#but I’m curious on what you decide to do either way!

[admirationandromantics]

Best Friend's Brother

This request is literally 10 days old, which, to some, might not seem as a long time. For me however, it is. I'm sorry, but as I've described, I'm just trying to balance writing and school right now, so I'll be writing a little less than before.

Word count: 1,6k (unedited)

could u write a best friend older brother trope josh x reader. luv you works btww xx -anon

I knock on the door, waiting for Beth to open up. We’d planned a movie night while her parents were gone, and Hannah was at Sam’s. Josh was still home, but she told me he wouldn’t be a bother, and would probably stay in his room the whole night. 

I have met him many times before, and would even call us friends. Though at the same time, I often wonder if he looks at me like another baby sister, despite only being one year apart. He often gives me a hard time, teasing me and joking around, but most times, I don’t mind. I usually also hope that he never means anything with his small occasional comments, because nothing will happen either way. My best friend’s brother? That would be a problem just waiting to happen. 

Josh and I have been drunk together, partied together and been on get togethers together, though I’m not familiar with everyone in their group yet. 

I stand outside, my patience running low in the cold weather, wishing I brought a scarf. I hear footsteps coming from inside. Finally. The door unlocks, and a broad, tan Josh in a thin rolled up sweater and some sweatpants stands there, arm against the doorframe. He gives a small smile, looking me over. 

“Well, look who decided to come while the parents are out” he coos, a small whistling sound coming out of his lips. 

“Well, hello Joshua, care to let me in?” 

He smiles, contemplating whether to make this difficult or not. I look around, sighing and waiting for an answer, thinking about shouting Beth’s name and telling her that her brother is being a prick. Luckily, he opens the door further, making space for me to walk inside. “Thank you” I say, trying to hide my smile a bit. I’ve been here many times before, so I immediately know where to hang my coat and leave everything else. Josh keeps standing there, watching me. 

“Beth is out, said something about getting snacks for your movie night” He explains, and I nod. The store is not far from here, so she will probably be back soon. 

“Well then, do you know which movie she’s got planned?”

“Of course I do, I’m the one who helps pick them out”

I give him a curious and sceptical look, not having heard this before. He keeps his gaze locked on my gaze, a small smirk playing on his lips. 

“Have you?” 

“Every time” 

My mouth opens a little. Beth is always talking about her great taste in movies, never having mentioned this before. 

“No, are you serious? Beth has never given you any credit”

“Little sisters… what do you expect?” 

I hum, not knowing how to respond to that. I walk inside, him following closely as I sit myself by the kitchen counter. 

“So, what movie have you chosen then?” I ask, looking up at him again. Instead of sitting, he just leans against the counter with one arm, body turned my way. I can’t help my gaze, looking over his revealed forearms. 

“Something a bit different than usual…” he smirks, eyes following my gaze down to his arms. I break free, leaning forward a bit. 

“Okay, what movie?” 

“A scary one” 

“No”

“Oh yes” 

I whine, leaning back again. I hate scary movies, I hate jumpscares and gore. Why can’t people just like normal, funny, cozy stuff? 

“Josh, are you serious?”

“And there we go, you’re starting to use my nickname” 

“Joshua! Are you serious?”

“Well, that lasted for long”

I sigh, rolling my eyes. This is not how I want to spend my night, and considering that the walk home will be dark and scary, this movie will definitely fuel my fears. 

“Hey, calm down, it’s a good movie, maybe you just haven’t seen a good scary movie yet, this one might change your mind about the whole genre” He smiles, a hand going to my arm. I can't help the small blush coming from the touch, his fingers warm and comforting. I don’t want to do this, but I really can’t object when Beth is the one getting everything ready, and I just need to show up and have a good time. Or pretend I’m having a good time. 

The door opens, and his hand is immediately removed as Beth comes in, a big bag in her hands. She doesn’t notice me at first. 

“Beth!” I exclaim, and she lifts her head, nose a little red from the cold outside. 

“Hey, oh sorry, I didn’t have time to go earlier today” 

“That’s completely fine, here, let me take it” I state, walking over and taking the bag from her hands as she starts undressing. 

“My brother didn’t bother you?” 

I look over at him, and he just gives a small laugh, shaking his head and putting his hands up defensively. 

“No, he was fine” 

“Good, now, let's go” She smiles, leading me away from him, into their living room. She finds a couple of bowls, letting me distribute the snack in them as she works on getting the movie going. 

“Okay, so I know you’re not a scary movie-person, but I know this one is really good, so please, keep an open mind” 

I laugh a little, thinking back on the fact that Josh is the one who actually picked this out. 

“I’ll keep an open mind then” 

“Great” 

The movie starts, and we both sit down, a blanket over us as the lights dim. At first, the movie seems fine, the occasional jump scare, which scares me much more than it does Beth. Still, I keep watching, body tense and uncomfortable, but I can’t take my eyes off it. We’re in the middle when someone gets violently cut up, and the camera doesn’t bother to show us anything else than the blood and flesh flying everywhere, the gore not stopping. I take a breath, pulling my eyes from the screen and standing up. 

“I just need to use the bathroom”

“Gonna puke?”

I laugh a little, the tension in my shoulders easing as she talks. 

“No, but if there’s no important information in this sequence, please feel free to skip it, I'll be quick” I say, already making my way to the yellow-lighted hallway. It's light, in contrast to the room I was just in, and that makes me ease up a little more. Gosh, if this was to keep going, I wouldn’t dare walking home tonight. 

Suddenly, I hear a click, and the light goes away, leaving me in the dark hallway. I stop, looking around, unsure about what just happened. Another breath escapes my lips, reminding me that I can’t keep holding my breath everytime something startling happens. The hallway looks empty both ways, so I continue further, crossing my fingers that the light in the bathroom at least works. 

Before I can react, a couple of strong arms grab me from behind, caging me. I’m about to yell out, but as if anticipating it, the hand goes over my mouth, muffling my screams. I’m slammed into the wall, not too hard, luckily, but I close my eyes before the impact arrives. As I open them again, a smiling Josh is standing in front of me, biting his lips to hold in his laugh. My heart is still beating fast, breaths coming in and out in a rapid manner. I grab his hand roughly, dragging it off my mouth. 

“Joshua Washington! Are you fucking insane??” 

He bursts out laughing, arms against the wall beside me, holding himself up as he leans over. I shake my head, mouth still a little open in shock, whilst he can’t stop laughing. 

“Maybe, but you should’ve seen your face!” He chuckles, one of his hands going to his stomach to compose himself. It’s probably hurting right now from all the laughter. 

“Joshua! What the hell is wrong with you!?” 

“Okay, okay, calm down, just a little prank on my part” He smiles, finally calming down. 

“I have been watching a fucking horror movie, and you pull this shit?”

He bites his lip again, tilting his head a bit to examine me. 

“Oh, come on now, you’re totally thinking it’s funny” 

“No, I’m not” 

“Or you’re into it or something…”

“Wait, what, no I’m not, what kind of sick-”

Before I can process what’s happening, his lips are on me. I feel his breath, his body close, soft lips moving ove mine. My heart is still beating rapidly, but oddly enough, it calms with the way he’s touching me. Tender and carefully, not like himself at all. His hand goes to my waist, body pressing mine into the wall, opening his mouth a little. I hear a little groan leaving his throat. He pulls away, faces close as his eyes go over me, looking up and down. I almost think he looks a little vulnerable, but his signature smirk finds its way to his lips again. 

“Well then, calmer now?” 

I look at him, confused, conflicted. I scoff, shaking my head a bit. 

“No, I think I need a little more help” I state, hand going to the back of his neck, pulling him into me again. Capturing his lips on mine, already opening my mouth. He does the same, one hand on my hips, pulling me into him. 

“Hey, finished in the bathroom soon? I’ve paused the movie, the gore is over!” Beth shouts from the living room. We both pull away from each other and look over to the living room, luckily not seeing her there. I look back at him, seeing his chest heaving, hot breaths coming from his mouth. He turns, looking into my eyes. 

“Guess we better finish calming you down later” He smiles, pushing himself off me and the wall, walking back to his room. 

Fuck, what have I gotten myself into?

[foreststarflaime]

Helloooo I saw greek and decided to dive in to see if I could dig up any other juicy details hehehe <3

So setting aside the α- for a moment, because the λύσσα seems more relevant. Also I just want to examine what exactly we’re negating with that a-.

Lussa (alternative spelling of lyssa, υ can often be transliterated as u or y, I’m just using the u version because habit) does mean madness or rage, but since words never translate exactly across languages examining the context they’re used in can help you get a better idea of the specific nuances of how the word can be used. In homeric contexts (the Iliad), it’s used pretty much exclusively to mean a martial sort of rage or frenzy, still with that undertone of madness but used to describe warriors fighting aggressively. (Important sidenote: this is not the same word used to describe Achilles’ wrath in the opening of the poem, that’s menin μηνιν.)

This is…very Sephiroth. Yeahhh. I think it’s safe to say that if the Nibelheim Incident was a Greek epic, they would have used the word lussa to describe what he was doing.

Also, a few of the other possible translations the dictionary I was using suggests (in specific contexts, see below) include fanaticism and raging love. Seph obsessing over Jenova? Is that you?

But wait, there’s more! Because this is Greek, of course there’s a personified version of Lussa as a goddess (!! goddess feminine not masculine! fits the theming for sure)! And the story she’s mainly involved in is also…very Sephiroth. Enter Euripides’ Herakles (the greek way to spell it, Hercules is actually the romanized way, fun fact).

Starting off strong, Lussa introduces herself as the progeny of Night and the Sky, notably not of Gaia (the Earth). Not beating the Jenova allegations here. She is the one who (is sent unwillingly by Hera to) inspire this sort of martial madness into Heracles, causing him to suddenly slaughter a whole bunch of innocents (his entire family). Also, notably, while the chorus is describing Heracles’ maddened rage, they use a lot of snake imagery. Yknow. Like Seph’s snake eyes. Rip Nibelheim I mean Heracles’ family. Also interesting to note that Hera is so against Heracles because of his birthright (ie that he is a son of Zeus out of wedlock)—doomed because of your parentage king? Hm sounds familiar

Yeah insane Sephiroth is very Heracles coded and Lussa is very Jenova.

And then Alissa just tacks on the a- at the beginning and expects us not to notice anything is wrong. Yeahhh that’s not gonna cut it for me. PURPLE SUS. Greeeat disguise there, we totally didn’t allll see through it right away.

Even if she doesn’t turn out to be Jenova or a related eldritch horror, she’s definitely being set up to be a parallel as things look right now. And her name is…definitely backing that up.

LSJ dictionary entry if anyone is curious though it’s probably not that easy to understand with all the abbreviations

Who knows if they’re doing this on purpose or not. Either way I enjoy digging way too far into parallels

Hmmmm. Okay, about the name Alissa — I know we delved into the basic etymology but this is interesting, hear me out….

Alissa/Alyssa….if derived from the Alyssum flower…a flower that is famously often purple…

And it specifically is a sweet, alluring flower that symbolizes this “worth beyond beauty” and “without madness” effect….

“Lyssa” itself means rage or madness….but the full name is against those emotions…almost like a soothing spell….

Alissa. Alyssum. The flower that protects against madness and rage, huh.

[hoshifighting]

staff!jeonghan

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, fame problems, paris trip, idol!reader is a sweetheart with her staff team, teasing, hair pulling, makeup smudging hair destroying sex, face slap, paris sex.

staff!jeonghan who started way back when your career was just taking off. you were still fresh, the kind of new that had people curious but not quite sold on the idea of you making it long term. jeonghan wasn’t even supposed to be sticking around. dude was just a freelancer, floating between gigs like it was nothing. hairdresser one week, stylist the next, maybe even photographer’s assistant if he felt like it. didn’t care much either—just did his job, got his check, and dipped.

he was there the first time you came in for a shoot, thinking, oh, here we go again, another idol who doesn’t know shit about shit, and probably treats their staff like trash. honestly, he didn’t expect anything from you. he had his walls up like crazy. you’d been doing this for, what, a hot minute? and you were already getting attention, which just made him think, “yep, this one’s probably the snobby kind. won’t even acknowledge us when she’s walking by.”

but then you went and did the most surprising thing—like blew his expectations out of the water kinda surprise. you saw him—no, not just like saw him, but like saw him. took a minute to actually chat. asked how his day was, if he needed anything while he was running around fixing the stage lights or whatever. you even remembered his name by the end of the first day, which? yeah, idols usually don’t bother with that.

fast forward a couple months, and jeonghan’s still hanging around. he didn’t plan to stay, but something about you changed that. it wasn’t even the work, really. it was more like you made things different for the whole staff—hairdressers, makeup artists, stylists, all of them. you had this habit of, like, breaking all the usual rules. you’d bring coffee for everyone in the morning, none of that half-assed, "just for my personal team" bullshit, you made sure everyone was taken care of, because they take care of you as welll.

then there was that time when you randomly called up your manager one day like, "hey, i’m taking everyone out to eat after the shoot." and jeonghan was standing there, trying not to look too surprised, but inside he was like, who the hell does that? especially in this industry where staff usually gets a handshake and a “thanks for your work” at most. while you’re out here throwing cash around to make sure your team is happy. it’s wild.

he remembers the first time you handed out those holiday bonuses. it wasn’t even from the company’s budget either; it was straight up from your own wallet. like, your money. you didn’t even make a big deal about it, just casually handed out envelopes and said, “merry christmas, you guys.” you should’ve seen their faces—everyone was shook, even him, and he doesn’t get surprised that easily. it was one of those moments where the room just, like, collectively inhaled. there was silence, and then someone—probably one of the stylists—goes, “y/n, this is... you didn’t have to...”

and you? you just shrugged, all casual, like it was no big deal. “nah, i wanted to. thank you for taking care of me, you make part of all of this too.” you pointed to the stage.

jeonghan couldn’t even look at you right for a second because it was, like, damn, okay, she’s for real. that was the moment he decided he wasn’t just gonna treat this gig like all the others. working with you? yeah, it felt different. and not in some sappy, fairytale shit kind of way, but in a “maybe there are still people in this industry who aren’t complete assholes” kind of way.

“so you’re sticking around, hannie?” you asked him one day, catching him off guard while he was fixing up your jacket right before a stage performance.

he smirked, his usual cocky, nonchalant self, but there was something softer underneath it. “guess i don’t have a choice. you make it too easy.”

he was your go-to guy now, the one you trusted with everything, from making sure your hair wasn’t fucked up during press tours to giving you a reality check when you were stressing over the dumbest things. and he liked that. he liked being the one you leaned on when you didn’t wanna bother anyone else.

but it was more than that too. you were just different. the way you treated people, the way you made sure everyone around you felt seen, felt valued? it wasn’t fake. it wasn’t for show. it was you. and jeonghan? well, he wasn’t the kind of guy to stick around just for anyone. but for you? yeah, maybe he’d go the long haul.

jeonghan was always there, like a constant shadow that somehow made everything feel lighter instead of heavier. as your career blew up, he didn’t just keep pace—he matched your energy, your needs, every twist and turn that came with your fame. whether it was press tours, backstage chaos, or those ridiculous interviews where some clueless host would try to push your boundaries, he was always ready.

you’d be in the middle of a tv show, mind racing, and then there’d be a subtle shift. jeonghan standing just offstage, watching with a sharp, gaze of his. and it wasn’t like he had to do much—sometimes just a look was enough to let you know he had your back. like that time they tried to switch up your routine last minute, making changes that didn’t sit right with you. you didn’t even need to speak up, though. before you could say a word, he was already stepping in, throwing that effortless, yet somehow intimidating smile toward the team. “nah, we’re sticking with the original plan. my artist doesn’t do changes without notice.”

“your artist,” you’d hear him say that a lot, like a protective label stamped right over you, like you belonged to him—not in a possessive way, but in a way that made you feel safe. secure.

it wasn’t just about the work either, not even close. jeonghan made the loneliness that came with fame feel less suffocating. that part of fame nobody talks about—the part where you can’t make real friends anymore, where every new person in your life feels temporary, transactional. except him. he was loyal.

when you had those long, grueling days full of photoshoots and interviews and events, and all you wanted was to escape, jeonghan was the one who made sure you still had a piece of normal.

like that one time in paris. you were there for a fashion show, sitting front row with all these industry giants who couldn’t care less about anything but themselves, and jeonghan was right beside you, but afterward, when it was just the two of you, he was the one who dragged you to some random hole-in-the-wall restaurant down the street, far from all the cameras and flashing lights, ordering too much food and laughing at how terrible your french was.

“you know, you’re lucky you’ve got me,” he teased, watching you struggle with the menu. “otherwise, you’d be stuck ordering water and bread for the rest of the trip.”

you elbowed him playfully. “i’m just trying to be cultured, okay?”

“sure, sure,” he snickered, but the grin on his face was soft, like he was glad to be there with you. “leave the culture to me.”

he was there on the quieter days too. you’d be at home, no schedule to follow for once, just free. but that freedom? it felt empty when you didn’t have anyone to share it with. jeonghan got that. he’d show up at your place without even needing an invitation, like he just knew when you needed him there. sometimes he wouldn’t even knock. you’d just hear the door click open and his familiar voice, “you better not be working in there.”

you’d laugh, shouting back from wherever you were in the apartment, “i’m not, calm down.”

next thing you knew, he’d be on the floor of your pristine living room, surrounded by lego pieces because, for some reason, that’s what the two of you did on your days off. it was ridiculous, really, two adults crouched over colorful plastic blocks, but it made you feel like a kid again, like before everything got so complicated.

you’d crouch down next to him, watching his hands move, and without thinking, you’d wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. it wasn’t even romaaaantic, more like instinct. jeonghan had this way of making you feel safe, like you didn’t have to be the perfect version of yourself all the time. you could just be you. and hugging him like that, clinging onto him like a koala, it was the only way you knew how to show him just how much he meant to you.

“you’re clingy today,” he murmured, but there was no complaint in his voice, just that familiar teasing.

“you’re soft,” you shot back, squeezing him tighter, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his cologne was subtle but always the same, something that reminded you of quiet, peaceful moments, like this.

he tilted his head a little, catching your eyes “oh, yeah? not what you said last time.”

you puffed your cheeks out, crossing your arms dramatically, the sulk settling in. “i’m done being clingy with you, jeonghan.”

he grinned like he was waiting for that exact reaction. it’s almost like he lived for these moments—when you’d pout and try to act all tough, but really? he knew exactly where this was headed. you weren’t fooling anyone, especially not him.

“oh yeah?” he tilted his head, gaze dripping with amusement as he leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed your ear. “you sure about that?”

you tried to hold firm, but the way his voice dropped a little lower, teasing. you shifted your weight, crossing your legs under you on the living room floor, avoiding eye contact. “mmhmm. you’ll see.”

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, leaning back and watching you with a glint in his eyes, like he was just waiting for you to crack. “you’re too cute when you sulk, y’know that?”

your heart fluttered, but you bit down on the inside of your cheek, determined to keep up the act. “whatever.”

he moved closer, a hand sliding around your waist, tugging you just enough so that your body leaned into his. “nah, don’t pout, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing lightly against your jaw. “we both know how this ends.”

and he was right. because, every time you tried to act like you were done with him, like you were going to keep your distance, it only ended one way—with you wet underneath him, a needy mess, begging for more.

like that first time in paris. paris had done something to the both of you. it was supposed to be a normal night, just you and him hanging out after the fashion show. nothing special, just another city on the endless list of places you’d been together. but somehow, that night went different. the second the hotel room door clicked shut behind you, you’d scarcely made it through the door before his hands were on you, grabbing, pulling, claiming.

“thought you were gonna keep your distance,” jeonghan had teased as he pressed you up against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, making your knees weak.

you were already panting, feeling the warmness of him beaming off his body. “shut up, hannie.”

he chuckled against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you, making you gasp. “aww, so cute when you’re needy.”

and fuck, were you needy. by the time he’d pushed you onto the bed, tugging at your clothes, you were already whimpering for him, already soaked.

he’d dragged you to the edge, rough hands all over your body, pulling, squeezing, leaving marks everywhere. your hair had been perfect for the show, all sleek and done up, but that shit didn’t last long. the second he had his fist tangled in it, pulling your head back, it was ruined. thrusting into you from behind, his cock splitting you in half with each brutal thrust. “such a fucking mess.”

you’d tried to keep quiet, biting down on the pillow as your body rocked with every movement, but every time you let out a whiny moan, jeonghan was right there to mock you for it.

“aww, hannie’s being too harsh?” he cooed, as he tries to sound sweet. “hm? poor baby can’t take it?”

you’d only moaned louder, your body trembling as he slapped your ass, the sting making you cry out. he’d leaned down then, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “use your words, sweetheart. tell hannie how bad you want it.”

you couldn’t even speak, just a mess of broken moans and gasps as he kept slamming into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room. and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, when you were right on the edge, that’s when he did it. his hand came up to your face, smudging the glitter from the show as he slapped you—not enough to really hurt. he is a careful guy.

“fuck, y/n, look at you. such a pretty little mess,” he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you from behind, relentless. “you gonna come for me? c’mon, baby, let me hear it.”

you whimpered, nodding, your mind spinning as his cock hit that perfect spot over and over, making you roll your eyes, drool, everything u had right of. but just as you were about to cum, he pulled out, leaving you empty and desperate.

“aww, no no no, not yet,” jeonghan cooed, a wicked grin on his face as he turned you onto your back, pushing your legs open wide. “hannie’s not done with you.”

your heart pounded, your entire body aching for release, but you didn’t dare move. he was in control, and you knew better than to push him.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he leaned down, his lips brushing over yours as he teased you. “too much?”

you shook your head, barely able to get the words out. “n-no… please…”

his smirk widened, that wicked glint in his eyes making you shiver. “please what? gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

you whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets as you looked up at him, desperate. “please… fuck me…”

“good girl.”

[chancloud8]

Lose My Breath

Pairing: han jisung x reader x lee know

Word count: 5,5k

Summary: for their youtube series where they look for new hobbies, Jisung and Minho come to your studio for a lesson in pole dancing. neither of them expected to find more than a new hobby..

Tags: youtubers!minsung, pole dancer!reader, established minsung, fluff, smut, nsfw, 18+, fingering, oral (f), a bit of m/m kissing, threesome, nipple play, vaginal sex, mirror sex, creampie, pet names -sorry if i forgot anything!-

a/n: happy birthday to the lovely @staylovesmiley this one is for you! <3

‘Good morning lovely people,’ Jisung grins into the vlogging camera he’s holding. ‘Today Minho and I are going to try out a new activity in our quest to find a new hobby.’ 

You watch in silence as the gorgeous man who walked into your studio about fifteen minutes ago, explains to their audience what they’re about to do. He’s dressed in some loose grey sweatpants and a black tank top that shows off his broad shoulders. His black hair is tousled and he’s wearing black eyeliner that’s making his eyes pop. 

‘He’s a stunning little creature, isn’t he?’ a voice whispers next to you and you jump in surprise, bringing up your hand to cover your chest where your heart is beating so fast you can feel it thump against your palm.

‘You scared me,’ you laugh softly, not wanting to interrupt Jisung who’s still babbling to the camera and showing everyone the room. 

‘Sorry,’ Minho grins, bumping his shoulder against yours. ‘I have very quiet feet and you were pretty distracted by my man doing what he loves.’ 

You feel your cheeks heat at being caught staring at someone else’s boyfriend. Jisung and Minho are a very popular Youtube couple and you’ve been following them for years, silently crushing on both men as they made their way through life with their own camera’s following their every move. 

‘Oh, look who finally decided to join us!’ Jisung says then, turning the camera to you and Minho. ‘Say hi, baby.’ 

‘Hi,’ Minho says, waving a peace sign next to his face as his lips turn up in a small smile. 

‘And this is y/n, she will be teaching us today,’ Jisung introduces you and you too wave at the camera. 

Jisung turns the camera to himself again. ‘Wish us luck,’ he grins and then he lowers his arm and shuts off the camera. ‘Okay I’m all ready now.’

‘Did you bring any shorts like I requested in the email?’ you ask them, eyeing the sweats they’re both wearing. They may look ridiculously good in them, but wearing pants like that did not go well together with pole dancing.

‘Oh yes, we’re wearing some underneath,’ Minho says and then he promptly pushes down his sweatpants, revealing black athletic shorts. 

You blink and Jisung giggles. 

‘Min, baby, you can’t just start undressing in front of y/n,’ Jisung says, reaching over to help his boyfriend pull his pants over his shoes. 

‘I’m wearing shorts? It’s not like I’m naked,’ Minho mumbles, but his ears turn red. 

‘It’s fine,’ you smile at them. ‘I’ve seen it all after six years of dancing and teaching.’ 

Jisung makes a face as he too gets rid of his sweatpants, leaning heavily on Minho as he pushes them off his feet. ‘I can’t even imagine how some people probably show up to pole dance.’ 

‘Yeah, you don’t want to know,’ you laugh, not missing the curious glint in either of their eyes. 

You put on some soft music and start warming up, instructing the man what movements are best to prep their muscles and they easily fall into your warm up routine. 

‘Very good,’ you praise them when you’re done. ‘Do you want me to show you the whole routine I’ll be teaching you first or would you rather I’ll take you through it step by step?’ 

‘Routine,’ Minho says at the same time as Jisung goes; ‘Step by step.’ 

They look at each other and for a moment they seem to have a whole conversation with just their eyes until Minho raises his eyebrows and licks his lips, causing Jisung to let out a little whine, sagging his shoulders as his cheeks turn red. 

‘Routine first,’ Jisung agrees and you let your eyes wander between the two of them. 

Sexual tension seemed to roll off of them and you’re pretty sure that if both you and the camera weren’t here, Minho would have had Jisung pressed up against one of the mirrors in a heartbeat. 

‘What just happened there,’ you ask with a chuckle as you try to ignore what their interaction just did to you. It shouldn’t have been hot, but it was.

‘Nothing,’ Minho smiles. ‘Please show us the routine.’ 

Pushing away your feelings, you nod and get in position, winking at Jisung who’s still blushing. You start with the pole in front of you and grab onto the cold metal with one hand, easily maneuvering your body around it until your back is against the pole. You move your hips in a sensual way and reach up with your arms before arching your back as you move to lower your body and spread your legs. It’s a pretty sexy, but easy routine and you let your muscles move on auto pilot. 

When you end with your back against the pole again, only slightly out of breath, you can’t help but notice how both men have moved closer. Jisung his mouth is open in a little ‘o’ while Minho has his hands in his pockets, watching you with his head cocked as if he’s trying to figure out how you just did that. 

‘You want us to do that?’ Jisung asks. ‘That was–’ he clears his throat. ‘Very sexy.’ 

‘Agreed,’ Minho nods. 

‘Thank you,’ you smile. ‘And yes I will teach you how to do this.’ 

Jisung frowns, but when Minho pats his butt, he slowly walks towards one of the poles and stands before it like you had. 

‘Put all your fingers together, like this,’ you show them your hand. ‘And place it at forehead level on the pole. ‘Then you go ahead and sink under your arms,’ you instruct, moving your body to get in front of the pole with a sexy sway in your hips. 

When you look back at Jisung and Minho, they are nodding to themselves and get in position, placing their fingers against the metal. Both men follow your instructions and move smoothly to the front of the pole, just like you showed them. 

‘Very good!’ you grin at them, clapping your hands.

You show them the next move and once again they execute it perfectly. 

Jisung beams at you with sparkling eyes and you can’t help but compliment them again. ‘You have great form! I told you, you could do it!’

Jisung giggles and moves on the ball of his feet in excitement. ‘Show us the next move!’  

You go through the next few moves with them, correcting their postures here and there, but overall they take to the routine like a duck to water. 

‘There you go, very nice!’ you compliment the both of them with a little cheer when they finish going through the entire routine for the first time. 

You give them a few more pointers and at Jisung’s request you join them for the entire routine one more time before he goes to the camera’s to shut them off. 

‘That was way more fun than I thought it would be, easier as well,’ Minho admits, sitting down next to you on the floor as you start your cool down stretches. 

‘I haven’t heard someone say it was easier than expected in a long time,’ you chuckle, leaning forward to touch your toes. 

‘Oh,’ Minho frowns. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you.’ 

You sit up and shake your head with a smile. ‘You didn’t, don’t worry. It’s also been a while since I’ve seen someone take to it so easily, but I guess it makes sense with your dance background.’ 

‘Did I just hear you say we’re naturals?’ Jisung pipes up, letting his body fall to the floor on Minho’s other side, his head resting on his boyfriend's thigh. 

‘Yes,’ you laugh. ‘You have lots to learn, but if you commit to it, I am very sure you’ll be upside down in that pole and spinning around in no time.’ 

‘I’d rather focus on the fact that you know I have dance experience. You watch our videos?’ Minho asks, watching you carefully. 

‘I do,’ you nod, your cheeks heating up until you’re sure you’re as red as a beet. ‘I’ve been following you guys pretty much since the beginning.’ 

'Awww, really?' Jisung coos, sitting up again to also start stretching. ‘That’s so sweet.’ 

‘Why didn’t you say so sooner?’ Minho asks. 

You shrug and lift your arms above your head to stretch your back and shoulders. ‘You didn’t ask and I was being professional I guess.’ 

They both smile at you and the three of you chat about their channel for a while as you lead them through a cool down. 

‘Do you have any more lessons after this?’ Jisung asks when the three of you get up again and you offer them a bottle of water from your mini fridge. 

You look at your watch. ‘I do, but not for a few hours.’ 

Jisung shares a look with Minho. ‘Would you want to join us for lunch?’ 

‘Oh, uhm sure,’ you nod. ‘Why not!’ 

*******

In the next few weeks Minho and Jisung come back about twice a week for more lessons from you. Sometimes they film, sometimes they don’t and you love watching them grow each week, picking up on the movements quicker than any of your other students. They often bring you coffee or homemade treats that Minho made and you can comfortably say that the three of you have developed a bit of a friendship. 

There’s lingering touches sometimes and heated gazes when they watch you do your thing on the pole, but not once have they been inappropriate. They make you feel seen, sexy and safe. 

‘I have a question,’ Jisung says on a Thursday evening when you’ve just finished your lesson. 

‘Mhm,’ you hum, moving into your stretch. 

‘What do you think about us? I mean, how do you feel about us?’ 

‘What do you mean?’ you ask, sitting up so you can look at him. ‘Are you asking if I like you? Because of course I do. I’m very happy the two of you came into my life and I’d like to think we’re friends.’ 

‘Friends,’ Jisung mumbles and his brows furrow. ‘Right.’ 

You tilt your head in question. ‘Was that not what you wanted to hear? You don’t think we’re friends?’ 

Jisung’s eyes widen and he crawls closer to you, already having finished his stretches. ‘No, no I didn’t mean it like that! I love that you consider us friends, I just..’ he bites his lip nervously and glances at his boyfriend. 

Minho chuckles from your other side. ‘What he was meant to ask was, are you attracted to us?’ 

You nearly choke on your own spit at the unexpected question and you start coughing violently. Minho gently pats your back and Jisung hands you a bottle of water, his cheeks are red, but his eyes are hopeful. 

‘Sorry,’ you mumble when you finally feel like you can breathe again. ‘Did you just ask me if I think you’re hot?’ 

Minho lets out a laugh and Jisung giggles. 

‘Basically,’ Minho nods. 

‘Wow, okay,’ you mumble, taking another sip of water. ‘I mean, how can I not? Have you seen yourselves?’ 

The two of them share another look and Jisung scoots even closer to you until his knee touches your thigh. 

‘So you are attracted to us?’ Jisung repeats Minho’s question. 

Nervous butterflies swirl in your stomach and you suddenly feel hot all over by the way they both stare at you with the same heated gaze you’ve seen before. 

‘I- yes,’ you admit, licking your lips. ‘I am.’ 

Jisung smiles and beams at Minho, causing the older to chuckle at his boyfriend and lean closer to you to reach out and pinch Jisung his chin. ‘Patience, baby.’ 

‘I’m not patient and you know it,’ Jisung pouts and both Minho and you laugh at his sad face. 

Minho lets go of Jisung and places his hand on your thigh. His touch immediately heats up your entire leg and when you look down to see his long fingers against your bare leg, you nearly groan out loud. 

‘We have a question for you, pretty,’ Minho says, his voice sounds lower than usual and it makes you shiver. ‘And I need you to answer honestly, can you do that?’ 

You nod and look up at him, meeting his eyes. ‘I can.’ 

‘Good,’ he smiles. ‘If you say no, I promise there will be no hard feelings between us and we can still be friends.’ 

Your mouth suddenly feels dry and you wish you were still holding onto that bottle of water, but you nod again anyway. 

‘You see,’ Jisung starts, placing his hand on your other thigh. ‘We’ve had this fantasy for a while now, but never found the right person.’ 

‘But now we did,’ Minho continues. ‘You fit with us perfectly and we both like you very much.’ 

Jisung nods enthusiastically, his fingers tightening on your thigh a bit. ‘We’re kind of hoping that you feel the same way about us.’  

You blink at them, your head moving left to right to look at them both. ‘I’m flattered, but I’m not sure what you’re asking of me? Is it sex? A one night stand? A relationship?’ 

‘For now it’s sex,’ Minho grins. ‘But we’re open to more if it leads to that.’ 

‘Alright,’ you say, nodding slowly, your thoughts racing about as loud as your heartbeat. ‘And you want it now?’ 

Jisung lets out a little whine and leans in to press a sweet kiss to your shoulder. ‘We wanted it yesterday, last week, hell the day we met actually, but now works.’ 

You laugh at his ridiculous babbling and place your hand on top of his own. ‘Now works for me as well, but one of you will have to get up to lock the door.’ 

You’ve barely finished the sentence when Jisung jumps up and jogs towards the little hallway where the entrance for your studio is. You giggle at his eagerness before turning towards Minho who’s already looking at you. 

‘You’re sure?’ he asks.

You nod and feeling bold, you move and crawl into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. ‘Oh, I’m sure.’ 

Minho’s hands immediately clasp your hips to pull you even closer, pressing your clothed chores against each other. You bite your lip when you feel how hard he is already and without a second thought you crash your mouth against his. He responds right away, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you in place against his body while the other moves so he can grab onto the back of your neck. 

‘Hey, you started without me,’ you hear Jisung’s voice say faintly behind you before you feel a strong warmth pressing against your back. 

A hand moves your hair to the side, freeing your neck and a heartbeat later lips are pressed against your skin. Minho slips his tongue inside your mouth when you gasp and a moan escapes your throat as he tangles it with yours while Jisung leaves open mouthed kisses on your neck. 

‘Hmm if I'd known you wanted this, I would have asked earlier,’ Jisung says against your skin while gliding his hands from your sides to your bare thighs and then back upward towards your breasts. 

You can only moan again in response, too busy kissing Minho, which he is obviously very good at. It’s messy, wet and hot and you love every second of it. 

‘Hmm you make such pretty noises,’ Jisung whispers against your neck, his fingers slipping underneath the sports bra you’re wearing. ‘I can’t wait to make you scream when I eat you out.’ 

You arch your back for as far as you’re able to and a violent shiver goes through your body when Jisung teases your nipples, twirling his fingers around the sensitive buds. Minho breaks the kiss and leans back a little so he can look down at where Jisung’s hands disappear underneath your sports bra. 

‘Take it off,’ he says to his boyfriend. 

Jisung does as he says and frees your breasts in one quick motion, slipping the top over your head and throwing it behind him on the floor. 

‘Hmm beautiful,’ Minho mutters, moving his hands to caress your stomach and up towards the underside of your breasts before cupping them. ‘So perfect.’ 

You claw at Minho’s shirt, trying to take it off and make it even. He chuckles at your efforts and leans in to capture your lips again, successfully distracting you from your task. Behind you, you hear the rustling of clothes and when Minho lets go of your lips again, he turns you around and basically drops you in Jisungs lap. 

‘Hello baby,’ Jisung grins, eying your naked breasts that heave with every pant that leaves your mouth. 

He has taken off everything but his boxers and you take a moment to appreciate his lean form, smooth skin and the tattoos that cover his chest. He’s absolutely mouthwatering. 

‘Hi yourself,’ you purr, reaching out to trace the large tattoo on his side. ‘I like your tattoos.’ 

Jisung preens under the compliment and pulls you closer. ‘How much?’ 

Giggling you lean forward to press your lips against the black compass on the left side of his chest. Your tongue sneaks out to trail a wet line all over the ink and Jisung lets out a surprised grunt at the feeling. He grabs onto your neck and pulls you up to kiss you. 

His lips are even softer than Minho’s and you melt into him, moving your hands to his strong shoulders and then to his hair to tangle your fingers in the soft black strands. 

It should surprise you how fast you adapted to this situation with the two men you only met a few weeks ago, but seeing as you’ve been crushing on them for years, it probably wasn’t that hard for your brain to accept. 

A naked chest presses against your back then and hands move from your hips to the front of your black yoga shorts, cupping your clothed pussy. Liquid heat spreads through your entire body and you let out an embarrassing whine against Jisung’s lips when Minho pulls his hand away again to tug at the waistband.

‘Can I take it off?’ he asks, pressing a small kiss on your shoulder. 

You pull back from Jisung’s mouth and giggle when he pouts at you. His lips are swollen and red and his pupils are elated, he looks even prettier than usual like this. 

‘Stand up, baby,’ Minho says and you’re not sure if it's to you or Jisung, but the both of you get up with his help. ‘Good, now take it off.’ 

Minho smirks as once again, both you and Jisung follow his demand. Jisung pulls off his boxers, his dick springing free against his toned stomach, a drop of pre cum already drips down his length and your mouth waters at the sight. You quickly follow his lead and take off your shorts, shedding your underwear as well. 

‘Look at that, I’ve got two lovely stunning creatures now,’ Minho hums, licking his lips as his eyes devour every inch of naked skin in front of him. ‘Ji, baby, why don’t you get on your knees for y/n.’ 

Jisung drops to his knees right away, his hot breath tickling against your pelvis bone as he scoots closer to you. The sight of his mouth only inches away from your pussy makes your legs feel weak and you look at Minho with pleading eyes, hoping he’ll understand you’ll need his support if his boyfriend is going to make a meal out of you. 

Minho grins, drops his own boxers to the floor and strides over to you with three big steps. He pulls you against his chest, his arm hooking around your waist underneath your breast to hold you steady. 

‘Feast away, baby,’ he tells Jisung. 

One of your legs is placed over Jisung’s shoulder and then he licks a fat stripe between your already slick lips, all the way from your hole to your clit. If it wasn't for Minho’s hold on you, you would have collapsed. 

‘Fuccckk,’ you moan, your head falling back against Minho’s shoulder. 

Jisung hums and dives in again, this time putting even more pressure with his tongue. Your hips buck on their own accord and Jisung reaches up to hold you in place against Minho. 

‘Hmm you taste delicious, baby,’ he murmurs against your folds, nipping at them with his teeth. 

‘Unnghh,’ is all you are able to let out, your brain feeling hazy with lust and pleasure. 

Minho starts placing wet open mouthed kisses against your neck as his free hand plays with your nipple, while Jisung keeps lapping at your clit with his skillful tongue. Heat curls in your stomach and when he adds a finger and curls it just right, you cry out so loud that it startles you a bit. You’ve never been this loud before. The thought immediately leaves your brain when another finger is added to your heat and your legs are starting to shake.

‘Please, Sungie,’ you moan, trying to buck your hips again. 

Jisung picks up the pace, moving his tongue and his finger in tandem. 

‘That’s it, kitten, let go for us,’ Minho whispers in your ear as his fingers twist and pull your already sensitive nipple. 

‘So close,’ you whine, the coil in your belly getting tighter and tighter. 

When it snaps your eyes roll back and you moan Jisung’s name. Your legs give out, but Minho’s hold keeps you up as Jisungs keeps moving his fingers until he’s sure you’ve ridden out your orgasm. 

‘Hmm so sexy,’ he says against the inside of your thigh, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your skin there. 

Your legs shake and Minho gently lowers himself and therefore you to the floor. He sits you down in his lap and moves your limbs around like you're a doll. 

‘Look at that,’ he hums, leaning his chin on your shoulder. 

‘Hmm?’ you hum, still a bit hazy from your release. 

‘Look in the mirror,’ Jisung says, moving to sit behind Minho. 

You do as he says and gasp at the sight that greets you. You barely recognize yourself, naked, flushed skin, big eyes and wild hair. Your feet are on either side of Minho’s thighs, causing your legs to stay open and displaying your glistering pussy for all of you to see in the mirror. 

Minho moves his hands from your breasts towards your core and when his finger gently dips into your soaking folds, you shiver. 

‘Mhhgh, sensitive,’ you mutter, but you don’t slap his hand away. 

‘You can take it,’ Minho whispers, biting the skin between your shoulder and neck. 

Jisung moves to your side and lays down onto his stomach, his chin resting on your thigh as he stares at your pussy with big hungry eyes like he hadn’t just eaten you out already. His tongue is peeking out of his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was drunk or at least a little tipsy. 

‘Can I go again?’ he asks, looking up at Minho. 

‘No,’ Minho growls. ‘It’s my turn to play.’ 

Jisung huffs, but stays where he is, pressing a soft kiss on your thigh. You reach out to pat his hair and he smiles up at you. 

‘You ready, kitten?’ Minho asks, his free hand coming up to circle your throat lightly. ‘I want you to keep looking in the mirror the entire time, okay?’ 

All you can do is nod, your gaze connecting with his through the mirror. 

‘Good girl, now watch how easily you’ll take my finger.’ 

Minho slips his finger inside and your mouth falls open at the sensation. It’s only one finger, but it still feels so unbelievably good. Your head falls back against Minho’s shoulder, but you make sure to keep your eyes on the mirror, watching as he starts pumping his finger in and out of you. Wet slopping sounds fill the studio and soon your moans echo off the walls as well. 

‘More, Minho, please,’ you beg, the sensitivity from before completely gone. 

Minho’s fingers leave your throat to play with one of your nipples again, pinching the bud between his thumb and forefinger. Jisung sits up beside you and takes the other nipple in his mouth, sucking and twirling his tongue around it until you’re a shivering mess. A second finger is added to your core and your eyes fall close as the pleasure nearly overwhelms you. 

‘Eyes open,’ Minho growls in your ear, pinching your nipple so hard a yelp leaves your mouth. 

It’s a good type of pain and when your eyes lock with Minho’s once more and his thumb brushes over your swollen clit, you fall over the edge for the second time. Your legs are shaking violently and it takes everything in you to keep your eyes from rolling back inside your head. 

‘Such a good girl,’ Minho murmurs, kissing your neck as he fingers you through your orgasm. ‘So tight and responsive.’ 

‘She’s perfect,’ Jisung says, his mouth still attached to your breast. 

‘God,’ you groan, coming down from your high. ‘You guys are.. fuck.’ 

Jisung laughs and pulls back to look at you, his hand coming up to push a sweaty piece of hair behind your ear. ‘We’re just Minsung, baby.’ 

You smile at hearing their nickname and reach out to touch his chest. ‘That’s enough for me.’ 

‘Good, because we’re not done with you yet,’ Jisung smirks. ‘How’d you feel about riding my di–’ 

You don’t let him finish and push yourself up against Minho’s thighs to basically launch yourself against him. Your legs still feel like jelly, but Minho’s hands on your hips help you straddle Jisung who laughs in pleasant surprise at your attack. 

‘I guess that’s one way to answer,’ he grins. ‘You’re that desperate for me, huh?’ 

‘Oh shut up,’ you laugh, lining yourself up with Minho’s help. 

‘You can just say you want to be fu–’ Jisung’s mouth falls open when you sink down, your walls clenching around him. ‘Fuck, fuck fuck,’ he groans, throwing his head back and exposing his long neck. 

You waste no time to lick a fat stripe from his collarbone all the way to just behind his ear and he shivers beneath you. Minho moves to sit beside you and grabs onto the back of Jisung’s neck, pulling his head back up. 

‘How does she feel, Jagi?’ he asks Jisung when you roll your hips forward before bouncing up and down. 

‘So good,’ Jisung whines. ‘So tight and warm.’ 

Minho groans and leans forward to catch Jisungs lips with his own, kissing him feverishly. The sight of their tongues tangling is breathtaking and you can’t help but slow your movements to enjoy the view. 

Jisung moans and grabs onto your hips, his tongue still battling Minho’s, but the instruction is clear and you slowly increase your speed again before leaning in to press open mouthed kisses against Jisung’s neck. 

When Minho pulls back and Jisung whines at the loss, you tilt your head up and press your lips against his instead. The kiss is messy and wet and your rhythm fails again as you’re too focused on both the kiss and the noises Jisung makes. 

‘Such pretty noises, right?’ Minho murmurs, burying his face into your neck and biting down on your skin again. 

You hum against Jisung’s lips and arch your back when Minho’s fingers twirl around your hard and abused nipples. They're so sensitive that it sends a shock through your body and you moan into Jisungs mouth, your hips faltering. Both their hands find their way to your hips and help you move. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room and the feeling of being sandwiched between two hot bodies makes the coil in your stomach tighten once more, heat spreading through your veins as your third orgasm approaches. 

Jisung comes first, his hips rutting up with little shocks as he moans into your mouth. Minho quickly moves his hand down to your folds to circle and pinch your clit. You’re a withering mess in seconds and when he bites down on your shoulder you actually come with a scream this time. 

Your body sags against Jisung and for a moment the three of you just sit there, hugging each other and catching your breath. 

‘Do you think you’d have one more in you?’ Minho asks when the sweat on your skin is starting to cool down enough for you to shiver in their arms. 

Never in your life have you come more than three times in a row, but the thought of saying no doesn’t even cross your mind, especially when you feel his cock twitch against your ass. 

‘Only if you take me against the mirror,’ you tease, looking over your shoulder to wink at him. 

You’re only partly joking, but Minho just grins at you and stands up. He gently pulls you off of Jisung, chuckling softly when the both of you shiver when his softening cock slides out of you, before he easily hauls you up in his arms and wraps your legs around his waist. 

‘I’ve had a dream about this,’ Minho mumbles as he approaches the mirrored wall and presses your naked back against the cold glass. 

‘I’ve thought about this too,’ you admit, blushing. ‘But it was actually you fucking Jisung against the mirror.’ 

‘I want that!’ Jisung squeals behind you.  

Minho laughs and repositions you in his arms so his cock is teasing your soaking entrance. ‘I’m sure we can make that fantasy come through as well.’ 

Your eyes widen and that’s when he sinks home, pushing all the way into you with one smooth movement. 

‘Oh, fuck,’ you moan, his cock stretching you deliciously.

‘How are you still so tight,’ Minho pants, his hands squeezing your ass. ‘Fuck.’ A droplet of sweat drips down from his hairline to his chin and you follow it with hazy eyes before focussing on his lips where his teeth are biting into his bottom lip. 

‘She feels amazing, doesn’t she?’ Jisung has gotten up from the floor and is now pressed up against Minho’s back, his chin leaning on his shoulder.

‘So good,’ Minho agrees, squeezing his eyes shut as he ruts his hip upwards. 

‘Mhmh,’ you moan, pleasure is already building in your belly again and your eyes flutter shut as your head falls back against the mirror. 

This time Minho doesn’t scold you to keep your eyes open, he just buries his face in your neck and attacks your skin with his tongue and teeth. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about him today, it’s that he likes to bite and leave marks.

The sensation of his cock pounding into you, the cold mirror at your back and the warmth of his tongue against your neck is almost too much. Your muscles tremble and when Jisung reaches around Minho to let his hands travel all over your body, you start to feel dizzy. 

‘Please,’ you murmur, clenching your walls around Minho. ‘Please, Minho.’ 

You’re not sure if you’re begging for him to come or to go faster, you just know that it’s all getting too much. Tears start to leak from your eyes as your body doesn’t know what to do with the overload of sensations. 

‘I’m close, Jagi,’ Minho murmurs against your neck, nipping at your collarbone. ‘Let go for me, yeah?’ 

You sob and dig your fingers into his shoulders as the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had takes over your body. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, your limbs are spasming and your vision turns black for a second or two. 

A grunt leaves Minho’s throat as he comes inside you, his hands holding you close as he presses soft kisses all over your shoulders, neck and face while Jisung runs his fingers through your hair and whispers sweet praises in your ear. 

When your body goes lax in Minho’s arms he sinks to the floor and cuddles you close. Jisung curls his body around your back and once more the three of you just sit there and cuddle into each other's warmth for a while. 

‘Next time we’re doing this, we need to pick a more comfortable place than the floor of your studio or against the mirror,’ Jisung says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. ‘As hot as it is.’ 

‘But the mirrors,’ Minho pouts. 

You and Jisung both giggle and you reach out to tap his bottom lip with your finger. ‘So you want to do this again?’ you ask, smiling up at him.  

Minho raises his eyebrows at you and tightens his arms around your waist. ‘Don’t you?’ 

Oh fuck yes.

a/n: i'm still pretty new to writing smut so uhm I hope that was good lmao. (it was a lot of fun to write hehe) If you enjoyed reading, please consider leaving a comment and/or reblog <3

shoutout to @staybabblingbaby for helping me brainstorm, u rock <3

general taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @girl-in-love-with-kpop @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @corgilover20 @littlelostdemonofthelight @stephanieeeyang @zulie-and-cats @chanshugsaretherapy @pizzalove5000 @dazzlingjade @milie-com @thequibbie @channiesrightasscheek @strawbrriz @delulustardust

[lizziesangel]

As someone that does NOT want kids, and seeing no oneshots about it…….I was thinking….Maybe Reader and Rafe have not yet had a discussion about it, as they are pretty early on in their dating (but in love) and her heart breaks when during a conversation (either with her/or her overhearing Rafe) it sounds like he wants them in the future with her. And she feels like she needs to break up with him so he can be happy and get what he wants. Loooooots of angst. But unknown to her, Rafe’s mindset is more ‘’I’ve never wanted kids, but if I was ever gonna have them, it would be with her, SHE makes me want them, but I would never want them with anyone else. It’s with her or no one’’

stop, this is such a beautiful request!! - 7.4k words

the sound of laughter echoed down the hall as you approached sarah’s room. you had stopped by tannyhill to check on her, bringing some homemade cookies since pregnancy had turned her into a snack connoisseur. but as you lifted your hand to knock on her bedroom door, sarah’s voice carried through the partially closed door, halting you in your tracks.

“so, rafe,” sarah’s voice rang out, teasing but curious, “what about you? would you ever want kids?”

you froze. her question caught you completely off guard, and before you could decide whether to knock or retreat, rafe’s voice answered.

“me? kids?” he chuckled, the sound light but contemplative. “i don’t know. i’ve never really thought about it seriously. i mean… the idea...”

“oh, come on,” sarah teased. “really?”

“yeah,” rafe admitted with a laugh. “but, i don’t know.”

“maybe it’s not as terrifying as i used to think.”

“that’s grossly sentimental for you, bro,” john b chimed in, his voice carrying a smirk.

“shut up,” rafe shot back, but there was no real venom in his tone. after a beat, he continued, “i mean, not now. God, no. we’ve still got plenty of time. we’re not that old yet.”

“so, you do think you’d want kids someday?” sarah pressed.

rafe nodded as his voice softened, thoughtful. “i think i might. someday, when things are right. i think i’d want that.”

your stomach twisted painfully at his words. it was the first time you’d ever heard him talk about wanting kids. and the fact that he sounded so… open to the idea? so sure, even if it was distant and vague? your chest tightened, your breath catching in your throat.

“huh,” sarah said after a pause, clearly surprised. “that’s not what i expected you to say.”

“yeah, well,” rafe let out a wry chuckle. “i just never gave it a real thought before.”

“either way, if it happens someday, i’d be okay with it.”

john b whistled low. “never thought i’d hear you say that, dude.”

“guess i’m full of surprises,” rafe quipped.

the three of them laughed, but you couldn’t move. his words were swirling in your mind, sinking in like stones into water, creating ripples of panic that spread through every part of you.

you backed away from the door, clutching the plate of cookies like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality. your thoughts blurred into a dizzying mess as you made your way down the hall, heart pounding in your chest.

rafe wanted kids.

not now, but someday. he wanted a future that included something you’d never imagined for yourself. the realization hit you like a wave, and for the first time since you’d fallen for him, you wondered if love would be enough to hold you both together.

the faint sound of footsteps descending the stairs broke through the quiet hum of the kitchen. you busied yourself with arranging the cookies on a plate, your movements deliberate, careful, as though focusing on the small task would keep your thoughts in check.

“hey, baby,” rafe’s voice came from the doorway, warm and casual. he stepped in, his hair slightly tousled, his expression relaxed. the sight of him sent a pang through your chest, but you forced a small smile and turned toward him.

“hi,” you replied softly, keeping your tone light. “these cookies are for sarah, but take one if you want one.”

he approached, his gaze flickering to you before landing on the plate. “you okay? you didn’t come up to sarah’s room.”

you shrugged, busying yourself with wiping imaginary crumbs off the counter. “i wasn’t feeling great. thought i’d just drop these off and head home.”

his brow furrowed, concern flickering in his eyes. “what’s wrong? anything i can do?”

“you look kinda pale.”

you waved a hand dismissively, stepping back from the counter and crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “i’m fine, just… not feeling great. probably something i ate.” the words felt hollow, but they were enough to deflect.

he frowned, his concern deepening. “anything i can do? want me to get you some water or—?”

“no,” you cut in, the word sharper than you intended. you softened immediately, forcing a small smile. “i’m fine. really. i think i just need to head home and rest.”

rafe stepped closer, his hand brushing your arm, a gentle tether to reality. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you said quickly, looking anywhere but at him. “i’ll be fine. don’t worry about me.”

rafe didn’t seem convinced. he stepped closer, his gaze searching your face. “you sure? i can drive you home if you want.”

you avoided his eyes, turning to rearrange the plate of cookies unnecessarily. “that’s sweet, but i’ll be okay. it’s not a big deal.”

his gaze lingered on you, uncertain, before he nodded. “alright. but if you need anything, just call me, okay?”

you nodded, your smile stretched too thin. “of course.”

rafe leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. the gesture was warm, tender, and it made the ache in your chest intensify. he pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you in that familiar way that always made you feel safe. but tonight, it felt different—like the embrace of someone standing on one side of an invisible divide while you stood on the other.

“get some rest, alright?” he murmured against your hair.

“yeah,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “i will.”

for a moment, the two of you stood there, the air between you heavy with unsaid words. then you stepped back, putting a little space between you and his earnest concern.

“well, enjoy the cookies,” you said, trying to inject some brightness into your tone. “sarah’s gonna love them, i think.”

rafe’s lips curved into a small smile, though his eyes lingered on you, still laced with worry. “she will. you’re amazing for making them.”

you waved him off with a faint laugh, already heading toward the door. “tell her i said hi.”

“hey,” he called after you, his voice stopping you just as your hand touched the doorknob. when you turned back, his expression was serious, almost hesitant. “take care of yourself, alright?”

your heart twisted, but you forced a steady nod. “i will. see you later, rafe.”

he lingered for a moment, as if sensing something was off, before letting you go. he watched you walk away.

as the door clicked shut behind you, the silence pressed down heavily, and you sank into your car, staring blankly at the street in front of you. the disconnect between your love for him and the path his words upstairs had revealed felt like an unbridgeable chasm.

you sat there for what felt like an eternity, detached from everything except the pounding in your chest and the weight of the questions you didn’t yet know how to answer.

the bathroom was quiet except for the soft hum of your phone speaker, playing a low, calming playlist. the pale light above the mirror cast a warm glow over your face as you leaned in, focusing on the small ritual of doing your makeup. the act was as soothing as it was deliberate—something to keep your hands busy and your mind steady.

you started with foundation, dotting the liquid across your face and blending it out with a damp beauty blender. the repetitive motion was grounding, the soft pat-pat-pat against your skin a reminder to breathe. you took your time, making sure everything looked even, though rafe had never seemed to notice the small imperfections you always fretted over. he’d tell you, you looked beautiful even if you showed up barefaced, hair messy, and wearing sweatpants.

but tonight wasn’t just any night. it was saturday, your night, and for the past five months, it had become a routine you both cherished. rafe would pick you up, dressed to perfection, and take you somewhere special. every week was different—a cozy little café one night, a moonlit stroll on the beach another. and tonight? he’d hinted at something fancy, something that made your chest flutter with excitement.

you reached for your concealer next, dabbing it under your eyes and along the sides of your nose. as you blended it out, your mind wandered. you hadn’t thought about that conversation in a few days, but as always, it came creeping back.

“i think i might. someday.”

rafe’s voice echoed in your mind, soft but resolute. the words had taken root, an unshakable presence that you couldn’t quite ignore. he had sounded so open to the idea of a future you’d never envisioned for yourself. and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, it lingered.

you shook your head, focusing on your reflection. not tonight. you weren’t going to let those thoughts ruin what should be a perfect evening.

your blush came next, a warm, rosy hue that you dusted lightly across your cheeks. it brightened your face, giving you a soft glow. you smiled faintly, testing it in the mirror, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. ‘fake it till you make it,’ you told yourself, setting the brush down.

moving on to your eyes, you picked up a neutral-toned palette and traced a soft brown into the crease of your lids, blending carefully. the act of applying eyeshadow always required precision, and for a while, it was all you could think about—whether the colors matched, if they blended smoothly.

when you finished, you reached for your eyeliner, hesitating for a moment. you didn’t always wear it, but tonight felt like an eyeliner kind of night. you traced a thin line along your upper lashes, flicking it out into a small wing at the corners. it wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

lashes were the final touch for your eyes, and you took your time applying it, brushing the wand through your lashes until they were looked full enough. the transformation was subtle but striking, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel satisfied.

the last step was your lips. you chose a specific shade, one that complemented your dress without drawing too much attention. as you swiped the color across your lips, you caught your own gaze in the mirror. you looked… good.

stepping back, you assessed the final result. the makeup was understated but elegant, a perfect match for the dress waiting for you on the hanger. you tilted your head, testing a smile. this one felt more real, though there was still a faint unease lurking beneath the surface.

it’s just another saturday. just another date with rafe. stop. overthinking.

grabbing a makeup wipe, you cleaned the edges of the sink and glanced at the time. he’d be here soon. the thought sent a rush of nervous energy through you, the kind that always came just before you saw him.

you leaned in one last time, making sure everything was just right before stepping back. “good enough,” you muttered to yourself, forcing another smile.

the sound of a car horn outside startled you, and you grabbed your purse, giving yourself a final once-over in the mirror. with a deep breath, you turned off the bathroom light and headed for the door, bracing yourself for the night ahead.

the soft hum of the car engine filled the air as rafe drove, one hand resting on the wheel, the other casually draped over the center console. the smell of his cologne—crisp and woodsy—lingered in the small space, grounding you in the moment. he looked over at you, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard lights, and smiled.

“still not going to tell me where we’re going?” you asked, your voice teasing as you glanced over at him.

“nope,” he replied with a smirk, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “you’ll find out soon enough. trust me, it’s worth the suspense.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, but you couldn’t help the small flutter of anticipation that stirred in your chest.

the drive was peaceful, the city lights stretching out around you as the car wove through the streets. you found yourself relaxing into the rhythm of the ride, the faint sound of music playing in the background as you chatted about your week. rafe had a way of making you forget about everything else, his steady presence filling the space with an easy warmth.

“okay, here we are,” he said, pulling into a sleek, modern building with a glowing sign that read le jardin. the valet was already stepping forward as rafe parked, opening your door with a flourish.

you stepped out, your heels clicking against the even pavement, taking in the restaurant’s elegant exterior. tall glass windows gave a glimpse into the softly lit interior, where tables were set with crisp white linens and flickering candles. it was the kind of place you’d never have thought to go on your own—too fancy, too refined. but with rafe beside you, it felt like you belonged.

“you really went all out tonight,” you said, slipping your hand into his as you approached the entrance.

he looked down at you, his grin softening into something warmer. “you deserve it.”

inside, the maître d’ greeted you with a smile, clearly recognizing rafe. he led you to a quiet table near the back, where a single candle flickered in the center of the table. the low hum of conversation filled the air, mingling with the soft strains of a piano playing somewhere in the distance.

rafe pulled out your chair for you before taking his own seat across the table. the intimacy of the setting, combined with the way he looked at you, sent a wave of warmth rushing through you.

“you’ve been here before?” you asked, glancing at the menu, which was printed in both french and english.

“once or twice,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair. “figured you’d like it. plus, i hear the chocolate soufflé is life-changing.”

“is that so?” you asked with a laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“oh, definitely,” he said, his expression serious in a way that was clearly exaggerated. “it’s basically the reason i brought you here.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. he had a way of making you feel at ease, of turning even the most sophisticated setting into something comfortable and fun.

the waiter appeared, taking your drink orders and explaining the evening’s specials. you let rafe order for both of you, trusting his judgment, and before long, the first course arrived—a beautifully plated dish that looked almost too good to eat.

as the evening went on, the conversation flowed effortlessly. you found yourself laughing at his jokes, your worries melting away with each passing moment. there was something intoxicating about the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the room, his attention unwavering.

when the dessert arrived—a shared chocolate soufflé with a dollop of whipped cream on the side—he scooped up a bite and held it out to you.

“here,” he said, his eyes dancing with amusement. “you’ve gotta try this.”

you leaned forward, taking the offered bite, and your eyes widened as the rich, velvety chocolate melted on your tongue.

“okay, you weren’t kidding,” you said, savoring the taste. “this is amazing.”

“told you,” he said smugly, taking a bite for himself.

by the time the bill arrived, you felt lighter than you had in days, the tension you’d carried with you earlier almost forgotten. rafe reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice quiet, his gaze searching.

“yeah,” you said softly, meeting his eyes. ��i’m good.”

he smiled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “good.”

as you left the restaurant, his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close. the cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

but as you climbed back into the car and the city lights blurred past the windows, the memory of his words from that day at tannyhill crept back into your mind. “i think i might. someday.”

you tried to push the thought away, focusing instead on the sound of his voice as he told you a story about something ridiculous sarah had done earlier that week. for now, you would hold onto this—the laughter, the warmth, the way he made you feel like nothing else mattered. even if the future still felt uncertain, tonight, you had him. and that was enough.

the hum of the engine and the gentle rhythm of the tires against the road filled the quiet as rafe drove, his hand resting comfortably on the wheel. the warm night air filtered through the cracked windows, carrying with it the faint scent of salt from the ocean.

it was late—later than you usually stayed out—but neither of you seemed eager for the night to end. you glanced over at him, watching the way the soft glow of the dashboard lights cast shadows across his face. he looked relaxed, one hand loosely gripping the wheel while the other rested on his thigh.

“where are we going?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the peaceful stillness.

“you’ll see,” he replied, glancing at you with a small smile. “just trust me.”

“i always do,” you said softly, and his smile widened.

the road stretched out before you, empty and quiet, lined with tall palm trees that swayed gently in the warm breeze. above, the sky was a vast expanse of deep indigo, dotted with countless stars that seemed to twinkle just for you. you leaned your head against the window, watching them blur and shimmer as the car rolled along.

rafe reached over and took your hand, his fingers threading through yours with an ease that made your heart flutter. his palm was warm against yours, grounding you in the moment.

“it’s so quiet,” you murmured, looking out at the horizon. the ocean was just barely visible now, a dark, endless expanse that mirrored the sky.

“yeah,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “figured we could use some quiet after tonight.”

you smiled, squeezing his hand. “it was perfect, by the way. the restaurant, the soufflé… all of it. thank you.”

he glanced at you briefly, his blue eyes soft. “you don’t have to thank me. i just like seeing you happy.”

your chest tightened at his words, and you looked away, focusing on the stars again. it wasn’t just what he said—it was the way he said it, so matter-of-fact, like your happiness was the most important thing in the world to him.

after a few more minutes, he turned down a narrow, unpaved road that wound through the dunes. the sound of the ocean grew louder, the rhythmic crash of waves filling the night air. he parked the car at the edge of a small clearing and turned off the engine, leaving only the soft chirping of crickets and the distant roar of the sea.

“come on,” he said, stepping out and coming around to open your door.

you took his hand as you stepped out, the sand cool beneath your feet as you took of your heels. the beach stretched out before you, illuminated by the pale light of the moon and stars. the water glittered in the distance, its surface shifting and shimmering with each wave.

“it’s beautiful,” you said, your voice barely audible over the sound of the ocean.

“not as beautiful as you,” rafe quipped, grinning when you rolled your eyes.

he slipped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you walked toward the shoreline. the warm breeze carried the scent of salt and seaweed, and the sand was soft and cool beneath your feet. you kicked off your shoes without a second thought, letting your toes sink into it.

rafe led you to a spot where the dunes gave way to a flat stretch of sand, and he sank down, tugging you gently to join him. you sat beside him, your shoulder brushing his, as you both looked up at the stars.

“they’re so bright out here,” you said, tilting your head back.

“yeah,” rafe agreed, his voice quiet. “hard to see them like this back in town.”

Fforr a while, neither of you spoke, content to sit in the stillness. his arm draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm. the simple touch sent shivers down your spine, but not from the cold—it was the kind of warmth that came from feeling completely safe, completely at ease.

“what are you thinking about?” he asked eventually, his voice breaking the silence.

you hesitated, unsure how to put it into words. “just… this,” you said finally, gesturing toward the sky. “how big it all is... and how small we are.”

rafe chuckled softly. “getting philosophical on me now?”

“maybe,” you said with a smile. “it’s just… nights like this make me feel like everything’s okay. like it doesn’t matter how messy life gets because this”—you gestured again, to the ocean, the stars, everything—“is always here.”

he was quiet for a moment, then said, “i get that. it’s kind of nice, isn’t it? knowing that some things don’t change.”

you turned to look at him, his face illuminated by the faint glow of the moon. he was already watching you, his expression soft and open in a way that made your heart ache.

“yeah,” you said quietly. “it is.”

without thinking, you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arm tightening around you.

“thanks for bringing me here,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“anytime,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “i’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

you didn’t respond, but the way your fingers curled around his was answer enough. together, you sat beneath the stars, the waves crashing in the distance, the rest of the world fading away.

that was, until the sound of a sudden snuffling startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. a dog—a big, floppy-eared golden retriever—trotted past, his nose buried in the sand as he sniffed around curiously. his tail wagged with enthusiasm, sending little puffs of sand into the air.

“charlie!” a woman’s voice called out, tinged with both amusement and exasperation. “get back here!”

you turned toward the sound, spotting a figure approaching in the distance. as the dog made his way over to you and rafe, his owner hurried closer, followed by a man holding the hand of a young child who couldn’t have been older than three.

“i’m so sorry!” the woman said as she reached you, her hand resting on the swell of her pregnant belly. she looked flustered, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “he gets too excited around people.”

“especially when he smells the ocean. i hope he didn’t bother you.”

“no, not at all,” rafe said, grinning as he crouched to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “charlie, huh? he’s a good boy.”

the dog wagged his tail even harder, clearly pleased with the attention.

the woman smiled, her relief evident. “he’s just a bit too enthusiastic sometimes.”

“it’s all good,” rafe said with a warm smile.

the woman laughed, her embarrassment giving way to gratitude. “thank you for being so understanding. it’s been chaos trying to wrangle him and the little one while…” she patted her belly, her voice trailing off.

“when’s the baby due?” rafe asked, his voice filled with genuine interest.

“oh, just a few weeks now,” she said, resting a hand on her belly. “it feels like forever, though. this one’s been much more active than our first.”

her husband laughed, shifting the toddler on his shoulders. “that’s an understatement. i keep telling her it’s because this one’s going to be a soccer player.”

“but, we’re so excited,” his wife replied, taking a hold of her toddler’s hanging hand.

“and you sound proud already,” rafe said with a chuckle.

“of course,” the man replied, beaming. “family’s everything.”

“she’s been amazing through everything. i don’t know how she does it.”

the woman rolled her eyes playfully at her husband but smiled, her expression softening as she looked at her family.

rafe chuckled, straightening up. “congratulations. that’s awesome. you’ve got a beautiful family.”

“thank you,” the man said, clearly glowing with pride. “and good luck to you two someday.”

rafe laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he replied, “yeah, thank you. i can’t wait.”

the words felt like a punch to your stomach. your eyes snapped to rafe, and for a second, the world seemed to stop spinning. time itself seemed to freeze as you watched him.

his face was glowing, his eyes wide and filled with an excitement you hadn’t seen before. they sparkled, brighter than the stars above, his expression open and so unguarded that it took your breath away.

full of something you could only describe as hope.

it was a look so pure, so unburdened, that for a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning. the waves went silent, the stars froze in their constellations, and the night held its breath.

but that feeling in your chest wasn’t warmth or joy—it was a cold, sinking dread.

you couldn’t move. you couldn’t breathe. the sight of him—so happy, so open—sent a sharp pang through your chest, twisting and knotting into something that felt almost unbearable.

the family waved as they turned to leave, the dog bounding along happily beside them. rafe sat beside you, watching them go with a soft smile on his face, his hand slipping into yours.

“that’s the dream, huh?” he said quietly, more to himself than to you. then he turned to you, his smile growing.

“i can’t wait for us to get to that point, you know? when we’re married and starting our own little family.”

his words shattered the fragile calm you’d been clinging to. your chest tightened, and your throat felt like it was closing up. the thought of his dream—the dream you couldn’t seem to picture for yourself.

your stomach flipped violently, a wave of nausea crashing over you as the words sank in. you couldn’t think, couldn’t process. the idyllic vision he painted—the future he clearly dreamed of—it wasn’t yours. And it was becoming painfully clear that it might never be.

suddenly, the stars seemed too bright, the air too thick, and the sand felt like it was swallowing you whole.

“i—” you cut yourself off, swallowing hard. “i think i want to go home.”

he blinked, his brow furrowing slightly. “what? are you okay? did something happen?”

you shook your head quickly, avoiding his eyes. “no, nothing. i just… i don’t feel great.”

“do you want to—”

“no,” you said, a little too sharply. “i just… i need to go home.”

rafe hesitated, clearly concerned, but he nodded. “okay. let’s go.”

the drive back was a quiet one, the kind of silence that wasn’t quite comfortable but wasn’t unbearable either. the hum of the engine and the soft murmur of your playlist from the car speakers filled the void. your phone had connected to rafe’s car the moment he started it, as it always did—a small, automatic reminder of how intertwined your lives had become without you even noticing.

the familiar melodies from your favorite songs drifted through the car, songs you’d once shared with him on a whim, now part of the soundtrack to every drive you took together.

it felt all bittersweet.

rafe glanced at you every so often, his fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel in time with the music. you kept your gaze fixed on the window, watching the streetlights blur as they passed. the warm glow of the night had given way to the cool, dim quiet of the late hour, and the stars still hung heavy above, visible even through the city lights.

when he pulled into your driveway, he put the car in park but didn’t make a move to turn it off. for a moment, the two of you just sat there, the last strains of a song fading into the next.

“thanks for tonight,” you said softly, finally breaking the silence. “i had a lot of fun… while it lasted.”

his lips quirked into a small, hesitant smile. “i’m glad you did. you looked like you were having a good time.”

“i was,” you admitted, your voice quieter now.

he studied you for a moment, as though trying to decipher the meaning behind your words, before he leaned across the console. his hand reached for yours, his fingers brushing yours gently, and for the first time since leaving the beach, you looked at him.

“are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice filled with a concern that made your chest ache.

you nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “yeah. just tired.”

he didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. the gesture was so tender, so inherently rafe, that it made the knot in your chest tighten even further.

“let me walk you to your door,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle, leaving no room for argument.

you nodded silently, and the two of you stepped out of the car. the night air was cooler now, the faint sound of crickets filling the quiet as he fell into step beside you. he held your hand loosely as you walked up the path, the familiar warmth of his touch somehow both comforting and overwhelming.

when you reached your door, he turned to face you, his gaze searching yours for something you couldn’t bring yourself to offer.

“goodnight, baby,” he said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek, lingering just long enough for your breath to catch. “text me if you need anything, okay?”

“i will,” you lied, the words barely audible.

you stepped inside, offering him one last fleeting smile before closing the door. through the crack in the curtains, you watched as he stood there for a moment, his hands in his pockets, before finally turning and walking back to his car.

the sight of his taillights disappearing down the street left you standing in the quiet of your home, your heart heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.

the days that followed your night at the beach were heavy and strange. you found yourself retreating into your thoughts, replaying almost every moment you had with rafe and analyzing it to exhaustion. you hadn’t returned his texts or calls right away, and when you finally did, your responses were clipped and neutral.

he noticed, of course. rafe always noticed. but he didn’t push, at least not at first.

it wasn’t that you didn’t care for him—you did, deeply. that was the problem. you cared too much, and the thought of a future you couldn’t share, one he so clearly dreamed of, felt like an anchor pulling you down. you didn’t want to hurt him, but you couldn’t see a way forward that wouldn’t.

so, after days of avoiding him and mulling over your options, you texted him, asking to meet at the frozen yogurt place you both liked. it was neutral ground, public, somewhere you could speak without the intimacy of his car or your home.

when you arrived, he was already there, sitting at a secluded table in the corner. his smile was warm as he waved you over, but you barely managed one in return.

the froyo place felt colder than usual, even though the warm pastel colors and hum of the machines usually made it inviting. he looked so at ease, one arm draped casually over the back of his chair, a smile spreading across his face the moment he saw you.

“hey,” he greeted, leaning back in his chair as you sat down. “i got here a little early, so i already ordered. figured you’d want your usual.”

“thanks,” you said softly, avoiding his gaze as you fiddled with your bag.

he frowned slightly, but his expression quickly shifted to something lighter as he started talking, filling the space with his voice.

“so, the other day, topper had this brilliant idea—well, okay, not brilliant—but he wanted to see if we could—”

you weren’t really listening. the words blurred together as your thoughts drowned them out. your chest tightened as you worked up the courage to say what you’d been rehearsing in your head for days.

“—but kelce, being kelce, is just standing there filming the whole thing instead of helping. and, of course, he—”

“i think we should break up.”

the words sliced through his story like a blade, abrupt and jagged.

it fell from your lips before you could stop them, your voice flat and abrupt. the sound of them seemed to hang in the air, sharp and irreversible.

rafe stopped mid-sentence, blinking at you like he hadn’t heard right. “what?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his brows knitting together.

you couldn’t look at him. your gaze stayed fixed on the table, your fingers tracing the edge of your cup. “i think we should break up,” you repeated, quieter this time.

for a moment, he just stared at you, the confusion in his expression giving way to disbelief. “you’re kidding,” he said, a weak laugh escaping his lips. “this is a joke, right?”

his hand fell to the table, “where is this coming from? did i… did i do something wrong?”

you shook your head, your throat tightening as you forced the words out. “i’m serious, rafe.”

“serious?” he echoed, his voice dropping lower. “what are you talking about? where the hell is this coming from?”

“no,” you added quickly, “it’s not you, rafe. it’s just… i don’t think this is working.”

“not working?” he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “since when? things were fine—great, even! we’ve been great!”

“please don’t make this harder,” you interrupted, your voice cracking.

“harder?” he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “i think i deserve an explanation at least. if i did something, just tell me, and we can—”

“it’s not you.”

but the words sounded hollow even to your own ears.

“not me?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “then what is it? is there someone else? did i do something—God, just tell me what’s going on!”

“it’s not about you!” you snapped, your tone sharper than you intended. the sting of your own words made you wince. “it’s not like that, rafe!” you snapped, your voice cracking as your composure began to slip.

“i just… i can’t do this right now, okay?”

“then what is it?” his voice broke, the raw emotion in it twisting the knife in your chest. “you can’t just say you want to end things without a reason. we’re not kids, and i deserve to know why the hell you’re doing this.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. every explanation you’d rehearsed felt inadequate, and the weight of his gaze pinned you to the spot.

when the silence stretched too long, his face fell, his blue eyes darkening with hurt. “you’re not even going to try to explain?” he asked, his voice trembling now.

“i can’t do this,” you said, your voice barely audible as you stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor.

“wait, just—” he reached out instinctively, his hand brushing yours, but you pulled away like his touch burned.

“i have to go,” you said, your voice breaking completely.

“don’t do this,” he said, his tone almost pleading now.

“just… don’t go. please.”

but you didn’t look back. you pushed through the door and into the cool evening air, your chest heaving as you tried to breathe past the lump in your throat. his voice called after you, raw and desperate, but you didn’t stop.

you took the long way home, winding through narrow paths and side streets where cars couldn’t follow. the ache in your legs was nothing compared to the hollow, gnawing pain in your chest.

when you finally reached your front door, you collapsed against it, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. his face—confused, hurt, betrayed—was burned into your mind, and the sound of his voice pleading with you echoed in your ears.

you told yourself it was for the best. that someday, he’d understand.

two weeks had passed since that day at the frozen yogurt place. you'd kept to your routine, going to school, trying to pretend like everything was fine. it had never felt more unnatural, avoiding rafe in the halls, ignoring his messages, avoiding his eyes. but it was what you had to do, right? you had to push him away before he got any closer.

but tonight, as you sat in your room, the sound of rain pattering against your window, something felt different.

a knock on the door startled you, and you froze. who would be out there at this hour, especially with the storm raging outside?

when you opened the door, your heart skipped a beat. standing there, drenched from head to toe, was rafe.

his hair was plastered to his forehead, his shirt soaked through, his usual confident posture lost in the slumped shoulders that screamed exhaustion and heartbreak. his breath hitched as he saw you, eyes wide, his lips trembling.

“i couldn’t stay away,” he said, voice hoarse, barely audible over the storm.

you stood frozen for a moment, staring at him in shock. what was he doing here? why was he here? he had made it clear you were done. you’d made it clear.

but seeing him there, in front of you, eyes filled with a desperation you had never seen before, broke something inside you. without thinking, you stepped aside, pulling him in through the door.

“rafe, you’re soaked…” you mumbled, your heart pounding as you led him into the warmth of your living room. his wet clothes left puddles on the floor as you quickly grabbed a towel from the kitchen, your hands trembling slightly as you began to dry his hair.

“i don’t care,” he whispered, almost fiercely, his voice thick with emotion. he stood still, not meeting your gaze, just letting you work in silence.

the tension in the room was thick, but after a long moment, rafe finally spoke again, his voice cracking under the weight of the words.

“i’ve never been so sure of anything in my life… that i want a future with you. i can’t imagine it without you,” he said, his eyes meeting yours now.

“i don’t care what happens in the future, or how hard it gets, i want you. i need you, and i can’t lose you. please, don’t make me lose you.”

your heart ached at the rawness of his words, and you pulled the towel away from his head, your fingers brushing against his skin, still damp and cold.

“rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you led him to the couch, sitting beside him. “i never wanted to hurt you. you mean everything to me.”

he looked at you, his eyes pleading, his voice barely a whisper as he finally broke down. “i thought i had everything figured out, but you… you changed me, for the better. i don’t care about anything else. i just want to be with you, now and forever. you make me see a future i never thought i wanted, and i’m terrified of losing it. losing you.”

you felt your chest tighten, the storm outside reflecting the storm inside you. he was so vulnerable, so open, and it was breaking you.

but the words you needed to say, the reason you broke up with him, had been eating away at you for days, and now, you knew it was time.

“rafe… i… i was—i am scared,” you began, your voice shaky. “i was scared of how much i cared about you, of how much i wanted things to work, but i didn’t think we could. i can’t give you what you want. and i don’t want to hold you back from whatever future you had in mind.”

he reached for your hand, his grip tight and desperate. “what are you talking about? i don’t need anything else. i just need you.”

you looked at him, your heart pounding as the words finally came, spilling out in a rush. “i’m talking about children. the one you were dreaming of. i don’t think i’m ready for that. i don’t think i’ll ever be ready. i don’t want kids.”

rafe blinked, the shock on his face growing as he processed your words, and for a moment, silence filled the room.

then, slowly, his lips parted, and he reached for your hand, pulling it gently toward his chest. his eyes burned with an intensity you couldn’t look away from.

“you’re everything i’ve ever wanted. i’d never want it with anyone else. i don’t care about the future without you,” he said, his voice raw and urgent. “if i can’t have it with you, i don’t want it at all.”

you stared at him, your heart racing. the weight of his words hung in the air, and despite all the doubts you’d had, the walls you’d built, you couldn’t help but feel them start to crumble.

the air between you and rafe hung heavy with unsaid words, the tension thick with the vulnerability you both shared. the storm outside had grown worse, but inside, everything felt still, almost suspended in time. rafe’s gaze never left yours, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he loosened it even for a second.

you couldn’t speak at first, couldn’t find the right words to bridge the gap between what you both felt. the silence was unbearable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was just… raw. vulnerable. everything that had been left unspoken, hanging in the space between you, was finally being acknowledged.

“i’m sorry,” rafe’s voice cracked, breaking the quiet, and you felt your chest tighten at the sincerity in his words. “i should’ve… i should’ve asked what you needed. i should’ve paid more attention to how you were feeling. i was too focused on what i wanted. on the idea of what we could be.”

you shook your head, your thumb brushing gently across the back of his hand. “no, rafe. it wasn’t you, it was me. i was scared of how much i needed you, how much i wanted things to work. i didn’t think i could give you what you wanted… the future you dreamed of.”

“but i don’t want a future without you,” he whispered urgently, his eyes pleading, as if the very idea of being without you was something unbearable. “i don’t care what it looks like. i just want it to be with you. i don’t care about anything else.”

“we could adopt a cat or ten, i don’t care, as long as you’re by my side.”

your breath caught in your throat at his words, and for a moment, it felt like everything inside you had come undone, like the walls you’d built were nothing more than fragile dust in the air. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the rawness of everything he was feeling. and it was terrifying. terrifying because it mirrored exactly what you had been trying to avoid.

but you couldn’t avoid it anymore. you couldn’t keep pushing him away when all you wanted was to hold him close.

“baby,” you whispered.

“i’ll never want anyone else. it’s always been you, and it will always be you. i’m not going anywhere.” he said, his voice steady now, his gaze intense as he looked deep into your eyes.

you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mix of relief and pain washing over you. the way he looked at you, with such certainty and devotion, made everything feel like it was falling back into place. the pieces of your heart that had shattered began to slowly piece together again.

he reached for you then, pulling you into his arms, and you let him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calm the chaos inside of you. his arms wrapped around you tightly, almost as if he was afraid to let go, and you clung to him just as desperately.

“i don’t know what to say,” you mumbled against his chest, voice muffled as you tried to hold back your tears. “i didn’t want to hurt you, rafe. i thought if i just ended things, i wouldn’t have to face how much i cared about you.”

“you don’t have to say or do anything,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “just let me hold you, please. let me be here for you. i don’t care about anything else.”

you felt the weight of everything finally start to lift, and in the warmth of his arms, it felt like you could finally breathe again. you pulled back slightly to look at him, his face soft and tired, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your heart flutter.

“i don’t want to be without you, either,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i was just… scared. scared of what this could mean. scared of how much i needed you.”

“you don’t have to be scared,” rafe said softly, his thumb gently brushing away a tear that had escaped. “i’m not going anywhere. i’ll never leave you. i promise.”

you nodded, finally allowing yourself to relax, feeling his warmth envelop you in a way that made everything seem possible again. the storm outside had finally started to settle, and inside, it felt like the world was starting to right itself.

“i love you, i’m sorry,” you whispered, the words feeling both foreign and familiar as they slipped from your lips.

rafe’s eyes softened, and he smiled, that soft, genuine smile that you loved so much. “i love you too. more than you’ll ever know.”

you both stayed there for a long time, not saying anything, just holding each other, feeling the storm outside fade into the background as the warmth between you two grew.

and for the first time in what felt like forever, you knew that everything was going to be okay.

MASTERLIST

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @honeyluvsatj ⟢ @zazidot ⟢ @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 ⟢ @lunaleah ⟢ @maybanksangel ⟢ @wtfdudesblog. ⟢ @niktwazny303. ⟢ @outerbanksloverp4l

[ahqkas]

♯ THE SWEET ESCAPE ( you find out the batboys have fanfics written about them ! )

— gn!reader, fluff + comedy, suggestive comments in dick’s part, jason’s too ( couldn’t stop myself ), based on this req.!!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

THE WAYNE MANOR WAS QUIET, SAVE FOR THE SOFT CRACKLE OF THE FIREPLACE and the gentle tapping of your fingers against your phone screen. bruce sat at his desk across the study, engrossed in paperwork, his reading glasses perched on the sharp bridge of his nose. the evening had fallen into a comfortable silence, the kind of peaceful lull that felt rare amidst the chaos of dark gotham.

every so often, though, he’d glance up, noticing the way you seemed utterly absorbed in whatever you were doing on your phone. your brows would furrow in concentration, then smooth out as a quiet laugh escaped you. it wasn’t just one laugh either; it was a series of them—sometimes soft giggles, other times a burst of snickers that you quickly tried to stifle.

you were so adorable and you had no idea.

bruce’s natural curiosity was piqued. you weren’t the type to be easily distracted, especially not for this long. “what’s so funny?” he asked, his deep voice breaking the quiet.

you didn’t immediately answer to his question, too caught up in scrolling through whatever was on your screen. another chuckle slipped out before you glanced up, realizing he was watching you with an arched brow.

“oh,” you acknowledged him now, your grin widening mischievously. “curiosity got to me.”

the man tilted his head slightly, waiting for you to elaborate.

“i’m checking out your batman fanfics,” you explained with your voice sounding entirely too casual as you went back to scrolling the net.

for a moment, bruce simply blinked, processing your words. “my what?” disbelief and concern were etched in his voice along with his eyes wide and brows furrowed.

“fanfiction,” you repeated, looking up at him with a glimmer of amusement in your eyes upon witnessing his reaction. it was funny, seeing him like this. “you know, the stories people write about you. well, about batman, but still. there’s an entire app of it.”

bruce leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that made him look both skeptical and mildly intrigued. his sharp, discerning eyes, the same ones that had seen through countless lies and hidden riddles, were now fixed squarely on you. the faintest crease appeared between his brows, betraying just a hint of exasperation beneath his otherwise calm exterior. “and what exactly made you decide to look this up?” he asked in a steady voice but carrying the subtle undertone of someone bracing for impact—like a detective piecing together a story he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the ending of.

you shrugged, biting back another laugh as your eyes returned to your phone. “i was curious. i mean, it’s not like you have a PR team or interviews for people to obsess over, so this is where the public’s imagination goes. it’s fascinating.”

pinching the bridge of his nose, the weight of your words settling over him like a blanket, and he let out a long, measured sigh. it was the kind of sigh reserved for moments when bruce wayne—esteemed billionaire and relentless vigilante—was confronted with something that defied his finely logic. his fingers pressed lightly against the frame of his glasses as if trying to stave off an impending headache. “fascinating isn’t the word i’d use,” he said in the end. there was no anger, just the faintest trace of amusement buried beneath the weariness, as if he couldn’t decide whether to lecture you or just accept the absurdity of the situation.

“it’s harmless.”

rising to his full height, he raked a hand through the dark strands of his hair. as always, curiosity—or perhaps concern—won out. he made his way over to you, his steps unhurried but purposeful. stopping just beside your plush chair, bruce rested a hand lightly on the back of it, his towering frame impossible to ignore as he looked down at you. “i’m not sure i want to know what that means,” the slight quirk of his lips betrayed the fact that some part of him couldn’t help but be curious.

“oh, you definitely don’t,” you teased, holding your phone away as he leaned down to try and get a look. “some of this is so creative. did you know there’s a whole subcategory where you’re a single dad trying to raise the batkids and find love?”

bruce raised an eyebrow. “you mean something i actually am doing?” except he’d already found love in you.

“exactly! except in this version, you’re baking cookies for PTA meetings and teaching kids how to ride bikes. it’s adorable.”

he shook his head slowly, the movement like it belonged in an old movie, as if trying to dismiss the mental image of whatever ridiculous stories you’d found. “and what about the rest of it?” he asked. “should i be worried?” the words were light, almost teasing, but there was a thread of genuine concern, as if he were bracing himself for the possibility that your exploration into this strange corner of the internet might have uncovered something truly outrageous—or worse, embarrassing.

“well . . . ” you hesitated, your grin turning a bit sheepish as the answer to his question brewed in your mind. “let’s just say not all of it is as wholesome as the single-dad stories.”

frowning, he leaned more into the back of your chair. “how unwholesome are we talking?”

you burst into laughter at his expression, your hand flying to cover your mouth and silence the sound of joy. “bruce, don’t worry. i’m not reading anything too scandalous. though . . . ” you trailed off, pretending to think deeply, “there was one story about you and superman . . . ”

bruce groaned again, this time louder, the sound resonating with a mix of frustration and resignation as if he had just heard the most absurd thing imaginable—which, frankly, he had. he dragged a hand down his face, his fingers briefly covering his glasses as though shielding himself from the mental image your words had planted. “i don’t think i want to hear the rest of that sentence,” he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief.

the thought of batman x superman was enough to make even his composure falter. he shook his head slightly, as if trying to physically dispel the notion, but the faint pink creeping up his neck betrayed his discomfort. there were certain things even a man of the likes of bruce wayne was unprepared to confront, and apparently, this was one of them. just image clark’s reaction to this literature.

“but it was so well-written!” defending, you shook with laughter now. “i mean, the dialogue was spot on. and the angst! i had no idea people thought you two had a forbidden love affair going on.”

the poor stared at you, deadpan. “you’re enjoying this far too much.”

“of course i am. how often do i get to tease you about something you can’t control? this is gold.”

you laughed again, your joy infectious, and bruce couldn’t help but smile despite himself. the whole thing was ridiculous, but seeing you so happy—and knowing you could find lightness even in the strangest corners of his world—made it all worthwhile.

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

IN WAS A QUIET EVENING IN YOUR SHARED PENTHOUSE, the kind where the soft hum of the city below became a soothing backdrop to the peace inside. dick grayson, having wrapped up his latest patrol, was lounging on the couch, his legs stretched out and his suit traded for something more comfortable: a fitted t-shirt and sweatpants, casual yet effortlessly put together. you were curled up beside him, your phone in hand, completely absorbed in whatever you were doing. every few moments, a soft chuckle would escape your lips, followed by a quiet giggle, and your boyfriend couldn’t help but glance over at you, his curiosity piqued.

“hey,” he said, shifting on the couch and propping himself up on one elbow. “what are you reading? you’ve been at it for a while now.” His voice, as always, was light, teasing in its usual playful way, but with a hint of genuine curiosity. he could never resist wondering what kept your attention so thoroughly when he was nearby.

you glanced up from your phone, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you turned to face him. “curiosity got to me,” you said, voice carrying an almost conspiratorial tone. “i’m checking out nightwing fanfics.”

dick’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he blinked a few times as if trying to process what you’d just said. for a split second, he was silent, before his lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “fanfics?” his voice dripped with amusement. “about me? are you telling me there’s a whole genre of stories about your boyfriend?”

you gave a little shrug, the hint of a grin tugging at your lips. “well, nightwing, i guess,” you corrected, “but yeah, turns out there are a lot of people who find your nightwing persona pretty . . . inspiring.” you paused and then added with a playful glint in your eye, “some of them even think you’re, like, the ultimate heartthrob. you’ve got a pretty good following.”

a soft chuckle escaped dick’s lips, and he sat up fully now, his eyes narrowing in mock contemplation. “heartthrob, huh? i knew i was good, but i didn’t realize i had a cult following.” he ran a hand through the dark strands of his hair, his usual cocky grin settling on his face, though there was a warmth to it as he leaned toward you. “you sure you’re not getting jealous over my popularity?”

laughing, you shook your head, the sound light and teasing, but there was something in your expression that made your boyfriend pause. it wasn’t just the laughter—it was the way your eyes lingered on the screen, a spark of genuine curiosity dancing in their depths. amusement tugged at your lips as you scrolled further, like you’d stumbled into some strange, secret world that you couldn’t quite tear yourself away from whatever strange rabbit hole you’d fallen into.

“so what are they writing about?” dick asked, now more intrigued than ever, leaning closer. he wasn’t the kind of person to shy away from teasing himself, and the thought of others putting him in such exaggerated, dramatic situations made his amusement even more apparent. “anything interesting? how am i portrayed? a misunderstood vigilante with a heart of gold?”

you scrolled to one of the stories, reading aloud a few choice lines. “this one’s about nightwing coming back from a long mission, injured, and you get nursed back to health by your adoring fan who just so happens to be the one who had intrigued you,” the mischievous smile now curled fully on your lips.

dick blinked, his blue eyes widening with mock disbelief as he leaned closer to you, trying to catch a glimpse of your phone screen. “wait, me?” he asked with his voice pitching slightly between surprise and amusement, the edges of a grin tugging at his lips. “i get hurt? in a fanfic?” he scoffed, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest, feigning offense. “i call bullshit. i’m practically invincible,” he added with confidence, tilting his head as if daring you to prove him wrong. but there was a playful glint in his eyes, the kind that told you he was just as entertained by this as you were, even if he wasn’t quite ready to admit it. “what next? i’m crying because i stubbed my toe? these people clearly don’t know me.”

“well, apparently you’re human in this one, but you’re still handsome as ever.”

“but i mean, you know,” dick began, shifting a little closer to you on the couch, his grin widening as he tilted his head, watching your reaction, “if you want me to join you in reading through this . . . i guess i could show you how to write a real nightwing fanfic.” his voice was light and teasing, but there was an unmistakable edge to his tone—suggestive, playful, with just enough of a challenge to make your cheeks warm. his eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in slightly, closing the space between you, the corners of his mouth quirking into a smirk. “maybe it’ll be . . . more accurate,” he added, his voice dropping a fraction lower, the words rolling off his tongue like a dare. there was something so undeniably dick grayson about the way he said it—effortlessly charming, but with a teasing bite that left your mind spinning.

you gave him a sideways look, raising an eyebrow as you grinned. “and what’s the plot for that one, mr. grayson?” you asked, amused by his suggestion.

“i don’t know . . . maybe i’m the ultimate love interest who saves gotham and his secret love from some terrible villain, only to get up hurt and you have to kiss it better.” his voice dropped into a mock-serious tone. “it’ll be perfect.”

you burst out laughing, unable to keep your composure at the thought of that kind of nightwing story.

the two of you spent the next several minutes reading through the stories together—dick teasing you for the over-the-top details and wild scenarios, while you kept showing him new stories that had him both amused and mildly flustered. eventually, the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the evening turning from playful banter into a warm, quiet togetherness. it was a rare moment of normalcy in the whirlwind life of a vigilante—and one dick cherished.

. . . JASON TODD !

JASON TODD WAS SPRAWLED ACROSS YOUR COUCH, HIS LONG FRAME TAKING UP MORE SPACE than seemed fair, boots kicked off and discarded in a lazy mess by the door. his socked feet, one crossed casually over the other, rested on the coffee table—much to your disapproval, though you’d given up pointing it out by now. the soft glow of the television flickered across his face, highlighting the sharp planes of his jaw as he absentmindedly flipped through channels before settling on an action movie he’d already half-forgotten. explosions and dramatic music filled the room, but his attention wasn’t really on the screen.

it kept drifting away, landing on you instead. you were curled up at the far end of the couch, legs tucked beneath you, and your phone clutched in your hands like it held the secrets of the universe. the light from the screen illuminated your features, catching the faint furrow of your brow as you scrolled. every so often, your expression shifted—a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips, a quiet snort that made his ears perk up, or the way your eyes lit up just before you let out an amused laugh.

jason couldn’t help but watch you.

he wasn’t the type to pry into your business, but the way you kept snickering under your breath was impossible to ignore. “alright,” he finally said, his voice cutting through the quiet, “what’s so funny over there?”

you glanced up, startled by the sudden question, your fingers pausing mid-scroll as if caught red-handed. for a moment, your face was blank, a deer in headlights, but then the corners of your mouth began to twitch, giving you away almost instantly. there was a mischievous glint in your eye, one that jason knew all too well—a sure sign you were up to something. “nothing,” you said in a pitched voice, as if the word alone could absolve you of whatever it was you were hiding. but the slight curve of your lips, the way you bit back an involuntary grin, made it clear that “nothing” was far from the truth.

your boyfriend gave you a pointed look, the kind he’d perfected over years of interrogating lowlifes and getting them to crack under pressure. it wasn’t harsh—jason wasn’t like that with you—but it carried enough weight to make even the most confident liar squirm. his head tilted slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a half-smirk that betrayed his amusement at your obvious reluctance. “uh-huh. sure, baby,” he said, his voice dripping with mock disbelief as he rested an arm on the back of the couch. “what are you reading?”

you hesitated for a second, weighing whether or not you should tell him. but then you shrugged, the grin on your face widening. why not? “curiosity got to me,” you admitted, holding up your phone. “i’m checking out your red hood fanfics.”

jason blinked, his head tilting slightly as if he hadn’t heard you right. “my what?”

“fanfiction,” you repeated, clearly enjoying his confusion. “you know, the stuff people write about you. well, about red hood. there’s a whole world of it out there. i just had to see it for myself.”

for a moment, jason just stared at you, his expression frozen in a mix of disbelief and sheer confusion. it was as if the words you’d just said refused to compute in his brain, the concept too absurd to fully grasp. his eyebrows furrowed slightly, a crease forming between them as he leaned back, clearly trying to piece it all together. “you mean to tell me,” he said slowly, his voice tinged with a cautious incredulity as he reached out to set the remote down on the coffee table with deliberate care, “that people are out there . . . writing stories about me?” the way he emphasized the word stories made it clear he was half expecting you to say you were joking. but the flicker of amusement in your eyes only deepened his bewilderment, and his lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say more but couldn’t quite find the words. his gaze flicked to your phone briefly, then back to you, like he was trying to decide whether to be flattered, annoyed, or just flat-out amused.

“not you, exactly. red hood.”

“i don’t know what’s more insane—that people are doing this or that you’re actually reading it.”

you bit your lip, clearly trying not to laugh again. “you’re this super suave, dark-and-mysterious antihero who sweeps women off their feet with your tragic backstory.”

he snorted. “tragic backstory? yeah, real original.”

jason shook his head, his laughter rumbling low in his chest as he reached over to you with that quick, calculated motion you were used to. his long fingers closed around your phone before you could react, plucking it right out of your hands. “alright, that’s enough internet for you,” holding it just out of your reach when you tried to grab it back, he had the audacity to laugh even more

“hey!” you protested. “i wasn’t done!”

“oh, you’re done,” he said, grinning as he tossed the phone onto the couch behind him. “because if i have to sit here and listen to one more fanfic version of me, i might actually lose my mind.”

you pouted, crossing your arms. “but it’s so entertaining!”

he smirked, leaning in closer until his face was just inches from yours. “you want entertainment?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “how about the real red hood shows you why fanfics don’t do me justice?”

. . . TIM DRAKE !

TIM SAT ACROSS THE ROOM, HIS LAPTOP OPEN IN FRONT OF HIM as he worked on a few cases, tapping away at the keyboard with his usual speed and precision. the hum of gotham’s nighttime ambience outside the window, mixed with the soft buzz of the bat-computer, was strangely calming. yet, despite his focused demeanor, something in his peripheral vision caught his attention.

you were sitting next to him on the couch, your attention seemingly consumed by your phone. the screen lit up your face in the dim light of the room, and occasionally, a quiet chuckle escaped your lips. tim furrowed his brows, trying to focus on his work, but the sound of your laughter distracted him again.

it wasn’t the kind of laugh that came from a joke shared between the two of you, but rather something more private—an inside joke between you and whatever was on your phone. tim glanced over, raising an eyebrow.

“what are you doing?” he asked casually, though he was genuinely curious, a little intrigued by what could possibly be so entertaining.

you looked over at him, a smirk creeping onto your face. “curiosity got to me,” you said nonchalantly, clearly enjoying the moment. “i’m checking out your red robin fanfics.”

tim’s fingers stilled on the keyboard, the words hitting him with an almost physical force. he blinked, not entirely sure he had heard you correctly. “what?”

“fanfiction,” you repeated, turning your phone so he could see the glowing screen. “it’s a whole thing. i got curious, and it turns out that there’s quite a bit of red robin fanfics out there.” you gave the boy a grin, clearly amused by your discovery.

his mind raced. fanfic? about him? his alter ego? the boy suddenly felt a mix of embarrassment, intrigue, and a strange sense of amusement. he’d never really considered that people might write about him outside of gotham’s criminal scene. of course, he was familiar with fan culture, having read a fair share of comics and stories himself, but the idea of himself as a character in someone else’s imagination was a completely different world altogether.

“i—i mean, i guess i never thought about it,” he stammered with his voice a little less composed than usual. “what exactly do they write about?”

you leaned back, glancing at the page for a moment before looking up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. “oh, you know. heroic rescues, dramatic fights, the usual stuff. but there are some . . . interesting spins.” your eyes sparkled as you watched him squirm slightly.

his face reddened just a touch. “interesting spins?” he repeated, his fingers subconsciously tapping against his thigh. “like what?”

“like you getting saved by batman.”

tim shook his head, his hands rubbing over his face as if trying to erase the image you’d just created in his mind. “okay, that’s . . . that’s a little too weird,” he muttered, half laughing at himself for even considering the possibilities. “i never thought i’d see the day when i was a fanfic character. did they get anything right?”

“actually,” you said, leaning in with mock seriousness, “some of it was kind of spot on. i mean, they really captured the whole brooding, self-deprecating vibe you’ve got going on.”

“i do not brood.”

“i beg to differ,” you shot back.

he glanced at you, a teasing smile still playing on his lips. “yeah, well, next time you want to get curious, just ask me. i’ll tell you all the ‘heroic rescues’ you need to know, no fanfic required.”

you laughed again, leaning against him, the warmth between you both more comforting than ever. tim’s nerves had been stretched thin when you first brought up the fanfiction, but now? now, he was just grateful that the conversation had turned into something lighter, a moment of genuine connection between the two of you. as you both sat there, laughing and joking about what ridiculous scenarios you’d found online, tim couldn’t help but feel a little proud. he might not have expected to find his alter ego splashed across the pages of a fanfiction site, but in a strange way, he was glad it was a part of the world people cared about. it made him feel, for once, like he wasn’t just a vigilante—he was someone worth writing about, someone worth being remembered. even if that meant a few ridiculous, outlandish stories in the process.

[smileysuh]

fuck your ex - TEASER

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol & Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Cuddles don’t hurt either,” Mingyu muses, pulling you to his chest. “If we get to your bedroom and you decide you just want someone to be with, I’m not going to pressure you. I know I said the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but, skin to skin contact - even if it’s not sexual - can be an amazing way to get over an ex too.”

tw/cw. Protected sex, unprotected sex, pussy eating, fingering, hand job, dry humping, grinding, foreplay, threesome, bathroom sex, using a shower head as a vibrator, multiple sex scenes, multiple reader orgasms, slight cum kink, Cheol cum’s on reader’s chest, size kink, dirty talk, praise, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.3k 

🍭 aus. Non idol au, cop au, poly au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know cops are a touchy subject, but I've had this idea for months, and I figured it's fan fiction so hopefully it's just a fun au :)

“Anyways, I bet you’re wondering about the conditions that make threesomes work,” Seungcheol sighs, returning to the topic at hand.

“I’ll admit, I’m curious. When you and Mingyu gave me your numbers, you did say I could have both of you if I wanted.”

“You still can, but I wouldn’t be shocked if you wanted to stick it with Mingyu. It wouldn’t offend me. He’s better with girls than I am.” You love how direct Seungcheol is about this, and it shows a good sense of self for him to be able to admit he’s not as much of a lady killer as his friend.

“Why do you think he’s better with girls?” you inquire.

“Most girls like that whole puppy dog thing. He’s a giver, and I respect that.”

“And you’re not a giver?” you toy, cocking a brow.

“More of a taker really,” Seungcheol admits, flashing you a grin. “If you’re interested in that sort of thing.”

“Honestly?” You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the booth. “That might be just what I need right now.”

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[spencerreidenjoyer]

welcome home | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2.2k, rating: 18+/explicit

warning/tags: smut and fluff, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, munch!spencer reid, established relationship

a/n: hello! this is my first spencer/criminal minds fic and am new to posting fic to tumblr!! i wrote this in 2 hours in a frenzy lol. please let me know if u like this, enjoy!

You wake when the bedroom door creaks open. Spencer’s been meaning to get it fixed, but he’s been away so often recently.

A dark figure in the doorway startles you as you blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness, and you reach for your phone as you sit up but a familiar voice soothes any of your anxieties.

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you answer, even though Spencer coming in most definitely woke you up. “Hey. Welcome home.”

Spencer walks over to your side of the bed, turning the lamp on the bedside table on. The gentle, yellow glow fills the room. You see how sweetly Spencer is looking at you. You smile up at him, and Spencer leans in to kiss you. He tastes like coffee.

“Told you not to drink coffee so late,” you chastise playfully. “You always have trouble falling asleep when you do.”

“Emily made me a cup on our way back from New York, I couldn’t say no,” Spencer shrugs, smiling. 

You shake your head, pulling the knot of his tie loose. 

“Go take a shower before you come to bed, baby,” you say, patting his cheek. “I’ve been missing cuddling my boyfriend to sleep.”

“Don’t wait up. Get some more rest, Y/N,” Spencer hums, before he turns around and enters the bathroom. 

You can’t fall back asleep, not just yet. You decide to scroll mindlessly on your phone while the sound of the shower running provides some ambient noise. You hear Spencer’s not-so-in-tune humming over the water, and it makes you smile to yourself.

Spencer always scolds you for taking too long in the shower. Says it’s a waste of water. You often suggest you should shower together, leaving Spencer a bumbling, red-faced mess. It’s cute. 

It doesn’t take long for him to step out of the shower, towel-drying his hair. You turn to face him to make a cheeky comment, but all you see is a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping down his torso, tanned skin still wet. Your lips parted still, you look up and meet his eyes. Spencer quirks an eyebrow, curious. 

You swallow, attempting to make a smooth comeback. “Couldn’t have towelled yourself off in there?”

Spencer chuckles, “Didn’t bring a change of clothes in. Thought I might as well change out here.”

You feel your cheeks heat, but you muster up some confidence to say, “Forget the clothes.”

“What?” Spencer asks. You can only focus on the veins in his forearms, the bob of his Adam’s apple. 

“I said forget the clothes. Come here,” you repeat, and Spencer’s eyes widen. He approaches you, almost nervous, as if you haven’t been dating for a year. Awkwardly, he stands by the bed, and you pull him down towards you with the towel he’s left slung around his shoulders. He catches himself, hands planted next to either side of your head. His hair, still damp, falls into his face. He looks so handsome like this. You lean up to kiss him.

Spencer makes a surprised little noise, before his hand moves to cup your face as he kisses you. He kneels on the mattress for support so his other hand can trace your body, feeling you up as you are with him, hands reaching for his biceps, his lithe body, his toned stomach. 

You feel breathless as you whisper, “I missed you, Spencer.”

“I missed you too,” Spencer exhales, eyes gentle and warm as he looks down at you. 

“Kiss me some more,” you coax. 

Spencer grins. “Gladly.”

Spencer kisses you, desperation in every move he makes. You run your hand through his hair. Messy as it air-dries, but that’s just another thing you like about him. You feel him slide his hand up your sleep shirt – well, it’s his shirt, but he no longer says anything about you stealing his clothes – and it sends a shudder down your spine. His hand is calloused, rough, but touches you with a sweet gentleness that makes you swoon. His hand reaches your breast, cups it, squeezes like he needs to get his fill. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, as you run your hand down his body, reaching where his towel is tucked in so that it stays up. Your hand nudges his hardening cock, and you smile. “Someone’s already hot and bothered, huh?”

Spencer shakes his head, chuckling. “As if you didn’t start this.”

“Oh, come on, baby,” you coo. “I think it’s cute. You want me so bad.”

“I do,” He answers rather earnestly. “I’ve been gone for the better part of this week. Of course I want you.”

“And I’ll give it to you,” you answer, undoing the towel and letting it fall around Spencer’s knees. Your hand wraps around Spencer, and he moans at the contact, at the pressure. 

“Shit,” Spencer groans, head falling forward as he loses himself in the pleasure of your hand. His brows are furrowed slightly but he’s leaking, and you just want him inside you already. You kiss his cheek, and he turns his head to meet your lips instead. His lips are soft, a little chapped, but Spencer’s never been diligent with the lip balm you gave him. You’ll kiss him regardless, chapped lips and all. 

“I want you, Spencer,” you sigh. “Please.”

“I know,” Spencer says, and he reaches for your lower half. “How- How did I not realise you weren’t wearing shorts?”

You smirk, only hiding your fluster when you take off your shirt and toss it onto the floor. “Oh, Mr. Respectful Boyfriend over here doesn’t realise his girlfriend is half-naked. Shocker.”

“Hey, I am respectful!” Spencer retaliates, while trying very hard not to ogle your tits, which you promptly counter by squeezing his cock. He squeaks. You laugh, as he apologises and moves to dip his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. He looks at you. 

“Take them off already, Spencer,” you say. He does, pulling your underwear off with a reverence he’s always given you when you’re in bed together. You lift your hips so he can slide them off. You expect Spencer to come back up, but he instead slides in between your spread legs. 

His hand is gentle on your thigh, and his thumb rubs at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You feel his breath on you, his face lowering towards your heat but his eyes solely meeting yours. “Let me take care of you.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling breathless already. “I thought- I thought I was supposed to make you feel good, since you missed me.”

“You do make me feel good. Even like this.” Spencer says, matter-of-factly. “Especially like this.”

“It’s hot that you like getting me off,” you say. You can’t help the smile that forms on your face, as Spencer buries his face between your legs. 

You feel the little bit of stubble on Spencer’s chin rubbing at your thighs, and his insistent tongue that slowly coaxes you open. It’s wet and slick and you feel so good, as his tongue circles your clit. The way he’s eating you out is like a man starved, as he holds your legs apart, drinking from you like he’s running out of water. The pleasure makes your head spin, makes your toes curl, as adrenaline drums in your veins and makes the tips of your fingers (that are buried in Spencer’s hair) tingle. You hold him down against you, as if you want him impossibly closer, as if the pleasure he’s giving you will increase tenfold if you do. You feel him moan against you, the vibrations only making you feel better. 

“Spencer,” you exhale shakily, “You need to fuck me, right now.”

He pulls away slightly, and you expect the loss of warmth all at once, but Spencer’s slipped the tips of two fingers into you, and he fills you up just like that alongside his tongue. He spreads them to scissor you open, tongue slid in between them perfectly. You cry out as he fucks you with his stupidly long fingers, feeling crazy good when he hits the spots deep inside you that you can only reach on a good day. 

You writhe on the bed, the bed you share, and Spencer finally comes up for air. “That’s totally what you meant, right?”

You glare at Spencer. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You won’t,” Spencer says with a smirk. He pulls his fingers out of you, sits back up so he’s kneeling between your legs. You watch Spencer wrap his fingers around himself, sticky with your slick, as he works himself up. Playfully, he mocks, “You want me so bad.”

You gasp as he presses the tip of his cock to your hole, wet and sticky and leaking from the number Spencer’s already done on you. He’s sweet as he presses inside, doesn’t tease but instead gives you exactly what you want.

Spencer feels like he was made for you, fitting inside you perfectly. You sigh as he presses into you, all the way to the hilt. When you look up at him, it’s like he can barely keep it together. His face is scrunched up and a little flushed, and you just want to kiss him. 

You reach up to pull him closer by the nape of his neck. He can clearly tell what you plan to do, so he says, “I taste like you.”

You smile up lazily at him. “I know. I think that’s really fucking hot.”

He leans in to kiss you, full of heat, but he’s still extremely sweet about it. His chin is sticky, but you couldn’t care less. He holds you so softly, but wherever his hands touch your skin – your stomach, your thighs, your face – it feels so hot, burning with his desire.

You clench around him on purpose when he breaks away from kissing you, and he curses under his breath. “Jesus Christ. The things you do to me.”

“Yeah?” You grin. “Show me.”

Spencer pulls out before rocking his hips, pushing himself into you, and you moan. His rhythm has gotten better since you and Spencer started sleeping together, better at keeping his pace even and steady to get you to your orgasm. He used to be a bumbling (but adorable) mess, close to virginal and would blow his load just after a few minutes. You like to think you helped him improve, but you definitely don’t want to see him use these skills with anyone else. 

He holds your leg up, allowing him to fuck you even deeper. You feel every inch of Spencer inside of you, as he slides in and out, repeat. He’s learned well, just how to fuck you. Being a genius definitely has its perks, with him learning so quickly, knowing exactly what makes you tick.

His other hand reaches down to toy with your clit, and you shudder. “Spencer… Feels so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds, sounding delighted to hear your glowing review. “Are you gonna…”

“I’m close,” you sigh. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck,” Spencer curses, seemingly out of nowhere, but you know by now that it turns him on like crazy. His need for praise always had you curious, and using it in bed just makes you feel all the more powerful. He clears his throat, continuing, “You’re- So tight, so warm. You feel really good.”

Spencer’s been trying to… talk more, during sex, knowing how much you like it. He’s remembered the way you talk to him when you’re sleeping together, and he’s done well parroting it back to you. It’s hot, how eager he is to please. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” you say, breathless. “Make me cum, Spencer.”

He leans in to press his lips to yours again, driving his hips into you at a punishing pace, and you’re gushing as he flicks at your clit in all the right ways. You moan as your orgasm washes over you, electrifies you, till every bone in your body feels like jelly. He lets out a whimper as his hips stutter, emptying inside of you. His warmth floods into you, and you feel a strange sense of pride with it. 

“Ugh, you’re so hot,” you groan, while Spencer presses one last kiss to your cheek before he slumps down on top of you. “And heavy.”

“I love you,” Spencer says, awfully serious. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me, Spencer?” You chuckle. Spencer lifts his head to look at you. You stroke his cheek gently. 

“For letting me make you feel good, I suppose,” Spencer says. “Orgasms are often good for stress relief.”

“For me or for you?” You grin. 

“Both of us?” Spencer suggests. You nod in agreement. 

You sit in the comfortable silence between you and Spencer as you cuddle with him on top of you, only feeling sticky once the post-orgasm high has worn off. “So, wanna shower together?”

“Oh my God,” Spencer squeaks, sounding positively scandalised.

You laugh. “Oh, please. As if you didn’t cum inside of me just minutes ago.”

Spencer makes a comically distressed noise. “Well, when you put it like that!”

He gets up off of you, like he’s afraid of offending you, but you just take his hand as you stand up. You see the way his eyes rake over your naked body. It feels good. You kiss the top of his hand and smile at him. “Nothing to be scared of, Spencer. Come on.”

[thelostconsultant]

A new player

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Now that he secured the title, you feel like the flight leaving Vegas might be your best chance at telling Max a little secret.

note: Just a short thing. Inspired by that recent 911 scene.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. Now that we have Donatello, Sassy and I are outnumbered by you boys,” you note.

For the first time since you took off, Max puts down the can of Red Bull he’s been holding onto and gives you a curious look. He’s still hungover, so it takes him a minute to register what you’re referring to. “You want another cat?”

Shaking your head with a sigh, you flash a smile at him. “I wasn’t thinking about a cat, actually.” 

You can spot the confusion in his blue eyes as he’s trying to figure out what you mean, but you give him time, hoping he would figure it out on his own. Minutes pass, yet he doesn’t seem to get closer to the answer. “A dog? You want one like Leo, don’t you?” He’s laughing, and you join in while you roll your eyes at him. And then the laughter dies and his face turns serious all of a sudden. “Oh. You mean, you want a child?” You nod, the smile on your lips tighter than you wish it was. “Well… I… I mean… that would be great.”

“Are you sure?” you ask just to double check. 

With a smile, Max reaches out for your hand. “Yes. I’m sure. And you’re already pregnant, aren’t you?” he asks, his eyes shining from the sudden wave of excitement. When you nod once again, he suddenly moves to hug you, then leans back just enough to kiss you. “And I thought last night will be the best for a while,” he mumbles against your lips. “And what if it will be a boy? Then you’ll still be outnumbered. You wanna try again and again until–”

You playfully hit his arm and push him back into his seat. “I asked my doc to do a test to see if there are any genetic issues, and it also happened to tell us the baby’s gender. It’s a girl.”

For long seconds he’s only sitting there, his eyes watching you intently, and for a moment you can’t decide if he’s happy or not. You know he’s happy about the child, but what if he would prefer a boy? You’re suddenly feeling anxious, and he can probably see it on your face, because not three seconds after you tear your gaze away from him, he returns to kiss you again. “I’m happy either way. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, I’ll be the best father I can be, okay?” he asks with a warm smile. 

After a gulp, you nod. You’ve been hiding this from him for a week or so, but maybe it was worth the wait. Now that he won the title, his focus can shift a little.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Yes. No. I Don't Know.

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: Use of the word 'dick', that's about it.

Tiniest bit of angst, he's just kinda cold, but mostly fluff

You couldn’t sleep. Try as you might, you could not fall asleep. It was nearly midnight already and you had to be up early for school. You decided to sneak up to the Astronomy Tower, figuring maybe the night air and watching the stars might make you tired enough to fall asleep. So you threw off your comforter and wrapped a jacket around you, sneaking out of your dorm and up to the tower. No one caught you and you ascended the stairs.

Much to your surprise, there was the school’s well known asshole, Mattheo Riddle, smoking on the balcony. It was hit or miss with you and him. Some days he was okay, at least, not insulting you. Other days, he wasn’t the most pleasant to be around. Either way, you always felt somewhat drawn into those beautiful brown eyes. Even on the days you wanted to snap back at him. He did seem to try to reign in his anger and attitude with you compared to everyone else you’ve seen him with. So you didn’t want to ruin it by yelling at him when he was a dick.

He turned his head to look at you, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette. You could see fresh, new cuts and bruises on his face and knuckles. He got into a fight today.

“What are you doing up here?” He asked and you realized you hadn’t even said anything to him for a few seconds, just staring at him.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You answered and stepped up onto the balcony with him.

“So you came trotting up to the Astronomy Tower at what? Midnight?” He asked before taking a drag off of his cigarette.

“Figured I could come watch the stars for just a little bit. I thought maybe getting out would help tire me a little more so I can fall asleep once I get back to my dorm.” You said, turning to lean back against the railing as you looked at the stars.

“That’s stupid. And dangerous. What if there was someone here that would have hurt you?” He said, taking on a slightly annoyed tone.

“I have my wand. I’m not an idiot.” You said, looking back at him.

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the railing with you. “Still stupid.”

“Why do you care?” You asked, giving him a confused look.

“I don’t. I’m telling you it’s stupid. It’s like you don’t care about your safety.” He said as he looked back at you.

“I still don’t see why you care.” You said. “It’s not like you even like me at all.”

“Fine, forget it then. Do what you want.” He said, looking up at the stars as he took another drag of his cigarette. This gave you a perfect chance to look at his injuries.

“Another fight?” You asked, putting your hands in your jacket pockets.

“Possibly.” He said, exhaling the smoke.

“What caused it this time?” You asked before looking at the stars with him.

“Does it matter?”

“I’m curious.”

“Some guys were making disgusting comments about a girl. Wouldn’t stop when I told them to shut their mouths so I shut it for them.” He said, still looking at the stars, but he shifted slightly like he was uncomfortable.

“You stepped in to stand up for a girl?” You asked and looked back at him.

“Shut up.” He said, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“You like this girl?”

He exhaled the cigarette smoke before answering. “Does that matter?”

“You know my answer already.”

He sighed. “Yes.” He said simply before putting out his cigarette on the railing and flicking it over the edge.

“Wow, Mattheo Riddle has a crush.” You smile at him.

“Oh, shut up.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Who is it?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He said, looking down at his shoes as he shifted again.

“Oh, come on. This girl has to be special to catch your attention.” You said, still smiling at him.

He rolled his eyes again and turned his head away from you. “I said ‘It doesn’t matter.’”

“I thought we were friends, Matty.” You joked.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” He said as he looked back at you.

“Just tell me who it is and I’ll stop.” You said with a sweet little smile.

He sighed again, looking up at the stars.

“You’re no fun.” You teased as you noticed he isn’t giving in, looking up at the stars with him again.

He stayed quiet for a moment before looking back at you, noticing your slight shiver. He looked away before taking off his hoodie and offering it to you. You looked at the hoodie confused for a moment before he rolled his eyes once again. “You’re shivering, put it on.”

“I’m not shivering.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I have a jacket already.”

“That’s the thinnest jacket I’ve ever seen.” And he was right, annoyingly.

“But you’ll be cold.”

“Put the damn hoodie on.” He said with a frustrated tone.

“Merlin, okay.” You said, taking the hoodie from him. You took off your jacket and put on his hoodie. It was so warm. And smelled like his cologne.

He leaned back against the railing as he looked at the stars again, not saying anything.

“Thank you.” You said softly.

“Yeah.” Was all he said. But that was the first time he replied to any of the times you’ve said ‘thank you.’ You smiled slightly, but didn’t say anything about it. There was a small moment of silence between you two as you watched the stars.

“Can I get one hint about the girl?” You finally asked.

“Are you serious?” He looked at you and you looked at him.

“Come on. I wanna know. I won't tell anyone.” You said.

“Why can't you leave it?” He asked, annoyed.

“Please, Matty.” You said, trying to use your puppy eyes on him.

He clicked his tongue. “Can you stop calling me that?”

“Just tell me and I'll stop.”

“You're so annoying.” He said, sighing again.

“Yet you never do anything about it.” You smile slightly.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“What you normally do with everyone else and ignore them or leave or yell or something.” You said and he narrowed his eyes slightly.

“So you think I enjoy your annoying comments or something?”

“I didn't say that. But I think you do.” You smiled.

He rolled his eyes again, looking at the ground.

“Aw, you do actually like me.” You teased him.

“Shut up.” It was the third time he said this tonight, but it was the first time he blushed, even if it was extremely faint, almost wouldn't have been noticeable if you weren't staring at him already.

“Just tell me who the girl is.” You said, now leaning on him slightly to push him further.

“Why does it matter?” He asked, a bit harshly as he looked back at you.

“I just wanna know who captured your little heart.” You said with a sweet smile.

“You sure it's not because you have a crush on me?” He said sarcastically, but that made you nervous. It's not like you knew your own feelings yourself. You always felt drawn to him. You always liked being near him. Even when he did frustrate you. But he did frustrate you a lot. And he was always cold. And he pushed you away a lot. You didn't even notice your own hesitation until Mattheo raised his eyebrows. It made your face heat up. “Do you?”

Yes. “No!” I don't know. You straightened up so you weren't leaning on him anymore.

“Why'd you hesitate?” He asked, now turning his body towards you.

“I didn't.” You said, turning to him now too and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Bullshit.”

“I'm not lying.”

“(Y/N).” He said, taking a step forward so he was directly in front of you, almost touching you.

“Matty.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Why?”

He paused, letting out a heavy exhale through his nose before rolling his eyes and moving away from you, turning away.

“Why?” You repeat, moving with him, even though he only moved a few feet.

“It doesn't matter.” He said before turning back to you. “Just stop it.”

“No.” You said. You both were directly in front of each other again. “Matty, Matty, Matty, Matty, Matty-”

He cut you off with a kiss, his hands on your cheeks. You froze for a moment before kissing back, moving your hands to grip at his shirt. He pulled back after a moment, but it still felt too short. You both stared at each other for a moment, neither letting go of the other.

“What was that for?” You asked.

“It was just to shut you up.”

“You're still holding me, though.” You pointed out.

“Yeah.” Was all he said as he kept staring at you, his eyes going all over your face; your eyes, your lips, your nose, anything and everything on your face.

“I lied. It wasn't a ‘no.’” You said as you did the same, looking all over his face too. It was the first time you were this close. But that kiss definitely made you realize your feelings.

He kept looking over your face for a moment before looking in your eyes and replying. “It was you. The girl. The one I like.”

You both stayed like that for another moment as you processed everything. He leaned down and kissed you again, much softer this time. It only lasted a moment, but this time it wasn't as hard when he pulled away, knowing that there were more of those kisses in the future.

“I like you, way more than I ever thought I would.” He admitted, still holding your face. “You can be annoying, but I like it. You're always so nice to me, even when I can be a dick and I love that and always feel so bad about it. But you don't understand how much that lifts my mood. And I love it when you call me ‘Matty.’”

“I knew you liked it.” You smiled.

“Shut up.” He said and kissed you again.

Let me know if I should make this into a long series rather than just this short one shot!

[rafesfavgirl]

her lips on your neck — j. maybank

meant to have this up last night, but i got fucked up lolz

❝ since you admitted it, i keep picturing her lips on your neck, i can't unsee it ❞

pairing: cheater!jj x fem!reader

context: late at night, you get back to the obx from a week-long trip to new york with your parents and decide to surprise your boyfriend and best friends.

words: 1.4k+

warnings: cheating (i don't condone it!!), might break you, no happy ending, ANGST ANGST ANGST

"what the fuck are we suppose to tell y/n?" you hear pope mention your name, as he sat with john b in the enclosed back porch of the chateau and immediately stop yourself from joining them, curious as to what else they had to say.

"dude, i don't know," john b shrugged at him, the expression on his face looking as if he was torn between some hard decision.

what could they possibly be talking about?

"i mean, it's not like they meant for it to happen, right?" john b continued, sounding like he was trying to convince himself of something.

"do you really think she'll see it that way?" pope asks him. "jj just slept with kie."

john b winces at pope's words like they were too hard for him to hear and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, your eyes becoming blurry with tears as anger starts coursing through your veins.

"we gotta tell her," pope adds.

they didn't even hear that you'd entered the porch, now only standing a few feet away from them.

"you just did." the sound of your voice causes them to snap their heads towards you, both of them now completely at a loss for words. "is jj here?" you speak slowly to stop your voice from shaking.

when neither of them reply and just exchange glances, you repeat yourself. "where's. jj."

"y/n…" john b starts to stand from his seat, but you don't let him finish or get any closer, before you're barging into the chateau.

you feel your body shake as jj comes out of one of the rooms chuckling and pulling his muscle tank down.

"you didn't," you shake your head as he looks at you.

"y/n…"

when kiara comes out of the same room and steps up behind him, you get your answer.

"you did," you say, your eyes shifting from kie to jj.

"babe, i-" jj begins, taking a step towards you.

"no," you immediately cut him off and hold a hand out in front of you to stop him from getting any closer. “we’re done.”

that was two weeks ago. you hadn’t seen jj, or your friends since then, actively trying to avoid them as much as possible. that didn’t stop them from texting though.

john b and pope have checked in every now and then to make sure you’re doing okay, while kie and jj blow your phone up 24/7 with empty apologies.

j<3: i’m outside. please let me explain.

you stare at the text on your phone for a second and hop to your feet to peek out the window, where surely enough, you saw jj perched against his bike on the curb of your front lawn, waiting.

letting out a deep sigh and against your better judgment, you walk towards the front door and open it, only to find that he had walked up your front porch and was about to knock.

“hey…” his voice is small, and his baby blue eyes light up at the sight of you, making your heart ache.

by the prominent eye bags under them, you could tell he hadn’t gotten much sleep either. but wasn’t that how it should have been? he was the one who cheated on you.

you don’t say a word and just turn to walk further into your living room, jj following after you and shutting the door.

“i know you don’t owe me anything,” he continues, as you turn to look at him again, your arms crossed across your chest.

“you’re right, i don’t,” you say, trying to be cold.

it was hard, though. there was a piece of your heart that still yearned for him. a piece that you had a feeling would love him forever. no matter how badly he’s just screwed you over.

“why’d you do it?” you ask.

“i don’t know,” he shrugs. “i don’t know why i did it. we were drinking… and talking… you weren’t here, and i- i guess we just…”

“what?” you feel your hand start to shake as he tried to come up with an excuse. “got caught up in the moment?”

“y- yeah…” he glances down, and you scoff.

“god, i am such an idiot!” you run your hands through your hair and take a seat on the armchair behind you.

“y/n that’s not…” he slowly approaches you while you shake your head at him.

“i should’ve known,” you say. “it was her before me.”

jj shakes his head as he closes the distance between the two of you and crouches down in front of you, a hand landing on your knee. “baby, that’s not true.”

you glance at his hand on your knee before looking at him again. “but it is.”

“look, i fucked up, okay?” he said, his tone desperate now. “i know that. but please… please believe me when i tell you that it was a mistake. and it’s never going to happen again.”

“how can i believe that?” you ask, tears threatening to brim along your lower lashes. 

“just trust me,” he tells you.

a bitter scoff falls from your lips as you stand up and cross the room, half angry and half confused, not knowing what to think or believe.

“i did trust you, j!” you say, turning to look at him again with tears in your eyes as he gets up from his crouching position and faces you. “and you screwed me over anyway.”

“y/n…” he walks towards you, and you feel your weight shift to one foot, your body feeling a little limp. 

there was a part of you that still loved him—feelings don’t disappear just like that—but you knew you deserved better. that there was someone out there who wouldn’t even think about doing what he did.

"i love you…" he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and push your hair back, your first instinct causing you to lean into his touch, a sad smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you lock your eyes with his. "pretty girl." he closes the distance between you two, his forehead resting against yours, a tear trailing down your cheek as you closed your eyes. "i am so so so sorry. i promise— i promise, i won't ever hurt you again."

you wanted nothing more than to believe him. to forgive him. to forget. but you knew, deep down, that wasn't possible.

you shake you hear against his, sniffling. "j, i can't…"

"no, no, no," he replied. "you can. you— you have to, i can't-" he tilts his chin upwards to kiss you, and though you want desperately to let him, you push him away.

"no, jj!" you shout. "you— you can't just kiss me and think it's all gonna go away!"

"okay, okay, i'm not," he backs off a little, and then takes your hands in his, baby blues pleading. "but you need to forgive me. i could never live with myself if you didn't. i— i can't go on without you… without…" he brings your hands together and clasps his hands around them as he brings them up to his lips to kiss them softly. "your touch…" he moves a hand towards your cheek again, caressing it just like last time. "your smile…" he trails it across your collar bone and down your arm to place it on your chest. "your love… god, y/n i’ve never been loved by anyone like you."

his face falls limp against you and he drops to his knees, arms immediately locking around your hips as he rests the side of his head against you.

"please… please forgive me," his voice sounds desperate now, breaking your heart even more.

"i— i can't…" you wrap your hands around his arms and try to pull him off you, but it doesn't work—he just clutches onto you tighter. "you're just not the same person to me anymore…" you shake your head. "the jj i fell for would've never ever done anything to hurt me, but now…" you bring your hands up to your head, trying to keep it together. "god! every time i look at you… all i see is her and what you did… i— i just keep picturing you guys together and-"

"and we can fix that," jj pulls away and gets back on his feet to look at you. "i mean, it's gon' take time, but eventually… you— you can forget it, right?"

there was a hopeful look in his eyes, but you knew that wasn't enough to fix things.

you shake your head and sigh, the hope in his eyes immediately diminishing. "no, i don't think i can."

"but that— that would mean that this…" his voice cracks, his mind clearly in disarray as he motions a hand between you two. "no. this can't be over."

your watery eyes lock with his, which were now red from holding back tears. "then why is it?"

if you happen to also be a rafe girl, consider this part 2 & part 3.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 2 ] || [ Chapter 4 ]

Pairing: Ghost x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ cw: some sexual jokes/innuendos Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 3: Simon

After doing the dishes, you moved yourself over to the living room and turned on the TV. Some rerun of an older season of Law and Order was playing.

You started watching but you found your eyes drifting back to your phone… 

Against your better judgement, you clicked on the Tinder app icon again. Maybe, maybe you should swipe just a little more.

And so you did. 

Today you said ‘Fuck you, Beyoncé’ and always went to the Right, to the Right. 

Just as you were pondering another profile, the screen darkened with a ‘It’s a Match!’ notification, making you jump a bit, as usual.

You clicked the profile and your brow scrunched. 

You didn’t remember liking this one… Though you obviously did, after all, you were liking everyone.

The only picture wasn’t even anything. It was dark and grainy and the man was wearing a black disposable face mask. If that even was him. Could just be a random picture off-Google, picked by someone who wanted to be anonymous. Not quite a catfish but close enough…

“Simon.” You said softly and dragged your finger through the screen to read his bio. For a moment you couldn’t help but smirk a little. He was sarcastic, a bit strange, but charismatic in his own way.

“Bad jokes, Bourbon, Discreet…” You mused while scanning his profile. “Tall enough.” You read aloud and couldn’t help but laugh at it. That made you feel like he was short.

Against your better judgement for the second time, you decided to send him a DM instead of waiting for him to. Something told you he wouldn’t.

you: tall enough - does that mean you’re below 6ft?

Simon: No.

Simon: Means that I have inches to spare.

you: was that a dick joke?

Simon: No.

Simon: Unless you wanted it to be.

You snorted softly under your breath. Of course he was a smart ass too…

you: ambiguous, i like it.

you: so how tall are you then?

Simon: Does it matter?

you: no. just curious.

Simon: 6ft4.

you: that feels like a lie.

Simon: I avoided putting it for a reason.

you: worried people would call you a liar?

Simon: No use. Going to be called it regardless.

you: that’s fair ig.

you: what’s a traveling consultant?

Simon: Similar to a contractor. Get brought in to help businesses all over the world.

you: what kind of businesses?

Simon: That’s need-to-know.

you: you type so formally and professionally jeez.

you: will i ever get to know?

Simon: Force of habit. Don’t text a lot.

Simon: Not if I can help it.

you: somehow i can tell.

you: what are you doing here then?

Simon: Curiosity mostly.

you: trying to see if you attract any fish? 👀

Simon: Something like that. A friend is on here. Wanted to see what all the fuss is about.

you: i see.

you: got anything yet?

Simon: No. But only created this 12 minutes ago.

you: am i your first then?

Simon: Not my first in anything, love.

Your eyes widened a bit and for some reason you found yourself getting a bit flustered, your face warming up just a bit.

you: does that mean you’ve hooked up with people through a dating app before?

Simon: Something of the sorts.

you: aw, im really not going to be your first.

Simon: That’s alright. You can come see me either way.

Simon: I’m sure you’ll find some other thing to be the first at.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you started sputtering. That came out of left field! He had gone from professional and mild-mannered to… flirty so quickly! Gulping, you tried to answer him with something coherent and funny.

you: idk what if you murder me?

Simon: I promise I won’t.

you: is that meant to be enough to convince me? 🤨

Simon: I’ll leave all my guns at home.

you: the fact you have more than one is not reassuring the way you think it is.

Simon: If it makes it any better, I wouldn’t need a gun to kill you.

Even though you don’t know this man, you can imagine that he’s laughing to himself behind his phone screen, all smug, thinking he’s funny. And, the worst part, is that he is.

you: reassuring. thanks.

Simon: Glad to be of service.

you: i think what makes it worse is that uve not got a pic of ur face.

Simon: Wouldn’t hook up with a bloke with his face covered?

you: no? are u trying to get me axe murdered? bc thats how u get axe murdered simon

Simon: LOL.

Simon: No.

you: u sure? a masked face with a mysterious job and a suspicious amount of guns… sounds like the upgraded version of ghostface… except online rather than over the phone.

Simon: I’ll take that as a compliment.

Simon: You’re funny. 

Simon: I like that.

you: thanks. 

Simon: Wondering if you’re that funny in real life or if you’d get all shy on me.

you: probably a mix of both.

Simon: How about we confirm that then? 

Simon: Meet up with me for drinks. No pressure on time or place. You can even postpone if it comes down to it. My job is unpredictable enough so I might have to postpone too.

Your eyes widened. The first attempt at flirting from him, of inviting you for a shag, had been clearly sarcastic… But this one is genuine.

you: ill get back to u on that, is that okay?

Simon: No sweat.

Simon: And if you’re just being polite and not actually going to text me again then: This was fun. Enjoyed myself. Take care.

You bit your lip to suppress a smile when you saw his polite goodbye. He was… sweet, weirdly enough.

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

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

[obsessedwhyyes]

The Learned Observer

Fic Request: Voyeurism

Summary: On a sleepless night, Gale notices the distinct sound of hushed voices outside his tent. It couldn't be you and Astarion… could it? When he decides to take a peek - to satisfy his scholarly curiosity, of course - he gets more than he bargained for.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2623 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader, implied Astarion x Gale x Fem!Reader Content: Gale's POV (first person), voyeurism, dry humping, handjob, public sex, male masturbation, a little bit of jealousy.

A/N: Gale, in my humble opinion, would not use the word, “cock.” I cannot express how hard it was to not use the word, "cock" in a smut fic. I frigging love that word. Anyways, writing entirely in Gale’s voice was honestly the most fun mini challenge I’ve set myself so far, and I would gladly do first person BG3 companion POVs again. Thank you, dear anon, for the request!

Another sleepless night.

The orb pulses beneath my skin, each throb a reminder of my predicament.

I implore my mind to wander to the events of our journey, to the challenges that lie ahead, in pursuit of a worthwhile distraction. But the orb’s hunger grows stronger, like a raging maelstrom, each tribute to its insistent pull a mere ripple against the tide of its endless consumption. Perhaps I should consult the others about–

… Voices drift from outside my tent before I can finish my thoughts. Curious.

Hushed laughter and whispered words. Astarion's distinctive timbre and… you.

The sound is soft, subtle - a quiet exchange. Yet, here I am, catching fragments of something private, something perhaps not intended for outside ears.

I shift, the faintest spark of curiosity pulling me from my solitude. It's innocent, surely - a late-night conversation, perhaps a shared joke. And yet, as the moments pass, I can't ignore the intimacy in your laughter, the way Astarion's voice drops to that silken murmur he reserves for his attempts at enticement.

Just a glance, I tell myself. Merely to understand what could be so amusing at this hour.

Slowly, carefully, I draw back a sliver of canvas, just enough to peek through.

My breath catches as my eyes adjust to the firelight outside. There, on the other side of the campfire, resting against a fallen log, you sit beside him, close - very close - your faces inches apart.

Your legs are entwined, and there’s an intensity in the way you look at each other. I’m taken aback by the hunger in the kiss that follows - one neither timid nor restrained. Your hands begin to explore each other with what I can only call fervour - the kind of urgency I hadn't known either of you possessed, let alone with each other. 

The way you move together speaks of raw desire rather than tender affection - this is clearly a new physical relationship.

When did this start? How did I miss the signs? Though perhaps I was too caught up in my own concerns to notice the lingering glances, the way you always seemed to find reasons to be near each other…

I tell myself it’s simple curiosity that keeps me here, observing. A certain academic interest, if you will. After all, Astarion has always been something of a hedonist - a man who indulges in his desires with a recklessness I sometimes envy, though rarely approve. But to see him like this - in action, as it were - offers a unique perspective on his character.

You murmur something I cannot make out, a teasing lilt in your voice, and Astarion laughs in that rakish, honeyed tone of his, as though thrilled to have you so wholly entranced. His hands grip your waist, and with a practised grace, he pulls you into his lap, the hem of your skirt spilling around you both. As his hands settle on your hips, you grind against what I can only assume to be a prominent hardness in his trousers, judging by the satisfied smirk on his face. 

You seem eager, pliant under his touch, responding in ways I confess I hadn’t thought you capable of - no, not like this. Not with him.

My heart hammers in my chest, a tension spreading through me that’s… increasingly difficult to ignore. And yet, I remind myself, this is mere observation, nothing more. A clinical exercise in understanding the intricacies of interpersonal attractions between a vampire and a mortal; the undercurrent of danger that befalls such an arrangement.

He holds you with a blend of confidence and entitlement that borders on decadent, his mouth at your neck, lips brushing against your skin with a maddening leisure that’s somehow indulgent and teasing all at once. His fangs linger there and, for a moment, my heart stops - surely he wouldn’t… Ah, no. No, he’s not feeding. He merely kisses your neck, fangs scraping lightly against your throat - close enough to tempt and tantalise. I see the goosebumps flare on your skin.

He whispers something low and unintelligible, and you let out a soft giggle, yielding in a way that speaks of trust - trust that’s he’s earned, somehow, despite his nature.

And then your hand drifts between you both, touching him through his trousers.

Gosh. I hadn’t thought you so bold.

Astarion’s body arches into your touch, his gaze darkening as he watches you with a hunger that’s both terrifying and… strangely beautiful. I find myself entranced, my breath shallow as I observe the way your fingers trace over him, the way he leans into you. The noise he makes when your fingers flex, squeezing him gently over the fabric… Gracious. 

There’s a strange, reluctant curiosity building within me. I should look away. I should grant you both the privacy you likely assume you have. And yet, my gaze remains fixed, drawn to the details of your encounter: the way his hands tighten on your waist, the way your breaths synchronise, the way he murmurs softly into your ear…

I am aware - painfully so - of the ache low in my body that has built with each passing moment, each glance, each touch. I am no stranger to restraint - I have spent years tempering my desires, sacrificing comforts in the pursuit of knowledge, of power. Yet, here, now, I feel that restraint begin to falter; to dissolve like ink in water, dispersing until it is all but unrecognisable. It has been so long, after all. So, so long.

When your hands move to the waistband of his trousers, my breath catches. Gods above, surely you won't, not out in the open... but yes. Yes, it seems you will.

When you pull him free, well - I’ve always wondered about vampire physiology, purely academically, of course. But the sight of him prompts rather less scholarly thoughts. He’s impressively endowed - perhaps it is wishful thinking to believe that this is but another gift of his condition. It’s fascinating how vampiric transformation affects every part of the body - he’s almost luminescent in the firelight, every inch of him perfect and unmarred. I notice the veins that trace along his length, faintly visible beneath his skin. He is, even now, a study in confidence, exuding a subtle power that one can only achieve when utterly comfortable in one’s own skin.

Your hand wraps around him, sliding up and down his length at a teasing pace, drawing forth a sound I have never heard our pale companion make - a soft, broken gasp, caught somewhere between a moan and a sigh. It sounds almost reluctant, as though he hadn’t meant for such a sound to slip past his lips. He twitches under your ministrations, and his grip on your hips tightens enough that there will surely be bruises tomorrow.

My fingers rest at my thigh, trembling ever so slightly. A small part of me - a remnant of reason, perhaps - tells me to pull back, to look away, to let this moment pass without surrendering to the need that has taken root within me. But my body, the traitorous thing it is, does not heed such commands. Instead, I find my hand drifting lower.

My fingers trace over the fabric of my trousers, over the aching hardness beneath. A gentle palming, barely enough to ease the tension that coils tighter with each passing moment as I watch the scene unfold.

Your hands elicit quiet murmurs from Astarion that grow deeper and more insistent with each passing moment. For a moment, the two of you share a look - one of conspiratorial mischief, perhaps - and then a soft, shared giggle, the sound mingling with the crackling of the fire. 

You're so utterly engrossed in him; so utterly unselfconscious.

You shift, a question in your eyes, and as he nods, giving his assent, you rise just enough to shift, positioning yourself over him. Your skirts drape around you both, providing a veneer of modesty, though there's no mistaking what follows when you sink yourself down on to him. The way your lips part in a gasp as he enters you, the way his head falls back with a victorious grin - it makes the tightness, the great ache between my legs, almost unbearable.

I find my hand slipping beneath my waistband.

Just a little relief, I tell myself. Just enough to ease this maddening tension.

There is a certain poetry to it, I suppose - this surrender to the pleasures of the flesh. I allow myself to imagine, as my hand finds the throbbing heat of my arousal, what it might feel to be in your place, to have someone look at me with that same confidence, to experience touch imbued with the certainty of one who knows precisely how to elicit pleasure - a knowledge gleaned from centuries, no doubt, of indulgence and conquest.

It’s enough to leave me aching for more than mere observation.

The fervour with which you move against him… it’s hypnotic, each roll of your hips drawing forth increasingly wanton sounds from you both. Astarion's carefully crafted demeanour gives way to something more roguish, a playful daring that glints in his eyes as you rise and fall and rise and fall on his length.

I find my hand instinctively matching your rhythm, every shift and motion, as though I, too, am bound to the undulating tempo that you and Astarion have created.

Gods… what must it be like to be him? To have someone so openly, eagerly drawn to you, meeting every touch with matching fervour? To hold someone close and feel their raw desire, the thrill of each laugh, each gasp, offered without hesitation? I wonder what it must be like to inspire such a response, to be desired so freely, without need for pretence or restraint?

With Mystra, I was ever the pursuer, striving tirelessly to earn even the barest hint of her approval, each moment together feeling like an examination I desperately hoped to pass. But Astarion… well. He needn't chase or convince. Despite his vampiric nature - or perhaps, in part, because of it - he is simply desired, freely given all that I once had to beg for. The inequity of it all would be rather poetic, if it weren't so personally vexing.

“A-ah!”

Your gasp cuts through my ruminations, pulling me back into the scene.

Astarion’s hand has slipped between you, guiding you to that final crescendo with a practised touch. The sight of it is utterly spellbinding: his fingers moving with a precision that speaks to centuries of experience, knowing just where to press, where to linger. The control he exercises over you is enviable, each movement of his hand coaxing you closer to that peak, his attention wholly focused on your reaction, even as your hips rock back and forth on his length with an increasingly frantic, unrestrained urgency.

The way your eyes roll back... Gosh.

The expression on your face, one of pure, unfiltered abandon, is a sight to behold.

Your body trembles as you reach your peak, and a sound - a cry, too loud in the stillness of the night - escapes your lips. Astarion’s palm clamps over your mouth, a futile attempt to muffle you in the throes of your climax. Though he hushes you, his expression suggests that he is not in the least bit concerned. In fact, he seems rather pleased - more than pleased, really. 

There’s a thrill in such a public display for him too, no doubt.

I swallow, the sound almost too loud, my heart pounding against my ribs as though it seeks to betray me. Astarion's head tilts slightly, his gaze flickering to the shadows, and for one heart-stopping moment, I think he has sensed me, that his attention has shifted from you to this invisible interloper, the scholar caught red-handed in his quiet act of voyeurism.

Could he... sense me here, lingering on the fringe of his private moment? Could he smell the stir of my own arousal, feel the faint tremor of my breath as I fight for composure? For several heartbeats, my hand freezes. I dare not even breathe.

But then his attentions return to you, and I breathe a sigh of relief. 

He brings his hands to your hips, holding them firmly in place as he drives himself upwards into you, deeper, with mounting desperation. It seems he seeks to chase his own release, content with the pleasure he has wrought you.

You respond eagerly, pressing closer, your own sounds growing louder, heedless of who might hear, and I can see that thrill in his face - the satisfaction of knowing he’s eliciting every reaction from you, drawing out each gasp, each shudder.

My hand glides hastily across my arousal, my own breathing growing ragged as I watch his control begin to slip. Even from here, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his head tips back in pure abandon.

In the final throes, he presses himself against you, buried firmly to the hilt. It’s almost animalistic, all thoughts, all calculated movements, making way for one singular goal: to empty himself into you, filling you with all he has to offer with breaths rugged and low. All composure is stripped, replaced with instinct and pure need.

I find my own movements quickening to match his pace, as though some invisible thread binds us all to this moment. My hand tightens as I lose myself in the same tempo, every sound from you both spurring me closer. The sight of his final shudder, the look of utter satisfaction crossing his face as he reaches that height, is enough to tip me over the edge.

For a heartbeat, the night seems to hold us all in perfect suspension - your quiet gasps, his satisfied murmurs, my own silent echo of shared pleasure - all woven together in this clandestine tableau.

Only then, as the euphoria begins to fade, does a most uncomfortable awareness creep in.

Gods above, what have I... A scholar of worldly acclaim, reduced to voyeur, caught up in base desires like some common... No. Best not to dwell on such things. Though I suspect sleep will prove rather elusive tonight, haunted by questions of propriety and... other matters.

With a groan, I roll onto my back, the orb’s steady throb now a minor annoyance compared to the tangled thoughts that flood my mind. Perhaps I can chalk this entire… incident up to fatigue, a wandering mind, even a fevered dream. Yes, that must be it. The product of a restless night and, possibly, a touch of indigestion. After all, who could believe that I, Gale of Waterdeep, would be brought so low as to... well, that.

As morning light spills across camp, I attempt a façade of normalcy, willing my cheeks to cool and my mind to settle. Just as I convince myself the night’s events were nothing more than a peculiar dream, Astarion sidles up, his expression one of leisurely amusement.

"Restless night, Gale?” he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. His gaze is as sharp as his tone, a knowing glint in his eyes that makes my stomach twist in the most uncomfortable way. "I thought I heard a... stirring from your tent."

The corner of his mouth quirks up in that infuriatingly smug way of his, and I nearly choke on my response. 

He knew. 

Astarion knew. 

I force a cough, pretending to inspect the morning sky.

"A dream," I reply a bit too quickly. "Perhaps the cheese at dinner was... overly ripe."

But Astarion merely chuckles, a wicked sound, before strolling away with a satisfied air. And as I watch him saunter off, I’m left to question just how much of the night was a dream - and how much, mortifyingly, was very, very real.

Masterlist can be found here!

No Pressure Tags: @roguishcat @davenswitcher @silverfangmarks @sparrowbard @chonkercatto @stokzr @trafalgarussy @asterordinary

[pandoraspurgatory]

seeing your hc of katsuki being into vanilla homemade porn has me dazy eyed 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫….. i’m so curious now if there were any specific porn creators you thought of when envisioning what he liked? or any who you think would fuck like katsuki? goodness… 😵‍💫

Turbulent

Truthfully I am not a porn watcher as I am a porn reader, so that question is far beyond my knowledge lol. Though I’ve written an in depth version of Katsuki watching porn, hope you enjoy<3

Katsuki Bakugo can’t get off on mainstream porn, though something changes when he finds a couples homemade video

Katsuki Bakugo likes vanilla porn, masturbation, cum, pretty vanilla here, mentions of facefucking + cuckholding, Denki and Mineta are bitchless

Katsuki never cared enough nor paid much attention to porn, stroking himself in his bedroom wasn’t worth the effort when he could spend his time training and honing his skills as a 3rd year student close to graduating.

Either it was that, or the fact that he just couldn’t cum from it.

He first gave it watching porn a go when Denki and Mineta spent the afternoon yapping about different genres of porn. He wasn’t an eavesdropper, though he listened in on the conversation, taking notes for a later date.

Bakugo only ever found himself rubbing one out when he woke up with a painful hard on, or got so worked up over some fantasy that he couldn’t get his dick back down.

That same night Katsuki sat infront of his laptop, legs open and pants discarded on the carpeted floor, a bottle of lotion splayed out on the bed next to him. He opened up the first website that appeared after typing ‘porn’ in his browser, incognito mode on of course, he had double checked. Hastily typing what he had overheard in the orange and black search bar.

‘Face fucking’

He grimaced as he clicked on the first video of some Internet whore with a fat cock stuffed down her throat. Mascara running down her face as she started her assault of sucking on the comically large dick. He could somewhat imagine himself doing it, though the drool and mess was a massive turnoff that made him feel sticky just watching it. Next

‘Cuckholding’

The moment it appeared on his screen after searching a lot made sense regarding Denki and Mineta. Of course they were into this shit, why the fuck did he even decide to listen on to those morons conversation. He was confident he could never be into this. Next

The next hour was filled off him stroking his half erect cock to mediocre videos with no luck. He’d even watched the top most recommended on the site, the drum beat before each video posing as a reminder that this wasn’t working. At this point it wasn’t even to get himself off, but rather to prove to himself he could find a video to do it for him.

None of this shit on his laptop could even remotely turn him on, there was no love or intimacy, just videos of devoid eyes and lacklustre movements that screamed ‘I want to get home and get my paycheck!’.

He hated to admit it, though he couldn’t ever imagine himself having a one night stand or watching these emotionless videos again. Despite his rough and calloused nature, he craved intimacy just as much as he craved to be the best in his class. Katsukis cock lay limp in his hand as he scrolls through the videos, more and more loading after each roll of the laptop mouse.

That was until a certain video caught his eye.

‘Our first video - couple homemade’ 12 views, posted 2 hours ago

He clicked on it, something felt different about this one. The thumbnail displaying what seemed to be a couple in their mid twenties, kissing in the frame of the video. The women had long black hair and sexy curves that made Katsukis dick twitch. The man she was with cupping her face gently with deep admiration for her in his eyes.

As the video slowly played out on his screen, he paid no mind to the humming background noise of their bedroom fan and the shitty resolution. What struck him was the way they kindly talked to each other, pressing small yet passionate kisses on each others faces, how their soft hands rubbed and stroked at one another with care and love.

Katsukis hand roughly gripped around his dick before he could even think to do it. Feeling himself desperately stroke faster each time the couple said sentences of care and sweet nothings to each other. Low moans he didn’t anticipate escaping his mouth as the man slowly inserted himself into the curvy brunette. He wasn’t even attracted to the couple in the video, though he couldn’t help but feel the coil in his stomach build as the intimacy of their love making displayed itself before him.

He wanted to be the one to do it, to bury his cock into his hypothetical girlfriend and dick her down with all the love in his heart. Apart of him felt weird for not being turned on by the professionally made studio porn instead of the homemade couple video with a total of 500 pixels. He tried not to think about it too hard, and focus on how hard his shaft throbbed in his hands.

He felt blissed out as he slowly edged himself, determined to cum at the same time as the couple, a desperately attempt at feeling included. Squeezing his tip harder every time pretty moans escaped their mouths, fuck he wanted to be in their position so badly.

“F-fuck babe… mmmnggg… gonna cum”

“That’s it, come for me pretty girl”

“Cum with me! I wanna feel you cum inside me”

Katsukis stomach felt hot, he was so turned on by the way they spoke to each other, the way they both quickened their movements desperate to make each other cum.

The moment the couple on the screen cried out in pleasure, Katsuki gave a few quick tugs, finishing himself off.

He gave out an embarrassingly loud groan as he released himself, ropes of his cum shooting onto his laptop screen. Panting as he laid back on his bed, he needs someone to do this with as soon as fucking possible

[specshroom]

hello hello, I stumbled across your writing and wanted to say how much I enjoyed “Blood In The Water” I was curious about how reader struck that deal with all the mer-creatures in the first place?! did they try to eat reader too? or did one/many have an attachment or attraction since reader grew up around that place? the whistling was soooo cool, like they were dogs trained to a command! does that mean they had struggles with communication at first? do the mer-peeps understand language or just body language? I’m full of questions 😂❤️ it was just so enthralling and love a good morally grey character! is reader struggling to make ends meet and that’s why they do this? or is it more of ‘it’s either me or them’ type scenario? OR reader is just like this is the easiest way to get money?! 👀 oml lemme stop here this is getting quite long— LOVE UR STUFF 😚

I'M SO GLAD IT INTERESTED YOU SO MUCH (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

I like to keep things up to interpretation cus I think it's more fun BUT I can answer a few of those.

- They definitely struggled at first lol. The merfolk can't speak human language and don't understand it. Humans can't speak mer-language either because it's mostly high pitched clicks and chitters. Reader figures out that the closest they can get to making sounds the merfolk understand is by whistling because it's loud and high pitched enough that they can hear it easily even through the water.

- They do share a lot of body language and mannerisms with humans (like kissing👀) so that made things easier.

- The merfolk do recognise Reader as a local and that made them more trustworthy. (Later on they marked the bottom of Readers boat so they know it's them🥺)

I wrote a little drabble to answer the "How did this happen?" question.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You sigh as you row your way out of the canal and into the open waters.

Your new patron lounges in his seat on the opposite side of the gondola, staring up at the clear blue sky. You preferred doing business at night when it's quiet, few braved these waters at night. Alas dwindling funds force you to suffer the business of the day. There's just too much comotion in the daytime, too many tourists.

Its been like this since the first rich fool "discovered" that your relatively small and unimpressive lake town actually boasts some magnificent and horrific monsters in the depths of the decievingly calm waters surrounding it. Now flocks of fools come to "test their bravery" by crossing the dangerous waters.

Conservationists and locals convinced them that hunting down the monsters in the lake would lead to environmental catastrophe and the snobs decided that it would be a better investment as a tourist attraction.

"Don't you get bored of this?"

Your patron slices the silence in half. You blink out of your thoughts, releasing the iron grip you had on your oar.

"I could give you a different job."

The well dressed man's tone is almost convincingly sympathetic. You keep your gaze locked onto the familiar waters ahead of you...until you hear the distinct sound of coins being jostled against one another. That changes things.

You hesitantly turn to where the stranger sits comfortably, grinning with pride.

"I thought so, it's always the same with you locals."

The tourist opens his money bag and takes out one gold coin. At least enough for a small meal.

"What would you do for it?"

He plays with the coin in his fingers before tossing it out of the boat and into the water. The carelessness with which he tosses his gold makes your blood run hot. Through the thick permanent fog that hangs over the waters, you can just barely see the gold coin as it sinks into the abyss and your stomach growls pitifully.

He holds out the pouch over the side of the boat, dangling it over the water.

"Would you dive for it?"

The sick thing is that you actually consider it. You stare intensely at the stupid pouch that could keep you going for a good while.

The man suddenly drops the pouch and you jump forward to catch it but he yanks it back up by the drawstring before it can touch the surface of the water. He laughs at his cruel humour and your blood reaches it's boiling point.

You don't know why it was that patron in particular that made you snap or why that bad day in particular made you finally put the knife skills your father taught you to good use.

But before either of you know it his laughter turns to bloody choking. You scramble off of him, panic clear on your face. He reaches for the knife in his neck but it's useless. His body sags over the edge of the boat and his blood mixes with the water. You watch with wide eyes as he takes his last struggled breaths.

It's silent for a while before you take your eyes off of the man Infront of you to look down at your red stained hands. You look around as if anyone could've seen your crime through the fog anyway.

After a while of just staring blankly at the still body Infront of you, you try to compose yourself and lift him off the side of the gondola. You manage to tip him over and watch his body sink down.

You stare at the corpse fading deeper into the water. Just as you ready yourself to leave the scene something rocks the gondola slightly and you fall on your ass, gripping the side of the boat.

You feel a breath on the side of your cheek and jump when you look over and see two big pitch black eyes staring at you from over the side of the boat. Your skin turns to ice, unable to move.

You hear chittering from the other side and jump again as another one peers over the furnished wood of the boat. The first one takes your frozen hand in their cold clawed hand and inspects the drying blood covering it.

They stick their tongue out and slowly lick all the way up your shaking hand, licking away at the blood as if cleansing you of your sin. The other makes a clicking sound that sounds oddly like laughter.

Once all the blood on your hand has been licked off, the creature looks up at you for a moment before disappearing below the surface once more. The other one doesn't look like it wants to go but a few clicks from the water convince it to slowly lower back into the depths.

You lean over the side of the gondola trying to get a better look at the creature before it leaves. You deflate when you don't see so much as a ripple in the water.

Suddenly, just as you were sure they weren't coming back, the same one from moments ago bursts from the water. In a second it cups your cheek and kisses you. It's hard and deep, more passionate than you'd ever had before. The creature releases you and this time before it leaves it gives a little wave with its strange webbed hand. You wave back, a little dazed, as the monster dives back into the water.

You have to sit there for a good while staring at the pouch of coin the tourist left behind and then back to the murky waters, touching your lips while contemplating what the hell just happened.

[moonstruckme]

If it interests you, could you maybe do poly!marauders smut surrounding how they would react when reader gives one of the boys a blowjob? If this isn’t comfy for you I apologize immensely. I double checked your rules so hopefully I didn’t overstep or anything. Love your work! Also my middle name is Mae:)))

Honestly babe when I read this I didn’t know if I was comfy with it either (not because of you, just because I didn’t know if I’d be able to write it) but I decided to give it a go and somehow it turned into over 2k words? So thanks!

cw: smut mdni, oral (m receiving), praise, this might be horrible? I can't decide if I hate it

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

Sirius’ kisses have turned sloppy, one of his hands wrapped loosely around your neck while the other wiggles its fingers below the waistband of your jeans, taking greedy handfuls of hip. His hard length presses into your thigh through his pants. You tilt your head, slanting your mouth against his so you can kiss him more deeply, and a low groan rumbles through him. 

He plants a chaste kiss on your lips before starting to mark a path downwards. 

You know where this is going, and you like where this is going, but still a breathless “wait” slips past your lips. 

Sirius pauses, his face hovering over your middle. Next to you on the bed, your boyfriends continue making out, but you can see you’ve caught James’ attention. His eyes open to slits, peeking from beneath his lashes to check on you. 

“What’s up?” Sirius asks, rubbing your hip. “Don’t feel like it?” 

“No, I just…” you rub your lips together nervously, and you see his eyes drop to the motion. Already large pupils growing larger. “I wanted to know if I can ask you something.” 

Sirius’ eyes skim over you, a slow perusal that’s probably meant to deduce the cause of your anxiety but only serves to worsen it. “Sure you can,” he says, tone somewhat gentler than usual. “What is it, sweetness?” 

“Could you maybe,” you ask hesitantly, wishing you could lean away from him, as if some distance between you would make this any less embarrassing, “teach me to give you a blowjob?” 

Sirius’ lips part in surprise. This time it’s Remus who you catch looking over, a second before James breaks their kiss, sitting up over Remus’ torso. 

“You wanna learn?” James asks, lips bitten red and swollen. 

You glance between him and Sirius, not quite sure who to look at. “Yeah?” you say, hating the way your voice crawls up into a question. 

Sirius’ eyebrows twitch together. “You know you don’t have to,” he says, “right?” 

“I know.” You give him a little smile. “I’m just curious, I guess.” 

“Okay,” he says. His thumb sweeps over your hip like he knows you need the reassurance. “Yeah, we can show you, gorgeous. Wanna do it sitting down?” 

You take a breath, nodding before crawling out from under him and kneeling on the floor by the bed. Sirius follows you, sitting on the edge of the mattress and spreading his legs wide. Your brain buzzes in response to the erection you can see bulging through his pants. 

You glance towards the other boys. “Are you guys just going to…watch?” 

They’ve both been staring at you, but now James grins sheepishly. “If you don’t mind.” 

“We can help, if you’re alright with that,” Remus offers. “Give you tips.” 

You can feel your face growing warm at the prospect of them being witness to your bumbling first attempt, but you don’t hate the idea of them coaching you through it. 

“M’kay,” you say. “Um, what do I do?” 

“Try taking it out, sweetheart.” There’s a bit of laughter in Remus’ voice, but his hand is gentle as he reaches over the edge of the bed, brushing your hair behind your ear. 

Your eyes flit up to Sirius’ face. He gives you a smile, and you undo his pants, pulling down the waistband of his underwear so that his length springs free. For a few moments you just look at it, wetting your lips before looking to the boys for direction. 

“Here.” James gets down on the floor beside you and takes your hand in his, guiding it to Sirius’ shaft. “You’re probably gonna want to start by holding it like this, okay?” He wraps your fingers around the base. “Good. Now be careful to cover your teeth, and just try putting it in your mouth.” 

Just? You glance up at Sirius again, and a bit of pride swells in you at the undisguised lust in his expression.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you tell him softly. 

“Me neither,” he jokes, reaching down to thumb affectionately at your cheek. “You won’t hurt me, baby. And you can stop anytime you want, you know that. If you don’t like it, just stop.” 

You bob your head, wrap your lips around your teeth, and take him into your mouth before you can think too hard about it. His cock feels odd and weighty on your tongue. You lean forward a bit, seeing how far you can go. 

“Breathe through your nose,” Remus instructs. “Try sucking on it, whenever you’re ready.” 

You let your jaw relax, sucking experimentally, like you might on a popsicle. Sirius moans. 

“Just like that,” he says, voice taking on a thick quality. “Fuck, good job, baby.” 

Warmth unfurls in your gut at the praise. You suckle a bit longer, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth before you begin moving slowly forward and backward. After a few tries, your lips are making contact with the curled O of your thumb and forefinger each time. Sirius’ cock twitches in your mouth. 

“You’ve got it, angel.” James’ big hand roves the curves of your side, his touch steadying your nerves and stirring that heat in your core. “Don’t rush yourself, but if you wanna take him deeper you can take your hand off.” 

You do it with little hesitation, high on praise and the rush of what you’ve already accomplished, and ease more of Sirius’ shaft into your mouth. He puts a hand in your hair to help you along, but then all of a sudden it’s too deep, too big, too much. You gag, choking. 

Sirius’ hand disappears instantly, but you’re not so ready to give up. Your throat spasms around the intrusion, vision blurring as you try to breathe through your nose. 

“Easy,” Remus murmurs.

You finally can’t stand it anymore, pulling away and drawing in a gasping breath. 

“Shit,” Sirius says, and you lift your teary eyes to his embarrassedly while James rubs your back. “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” you manage, swallowing. “Sorry.” 

His eyes go soft. “Don’t be sorry, you did great. Do you wanna stop now?” 

You shake your head. “I think I just need a second.” 

He nods, and there’s a few seconds of quiet, James' hand coasting up and down your spine. “Do you think a demonstration would help?’ he asks. 

You swipe under your lashes, looking over at him curiously. “Um, maybe? I’m not sure.” 

He exchanges a quick look with Remus before grinning, shuffling closer to where the other boy sits at the edge of the bed and taking off his glasses. “Here. Sirius, talk her through what I’m doing, yeah?” 

Sirius seems about as transfixed by what’s about to happen as you are, but he nods. James does as you had, taking Remus’ cock out of his pants, and there’s no need to get it warmed up after the show you’ve been giving them. He feeds it right into his mouth. Remus groans as James takes his entire length expertly, fisting a hand in the other boy’s curly hair. 

“Right. Um, see how he’s breathing deep through his nose?” Sirius clears his throat, voice noticeably rough as he watches James’ lips move over Remus’ shaft. “He’s keeping his throat relaxed, not moving back and forth too much.” 

You watch as James’ mouth grows wet with spit and slick, his eyes watering a bit as he fights his gag reflex. His throat bobs, and Remus swears, his grip tightening on James’ hair. 

“And when he swallows,” Sirius manages, “his throat tightens, which is…uh, nice.” 

Remus lets out a breathy, half-delirious laugh at Sirius’ commentary. His cheeks are flushed red from pleasure and the attention, and it’s not long before curses start to spew from his mouth and he goes rigid, cuming down James’ throat. James swallows, grinning up at him. Lips and eyes shiny.

You and Sirius watch them for a few seconds longer, entranced by the sight of your boyfriends. 

“Okay.” You clear your throat. “Um, thanks.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Remus says weakly, and you have to swallow a laugh. 

You turn to Sirius. “I think I’m ready to try again.” 

He gestures as if to say Go right ahead, and you take his shaft in your hand, guiding it back into your mouth. Once again, it takes time to adjust to the feeling, but this time when his head hits the back of your throat you’re ready for it. You breathe steadily through your mouth, focussing on staying relaxed as you suck gently. 

“There you go, angel,” James praises, putting his glasses back on to watch you. “You’re taking him so well.” 

“Fucking yeah she is,” Sirius agrees, voice growing reedy as he starts to pant. You take one of his legs to steady yourself, hand wrapping around a tattoo on his thigh. “Look at me, baby.” 

You lift your watery eyes to his, finding the stormcloud gray nearly eclipsed by dark pupil. The raw want in them makes your cunt throb. Sirius must find your face nearly as arousing, because he mutters another quiet, Fuck.

You’re distantly conscious of Remus shuffling back to the edge of the bed, and then he’s laying his head on his arms, gazing down at you. “Look at you, such a quick learner,” he hums. “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart. Making him feel so good.” 

“Look at her eyes,” James says, just loud enough so you can hear. You know they’re aware of what their words are doing to you, of the wetness pooling in your underwear. “She looks so pretty like this, doesn’t she?” 

“She does,” Remus agrees. “Our pretty girl.” 

You move a bit more surely over Sirius’ length, constricting your throat tentatively. Sirius moans loudly, his hand twitching toward you before he stops it. You take it in yours, setting it on the back of your head so he can guide you the way he wants. 

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he pants, tangling his hand in your hair. “So good f’me.” 

You make a small, pleasurable sound, and another moan slips from between his lips, his hand urging you closer. You breathe through it when his cock sponges against the back of your throat, starting to enjoy the odd sensation of your mouth and throat being so deliciously full—and, if you’re being honest with yourself, the feeling of knowing you’re doing well. And if Sirius’ increasingly loud curses and the other boys’ murmured praise are anything to go by, you’re doing rather well. 

“God, I wish you could see how you look right now,” James says, voice smooth as velvet as he drops a kiss on your shoulder. “You’re so lovely.” 

“Fucking hot, s’what she is,” Sirius insists, brows coming together so urgently you wonder for a second if he’s in pain. “Fuck. Shit, where can I cum?” 

You don’t take your mouth off his cock, doing your best to communicate with your eyes. Sirius seems to get the message, his grip on your hair tightening, pulling at your scalp as his thigh tenses under your hand. You swallow hurriedly, and the sounds that leave him will echo in your dreams for the rest of the week, loud, pleady moans interspersed with mangled curses. Your mouth fills with warm wetness, and you ease him out of your throat before swallowing again. 

“There we are.” James tugs you gently away when he realizes neither you or Sirius are moving, pulling you half into his lap. “You did it, sweetheart, great job.” 

He strokes his thumb under your eyes for you, wiping away the wetness there as Remus watches you move your tongue around in your mouth funnily. 

“You alright?” he asks you.

You nod. “Tastes different than I thought it would,” you say. 

James laughs, the sound bright and clear. He plants a smacking kiss on your cheek. 

“Not bad, I hope,” Sirius says, voice still a bit stringy. He leans back on his elbows, watching you from the bed. 

You feel color rise to your cheeks. “No. Not bad.” 

His lips quirk up, eyes steady on yours. “That was fucking killer,” he tells you, “especially for your first time. Thanks for that, gorgeous.” 

You grin bashfully, dropping your eyes. James clears his throat loudly. 

“Right, right, and thank you for the demonstration,” Sirius adds. “Very instructive.” 

James beams, but Sirius only pats the bed next to him. 

“Why don’t you hop up here so I can give you a real thanks?” 

Impossibly, James’ smile widens. He’s quick to obey, Sirius moving to take his place on the floor. Your lips part, and you hear Remus chuckle. You turn to find his amber eyes watching you. They linger on your lips, still glossy and swollen. 

“Y’want me to help you out too, sweetheart?” He juts his chin toward the bed, a silent request for you to lie down. “Seems only fair, doesn’t it.”