , “yeah? Tell me how good it feels Angel”

Your back was arching and he was already ripping pornographic level moans from your mouth , “ ‘s good soososo good choso” you whimpered and tried to cover your mouth to muffle some of your moans . He tutted , “I wanna hear you Angel” he said making your slutty hole squelch and wet his hands . You quickly moved your hands from your mouth to the bedsheets to grip on to them to try to pace yourself to not finish so quickly .

“Good girl” he said softly , “are you gonna cum around my fingers Angel?” . You nodded hoping you’d be able to reach your high . But he removed his fingers? You furrowed your eyebrows , “you’re gonna have to earn it” he said calmly , undoing his belt , pulling down his pants and boxers . His large dick sprung up against his stomach .

Choso sat down on the bed leaning against the headboard , he motioned you to sit down on it . You had your legs on either side of choso , you began inching down on his dick . If he hadn’t eaten you out previously , riding choso probably would’ve taken some time to adjust to. You fully bottomed out , a soft moan escaped from both you and choso as you did . You moved your body up and down his shaft , your ass bouncing off of his body every time you reached the base of his cock .

Your hips began to ache and you collapsed forward onto choso’s torso , he smiled against your ear , “you tired Angel?” You nodded , “mhm help please” you whined , he hummed , “I think you earned it” his large hands grabbed your plush hips and he began to fuck into you, his tip kept pushing and pressing against all your gummy spots , abusing your cervix , you moaned out and bit into his shoulder to stop you from moaning so loud. The room was loud with the slick sounds of choso thrusting into you , soft sounds of his praises and your muffled moans as your eyes rolled into the back of your head .

At this point you were more than desperate to cum and you could tell he was getting extremely close too. You squeezed down on him extra hard , his breathing began to sound rugged and the soft moans sounded more and more desperate as they fell from his bitten lips. He threw his head back , “fuck- Angel ‘m gonna cum, do you want me to cum inside you? Fill you up like the cute slut you are?” He asked his thrusts becoming more sloppy. You nodded and began practically begging for him . He whispered more praises , “cum on my cock Angel- I wanna cum inside you ‘nd you’re gonna take it like a good girl mhm?” your pussy began to spasm on his cock , tightening around him , he bit down on his bottom lip as thick ropes of his clear cum seeped into you.

You both panted and kissed slowly as choso redressed you , he even fixed your hair so you looked presentable. You both sat down with the group of people , utahime asked you why you took so long and you shrugged , she whispered in your ear , “I wasn’t being serious about people having sex by the way” .

[kragehund-est]

"you just know his dick game fire. life changing" when a dude, his living space and his behaviors are subpar and DISGUSTING, that's a PSY-OP.

your time with him will be unbearable. he will drag you in to either live in filth with him or become his maid. you are going to get a string of UTIs an NO ORGASMS.

[helliskylux]

Okay Naruto and Sasuke has officially broken me in terms of MLM ships. I keep forgetting that Naruto is a motherfucking outlier and not the base model.

WELL it may not look like it, but SNS is not even my OTP in naruto. I'm a sasuke-did-nothing-wrong-he-has-nothing-to-apologize through and and through. I recognize that sasuke and naruto are both right and wrong at the same time. A polarizing extremes of ideas. In an idealized story, they would have met in the middle and we should not have to sacrifice all of Sasuke's development just so we can get the "idealized" ending. (which, given boruto's state right now, makes it even more obvious that Sasuke's revolution was need) BUT BUT BUT THIS PARAGRAPH SHOULD BE A STORY FOR ANOTHER SO SHUT THE FUCK UP JEN.

Okay so I do ship sns but it's not my end all be all. BUT BUT BUT even with the above, i still recognize that at the end of the day at least Sasuke still has Naruto despite it all. I mean sure he has Sakura and Sarada. But Naruto tried to understand him. The end game given to him was awful in my honest opinion, but at the very least my point is even I didn't agree with the ending given to him. At least the guy who spent 6 months with him as "friends" and then 4 years chasing him around, has given him as much love and devotion as a shounen series is allowed???

There was something deeply unsatisfying with the Naruto ending. (filled with hypocrisy and back tracking in terms of a lot of people's development) and it stayed me. So I was kinda done with shounen you know.

but boredom is a sin and I watch jjk with bf and even if I was aware of the fandom and sugusato. And yes the bond that they had was amazing and deep. But I just couldn't be on board with it. It wasn't a ride or die situation, you know. So yeah I do like to throw my favorite characters on the nearest dick but no actual TRUE otp you know.

I found myself "You know if Gojo was just given a mere 10% of Naruto's simping powers towards Sasuke for Geto, we wouldn't be here at all."

And damn that got me thinking. It's just that Naruto is just so absolutely FUCKING UNHINGED AND OBSESSED WITH SASUKE UCHIHA. Man had panic attacks of the thought of him dying. HE POSTPONED HIS DREAMS FOR HIM.

Like of course all other shounen mlm ships would look subpar if you compare it to him. LOOK AT HIM. >_> jeez. He's embarrassing.

Like the only ones I can compare naruto to are danmei couples but those are CANON ships. JEEZ. Naruto. look at you. Look at yourself

Naruto and Sasuke can never escape these gay allegations.

ETA: Okay so this was brought on, because I read about Yuji and Megumi mirroring Gojo and Geto. But I was trying to dig. (Because I ship because I'm a dog and it's hot, but I don't ship it ship it??? like I'm not emotionally invested in it. BUT boy oh boy the 263 came out and I was like. "Oh yeah I get it." But then I was comparing it to SNS again. AND I had to fucking hit myself. BECAUSE OF COURSE Yuji itadori is not as feral as Naruto as to Sasuke.

[jasonrae117]

Just Another Hollywood Scene

CHAPTER 2- Media Frenzied

Damian was furious, that insufferable woman at the pathetic excuse for a coffee shop made him look like a complete asshole when in reality he was simply trying to expedite the process because they were taking too long. Now here he was drinking the subpar coffee in the lobby, grinning at his win. That will be the last time I see her.

“Ahem, Damian?” The receptionist, Barbara Gordon, called.

He pulled himself out of his short lived reverie, “Yes Gordon?”

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49727071/chapters/125517982

“I really wish you’d stop using my last name, reminds me of waiting for my dad to be done at the police station.” 

“We are at our place of business, and we must conduct ourselves professionally.”

“You call me that no matter where I am!” 

“Hm, instinct I suppose since I don’t see you that frequently outside of work hours. Anyway, what room is the meeting in? I’m already behind schedule, I don’t want to be late.” He leaned against the counter slightly.

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes as she typed something into the computer. “Looks like your father canceled the meeting and rescheduled it to…friday at one o’clock.”

“Four days from now? But the article is supposed to be released tomorrow!” He almost yelled. 

“Oh, there’s a note in the memo. The media team delayed the release until Friday as well, but at five.”

“They can’t be serious! What did my publicist have to say about this?” He took a step back and began pacing.

“Damian, I don’t know why or what happened, I just have the new times. Why don’t you ask your father or Dick?” She said gently while readjusting her glasses.

“No, I don’t need their excuses. Well then I’ll see you on Friday.” He huffed.

“Mm, not so fast there. You have a preliminary costume fitting on wednesday.”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I’ll see you on Wednesday.” He stormed out of the office building.

How could they just cancel the meeting discussing the procedures of handling the media frenzy. They were supposed to announce his involvement with the movie and begin his media tour to garner buzz for the movie. Now that it’s delayed the Gotham Gazette won’t be happy that they didn’t have their front page news when expected and that might reflect poorly on him, like they weren’t confident it would sell well.

Here’s the problem Damian always had when it came to his own stardom. Many people assumed he got his starring roles because of his father’s connection to the industry or his adopted brother’s ties, and while he in no way claims that he does not benefit from nepotism, a lot of the roles he earned on his own. 

Damian started out like anyone else in this business, background roles or extras. Sure he had the best access to those roles, which he publicly thanked nepotism for, but he did his time in the background and it was other directors, lead actors and actresses, and the public that begged him to start aiming for starring roles. So, he did just that and he was a natural of course, you can’t live with one of the best actors in the world and not pick up some skills, but Damian brought something totally new to the game.

For starters, he was half Middle Eastern which he takes a lot of pride in and is happy to bring at least some representation to Hollywood. He also liked to think of himself as more in tune with his characters, that he delves deeper into who they were to better understand who they are. Not to discredit his father, but Damian simply believed he was in some ways, if not most, a better actor than anyone in his family. He wouldn’t dare openly admit that, but everyone around him seemed to suspect he felt that way.

Unfortunately Damian was somewhat of a diva. He had no intentions to be but when he sees something that can be better, he speaks up. If he thinks something is out of character or doesn’t make sense he brings his complaints to the writer and director. But the thing that most directors hate initially is that Damian would go off script and completely improvise very dramatic scenes. 

Why then would he keep landing these roles if he is such a nuisance to work with? It’s because he was almost always right about the changes and his improvised scenes were arguably his best work and has won him countless awards. He was, plain and simple, a phenomenal actor.

Even with all the praise he gets, Damian still has to answer to the trolls that ruin every interview or live Q&A. The ones that demand he acknowledges his privilege with nepotism and being half white, which he does, every single time. It’s like these people don’t believe the awards or the raving reviews of his movie, or even the general consensus online. They make him feel like he has to continually prove himself, make a bigger name, to show that he is more than his father’s name. That’s why Dick went into directing, to get out of Bruce’s shadow. 

Damian thinks that staying out of the public eye as much as possible will help his image and have him not come across as wanting to always be in the spotlight. But Bruce pointed out that all that does is make him seem like a recluse that only wishes to grace people with his presence when he has won something. Damian hates PR and having to do those talk shows or Buzzfeed Interviews but it's the only way he can change this image of himself according to his father. The only public thing Damian enjoys is his charity work with the zoos across the nation and the local animal shelters. Damian trusts animals more than people and he can tell they don’t think he is who he is purely because of his familial ties. 

This life was exhausting but rewarding all at the same time, he wouldn’t give it up for anything. Which is why he was incredibly irritated they had rescheduled his article in the Gazette, because now that meant more PR meetings and probably more interviews to make up for the delayed information. 

Damian had gone to his favorite vegan cafes a block down, he made the trip down here, might as well make it somewhat worth his time. As he was about to head out and back to his condo, he changed his path walking back toward the offices, promptly deciding to see if his father or brother were in so they could discuss the delay. When Damian got out of the elevator on the seventh floor a half dozen assistants and execs were milling about and chatting excitedly. When they saw him, some tried to scatter but still offered a polite smile.He gave a nod in their direction but continued his way towards Dick’s office. 

He couldn’t clearly make out what they were talking about, but everyone was in unusually high spirits. The beginning of a large budget movie was often hell for everyone, so something must have recently happened to garner this much excitement.

As he approached the Dick’s office, Jason Todd came strolling out with the ever present smirk he always had. Damian had known Jason for almost half his life, he played one of Bruce’s sons in a project for several years and then got his own spinoff from that. He was your average roguishly handsome actor with a ‘I don’t give a shit’ mentality, he did come from nothing unlike Damian and worked his way to the top. He was in some theatre production at a local underfunded middle school that Bruce donated money to and stopped by to see their fall play. Bruce was blown away by Jason’s performance at such a young age, but what’s more is that when Bruce exited the theatre to go back to his car, he caught the young Jason trying to steal the tires. Instead of involving the police, Bruce introduced himself and offered to pay for acting lessons for the kid and got him a few auditions which he landed. 

Since then, Jason has almost been a part of the family. Bruce and Jason didn’t always see eye to eye as Jason was brash and prone to scandal, but it was almost as if Bruce had officially adopted Jason, he was around the manor often enough, he might as well have been a legal son. 

Still Damian was often annoyed by the slightly older man’s behavior, always feeling like Jason was squandering the opportunities his father gave him by being drunk in public and saying outlandish things, as well as literally fighting off paparazzi. He also toted around a new woman every week and it felt like gross behavior from someone who was given everything. 

Damian resented Jason in some ways too, because the only thing that separated the two of them was that Bruce chose Jason to follow in his footsteps, but he was forced to give Damian those same opportunities. Except as the media saw Jason as an underdog story that made it big, Damian’s success was purely nepotism. Not to say Jason didn’t also deserve the roles he got, he was admittedly a good actor, but it wasn’t fair to be so similar yet treated so differently. 

“Hey little D.” Jason said, meeting him a few steps from Dick’s office.

“Todd, what did I say about nicknames?” Damian narrowed his eyes at the taller man.

“To be fair, I don’t remember half the things you actually say to me. I try to block you out but your incessant complaining really knows how to pry its way in my head occasionally. “ He shrugged and was about to continue walking but he stopped himself just to the side of Damian’s shoulder. “We’re all in a pretty good mood, Dick especially. Try not to sour it for fucking everyone.” He patted him on the shoulder, which Damian instinctively shoved off.

“I only complain when there is something reasonable to complain about, and how other people perceive my constructive criticism is not my problem.”

“Yeah because telling me to stop wearing my leather jacket is such a reasonable complaint that entirely affects your life.” He rolled his eyes.

“You wear it year round and half the time you don’t even ride your motorcycle because you’re being driven around. It's pointless and you think it makes you look cool, but in actuality you look like an imbecile. But I’m glad to see that maybe the tides are changing since it seems to be absent from your outfit today.” Damian smirked smugly, but was confused to see Jason shoot back the same look.

“You’re wrong about pretty much everything you said just now, but I don’t give a rat’s ass what your opinion is on my outfits or why I chose to wear what I do, but I will let you in on a little secret. I was wearing my jacket today, took it off while I sat in on a few auditions for your little superhero movie, and now it rest on the shoulders of one fucking hot new actress in town that, and here is the secret,” He leaned into Damian’s space whispering, “ will probably be your leading lady.”

“Great so I may have to deal with some bimbo that probably slept her way into the audition and-” It was Damian’s turn to roll his eyes but Jason’s unforeseen shove made him stumble and swallow the rest of his sentence. 

“Don’t fucking say things like that. She had a fantastic audition while also being fucking hot. Don’t be such a prick and just assume things about someone because I say she’s hot.”

“Only girls you think you have a chance with do you even bother bringing up and 90% of the time they’re bimbos so excuse me for jumping to conclusions. Besides, there’s still auditions for the roles over the next couple of days, we don’t know anything yet.” Damian took a step forward but looked over his shoulder, lowering his voice, “And don’t even think about laying hands on me again Todd, we’re not friends, and we are not family.”

“Fuck you little D, you used to be a touch nicer when you were younger, guess that stick never came out on its own. I can just see it now though, you being jealous when you see your co-star and knowing that you can’t have her because I already will.” 

Damian fully turned to him now. “First, I don’t date coworkers. Second, anyone interested in you isn’t smart enough to be interesting to me.”

“Mark my words Dami.” Jason called out making his way down the hall and to the elevators.

Damian was already frustrated on his way up, now he was just down right pissed off. Jason sure as hell knew how to push his buttons. He tried his best to shake the conversation and took a deep breath before heading into his actual brother’s office.

“Hey D! Everything alright out there? I heard you and Jay’s conversation get a little heated.” Dick was milling about his office, collecting stacks of files together.

Dick’s office was very cluttered but in particular groupings. He thrived in organized chaos, he was a researcher at heart and made sure to analyze every bit of data before making a decision. It’s why he was such a good director, he really understood the background of his movies and would make sure they were as accurate as possible. His mahogany desk could barely be seen beneath the mounds of different colored folders representing anything from future projects, schedules, resumes, and even lunch menus to his favorite restaurants. The floor to ceiling window across the back wall of his office gave him an impressive view over the city and let a lot of natural light in. The office was still overall bright and clean, with off-white walls and light tan wooden panels, the light reflected well around it. Knick knacks from his early days with his real family in the traveling circus were placed neatly on the many bookshelves around the office. He had a plush couch and armchair in the corner facing a large flat screen TV and a coffee table that matched the rest of the wooden furniture in the room. On the other side of the desk were two comfy green velvet chairs for guests to use. It was minimalistic, but full of life. Damian didn’t feel cooped up in here like he did in Bruce’s office that had a much darker color palette. 

“Just Todd being his usual irritating self.”

Dick set his current stack of papers he was carrying down and excitedly started searching for something else in a file cabinet. “He’s been in a better mood since the audition we saw today just before lunch, this Ra-” 

“Dick, I really don’t care to hear about it right now. From what it sounds like, she probably isn’t worth the headache she’ll give us if she’s already throwing herself at Jason.” Damian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a seat in front of the desk.

Dick straightened up, a perplexed expression resting on his face. “I wasn’t aware they knew each other, she just borrowed his jacket for the scene but he didn’t mention he knew her.”

“To be fair, I’m not sure how acquainted they currently are, but he made it clear he wanted to get more acquainted.” He scoffed.

“Well then I’m going to tell him to back off, I don’t want anything ruining the potential this girl has. I think she’s our girl. She is our sorceress!” He threw his arms dramatically into the air.

“Be reasonable, Dick. You still have more auditions for that role coming up. You were probably just hungry.”

“Maybe, but maybe not. I’m telling you, you’re going to love her. I can pull up her audition tape so you can see what I’m talking about.” Dick practically ran to his computer, typing in his password. He barely was able to hit enter when Damian snapped the laptop shut on his fingers. “Ow!”

“Not interested until you’ve seen the rest. I don’t like you making rash decisions, that’s Jason’s brand, not yours. Besides, I came here to talk about something actually important.”

“Idunno Dami, I have a feeling about this one. But I hear you and I’d hate to be rude to the people that have worked hard on their auditions and count them out just yet. So I'll finish them out and go from there. However, this is actually very important, arguably more important than what you’ve come here to discuss.This is our lead female hero, your right hand woman. She needs to be good enough to stand beside you.” 

“You’re opening auditions for this massive role to anyone that can speak. I don’t know why you didn’t just go with someone we’ve worked well with before.” He crossed his arms.

Dick leaned his forearms on the desk. “ Like who? You’ve berated me for anyone I’ve ever suggested. Besides, how are we gonna evolve as an industry if we keep using the same handful of actors, it gets boring. I want fresh talent, and the chance to give someone their big break!”

“How charitable. I haven’t hated everyone you’ve said. Brown was okay to work with.” Damian huffed.

“Stephanie is not the right fit for this role, the Sorceress is dark, mysterious, temperamental. Steph plays the girl next door, happy go lucky type. Plus she hates you.”

Damian shrugged “True.” He always had a hard time with his female co-stars, either they were hired because they were pretty but couldn’t act their way out of a paper bag or they wanted to start a relationship with him to increase buzz surrounding the movie. He tried that once with Emiko Queen and after the movie premiered, just as he was coming around to it being a real relationship, she breaks it off right before announcing her next movie. He felt used and she somehow spun the tale to make him out to be the bad guy, and with his record, it wasn’t hard to sell. He swore that he’d never do that again, or even date co-stars in general. 

He’d done a pretty good job of making it clear from the beginning, but some leading ladies still tried, thinking they could change his mind. They never did.

“Anyway, if you came here to appeal the press release date change, I’m sorry but there’s nothing we can do about it.” Dick opened his laptop once more and typed something.

“You don’t understand how bad this is going to make me look to the Gazette, and if they mention it to anyone else, it’ll be even worse. If this is because you guys are afraid about what I-” Damian was leaning forward in his chair, his voice raising just a little.

“Damian, stop. Everything will be fine. We wanted to wait until your costume fitting so we can send some pictures with the announcement so people see this is happening and real and that we stand behind you fully. Bruce explained everything to the editor-in-chief and told them how much the pictures were going to enhance the story and they agreed. Plus with first look photos of the costumes, all the blogs are going to be jumping on the news and spreading it. By Saturday, everyone will know you’re heading my movie!”

“But won’t this put us behind schedule for the press tour?”

“Not at all, I didn’t schedule your first talk show until the following week as a precaution if we didn’t gather much wave of media presence. But I now worry we’re going to cut our impression short with the new stuff you'll be talking about." He was now reclined back in his seat, hands folded in his lap.

Damian wanted to argue, but it did all make sense. "And the other cast announcements?" 

"All will be released in due time. I'll probably save the Sorceress announcement until last though, really build up speculation and buzz."

"Not to mention drama." Damian muttered.

"Hey, drama isn't all that bad when it's speculation." Dick retorted, pointing at him. 

“This feels like the ‘no such thing as bad publicity’ excuse. And that always goes horribly wrong.” He crossed his arms, slouching a touch into the chair.

“That’s because it kinda is Dami boy. Except it’s truly not bad publicity, sure some people will get disheartened that it’s not their pick, but we’re working with entirely original material, no fanboys to worry about.” Dick seemed way too relaxed for a director releasing what is thought to be the biggest movie of the decade. 

“You still seem to be grossly overestimating the weight of the news about the Sorceress.” Damian stood from his chair and did his best to brush the wrinkles from his suit.

“And you seem to be a misogynist that doesn’t think his female co-star is as important as him!” Dick said firmly as he stood as well, palms on his desk with his body leaning towards the accused.

Damian sputtered his words, his eyes darting for anything to come to his mind right now. “I am not a misogynist! I just think that after my announcement, everyone else is gonna hold the same weight.” He settled his hands on his hips to help him look confident in his statement, but Dick could see right through it and Damian knew it.

“Admit that you’re scared some relatively unknown actress is gonna steal your limelight.”

“That’s not it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah…” Damian watched as Dick slowly sat back down, a calm smile on his face as he rested his right ankle on the knee of his other leg and folded his fingers in his lap. “Ok, maybe I think that we are putting too much stock in the idea, but maybe I’m worried that my chance to change the public's opinion of me is going to be overshadowed, especially with how big you’re acting like it’s going to be!”

“Let it out, Dami. We can’t ease your mind if we don’t know what’s going on inside of it. Look, I know that the press has been up your ass since the Emiko incident. But anyone that’s worth anything knows the truth and will not hire her ever again. But if our sorceress is the next big thing, it may not hurt for her to like you…not in any sort of romantic way. Lord knows we won’t push that angle again, but literally just think you are a decent guy.” Damian scowled at his older brother implying the task for the new girl to be difficult. “Then, if she does reach mega popularity as we hope, then she’ll be willing to do interviews with you and about you and then everyone can see how…charming you really are.”

“I see you and your committee have put a lot of thought into this. It would be foolish to not give your theory at least a small glimmer of a chance.” Damian pulled away from the desk and headed toward the door. He turned ¾ of the way back to Dick, “But she has to be tolerable too, I won’t fake liking someone just because it’ll be good press, someone will notice eventually and then it’ll blow up in your face.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way Damian. Now I’ll see you Wednesday for a moment to check on your costume, but we’ll really touch base again on Friday. Have a great rest of your day Dami.”

Damian nodded in response, closing the door behind but watching Dick’s annoying cheery smile disappear behind the door. He really hoped that they cast this role well because it’ll either be hell or the best thing to happen to him in a while.

[angelvyxen]

I need some advice I’m open for anyone’s opinion.

I’ve been messing around with a guy since the 11th grade till now in our 20s. For background information I knew this guy since middle school, but we didn’t start fooling around till junior of high school. And well he’s an asshole, for us to not to be an a relationship we argued a lot ( we both said hurtful things to each other). How’s the sex you ask it’s okay like a 7.5/ 10, and we only do two positions.

Let call him M (since his name starts with M). M has this thing where he blocks me for a period of time. Meaning days to damn months of not talking to me. M does this thing of unblocking me for certain explicit content, and then go back to blocking me. It’s completely random and absolutely annoying ( He did it today). I have very small feeling he might like me, but doubt it. So my question is what should I do about M? These little block games are annoying, and it’s getting tiring.

Please and thank you, BonnieBadBitch 🤪

I mean this with so much kindness, M has the IQ of an autistic chipmunk, can’t even fuck good enough to get an 8/10 rating, & I bet my bottom dollar he has to sound out words that have more than 3 syllables slowly. Drop him. He sound so incredibly dusty & doesn’t value you outside of sex. I know it’s hard because you two have known each other for so long but in that time frame from Junior to to your 20s, has he provided you with anything other than subpar dick, annoyance, a headache, and stress?

LEAVE THE DUSTIES BEHIND 2023! 🗣️

[phoenixkaptain]

Nineties Tim Drake is a balancing act of being perfectly confident and competent when in the heat of battle, being completely sure of himself and being capable of changing his plans on a dime and all-around being borderline scary because of how well he can read his opponents moves and react to them, but outside of combat he is an awkward little duck boy who wants to befriend other superheroes but is also internally fanboying a bit over meeting other superheroes, so he comes across as stilted and nervous in social situations.

Yes I’m thinking about Tim Drake again. Did I ever truly stop thinking about Tim Drake? Who cares?

Tim is so funny because he is completely confident, the picture of a perfect leader, but the very second he has time to think about anything, he doubts literally everything he’s ever done. The Baseball Arc (my beloved) is a great example because Tim doesn’t trust himself, doesn’t actually believe what he’s doing will work, thinks he’s dooming two separate planets by being stupid. The comic goes out of its way to show us Tim doubting himself, because when he’s actually out on the field, playing baseball for the lives of billions of people (and yes, that is the funniest thing I’ve ever typed in my whole life) Tim is the complete opposite. More than trusting himself, he asks his friends to trust him, to believe in him that he can make them win a dumb baseball game and that he knows what he’s doing.

And they do trust him! That’s what really sticks, in Young Justice! The others trust Robin, they trust Tim, with their lives and the lives of everyone they know and care about. They trust him to do what he says he will, and he pushes himself so that he never lets them down because letting them down would prove that his doubts are correct.

But, even as he exceeds expectations, Tim is still doubting himself. He doubts that he’s a good enough Robin. He doubts that he lives up to Jason’s and Dick’s legacy. He doubts that he lives up to Bruce’s standards. He doubts that his plans will work, even as he comes up with a billion contingencies in the case that they don’t. He doubts himself, and Young Justice shows us this multiple times.

Tim Drake has a constant struggle with himself, with his internal voice that tells him he isn’t on the same level as the heroes he surrounds himself with.

But, the Young Justice team don’t believe he’s subpar. They’re baffled by him, they don’t understand him, they can’t read him at all, but they trust him and it means a lot to me that Tim can take the trust they put in him and build himself up with it. He trusts them just as much as they trust him.

He trusts them more than they trust themselves. He trusts Impulse even while everyone else thinks Bart is just an impulsive boy who can’t sit still. He trusts Wonder Girl even while Cassie doubts herself in similar ways that he does. He trusts Superboy even while Superboy struggles with everything under the sun. Tim even trusts Secret! Do you know how hard it is to trust Secret? Secret literally tried to murder Stephanie and Tim was just like “Girls will be girls” (I blame the writers for being sexist, but it is really funny to think that Tim thinks of girls in the same way people say “boys will be boys.” Like, he thinks that all applies to girls, not boys. Look who he surrounds himself with, Tim is more shocked when girls don’t punch each other to show affection)

Anyway, long story short, I fucking love how Tim is the most capable awkward little duck man in the world and I support him more than I support myself-

[starfirette]

Civilian!R working up the courage to ask Barbara Gordon out on a date.

🌸 Civilian! Reader x Oracle! Barbara Gordon

🌸 masterlist | requests are open!

🌸 this is young justice Barbara! Completely sfw with a gender neutral reader

Babs honestly didn't seem like she was even looking to date

So when you met her, you tried your best to stave off your growing crush

Barbara was really good at her job; so good it made you feel completely useless

Why are you even apart of this whole scheme? Compared to Barbara, your computer skills are mediocre at best.

Barbara knew the game inside and out, and she's been doing this for a couple years now

Maybe it's just that you're not used to using your skills for more extreme measures. Barbara can do it while watching Legally Blonde and eating Cheetos. So she's good at what she does

You never asked her what happened that caused her to be in a wheelchair. You'd eventually deduced that she'd been in an accident after seeing a few photos from what had to have been just years prior

But still you never asked

Barbara's is really good at making you feel important to the team; she's always thanking you

She's always telling you that you're a great help

She always reassures you that your presence is of course helpful, and that she wouldn't lie to you; if you were a hinderance then she and the others would have kicked you out

Your crush on Barbara just kept growing. You liked to do little things. It started by offering to bring food, bringing snacks and other goodies she couldn't resist

Eventually you started to pay extra attention to your appearance. You tried to dress nicely for her; neat hair, maybe some tinted chapstick just to make your lips look more ✨appealing✨

You kept your nails clean and short, hoping that she'd see them and think to herself, "Wow, Y/n sure has great hygiene!"

Working with her for a while really just brought out a new side to you

As your computer skills improved, your feelings for her grew. You always felt hindered by the unspoken-of attraction she felt towards Dick.

It seemed like Barbara didn't notice you at all. She didn't treat you any differently than she treated anyone else. You did your best to see this as a good thing; you tried to realize that she liked you and considered you a friend

But it did hurt to know that your crush would be one sided

Compared to all others...you felt subpar. Barbara is friends with aliens and gods and acrobatic hunks.

And you know what, that sort of messed with your head

You definitely put yourself down in the sense that you don't feel like you'd be good enough for Barbara. You're untrained, you don't have powers; you felt extremely ordinary in a group of such exceptional people

IN BARBARA'S MIND, HOWEVER

She thinks you're really cute 🥰

She notices when you're in a bad mood and she really tries to make you feel better

She didn't think of you in a romantic way at first!

You just became a good friend! You understood what it was like to be the guy behind the screen, watching the cameras and navigating the Team

Barbara doesn't think about the fact you've never been a "real hero"

As far as she's concerned, you're just as part of the team as anyone else

Your skills are invaluable

She couldn't do it alone

Oracle and The Mystic, Barbara and Y/n!

By the time she realized she'd liked you it's because Conner was being a little touchy with his attitude and he made a snide comment towards you

Of course you handled it pretty well but it made Barbara realize that she was angry Conner would even try to make a jab at you

Her own emotions and presented themselves as a protection mechanism and all for you!

She tried to drop hints

She tried to ask you out

But you didn't even realize what she meant. You two had spent so much time together that you assumed every hang out or outing was extremely platonic

Both of you wished in silence that every lunch was a date

So when the fuck were you going to just say something? Barbara had already tried and she failed and she didn't have the confidence to actually say the words "I like you like that" aloud

It was so intense that everyone started to notice

Everyone on the Team could see what was happening and no one really wanted to say anything.

Nothing really happened

There wasn't any major force or huge event that prompted you to ask her out for real

You had merely gotten a huge wave of adrenaline and you just

Did it!

And she said yes

And it was awkward.

It was painfully awkward. You sat there, too aware of your breathing, worrying you were breathing too loud; not sure how to sit; not sure where to put your hands, not sure which eye you should be looking at when you speak to her. Her left or her right?! How do people maintain actual eye contact?

Barbara ordered a pizza and some sodas

You two are and chatted carefully, choosing your words with such precision you might as well have been a robot

Nothing really went back to normal until you two worked side by side again.

You both realized that your relationship was built on the grounds of friendship. Though awkward to being in a new relationship, you could always talk to your best friend about it

So when you're in a relationship with your best friend, it's a lot easier

You two didn't really change

The dynamic might have flared a bit. You two just sorta became more physical

Holding hands, you rubbing her shoulders absent mindedly while she types away. And she would massage your wrists with her thumbs, tracing your veins as you talked about whatever was on your mind

Basically you and she just started to make out and have sex. Aside from that, nothing changed! Nothing was awkward. You got to date your best friend, and she got to date hers!

[tofumedic]

I'm sorry it's like 1 in the morning so it's probably not even that funny, but I am losing my mind (just going completely bonkers) at the idea of pranking the brothers + Diavolo by making them fall for deez nuts/candice joke. So basically can I pls request some hcs for that? And if it's too many characters, then just Lucifer, Mammon, Beel, and Diavolo will be gr8 thanks ^_^

Lucifer, Mammon, Beelzebub + Diavolo falling for a deez nuts joke

(no bc i will do other brothers if u remind me omg i just want to get this out so fast hehehe youre perfect)

Lucifer

This poor demon, he just wanted to know why you had missed turning in your paper.

"I'm sorry, it's just.... Candice died.."

If you're around any of the other brothers too they get whiplash looking over for ones that understood, you were so brave.

"I was unaware you knew a Candice-"

Heh. He was all yours, you've done it, one of the dumbest ways to die but it was so worth it wasn't it, that smug smile on your face, the glint of unhinged mischief in your eyes.

The calm before the storm.

"Candice dick fit in your mouth"

You will be missed, the way the concern drops from his face as you wheeze, you may be Barbatos in this moment because you can see the future in the way he slowly rises from his chair.

Mammon

I'm at an impasse of whether or not this is the highly possible or impossible, mainly because I think he would enjoy them so much but sometimes he is simply not paying attention so he wouldn't catch it until after he's already been trapped.

"Y'know CDs are more popular than vinyls in the human world."

"Huh, what do you me CDs- WAIT, NO NO NO YOU N-"

"CDs nuts, Mammon."

He's so grumpy but also proud of you for being so clever, he's gonna steal this joke from you.

Beelzebub

He's such an easy target but I feel like his reaction would be so subpar of just more confusion or "oh 🧍‍♂️."

"Beel, you were playing this game with Levi yeah? It just had a gobblin expansion."

"Huh?"

"A gobblin expansion."

"What's that?"

Easy.

"Gobblin' these nuts."

"We don't have nuts, I ate them all yest- oh."

Diavolo

THIS MAN WOULD BE SO HARD TO GET AS IN HE HAS BODYGUARDS, BARBATOS WOULD JUST KNOW AND INTERFERE LIKE DIVINE INTERVENTION AND LUCIFER IS DEMONIC PEPPERSPRAY

But he would love them, maybe even repeating them with your permission though he may mess them up a bit but he's trying!!

"Diavolo, do you like pudding?"

"I do, it is a nice dessert though not a favorite, how about you MC?"

He's so sweet, but do you feel any guilt about this? Do you?

"Pudding deez nuts in your mouth."

He needs to pause but he laughs, its big and he enjoys it, congratulations.

[remakethestars]

Being Damian Wayne's Twin Sister Would Include:

Headcanons.

❝Exactly. I don't ask my dog to drive, and I don't ask the Justice League to solve my problems.❞

— Damian Wayne, Adventures of the Super Sons #9: Showdown on Hexworld

TRIGGER WARNING: Cursing, (Damian’s) death. Mentions of toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny, nightmares, blood, knives.

Headcanon masterlist.

When people ask you, “So, which one of you is the evil twin?” Damian always glowers, and you always motion to him.

You look disturbingly alike when only your eyes are showing; Damian’s got long lashes. Talia taught you a good tactic for tag-teaming in combat as kids was to pull up your hinged balaclavas and make the enemy think there was only one of you, that they’re seeing double.

Or for one of you to hang back while the other attacks as a distraction before the other knocks them out from behind.

Obviously, this won’t work when the two of you start filling out, but it works when you’re kids. It’s the reason why, even off the field, the two of you usually wear a matching outfits with hoods.

You utilize the same methods when she sends you to live with Bruce.

You don the Robin costume just like he does, much to the rest of the Batfam’s confusion (both because they weren’t expecting it and because they can’t tell you apart either), but sticking with the “red” theme, you go by Redstart.

There’s a rumor on the street that Robin V. is a meta that can teleport.

The two of you are freakishly good at mimicking the other’s voice and mannerisms, which makes it even harder for your family.

Jason tells you two about April Fools Day, and you make the most of it. Of course, Damian’s a pain in the a$$ and decides to go around pretending to be you and getting into trouble. You’re banned from the mall, and you still have no idea why. 

The two of you can communicate with just an impassive expression (Dick says it looks like a prime example of twin telepathy to anyone else), but anyone close to you knows sh¡t’s about to hit the fan when the two of you look at each other and smirk.

If it’s something you can’t communicate nonverbally, you use your cryptophasia. 

Cryptophasia is a language developed by twins when they’re learning to talk. Most of them grow out of it, you and Damian decided to keep developing it so it became more of a conlang. No one else has been taught to speak it, and they never will be. It’s for emergencies only.

Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was your Bible growing up, and the two of you call out verses when you fight together and need the other to understand a tactic (you both inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory, so you’ve got it memorized).

When you get too big to pull off the which-is-which game, you make your own costume and become the true Redstart. 

It’s basically Damian’s Robin uniform (the Super Sons’s version is the only one I’ll accept), but the boots and gloves are black, the biceps have a white stripe, the lining of the cape is white (the lining of the hood is black), the gold accents become white, it has a zipper down the front instead of clasps, and the mask becomes black (including the eyes). The waterline of the eyes is white. Like a painted redstart.

If Damian’s into animals, you’re into plants. The two of you find common ground on the fact that pollution sucks, so when you walk Titus, you take a trash bag and gloves with you to pick up litter as you go.

You did not want to go to Jon’s school. 

Not because you don’t like Jon (because you do), but because you know you could run intellectual circles around every one of those snot-nosed brats. 

School is stupid. Especially because the American education system is subpar; everything about it is.

You hardly pay attention in class. You do all of the homework a week ahead of time incase something comes up. Usually you’re doing next week’s homework in class. You’ve written entire papers on your phone in Google Docs in the middle of class to be printed out later.

If you’ve already done everything, Damian’s usually drawing and you’re daydreaming or you’re working on a case on your phone.

The teachers are always trying to catch you not paying attention, but you little sh¡ts can always answer their questions. 

Damian’s closest with Dick, but you’re closest with Tim. You admire his ability to plan ahead (see the entirety of the Red Robin comics), and you know that he’s better than both your father and your grandfather; you want to be as good as him when you grow up.

It takes a long time to wash the toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny our of your head, to learn that your grandfather’s ideas of “strength” were wrong, that it’s okay to lean on someone besides Damian, that you can be just as strong as your brother and still be feminine, that there are acceptable emotions besides anger.

Actually, your father teaches you that anger is more likely to get you killed. He won’t let you go into the field when he knows your angry.

It’s harder to drill out of you than your instinct to kill.

There’s a Lebanese restaurant called Tarbooshes (Teen Titans Special #1) the two of you go to when you’re feeling homesick. They make ox blood soup the same way your mother did, and it’s the only non-vegetarian thing Damian will eat for that very reason.

It’s nice to have a place to go where they know you by name and know what you want when you tell them “the usual.” It’s nice to have a place where you’re not a Wayne or an Al Ghul, where you’re just [Y/N] and Damian.

You disappear for an hour on your birthday to eat there. Bruce has asked you were you go, but you kept that between the two of you. 

Speaking of birthdays, you’re eleven minutes older than him. He was six pounds and ten ounces (Batman & Robin #0?), and you were a solid seven.

After Damian died, you go to Tarbooshes to feel close to him.

You were doing all right with the no-killing thing until the night Damian died.

Heretic never stood a chance.

He looked so much like Damian it gave you nightmares, though. Nightmares where you killed your twin brother and woke up sobbing.

Damian didn’t give you a speech in his last moments. He just looked over at you and said in your cryptophasia, “I’m sorry.” 

Not “I love you.” Not “Take care of them for me.” You knew that; you’d do that. He didn’t have to tell you, and he didn’t have to ask.

Just “I’m sorry.” Sorry that you were the one that was left behind.

It’s one thing to lose a family member, to lose a friend, or to lose a lover. It’s another to lose half of your soul.

The two of you had always feared you would die apart. It had always been a possibility; you weren’t stupid enough to think, “It’ll never happen to me.” Because it definitely could. 

And it had.

You wanted to run away from everything. Even just for a while. Go to one of your safe houses in London or France or whatever and just — you didn’t know — stare at the wall until you felt better? But you’d made that unspoken promise to Damian — “I’ll take care of them for you; don’t worry.” — to take care of Titus and Catfred and Jerry and Batcow and Goliath, to take care of Alfred and Bruce and Dick and Jason and Cassandra and Tim, to take care of Jon and Colin and Maps.

You avoided the cave. And if you had to go down there for some reason, you refused to look at the Robin suits.

Dick noticed. He asked if you wanted them taken down, even just for a while. You gave him a look like he was nuts and said, “No.”

Jon was a mess. More of a mess than you were, somehow. 

You’d shown up at the Kents’s. Jon was out doing Superboy things with Clark and Conner. Lois was the only one home.

You nearly scared her out of her skin when you materialized behind her and asked, “Is Jon home? It’s important.” 

He had to know first. He deserved to.

For all he put up with from you two, he deserved to be the first to know when one of you was f*cking dead.

Lois, of course, bless her heart, had the mom instincts to know that you were in no way, shape, or form okay even when you were trying so hard to hold yourself together. She asked you what’s wrong, and it’s what made you break. 

Your lip trembled. “He’s gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

“Damian,” your voice broke. “He’s dead.” 

Jon came home to find you in his living room in your Robin uniform, covered in Damian’s and Heretic’s blood, snot running down your lip, sobbing in his mothers arms and knew what happened without having to ask. He did anyway.

When you and Jon both finally passed out, your Uncle Clark flew you back to the Batcave. No one was in any condition — not even Alfred — so he carried you up to your room; took your boots, mask, cape, and gloves off; and tucked you in. Then he went to find Bruce because there was no doubt he was losing it too.

Bruce doesn’t tell you anything about trying to find a way to bring him back without the Lazarus pit because he doesn’t want to get your hopes up. 

You walk into your room one day to find Damian sitting there reading the dissertation (the requirement was three pages, not 120, but your teacher would just have to deal with your coping mechanisms) you had been working on for your World History class and left up on your laptop while on patrol. 

He said with the utmost indifference, “You’ve made some good points, Sister,” and, of course, you pulled out a knife and attacked him because this was — was — was some shapeshifting alien or hologram tech or a cruel joke — your twin was dead, this wasn’t funny, whoever did this was going to pay.

He met you blow-for-blow and flipped away from you before saying, “And here I was expecting a warm welcome,” in your cryptophasia. 

“Brother?” 

“Tt. Obviously.” 

Yeah, a college level thesis. You’re smart. You inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory and were raised by assassins.

You learned seven languages and wrote five doctoral theses by the time your teeth came in, wrote your first letter to a newspaper editor when you were two, could’ve had a geology doctorate when you were seven (Super Sons #1), and it only took you a week to learn the language on Takron-Galtos. You’re smart.

You’re also incredibly skilled. You learned to drive when you were five (Super Sons #1), your mother trained you to go for weeks without eating (Adventures of the Super Sons #6), you can micro-sleep for days and converse with half your brain asleep, can use a muscular contraction to move your liver out of the way of a blade (Nightwing #20), and can place yourself in a deep trance to heal damages caused by a hematoma (also #20).

(My dumba$$ didn’t note what Super Sons/Adventure of the Super Sons comic I was reading when I took notes, so I don’t have all of them noted in the two above bullet points. But that’s where they’re from. If I end up rereading them, I’ll edit this and add the comic numbers.)

The first time on patrol you thought Bruce was gonna die, you called him Baba. 

The next evening, when Dick came to visit the cave, he turned to you and Damian and asked, “So, which one of you called him Dad?” 

“How’d you know?” you asked. 

“He’s smiling the way he did the day I called him Tati.”

“He’s not smiling,” Damian pointed out.

“He is on the inside.”

Can we talk about how royally the Arkham Knights game screwed up Tim Drake? (Though, everything seems to screw up Tim one way or another, I guess.) Why does he look like a quidditch player in the gif above the cut?

Visit my headcanon masterlist.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ I’m a dumb white American, and I don’t know much about Arab or Romani culture other than what I’ve learned online. I hope I got it right?? If I didn’t, please drop a comment or P.M. me or something to let me know!

[randombtsprincessa]

Be My Teacher

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (She/Her) (2nd person written in third perspective)

Words: 2.2k

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Rating: Mature (18+)

Summary: You ask your best friend turned boyfriend to show you how he likes his blowjobs.

Warning: I am swerving dangerously in the Jungkook lane. Discussion on BJs, explicit smut scene, detailed description of oral (male receiving).

A/N: Happy Birthday to bunny boy Jeon Jungkook! Banner is by yours truly! Let me know how you like it, thanks!

Music Companion -  Myth Syzer - Bonbon a la menthe (Stwo Remix)

“So…you…hmm want, what?”

If you thought that you would get off scot free rolling your eyes at this moment, you would have. Granted, maybe it would’ve displayed a good bit of power play, considering you were on your knees but right now, it wasn’t about that.

At least, you were trying hard not to make it so – but it was so difficult when you were so used to doing so with him.

Jungkook was sat slouching in the easy chair in the living room of his ‘bachelor pad’. His legs parted, accommodating you to sit daintily upon your folded legs, already getting numb from the static position. The hem of his sweatshirt rose up just so, resting along his abdomen and giving you a tantalizing glimpse at his toned stomach.

For Jungkook, he would’ve opened his legs and allowed anything to be done to his body, because it was you. He had worked hard for you, and he knew you did the same for him. So when you’d moved in front of him, clad only in a soft cashmere shirt that was two sizes too big on you, it was obvious for him to turn off the game he was watching to give you all his attention

Especially, since you’d given him a smile that made hair rise up on the back of his neck and throat to go dry.

But when you’d sunk down, looking every bit the temptress that you were, innocent and big eyed and said that, well…he had to admit, he was confused and maybe mildly concerned.

“I want you to show me,” You repeated, slower for his benefit, “How you like head.”

Jungkook was already sitting up, elbows leaning against his knees. “Baby, it’s…you don’t have to, I mean, I don’t,” He was stammering, stumbling on his words as if he wasn’t an active young adult but then, he also knew that as your boyfriend, as your best fucking friend; he couldn’t allow you to think your blowing skills were subpar.

Considering that you and he had just recently gotten together after a brief stint of mutual pining and a clichéd confession. Nothing sexual, save a few minor kisses had happened.

“Kook,” He stopped at your sigh of his nickname. “Stop fretting so much; I just,” Your hands reached out, placing very deliberately on his knees, just shy of his elbows. “Want to make you feel good; just show me how you like it.”

The words were whispered, sending a small shiver down Jungkook’s spine. The earlier concerns about your sexual security in the relationship were long gone, replaced by the realization of your actual intentions.

You were teasing and gratifying him at the same time.

Fuck, how did he resist throwing you on to a bed and having his way with you for so long?

Very slowly, keeping his eyes on you as if you were going to pounce and chomp down on him, he returned to his slouching slump, hands bunching the hem of his shirt.

“I’d like anything you do to me.” He said finally.

“That’s nice, babe. I’d like to do what you want me to do.”

Fuck, Jungkook’s blood was racing, pounding through his ear drums. There was nowhere he could go, no where he could avert his eyes and by god…nothing more he wanted to do than fist your hair in his hands as you took his cock in your mouth.

“Okay,” He gritted his teeth, rubbing along the jean clad length of his thighs. “Okay.” He agreed.

Something glittered behind your eyes, something that he had been privy to for years now but was now on the receiving end of. It ignited a slow fire under his skin, flushing him with uncomfortable heat that signaled arousal.

He knew his cock was calling to her now, could almost hear its song, and he was absolutely sure you could.

He had this, he told himself.

You watched him headily, waiting his first instruction when you saw the same fire dancing behind his gaze that had made you approach him. You’d caught sight of him from his bedroom doorway, one hand fiddling with the remote and his leg bouncing.

Not the most alluring sight, you’d admit; but it was Jungkook. Would you be human if you didn’t find him absolutely delectable in any position?

And so, like a moth to his light, you drew closer, shucking off your trousers behind the couch.

“Unzip me, take it out.” He said and you blinked, accepting the first instruction and straightening.

Quick, eager fingers moved to the button of his jeans, deftly pulling the two sides of his pants together to undo the button, hooking your index around the zip to slide it down. Something nudged under your wrist and you couldn’t help but shoot me an impish grin.

Jungkook chuckled, his serious expression breaking like a storm cloud as he relaxed. His hips squirmed, rising up so you could pull the jeans and black briefs he wore down to the top of his thighs. The band constricted his legs, making him huff and tug them down lower till they were being kicked off completely, landing haphazardly somewhere behind you.

He watched your eyes run the length up his now naked legs, the muscles of his thighs flexing under the scrutiny when they paused at the one body part of his that required…no, needed, the attention right now. He wouldn’t be ashamed to confess, this whole thing was pretty damn exciting and it had reflected on his shaft, poking up and saluting you, infused with all his brain cells and then some.

“So,” His voice came out dry, gulping down saliva before trying again. “Um, touch it.”

Your pupils were blowing out, as you with no hesitation wrapped a hand around his base. Your grip was much looser than he was used to and he grunted in dissatisfaction. He looked at you, the twitch of your lips catching his attention.

“Tighter,” he ordered, a soft gasp escaping him when you immediately obeyed.

Minx, he laughed internally, you wanted him to be commanding? He’d give you what you wanted.

“Good girl,” He gave you a wide, all teeth showing grin when your eyes flashed up to him and fuck, he knew he’d hit the nail right on the head. “Now give it a tug.”

Your hand softened around the length, slowly rising up to the head before back down, repeating the action twice, thrice, four times. Jungkook let his head drop back, sighing in the relief of touch, of your touch. “Mm,” he glanced down at the dick, his head glistening with oozing precum and nodded at you. “Use it, make it wet before you use your mouth.”

The feeling of your thumb, rubbing along the softer, more sensitive head, dipping into the opening and collecting the near clear slick had him opening his mouth in a silent groan, feeling the pressure cause the liquid to drip down the shaft along with your hands, coating it in smoothness.

He looked down at you, your eyes fixed on his face, examining and relishing in each minute expression. His own eyes had completely blackened; the dark antelope eyes of his now blazing with restrained lust.

“Y/N,” His voice was hoarse, and he made no effort to appear cool and collected anymore. “Fuck, suck it. Please, take me in your mouth.”

Your gazes suspended for a full second, words no longer necessary. You kept your eyes on his, leaning in as slowly as you could, extending the period of anticipation for him when finally he could feel your hot breath waft across his glans. His eyes fluttered, unable to hold your eyes any further when you opened your mouth and deliberately placed the thick head on the very tip of your tongue.

It was experimental, being your first time sucking your new boyfriend and best friend’s dick. There was almost no taste of the skin itself, save for the near salty-sour combination of his precum. It flooded over your taste buds as you took him in deeper, pacing the inches, the width, finally letting it rest just at the back of your mouth, teasing your throat canal.

Over you, Jungkook had gone stiff. His eyes were closed, scrunched tightly, his big nose twitched, his bottom lip was gripped by his teeth so tightly you worried he’d bite it off.

You pulled his cock out, a ‘pop’ signaling him to grunt at the sudden loss of heat around him. He opened his eyes, looking at you.

“Relax, Kook,” You smiled, rubbing his head around the seal of your lips. “It’s just a blowjob.”

He so did not have this. Jungkook’s brain had short circuited, watching you with zero replies, zero retorts which was completely unlike him.

His eyes remained glazed when he saw you take him in again, deeper this time, your lips moving over the couple inches more that vanished inside the cavern of your hot mouth. He could feel your tongue laving over the vein on the underside of his cock, pressing onto the sensitive skin hard enough to send the jolt up to his diaphragm.

His hand moved, stroking over your head, feeling the smooth strands of your hair filter through his fingertips. The smell of your shampoo was in his nostrils, so familiar, so you and he wrapped a carefully collected bunch around his palm, examining the taut rein that he now held.

He had half a mind to yank, gently of course to not hurt or distract you from where you were still suckling on him but instead he chose to push you further down on him. He still had an eye on your face, taking in your sudden widening of the eyes and the parting of the mouth with satisfaction. He had one on you, he would’ve grinned – had your next move not scored you one more than him.

You dropped down on him with more force now, the tip of his cock brushing past the seam of your throat and straight past, breaching in. The muscles of your esophagus closed on him, further tightening in and Jungkook buckled under your hold, finally erupting in a restraint less moan that reverberated through the walls of the room and back to you. His hold tightened and slackened periodically, unable to make his mind to whether to guide you or just allow himself to be flooded away.

That one moan had you groaning as well, the feel of his copious slick coating your throat now having you close your own eyes and enjoying in just his sounds.

The taste of him, the musk of his skin surrounded you, invaded you and it felt so dirty but so enthralling, you wished for it to last forever. However, judging from the way Jungkook was squirming now, his hips canting and rolling to further get himself into you, mild thrusts accompanied by his grunting and groaning; you knew he was close.

His length throbbed, pulsated, engorging into your mouth itself, stretching your poor lips almost painfully but you’d be damned if you pulled him out now. Your hands catered to the rest of his length, slipping down to press down along his balls, tight and heavy from the building release you wanted deep in your throat.

“Babe – Baby – not going to last, god please,” His voice broke on the last syllable and you gave one final push to yourself, straining as you sunk down on him completely, your face almost burying into his lap.

And you gave one last, hard suck…

Jungkook came in a mess of trashing and choked expletives. His body arced off of the chair, nails digging into the arm rest and his feet bounced off the floor. His head bowed to his chests as he cursed heavily, none of them too coherent and you watched as his sweaty mop of hair flopped into his eyes. Thick streams of his release launched down your mouth, slipping down without even an effort to swallow while the rest painted across your lips and chin, dribbling over his clothes and skin as his violent climax nearly pushed you off of him.

You settled to rubbing your soiled hands over his length, set on milking out every drop of cum he had to offer, marveling when the rest of the clear, whitish liquid oodles out. He moaned at that, loud, swollen lips parting before he slumped back, boneless.

His fried brain didn’t stop him from grabbing onto you however, hold light around your wrist as he hauled you right off the floor and into his chest.

“Fuck; that was the best orgasm I’ve had in all my life and we didn’t even have sex yet.” He whispered; voice croaky from all the near screaming he did.

You laughed, your earlier bravado melting into shyness, your hands tugging at the sticky shirt that had become uncomfortable on your skin. You also needed to wash your hands.

“Kookie, let me up, I need a shower…and brush my teeth.” You tilted your own head against his, feeling him nuzzle against your chest for a moment, considering the request.

“Alright,” He huffed, releasing you so you could skip down the hall and shut yourself into his bathroom, leaving him behind to collect what wits he could find – an evil grin slipping onto his face at the prospect of returning the favor – before, his eyes drooped into a sated slumber.

[hansolmates]

cherry contact |🍒

summary: jihoon has access to all versions of you - your credit score, shopping habits, work emails, even your terrible tinder history. pairing; fbi agent!jihoon x civilian!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, it’s really just that “your fbi agent” meme that caused everyone 8 years ago to put tape over their webcams, questionable viewing habits for an fbi agent, language, dick talk, mentions of sex, jihoon has feelings and is confused, he is a PINER, tw—sexual harassment  w/c; 3.3k  a/n; i can’t believe i finished this😭😭 part of meraki’s job collaboration and i’ve been dying to do a svt collab since the dawn of time and finally today’s the day! it’s been a hot moment since i’ve written for jihoon, glad i managed to get those svt writing muscles going! a huge thank you to @merakiiverse​ and @woozisnoots​ for putting this together. readers pls definitely check back on the masterlist linked above to see more of the other talented cwc writers and their rendition of the job prompt!

if you like this fic please consider giving it a like n’share!🤓🖥🤓🖥

“Kevin, 32, works at Kodak,” you scroll further to the description, “I love being tied up and need a dominatrix, have swing at home—no.” Swipe right. 

“Lisa, 24, works at Infinity Dance Studio,” you definitely are weak for athletic ladies, “My hobbies include cuticle care and online shopping! Looking for a sugar daddy or mommy that can spoil me rotten—definitely can’t afford that kind of relationship.” Swipe right. 

“Hansol, 26, works in an art museum,” sounds promising, you love art, “wait, why are all his pictures of him holding fish? Is he inside a fish? Who the heck finds that attractive?” Swipe right. 

“Billiam, 31, works in finance. Needs a bratty baby girl who can triangle,” you grimace, “what is with these guys and stating their kinks from the get-go? Gotta take a girl out to dinner first, and the fuck is a triangle?” 

You swore off Tinder since the dark ages, also known as senior year of college. However you’re in a particular slump, thirst-trapped between needing some serious dick and a committed relationship. You’d prefer the latter, but after a stressful day at work and the fact that it’s the ass crack o’dawn, you’ll take what you can get. 

“Bye Billiam,” you sing-song into your phone, moving to swipe right. 

Except you accidentally drop your phone between your sheets, and when you pick it up you accidentally swipe left. 

“Fuck fuck fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget!” you cry out into oblivion. You’re so glad you live alone at the very least, it stops you from looking like a crazy person when you talk your potential sexipades out. 

Billiam has Super-liked you! 

“No. Nononono—” you bludgeon your head against your pillow, frowning when your phone opens up a chat for you and Billiam. 

Billiam: hi can u check if my dick is too small

You: please, don’t send me a picture of your dick. 

Billiam is typing… 

You: for fuck’s sake—

“—that’s disgusting,” Jihoon curses, and immediately sends out the screenshot for sexual harassment. 

“What’s disgusting?” Mingyu chimes, swiveling in his spinny chair from his side of the room.

“Don’t look,” Jihoon gags, reaching for a bottle of Coca-Cola from the mini-fridge. “You’ll throw up your fried chicken.” 

“My person is a twenty-one year old nympho who also happens to be a incel,” Mingyu chastises to his screen, closing up the eighth tab of BBC porn he’s seen this week, “he doesn’t know how well he’s avoiding the FBI’s eyes,” Mingyu shakes his head, “so I’ve seen some pretty bad shit, but I’ll take your word for it.” 

“No,” he echoes your name like you’ve done the most heinous thing in the world, “no, no! Why would you swipe left on Jackson? You’re way out of his league! He literally looks like he has a pea-sized brain!” 

“He does look like he has half a brain cell,” your voice reverberates through his noise-cancelling headphones, unknowingly agreeing to Jihoon’s passionate throw of anger, “but I’m deprived and desperate, so!” 

It’s like you can hear his sentiments exactly. 

“Literally, you could have any person you want,” Jihoon chastises through his desktop, glaring heavily at your bedroom camera, “you’re wasting your time with these losers!” 

Oblivious, you let yourself dangle across the bed. The camera isn’t the best quality, but Jihoon watches intently at the rise and fall of your chest as you attempt to fall into a fitful sleep. 

“Some yell at screens for soccer,” Minghao says to the air from his cubicle, “some yell for Starcraft, but Jihoon yells for Tinder like it’s an Olympic sport.” 

“Jihoonie,” Mingyu rolls around his chair, resting a long arm over the backrest, “do you have a crush on your civilian?” 

Jihoon immediately swivels around his hair, meeting the amused eyes of Mingyu. “No,” he says sharply, whipping around to glare at his screen. 

He glares harder the longer Mingyu’s simple question sinks in. He doesn’t have a crush on you, he likes you. Jihoon swallows his sigh, wondering why you would want to go as low as Tinder to look for a potential tryst. From your profile, you’re absolutely beautiful and intelligent. You have simple pleasures that match his—a hot cup of tea right after dark, snuggling under a weighted blanket while watching anime, and sleeping in on Sundays.

Unlike him, you don’t see the world through half a dozen lenses and a plethora of information right at your fingertips. No, you’re lucky. 

“Hey can you grab me my water bottle?” Mingyu asks over his shoulder. 

Jihoon thinks nothing of it, leaving his post for the thirty seconds it takes to get to the mini-fridge and grab Mingyu’s Hydroflask. 

“You got a call,” Mingyu says when he plops the bottle on his desk, indicating to the red blinker on Jihoon’s computer. 

It isn’t until he puts on his headphones does he take care to see why his blinker is going off. 

He’s getting an incoming call. From you. 

You’ve been waiting on the line for about two minutes. He lets two additional minutes breeze by because Jihoon is internally screaming. You’re calling again. There’s a fire blazing in his brain, his fingers hot as he twitches against the spacebar of his keyboard. 

From the monitor he can see that you’ve given up on sleep, hands pawing through your drawer so you can take a final swipe at your magenta-tinted lip balm before nesting yourself in the sheets. You’re kicking around as if you don’t have work at 9AM, smacking your lips to apply the shiny salve while you wait for your call to be picked up. 

“Why is my civilian calling me,” it isn’t a question, it’s a thinly veiled indication that Jihoon is ready to fight whoever compromised him like this. 

Mingyu and Minghao fail to answer. That’s okay, he isn’t opposed to killing both if neither fess up. 

It would be so easy for him to ignore the call, or redirect it to another part of the office. Yet he aches to talk to you, for real talk to you. As if you’re just two regular plain-old human beings with normal lives, and as if he didn’t know every nook and cranny about your daily routine and your favorite breakfast foods.

Call it pride, call it confidence, but Jihoon’s been pretty good at games and he hopes prior experience helps him get over this hurdle. Slipping on his headset, he accepts the call and answers in a controlled voice, “This is the local hotline for sexual harassment reports, are you here to report a case?” 

Okay, so this is the closest thing he can get to having a full-fledged conversation with you, so he’ll take it. 

“Hi,” you mumble your name into the phone, and he nearly disintegrates right then and there. It’s different when he can hear your voice directly in his ears, definitively reaching out to him as opposed to being a fly on the wall, “I received an email that a report was sent out for my previous chat as sexual harassment, but I didn’t send out a report.” 

“Yes,” Jihoon replies smoothly, tapping his nails against his thighs, “it’s a new update.” 

“Oh, well thank you,” you reply, and Jihoon sees from the camera that you’re staring at your phone in curiosity. 

“It’s my job,” he says, and the words hold more weight than you think, “are you okay?” 

“Is it also your job to ask how I’m doing?” 

He smiles wryly, and he looks up at the monitor to see how you’ve considerably relaxed on your bed. Your legs dangle in the air, and you’re hugging a mango plushie with all the love in the world. “Not really, but I figured I’d ask. I don’t think I’d be able to recover from a dick that looks like an unhinged toenail.” 

Your laugh flutters in his ears, and his stomach is flip-flopping with more than just his shitty ramen lunch. Your face curls and wrinkles into happiness at the lewd joke, and you rest your chin on your stuffed fruit. 

“I’m okay,” you finally answer, “it’s not the first time I’ve seen subpar dick. But thank you… what’s your name?” 

“Uji,” he says, a codename that he considers as precious as his actual name, “feel free to call or text this number if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable and in distress.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night Uji.” 

“Good night.” 

That wasn’t so bad, Jihoon thinks as he hangs up the phone. He dims the monitors to let you freshen up and get ready for bed, as per your schedule. After tonight, he hopes he can be sated with his curiosity of you. Maybe he needs to follow your plans and open up a dating account or something, he feels that he’s starting to get a little too engrossed in your presence. 

The waning starts today. 

You: help, i’m feeling uncomfortable and in distress

Uji: what is it this time? 

You: i can’t decide which weighted blanket i should get. Will more weight make me feel more comforted or will i accidentally suffocate myself in my sleep? 

The waning of you did not start that night, in fact it never began. Jihoon’s been on edge for weeks, simultaneously teetering between what he calls the high-school equivalent of the talking stage and an absolute catastrophe. 

It started as an accident, you meant to call your friend’s number for cooking help but since the last call before your friends was his, you called Jihoon instead. To your surprise, he knew how to roll out homemade pasta without a pasta machine. You kept him on the call for the entirety of dinner preparation, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride when your pasta turned out perfect and you were happy and full for the entire night. 

Weeks later, and you’ve been texting each other for shits and giggles. At first you chalk up your insistence that he’s basically Human Google and has the answers to seemingly anything and everything, but over time it seems that you enjoy your daily interactions with him. Whether it be a simple phone call asking how to unclog your drain or a screenshot comparing two different KitchenAids, he’s at your disposal. 

The burner phone he’s been holding as of late is on silent, but he’s able to pick it up immediately. It’s almost intuition, coupled with the way he notices whenever you seem in a pickle and you need to contact him. However he does not have a chance to formulate a reply, as you’re now calling him.

“Couldn’t wait?” he speaks as if you’re familiar with each other, as if you’re friends. Jihoon longs for that so much, he would love to be upgraded to someone other than the IT guy you text for funsies. 

“Yes,” you say, voice laced with determination, “I’m deciding on whether to just like or Super-Like this guy on Light a Flame.” 

Jihoon deflates a little, but steels himself. You’d never want to go on a date with the IT guy, it seems that you enjoy the anonymity of your recent communications. Your conversations are definitely meme-worthy. 

“Who is it?” 

“His name’s Lee Jihoon, 25, works in the FBI.” 

He chokes on his coffee, precious beans from Argentina, and the liquid is flying across his keyboard. 

Pulling up your phone view, it confirms the worst. In a moment of Weakness with a capital W, Jihoon had caved and made a Light a Flame profile the other night. It’s an app reserved for more serious relationships, which means you’ve finally graduated from Tinder. 

“Are you okay?” he wants to cry when he hears you on the other line, genuinely panicked. “Do you need me to send you his profile?” 

“N-no,” he sputters, rubbing a rough napkin from McDonalds over his dripping chin. He thought he privated his profile last week after he realized there was nothing he could do to let loose of you. Turns out that isn’t the case, because you’re currently pursuing his profile and actually kinda-sorta considering him for a potentially serious relationship. 

“C’mon, Uji,” you tease lightly, “you always seem to know what to do. This is your area of expertise after all, since you work for that kind of department.” 

What should he do, scratch that, what can he do? It’s a complete violation of policy to be fraternizing with his civilian life. Sure, there has been episodes of civilians and agents meeting each other, but only minor violations that both parties forgot about shortly after. He’s so far deep at this point, he can risk being relocated or losing his civilian—losing you. 

“Do you think he really works in the FBI?” you say when he doesn’t reply immediately, “he’s really cute, though. Totally looks like my style, and he likes My Hero as well! C’mon, I just need for you to check as to whether he’s a homicidal maniac or a compulsive liar.” 

Liar. He’s a liar. 

That self-accusation prompts him to slump in defeat, and he mumbles in the phone, “I don’t think he’s worth it. I’d say pass.” 

“Hey, Coups has seniority,” Soonyoung pats Jihoon thoughtfully on the back with one hand, and grilling meat with the other. Barbeque always lifted up Jihoon’s spirits. “Why don’t you give it a chance and meet her for real? And then he can give me your super cute civilian and then he can give my shitty civilian to some newbie.” 

“And if it doesn’t work out, I just lose her,” Jihoon’s eyes are watering, most likely from the excess smoke around their grill, but it does align with his current state of sadness. It was the right thing to do, he thinks over and over as he replays that phonecall from last night. “Hoshi, if you were in my situation, would you have done the same?” 

“Like I said–” Soonyoung—codename Hoshi, waves his tongs around like a magic wand, “your civilian is super cute, so I would be making a beeline to her house and—” 

“Okay, don’t finish that sentence,” you’re his civilian, not Soonyoung’s. 

“Cheer up, c’mon,” Soonyoung’s filling his bowl with all sorts of delicious things, charred vegetables, mixed rice, and pork belly. Jihoon’s favorite is pork belly, so eventually he relents with a timid smile, taking out his chopsticks to appease his friend, “there it is, Uji. Food always makes things better—” 

“Uji?” 

Both off-duty agents freeze, hearing the familiar ting of your voice as it glares holes into Jihoon’s back. It’s you. Since they’re off the clock, he would have no idea you’d be here. Usually that’s fine, it’s early morning and it’s pretty unlikely that you’d run into your civilian considering you’re supposed to know every second of their schedule. It seems that tonight you’ve varied from the norm. 

“Uh, hey?” 

His back is still facing you, and he’s side eying Soonyoung in a panic. He’s wearing a cap and a nondescript hoodie, feeling like a shlub as your familiar voice pings back at him with excitement. 

“I knew I recognized your voice!” you’re unfazed, definitely not realizing the distress the two men are currently going through. “What a small world, I didn’t think we’d ever actually run into each other!” 

“Talk to her, you ass!” Soonyoung hisses, and immediately swivels his chair so he has no choice but to face you.

You’re so, so pretty. Prettier in person, prettier than any crappy 480p screen can give him. You’re definitely not dressed for barbeque, in fact you look like you’re just passing by to pick up a to-go order after a night out. You’re dressed in a silky looking velvet off-the-shoulder top, the cherry red color practically melting onto your skin. The black skirt paired with it has Jihoon salivating for more than just barbeque, and he has no idea how to look away. 

The smile is wiped clean off your face however, and you recognize him almost immediately. “Jihoon?” 

This should be a moment of joy for him, after all it’s far too late to go back at this point. You look a little hurt, your face twisted in confusion as you put two and two together. 

Soonyoung excuses himself to go to the bathroom, although neither party seems to care. The lame, over-distended EDM music that plays over the cacophony of the barbeque place seems to melt in the atmosphere, much like how the smoke hits the fan, and it’s just you two in the room. Jihoon gestures a pale hand to Soonyoung’s seat, and you take a beat to reluctantly sit yourself down. 

You clutch your skirt with both hands, thumbs ringing against the pleats and ironing them out. “So, you’re also Jihoon?” your voice is tiny, small and sad. Jihoon feels liquid guilt inject in his veins, and he wishes he could reach out and pat your shoulder, hold your hand, something. However no matter how much he knows you, he’s a stranger to you. “Why did you lie to me?” 

“It’s… complicated,” you shake your head at his pathetic reply, and Jihoon hates this. He feels like he’s drowning in smoke and mirrors and the cloying scent of pork belly is now sticking to all his senses, immobilizing him. 

With a cross of your arms, you scoff, “It’s always complicated.” 

“Please don’t think I said those things the other night because I don’t want to date you,” Jihoon tumbles the words out like a hamster wheel, wanting to speed up to your pace as fast as he can, “I want to, I really do, but it’s—”

“Complicated.” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you sit in silence, letting the noise back into your little bubble. Jihoon feels his stare on you, akin to how a teacher looks over your shoulder during an exam. He robotically eats rice, grain after grain as he lets you have your look. 

The slope of his nose, the cotton smooth skin, the lean yet strong stature. You can’t believe he matches the Light a Flame profile perfectly. Other than the frumpy clothes, he matches the man on your phone, a simple picture in a black suit that reminds you strangely of the movie Kingsman. You mentally roll through what you remember from his profile, his hobbies, his likes and dislikes, his occupation—

“Wait,” you pause, your brows knitting together, “so the FBI thing on your profile… is not a joke?” 

Jihoon forgets to chew his last bite, and he swallows a whole two centimeters of meat down his throat. Ouch. 

“It’s—” 

“Complicated.” 

The adjective has a whole new meaning now. It’s crazy how in so little words, so much is exchanged between you two. You might not be realizing it, but Jihoon’s so attuned to you he feels like the pick to your guitar, strumming and humming along your chords like it’s second nature. It really isn’t fair, but anticipating your reactions helps greatly. 

“There’s things you’re not telling me.” 

“Right.” 

“And things you can’t tell me,” you add. 

“Yes.” 

“Then what are some things you can tell me?” 

“I’d… rather not here,” Jihoon’s eyes dart around the room, looking for all the pinholes and micro cams attached to the restaurant. By the bonsai, under the table, in the koi tank, “I need to work out some paperwork before anything.” 

“Paperwork?” 

Jihoon nods mutely, but he looks at you with a litany of emotions in his eyes you’re reeling back in your stool. Why do you feel like this man knows you from a simple five-minute interaction? And why do you feel like you can trust this man with your life? 

“Okay,” you finally say. 

“Really? Okay?” you think he’s cute, the way his eyes perk up and his back straightens. 

“Really.” 

Silence fills the space once more. This time however, it feels more at ease. 

“The only reason why I’m saying yes,” you pretend to nonchalantly play with your fingertips, a manicure reserved for a date you’ve long abandoned for this evening in favor of a new flame, “is because I think FBI agents are kinda hot.” 

A flush blooms on Jihoon’s cheeks, and you can’t help but giggle. 

[seraphdreams]

It’s been a stressful week. From midterms and annoying ass group projects you’re fed up and frustrated both mentally and sexually. All you want is for Connie to fuck you until all you know is his name and the feel of his cock but he refuses to give you that A1 pito until you get rid of your boyfriend.

He hasn’t booted your mom yet so it’s honestly just a game to see who’s going to cave first. You didn’t mean for it to happen but you couldn’t help the way you squeezed around Connie’s length due to the situation you’d been caught in.

Your boyfriend had come over claiming that y’all needed to talk. A talk which ended up with him between your legs but to be honest as much as he tried he couldn’t get you wet, not until you started thinking about the way Connie felt. The things he did to your mind and body made you gush. Once he pushes his length in you’re snapped back to the reality that it’s not Connie on top of you. You were bored and horny so you let him rut against you and faked a couple moans for his ego knowing you we gonna dump him right after.

You don’t hear your bedroom door open but the voice that speaks has you pushing the male off of you.

“Are you really such a desperate little brat that you go to this subpar muthafucker for sex?”

“You weren’t giving me any.” You reply with an eye roll which doesn’t go unnoticed by Connie.

“Over here now! Ass up, face down princess and you,” he points at your soon to be ex. “Hopefully you’ll learn something from this.”

Connie wastes no time in sinking his length into you,fucking you just the way you like. Doesn’t even have to try and get you wet because the cocky fucker knows the effect he has on you.

“Hear that? That’s how she sounds when she’s enjoying herself. See this?” He asks swiping his fingers through your folds, holding them up to the light and spreading them apart to show off how much of a mess he’s made you and he’s barely touched you.

“She’s a messy lil thing and mediocre dick like yours doesn’t deserve to be between these fucking thighs.”

He goes to complain but Connie cuts him off. “Get the fuck outta my house or sit and watch how a man truly pleases his woman. Your choice dumbass.”

OH? steppapí connie teaching your bf how to really please you🥺 even going as far as to fucking you stupid until you can’t even speak a sentence. your boyfriend really gets the lesson now

also, do you want to be an emoji anon?

[hookingminor]

three lessons (2) - mat barzal

a/n: kinda blacked out and just wrote all of this I have no idea if its even good also thank you for all the love on part 1, I love receiving feedback, I always read the tags y’all add thank you so much

word count: 4.2k

warnings (18+): loss of virginity, smut

*italics are flashbacks

PART ONE HERE / PART THREE

-

“So what made you come up with this idea?” Mat asked when you cuddled back up to finish the movie. After you’d hugged him to death in a thank you, he gave you his shirt to slip on before asking if you wanted to finish the movie. You felt a little awkward just using him to make you cum and then leaving, so you agreed.

He’d been wondering for the past week why you were doing this. When you came to him that first day, he was too in shock to process. You were so confident in your answers, he didn’t question your intentions. Right now, he was hoping they weren’t misguided and that he didn’t just give you your first orgasm because you’d given into peer pressure.

“You’re going to think it’s stupid,” you said, running your fingers lightly over the arm wrapped around your waist.

“Try me,” he persisted.

“Well, my friends are always talking about their sex lives, and I kind of felt left out, you know? It’s not like I was saving myself or felt pressured to do it, I just wanted to get it over with. I know that sounds bad, but I wanted to start moving on with my life, I guess,” you explained, “And it’s not like the opportunity was going to arise for me naturally any time soon.”

“That doesn’t sound stupid, if that’s what you want to do. I know a lot of girls take this seriously, so I just wanted to know,” he said.

“That’s never really been me,” you replied, “I just never got far enough into a relationship with someone to actually do it. I’ve only ever gone on a couple dates,” you added the last part sheepishly.

“Soon enough you’ll be taking on the whole town, though. You’ve got that to look forward to,” Mat said with a laugh, easing the tension in the room. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel embarrassed or insecure.

You chuckled at his joke, feeling yourself relax, “If they’re all half as good as you, I’ll be having the time of my life.”

“Might be a little hard…” Mat contemplated, “I have been told I’m a very gracious lover…”

“I’d chirp you if I could but I don’t really have any experience to go off of so I’ll let you have this one,” you teased back.

“Give it a few months. I’ll be waiting for your final answer,” he said, nipping playfully at your earlobe.

“I’ll be sure to give you my full reports,” you threw back with an eye roll, sarcasm lacing your voice.

-

When you left Mat’s apartment, he promised he’d text you later to tell you his availability in the upcoming weeks.

His availability happened to be very limited over the next week and a half considering he had two home games before he had to leave for a short roadie. Obviously, neither of you could do anything about that, but as the days passed, you felt your insides grow in anticipation. You’d only had one little taste, and you were already about to beg him for more. Maybe it was a good thing you hadn’t had sex until now, you had a feeling you were going to be an insatiable lover. You’d nearly gotten yourself off daily just replaying the memories of Mat’s tongue on you.

It was almost two weeks from your first lesson when you finally talked about your next one.

Mat: You busy this weekend?

Your heart sped up quickly as you typed your response.

You: I’m free every evening after 5

Mat: Want to come over Friday night around 8? Plan to stay the night

You: Oh? What’s the plan this time?

Mat: Come over and you’ll find out

You: … I guess I can fit you into my schedule

Mat: See you then, baby

-

Friday came quickly, much more quickly than you thought it would. All the mental preparation in the world couldn’t help the nerves that wracked your body that day. The classes you had passed in a blur, you weren’t even sure if you even paid attention to any of your professors. You had a study group session planned after your last class, but you decided to skip since you figured your brain wouldn’t be able to focus for another hour.

Then 5pm rolled around, and you were beginning to get restless. You tried making yourself dinner beforehand, but the thought of eating anything made you want to throw up. It’s not like you were nervous, per se, but more anxious as you thought about what Mat had in mind for the night. You hoped it was sex.

God, you really hoped it was sex. Two weeks had you wound tight like an old clock, and you hadn’t even touched his dick yet.

And now you were thinking about his dick, which didn’t help your focus at all.

You spent the next couple hours getting ready. Forty-five minutes were spent in the shower, shaving just about everything you could. You didn’t know Mat’s preference, but it was better to be safe than sorry your first time around, right? The next half hour was spent blow-drying your hair and doing your makeup. And the last hour was spent deciding what to wear. It shouldn’t have taken you that long, but you couldn’t choose which one was better. Not to say that you bought a couple options of lingerie, but a girl only lost her virginity once; you were going to make this count.

Eventually, you settled on a black set, spending extra time to hype yourself up in the mirror before covering up with a skirt and loose sweater.

Before you knew it, you were standing outside his door, waiting for Mat to let you in.

He greeted you with a warm smile, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a white shirt.

“Hey, come on in. You look great,” he said, opening the door wider.

“What’s that smell? Are you cooking something?” You asked, smelling an aroma coming from the kitchen.

“Yeah, well, trying to cook. The only thing I can handle is pasta, so I hope you like alfredo,” Mat chuckled, “I figured I should at least try to make tonight somewhat memorable.”

“You’re going to be the first man I sleep with, I think that already makes you pretty memorable,” you joked, running your hands along the kitchen countertop.

“Uh, dinner should be ready in, like, two minutes, so go ahead and take a seat,” Mat said, rushing back over to turn off the stove.

“Is it going to be edible?” You asked, pulling out a chair at the table.

“We’re about to find out. If you get food poisoning, I’m not liable,” he said, setting a plate in front of you.

“Is that how you win over women? Poisoning them on the first date?” You asked.

“Technically, this is the second date,” he pointed out, “And I usually don’t cook, so don’t get used to it.”

You picked up a forkful of pasta and brought it to your mouth.

“Well, as far as pasta goes, this isn’t the worst I’ve ever had,” you complimented after swallowing your first bite.

“Oh thank god,” he said in relief, “I’ll take that.”

You continued to eat in silence for a couple minutes, glad to finally get something in your stomach. You asked Mat about his latest road trip and the games, and he asked you about school and work. The conversation flowed so well between you two, there weren't any awkward pauses or topics you both didn’t have an opinion on. You found yourself laughing at his stories, like, head thrown back laughing and eyes crinkling laughter. You’d never felt more at ease than you did right now.

Mat’s eyes were bright, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun with someone. He felt his heart sink a little at that thought: he was thoroughly enjoying his time with you, and he wasn’t even trying to woo you. You looked so beautiful in front of him, eating his subpar pasta but acting like it was the best, and smiling so hard he could see the small tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. He probably looked just as ridiculous to you, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

Mat began wondering why he’d never talked to you earlier. Sure, you’d seen him at casual hangouts when Anders brought you around, but he’d never really given you the time of day. And for the life of him, he couldn’t recall why he hadn’t.

He didn’t notice you then, but he was noticing you now. And that spelled trouble for Mat in big, bolded capital letters.

You’d stayed at the table a whole thirty minutes after you’d finished dinner, going through another two glasses of wine before the conversation began to settle.

“Here, let me get that for you,” Mat said, quickly getting up to take your plate when you began to pile your silverware up.

“No, I got it. You can’t cook and clean, Mat,” you argued, shifting the plate out of his reach.

In his brief moment of confusion, you snatched the plate from his hand, shuffling over to the sink as quickly as possible.

“You’re not doing my dishes,” he chuckled, slapping your hands out of the way. Water splashed up everywhere, soapy bubbles coating the counter. Even a few flew up into your hair, and you flinched your eyes shut as the water hit your face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, fully laughing now, “Actually, I’m not sorry. I told you not to touch the dishes.”

“Sorry for trying to be a good guest,” you snorted, flicking your wet fingers at his face with a smirk.

Mat grasped the wrist in front of his face, tugging you closer. His other hand lifted to grip your waist and pressed your front to his body, and your laughter suddenly died down.

“How about we just leave them for now?” He asked.

“They’ll just be even harder to wash later then, idiot.”

“I’m sure I can persuade you.” You raised your brow at him.

Mat’s signature crooked smirk appeared on his face as he let the hand on your waist drift to squeeze your ass. You let out a squeak of surprise, not used to being with someone this forward. His eyes crinkled at your shocked expression, and he leaned down to press his lips to yours. Your arms slid up Mat’s toned arms, going to rest along his shoulders. Both of his hands were now placed on your ass, and you could feel him harden against your stomach.

You moaned into his mouth, and Mat slipped his tongue into your mouth. You weren’t sure if you would ever get tired of kissing him; he was a phenomenal kisser. You could see why they paid him the big bucks to play hockey if he was half as good at skating as he was kissing.

He broke the kiss shortly after you trailed one hand down the expanse of his chest.

“Wanna take this to the bedroom? I’ve been wanting to get you out of this skirt since you walked through the door,” Mat grunted against your lips, stopping your hand before it could reach his belt.

You nodded your head vigorously (and it probably looked a little psychotic), eyes wide with lust. He took your hand in his and led you down the hallway, the dirty dishes long forgotten. Mat closed his bedroom door behind you, pressing you against it and reconnecting your lips.

His hands came up to hold your waist under your sweater, pulling his face away to move down your neck. Your head fell back to knock against the door and your lips parted in a quiet moan as Mat sucked a mark on your throat.

You took the opportunity to take in his room, and your gaze fell to the candles that were lit on his dresser.

“Did you get candles for this?” You asked breathlessly, arching your body into his. Mat pulled away for a moment, following your gaze to the candle.

“Yeah…” he said sheepishly, “I didn’t really know what to get. I wanted it to be at least a little special.”

“That’s sweet,” you said, running your hands through his hair, “It’s a good thing I also got you something too, then.” You stepped away to give him, what you hoped was, a seductive look.

“I really hope this isn’t some kind of joke about your virginity because if it is, I won’t laugh,” Mat said.

“No, you ass,” you laughed, punching him lightly in the arm, “I was trying to insinuate I was wearing something underneath.”

“Oh? Does that mean I can take this off?” He asked, both brows raised in curiosity as he tugged at the hem of your sweater.

“If you don’t, I will,” you teased.

After your confirmation, Mat pulled your top off easily and casted it to the side as he took in your appearance. His hands came up to trace the lacy designs along the cup, gently squeezing your clothed breast.

“Holy shit,” he said in awe, “I don’t mean to sound like a perv, but your tits are amazing.”

“Thank you. I always thought they were my best quality,” you joked.

Mat could hear the playful lilt of your tone, but he was still disagreeing in his mind. Your tits were amazing, but they were not your best quality. Maybe second best, but the sound of your laugh erupted in his mind when he thought about what he liked most about you; first he thought about your laugh, then your eyes, and then his mind eventually snapped back to reality where your nearly perfect tits were in front of him.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to take off my skirt?” You asked him, pulling him from his trance. Mat nodded his head eagerly, like a dog being thrown a bone. He dropped his hands to your waist, wasting no time to rid you of the skirt and throwing it to join your top.

“Jesus,” he breathed out when he saw the strappy garters, “Get on the bed now.”

You threw him a saucy smirk, sauntering over to the bed before sitting on the edge.

“Do I get to touch you this time?” You asked when he came to stand in front of you.

Mat brought his hand up to grab your hair, pulling it slightly so your head was tilted up to look up at him. He gave you a searing look before saying “Go ahead.”

You used your hands to brush against his abdomen underneath his shirt, raising it as far as you could from your seated position. He took the hint, pulling back to shrug it off quickly. Your hands stayed on his chest, sliding down until you met the buckle of his belt. You quirked an eyebrow, “This too?”

Mat answered your question for you, using his own hands to move them aside while he unbuckled his pants and shimmied them off. Your eyes followed his hands, noticing the way his boxer briefs bulged. Widening your eyes, partly in shock and the other part in disbelief that you were in this situation, your mouth fell open slightly as you tried to think of something to say.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to say anything because Mat was already pulling your head back and leaning down to kiss you again. He pushed you back against the bed, his hands reaching down to grab your thighs. His knees hit the bed, and he lifted your body up slightly so he could shuffled you back further. Your hands went back tug at the hair on the back of his head, and Mat groaned loudly into your mouth. You jotted this note down mentally, planning to use this to your advantage in the future.

He slid his arm underneath your back and you arched up into him. You could feel the hard press of him against your thigh, and you lifted your leg to wrap around his waist. You tried your best to thrust your hips against him, searching for any kind of friction.

Mat’s hand quickly unclasped your bra, and you pulled your arms down so you could slip it off.

“Fuck, baby,” he cursed, glancing down to your exposed breasts.

His head ducked down to nip at your neck, lips sucking along your collarbone. Mat lifted his hand to squeeze your breast, using his fingers to twist your nipple. He moaned against your skin at the gasp that fell from your mouth. Lowering his head even further, he closed his lips over your other nipple, desperate to pull more sounds from you. He was rewarded when you let out a pitched whine as he lightly bit at your breast.

Feeling yourself grow wetter at his ministrations, you pulled him back up to your lips by his hair, already missing the way he kissed you. You snaked one hand between your bodies, palming him over his boxers. Mat let out a distressed groan, thrusting his hips into your hand. You squeeze his length over the fabric which caused Mat to pull back swiftly.

“I know I said you could touch,” he panted, “but I genuinely think I’ll explode if you do.”

You chuckled at his breathless state but removed your hand from him anyway. He shimmied further down your body instead, taking a moment to unsnap the garters from your tights. Sliding off your panties, he took the tights off with them before resuming his spot between your legs.

“Don’t tease, Mat,” you said with a gasp. As much as you wanted his tongue on you, you were nearing the verge already.

“Fine, but I’m going down on you later tonight then,” he said, looking at your pussy with a longing look. He brought his fingers to run between your folds, gathering at the wetness building up. You could feel how soaked you were, but the obscene sounds you heard as he slipped a finger inside of you only confirmed that. Entering a second one, he slowly thrust his fingers in and out, curling to hit your g-spot.

“I said no teasing,” you whined loudly, tugging harshly at his hair. Mat chuckled darkly, removing his fingers from you despite your protest. He leaned back, stepping off the bed quickly to take off his boxers.

Now, you hadn’t expected him to be small, but being faced with his dick in person, you began wondering if you should’ve started with someone more… average. Your jaw dropped slightly, and Mat laughed at your reaction. He was already climbing back over you, condom in hand, before you could say anything.

“You’re sure you still want this?” He double checked, ripping open the foil packet. You nodded to answer his question, mouth still agape as you watched him roll the condom onto his hard length.

“If you’re not in me within the next minute, I’m going to combust,” you said.

“You flatter me, Y/N,” he replied, hooking a leg over his waist, “Stop me if anything hurts, okay?”

Mat waited for your nod, looking into your eyes for any sense of hesitation, but you couldn’t be more sure about wanting this.

He lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing inside of you. You felt yourself stretch open as he pressed into you, the feeling unfamiliar and awkward but not at all unpleasant.

Mat paused his movements when he heard a particular strangled noise leave your throat.

“Everything good?” He asked, checking in on you.

“Yeah, all good. Just give me a second,” you whispered, giving yourself a few moments to adjust to the new sensation. Mat stayed still as he waited for your indication to continue, bending his head to pull you back into a heated kiss.

Relaxing under his touch, you moaned into his mouth, mumbling a quiet “keep going” against his lips. Mat resumed his movements, pushing further into you at an agonizingly slow pace until you felt him bottom out.

“Holy fuck, you’re so ti— nope not going to think about how tight you are,” he said, grunting lowly into your neck. It was taking everything in him to not pull out and just thrust back into you, but he remained as still as he could until you gave him permission.

“Please move, Mat,” you groaned out, finally feeling yourself stretch to accommodate him with more ease.

He pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in at a gentle maneuver, your head falling back in pleasure. Mat took your resounding moans as signs of encouragement, and he crashed his lips against yours in another kiss. He rocked in and out of you, slowly increasing his speed the louder your moans got.

You tangled a hand in his hair, needing something to grip to relieve the tension you felt building inside of you.

It didn’t take long for the discomfort to turn into backbending pleasure. Soon you were arching yourself as much as you could into him, trying to gather as much friction as possible. Your breasts rubbed against his chest, and he was clutching at your back to keep you close.

“I’m close,” you said into his ear, one arm extending over his shoulder to dig your fingernails into his back.

Mat’s hand slipped between you, reaching to press his thumb against your clit. He drew out tight circles against it, and you felt yourself teeter on the edge of orgasm.

“Come on, baby,” he said into your neck, and you squeezed around him in response. He pressed harder into your clit, biting at the skin of your neck before soothing it over with a kiss.

You clenched around him even tighter, and let your eyes flutter close as you came.

Mat’s hand gripped hard on your thigh, and you were sure you were going to feel the outlines of his fingertips pressed into your skin for weeks to come. His rhythm grew more erratic as his breathing stuttered, and soon you felt him still altogether as he released inside of you.

Your breathing slowed down a few seconds after Mat finished, his breaths quickly calming until they were in sync with yours. You whined slightly when he pulled out of you before flopping onto his back. You slowly came back to earth, the pulse between your legs diminishing with each passing minute. Mat leaned over the side to dispose of the condom and then turned onto his side to gaze at you.

You glanced over to see his cocky smile and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Women don’t usually laugh after having sex with me,” he said in mock offense, but the smile remained on his face.

“I’m laughing because I’m happy. I finally did it. I’m no longer a virgin,” you said happily, flipping over to rest your head on your hand, matching his pose.

“We better alert the media,” he joked.

“‘Breaking News: This just in, local college student finally pops her cherry,’” you exclaimed in your best reporter voice, and he laughed heartily.

He had such a contagious laugh. It was the most absurd, yet fun, laugh you’d ever heard. It was impossible to not laugh when he did, which is why you were both laughing hysterically now.

“But really, Mat, thank you,” you said seriously once the laughter began to die down. He nodded his head in agreement, his smile falling until you could only see the playfulness within his eyes.

“Round two in the shower?” You asked hopefully after a couple seconds.

“Already? We just finished,” he teased, bringing a hand to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Are you saying you’re tired already? What about that professional athlete stamina?” you wondered with a raised brow.

“You joke about it now, but you’ll be regretting that soon,” he said, lightly flicking your nose, “Get in the shower, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

You got up eagerly, scampering off to the bathroom in excitement for going another round. Mat glanced over his shoulder, watching you disappear into the bathroom.

It was when he heard the water turn on and the shower door close that he let his face fall completely.

Your second date was over.

Second lesson, he corrected himself. He was nothing but a fluffer for you, and that hurt him more than he cared to admit right now.

His chest tightened at the thought of your time together slowly coming to an end. He wanted to keep seeing you. You were lively, smart, funny, and hot. He had yet to meet a box you didn’t tick for him, and that scared him a lot.

Mat wasn’t the type to catch feelings this quickly, especially for someone he knew he couldn’t have; it’s not like you being his captain’s sister was completely lost on him. God knew he'd been on the receiving end of caught feelings plenty times, and he hated being the bad guy in those situations.

But despite that, he found himself enjoying your time together more than he probably should’ve.

Also, there was the fact that you were probably one of the sexiest women he’d ever slept with and looked like a goddess when you came.

Really, when it came down to it, Mat was left with no other option.

He had to stall your next “lesson” for as long as possible. As long as he needed to convince you he wanted more than just sex.

[raysofcrosby]

NOW THAT I FOUND YOU – M. BARZAL

requested: yes | no

warning(s): cursing, slight mentions of sex, but other than that, nothing.

word count: 5,868

authors note: welcome to my new series :) i have no idea how long this is going to last, but i’m pretty excited for it. so, first things first, considering what i have planned for the character of jeremy, i didn’t want to use a real rangers player. so jeremy is a fictional dude on the team. i think that’s it for now, i’m not really sure what else i can think of about this series. so, oh well, enjoy :)

my masterlist | stuff i have planned | who i’ll write for | requests

"I can't take it anymore!" Tito said, storming into the locker room and stomping his way over to his cubby. "I am literally going to take her to the Brooklyn bridge and throw her into the Hudson."

Mat looked up from his skates and over at his best friend as he plopped down into his cubby, huffing, and puffing as he got undressed. He looked over at Anders, who was looking at Brass...the three of them all sharing confused looks at their locker neighbor. "Uh, you okay over there Tito?" Anders asked, looking at Mat for at least the slightest hint as to what he could be rambling on about.

"No clue," Mat mouthed, shrugging his shoulders and looking back down as he continued to tie his skate.

"No, I'm not okay," Tito tossed his sweatshirt into his cubby and stepped out of his joggers. "Does anyone want a newly 22-year-old female college student? Because I have one and I'm not opposed to passing her off before I result to murder."

"I'm pretty sure that is illegal, buddy," Jordan said, walking by and patting him on the shoulder. "Both are, actually. Like, highly illegal."

"Oh, God Tito," Matt said, coming out from the bathrooms. "What are you bitching about now?"

"She ironed my underwear." Tito tugged on his pants over his compression shorts and sighed, shaking his head.

"What?" Mat laughed, reaching behind him and grabbing his compression shirt.

"Y/N...she ironed my underwear," he stood up and turned towards his cubby, pulling a pair of ironed boxers out of the duffle he had carried in with him and turned back towards the guys. "I went to grab a pair this morning and I was greeted with this! They're stiff, feel powdery and quite frankly smell like shit–"

"Are you sure that's the soap and not just your horrible hygiene?" Matt joked, tossing a water bottle at him.

"Manchuk...Matty," Tito smiled, turning in their direction. "How do you two feel about having a live-in nanny? Her cooking skills are subpar unless even worse if the recipe comes off of Pinterest. She consumes more wine than water– but she's great with kids."

"I'm just finding it hard to believe your only problem with Y/N is the fact she ironed your underwear," Jordan said, shaking his head. "What's the catch?"

"Yeah, there's got to be something else that has you considering pre-meditated murder," Matt chimed in with a loud laugh.

"I NEED TO GET LAID, all right?!" Tito yelled, tossing his ironed pair of boxers back into the duffle bag. "I need to have hot, drunken sex with a stranger who lets herself out in the morning! I need to get laid so fucking bad, but I can't do it with my sister in the room across from mine! It's gross."

The locker room was silent as his teammates just stared at him. Mat wanted to laugh at his best friend but didn't want to do it at his expense. Sure, he'd been there a time or two, what young guy in his 20's hasn't. But never had he yelled about it to his teammates in such an exaggerated fashion. "Have you thought about telling her that?" Mat asked, grabbing his practice jersey and sliding it on over his head. "Y/N's pretty reasonable, I'm sure she'd agree to go to a friends or something for the night."

"Oh yeah, let me just go ahead and tell my little sister, 'hey, do you mind getting out of the apartment for the night? I need to get my dick sucked. Thanks, don't tell mom!'" Tito sat down to put on his skates, giving Mat a sarcastic look. "Does that sound good to you, Barzy?"

"I don't know about Barzy, but that sounds great to me," Matt laughed as he tied his pants. "Why is she staying at your place? I thought she was in Uni? Doesn't she have a dorm?"

"Nope, she followed her doucheface of a boyfriend down here and he convinced her to stay in his apartment instead of getting a dorm." He stood up and reached into his locker, grabbing his practice jersey. "Next thing I know, she shows up at my door crying, saying they broke up and she's been at my place ever since."

Mat remembered that night. He and Tito were pre-gaming, finishing off their drinks, and waiting for the uber to arrive. They were coming off of a high, absolutely destroying the Maple Leafs 5-0 and that high followed them home. Everyone on the team was going out– it was a well called for a celebration, even the guys with families at home. Normally, the team would pregame together before taking ubers over to whatever club or bar they decided to take over for the night. But those who did have kids at home wanted to stop at home and say goodnight to their wives and kids before heading out.

They were talking about whether or not they wanted to wait up here for the uber or wait down on the street when a knock barely made noise about Tito's playlist. Mat thought he had heard something but wasn't sure if he had confused it with the bass or not. So, he brushed it off. It wasn't until a small break in the song when the two of them could hear three rapid knocks, followed by the sound of your voice coming from the other side of the door, did they know that you were there.

Mat was closest to the door, so he was the one who walked over and looked through the peephole. He knew it was you just based on the sound of your voice from when you knocked, but, it didn't hurt to be safe and check to see who was at the door– that way Tito couldn't blame him if he let a random into his apartment. He recognized the hoodie you were wearing, it was the Beauvillier Islanders hoodie that Tito had gotten you for your birthday just this past summer. Mat told him it was a stupid gift, but Tito laughed, saying that it was his way of tricking you into finally wearing something in support of him since you had stopped wearing Islanders gear the moment you started dating Jeremy last fall. A Rangers player you had met on a girls' night out in the city. "A mix of interests" as your excuse, and Tito was bothered that his sister wouldn't wear his team's logo anymore– but instead, the logo on their top rival.

It was a mess, but one that Mat never, ever wanted to get involved with.

But there you were, dripping wet from the thunderstorm that had been hovering over the city from the moment he walked into Barclay to play. You had the hood on your head and you were avoiding eye-contact with the door– but he knew it was you. So, he opened the door with no hesitations, barely getting out a simple hi before you brushed by him and darted down the hallway, a door slamming behind you.

Tito, in true fashion, paused his music and stomped after you, mumbling about how you were just going to stroll into his apartment, that he pays for, and slam his doors without even saying hello. Mat remembered laughing, just because the Beauvillier sibling dynamic was an interesting one. He came back a few moments later, shoving his phone into his pocket and walked over to Mat. He said that he couldn't get much out of you but the fact that you and Jeremy had broken up and he needed to pay the cab driver downstairs $40 for driving you from Manhattan.

Tito was a good brother. He could be a huge pain in the ass, sure. You and he had had more than your fair shares of endless, rigorous chirping fights that most of the time, left Mat standing there just looking between the two of you like he was watching a match. But still to this day, Mat could never understand why Tito didn't seem all that bothered about how abruptly you had walked into his apartment. Tito had you and Francis, and more often than not, always brushed you off as one of the guys thanks to your tomboy upbringing. Mat had a sister and she's dated one too many assholes for his liking, so he could spot it from a mile away.

Your face was swollen and red and he was more than positive that you had cried the entire car ride there.

And you've been living at Tito's ever since.

"I'm serious, I need her to leave," Tito was following behind him as they left the locker room to head out to the rink. "And I can't just kick her out."

"You literally just talked about shoving her into the Hudson," Jordan laughed, shaking his head. "I think you can do something as simple as, 'hey, maybe you should find someone to stay with for a while.'"

Tito just rolled his eyes as he stepped out onto the ice, skating beside Matt. "I'm serious Barzy, I think she's driving me insane."

"It was one incident, Tito," Mat said, shaking his head. "Y/N isn't that bad."

"It wasn't just one incident," they cut the corner, Mat pushing himself ahead. "She almost burnt down my kitchen trying to make breakup cupcakes. She's redecorated my bathroom with bath bombs and make-up, she even got rid of my Shrek shower curtain!"

"To be fair, that's your guest bathroom and that Shrek shower curtain was hideous"

"Regardless! She's slowly taking over my entire apartment and turning it into her...her...her stupid lovesick breakup reno project!" He tossed his arms up in the air, letting them fall back down and almost hitting Brass in the head. "Oops, sorry bud!"

Mat laughed as they cut another corner, shaking his head. "Have you ever tried talking to her?"

"No, because then she'd get her puppy eyes all going and I'd feel like even more of a douche for wanting her out." He huffed, shaking his head. "I need an excuse, something to just...get her out for a few weeks until I can find her someplace to stay for the rest of the year. Then plead with her housing office to find her a dorm."

"I don't know what to tell you, man." Mat said, skating ahead.

"I'll come up with something, I'm sure I can cash in a favor somewhere." Tito sighed, as the two of them joined the rest of their team at center ice for stretching.

Mat just laughed, shaking his head at his best friend. Sure, if he was in the same position, it wouldn't exactly be his ideal living situation to have his sister living across the hall– but he definitely wouldn't be as against it. At least, he didn't think so.

~

"I've figured it out."

Mat felt his foot slip against the wet tile and his heart practically jumped out of his chest as the slipping feeling. He held his right arm out, holding himself steady against the tile before ducking his head beneath the shower head, letting the conditioner rinse from his hair. He looked over his shoulder to see Tito standing at the opening of the shower area, freshly showered with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Yeah, can we not talk about this right now?"

"I'm just letting you know, I figured it out." Tito smiled, nodding before walking away from the shower.

Mat shook his head, spitting out some water before turning off the water and grabbing the towel he had hung up just to the right. He wrapped it around his waist, shaking his head as he ran his fingers through his hair to get all of the excess water out. He almost dreaded making his way back towards the locker room. Tito had been pestering him all practice, trying to make him come up with ways he could kick you out.

Fake an insect infestation? No, then he'd have to leave his apartment too.

Figure out a way to get some flooding in her room? But then he'd have to hire someone to clean up all of the water.

Every outrageous idea possible had crossed his mind and Mat had to listen to it for the entire practice. As if the practice itself hadn't been draining on him, listening to him go on and on was even more.  But, he was playing the best friend role, and did say he would help him on one condition– it didn't involve hurting your feelings.

"Great, you're here, now listen–"

"No to the insects. No to an animal break-in and we already decided that pouring water on her stuff and saying a pipe was leaking wouldn't work," Mat said, sitting down in his locker and looking at Tito. "What in the hell could you have come up with now?"

"Remember how I said I could cash in a favor?"

Mat nodded, standing up and grabbing his street clothes as he turned his back to Tito. "Yeah, did you figure it out?"

"I sure did."

Mat stepped into his boxer briefs and dropped the towel as he picked up his joggers. "All right? And who's the poor sucker?" Tito hadn't replied as fast as he had been and Mat would be lying if he said it wasn't a little concerning. He tugged the waistband of his joggers up before turning to see Tito smiling at him. "What are you looking at?"

"I'm looking at the poor sucker who owes me a favor." He had his classic shit-eating smirk on his face, the kind cameras always zoomed in the moment he checked someone hard.

Mat blinked once, twice, three times before the reality set in. His brain was racing through every recent time he spent with Tito, never once remembering an event where he said that he owed him a favor. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You owe me a–"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you said," Mat put his arms through his sweatshirt, tugging his down and over his head before running his fingers through his hair again. "But I don't know what you're talking about. When did I ever owe you a favor?"

"When I saved your ass that night at Nest when you were picking up the redhead but that hot tinder girl with blue hair you invited showed up." Tito stood up and walked over to Mat, still smiling. "I performed the perfect, switcharoo maneuver so that the redhead never noticed you took tinder girl home."

"You took the redhead home! How is that helping me?" Mat turned towards his locker and grabbed his phone and Gatorade, shaking his head. "Besides, that was two years ago."

"It was a win for both of us! You didn't get totally bitchslapped in the club and I got laid," Tito followed behind him, staying on his heels. "It may have been two years ago, but you still said, 'Tito, man...I owe you one.'"

"I don't–"

Tito cut him off, standing in front of him as they stood in the hall. He crossed his arms, his smile falling from his face. "And now I'm cashing it in. You're helping me get Y/N out of my apartment."

Mat rolled his eyes, resting his hands on his hips. "And how exactly am I supposed to help you with that? You've literally exhausted every plausible option." When Tito didn't come up with a reply, Mat just shook his head and brushed by him.

"I've got an idea bro, I swear," He jogged up behind him as they walked out of the arena to head towards the parking lot. "But, you're probably not going to like it."

As the crisp fall air greeted them, Mat could hear the voice in the back of his head telling him not to entertain Tito. A gut feeling deep inside that this wasn't going to work out– none of Tito's ideas ever worked out. "What is it?"

Tito hesitated, unsure just how his best friend would reply. Sure, he's had plenty of other crazy ideas before– but this one might just be way out there. But he didn't care, he was a young, physical and thriving man in his early 20's– and at this point, he didn't care about logical reasoning. He just desperately needed to get laid. And if that meant brushing his sister off onto his best friend, he'd do it.

"You're going to pretend you're utterly heartbroken from some break up and can't be alone–"

Mat stopped in his tracks, whipping around to Tito with wide eyes. "Dude what the–"

"Y/N is a total empath and when I tell her all about your emotional turmoil and that I don't know how to help, she'll no doubt step in. Then I'll just figure something out to keep her out of my apartment and boom, problem solved."

"Problem not solved!" Mat yelled, waving his hand at Tito. "Your problem literally has about a million plot holes in it!"

Tito closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sighing before opening them and looking at Mat. "I'm going to need you to hear me out before you say no– which, may I remind you, isn't an option anyway."

Mat took a deep breath and sighed, knowing damn well that somewhere down the line, he'd regret this very moment he even gave Tito the chance to explain. Even his initial explanation seemed so fucking stupid that there was no way it could ever work out. But maybe, if he allowed him to explain, he'd realize just how unrealistic his plan was, and just drop the entire idea then man up and tell Y/N to stay with a friend. "Fine," he stopped at his car, unlocking it so Tito could get into the passenger seat. "But you're buying lunch."

~

This was such a bad idea– he knew it would be. From the moment the suggestion left Tito's mouth the first time, Mat knew it wouldn't work. There's no way it could. Hell, even Liana said it was when he called her for advice after his lunch. And as far as common sense goes, he likes to think that Liana has a lot more

Tito's plan stayed the same– Mat was supposed to play brokenhearted and after lunch, the two of them would go over to his apartment, where you would be home from class. Tito would comment on how Mat 'hasn't been the same' and make a joke about how the two of you should just live together in your misery. You, the empath that you were, would take an interest in Mat's "broken heart" and offer to help in any way. Tito, knowing Mat was actually in the middle of turning the third guest bedroom in his apartment into a man-cave/gaming room and how much you love decorating, I.E. his bathroom, would suggest that maybe you could help him with that too.

It wouldn't work, Mat was convinced of that from the moment the entire idea left Tito's mouth. He'd known you almost as long as he knew Tito, meeting you the summer after the 2015 IIHF World U18 Championship. You were only a year younger than them both and for the three weeks that Mat had stayed with your family, he felt like he got to know you pretty well. You guys weren't best friends by any means, but you were definitely good friends. Your friendship growing when you decided to transfer to Fordham and when you weren't hanging out with Jeremy or your classmates, you were with Tito, Mat, and their teammates.

Needless to say, he was confident walking into the apartment knowing that there was no way that you would fall for this horrible excuse. You wouldn't leave your room in Tito's apartment to come and stay with Mat because he was "too brokenhearted to function." But leave it to Tito to think that you would fall for it. He tried not to break character, he really did. But how the hell was he supposed to pretend to be brokenhearted from a failed relationship, when he's never felt that?

He's had relationships before, sure. Break-ups? Absolutely. But none so bad that he felt like he wanted to drink himself into a slumber or just hide under the covers for the rest of time. He had outlets to get out any negative emotion. He had hockey and he had the boxing classes he attended with Tito every now and again. Besides that, he never had strong feelings for someone to the point where he was feeling what you were feeling.

As predicted, you had agreed to go with Tito and Mat over to Mat's apartment to see just what he had to deal with. He felt a twinge of guilt when you started to ask the simple questions:

How are you feeling?

Do you want to talk about it?

What happened?

He and Tito hadn't gotten that far in the plan– creating a backstory, which should have been another sign that this was never going to end well. So, on the ride to his apartment, he just stuck with short answered replies– "fine" "not yet" "it's still too soon." And he wanted nothing more than to smack Tito in the passenger seat, who was trying his damndest not to laugh.

When they got to the apartment hours later, Mat led you to the third guest room, showing you just everything he had. In a corner on tarps, he had three cans of paint, all unopened and a bunch of painting supplies. In the middle of the room, boxed furniture he'd been too lazy to move. He was barely focused on what you were saying when he felt his phone vibrate and saw Tito nodding at him.

Tito: see? i told u. total diy/renovator. you could get free labor out of this.

Mat: one problem there, bud. she doesn't seem too keen to get out of your apartment. all she's done is offer to take me to lunch for the next week to 'talk about my feelings'

Tito: okay? go talk about your feelings.

Mat: I DON'T HAVE ANY FEELINGS

Mat: I DON'T HAVE A RECENT EX-GIRLFRIEND

"Are you two okay?" You asked, almost scaring the two boys. Mat shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket, staring at you with wide eyes. You had an eyebrow raised and looked awfully suspicious of them both.

"Do you guys want dinner?" Tito asked, already heading towards the door. "I can order some pizzas from down the street."

"That's okay," You said, following him towards the door. "I've got this new enchilada recipe I wanted to try and–"

"No!" Tito couldn't be any less obvious that he didn't want you to follow him, his raised voice causing you to step back and look at him in shock. "I uh, I mean...I already ordered them. Barzy and I talked about it...right?"

Mat glared at Tito, wishing deep down that this plan would fail, but knowing that he couldn't leave his best friend out to dry. "Yeah...we did." He turned to you, crossing his arms. "Hope that's okay."

"No, it's fine," you replied, nodding. "Pizza is good."

Tito clapped his hands together and smiled. "Great, I'll be right back!"

He couldn't have run out of the apartment any faster, leaving you and Mat there standing in the middle of the room. This wasn't part of the plan and Mat was pissed. He stared at the door, contemplating telling you about your brother's ulterior motive to all of this– but it wouldn't hurt Tito...it would hurt you. So he decided against it and turned to you, sighing. "We can go wait in the living room for him to come back."

You nodded and followed him out of the guest room, walking down the hallway. "Can I have something to drink?"

"Water? Wine?" He asked, waving you over to the couch as he stopped in the kitchen. "Tequila?" God, how he wanted a drink. At least it might alleviate the headache Tito's antics were causing.

"It's Monday," you laughed, leaning against the back of the couch. "I guess I could go for some wine."

"White or Red?"

"You have both?"

He laughed, turning around and placing two unopened bottles– one of each. "My mom likes red, I like white. It's her leftover bottle from when she was here a two weeks ago."

"I'll take a glass of white, thank you."

He nodded, putting the bottle of red back into the fridge before moving towards his cabinets and opening the drinking glasses– reaching up to the top and grabbing two wine glasses. When he turned back around, he looked over at you, ready to say something, but he stopped.

You were still leaning against the back of his couch, left arm draped across your stomach as the other held onto your phone. You were chewing on the inside of your cheek, your eyes glued to the screen. He normally wouldn't think anything of it, except for the look on your face. Even from where he was standing, he could notice the frown and the way that your eyebrows were burrowed towards each other. He noticed your fingers on your left hand were fidgeting, plucking at your Fordham long sleeve. Everything about you standing there was just...small, quiet– radiating energy that said, 'I don't want anyone to see me.' Which, in all of the years that he knew you, was the complete opposite of who you were.

He couldn't help but wonder what the hell Jeremy did to screw you up this bad.

He poured your glasses, putting the cork back into the bottle, and made his way to you. You were so lost in your phone, that it wasn't until he cleared his throat, that you realized he was standing there.

"Oh," you stood up a little straighter, putting your phone into your front pocket before taking the wine glass from him. "Sorry, I was just..."

"No need," he said, waving you off. "I don't need an explanation." He walked around the couch and sat down, nodding at you to join him.

You sighed, taking a sip of your wine before sitting down beside him, sinking back against the cushion. "So, Tito hasn't tried taking you to a strip club to help you out of your breakup funk?"

Mat laughed, his head leaning back against the cushion. "No, he hasn't," he took a sip of the wine, tilting his head to the side. "I don't think he'd leave if he did."

"He tried to offer to drop me off at that knockoff Magic Mike, two days ago." He looked at you like you had two heads, his mind spinning in circles at just how long Tito has been trying to get you out of his apartment. "It didn't work, it's not my scene."

"Male strippers?"

"Male strippers that aren't the cast of Magic Mike," you joked, laughing softly as you stared down into your wine. "I don't know, I just haven't really been in the mood to do anything besides go to class and sleep."

He wasn't sure how to reply. Even with Liana, he'd never really been that open with talking to her about his relationships or hers. That was a no-touch topic in their siblingship– only ever talking about it, just to say that they were seeing someone new. Never what happened during or after. Not to mention, he was supposed to be like you, heartbroken. He tried to copy your mannerisms– slumped into the couch, relaxed face– he even went as far as to try and tell himself to copy the tone in your voice.

But all he felt was guilt for playing into Tito's scheme and a genuine need to talk to you about what happened. He just didn't know how to go about it.

Your phone rang before he could ask you the dreaded 'how are you feeling' question, and you sighed, digging your phone out of your pocket and putting your wine glass down on the table. "What, Anthony?"

Mat held back his laughter as he took a sip of his wine. One thing was for sure, your attitude towards your brother hadn't changed from pre-breakup. He looked at you, your eyebrows knitted together as you brought your hand up to your forehead, rubbing it. "What do you mean? Is my stuff–" you sighed, closing your eyes. "No, you won't get electrocuted if you–"

He reached out, bumping his elbow against yours and raising an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

You looked at him, shaking your head as you pulled your phone away from your ear. "He forgot his wallet at home and went back to the apartment– I guess something leaked and my bathroom and room are flooded."

Mat had to act like he was surprised, but if anything he was pissed. This was the one scenario that they didn't agree on– simply because it wasn't fucking plausible. "Well have you talked to him? Maybe there's–"

Your head fell back against the cushion and you closed your eyes, sighing. "I didn't leave a faucet on, I didn't even go into my bathroom before we– can you stop interrupting me?"

He could hear Tito rambling on through the other side of the phone, no doubt barely giving you time to talk because he didn't want you to fill in the gaps of his fake story. "Well, where am I supposed to go?"

Mat chewed on his bottom lip, bringing the glass up to his lips as he knew this was when Tito was suggesting that you stay with him. He couldn't look at you because the guilt was taking over. He could tell you were stressed and obviously, Tito hadn't been exaggerating at just how bad you were after the breakup with Jeremy. And if he looked at you any longer, the guilt would swallow him up and he'd cave in and tell you everything.

"No, I'm not asking–" you sighed, taking a few deep breaths and exhaling before speaking again. "Because Anthony, it's rude! "

Mat felt like reaching over and grabbing your phone, ending the plan then and there. But again, he knew that the Beauvillier sibling dynamic was a lot different than any other one. Tito knew when to stop pushing, you were his sister after all. So, he sat next to you, sipping on his wine and waited for you to ask the question they'd been pushing you to do all along.

"Can you just...ask, please?" His eyes went wide the moment he heard the emotion in your whispered reply. "I can't just...move everything, I don't even have everything. It's all at Jer–" you stopped yourself, sitting up and hunching over, resting your head in your free hand. "And he said that's all that was available?"

He kept sneaking looks at you from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge whether or not the emotion in your voice was leading to tears. He brought his phone out of his jacket, opening to type a message to Tito.

"Fine, I'll...I'll just ask," he froze as you turned to him, holding your phone away from your ear. "Hey Mat?"

He placed his phone face down and away from your sight of vision you couldn't see that he was about to send a text to Tito. "Yeah?" Yikes, that wasn't casual enough. "What's up?" Better.

You were holding back tears and for the first time, he could see the dark circles beneath your eyes, still peaking out from whatever make-up you had put on that morning. Yeah, this plan wasn't good– this on was definitely a punch in the gut. "Do you think I could stay here? I don't have much and I–"

"Yeah, no," he cleared his throat. "No, I mean yeah...you can. I've got the guest bedroom."

You nodded, looking away from him and brought the phone back up to your ear. "There, happy?"

Oh, you have no idea how happy Tito was, was all that Mat could think as he brought his phone back out. "Can I at least come and get some stuff to– Yeah...okay. Yeah, see you."

You hung up the phone and your head fell back against the cushion, eyes closed. Mat looked at you, wondering whether or not he should dare to see if you were okay. He started to reach a hand out to nudge your arm when his phone vibrated.

Tito: IT WORKED! I'M FREE!

Tito: well...at least for the next week i am. i’ll need to figure out another excuse for the extra week i guess.

Mat: dude...i don't think this is a good idea. y/n's like...really emotional right now.

Tito: AND I'M GOING ON A TWO WEEK DRYSPELL.

Mat: okay, get laid tonight and let her come back.

Tito: nope. i'm using all seven days of this time and look on the bright side, now you'll get the guestroom done faster than you planned.

Mat: are you at least coming back with the pizza?

Tito: no, just her clothes. caroline is coming over in an hour.

He laughed in disbelief, shaking his head as he looked at you– still lying in the same position from when you hung up the phone.

Mat: dude, you so owe me one.

Tito: 👍🏻

Mat put his phone back into his jacket pocket and turned to you. He was sure that the movement on the couch would have been enough to get you to open your eyes– but you didn't budge. He reached out and nudged your arm and you opened your eyes and turned to look at him. "What do you think about Chinese?"

"Let me guess, he's not getting the pizza?" You asked, drained of any energy.

Mat bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. "No, he said they were packed," the lie was a lot better than telling her the truth. "If you're not feeling Chinese, we can go to Chipotle?"

"I don't know," you sighed, picking up the wine glass and taking a long sip. "Do you think we'd miss him?"

Not in a million years. Even if they did, he'd just drop the bag of belongings in front of Mat's door, no doubt.

"I'll buy you a large guac and a large queso," He smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Free of charge."

"You had me at large guac." You looked at him and then back at your wine glass, downing the rest before placing it back onto the table and turning towards Mat. "Besides, he's the one who didn't bother to offer me the couch in the new 1 bedroom he'd be staying in until everything is fixed. He can wait a few extra minutes if we're not back in time."

Mat just nodded, standing up with you and playing into your mood. "Yeah, fuck that guy."

You laughed, and for the first time since he walked into yours and Tito’s apartment...he saw you smile. He felt proud of himself for being able to cheer you up in some way. And maybe, he thought, if Tito wasn't going to look out for you...he could.

It was only for seven days, how bad could it be?

[connorandersons-blog]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Connor Additional Tags: Pride, Pride Parades, Nonbinary Character, Bisexual Character, Gay Male Character, Hank is an ally, Good Parent Hank Anderson, First Kiss, Coming Out, Gay Disaster Gavin Reed, Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole, Connor Deserves Happiness, Deviant Connor, Post-Pacifist Best Ending ,Gay Disaster Connor

Summary:

Connor comes out to Hank who takes it very well and decides to take his android son to his first ever pride parade. Connor wasn't expecting to see a certain coworker there and what happened after he did.

-----------------------------------

He knew it was silly to be so nervous, acceptance of the queer community had gone up quite a bit, but there was still so many people who hated them. Who’d hate Connor, but he had to believe Hank wouldn’t be one of them. The man was one of his closest friends, he saw him as a father figure, but Hank could be a little old fashioned on some things. He had really hoped this wouldn’t be one of them. 

He had made Hank dinner that night, not fancy at all, just food he knew Hank would love. He sat at the table watching him eat, trying not to tap on it when Hank told him to just spit it out. 

“I’m bisexual,” he blurted, ducking his head. It wasn’t the only thing, but this was more accepted than the other thing he needed to say. 

Hank took a second, putting his food down which said a lot. “Thanks for telling me, kid. I know I can be… fucking stubborn but I fully accept you, no matter who you love.” 

Connor smiled and opened his mouth to speak before closing it again. He tried again and again until finally the words came out. “I’m also non-binary.” 

“Alright, that’s cool too, you wanna go by a new name? Oh and pronouns, what do you want?” Hank picked up his fork and took another bite, watching Connor carefully. 

“I like everything as it is now! I like my current pronouns and name. I just… I know I’m not a guy? But I’m ok with being called one. I kind of want to try feminine clothing but I also like my current clothes.” It had been so confusing, still was honestly but he felt comfortable with saying he was non-binary 

Hank nodded, smiling slightly and reaching out to pat his arm. “That’s alright kid, you do what makes you happy. Fuck knows the world needs some happy in it.” 

And that was that. Hank took him to the mall the next time they had off from work and let Connor pick out a few new clothes. It wasn’t much given their salaries but he still got two dresses, two skirts, a shirt, and a pair of heels. 

He was too terrified to wear any of it to work even though Hank promised no one there would be a dick about it. He didn’t say it outright but Connor could tell he was implying that Connor wasn’t alone in being queer. Connor did wonder who there was but apparently his ‘gaydar’ was subpar and he couldn’t tell with anyone. 

That was until Hank took him to his first ever pride parade. 

It shocked absolutely no one when the queer community welcomed androids with open arms, and the parade was filled with a wide range of people and android. Connor stared wide eyed at how big it all was, all the colors, all the scents from the food stalls, so many people. They were all dressed differently, some finally able to dress how they want and Connor is no different. 

He had decided on one of his skirts, a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows to keep cool. He had decided to not wear the heels given there would be so many people and he didn’t want to stumble or step on anyone. 

Hank and him found a good spot to watch the parade and Connor felt so light and jittery. There was this energy in the air of complete acceptance and joy that Connor couldn’t stop smiling. Even Hank had grinned a bit seeing Connor so happy, pointing out different areas of the parade. There was the vendor area, the food area, and the main parade route. It was all in or right near Hart Plaza so there was plenty of room to just stand and talk with friends too away from the parade. 

Connor got quite a few compliments from those around him, and each time made him blush and duck his head. He almost didn’t see him going by because of it, but he glanced up and there he was. 

He didn’t know what organization he was walking with, but Gavin Reed was strutting down the road like he owned it. He had a rainbow flag on like a cape but that certainly wasn’t what caught his attention. No, that was the chest harness, pants so low and open that it showed off the trail of hair down towards his crotch and if the pants were any lower everyone would be able to see his dick. He also wore very tall boots that had at least nine inch heels. The collar he had on was leather and had a chain attached to it that he held, but he let some take in and drag him along with a laugh. 

He had rainbow eyeshadow, silver eyeliner, and fake lashes on. Not to mention the amount of glitter that had already gotten all over him. He looked damn good and Connor’s jaw was on the ground. 

He was so used to seeing Gavin hidden behind slightly baggy clothes, his leather jacket too, hiding how wide his shoulders really were. At work he kept himself hunched a bit but now he had his back straight and looked so confident. 

Gavin didn’t see him or Hank, and Connor was far too distracted by the sight of him to see Hank’s raised eyebrow at Connor with a small smirk on his face. 

The person beside him noticed Connor’s expression, snorted and bumped his shoulder. “Good choice, he’s always a favorite, comes every year.” 

Comes every year? To… pride. That meant Gavin was queer in some way? Or maybe he was just a very enthusiastic ally. “I, yeah, wow.” Was all he managed to get out before shaking himself. He tried to focus on the rest of the parade but soon Hank was dragging him towards the food stalls. 

Hank almost spit his new food out when someone came up to him and asked if he was single. Though, they also called him ‘daddy’ and Connor decided he’d rather never think of that ever again. Hank did knock over his drink, just a little close to the person which Connor saw as purposeful. 

“I’ll go get you a new one, Hank.” Connor said, patting his shoulder. 

“Yeah kid, I’ll go look at the vendors a bit while you do that. I thought I saw someone I knew.” Hank waved him off and Connor only tilted his head when he recognized the lie. It was fine, if Hank didn’t want to say why he was actually going over there. 

Connor jogged back to the stall they had gotten Hank’s lunch, waiting in line patiently for it. He laughed off the situation, but the person gave him a free replacement. 

Connor glanced around the crowd and suddenly it felt like too much. The heat was beating down on him, he was too aware of his clothes and the people accidentally brushing against him as they walked past. 

He moved quickly away, finding a nice big tree to lean against. Hank wouldn’t be upset if he took a few extra minutes, he’d probably think someone stopped Connor to talk once again. 

He wasn’t too far away, he could hear everything very clearly still, but the tree’s shade helped cool him down and he felt himself calming. That was until he heard someone walking up to him. He opened his eyes and looked at the man, he had a chest harness on like Gavin had but it didn’t look nearly as good on him. Not that appearance made much of a difference, it was still nice to see beautiful people. 

“Hey pretty boy… or girl, or whatever you are.” The man grinned, winking at Connor. It reminded him of Gavin trying to wink and it brought a grin to his face without thinking the man would think it was for him. “What are you doing all alone?” 

“I just got a bit overwhelmed,” he wasn’t sure what else to say. The man kept looking at his LED and licking his lips. Connor had a bad feeling but had no real evidence to back it up. Hank had taught him he didn’t always need evidence to be right. 

The man nods, stepping a little closer. “Aw, well I can keep you company. You know… you’re one of the few ‘droids that I’ve seen that’s kept their LED in. I like it, shows the real you.” 

From anyone else Connor may have taken it at face value but every scan showed the man was aroused and Connor felt even more uncomfortable. “I’d rather be alone. I'm… waiting for my boyfriend. Thank you, though.” 

“Come on baby boy, don’t be like that. I like your kind, don’t worry. I’m sure your boyfriend is willing to share.” He stepped forward again and Connor held his hand up to stop him. 

“I said no. Please leave me alone.” The panic was coming back, and he didn’t want to get violent. 

“I don’t see him around here either. Just a little fun, no one has to know.” The man was sneering now, and Connor got ready to run or defend himself. 

“He’s right here, jackass!” A voice said, and then an arm was going around Connor’s waist. Connor froze, glancing over to see Gavin Reed of all people glaring at the man. “Now get lost.”

Connor went along with it, leaning into Gavin, the heels making him taller than Connor, and even placing a hand over his chest like he was scared and needing comfort. He wouldn’t say anything, he didn't want the man to get aggressive. 

He glanced at Gavin, before scoffing. “I could give you so much more, but if you say so. Just come find me if you get tired of him.” 

Connor wouldn’t, they weren’t actually together, but he’d never go to someone like that. Gavin gently rubbed a hand up and down Connor’s side as they watched the man walk away. 

“Ok, can you take your hand off my chest now?” Gavin asked, letting go of Connor. 

He jumped back, face turning bright blue. “I’m sorry! And thank you, that could have gone a lot worse.” He smoothed down his shirt and skirt, running a hand through his curly hair. 

“Yeah, no problem dipshit. So you actually have a boyfriend or just wanted that creep gone?” Gavin leaned against the tree, showing off his very nice abs, and Connor tried not to follow the trail of hair down. 

“I don’t, Hank brought me here after I… came out.” It felt so odd to say, but Gavin was here too. “I went to get him a soda but it all got too much.” He picked up the drink, glad it hadn’t gotten knocked over with everything that had happened. 

Gavin nodded, rubbing his hands together almost anxiously. “Congrats then, takes a lot of guts to come out.” 

Beaming at him, Connor ducked his head quickly. “I was very nervous but Hank has been incredibly kind and supportive. Can I ask, well, are you here as an ally or…” he trailed off. 

Gavin actually laughed at that before motioning to himself. “Do I really look straight? Nah, I’m hella gay.” 

Of course, Connor couldn’t help but follow where his hands motioned, trying to not let on just how affected he was by Gavin’s appearance. “I’m bi, and non-binary,” he blurted, and even though he was still nervous to say it, it felt good too. He motioned down to his skirt, copying Gavin slightly. 

Gavin glanced at the skirt, smiling slightly. “That looks good on you, and thanks for telling me. Are you going by a new name or pronouns? I won’t use them at work obviously, unless you say so… not that we see each other outside of work.” 

“No, I like my name and I’m still using he pronouns. Thank you for asking.” He wished he could say they should spend time outside of work, but he could barely consider them friends. Gavin hadn’t been outright rude to him, their bickering was more good natured and teasing than anything else. 

“Cool cool, well you wanna go find Hank? Don’t want him thinking you got kidnapped or trampled in the ground.” Gavin pushed away from the tree, nodding back to the stalls. Connor followed after, watching how well Gavin walked in the heels even in the uneven grass. 

“This your first pride parade?” Gavin asked as they made their way back into the crowd. Connor reached out and very carefully put a hand on Gavin’s arm so they wouldn’t get separated. 

“It is, I love all the colors and happiness, you can just… feel it everywhere. It’s a lot of fun… I saw you in the parade and was a bit shocked, you know. Someone said you come every year?” If so then maybe they could make this a thing. They could come together, spend some time outside of work. 

Gavin grinned, waving at someone before nodding towards Connor. “I do, Tina comes with me normally but she had work. I came with Cecil Sunshine… or well that’s his drag name. He’s somewhere around here.” 

Oh. Well Tina wasn’t too much a surprise given the two were best friends but he’d never heard of the drag queen. Were they together? “I see, that sounds fun. I love your makeup, I’d love to learn to do that.” 

Gavin perked up even more, turning around to grab Connor’s hand. “I can teach you! If you want, of course, if we find Sunshine, she has my makeup.” 

Connor’s pump was pounding, having Gavin hold his hand, and he nodded mutely. He tried to clear his throat, glancing around. There were so many people, but off to the right side was a very large group. “What’s going on there?” 

Gavin looked over, then frowned. “Protesters. Those that can will surround them to protect the kids and everyone else from them. Wanna go see? If not it’s ok, I couldn’t be around them for a while, now I like messing with them.” 

Connor nodded and Gavin kept a hold of his hand as he led him over. He could hear those screaming about god and repenting, how unnatural this was. He could also see the signs, some of them were also specifically anti-android. 

“How do you mess with them?” He was pretty sure that they weren’t allowed to touch each other, which helped both sides. 

Gavin smirked a bit. “Find someone willing and kiss him right in front of them. Freaks them out a lot.” Gavin was looking around, probably trying to find someone that would be willing. 

“We could,” he mumbled, probably not loud enough for Gavin to hear over the yelling but his head whipping around said otherwise. “We don’t have to! I just, considering they are also anti-android it would add to the effect, right?” He reached up, tapping his LED. 

Gavin stared at him with wide eyes before grinning. “Definitely. Come on, let’s get to the front.” He dragged him forward, politely pushing his way through until they were right in front of the group. 

They stood so Connor’s LED was facing them, and Gavin carefully reached up to cup his cheek. It was clear he was giving him time to back out, but Connor wouldn't. Those that were queer or supporting started cheering realizing what was happening. 

Connor leaned up, pressing his lips against Gavin’s. They were warm and a bit wet given the lipstick he was wearing. It sent a buzz from his lips down his spine as he pressed closer. He ignored the anger shouts of the protesters and even the cheers, just focused on Gavin pressed against him. 

It was hard, and long, sweet and indulgent, over far too quickly. Gavin broke it, panting, and then pushed back in for another, this one far more heated. Connor grabbed the chain connected to the collar he wore, keeping him close that way. It got wolf-whistles and catcalls, all in good nature though. Connor reached to hold Gavin by his waist with his other hand, titling his head to help deepen the kiss, their tongues sliding together. 

They pulled back slowly, both grinning widely. It was Connor’s first kiss and one he would never forget, not that he could, given he was an android. “That was fun,” Connor giggled. Gavin nodded and dragged them away from the group, getting a few pats for the show. 

Once away Gavin paused, reaching up and swiping his thumb across Connor’s lips, he froze, licking his lips without thinking. His tongue brushed against Gavin’s thumb, and he stopped breathing. 

“Sorry… had lipstick on you.” Gavin murmured, pulling his hands away. 

Connor reached up to touch his own lips, feeling how they still tingled from the kiss and now from the touch. “It’s ok, I don’t mind. Listen Gavin, I-“ 

“Connor!” Hank called and he spun around to see the man come up. “Damn kid, I couldn’t find you anywhere. You good?” He glanced at Gavin who looked like he just got caught stealing. 

“I’m ok, Gavin found me and we messed with some protesters! Here’s your drink,” he held it out, smiling widely at Hank. 

“Huh. At least you didn’t get lost… I uh, got you something too.” Hank shrugged, trying to play it off nonchalantly. 

Connor tilted his head, seeing how Hank had one hand behind his back Connor figured he was hiding something. “Oh?” 

Hank shrugged again and held out a package. Connor gasped when he saw what it was, looking between them and Hank. “Thank you!” It was the non-binary flag. He could hang this up in his room! He stepped up and threw his arms around Hank, pulling him into a tight but quick hug. 

Hank glanced at Gavin who had a fond look on his face before it quickly turned into a scowl and he looked away. Connor saw none of that, but stepped back from Hank. “Yeah, no problem kid.” 

Connor showed the package to Gavin who gave him a small smile and nod. Then he glanced down, biting his lip before unclipping the flag and pulling it away. He hesitated only for a second before putting it over Connor’s shoulders, using the two holes meant to put it on the pole to clip it together to make a cape. 

Connor went completely still as Gavin did so, feeling like his thirium pump was pounding away in his chest. He brought a hand up to touch where it was clasped together, his fingers brushing over Gavin’s. 

“Happy pride, Connor,” Gavin muttered just loud enough for Connor to hear over the chaos around him. 

Connor could help but beam at him, touched beyond words. He felt so loved here, so accepted by people who didn’t even know him, by Hank and Gavin. It was one of the most wonderful feelings in the world. “Happy pride, Gavin.”

(my art do not repost)