#but i just... kept going. and going. and going. to each of these little things. and then...

[ratmonky]

Tide of Turmoil (Chapter 3)

word count: 5.3k

warnings: non-con, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, blood, obsession, manipulation, power imbalance, ptsd, past sexual assault, sexual assault, cannibalism, forced pregnancy, breeding, miscarriage, tw munkey content

ao3 link

Time passed weirdly while you were in there. You could sometimes tell. There were some clues, such as Beam leaving for work. He always arrived at the office a bit after you did back then, so it had to be close to nine in the morning when he left.

By the time he returned, you would be sleeping in the cold but it wasn’t as cold as before since you had covered the air vent. You were never too sure about when he returned though, it could be minutes, it could be hours. They both felt the same. In the end, you always greeted him like a dog waiting for its owner. 

You were relieved that he was there and you weren’t alone.

As if he didn’t put you here.

To your disbelief RELIEF, he didn’t touch you much. You tried to make sure to sleep with the blanket over your head and against a wall in the corner where he put the bed but he always managed to sleep right next to you. During your restless sleep, you would wake up a couple of times to find Beam humping you in his sleep, his teeth deep in your shoulder. Although you were scared of him getting it infected, you kept quiet. That was another thing, he bit you a lot. You kept bleeding nonstop and it hurt like hell, each time the wounds managed to close a little he would tear the flesh again with his sharp teeth. Biting was something he did that you first thought to be to make you weaker but soon you realized that he was just acting on his instincts. Devils were weird.

When he finally returned, Beam didn’t bring the things he promised he would. You were able to get your hands on a small pillow and a thin blanket which would do nothing against the brutal cold air of the bunker. It would make it a bit more comfortable to sleep now though, you couldn’t deny that the pillow he brought would let you sleep without hurting your neck. 

“Here,” he said, holding out a trash bag towards you. Once you put down the pillow and wrapped yourself in the blanket, you took the trash bag from him to check what was inside. There were clothes inside. Work clothes. Pencil skirt, button-down shirt, and a blazer. You thought at some point that he was mocking you but Beam probably thought you only wore work clothes. Nonetheless, you had some new clothes you could wear. 

“Thank you,” you said with a smile that you hoped looked genuine. “Can you bring me other clothes too? I am not working right now and these clothes are for work only.”

He seemed a little hurt but nodded rapidly. “Beam will bring clothes.” He got closer like he wanted something. From the way he was tilting his head, you knew what it was.

Patting his head, you praised him. “Good job.”

He smiled, showing you his sharp teeth, “Beam is good!” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his hot body. You melted into his touch because of the warmth and hugged him back, desperate to get warmer. His mouth which was buried in the crook of your neck started rubbing against the bite mark he had left. It hurt and when you winced, he tightened his arms around you. 

Panicking, you let out a squeak, “Beam…”

The hot and wet feeling of his tongue made goosebumps erupt all over your skin, you tried pushing him away but his arms were preventing you. He was growling like an animal. He was nothing like what he used to be like at work, he was becoming more and more unpredictable, you wondered if that was because your contract with Makima was over. You felt him trace the bite mark with the tip of his tongue and he kept applying pressure into one spot. 

“It hurts,” you whispered, your mind going hazy from the warmth and the pain preventing you from relaxing of not being cold anymore. 

His arms didn’t loosen around you but he forced you against the wall, his mouth didn’t leave your neck for a single second. As he was pushing your back against the wall, you could feel his hard erection pressing against your stomach. Whether it be from the cold making you sensitive to feeling anything, the sudden rush of warmth was overwhelming, you could feel him throbbing. Placing a hand on the wall, he rubbed himself against you with a frustrated groan. 

You gasped in fear, all the memories of the night where he left you bleeding and bruised coming back to you. Squirming, you anxiously and hurriedly spoke to yourself in an attempt to prove that this was all nothing but a nightmare. You didn’t wake up in your bed though, you were still in the arms of the fiend who kidnapped you. A sudden sob left your lips, you were going to relive everything, weren’t you? 

Beam let you go as you started crying hysterically, he must have been surprised by your strange outburst of emotions. He took a few steps back and mumbled something you didn’t hear. When you calmed yourself enough to look around, you saw that he had left. 

Well, at least you knew that he couldn’t handle you crying.

Did you really want him gone?

What if he was gone for good?

You had to be careful if you wanted to get out of here.

Time didn’t pass in the next moments, you tried sleeping but it was too cold to even with the blanket you had gotten. The air vents were cruel, blowing the coldest air inside constantly. You turned to look at the pile of clothes and an idea struck you. 

In the next moment, you were climbing on the table after putting a chair on top to reach the vents with a few pieces of clothing in your hand. You tried using the clothes to cover the vent by stuffing the small grills with them. To your surprise, you were able to cover them and the vent wasn’t blowing cold air in full force anymore. 

You got down to try to sleep again, you wanted to save some energy while also distracting yourself from hunger. It wasn’t long before you started feeling wrong. At first, you thought it to be from the cold or hunger but soon later you realized that your stomach was burning and your throat was aching. Rushing to the bathroom, you started vomiting full force, all that came out was water but the acidic taste of vomit lingered in your dry mouth.

Washing your face and mouth, you returned to your spot to sleep after drinking more water. The bunker wasn’t as cold anymore and you were grateful that you would be able to sleep without waking up from the cold from now on.

As soon as you put your head down on the pillow, the water you drank made its way up, this time you covered your mouth to run to the bathroom but the vomit dripped from the gaps of your fingers and onto the floor. 

You could slowly feel your energy and strength leave your body as you gagged continuously, heaving and vomiting whatever was left. Coughing, you washed your face and returned to the bed without drinking any water. This time you didn’t vomit but you could feel your heart palpitating, your cheeks were warm and you were scared. Were you going to die?

From what exactly? You haven’t been here for long and you didn’t eat anything weird-

The vivid image of the dirty water coming from the kitchen sink flashed in your mind, you then understood one thing: the water you had been drinking from the kitchen sink wasn’t safe. 

You started sweating while thinking about all of the possibilities of what would happen now, Beam wouldn’t be able to take care of you if you were sick. Fuck. 

You forced yourself to sleep while your stomach churned without any rest, and you tasted vomit in your mouth even hours later. However, it was unbearable to sleep when hunger took over all of your senses. That was when you tried eating a protein bar. It took seconds until you gagged and covered your mouth to get up and run to the bathroom but your body wouldn’t move, and you ended up vomiting on the ground. Humiliating, the stench was too acidic and it was right by your face, pooling under your chin and neck. 

Poisoned? Or was it just unfiltered water bacteria? Were you going to die? 

Pathetic sobs started leaving your mouth as you called out for Beam’s name, fear was overwhelming your senses, you felt wrong, and it was almost like you were going to die. What if you died right now? Then what? Would he just leave you here, throw you somewhere, or continue to keep you as his pet?

Pfft, so pathetic to die from drinking water. Can you imagine Beam finding your dead body covered in vomit and piss? He would probably mourn you for a second before ravishing you. Would it matter to him if your body was going cold? Would he prefer it warm? Well, you knew that he was unaffected by the cold, his own body warmth might warm yours.

Whatever the outcome, you wouldn’t be conscious to know your fate.

Fuck.

You were so hungry.

Meat. Yeak, steak would be nice.

Although you ate well-done steaks, the steak that you imagined in front of your eyes was rare, with blood dripping from the center and as you cut the meat, it was tender. 

Covering your mouth with your arm, you hoped to stop daydreaming of food. However, it didn’t help. The smell of meat was close. If only you opened your mouth, you could taste it.

You could taste it.

Drool dripped from the sides of your mouth as you opened your mouth and took some of your flesh in. Your teeth sank into the flesh without hesitation and the pain wasn’t there. Were you dreaming?

No, you weren’t.

Grinding your teeth, you could feel the strings of muscle and flesh being torn apart from the skin. The blood tasted so good. It was just like a steak.

You chewed. It was so chewy. But God… It tasted perfect. You swallowed and were about to take another bite.

Eating steak and-

You weren’t eating steak.

You were eating your own flesh.

You froze and stared at your furiously bleeding arm. Death was inevitable now. With the way you were bleeding, it would only take a few hours until you lost enough blood to suffer from the consequences.

Why had you gone and taken a bite of yourself?

Fuck. You pressed your hand against the bleeding wound. 

Some of your strength returned and to your surprise, you didn’t vomit again. 

You lied on the rough floor and stared at the wall. 

Were you going insane?

Was it because you were stuck here or was it because the only thing keeping you alive was Beam?

Why did your flesh taste so good?

Time passed. You weren’t sure how long it had been but it must have been hours. Because your blood had dried on your arm and your breathing became uneven, you were weak and felt like seconds away from death.

Until Beam came to find you next to a pool of vomit and blood. 

“(name)!” he sounded worried, his warm hands grabbed your shoulders and turned you around.

“Beam,” you whispered as he took you in his arms, “Take me to a hospital.” It wasn’t a request.

Shaking his head to deny your demand, he took you to the bathroom. Against your protests, he walked you into the shower. Which broke the promise of never using the shower, especially while he was there. It had to be okay, you thought to yourself. You were sick and terribly weak.

As he was undressing you, sobs let your lips but you held onto him, hoping that you wouldn’t fall down. Your hands on his strong shoulders could feel the muscles move under your palm, oddly it was the only thing you could focus on while he continued fiddling with the shower. He finally turned on the water which was warm to your surprise. Yet, his arm around your waist that was helping you stay up was warmer. 

Once you were fully nude, he got closer to hold the shower head over your face. His naked chest against yours felt nice. You had to be going crazy to admit this. 

He was gentle as he let the warm water wash the dust, blood, and vomit off of you, his hands caressed your cheek so softly that you thought it was warm water running down your face. By the time he was done, you asked for water and food. Better food would be nice or a toothbrush because you could sort of guess that eating nothing but protein bars could harm the teeth the same way eating too many sweets would. Or your own flesh.

“Yes, yes!” A deep frown was on his face, he looked unsure if you were actually sick or if you were messing with him. While he was trying to put you in the new clothes he had brought with him, you noticed that these were just random clothes, possibly things he stole from someone’s drying rack. Although the thought of sharing a stranger’s underwear was a distant idea, today it was real. You couldn’t object as Beam put someone’s underwear on you and dressed you in their clothes. 

Then he scooped you in his arms and you wrapped your arms around his neck in surprise to not fall. He would never drop you.

He walked back into the bunker and you saw that he had prepared a spot on a corner. There was a makeshift floor bed. After grabbing the blanket, he wrapped it around the two of you and kept you close to him as the two of you laid down on the floor bed, you didn’t protest and fell asleep in his arms.

The next time you opened your eyes, he wasn’t there but there was a plastic bag next to the bed on the floor. You sat up to check what it was. There was some food in a container with someone else’s name on it, bottles of water, and a toothbrush. No toothpaste. Though, you weren’t complaining.

You felt a bit better but you were scared of eating anything for a while. You didn’t want to vomit or go through that again. Yet you were too weak to do anything anyway. You laid in the bed and didn’t try to get up. 

Beam woke you up, it had to be evening time from the way he looked. What you could see of his face was covered in dirt and he had dried blood on his chest. He held your head up and made you drink bottled water carefully, it tasted weird.

“Medicine,” he said with a grin when he noticed your scrunched nose. “Stomach medicine!”

You thanked him for at least trying to take care of you while you were sick. He was kind and gentle. Maybe this wasn’t as bad of a situation.

What the fuck?

He helped you take the medicine and let you lay down again. He didn’t get in the bed with you but instead sat next to the bed to watch you. His warm hand started petting your head like you were a scared animal. In a way you were. 

As he kept petting your head and carded through your hair with his fingers, you found yourself falling asleep. In your sleep, you wondered why he was being so nice but your thoughts then shifted to the time he showered you. His body against yours and his soft touch. The way he held you up and carried you, he was so strong.

Strong enough to rip off the wheel handle of the bunker’s door. 

He could easily hurt you if he wanted but he didn’t.

He will.

When you woke up in cold sweat, he was there, lying next to you with an open mouth. From the looks of it he was sleeping, you took your time to study his face. Facial hair was growing out of his face, meaning he was shaving his face daily but didn’t do it here. Did he have a second home? Or did someone do it for him when he was at work?

The top half of his head was smooth, a sharkskin that wasn’t slimy yet it wasn’t completely dry either. You lifted your hand to touch him, the skin felt nice under your fingertips, soft and smooth. His hair had gotten longer, you didn’t know if he got it trimmed or anything. His facial skin was also smooth except for where the facial hair was growing. You retrieved your hand and continued staring. You didn’t know how he was able to see but you didn’t think about it too much. Your eyes landed on his body, he was very muscular and you could guess it was because he was swimming nonstop and every day. From what you could tell, he was around your age. Could be a lot older but it was impossible to tell because of the way Beam acted.

There was a distant thought in the back of your mind, something you wondered ever since you met him. What did the person who he took over look like before him? Was he an ordinary office worker? Perhaps a funny guy who worked at a local bar? Or a person who worked several part-time jobs to make a decent amount of money? Whatever he was before, it didn’t matter. He was a fiend now.

The first thing you did was to reach for the plastic bag by the bed and grab the food container. You managed to eat everything inside the lunch box, you didn’t even remember what it was that you ate but you knew it was the most delicious thing in the world at that moment. It was a blessing to finally eat real food, it sort of helped you regain some energy. It wasn't enough to help you recover your strength. You were better, you weren’t sick anymore.

A sudden cramp made you wince, hurriedly you got up to get to the bathroom. On your way, you noticed how damp your bottoms were and you saw blood. Lots of blood. It made you panic even more. You checked your arm, it was-

Fully healed?

Huh?

What was going on?

Were you having your period now? Come to think of it, when was the last time you had your period? Had you been here for a few days, weeks, or months? Things were getting too hazy at the moment. You sat on the toilet to think and avoid bleeding any more into your bottoms. 

This would be a problem. Beam didn’t know about menstruation nor would he be able to bring any pads to help you. Were you going to spend your entire week on this toilet now? Fuck. 

The images of your used pads flashed vividly in your mind. They were right there. He clearly knew what pads were and what they were used for, right? Ugh, what if you had to reuse those pads? 

You gagged at the thought and something fell out of you.

…

You heard it hit the shallow water in the toilet.

What was that?

Standing up after pulling your bottoms up, you stared at the bottom of the toilet. 

Blood.

Flesh.

Flesh?

What?

What was that?

It had a shape, weird. Was that a large blood clot? Was that the piece of flesh you ate? Or something like- WHAT THE FUCK-

You watched the thing move and screamed as you lost your balance and fell on the floor. Beam rushed to your side almost immediately, looking concerned. 

“What? What happened?” he asked, face flushed red as he took in your bloody appearance. He sniffed the air, his concern growing.

You kept stammering, unable to speak, and pointing at the toilet.

Beam’s attention was fully on the toilet as he approached it, there was something off. He was acting weird. Inhuman. Moving strangely too. Like a frightened cat.

When he stood above the toilet, staring down at the bottom, his shoulders slackened with a soft whimper. He whispered something. 

“W-what?” you asked.

He leaned down into the toilet bowl and you let out another scream in disgust. Yet, he seemed unaffected, he reached down and grabbed the thing. He held it so gently in his claws. He turned to you with a frown, lower lip trembling. “Dead,” he whispered. 

“Dead?” you sounded confused. What was dead? What was he talking about? Ugh, why did he have to reach down like that? It was so disgusting. 

“Our baby.”

What?

The sudden realization and shock froze you in place as he loomed over you, his face obscured by the dim light. He held his hand out toward you, showing you the monstrosity. You didn’t speak immediately and instead stared at the weird creature. 

Freak of nature. Not natural at all. Devil-born. Monster.

Have you been eating yourself because of this thing?

The claws of the failure were more visible in Beam’s hand. How could it be this big already? When Beam assaulted you, it was only a few weeks ago. Was it because he was a fiend? 

Did it matter?

“Get that thing away from me,” you spat through your teeth.

Beam’s frown deepened. “You killed it.”

You slapped the hand he was holding towards you in anger, “Get it away from me!”

The bloody thing fell out of his gentle hold, smacked against the grimy tile floor of the bathroom, and bounced somewhere away in a wet plop. Growling in frustration, Beam bared his teeth. 

The inhuman sound he made and the way he slowly moved as if he was a predator ready to pounce on its prey, you knew that he was going to kill you now.

In a single, desperate burst of strength, you kicked on the floor, using it as a springboard and ran out of the bathroom.

He moved faster. You were barely able to make it out of the bathroom when you felt him tackle you on the ground. Wrapping an arm around you, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, where the bite mark was. You felt him roughly tracing over the bite with his lips and licking the wound. You weren’t sure if he was going to rip your throat out but when he pressed himself against your ass and you then had something bigger to worry about. You gasped when the rock-hard erection poked your clothed cunt.

“Stop!” you screamed but he wasn’t being as gentle anymore or listening to you. 

Beam wrapped his arm tighter around you and breathed into your neck. Your hands went to his forearm that was pressing against your chest and his hand that was around your neck, he was keeping you firmly right where he wanted you. With your cheek pressed against the cold concrete, you huffed all the dust, coughing and crying. That fucking thing was right there next to your face too. That bloody thing. Fiend baby.

“Stop,” you managed as he moved his hips to hump you over his clothes. Pressing his mouth next to your ear, he grunted while he aimlessly thrust. You just had to bite it and let him finish humping you because you could never outpower him. As long as he didn’t eat you or kill you. As long as he doesn’t fuck me, you thought. Dry humping was fine even if it hurt because of how desperately he was humping you.

Beam rolled his hips forward in a way that made you conscious of his size, in turn, your body started to heat up. He let out noises that made you feel something. Your chest tightened with each pant and soft moan. You were about to lecture yourself about how you needed to stay sane but the feeling of a cock stretching your pussy threw you out of your thoughts. You hadn’t noticed him take off any of your clothes or his.

A quivering moan left his lips, he had been waiting for this. You mewled in pain as he shoved himself deeper. Your hands went to your groin to try to push him away or pull your clothes up. He slid out of you and thrust into you in full force, forcing a scream out of you while your hands found the waistband of your pants. You realized that you were fully clothed but he still was able to fuck you.

Then you felt tears coming as the realization set in. He was fucking you through the clothes using his ability.

“Ssssstop!” you hissed but he cut you off with his abrupt thrusts. 

“Beam must do this!” he said, his claws digging into your skin and drawing blood. “(name) must have another baby!”

The thought alone made you retch and you struggled even if it hurt your insides. He was continuously fucking you regardless, his pace only got faster as you tried trashing around. It fucking hurt. 

So that was why he hadn’t touched you? Because he thought you were bearing that monstrosity? Did he bring you here to his nest to take care of you? That sick and stupid bastard. Fuck. You wanted him dead.

He moved his arm away from your neck and you took the opportunity to bite his forearm with all your strength. His cock twitched as your teeth drew blood from his forearm. You could taste the fiend’s blood, it tasted saltier, a bit less watery like blood clots. Like a corpse’s. You bit harder in an attempt to stop him but it only made him more excited and his teeth sank deeper into your neck. 

You were the first to stop biting. A pained yelp left your lips.

Beam didn’t waste any more time and mounted you completely while still biting your neck. His cock pounded into your pussy with ease, you weren’t sure if it was because you had been bleeding or not but the gross squelching sounds were echoing in the bunker. It was too much. You wanted this to end. You wanted him dead and-

Beam slammed his hips into you so hard, stealing your breath and the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. 

You couldn’t even finish the thought.

He slammed into you with brute force, tearing a scream out of you. He started to fuck you frantically almost immediately. You could feel the filling pressure in your tummy with every single thrust. Crying under him, you tried to crawl away. You were getting flashbacks of the night he assaulted you back in your apartment and the horrific image of that monstrous miscarriage was enough to make you start screaming. His cock relentlessly slid in and out of your cunt as he shifted his position to put more force behind his thrusts and to effectively stop your squirming and screaming. 

He groaned into your neck when your pussy clenched around him, the way your walls tightened around his cock was almost perfect, the pressure threatened to make him spill all of his seed inside you right then and there but he wasn’t done with you yet. 

Beam fucked you like the animal he was, the perverted fiend was obsessed with breeding you. He had done it once and he would do it again. His pace picked up speed and strength, each thrust was more unforgiving and made you lose yourself. 

“Beam will take care of family. Beam promise!” he could barely speak in between breaths and thrusts as he pulled his mouth away from your bleeding neck. The erratic pace staggered, and he couldn’t keep up anymore. “Our home together forever.”

That was the final nail in the coffin. 

He surged his hips forward, you felt his cock throb as his seed poured from the tip of his cock and into your womb. 

Tears stained your face and his blood in your mouth tasted gross. 

He fucked his cum into you for a few moments longer and his hands petted you over the clothes. When he finally pulled out of you, it was a strange sensation, he phased through all of the clothing and left them soaked in his cum as the bodily fluids gushed out of your pussy and seeped into the fabric. 

Neither of you spoke.

You didn’t move at all and stayed exactly where he left you. 

He phased through the ground and appeared in front of your face with only the top half of his head showing. “Beam go to work,” he said. “Will bring more food later if you be nice.”

With that, he was gone and you were alone with your thoughts and the monstrous failure a few inches away from you.

That thing was the reason why you had ended up here. This place. You could never escape. He was delusional and just so stubbornly stupid. You understood now that he would never let you out of here. He wanted to keep you here like a fucked up housewife. That was what you were to him, right? A mate? A wife? Whatever he thought of you was the only reason why he bothered with keeping you alive. You had to make sure he didn’t change his mind about you or you would rot in here with that devilish spawn in you eating its way out of you.

Yet even if you did everything right and kept him happy, you would always stay a prisoner. Could you call that a life?

There was a small chance that you could get out and you wanted to live until you got that chance.

What if Beam died?

Could Beam die? Makima had mentioned that he was expendable. If he died during a mission then you would never know and rot here without anyone knowing that you were ever here to begin with. He possibly couldn’t die. He wouldn’t die... Right?

In a world where devils existed, God had to exist too. You prayed to God that Beam stayed safe and returned home.

This was your home?

Beam had to return.

He was the only thing that could keep you alive. He was the only thing who could get you out of here. He was the only thing that knew where you were.

If he died then-

You didn’t want to think of the possibility. He was a fiend, he wouldn’t die.

You worked with devil hunters before. They killed devils. 

That made you shiver. All you could do was hope and pray.

Sitting up, you placed a hand on your tummy, if he had claimed you as a mate he would most likely return to take care of you. He had promised to bring you food if you promised to be nice. See, he wouldn’t just leave you to die.

Crawling to a near wall, you leaned back to rest. It happened to be right next to that thing. You stared at it with disgust but your furrowed brows slowly softened when you realized it was practically useless to get mad at something dead. 

You lifted your gaze and stared at the bunker’s ruined door. 

Maybe your only way out was to kill yourself. Your hand went to your arm that you had bit before. The flesh was perfectly healed. Had that spawn given you some of fiend's abilities of healing? If that was what happened then you wouldn’t be able to die. You didn’t bother with killing yourself. At least not yet.

Though a terrible wave of anxiety washed over you. How long had it been since Beam left? Why wasn’t he back yet? Had he left you?

You sat there staring absently at the door. Bottoms soaked in blood and cum, mouth full of fiend blood, and neck bleeding as you waited for Beam to return.

Beam didn’t return.

Tide of Turmoil

Word Count: 4.6K

Warnings: non-con, blood drinking, stalking, obsession, biting

AO3 Link

Keep reading

[witherby]

SORRY IF THIS IS TOO LONG EL forgeting about my last idea since its kind of generic (this one is also but whateverrrrrhahahsg)

so you know Starfire is an alien right?(tamaranean) how about something where reader is a sort of alien too? (x damian too bc im starting to hyper fixate on him) and like they meet as Damian does patrolling/a mission, kind of how Dick and Star met!!

ill leave if up to there and if you like it!! ANYWAY HI EL!!

—🦈

HI SHARKY.

I was gonna finish writing the vampire!Jason prompt but I saw this and immediately fell into a fugue state instead. When I came out, it was with this. I hope you like it 🩷

Flight of Fancy

Damian Wayne x Winged!Reader

Featuring: language barriers (gibberish), a shoulder wound, and a kiss.

It had started out as a routine track-and-report mission. Damian was supposed to investigate the suspicious cargo shipments in Gotham Harbor, try to figure out what was being delivered, and come back to the Cave with his findings.

Tim's bet was human trafficking. Dick's was illegal arms dealing. Jason's was drugs. Damian guessed poaching. Bruce wanted them to stop making bets about what horrible thing of the week was going on and please focus on getting the task done.

(Bruce was just upset that he wasn't allowed to bet anymore because he kept winning.)

As the night drags on and the boredom starts to creep in, Damian wonders if the ship sitting on the loading dock is actually conducting legal business for once. It wouldn't be the first time it's happened, and it would mean less follow-up work to do.

"Red Robin," Damian mutters into his comm, "there's been no activity for three hours. I'm about to declare this endeavor a wasted one and return to base."

"Copy," Tim says in his ear. "There's no spooky stuff happening on the computer, either. Give it ten more minutes and then come back."

"Understood." Damian shifts on his perch — an unsurveilled roof of a tailoring shop — and casts his gaze along the area for the thousandth time that night.

Cold, choppy waters, devoid of any suspicious activity. Dock workers walking around and doing their jobs as they chatter and whistle amongst each other, devoid of any suspicious activity. The cargo ship that docked an hour ago, devoid of any suspicious —

Well. It wasn't suspicious until he realized that the distant ringing he's heard all night wasn't interference from the dinky, little radio one of the workers has been using to blast old, jazzy tunes, but a shrill crying noise coming from the ship. A normal person wouldn't even be able to detect it, but years of training with the League taught Damian to filter and identify any and all noises he picks up automatically.

"Red Robin. I've identified a potential trafficking situation. Stand by."

"Copy. Standing by," Tim says. "Ready to dispatch EMTs on your word and receive that fifty bucks when you get back."

"Yeah, yeah," he grunts, grappling down the building and taking cover in the shadows, maneuvering his way around the harbor men and onto the ship without a sound.

The closer he gets, the louder the crying becomes. He can tell it's just one person making the sound, and that they seem to be locked in one of the titanium crates on the back of the ship. It's child's play to locate the right one and pop the lock open with the small hand laser from his tool bag.

The second it's gone the lid flies open, and Damian gets knocked down by someone he can only describe as ethereal.

You are a collection of stand-out features. Glowing, bright eyes. A wild mane of hair. Well-tailored, form fitting robes. And a huge, breathtaking pair of white wings, that unfurl from your back and shake out into their full width with barely a whisper of sound.

You're bleeding, Damian realizes belatedly. You're bleeding gold. It drips from a wound in your shoulder, running down the sleeve of your robe and soaking the fabric. Small beads trail down your fingertips and stain his chest where you're using your weight to pin him to the ground.

"Whoa," he mutters, because that's the only thing in his mind. Just. Whoa.

You furrow your brow and glare at him, muttering something in a dialect he doesn't understand. The confusion on his face must be evident, because you quickly become frustrated.

"Ira neshmi le-hyr!" You demand, waving the wrist of your other hand in his face, which has a LexCorp-branded tracking bracelet on it. There are faint scratch marks around the skin where you obviously tried to pry the device off.

"Robin? What's the situation? Am I dispatching EMT?" Tim's voice sounds in his ear, startling Damian into taking full stock of the situation again. He blinks a few times, picking up on bootsteps approaching his location, your increasing franticness from where you're knelt above him, and the riskiness of what he's about to do.

"No EMTs," Damian says, reaching for the handheld laser again. He holds it up for you to see, then gestures to your wrist.

You hesitate for only a moment, then offer him your arm and watch him slice the bracelet off and pocket it. With a quick sleight of band, he presses a tracker of his own into the sleeve of your robes, then urges you to get off him.

"Bad people are coming," he says, gesturing to the shadows of figures he can see getting closer. "You should come with me. I can get you somewhere safe."

You stare at him like you don't understand what he's saying. He lets out a frustrated sigh. There's no time for this.

"Me. You. Come with me. That way." He gestures to you, then himself, then points in the direction of the Bat Cave with urgency.

Your eyes dart to where he points, then you nod. He's about to try to figure out how to pantomime you tucking your wings in so you can sneak around better, but you stride forward, wrap your arms around his waist, and use them to take off into the air. Damian clings to you and yelps, drawing the attention of the men on the ship. There's a cacophony of shouting down below that quickly grows faint the farther away you fly.

"The package is escaping!! Someone call the boss!"

"Do we shoot it down?"

"No, you idiot! We need it alive! We'll track it down —"

The rest of their words are lost to the wind. Damian holds onto you with white knuckles and refuses to look down. It's too dark and too smoggy in Gotham to look up at the stars, so the only other thing to observe is you.

If he thought you were stunning on the ground, you're something else in the air. The wind pushes your hair around and out of your face, revealing small markings around your cheeks and eyes. The light your wings catch makes them almost glitter with every beat as you propel the two of you onward. Briefly, you travel over a more illuminated section of the city, which make your eyes look like little constellations.

He's utterly captivated.

"Nirr'm? Luola stesh?" You try to ask him, directing your gaze to him. Damian has no idea how to answer a question he can't understand, so he just points to the ground.

You scan around for a secluded spot to land and gently coast to the ground, setting him down. Damian locks his knees to keep them from buckling and takes several slow, deep breaths.

"I can't understand you," he says after a moment. You furrow your brows again. "And based on your expression, it's vice-versa."

"Robin, come in!" Tim says in his ear, and, oh, he'd forgotten that he stopped responding for ten minutes. "I'm tracking your location and it says you're four miles away from the harbor? What's your status? Do I need to send Batman in for backup?"

"Negative, do not send backup. Don't send EMTs, either."

"You said there was a trafficking situation?"

"Yeah," Damian says, "metahuman trafficking. Don't send anyone until I can figure out how to communicate that they wouldn't be a threat."

"Communicate? What, they don't speak any of the thousand languages you know?"

Damian doesn't respond.

"Oh, shit. Okay. Standing by."

While he'd been talking to Tim, you had inched your way closer and closer to Damian. When he focuses on you again, he almost flinches back after finding you less than a foot away. You perk up when you notice him give you attention and lift your hands up, curling them around his shoulders.

"Um," he mutters, "what are you doing?"

"De-ad'nin," you say, leaning closer. Your eyes don't leave his. "Hmnik?"

"I don't...I can't understand you," he says again. You're waiting for him to do something, he can tell that much. He just doesn't know what you want.

You lean in even more, practically sharing breath. Damian can feel his cheeks warming, but curiosity overwhelms the impropriety, so he doesn't move away. You seem to take this as some sort of permission.

Closing the gap, you press your mouth to his, and Damian freezes.

Soft, he thinks. Your lips are soft. His hands twitch at his sides as he fights the urge to grab your waist, but you have no such reservations as you press yourself practically flush against him and prod at the seam of his mouth with your tongue. A frankly embarrassing whine leaves him, but Damian relents and starts kissing you back with the same level of enthusiasm you show him. Even though his gloves, he can tell that your hair is ridiculously soft as he runs his fingers through it. He's briefly lost in a flurry of sensations, overwhelmed by you, and just when blood starts redirecting itself to other places, you pull away again and clear your throat.

"You helped me," you murmur, slowly and steadily, like you're testing out the words as you say them. "You set me free. Thank you."

"...you're...welcome?" Damian pants, his mind still a little gooey. "Wait, that's English. You're — did you kiss me to learn English?"

"I did," you smile. "I needed to convey my gratitude in your common tongue. I hope I didn't offend you."

Offend was definitely not the word to use. He gently pulls his hands from your hair, but you make no move to separate, so he settles them on your waist instead.

"You're wounded," he says, tipping his head in the direction of your shoulder. The bleeding has slowed, but not stopped. "Let me take you somewhere to get that wrapped."

"Take me where?" You ask. "Not back to the laboratory?"

"No." He doesn't know what lab you're talking about, but he knows he would never willingly put you back in Luthor's hands. "A cave. It has a medical ward where you can have that cut stitched closed."

You seem to give it some thought, idly playing with the hair at the nape of Damian's neck. It takes so much more effort than he anticipates not to melt into it. Your bare skin against his almost burns. You're exceptionally warm, near-feverish.

"Yes," you eventually agree. "You are..." You tilt your head as you search for the right words to use. "Trustworthy. I will go with you there."

Damian relaxes. He presses a finger to his comm.

"Red Robin, send the Batmobile to my location for extraction. I'm bringing the metahuman to the Batcave."

[yoru-exe]

PHAINON ۫ ꣑ৎ woe of a hero

"we were just about to leave marmoreal market when the big bad guys blocked our path. they were everywhere!", the boy recounted his story with so much vigor. thankfully, your young patient didn't move too much for you to attend to his sprained ankle.

under your makeshift medical tent, the wounded were resting as they waited for the heirs to provide their needed assistance managing the damage left by nikador's titankins. a lot of building and materialistic goods were affected, but so far, you've only observed minor injuries.

"but then mr. chartonus came and helped us! i wanted to go back but now that my ankle is sprained..".

"chartonus is in a good state, you have nothing to fear", phainon suddenly appeared behind you, and the boy's eyes widened with delight.

"lord phainon!".

you kept your composure but truth be told, you're as delighted as he was, if not more. you've been waiting all day for your lover to stop by with no avail. part of you were happy that perhaps he's not in any urgent need for your care. another part of you were worried sick if something had happened to him.

the boy and his mother excused themselves right after you completed your treatment to find their savior to thank him. now that you had your attention undivided on phainon, you moved to inspect him. but before you get to do anything, phainon grabbed your face by the chin and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"i wanted to come by sooner. but the market was in a bad shape and i can't just turn a blind eye. tribbie told me you're unharm, but still, i apologise for making you wait".

your legs felt weak. if it wasn't for his strong arms wrapped around your body, you would have fallen. but you managed to shake your head, "i'm glad you're alright".

when you caught what you just said, your attention was pulled back to his state, "did you sustain any injury?". the hero chuckled. he loved how attentive you were to your responsibility even though you could've just bask in each others' presence and forget about the world for a moment.

"i received a few, although nothing too serious. i've patched them up, but it'd be great if you could have a look at the ones on my back. i can't quite reach them by myself". you nodded and rushed to gather a fresh supply of medical equipments. when you returned, your lover was halfway stripping the top part of his clothes, making you jump.

he tilted his head with an unspoken question, and you mentally kicked yourself to recenter your focus on the task at hand.

as you fell into the rhythm of your work, you noticed how phainon had been uncharacteristically quiet. you decided to give him a moment. after all, the holy city that ought to be the safest haven just received a heavy attack. he must be shaken to an extent.

your worry resurfaced when his silence persisted even after you finished. he didn't even notice you've moved yourself to stand in front of him.

gently, you cupped his face in your palms, caressing his skin, careful not to startled him.

"o-oh, hey".

"hey yourself. is everything alright?".

he forced a smile, trying to reassure you that it wasn't concerning enough for you to worry about, but knowing you, you'd probably see pass his deception. he looked away, sighing, "just a few things on my mind".

he stopped himself there, and you took it as a sign that he's not ready to open his worry up to you, yet. it's something you've grown to respect. you couldn't begin to imagine the burden he carries as the prophesised saviour of the world. the least you could do was comfort him, even if just a little bit.

you closed the gaps between the two of you, embracing him close to your heart. "you can confine in me when you're ready. i'll always be here".

he was unresponsive for a moment, letting your words sink in. then, he wrapped his arms around your body. the tightness didn't hurt in any manner, but it's apparent how desperate he was, as if trying not to drown in his own dark thoughts with you as his anchor.

there were a thousand things he could say in reply. he could even began to sing an ode to your love or recite a romantic poem or two (you know by experience he would), but he simply said, "thank you", pressing his face deeper into your embrace. you could feel his lips stretching to form a smile, a peaceful one this time.

your slowly swayed with him still in your hold. relief filled your system to the sound of his laughter which made you smile yourself.

"do you know how much i love you?"

"do enlighten me, if you'd be so kind", you leaned down to meet his lips halfway. this time, he took his time to savour it with only you in his mind.

"i wish i could just stay here", he exhaled. "do you think aglaea will be mad if i'm not out there playing hero?".

"oh i think she'll lose her mind". to that, the both of you shared a laughter.

he excused himself when an elderly women seek your medical assistance, but not before he promised to stop by again later. you watched his wide back, the hero so strong-bodied, yet his heart was so tender. silently, you sent him a prayer for a safe return.

✿ AUTHOR'S NOTE ✿

boy oh boy, this man sure YAPS. anywho, i only managed to watch bits and pieces of the playthrough as of now so please forgive me for any canon details that i missed. i also would like to note that i do not think our beloved snowy is tired of being a hero, just a little overwhelmed at times, so please don't take this too seriously

[elryuse]

jang wonyoung-------- where oc is three years older than wony and have been dating before ive debut but its a secret in the public eye,but then thing happened wony kind of cheated oc finds out about it but he just can't let her goo so he endure at first but then it become worse and then they kind of parted ways even though wony doesnt seem to want to let go of oc.They really cant stay away from each other even though wony and oc parted ways they are still intertwined.Lets say oc is in the palm of wony hands kind of pretty toxic but sweet yeah...

Toxic Till The End

Wonyoung X Male Reader

Disclaimer : Don't Be Toxic Kiddo, :D

You glance at the clock hanging on the wall behind the counter, wiping your hands on your apron as you wait for the next customer. It's early afternoon, a little after lunch, and the regular crowd has started to trickle in. Your café, tucked away in a quiet alley just a short walk from the busy corporate district, has always had a steady stream of customers. But lately, you’ve noticed a particular customer who has caught your attention.

It’s Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung. You’ve known her face for a while, even before she began frequenting your café. As a popular idol, her posters and commercials are everywhere, but the first time she came into your café, it felt different. You weren’t just seeing her through a screen. She was right there, in front of you, asking for a latte with the softest voice.

At first, it was nothing special. Just a polite exchange, like with any customer. You kept your cool, even though you were a little starstruck. But the more she visited, the more those polite exchanges became something more. A smile here, a small compliment there. You found yourself looking forward to the days when she’d step through the door, her eyes scanning the room before they settled on you with a glimmer of recognition.

The bell above the door jingles, and like clockwork, Wonyoung steps inside. She’s wearing a simple, oversized coat and a cap pulled low over her face, but you’d recognize her anywhere. Today, though, something is different. She looks tired, her shoulders slightly slouched, and her usually bright expression is dimmer.

“Hey,” you greet her, offering a warm smile. “The usual?”

She nods, pulling her cap a little lower as she approaches the counter. “Yeah, please. One vanilla latte.”

As you start preparing her drink, you decide to strike up a conversation like you’ve done before. “Rough day?”

She chuckles softly, leaning her elbows on the counter. “You have no idea. It's been non-stop meetings and rehearsals. I just needed a break.”

You hand her the drink, watching her fingers brush against yours as she takes the cup. The small contact makes your heart skip a beat, but you quickly focus back on the conversation. “Well, I’m glad you came here to take that break. The world can wait a little, right?”

She looks up at you through her lashes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, I guess so. This place has kind of become my escape.”

Her words stir something in you. An idol like her, with the entire world watching her every move, finding a sense of peace in your small café? It’s flattering. You lean against the counter, trying to play it cool, but the warmth in your chest is undeniable.

“You’re welcome here anytime, you know that,” you say, your voice dropping slightly. It’s an invitation you’ve given before, but somehow it feels more meaningful now.

Wonyoung sips her latte, the steam rising between you two as she lets out a content sigh. “Thanks. That really means a lot.”

There’s a comfortable silence for a moment, the two of you just enjoying each other’s company. But then, as you’re about to ask her something, a group of fans passing by outside catches your eye. They don’t seem to have noticed her yet, but you know it’s only a matter of time. Wonyoung must sense your unease because she follows your gaze and tenses slightly.

“Do you need to go?” you ask, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

She hesitates, glancing toward the door. “I probably should…”

You don’t want her to leave. Not yet. Not when it feels like you’re finally getting closer. Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “Would you maybe want to hang out sometime? Outside of here, I mean.”

Her eyes widen slightly, surprised by your sudden boldness. You can feel your palms getting sweaty, and you mentally curse yourself for being too forward. But then, to your surprise, she smiles—a real, genuine smile that lights up her face.

“Are you asking me out?” she teases, her tone light but her gaze intense.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “Uh, yeah. I guess I am.”

She looks down at her drink, her fingers tracing the rim of the cup. For a moment, you think she’s going to turn you down, but then she looks up again, her smile still there.

“I’d like that,” she says softly, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “But… we’d have to keep it a secret. My company has strict rules about… well, you know.”

You nod, understanding immediately. Dating an idol? You’ve heard the horror stories of how fans react. But the thrill of the secrecy only adds to your excitement. “I can keep a secret if you can.”

She giggles, the sound like music to your ears. “I guess we’ll see.”

As she stands to leave, you can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline. You just asked out Jang Wonyoung—and she said yes.

“When should we—” you begin, but she interrupts with a sly smile.

“I’ll text you. We’ll figure it out.”

She waves goodbye, leaving you standing behind the counter, your heart pounding in your chest. You watch her disappear down the street, the bell on the door chiming softly as it swings shut behind her.

For the first time in a long time, you feel like something big is about to happen. Something that could change everything.

The days that followed felt like a blur of anticipation. Every time your phone buzzed, your heart would leap, hoping it was her. And then, one night, just as you were closing up the café, her name flashed across your screen.

“Tomorrow. 8 PM. I know a quiet place.”

You read the text over and over, a smile creeping across your face. It was happening. You were actually going on a date with Wonyoung, and no one else knew.

The next day, you close the café a little earlier than usual, making sure everything is perfect before you head out. The nerves hit you the moment you step outside. What would it be like? What would you talk about? But there’s also an excitement bubbling beneath the surface—a thrill you haven’t felt in years.

When you arrive at the spot she mentioned, you’re surprised to find it’s a small, dimly lit park, tucked away from the busy streets. It’s quiet, serene, and the perfect place for two people who didn’t want to be seen.

Wonyoung is already there, sitting on a bench, her face partially hidden by the hood of her coat. But when she looks up and sees you, her face breaks into a smile.

“You came,” she says softly, standing to greet you.

“Of course,” you reply, your voice a little shaky. You try to play it cool, but your heart is racing.

You sit beside her on the bench, the cool evening air wrapping around the two of you. For a moment, neither of you says anything, just enjoying the rare moment of privacy.

“So,” she begins, breaking the silence. “You really weren’t scared to ask me out? Most people wouldn’t dare.”

You chuckle nervously. “Well, I guess I’m not like most people.”

She grins, her eyes sparkling. “No, you’re not. That’s why I said yes.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but feel drawn to her in a way that’s both intoxicating and terrifying. The fact that you’re sitting here, in the dark, in secret, makes everything feel a little more dangerous. But you like it. You like her.

As the conversation flows, it becomes clear that there’s more to Wonyoung than what the world sees. She tells you about the pressures of being an idol, the constant scrutiny, the expectations that weigh on her shoulders. You listen intently, feeling protective over her in a way you hadn’t expected.

“You must get lonely,” you say, your voice soft.

She nods, looking down at her hands. “I do. Sometimes it feels like I’m living two lives—one for the public and one for myself. But the lines get blurred, and I don’t know which one is real anymore.”

You reach out, gently placing your hand over hers. “This is real,” you say firmly. “Whatever this is between us—it’s real.”

She looks up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable. For a moment, you think she’s going to pull away, but then she squeezes your hand, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

“I hope so,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

The warmth of your bond with Wonyoung had grown over the years, weaving itself into every corner of your life. From stolen evenings in the quiet corners of the city to shared laughter over cups of coffee in the dim glow of your café, your relationship had become something sacred. She trusted you, and you loved her with every fiber of your being.

But things started to shift when Wonyoung sat across from you one evening, her face pale and serious.

“I have something to tell you,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

You set down your cup, leaning forward. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated, her fingers nervously tracing the rim of her mug. “It’s… good news, really. But…” Her words faltered, and the worry in her eyes twisted your gut.

“Wonyoung, just tell me,” you urged gently.

“I’m debuting,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and suffocating. You stared at her, trying to process what she’d just said. Wonyoung had always talked about her dreams of becoming a star, of standing on the biggest stages and sharing her talent with the world. You should have been happy for her, proud even. But all you could feel was the growing pit in your stomach.

“That’s… amazing,” you said, forcing a smile.

She smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It is. It’s everything I’ve worked for. But… you know what this means, right?”

Your heart sank. “What are you saying?”

She looked down, her hands gripping her mug tightly. “The company’s rules are even stricter now. I’ll be busier than ever. Training, schedules, promotions… I won’t have time for…” Her voice cracked, and she bit her lip, trying to hold back her emotions.

“For us,” you finished for her, your voice hollow.

She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t what I want, but I don’t have a choice. If they find out about us, it could ruin everything—for both of us.”

You sat back, the weight of her words pressing down on your chest. This was it. The moment you’d feared since the day you started dating her. You knew the risks of being with an idol, but you’d always hoped you could make it work. Now, it felt like that hope was slipping away.

“I understand,” you said quietly, your throat tight. “Your dream has always come first. I don’t want to hold you back.”

She reached across the table, taking your hand in hers. “You’ve never held me back. You’ve been my anchor, my safe place. I don’t want to lose that.”

“You won’t,” you promised, squeezing her hand. “Even if we can’t be together the way we want, I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

Her tears spilled over, and you pulled her into your arms, holding her tightly as she cried. You wanted to believe your own words, but deep down, you knew this was the beginning of the end.

The days that followed were the hardest of your life. Wonyoung’s visits became less frequent, her texts and calls more sporadic. You understood why, but that didn’t make it any easier. You poured yourself into your work, trying to distract yourself from the emptiness she left behind.

Then, one day, the messages stopped altogether.

At first, you told yourself she was just busy. Her debut was approaching, after all. But as weeks turned into months, the silence became deafening. You stared at your phone every night, hoping for a message, a call—anything. But nothing came.

You threw yourself into your café, hoping the familiar routine would keep you grounded. But even there, reminders of her were everywhere. The table by the window where she always sat, the scent of vanilla lattes that lingered in the air—it all made your heart ache.

Your only solace was watching her from afar. You followed her career, watching every performance, every interview, every commercial. She was incredible, just as you always knew she would be. But the bright lights and the adoring fans only reminded you of how far away she was now.

Still, you held onto hope. You told yourself that one day, when the world wasn’t watching so closely, she’d come back to you.

Years passed, and your life settled into a routine. The café grew busier, and you built a reputation for being the cozy little spot that people loved. But no matter how much time passed, Wonyoung was always in the back of your mind.

Every time the bell above the door jingled, your heart leapt, hoping it was her. Every time you saw someone with long, dark hair or heard a soft laugh, you thought of her.

One evening, after closing up, you sat alone in the café, a cup of coffee growing cold in your hands. The dim light from the streetlamps outside cast long shadows across the walls, and the quietness of the night only amplified the loneliness in your heart.

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through old messages from Wonyoung. You hadn’t deleted them, even though it hurt to read them. They were all you had left of her.

“I miss you,” you whispered into the empty room, your voice breaking.

You didn’t know if she’d ever come back. You didn’t know if she even thought about you anymore. But you couldn’t let go. She was your first love, and a part of you would always belong to her.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, you continued to wait. You didn’t know what the future held, but you knew one thing for sure: if Wonyoung ever walked through that door again, you’d welcome her with open arms.

For now, all you could do was hope. Hope that somewhere, in the midst of her glittering, chaotic life, she still remembered the little café where it all began.

The bell above the café door jingled softly as another customer walked in, but your mind was elsewhere. The days had blended into a monotonous cycle—serving coffee, cleaning tables, and quietly hoping. Hoping that one day, Wonyoung would return, her familiar presence lighting up the small café once more.

You told yourself every day that it was foolish. That she had likely moved on, swept away by the tidal wave of her career. But a small part of you clung to the memories, refusing to let go.

Then, one fateful evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, you saw her.

It was a glimpse at first—a flash of her unmistakable silhouette passing by the large window of your café. Your heart leaped, the familiar rush of emotions flooding your chest. Without thinking, you dropped the cloth in your hand and hurried to the door, your pulse racing.

“Wonyoung!” you called out, stepping onto the quiet street.

She didn’t turn around.

You froze, your voice caught in your throat as your eyes locked onto her. She was walking down the street, her delicate figure wrapped in a soft beige coat. But she wasn’t alone.

There was a man beside her, tall and well-dressed, with an air of casual confidence. Wonyoung clung to his arm, her smile bright and carefree. The sight hit you like a punch to the gut.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, watching as she tugged his arm playfully, her laughter floating through the crisp evening air. It was a sound you knew all too well, one that used to be yours. And that smile—the same radiant smile she’d given you on your first date—was now meant for someone else.

Your heart clenched painfully, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Was it just a colleague? A friend? Or… something more?

The rational part of you tried to dismiss it. She’s an idol. She must have many colleagues, right? But deep down, a gnawing doubt began to take hold, and with it came a wave of desperation.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. The image of Wonyoung with that man replayed in your mind like a cruel, endless loop. You tried to push it aside, to reason with yourself, but the knot in your chest refused to loosen.

You kept telling yourself that it didn’t mean anything. That there had to be an explanation. But the doubt lingered, growing stronger with each passing day.

“She’ll come back,” you whispered to yourself as you cleaned the counter the next morning. “She’ll explain everything.”

But she didn’t.

Days turned into weeks, and Wonyoung never walked through your door. You scrolled through her social media, searching for clues, but found nothing. Her life seemed to be as glamorous and untouchable as ever. Meanwhile, you felt yourself spiraling.

Your thoughts became consumed with her. You replayed every moment, every smile, every touch. You clung to the memories like a lifeline, even as they began to feel like a weight pulling you under.

Every night, you prayed silently, your hands clutching your phone as you stared at her name. You prayed that she’d text, that she’d call, that she’d walk through the door with that familiar shy smile.

But she never did.

One evening, as you closed up the café, you found yourself back at the place where you’d seen her with the man. You didn’t even know why you were there, only that you couldn’t stop yourself.

You sat on a bench nearby, staring at the street as if willing her to appear. The desperation in your chest had grown into a hollow ache, one that refused to go away.

“She wouldn’t do this to me,” you muttered under your breath, your hands gripping your knees. “She wouldn’t cheat on me.”

But the memory of her smile—the one she gave that man—gnawed at your resolve.

Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no sign of her. Your friends began to notice the change in you. They asked if you were okay, if something was wrong. But you brushed them off, retreating further into yourself.

Your café became your only refuge, the one place where you could pretend everything was still normal. But even there, the memories of her lingered like ghosts.

Every time the bell above the door jingled, you looked up, hoping it was her. Every time someone ordered a vanilla latte, your chest tightened with longing.

But Wonyoung never came.

The toxic cycle began to take its toll. You stopped sleeping, your nights spent staring at your phone, waiting for a message that never came. You stopped eating, your appetite replaced by a gnawing emptiness that nothing could fill.

Your friends tried to pull you out of it, but their words fell on deaf ears. How could they understand? They didn’t know what it was like to love someone like Wonyoung. To love her so deeply that it consumed you.

“She’ll come back,” you told yourself again and again, your voice growing weaker each time. “She has to.”

But deep down, a part of you knew the truth. You’d seen it with your own eyes. Wonyoung had moved on. She had someone else now.

And yet, you couldn’t let go.

You kept praying, day after day, for her to come back. You told yourself that if you just held on a little longer, she’d walk through the door and everything would be okay again.

But as the weeks turned into months, the hope that had once sustained you began to wither away.

You were losing yourself in the waiting, in the longing, in the toxic spiral of loving someone who no longer cared.

And still, you couldn’t stop. Because as much as it hurt, the thought of letting go hurt even more.

The rain came down in heavy sheets, drumming against the windows of the café as the sky wept its sorrow. You stood behind the counter, absentmindedly drying a mug as you stared out into the gray, dismal street. The café was quiet tonight, save for the occasional rattle of thunder in the distance.

Then, through the streaks of rain on the glass, you saw her.

Your breath caught in your throat as Wonyoung’s familiar figure emerged from the downpour, standing just outside the café. Her hair clung to her face, wet from the rain, and her shoulders trembled as she hugged herself tightly. She looked… broken.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing. This was the moment you’d prayed for countless nights. Yet now that it was here, something inside you felt different.

With a deep breath, you walked to the door and gently pushed it open.

The bell jingled softly, but Wonyoung didn’t move. She stood in the rain, tears streaming down her face, mingling with the raindrops.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice trembling.

You stood there, watching her cry, her words cutting through the sound of the rain. In the past, you would have rushed to her, held her close, and whispered soothing words until her tears stopped. But tonight, something in you had changed.

You stepped aside, motioning for her to come in. “You’ll catch a cold out there,” you said quietly, your tone calm but distant.

She looked up at you, her eyes red and swollen, and hesitated for a moment before stepping inside.

Wonyoung sat at her usual spot by the window, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea you’d prepared without a word. The warm light of the café cast soft shadows across her face, accentuating the sadness in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”

You sat across from her, your expression unreadable. “What exactly are you sorry for, Wonyoung?”

She flinched at the coldness in your tone, her fingers tightening around the cup. “For… disappearing. For not calling. For—” Her voice cracked, and tears welled up in her eyes again. “For hurting you.”

Your heart clenched at her words, but you forced yourself to remain composed. You couldn’t fall into the same cycle again. Not this time.

“Why are you here, Wonyoung?” you asked, your voice firm but not unkind.

She looked up at you, her eyes searching your face for some sign of warmth, of forgiveness. “I missed you,” she said softly.

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. “Missed me?” you echoed, your voice tinged with skepticism. “Or are you just bored?”

Her eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, she was speechless. “How could you say that?”

“Because, Wonyoung,” you said, your voice steady, “you walked away. You left me here, waiting for you, while you moved on with your life. And now, after all this time, you show up out of nowhere, crying and saying you’re sorry. What am I supposed to think?”

She stared at you, her lip trembling. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought… I thought you’d understand.”

“Understand what?” you asked, leaning forward. “That I wasn’t worth even a text? That you could just show up whenever it suited you and expect me to be here, waiting with open arms?”

Her tears spilled over, and she buried her face in her hands. “I didn’t know what to do,” she sobbed. “I was scared. Scared of losing everything.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I understand fear, Wonyoung. But you don’t get to use that as an excuse to treat me like I don’t matter.”

Her sobs quieted, and she looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of guilt and confusion. “You’ve never talked to me like this before,” she said softly.

“Maybe I should have,” you replied. “Maybe if I’d been more honest with you from the start, we wouldn’t be here now.”

The silence between you was heavy, broken only by the sound of rain tapping against the windows. For the first time, Wonyoung seemed at a loss for words.

“You’ve always been there for me,” she said finally, her voice trembling. “Even when I didn’t deserve it. I don’t want to lose you.”

You sighed, leaning forward and resting your elbows on the table. “Wonyoung, this isn’t about what you want. It’s about what’s fair—for both of us. I’ve spent years waiting for you, hoping for something that might never happen. And it’s taken me this long to realize that I deserve more than that.”

Her eyes filled with fresh tears, and she reached across the table, her hand trembling. “Please… don’t give up on me.”

You hesitated, staring at her outstretched hand. Every part of you wanted to take it, to pull her into your arms and pretend everything was okay. But you knew that would only lead to more pain.

“I’m not giving up on you,” you said quietly. “But I can’t keep doing this. If you want me in your life, you need to show me that I matter. Not just when it’s convenient, but always.”

Her hand faltered, and she pulled it back, clutching it to her chest. “I don’t know if I can do that,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

You nodded, your heart breaking all over again. “Then maybe it’s time we stop pretending this can work.”

She stared at you, her face a mixture of shock and devastation. “Are you saying it’s over?”

You took a deep breath, the words catching in your throat. “I’m saying that I can’t keep holding onto something that’s tearing me apart.”

Her tears fell freely now, but she didn’t argue. She simply nodded, her shoulders shaking as she cried.

The rain continued to fall outside as you sat there, the weight of your decision settling over you like a heavy blanket. For the first time in years, you felt a strange sense of clarity.

This wasn’t the ending you’d hoped for, but maybe it was the one you needed.

The days that followed Wonyoung’s tearful return were bittersweet. She seemed genuinely sorry, her apologies heartfelt and tear-streaked. For a while, it felt like things might finally be different. She softened around you, her laughter returning, her gentle touches and warm smiles reminding you of the Wonyoung you had first fallen for.

But as time passed, the cracks began to show again.

It started small—missed calls, vague excuses about her schedule, and moments where she seemed distracted even when she was with you. You told yourself it was fine. That she was busy. That you could be patient.

But then came the nights when she wouldn’t respond to your texts at all. The whispers online about her being spotted with someone else. The photos of her arm linked with another man’s, her smile radiant and carefree, just like it had been the first time you saw her with someone else.

You confronted her one evening when she finally came back to the café, her expression tense but defensive.

“Who is he, Wonyoung?” you asked, your voice quiet but trembling with restrained emotion.

She froze, her eyes wide, then quickly looked away. “It’s not what you think,” she said, her tone evasive.

“Then tell me what it is,” you pressed, your patience wearing thin. “Because this keeps happening, Wonyoung. You disappear, you’re seen with other guys, and then you come back here, apologizing like it’ll make everything okay.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she reached out to you. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered. “You have to believe me.”

You pulled back, avoiding her touch. “That’s what you always say. But you keep doing it.”

She began to cry, her hands trembling. “I love you. I just… I don’t know how to handle everything. The pressure, the expectations. You’re the only thing that feels real, but sometimes it’s too much.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. You wanted to believe her. You wanted to hold onto the idea that she loved you, even if her actions said otherwise.

But the truth was undeniable. This wasn’t love. It was something toxic, something that was slowly destroying you both.

The cycle continued. Wonyoung would vanish for days, sometimes weeks, only to return with teary apologies and promises to do better. And every time, you forgave her.

You hated yourself for it. Hated how weak you felt, how easily you crumbled under the weight of her tears and her soft words. But no matter how much it hurt, you couldn’t let her go.

Until one night, when everything came crashing down.

You’d seen her again, smiling and laughing with someone else. The sight was like a knife twisting in your chest, and for the first time, something inside you snapped.

You went home that night and stared at your phone, the screen glowing with her name. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of anger, sadness, and despair.

Finally, you began to type.

“Wonyoung, I can’t do this anymore. You’ve hurt me too many times, and I can’t keep pretending that this is okay. I love you, but I need to love myself more. Goodbye.”

Your thumb hovered over the send button, your chest tightening. You knew this was the right thing to do, but it felt like tearing a piece of your soul away.

With a deep breath, you pressed send.

The message delivered instantly, the small checkmark mocking you as you stared at it. And then, you turned off your phone, the weight of your decision crashing down on you.

The days that followed were a blur of pain and emptiness. You tried to focus on the café, on the simple routines that had once brought you comfort. But everything reminded you of her—the scent of vanilla lattes, the sound of the bell above the door, the corner seat where she used to sit.

And then, one evening, your phone buzzed.

You hesitated, your heart racing as you stared at the screen. It was her.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”

You closed your eyes, the familiar ache in your chest returning. You knew you shouldn’t reply. You knew this was just another loop, another step in the endless cycle of pain and forgiveness.

But even as you told yourself to ignore it, your fingers betrayed you, typing a response before you could stop them.

“I’m here.”

You hated yourself for it. Hated how easily she pulled you back in, how much power she had over you. But deep down, you knew the truth.

You and Wonyoung were toxic. You hurt each other, over and over, and yet you couldn’t let go.

Because no matter how much it hurt, no matter how broken it made you feel, you still loved her.

And some part of you always would.

[sccrim]

warnings ( masturbation , cheating , mentions of oral fem )

your best friends with nanamis wife. & well, he had other thoughts about you then just simply a friend.

part two

you are best friends with nanamis wife. you moved in with them for a while due to your home getting renovated. you were gonna stay at gojos house but your best friend insisted.

as days went by, nanami started paying attention to you. what you wear outside the house, around the house, what you eat, and so forth.

he also noticed you always stayed in your room half the day until the evening or even the whole day. you weren't uncomfortable in the house hold. you just did your work there.

and what i mean is your onlyfans. nanamis wife knew you did that, i mean she is your best friend. nothing wrong with that. it was a side hustle for you especially with your house getting worked on.

nanami decided to stay home for the day while you and his wife went to run a few errands and by that it was getting your nails / toes done. going to target, etc. it was a nice day to be out and you guys didn't want to miss the chance.

nanami walked down the hall to see your room door cracked open. he was going to shut it until he decided to peek a bit. shame on him but hey he was curious. he walked inside and seen how your room was set up. he was honestly shocked how your room wasn't as dirty as he thought it would be since everytime his wife got ready the room would be a mess. full of make up everywhere and clothes.

he saw your laptop screen open and unlocked. notifications kept popping up. ding, ding. he knew this was bad but he was so curious. he saw the website was on only fans. "hm." he whispered to himself scrolling away to see how much money people were paying.

"what do you do y/n." he questioned, seeing little posts of pictures and clips.

nanamis face burning up from seeing a clip of you playing with your pussy. the corner of his eye he could see a pink lingerie set hanging on your chair.

nanami could feel the guilt hit the back of his throat. gulping the guilt knowing that if he looked down, his boner trying to get out his pants. he still scrolled though. curious and curious of what other things you had going on. "fuck." he whispered.

scrolling as he stopped to see a video of you and some other chick that looked exactly like his wife, making out with you. he fully clicked the video to see it was exactly his wife.

what he didn't know was that while he went on a business trip with gojo. his wife and you made a video of doing each other. his wife needed the money and well you knew it would create good content. nanami didn't feel so guilty anymore. both basically cheated on each other.

nanami couldn't help but stare at the video in pleasure to see his wife eating your pussy. the way your best friend was rubbing her clit while eating you out. nanami listening to the way you guys moaned for each other. nanami checking his wife's location to see where they at. you guys where about an hour away. which was good for him.

the blonde man took off his belt and unbutton his pants. pulling his dick out. nanami spitting on his hand and pumping his dick. he watched as you now began eating out his wife. he didn't know rather to be mad that his wife was cheating on him or that you were fucking her. "fuck." he sunk on the chair. watching you two now scissor each other.

nanami wanted the both of you. he wanted to fuck the shit out of you while you ate out his wife. he wanted both of you guys sucking his dick. this was every man's dream and nanami just got front row seats.

nanami moaning seeing you suck on his wife breast. he began to whimper coming to his climax. he hears you tell his wife your about to cum and his wife the same. nanami pumping faster. him hearing your guys moans and see your bodies shake made him release his cum too. him trying to catch his breath.

nanami hurrying up to clean himself and out everything back the way he found it. closing your door and going into his room.

"honey, we’re home."

ps. lwk was thinking of doing a part 2 of like a three some but then idk💔

 sccrim — all rights reserved. please do not modify, repost , translate , or plagiarise my content.

[jjscrybaby]

hi I was wondering if you could do a dad!JJ fic, reader and each other's first and only loves, and just write whatever honestly I just crave dad!JJ he's so yum

jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (dad!jj, mom!reader, just cutesy tbh.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The house was eerily silent as you stepped inside, kicking your heels off and sighing in relief. You had had your first night out since the baby was born, six months of mommy duties and tonight you’d finally been able to go out with Sarah and Kie and have a few drinks. You’d lasted until 10, and then the exhaustion and homesickness hit you and you’d made your way home.

“JJ?” You called out softly, it wasn’t like him to go to bed early but he was nowhere in sight.

You made your way up the stairs, popping your head into your bedroom; he wasn’t there. There was only one other place he could be. You stopped in the doorway to the nursery, grinning to yourself at the sight in front of you. JJ was sat in the rocking chair, eyes closed and mouth parted as he snored quietly, your little baby girl was laid on his chest fast asleep herself with his hands supporting her tiny frame.

The urge to snap a picture was strong, but you were too late. JJ stirred, blinking himself awake as he looked around the room in confusion. He checked she was still on his chest, safe and sound, before looking over to you with a soft smile.

“Hi, baby. Good night?” He asked tiredly, carefully standing up.

“It was good,” you murmured, watching as he laid her down in her crib and walked towards you. His arm wrapped around your waist, leaning down to peck your lips.

“What time is it?” He questioned, the two of you walking away to not wake the sleeping child.

“Half ten,” you replied.

He let out a hum, following you into the bedroom. “Figured you’d be back a little later. You didn’t have to come home, we were all good. Did you get my pictures?”

“I got them,” you giggled. He’d kept you updated the entire night, sending you messages of every little thing your daughter was doing. “I wanted to come home. Missed you guys.”

“We missed you,” he smiled softly, getting into bed as you changed out of your dress. You got in beside him, head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped around you. “How did we become the boring ones?”

“We’re not boring,” you argued, swatting at his chest.

“It’s half ten and we’re in bed,” he snorted, running his hands up and down your back. “Not sayin’ it’s a bad thing, just never thought I’d see the day that Pope goes out more than me.”

“I made an honest man out of you,” you teased, looking up at him. He smiled down at you, nodding his head.

“Damn right,” he murmured in agreement, leaning down to lock his lips with yours.

You didn’t really care if your friends thought you were boring, maybe you were a little, you could live with that as long as you had your family.

[carlosainzgf]

Hiiii i love ur writing sm!!!! Can u write a kang dae ho x reader where we had Dated before the games but broke up because of our depts. And we meet again in the games and he was heart broken to see reader there and reader had been ’rude’ (not mean or anything but telling him they dont need his help etc) but after reader had seen how he acted with player 222. They got sad (jealous?) because they thought that they had something going on between those two. But after a near death experience reader Seeks for dae ho’s comfort and he makes sure reader is okay and comforts them. SORRY IT THIS IS CRINGE BUT I HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO GET THIS OFF MY MIND AND I CANT WRITE SHIT💔💔💔😔😔😔

the irony of fate

kang dae ho x reader (fluff)

(the words in a different font are throw backs)

the silence in the room was frightening. the metal beds, lined up in precise rows, offered little solace after the chaos of the first game. you fell onto one of the mattresses, exhausted, your breathing still uneven. the memory of the sharp sound of gunshots tormented you. as you massaged your temples, someone occupied the bunk in front of you. you didn't look up, too focused on calming your nerves, until you heard a familiar laugh, sarcastic and full of that carefree tone you always hated.

"well, this is quite a romantic meeting, don't you think?"

you raised your head. there he was, dae-ho, sitting on the bed with one leg crossed over the other, his long black hair as messy as ever, it was just longer than the last time you saw him. his eyes glittered with a mocking spark, and the crooked smile that you knew so well was there, intact.

“no way,” you murmured.

the last time you saw him, things ended badly, very badly. and now, after years of trying to bury it in your memory, it has appeared here, in this nightmare of a place.

“i can’t keep living like this dae ho!” you yelled. “i tried, i really did, but…i can’t anymore. we’re not good for each other. all we’ve been doing is fight for the last few months!”

“you’re giving up on us?” he sounded hurt.

“im not ‘giving up’ dae ho! i tried. it’s not working.”

and you haven’t seen him ever since.

you didn’t wanna break up but you had to. you were both so deep in depth. you both lived constant fear of being found by the people you owed money to. lots of money. the stress of you two brought both you down. you weren’t happy. all you did was fight. you didn’t spend time with each other due to working many jobs. you didn’t make love due to tiredness. you didn’t care for each other like you always did.

the break up took a toll on him. he wasn’t himself anymore. he fell apart after losing you. and he hated you for it. deep down he knew it wasn’t your fault but he couldn’t help it.

“come with me. i found a group of people to stick to. you’ll be safer.” he was still the old caring dae ho deep down. he will always care for you and you knew it.

“no thank you. i can take care of myself.”

“please stop being arrogant for once!” he said a little bit louder.

“i said no! don’t act like you care about me.” you turned your back to him, signaling for him to leave. he looked at your back for a few seconds but decided to leave. he knew how stubborn you could be.

───୨ৎ─── ───୨ৎ─── ───୨ৎ───

your eyes somehow looked for dae ho at every game, making sure he was alive. but every time you looked for him, he was with this girl.

she was short, pretty, around the same age as you. she always kept a hand on her stomach. she was pregnant, you figured.

dae ho always kept a hand on her shoulder or her back, supporting her and looking out for her. you couldn’t help but feel jealous.

did they have something between them? were they dating? was that his baby? did they join the game together? questions occupied your brain.

you soon snapped out of when your thoughts were interrupted by the mechanical voice, explaining the game.

mingle.

first round was ten people. a purple haired man pulled you into their group before you could look for another team to join.

the man was reckless. his pupils were dilated, he was weirdly jolly. he was high. but he had saved you. he kept talking about how you were beautiful as a flower and constantly flirted with you even when gunshots were blaring your ears. he didn’t let go of you when you left the room. he kept you by his side during other rounds.

until it was time to get into groups of four. you didn’t even have time to figure out what was happening when he kicked you in the gut and you fell to the ground, harshly. you couldn’t breathe. it was like all the oxygen left your lungs by how hard he kicked you. panic consumed you.

you couldn’t move. couldn’t yell. then your eyes met dae ho’s. he was about to go in to a room, and save himself when he saw you.

he didn’t think. not even for a second. he didn’t hesitate. he just ran.

10, 9, 8

he ran for you. he picked you up from the ground.

7, 6, 5

he was looking through rooms, trying to find where there were two people inside to make a group of four.

4, 3, 2

he was almost sure you both were going to die. but he didn’t mind. he would be gone with you in his arms. for him, to die by your side would’ve been a heavenly way to die.

just when he had accepted his faith someone pulled you both into a room with them. gi hun and young il.

1, 0.

gunshots once again filled your ears. dae ho sat you both to the ground and started asking if you were hurt. panic in his eyes, trying to make sure you were okay.

you didn’t answer. just grabbed his face and placed a longing kiss to his lips. it didn’t feel foreign. it felt like home.

tears ran down your face as you kissed. dae ho pulled away, wiped the tears away and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“don’t ever leave my side again. okay?”

“okay.”

gi hun and young il watched the interaction, confused, as you hugged each other, pulling the other impossibly closer, mumbling loving words, telling one another how much you missed each other and how nothings the same without them.

who knew such a place would bring you back to each other. what an irony of fate.

𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯

i loooved this req! please send moree 🫶🫶

-love, a.

[lizziiszs]

deep and deprived - hiori yo

ʚ｡. mdni - nsfw, hiori yo/fem!reader .｡ɞ

content warning!:

-explicit mention of previous self-harm and insecurity surrounding it (thighs-specific)

-character is aged up. context is right after the u20s match but please note that i’ve written hiori as older as i find it more fitting (before the nel ‘ultra-sadist’ reveal).

[disclaimer: i am in no way promoting or romanticising sh, this is just me seeking comfort, projecting and making light of previous, personal experiences].

-ʚ｡. ✮✩✮.｡ɞ-

a/n!: so where do i start..a-levels are frying me. i have a combination of over 6000 words due for various subjects and tasks and i choose to spend a combined like 12 hours writing 2000 of hiori yo smut. and id do it again in a heart beat. im beyond ashamed of myself for even typing this out, enjoy x

um omg his southern accent was tough to write too...like hiori yer so fuckin hot ya really are but please speak normally ashshhsghgsdhga

overview: you and hiori have finally gotten round to going further- the only thing stopping you before is a huge insecurity: you’re self-conscious of your scars so its no surprise that you’ve kept it all a secret. you’re quick to find, however, that hiori likes them (and a little too much). 

contents: praise, first time (not inexperienced but w hiori), dacryphilia, brief thigh-fucking/jerking off with your thigh, oral sex, mutual masturbation, hiori jerks off with your panties, edging/subtle orgasm denial, pet names (angel, baby, pretty), slight voyeurism (not public), messy sex, arousal from guilt/shame, sadistic hiori <3

w/c: 2.1k

-ʚ｡. ✮✩✮.｡ɞ-

a glorious victory against the u20s, tides turning within the final minute. stadium roaring, cameras flashing, your bodies pressing against each other, the door of his locker rattling even as his teammates stand audible from round the corner. the final score? 4:3. that's why he's set on it being tonight. and so are you, despite the way that your body retracts beneath his right hand that weaves its way down your back. your feel your entire self lock up as his left hand inches up your thigh. 

this was something you'd had wanted and for so long- and more than anything. its not like you were afraid of intimacy. yet some lingering doubt pushes its way into your conscience; the state of your thighs with those marks plastered all over them. impulsive, fleeting moments of affliction- the blade in your phone case- its a bitter, somewhat suppressed memory that returns to you all at once, surging to the surface of your skin which stings hot beneath his touch. 

'hiori, it's all ugly.' your voice wavers as you place your hand over his, a pitiful attempt at diverting his attention. hiori doesn't move though. instead, he looks down at you, vacant eyes burning wide. 

'yer so pretty though...' hiori mindlessly slurs his words of endless praise together, the gaze of piercing but somehow empty eyes fixated on yours. you can’t even begin to imagine what you look like right now, and its best that you don’t. its difficult to decipher that anyways from the expression hiori makes before you sharply inhale, wincing as gentle fingers brush up against thin, raised scars. you avert your eyes away from his wandering hand and back up against the door, hiori stumbling forwards as you do. 

'careful hiori…’ you feel the heat of your own breath, lips resting no more than an inch from his head. delicate fingers trace up and down your inner thigh as he peppers quick kisses along your collarbone. you return the favour and press a quick kiss atop his head, a decisive move- you're aching with longing and you have to get over yourself. 

'i wanna do it,' kiss. 'now, yocchan.' 

‘sure, angel?’ hiori's fingers continue to traipse around your body, amorously undressing you and immediately upon a low ‘yes’ parting from your lips. his once wandering hands now pulling at the straps of your cami and tugging at your skirt. he kisses and he suckles as he mumbles incoherently about how beautiful you are, softly grinding against your thigh which he praises as ‘so fuckin’ hot’. the thighs you were so resentful of; a living reminder of how it'd be such a sick coping mechanism you'd turn to when distressed. the depravity of seeking respite in something so immoral, inflicting physical pain to yourself- it fills you with shame. and with those same, filthy legs you press against hiori, who’s precum begins to dribble down your ‘perfect’ thighs. 

'god yer fuckin' gorgeous, aren't ya?' hiori breathes through a kiss against your collarbone which sits prettily painted with small bruises, hand wrapping around himself as he's almost moaning, pressing it into your thigh for more relief. ‘whatcha think baby?’ 

‘i’m not sure yocchan,’ your speak quietly, admittedly, distracted by the way that he’s sweet-talking you whilst he starts to jerk off with your thigh, practically fucking it. he’s far too stubborn to ask you to bring your weak knees together, only envisioning making the flesh of your legs tremble with his every movement as they take his desperate cock that pulses against you, longingly. he imagines the lewd sounds he’d draw from you amidst sloppy, desperate kisses, long and pretty nails scraping down his back as you attempt to stabilise yourself- your entire being shaking and shuddering violently beneath him as you finally take him whole. maybe you’d muffle your moans as you weep, distressed and embarrassed as he stuffs and stretches you so. or maybe you’d beg him to go faster and harder, mocking him for being so damned slow, pace far too underwhelming and pathetic. maybe you wouldn’t even let you fuck him before cumming first- maybe you needed his head between your legs, tending to your neglected cunt before he even gets to think of it. 

‘fuck i betcha even taste as good as ya look,’ hiori rambles over and of his feverish thoughts, all whilst pumping himself between his own fist and your thigh, picturing you. ‘i wanna know whatcha taste like.’ 

and its hard to recall what happened in-between but he’s kneeling expectantly before you, backing you up against the door and fully. hiori makes light work of prying your legs open and his pretty hands remain gripping your lower thighs as he pushes his face against your pretty laced panties- the only thing you have on. and it makes you shiver at the sight- your body bare, every inch exposed visible under dim light with pebbled nipples and small gashes to your thighs on full display. and it gets hiori off; watching you tremble, vulnerable just from being seen. he can’t stop his mind from getting ahead of itself, train of thought interrupted by your sudden whinging. 

'yocchan it's not fair, you're still dressed.' 

‘i can’t be asked pretty,’

‘hioriii..’ you whine, embarrassed. and you’re ashamed that this feeling has you sopping wet. it turns you on, having your delicate, doll-like body in full-view. it’s how you gulp as both sinful and lustful eyes wander all over, admiring how your nipples harden against cold air, still waiting to be attended to and  how the lace waistband of your sheer panties which sit stained in your arousal, cling to your hips

'come on then,’ he sounds somewhat inviting through that slight smirk as you both exchange eyes, ‘undress me too.’ 

‘fuck!-‘ you jolt as hiori licks a sudden stripe onto your panties, the hand you have wrapped in his hair fully yanking at it. your nails pry into his scalp as you cry out in ecstasy. 'if you wanna, that is.' he pushes his tongue teasingly up and against your slit- still clothed. he makes you shudder; wet and warm saliva seeps through thin fabric, mixing with your arousal that soaks through. hiori presses his nose against your clit, hoping that the next time your body jerks under his touch, your nails draw blood.

‘hah-ah…hiori..’ the friction between your panties that sit sticky with sweat, saliva and your slick is too much to bear yet its nowhere near enough- you buck your hips up against hiori's nose and into his head all in one decisive motion, hands entangled in his hair, tugging at it in order to take his numb face fully. he fucks you with his tongue, movements quick as he laps up at the both of your arousal, suckling at your throbbing clit which sits soaked in his spit between sloppy kisses to your cunt. its only when you blurt something about being close that hiori pulls away and looks up at you, panting as he shifts his weight and adjusts himself. 

‘yocchan..’ your body scrapes against the door frame as your legs finally give out, shaking. hiori's quick to tug at the waistband of your panties with his teeth, firm hands making light work of his boxers which now lie discarded round his ankles. 

you’re still coming down from your high that you never reached, eyes about as wet as you are, tainted by arousal. 

‘i just wanna come yocchan,’ you whisper, ashamed. maybe you should've actually fucking come and faster. hiori doesn’t respond but seemingly grows impatient, using his hands to pull your panties off entirely too. his now free lips plant small, comforting kisses on your thighs which are still laced in his precum;  although there’s nothing comforting about a ruined orgasm. ‘hiori, come on…’ you’re quick to find that you’re now begging him for more; to finish. each whine that trails off grants you more unwanted kisses against your fucking thighs as your neglected cunny aches at the ruin of your orgasm. it feels humiliating with your body bare, drenched in sweat, saliva, precum and your own arousal which dribbles onto the floor you weakly sit against. ribcage juddering with each weak breath you take, head pulsing and salt-ridden tears welling up in your eyes. you look at yourself, overcome with shame which has your entire self pleading for more. and that’s when you notice. he’s fucking himself with your panties. 

and you watch as he rocks forwards onto his knees, touching himself as he brings himself to kiss you whilst moaning your name. you feel so dejected yet you kiss him back, wholeheartedly. it's sick as he jerks off with your panties, smeared in your shared arousal- pre streaming down the hand which works his swollen tip with your laced cloth. he’s so enjoying this, seeing you ruined before you've even cum once. 

‘touch y’rself,’ hiori blurts, ‘go on, pretty.’ he’s as desperate as you are. hiori presses two wet kisses onto your lips before you even have time to consider. ‘i betcha sound good…’ 

you don’t consider and you just do. three fingers to your clit as you whine in defeat. 

'i can't make myself cum.' rough, messy circles which graze your swollen self again and again and again provide no relief, drowning in sharp pangs of jealousy that wash over you as you watch hiori, eyes rolled back as he groans your name. languid almost lazy strokes as he grinds his sensitive tip into torn, expensive lace. dismissing you entirely. he'd only brought you close to orgasm in order to better reach his own; the idea of denying you making him fucking throb.

‘suit yerself.' he murmurs, pace increasing with every cry he draws out of you. 'yocchan please', 'c'mon handsome'.

and you’re reminded of those tears well up in your glass eyes; as vacant as his and in need of nothing but respite. pleasure and pain bleed into one as you start to sting under your fingertips. you throb too, the sight of hiori fucking his fist and your pretty panties; how he bites his lip as he watches you grind against yourself, begging for him to spare you just a finger. he fixates his eyes on your own as well as your thighs, shamelessly aroused by your distress and your anguish. thin streams of tears begin to drip down your face, mindless pleas interjected by uncontrollable sobbing. wet lashes and wide, pleading eyes beckoning to hiori as he comes undone, your eventual tears finally pushing him to orgasm. you watch as his body convulses, the way in which hot ropes of his cum spurt out onto your panties and dribble all down his hand that helps him ride out his orgasm. he moans something about how he loves you, too.  

'y'r too good for me,’ it takes a while but hiori finally comes down from his high, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his jersey. his jersey that clings to the sweet sweat of his now flushed pale skin, name proudly pressed to his back as the only item of clothing left that’s left untouched by the both of you. ‘fuck that was so good.' a sickeningly sweet smirk pressed onto thin lips which so lovingly coo at you; 'good girl.'

'i hate you.'

[revelboo]

Hi Revel! Not a request or anything but I just wanted to send in an ask telling you how much I appreciate your works! There’s such variety to choose from and I’m constantly impressed with the storylines that you craft and everything you come up with! I love how much you’ve thought about each character and it really shows in your work. For example, you’ve gone into little bits here and there about how each of your Starscreams’ are different and you are just superb at showing it! (Your take on Armada Starscream is my absolute favorite!!) It’s really inspiring honestly and makes me want to get back into fanfiction again. I can’t tell you how much I look forward to checking your blog each day and seeing what you’ve been up to! Also your blog is so accessible! I cannot imagine all the links you have to put in and kept up with but I’m so grateful for it! Ah, sorry for the rambling but I hope life treats you well. :^] <3

Here’s a silly little photo for you! He is so little <3

Thank you! I’m glad you like my nonsense and go out there and write the things you love! 💕

Bee’s just a tiny bab.

Even If It Kills Me Pt 14

Armada Starscream x Reader

• Head lifting from where you’re idly drawing on his datapad, you go still at the smell of food. Actual, hot food not chips or cookies. And Runway chirps holding up a brown paper bag. Watching the other two try to seize it from him before Starscream huffs through his vents and picks you up to set down on the floor with the mini-cons. “How did you get fast food?” You ask as Runway pushes the bag in your hands and then drapes himself against your back when you sit crosslegged on the floor and open it, the other two creeping closer and openly curious.

• Wings lifting and falling as he retrieves an energon cube for himself and smaller ones for the mini-cons and joins you on the floor, he watches you remove little wrapped packages from the bag. “The mini-cons found it,” he says and you shoot him a look. “A human set it on an outdoor table in the park and Runway snatched it,” he admits with a grimace. You don’t look angry, though as you grab a fistful of little yellow sticks and shove them in your mouth, eyes closing. Watches Sonar and Jetstorm lean over to vent curiously, recoiling when you offer them a bit. “They can’t eat that. Unless you want them purging on you later.”

• “Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper to the mini-cons and Runway affectionately butts his helm against you before seizing one of the mini energon cubes Starscream is holding out for them. Because you’ve been wanting real food rather than the junk food Star keeps bringing you. Know he’s trying his best, keeps stealing things for you and he’s been working on something lately in a corner of his habsuite, the paneling of the wall and floor pulled up over there. Not sure what he’s up to since he gets flustered when you ask, making you think it has to do with you.

• “I’ve told you that you don’t need to thank me or them for that,” he mutters before taking a deep drink. Aware of you grinning up at him before you turn your attention back on the food, eating much quicker than you normally do to make him feel guilty. Because he’s almost certain he’s doing a terrible job caring for you and you’re just too nice to say anything to him. You seem happier at least with him. When you have your nightmares and he remembers the bruises on your face when he’d found you, the resignation, he thinks about returning to that home he’d found you at. Wanting to find whoever scared you so bad you still can’t shake the fear. Knows he’ll likely never be able to get revenge on his tormentor, but he could remove yours from the face of this world. But if he does and you ever find out, you may not look at him the same way anymore and he can’t risk that. Wants you to keep smiling for him. To be worthy of your trust.

• “I know,” you say, looking up to find him frowning at nothing like he sometimes does. That little show and tell of scars was the most he’s let his guard down and had been enough to understand that he understands you, because he’s suffered at someone else’s hands, too. That he’s been through not exactly the same thing, but something similar enough and he’d not been completely broken by it helps you keep smiling for him. He’s gruff and awkward, but he’s kind. And you want to protect him and that kindness, because it means everything to you.

Previous

[kooggukk]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 BEYOND THE JOB // JJK

daddy jungkook (literally)

; babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)

— 1/??

“seriously though, you have to fuckin’ quit that job already.”

Sasha, who happens to be your best friend ever since you started working at the local elementary school, just lectured you again. she was already teaching there when you arrived, you spent your lunch breaks with her and even be each other’s substitute sometimes.

surprisingly, she quit a few months after that. you stayed close though. at first, she was dying to know the drama happening among the teaching staff, but as shit kept going down which included you and the principal, all you ever hear from her is that you need to quit.

it wasn’t a huge surprise to her when you first told her your boss, aka the school’s principal, asked you out. it was weird, but everyone knew he was.. a little desperate. he had asked most of the female teachers out, some who agreed could only say bad things about the experience.

you declined his offer politely, explaining that you don’t want your personal life to mix with your job. it was awkward after that, but turns out he seems to be the dumbest person on earth. he asked you out two weeks after that, again.

still to this day, he keeps asking you out over and over and you keep rejecting him over and over again. sure, he got a lil’ crush on you, sweet, right? fuck no. he’s a pervert, doesn’t know what personal space is.

“but i need the money. i don’t know where else i could get such good salary.” you told her, for the nth time.

“be a stripper,” Sasha casually said, sipping on her diet coke while your eyes widened.

“don’t say nonsense, dafuq..” you both shared a giggle, but you definitely won’t put that job idea on the bottom of your list. maybe in the middle, or top 5. if you really can’t find a good place, then gotta be top 3.

“you could be one until you save enough money, then look for a less crazy one.”

“there’s never enough money, sasha.” you sighed, fuck inflation. when you grew up and finished studying, you realized the hardest part of being an adult was money. it’s crazy how difficult it is to make a living.

“if you don’t give in your quitting notice tomorrow, i’m gonna do it for you instead.” she narrowed her eyes at you.

“i don’t want to make a decision too quick. not until i know i can find another job.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

…

“okay.”

she squealed in her chair, gaining some attention on the two of you.

“if you dare to lie to me right now, i’m gonna make you eat your own shit.”

you kicked her under the table, sending her a glare. “behave, bitch.”

┈ ⪩⪨   ┈

“oh, __! what brings you here today?” your boss, sehun immediately stood up from his chair, ready to greet you with a hug.

panicking, you reached your hand out with a paper, catching his attention. “this is..?”

“my resignation notice, sir.”

“your what?”

he took the paper from your grip, examining it carefully. his eyebrows fell together, eyes scanning every single word.

he backed up, resting on the edge of his table. he looked at the paper again, rereading the first sentence.

‘Kindly accept this letter as my formal resignation…’

“are you sure, __?” he asked, putting the paper on his table. he crossed his arms, frustration written on his face.

you fixed your hair, giving him a firm nod. “yeah, i’ve been thinking of it for a while now.”

“i’m glad i could be a part of this amazing team, but i just feel like,” you struggled to find the words, obviously you didn’t want to tell in his face.

‘aye bruh, stop bein’ a pervert and you might stop losing your workers’

“look, teaching isn’t my thing. and i feel horrible to find that out so late.”

“well, if your passion for teaching ever comes back, you’re more than welcomed here.”

“thank you,” you smiled, because even though he’s the most annoying person you’ve ever met, your co-workers have always been kind to you.

the children also love you, and you’re extremely thankful for all the support and love you got from everyone.

during the usual lunch break, you co-workers heard the news too. they all wished you the best with a hug, some getting emotional too.

officially, this was your last week working at the school.

when you got home, sasha sent you a link to an advertisement.

‘looking for a nanny’

you laughed, dialing her contact. didn’t take her long to answer, obviously. she’s always on her damn phone, even when working.

“you can’t be serious. a nanny?” you laughed, finding the idea of you with a kid ridiculous.

“have you seen the description? girl, they pay damn well!” she said, followed by her exhaling.

“didn’t you say you’re gonna stop smoking?”

“i stopped. for three hours.”

you shook your head, putting her on speaker as you clicked the advertisement.

“fifty thousand won?” you blurted out loud, “a day?!” sasha hummed on the other side of the call.

“told ya’..”

“that’s.. nice. woah, yeah, nice.” you mumbled as you continued to read the requirements and some important details about the job.

“give it a try.” sasha said, but your eyes caught a sentence.

“they want someone with experience, as expected.” you let out a long sigh and fell back on your bed.

“you got the experience.”

“me? sasha, i never looked after a kid-“

“you work with kids. first and second graders. and they all fuckin’ love you.”

“that’s different.” you groaned.

“it’s not. a kid is a kid. 3 year olds are just as damn annoying as 7 year olds. prove me wrong..”

you laughed, she was right. they can be a huge pain in the ass, but they have the purest soul.

“true.”

“give it a try, __.” she said again, calling you by your name. oh she’s serious serious.

“yeah, i might call tomorrow then.”

“might? no, you will.” she corrected you and you rolled your eyes.

“sure.”

you called them the next day after considering it for half a day, being the typical embarrassment, you called at the wrong time.

the man was in a hurry, so you both just quickly agree on a time to meet in person. that happened to be the day after.

you looked at the address one more time after you got off the bus, realizing it was more of a wealthy neighborhood. you only had to walk about 5 minutes until you got there, hesitantly but you pressed the bell.

a tall, young man opened the door. his skin is smooth and fair, almost perfect. his hair dark, slightly wavy which was styled in a mullet cut, longer at the back.

his choice in clothes seemed to be rich, a white ribbed polo shirt with short sleeves, causing your eyes to drop to his sleeve tattoo in a second. he paired it with black tailored trousers.

“hey, you must be __?” he asked with uncertainty and you came back to life, smiling to him.

“yeah, i am.”

“great, come in.”

he stepped aside and you walked in, taking off your shoes and jacket.

the house was oddly barely decorated, not a single picture or painting on the walls, very few plants, which you’re sure are fake plants also. the house wasn’t really colorful, most of the furnitures are bright. like beige and cream white.

“would you like a drink? water, tea, soda? maybe coffee?” he suggested as he walked in front of you, leading you to the living room.

“no, thank you.” you politely refused, feeling a little.. off in such a nice home. not something you’re used to.

you sat down on the couch, carefully not to mess the neatly placed pillows behind. god you looked so uncomfortable and awkward.

“i’d like to introduce myself again, in person this time.” he spoke as he sat down on the armchair, next to the couch.

“i’m jeon jungkook, 27. i’m a dentist in the center of seoul. i’m the father of a sweet angel, nabi. she turns 5 in a few weeks, we could say she’s in her, erm,” he struggled to find an appropriate word.

“crazy phase?” you asked with a smile.

“yeah, something like that. she’s been loud lately, that’s all.” he chuckled, resting his arms on his knees.

you nodded and held your small bag tightly, “i’d like to introduce myself better too, then.”

“i’m __, 24 and i currently work at an elementary school. i handed in my resignation letter and this is my last week as a teacher, so i’m searching for a new job currently.”

you paused, hesitant what else to say.

“elementary school? so, you work with kids?”

“yes, first and second grade.”

after a few minutes of getting to know each other more, a little girl, most likely his daughter, walked down the stairs with her sleepy appearance.

“oh!” she stopped the moment she saw you, the tiredness leaving her eyes.

“nabi, c’mere.” jungkook held out his hand, “this is __. what do you say?” he asked her, holding her tiny hands.

“hello.” she greeted you and you smiled, her shyness is adorable.

“hi.”

“__ is here because she would like to look after you.” he said and she looked up to him so fast, you thought her neck would snap.

“daddy, are you leeving me?” she gasped and jungkook chuckled at her words, shaking his head.

“no, but when i’m at work, someone needs to be here and take care of you. how about __, does she seem nice? hm?”

the little girl shrugged, hugging her father’s arm. he sent her back to the bedroom, saying he would be there soon too.

“well, she’s a little shy at first but, i think she’s gonna open up fast.” he smiled and stood up, your eyes widening a bit and you stood up too.

“does that mean, i got the job?”

“see you next monday?” he asked and you almost started jumping, but you held back. instead, you gave him a huge smile and nodded.

“monday then.”

[themultifanshipper]

It was a lot of fun, being persued by by two Formula 1 drivers. 

But they would soon be getting tired of the chase. They weren't going to let you stay ahead of them for much longer. 

Warnings: smut, finally bottom franco, technically a threesome but not really, restraints (belt), edging, shower sex, anal (mxm), face fucking, tension?

Anon originally had an idea with journalist reader but I went in another direction :3

The tension between you and Max had been brewing since your rookie year. 

You'd instantly taken a liking to each other and hung out all the time whenever you had breaks. 

You'd been on his yacht, he'd been to your family's vineyard for some wine tasting. You were good friends, and you knew each other exceedingly well. 

And of course it wasn't rare for the two of you to find yourselves battling for positions on track, and even came together a couple of times over the years. 

That lead to some pretty heated arguments, you even took a swing at him once. You were both hot-headed competitors, it was inevitable. 

Nothing ever happened between you though, you'd always kept a sensible distance to your coworkers. 

But you couldn't help being a tease. 

You'd put sexy bikini pictures of yourself on holiday in your private story, which only Max had access to. 

He figured it out pretty quickly when no one else seemed to know what the hell he was talking about when he asked them about it. 

And then Franco arrived. 

But he never pushed. If this was a game you wanted to play, he could wait it out, no problem. If you got desperate enough you would come crawling to him, he was sure of it. 

Franco was the biggest flirt you'd ever seen. Surpassing the likes of Daniel and Carlos as the smoothest talker on the grid. 

 He was slightly closer to you in age, so you gravitated towards each other naturally. 

You went on holiday with him a couple of times, and you went clubbing a lot. 

So pretty soon the rumours shifted from you and Max, to you and Franco. 

And there were pictures circulating. You and Max had had your fair share of paparazzi nuisances, but with Franco it was on another level. 

It was impossible to see each other without photos coming out the next day. 

Some were photoshopped, like the ones of you and him on your yacht, kissing.  

Or at least that's what your PR team told the public. 

You hadn't slept with him of course, but 4 glasses of wine is 4 glasses of wine. 

That's 3 too many if you want to keep a clear head. And day drinking in the sun is a dangerous game when you're alone with a horny man on a yacht. 

But you politely rejected his advances, insisting that your relationship was supposed to be professional. 

Max saw the photos. Of course he did. And he knew they weren't fake, so the next time he saw you he confronted you. 

Much to the chagrin of both of your bodies’ needs. 

“So how's it going with Colapinto?” he asked, faking nonchalance while you waved to the fans at the drivers parade. 

“Nothing's going on, don't be jealous” you plastered a fake smile on your face for the cameras. 

“I'm not jealous” he snapped. 

“Sure you aren't, Max. Anyway I keep my love life, and sex life, separate from my career, you know that”  

He scoffed, turning away from you to talk to whoever was on his other side.  

During the next week you decided to spice things up a little. 

The race weekend went by without a hitch, and Max didn't bring it up again. 

You sent Max a dirty picture. 

Nothing too bad, just you in some lingerie and a see through robe that hid absolutely nothing.  

You followed it up with “shit, that wasn't for you sorry” 

If that didn't get Max riled up nothing would. 

But to your disappointment, he didn't reply. 

That night you got yourself off to Franco's answering texts instead. You sent the same picture with the same caption, and waited for him to take the bait. 

The next weekend Max cornered you in the paddock on media day. 

He’d played the game at least, sending you a delicious picture in return, in the name of fairness. 

He dragged you to a quiet corner and caged you in against the wall. 

“What the fuck are you playing at?” he hissed, pressing you against the wall. 

“What the fuck Max! What are you even talking abou-” 

“I'm not fucking stupid, I know that picture was for me” 

You sighed. 

“No it wasn't, Max” 

“Who was it for, then?” 

“Wouldn't you like to know” you smirked, which just made him angrier. 

“Yes, I would actually”  

You pushed him off roughly and he stumbled backwards, taken off guard by your sudden aggressiveness. 

“None of your fucking business. And if you want to fuck me, this really isn't the right way to go about it” 

The next day, lord knows how, Franco managed to sneak into your driver’s room. 

You sauntered off, leaving Max to fume in silence at your audacity. 

“I enjoyed that picture very much, you know” he mumbled as he approached you from behind. 

He quickly plastered himself to your back, hands on your hips while he felt you up. 

“I'm sure you did. But it was an accident” your voice shook as his hands wandered. 

He chuckled. “I am not convinced of that”  

He placed kisses along the side of your neck, trailing upwards towards your lips as he turned your head to look at him. 

“Any chance I can see more?” 

His lidded eyes bore into yours and you sighed, pushing him away half-heartedly.  

“No Franco. I can't go around sleeping with my coworkers. It's not professional” 

He smirked. “Not professional? Tell me, who was that picture for?” 

You hesitated a second too long. 

“You don't know him.” 

He bit his lip mockingly, he knew you were lying. “Okay. I guess will just go then”  

Max won the race. He was back on his A-game and you’d spent the second part of the race squabbling with Franco and Alex over 10th place for the last point. 

And he did, he slipped out without anyone noticing him, leaving you to contemplate your next move. 

You got it, at the expense of Franco's front wing. 

“That was a dirty move” he groaned into your neck. 

You'd found yourselves back in the same position, him grinding against your ass, this time in the club while the bass made your bodies thrum with excitement. 

“If you want to get my attention, crashing into me isn't the right way to go about it” 

You shivered, both at his tone and at the fact that you'd said almost exactly that to Max three days prior. 

“Why would I want your attention?” you murmured back, enjoying the feeling of his hands caressing your body. 

“Darling, we both know you want to fuck me” 

You turned around in his hold, giving him the most seductive eyes you could muster. 

“No I don't” 

He groaned and threw his head back in frustration. 

“Don't do this to me. We both want it, stop playing around and let me show you how good I can make you feel…” 

You smiled and leaned in. 

“But where's the fun in that?” 

You removed his hands from you body and slinked back into the crowd. 

What you didn't know is that Max was in the DJ booth with Lando, and with his vantage point he could see everything. 

Running away, once again. 

He saw you slip away through the crowd and over to the bar. 

His blood boiled and he decided to take action. 

But he didn't make his way to you. He went to see Franco instead. 

“Mate I need to talk to you” 

“Ok, mate” Franco was confused, but followed him towards the bathrooms anyway, where it was slightly quieter. 

“Did she send you a picture of herself last week?” Max was going straight to point. 

Franco hesitated. “Who?” 

Max rolled his eyes at the younger man “You know who, don't play stupid” 

The sudden thought that you might be in a relationship with Max flashed through Franco’s mind. 

What if he'd read the situation all wrong? What if Max had found out about the flirting and was actually about to beat him up? 

“No?” he answered, but it sounded unconvincing even to his own ears. 

Max looked unimpressed. 

“Give me your phone” 

Franco complied immediately.  

Max proceeded to scroll through his messages, and clicked on the conversation with you. 

The picture of Franco appeared on his screen first, and he looked up at the man incredulously. 

“You sent one back? It was obviously bait. Are you stupid?” 

“I know it's all a game to her” he snatched his phone back “but playing it got me a very nice picture of her so who cares?” 

“I'm not playing the game and I got the same fucking photo” 

Franco frowned at his phone, and had to admit, he had him there. Maybe he had been stupid. 

“Well… you keep not playing, and I will keep playing, and we will see who get her to break first?” he suggested. 

“No” Max snapped. “I am sick of not playing”  

He glanced at Franco's screen, where the photo of you was still visible. 

They completely ignored you for two whole weeks. 

“She has been teasing us for too long. Now it's time she learned her lesson”… 

They avoided you at the weekend, and they never returned any of your calls and messages. 

You even tried sending them more pictures, but they both left you on read. 

You were bored. 

You knew something was up when you spotted the two of them deep in conversation in front of the Redbull garage. They were plotting. 

Max was pretty much your best friend on the grid, and you missed messing around with Franco. 

So on Saturday night, you sent them both a text you knew they wouldn't be able to ignore. 

Well Max might, but Franco would definitely crack. 

To Franco, you sent “If you come and fuck me now, I won't tell Max” 

And to Max, “If you come fuck me now, I won't tell Franco” 

You sent them both your room number, and waited. They both saw the texts immediately. 

Max had too much self control, so you doubted whether he would be desperate enough to show. 

You waited barely 20 minutes before Franco was at your door. 

But Franco…  

He was so easy. 

You had him on the bed, laying under you while you made your way down his body, picking off his clothing bit by bit. 

“I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me”  

His pupils were blown wide and a slight blush was creeping up his neck. 

“The offer was too good to pass up” he groaned as you rubbed yourself over the bulge rapidly growing in his boxers. 

You leaned down and pressed your lips to his, and he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around you and roll you over. 

“Your teasing has been driving me crazy” he panted, hovering over you while he made quick work of your clothes. 

“Why do you think I was doing it” you muttered with a smile, and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he realised how much you'd been enjoying teasing him. 

“To make me lose it and come fuck the shit out of you?” he asked, exasperated. 

“That's the plan” you bit your lip, looking up at him with a smile. 

“Perra” he groaned, sitting up. “Turn over” 

You raised an eyebrow at him, doing as he said. 

His hands were palming your ass while he admired the view, when a sharp knock at the door broke the tense silence. 

Your jaw dropped as you looked back at Franco who was wearing a similar look of shock on his face. 

Neither of you knew quite what to do, and the knock sounded again, louder this time. 

You jumped to your feet, grabbing a robe on the way and opened the door. 

Max stood there, fists clenched. 

“Max…” 

“Is Franco in there?” 

You were taken aback by his question. 

“And bear in mind, the answer is going to determine how this evening goes for you” 

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but was saved answering by Franco appearing next to you. 

“I am here… sorry” 

He looked slightly afraid, and it was understandable, because the grin that spread over Max's face was evil enough to scare even you. 

“I had a feeling you would be here” he stepped inside, crowding against you as he slammed the door behind him. “Option number two, then”… 

You didn't know what option number one was, but number two involved you having your hands tied to the headboard, while Max had his cock shoved down Franco's throat. 

Which is not something you ever thought you would see. 

But there Franco was, drooling around Max’s girth with red cheeks and tears in his eyes. 

You knew he was enjoying it though, because he was still wearing his boxers and the wet patch at the front was getting steadily larger. 

“Look at you” Max cooed “are you crying because you got caught betraying me just to get your dick wet?” 

Franco whined, hips bucking at Max's tone. 

“Or are you crying because you’re enjoying this a bit too much?” 

Franco closed his eyes, more tears falling as he breathed deeply through his nose. 

“You were fucking made for this. You've obviously had practice, slut ” 

Franco whimpered pathetically and you throbbed at the sound. 

You were fully naked, spread out for Max to admire. 

“And you” he snapped at you. “You have been teasing me for years, making me wait, while posting pictures of yourself for my eyes only. Then this little bitch arrives and you let him touch you? Absolutely not” 

He pulled out of Franco's mouth and manhandled him onto his hands and knees, facing you while Max dragged his boxers down his legs. 

Franco's eyes widened as he looked at you, glancing between your thighs at where you were glistening in the soft light. 

“You've been playing games with me since you joined the grid. And you would just let Franco have you after a couple of months? Over my dead fucking body” 

He pushed Franco down onto the bed, making his arms buckle and his back arch obscenely, and the younger man gasped. 

“So I'm going to fuck Franco, and you are going to watch.” 

God knows where the bottle of lube came from, but you were grateful for it, on Franco's behalf. 

The way Franco reacted when the first finger went it made you gasp softly. 

His eyes fluttered closed and he arched his back even more, pushing back against Max as he let out a porn worthy whimper. 

You were getting so turned on, you went to close your thighs but Max tutted. 

“Franco, hold her legs open” 

He obeyed, shuffled forwards and curled his hands around your knees to hold you in place. 

Unfortunately, that brought his face closer to your soaked folds and you could feel his cool breath down there. 

You whimpered and he groaned, leaning his head against one of your knees as he looked at your slick lips with a pained look on his face. 

“Don't you dare touch, Franco” Max growled “You need to learn patience” 

He was on three fingers already, and he was entranced by the way Franco's hole swallowed them greedily. 

He made quick work of lubing himself up and pushing into the younger man, who mewled at the stretch. 

“Jesus, you are tight.” He gritted his teeth as he pushed in to the hilt. “squeezing around me so good, maybe I should give up on her and just keep you as my plaything, hmm?” 

He gave an experimental thrust and Franco whined low in his throat as he looked up at you through lidded eyes. 

He looked so fucked out it was almost pathetic. 

But to be honest, you probably looked even worse. 

You squirmed against the bed, unable to get any sort of friction or stimulation as you were forced to watch Max rail Franco into the mattress. 

“You're fucking dripping” Max commented, finally glancing at where you could indeed feel the sheets under you becoming damp. 

He wrapped an arm around Franco's middle, shuffling him forwards until he was only an inch away from your soaked folds. 

“You want a taste Franco?” 

The younger man nodded as best he could with Max’s grip his hair. 

Max just chuckled and pushed Franco's face forward, allowing him to eat you out hastily. 

The sudden intense stimulation made you writhe under him, cursing as he sucked on your clit while his tongue delved into your wetness. 

“Fuck! Oh my god-“ you whined, hips trying to buck but Franco's hold on your thighs was too strong as he devoured you. 

As your moans increased in pitch, Max could tell you were getting closer and just as you were about to fall over the precipice, he pulled Franco's head back roughly. 

You cried out at the loss, and Max just chuckled, slamming his hips into Franco even harder. 

“Max please” you whined, and Max cooed in mock simpathy. 

He pushed Franco against you once again, revelling in the way he tightened around his cock at being manhandled like this. 

He angled his hips so that his cock pushed against Franco's prostate, and the vibrations of the resounding moan against your cunt got you right to the edge once again. 

But again, when Max saw your thighs start to tremble, he pulled on Franco's hair to separate him from you. 

Tears clung to your lashes as you were robbed of yet another orgasm, and Franco let out a loud moan. 

“I'm gonna come, Max!” he cried, and Max just picked up the pace of his hips. 

“Then come, I'm not stopping you” 

Once Franco had come down from his mind-numbing orgasm, Max pulled out of him carefully and rolled him over, making sure to avoid the puddle of cum now in the middle of the bed. 

Franco's eyes rolled back and his upper body slumped against the mattress as Max continued to pound into him while you watched helplessly. 

“You can go now, I will take it from here” he muttered as he handed Franco his clothes. 

You looked at Max. 

He looked at you on his way out, sending you a kiss before the door slammed shut behind him. 

He was making his way around the bed to come and untie you from the headboard. 

You weren't quite sure what to say to him as you stretched your arms. 

He walked into to the bathroom and turned the shower on, then poked his head around the doorway. 

“Come and join me”  

You got off the bed hesitantly. 

Was that it? Were you going to take a shower and then he’d leave? Or stay with you and talk? 

You weren't sure which option you hated more. 

You got to the bathroom and he was already under the water, cleaning himself without a care in the world. 

You approached him, putting an hand on his shoulder. 

“Max? Are you angry with me?” 

He huffed out a laugh. 

“No, why would I be angry?” 

He kept washing himself, and you had no idea what to answer. 

He had every right to be pissed after all. 

He looked at your confused face and chuckled. 

“No, I am not angry with you” 

You nodded, and he moved over a bit and pulled you under the spray. 

He pulled you against his chest and looked down at you. 

“I'm not angry, but I am sick of your games” 

You gulped. 

You could feel him against your hip, he was still hard. 

“You didn't come” you muttered, and he smiled. 

“Neither did you” 

Your heart was beating fast as you stared at him. 

“Are you planning to?” 

He nodded. 

“Oh yes. But you have a choice to make. Either I fuck you now, and we both come.” 

His hand came to cup your jaw as his thumb stroked your cheek. 

“Or, I leave right now, and you’ll never get to know how good you could've had it these past two years.” 

Your jaw dropped, and your cunt throbbed at the idea of finally getting to fuck Max. 

“Well?” his other hand trailed downwards to ghost over your folds, dipping in ever so slightly, to confirm that you were still soaked. “What will it be?” 

You gasped, head leaning back against the tiles of the shower wall. 

“Fuck me, please” 

He grinned. “That's what I was hoping for” 

He wasted no time turning you around and pushing into you roughly, your wetness easing the slide as he bottomed out on the first thrust. 

You both groaned, and he snapped his hips, determined to hear that noise again. 

He made you come twice like that, pressed against the shower wall as he took the frustration of the past two years out on you. 

He did indeed make you regret not giving in to him sooner. 

Later, in bed, you cuddled together after having changed the sheets. 

“So tell me Max. If tying me up and fucking Franco in front of me was option number two… what was option number one if Franco hadn't been here?” 

He chuckled, pulling you tighter against him. 

“If you had been alone, I would have tied you to the bed and left you there alone" 

You gasped. 

“and Franco?” 

“I would have fucked him anyway, to congratulate him for not giving in to you” 

You went silent. Thank god for Franco’s weak will. 

“Can I fuck him?" you asked "I really want to"

Max nuzzled into your neck and nipped at your skin. 

“Of course. As long as I can keep fucking you, I don’t really care” 

You hummed and turned your head, looking into his deep blue eyes.  

“Sounds good to me” 

He smiled, giving you a quick kiss before laying his head back on the pillow. 

“Me too” 

You giggled sleepily.  

Just like you planned. 

You had your best friend back, and two men were at your beck and call.  

[aliwritex]

Heyy!! could you make a franco x reader where they are young parents fic?

a/n: this is short but super cute. some thoughts about dad!franco

Finding out you were going to be parents at 21 wasn’t exactly the greatest thing ever. You were scared and confused at first, not knowing what to do about anything, really. And it was a while till you finally figured out what to do about it.

After you told Franco about your suspicion, you took a test and cried yourself to sleep in his arms when it came out positive. That was not what you had planned. Having just finished your studies, you wanted to start working in your area, get married and then finally start thinking about kids.

He did his best throughout your entire pregnancy, of course that landing the Alpine seat meant he was working more but he always made sure you look after you. He suggested you moved in as soon as you found out, already planing to turn the empty room in his apartment into a nursery.

Franco’s excitement made things a lot easier, he loved kids and always wanted some of his own, surely not so early but he had to take what the universe offered. He showered you with attention and he was in love with your bump. When the baby started kicking he’d lay his head on your lap and stay there for hours, feeling all the movements — then telling the baby off for hurting you.

Your baby boy was born in the summer, little Santiago looked just like him, it almost made you mad. But with a face like that it was impossible.

You were convinced that he was the easiest baby ever, completely healthy, settled into a schedule quickly, quiet and not much work at all. That was until he started walking. The boy became impossible, baby proofing the house was needed the day after he stood for the first time. Your once quiet little boy was now a cheeky smiley toddler.

“¡Boludo, te va a dar um toque!” Franco exclaimed, quickly picking up the child from the floor “Did you see that, mi amor? He was pulling the tape from the outlet” he explained popping into the bathroom where you were getting ready

“Don’t swear around him, please”

Santiago was now a little over a year old and was attending his first race. What you didn’t realize about traveling with a curious toddler was how unsafe hotel rooms are. You had managed to tape all the outlets shut but the baby boy was a little too smart for his own good.

“I didn’t swear!”

“Was that not a bad word?” he shook his head and you rolled your eyes “Right. Need to remember to bring the plugs next time, he’s too smart for the tape.”

It’s not that Franco kept you a secret, you just had a private relationship and never posted about your son. So when you walked into the paddock together with a stroller it was a surprise to many people. You tried to keep a low profile but Santi was just too happy to be there, waving and smiling at everyone. He also did not want to be locked up in his dads room while an entire world for him to explore was right outside.

“He kept calling for Papa” you explained as you walked up to the garage.

It was still Friday morning so there wasn’t much happening around, just Franco talking somethings through with his engineer. So he was free to take your son.

“Vení acá, Santi.” the child smiled, slipping his hand away from yours to run to his dad “Wanna see Papa's car?”

Your son absolutely loved everything. You could see his eyes light up in excitement when Franco showed him anything. He picked him up to show him the inside of the car, Santi was giggling as he flipped him almost upside down to look at it. He even pulled out the steering wheel and the kid was perplexed with all the buttons. You took pictures of everything, so many of them both smiling and laughing at each other.

“Right, that’s enough exploring” you took the child from his arms “someone needs a bottle and a nap or they’ll be too cranky to watch Papa drive later. See you in a bit, okay?”

Franco nodded, stealing a quick kiss on your lips before you left. He couldn’t be happier that he had his family there for him.

[watermelongirl01]

Sweet Rescue - 03

Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Content warning: SMUT, a little angst if you squint, fluff.

A/N: This is my first smut writing, I know it is not full thing yet, but it's going to happen soon, trust me. So let me knoe if you like it.

Also, the Holidays were really exhausting, I got really sick and my asthma came back, but we are sooooo back, so expect more stuff soon.

Chapter Three 

“So, you haven’t got any?” You rolled your eyes.

“No, Charlie, we haven’t got there yet.”

“I can see that, you have increased the number of times you rolled your eyes at me by about four more times.

“No, that’s because you keep asking inappropriate questions.”

“You're my best friend, and you’re dating a hot firefighter, I think it is inappropriate if I don’t ask those kinds of questions.” 

“It's not, I promise.” You said as you kept working on decorating your cupcakes. 

A short silence invaded the kitchen, and for a few minutes, nobody said anything, not even Donna washing the dishes behind you.

You bit your bottom lip and let go of your piping bag, dropping it on the table with frustration. Both women look up at you with a knowing look.

“I don’t know, but every time we are close to doing it, something comes up, his work, my work, something ruins it and we pull apart.”

“Oh, Darling, I'm so sorry.” Donna said.

“Maybe you need to give the first step.” Charlie said while sneakily grabbing one of the cupcakes on the table.

“Oh, and say what? Want to come over to have some pizza and fuck me?” 

Both women shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“No!” You covered your face with your hands. “What if he says no?”

“What? He doesn´t like pizza?” Donna's question made you chuckle a little.

“I'm serious guys.”

“So are we.” Charlie said while eating the frosting of the cupcake she stole. “How about you just say: I don’t even know what’s gotten into me lately, but I wish it was you.” She said wiggling her eyebrows.

“Yeah, no, pass.” You shook your head.

“Just jump him already.” Donna said

“What if he doesn’t want me to jump him.”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen yourself?” Donna gasped.

“Hell, I want you to jump me.” Charlie added.

“Fine, fine. I’ll try.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, sweetheart, what are you baking?” A low, raspy voice rumbled from behind you.

You startled slightly. “De! What are you doing back here?”

Before you could turn around, he stepped closer, his presence warm and solid. His arms came up on each side of you, caging you gently against the table. The faint scent of his cologne made your head spin.

“I’m dating the owner,” he murmured, leaning in so his chest brushed against your back. “Turns out, her employees let me sneak into the kitchen every now and then.”

His hands found your waist, his touch warm and familiar, while his lips grazed the side of your neck.

You stifled a laugh, trying to keep your focus on the dough in front of you. “Ha! She should fire those employees.”

Dean chuckled against your skin, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Good luck with that,” he teased.

He didn’t let go, his hands staying firm on your waist as if he had no intention of letting you finish your work anytime soon.

“They just left, by the way.” He said as he placed a kiss on your neck, the spot of your skin just touched by his lips felt like tingling. You can’t believe he found your sensitive spot while you were covered in flour and icing of every damn color.

He immediately recognized the sound that your mouth let slip out, an involuntary reaction, a gentle pleasure gasp. So he placed another kiss on your neck, and another and another, he loved the way your body responded to his actions.

He began to explore your sensitive skin by tracing his lips all over the line of your jaw and the curve of your neck, Dean feeling delighted in the subtle shivers rippling through you. 

The slight arch of your back makes you press your ass against his boner.

“Sweetheart.” He breathed out as a warning

Your hips started to move, grinding over his clothed boner as he used his grip on you to draw you closer.

His lips started to suck on your skin and leave marks on it, and just as you felt his hands begin to wander all over, exploring the curves of your body, the ring of the oven timer reaching his time cut through the escalating heat. Snapping back to reality, Dean pulled apart.

“Got a little carried away, didn’t we?” He chuckled a hint of breathlessness still present in his voice.

“Yeah.” You turned around looking at his beautiful green eyes that held a hint of desire, mirroring your own. “It’s okay, we don’t need to stop.”

Without hesitation, my hand found the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss. The taste of his lips was exquisite, as always.

Dean reluctantly pulled apart once again. “Maybe we should have dinner first.” He smiled and placed a chest kiss on your lips. “Come on, you spend a lot of effort doing this dinner, let’s go upstairs.”

“Sure.” You gave him a sincere smile.

————————————————————————

Dinner had gone pretty well. The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, shared stories, wholesome moments, and longing glances. Dean’s easy humor and the way his eyes lingered on you between jokes made your heart flutter more than once.

The evening ended with Dean’s favorite pie and the smile on his face when he took the first bite was worth every second you’d spent perfecting it.

Now, the two of you had migrated to the couch in your living room, the atmosphere warm and comfortable.

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened, maybe it was the way Dean’s hand brushed against yours or the way his eyes darkened when he leaned a little closer, but one moment you were sitting side by side, and the next, you were straddling him.

His hands gripped your hips firmly as you kissed him, his thumbs brushed against your sides. you could feel the warmth of his palms through the fabric of your dress, leaving a trail of heat.

His fingers, warm and knowing, found the curve of your left breast, and the absence of your bra there sent a shiver down his spine, and yours.

 He followed with kisses along your neck before he slipped the thin straps of your dress from your shoulders.

 The material pooled around your waist, revealing your bare chest and the way he looked at you with adoration let your mouth gasp with pleasure once again.

He looked at you with his green pleading eyes, you didn’t exactly know what he was asking for, but you nodded, it was barely a movement, but that was all the permission he needed.

A filthy noise came out of your mouth, as you felt how his lips captured your nipple, alternating between a teasing swirl of his tongue and the deep suction of his lips while his other hand massaged your neglected boob. Your body arched against him.

“So good, Sweetheart ” His whisper was warm over your naked skin.

You couldn’t help but place your hand on his shoulders and grind against his hard length through his jeans, your dress slipping upwards to expose your bottom as you began riding him desperate for some friction. This granted him total access to your cheeks which he didn’t hesitate to use in his favor to cup them as he held you closer.

“Fuck, baby.” He let out with a low grunt.

Your fingers tangled in Dean’s hair, pulling him closer as your lips crashed together in a kiss filled with passion and raw desire. He matched your intensity effortlessly, his hands gripping your ass like he couldn’t bear to let go. His tongue teased and tangled with yours, sending sparks through your body, drawing a breathless gasp from you. 

While your hips keep quickly moving in search of some release, his hands on your ass helped to draw you as close as he wanted, making your panties soak.

But just as you were undoing the buttons of his lumberjack shirt, the room was filled with an annoying ringing sound. His phone.

His eyes didn’t lose that darkness melted with a spark of lust, but he still reached for his phone.

“Sorry, baby, I need to take this.” Dean’s voice was low as he carefully straightened up, gently moving you aside before standing. His touch lingered for a moment, but then he was gone, phone in hand, disappearing into another room for privacy.

You sat there, momentarily stunned by the abrupt interruption. Your heart still raced from moments ago, but now a faint sense of awkwardness crept in. Clearing your throat, you adjusted your dress and smoothed it out, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and disappointment.

When Dean finally returned, his expression was apologetic, his eyes soft with regret.

“Everything okay?” you asked gently, searching his face.

“Uh, work emergency,” he said with a sigh. “I need to go.”

“Oh.” The word came out quieter than you intended.

“Sorry, baby.” His voice was filled with genuine remorse.

You mustered a small smile, even though your chest ached just a little. “It’s okay, De”

He leaned in, brushing a kiss against your forehead, his touch warm despite the moment’s interruption. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You nodded, watching him leave, the sound of the door clicking shut.

————————————————————————

“So… How’s it going?” Sam asked, his voice casual but laced with curiosity.  

Both brothers were enjoying breakfast together, a rare quiet morning where they didn’t have to worry about any work shifts. This morning Dean had taken it upon himself to make pancakes for breakfast.

Dean didn’t look up as he flipped the pancakes. “Fine.”  

Sam arched an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Uh, Fine. That’s it?”  

Dean shot him a side-eye but didn’t elaborate. He focused on keeping the pancakes from burning. 

“Are you still dating the baker?” Sam asked, genuinely curious.

Dean’s lips quirked into a smile at the mention of you, and for the briefest moment, his usual tough-guy exterior softened. He didn’t respond right away, instead making sure the pancakes were just the right shade of golden brown.  

“Yeah,” he finally said.  

“And…?” Sam insisted, setting his coffee down and watching his brother closely. This was the first time in ages that he’d seen Dean genuinely smitten.

“Sam, if you want to know something, just ask.” Dean’s voice was light, but there was a hint of reluctance behind it.  

Sam grinned, leaning forward. “Well, I was wondering why you haven’t brought her up here yet. I mean, You used to have a new girl here every other week when we were off shift, and now there’s not a single soul in sight.”  

Dean’s movements stilled for a second, but he quickly masked it with a shrug. “She has her own place,” he said nonchalantly as if that were the end of it.  

Sam blinked, looking at his brother incredulously. “Is that it? 

Dean continued to pile pancakes onto Sam’s plate, avoiding Sam’s gaze. “And there’s always pie at her place.”  

Sam raised an eyebrow, amusement creeping into his voice. “It’s all about pie with you, huh?”  

“Sometimes.” Dean replied, still focused on what he was doing.

Sam put his coffee cup down and crossed his arms. “Wait a minute. Every time we talk about this, you get all specific with the details I never asked for. And half the time, I don’t ask anything and you still dump on me information I don’t want to know.”  

Dean bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding his brother’s gaze as he dumped the pan into the kitchen sink. He knew Sam had figured him out. This needed to stop.  

Sam raised an eyebrow, realizing something. “Wait… you haven’t had any sex yet.”  

Dean’s eyes shifted, and he forced an awkward half-laugh. “That’s not true. I’m having plenty.”  

Sam tilted his head, his suspicion growing. “Uh-huh.”

“Plus, Sex isn’t important to me.”

 He narrowed his eyes. “Since when?”  

Dean sighed, wiping his hands on a towel and looking at his brother. “Since now.”  

Sam’s eyes widened slightly, a huge grin spreading across his face. “You’re waiting.”  

Dean groaned, rolling his eyes. “I hate when you do this. I just don’t want her to think I’m just messing around, So I’ve been cock blocking myself until I feel like it’s the right and perfect time.”

He shook his head, amused. “Wow.”  

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean muttered, clearly uncomfortable.  

“No, no. It’s cute,” Sam said, still grinning. “I didn’t think you were the type to take things slow. I’m proud of you.”  

Dean’s face flushed slightly, though he tried to play it off. “Are you gonna keep slut-shaming me?”

“No, no,” Sam laughed. “Actually, I’m impressed. You’re growing up.”  

Dean groaned, shaking his head as he put the plate of pancakes in front of Sam. “Shut it, Sammy.”  

————————————————————————

“Who the hell ate my last piece of pie?” Dean grumbled, his voice rough as he glared around the firehouse common room, where a few firefighters were casually eating breakfast.

“Wow, someone’s cranky this morning,” Sam teased as he walked in, arms loaded with pastry boxes from your bakery.

Dean’s eyes lit up at the sight of his brother and the familiar boxes. “How’d it go?” he asked, tone shifting instantly to curiosity.

“Good.” Sam replied, though his brow furrowed slightly.

“Did she ask about me?” Dean leaned in, his face betraying a mix of hope and nervousness.

Sam tilted his head, giving his brother a weird look. “No.”

“No?” Dean groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Fuck”

“She was busy doing a delivery for an event.” Sam clarified, shrugging.

“Oh.” Dean’s smile disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared. “You think she went to that delivery because she thought I was coming to pick up the desserts like every morning and didn’t want to see me?”

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Why would she avoid you?”

Dean hesitated, then sighed, muttering as he headed toward the locker room, “Because I think I screwed it up.”

Sam, sensing there was more to the story, followed him. “Come on, spit it out.”

Dean hesitated again, then finally admitted, “I think the whole cock blocking thing it’s making everything worse.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “You still haven’t had sex with her?” His voice was loud enough to make Dean glare at him.

“Jesus, Sam, why don’t you yell it louder? I don’t think the entire firehouse heard you,” Dean snapped.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sam said, lowering his voice. “What happened?”

“We, uh... we got carried away,” Dean started, shifting uncomfortably. “But then I got this stupid call, probably a wrong number but I made up a fake work emergency, so I left her house with a boner.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “God, this is even worse than I thought.”

“I know,” Dean groaned. “I think I hurt her feelings by leaving like that.”

“You think?” Sam shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Okay, fine, I did hurt her feelings,” Dean admitted, pacing back and forth. “Now I’m worried she thinks I don’t want her like that, and it’s killing me because I do. Believe me, she’s got the most beautiful boobs, and those noises of hers almost made me lose my mind.“

“Stop. Sam interrupted, holding up a hand. “I don’t need all the details, save it.”

Dean smirked, but it faded quickly. “It’s just... it’s hard, I’m trying to remind myself why I’m waiting, but every second I’m with her, it gets harder.”

Sam considered his brother for a moment before an idea struck him. “Why don’t you take her to the roadhouse tonight? Introduce her to us, you know, make it official. That’ll show her you’re serious about her.”

Dean paused, then a slow smile spread across his face. “Sammy, that’s probably the best idea you’ve ever had. Ever.”

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean fished his phone out of his pocket and hurried out of the locker room, grinning like a teenager.

“I will call her, right now.”

Leaning back against the wall, Sam shook his head with a smirk. Yeah, it was official, his brother was head over heels.

Tag List: @aylacavebear @deans-baby-momma @ladysparkles78 @spxideyver @lunaleah @muhahaha303 @charismatic-writer @deansimpalababy @spnaquakindgdom @globetrotter28 @vsplanet @narcissustulip @formulas-bitch

[damnfeelings09]

Bad Romance - Shadow's version

A.N: This one for you! @bookdragon247 I hope it does live up to what you expected! Had a lot of fun *and blush* writting this one.

After such a hard day's work, you deserved a night of partying, and what better way than to go to the local bar for karaoke night. You found yourself with your friends Amy, Rouge, Sonic, Knuckles, and... Shadow?! It wasn’t that it bothered you to see him. Shadow was serious, quiet, sarcastic, and mostly disinterested in meeting new people, which is why it surprised you that he was there. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see him tho, because, maybe, just maybe, it could be that you had a tiny little crush on the hedgehog. Okay, in reality, you were completely in love with him. However, Shadow had always kept his relationship with you (if it could even be called like that) professional. You were both GUN agents, and on several occasions, you’d shared missions with the hedgehog. Every now and then, you’d greet each other in the hallways, share a small chat while waiting for your coffee, or discuss some important details about mission findings. Shadow had always been very kind, even when he was angry; he had never raised his voice at you, which your friends found strange, but for you it never seemed so important.

Shadow was wearing a leather jacket, and his signature white gloves had been replaced with mittens, like the ones bikers wear. You had never seen his hands before. His fingers were long and thin, his nails long and sharp enough to cause harm if he wanted, shining like onyx. In the middle of his hand, right between his middle and ring fingers, his fur changed from night-black to red, just like his quills. “How would it feel to be touched by those hands?” You wondered, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Ahem…” – Amy cleared her throat, catching your attention. You were thankful it was her who noticed you were lost in your thoughts and not Rouge, or she wouldn’t let you off the hook for the rest of the night.

“Well, well, look who decided to leave their cave,” Rouge said. “He probably lost another bet,” she laughed, remembering the last time Shadow had bet that Sonic couldn’t go more than 10 minutes without talking, and when he lost, he had to join them for Sonic’s birthday party.

The six of you headed to the Sing On! bar. Inside, the lights were dancing across the room, and the music filled every corner of the venue. You could still walk through the tables without any trouble, and the crowd applauded to the lemur as he sang “Too Good at Goodbyes.” Amy grabbed Sonic by the arm and pushed him toward the DJ booth, eager to sing a duet, while the four of you looked for a table. Rouge convinced Knuckles to head to the dance floor, leaving you alone. You loved your friends, but this definitely wasn’t the way to get closer to Shadow.

“Hey, Shadow. I had no idea you liked karaoke,” you said, trying to strike up a conversation. Shadow turned his face toward you, slightly tilting his head to the left in confusion.

“Not my cup of coffee. Sonic promised to leave me alone for a week, so I let him drag me here.”

“Ah… I should’ve known, Sonic can be a little intense with these things. Still, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Oh, yeah? ” he said, raising an eyebrow. "Why would you be?" His deep voice sent shivers down your spine, making you flush instantly. In the background, you could hear Amy and Sonic butchering “Don’t Stop Believin’.”

“Sure… we’re f-friends. I love spending time with you… Just like with Sonic, Amy, and Tails…” You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, hoping someone would come and save you from the humiliation you’d just caused. “Ah… I’m going to get a drink.” You fled as fast as you could, locking yourself in the first bathroom you found. You lowered the toilet seat and sat on it. You were done for—now you’d have to change your name, dye your hair, and move to another city to avoid the humiliation you had just experienced.

You heard knocks on the door. “Honey? Is everything alright?” Rouge asked from the other side.

“I just blew my only chance in the most humiliating way. Friends? What was I thinking?” you complained, slapping your palm to your forehead.

"'kay, time to stop wallowing in your own misery?” Rouge pushed the door open, forcing you out. “Listen. You’re gorgeous, maybe as much as I am, you’re a good friend, fun, kind, and Shadow likes you. I’m sure of it, and if not, screw that jerk. Now give me back my confident friend.”

You sighed deeply and straightened your ears back into your fur. Rouge was right—you weren’t going to stay and cry, ruining everyone’s night. Amy found you in the bathroom and, when she saw your face, she quickly asked what was going on. Rouge filled her in.

“Well, Sonic told me that Shadow only agreed to come tonight because you’d be here. Plus, he kept looking around after you disappeared; I think he was looking for you.”

“No way” you raised your voice. “Sonic must be messing with you.”

“I don’t think so. Sonic likes to joke around with Shadow, not about him.”

“See? The only one who can’t see what’s going on is you. Go get your man.”

The three of you went back to the main room. This time, gathering your courage, you approached the DJ and requested a song. “Well, here goes nothing”, you thought as you took your position on the stage. Quickly, Amy and Rouge stood up from their seats, cheering you on. The audience was paying attention, and a pair of crimson eyes were watching you curiously.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

I want your ugly, I want your disease I want your everything as long as it's free I want your love Love, love, love, I want your love (hey)

As you sang, you pointed in Shadow's direction. Rouge, who was standing next to him, playfully nudging his shoulder.

“I want your drama, the touch of your hand (hey) I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand”

You sang, tracing your lower lip with your thumb, keeping your gaze fixed on Shadow. You had no idea what had gotten into you, you just knew there was no turning back. Would you regret it when the song ended? Probably, so you had to make it worth it. “To hell with this,” you thought, as you got off the stage, swaying your hips until you reached Shadow. Once you were in front of him, you grabbed his chest fur, pulling him closer to your body.

“I want your horror, I want your design 'Cause you're a criminal as long as you're mine I want your love Love, love, love, I want your love”

“I want your psycho, your vertigo shtick (hey) Want you in my rear window, baby, you're sick I want your love Love, love, love, I want your love (love, love, love) (I want your love)”

Shadow looked… nervous?. His usual carefree and cool aura had disappeared, replaced by a pink blush covering his muzzle. Never, in your wildest dreams, did you imagine that the Ultimate lifeform could blush because of you. It was new to him—just a few weeks ago, he had realized he felt… more when you were near. He could feel his heart rate change when you spoke, the slight reddish tint and the sparkle in your eyes when you shared a moment together. However, he always told himself it wasn’t true, that he was imagining things, that you were just naturally kind, because how could you fall for him, being so... well, him.

The boost of energy from having Shadow so close, and the fact that he hadn’t backed away, increased your confidence, so when you returned to the stage, you blew him a kiss. You had never seen Shadow's eyes so wide open as they were at that moment. He turned his face to the side, trying to hide, but it was then that his instincts betrayed him, and his tail began to wag happily. Shadow quickly grabbed it with his hands, trying to hide what was happening.

“No, I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh, caught in a bad romance) I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh) Want your bad romance (oh-oh-oh) Caught in a bad romance Want your bad romance”

The audience applauded, and Sonic and Knuckles cheered together, drawing attention. However, your gaze never left that figure trying to hide its emotions behind a mocking grin. Maybe it was time for Shadow to start to live and enjoy his life.

[nekrosmos]

John and Nikolai finally have time to spend an evening together, but John came back exhausted from an op and is now fighting to stay awake for Nikolai's sake, while Nik really only wants him to rest.

(Just a little bit nsfw at the beginning)

...

"Are you sure you are up for this, John?"

Nikolai wasn't a fool, he could see the exhaustion on John's face, the way his eyelids felt heavier than the dumbbells he was used to pulling almost every day, the heavy bags under his tired eyes. It was a good sight, a more vulnerable side of John he wasn’t used to showing to the world. To allow himself to drop his guard enough to fall asleep by someone’s side, well, Nik certainly felt like the luckiest man in the world. 

“I am… want to make you feel good….”

Those last words were barely coherent, John’s speech getting worse and worse with each passing minute he was fighting to stay awake. It was adorable. 

“Right. So if I asked for your lips around my cock, you would do it?”

Nik was teasing him, a wide smile on his face as he observed John’s reaction, or lack thereof, as the captain stared vacantly at him, his eyes barely open. For a second, Nik assumed that John had finally fallen asleep, until his hand moved, brushing his tired face with the back of it. 

“Just fuck me, Nik, c’mon.”

A gentle and quiet laugh was Nik’s response. If there was one thing John Price was, it was stubborn. Unless he physically restrained him and tightly tucked him under a blanket, this wasn’t a fight he had a chance to win. There were, however, many ways to win a fight. 

“Da, let me get to it then.” 

It was getting difficult for Nikolai to stop himself from laughing. John was laying on their bed, absorbed by the pillows and the blankets, like he was floating above a cloud. Nik stood on his knees between John’s legs, hands gently brushing the inside of his thigh. 

Spending time together was always a difficult task when both John and Nikolai spent their days on different sides of the world, dodging bullets and risking their lives. It was rare for them to be on the same continent, let alone the same room, despite how much they wanted it. 

When the two finally had some free time to spend together, Nikolai always wanted to do something special for John: taking him on dates, making him try food he knew he would love, fly him to a secluded place and make love to him under the stars. He wanted to make up for lost time, of course, and John knew that, a slight leftover of guilt left in the captain’s heart over the years he had wasted being too scared of this relationship. 

But, sometimes, all they got was a single night together, shared after John came back from an op. Often times, he was exhausted, bruised, and needed rest more than he needed any more adventures. This was such a case, as Gaz had informed Nikolai earlier that no one in the team had been able to get any shut eyes in the past forty hours. John was exhausted, but he was as stubborn as they came and had assured Nik that he was up for this. Right. 

A soft smile still on his lips, Nikolai bent down, kissing the naked skin of his lover’s hips, while his hands kept wandering around the lower parts of his body, his thighs so perfect under his fingers. A low groan escaped John’s throat, a quick glance confirming that his eyes were now fully closed. Not yet asleep, however, and so Nik continued, leaving kisses on his belly and ribs, hands still massaging him as best he could, soft sounds coming from John until eventually, his breathing changed, slowing down, limbs going limp. 

Nikolai smiled softly as he pulled himself up, resting next to John as he dragged a blanket on top of their naked bodies. He allowed himself, for a moment, to just observe the now asleep man next to him.

There was a sternness to John that immediately disappeared when he was sleeping, his brow relaxing, his jaw less tense, at peace, finally. Nikolai knew that his dreams wouldn’t be comforting, they never had been and probably never would be, but he was here, for him, ready to pull him closer when needed, ready to kiss the nape of his neck as his arms wrapped themselves around his shape. 

Perhaps Nik was a selfish man. He had pondered this thought many, many times in the past. To want something as much as he wanted John, to crave him like he was the only thing that mattered, it had been maddening, and still he waited. Now that John finally was his, there was nothing in this world that could pull him away from him. He had waited for so many years, that spending some time watching the other half of his heart slowly drift to sleep as they laid in bed together felt like a well-earned reward. And if that made him a selfish man, well then to hell with it. 

“Good night, John.” 

His voice was barely a whisper as his fingers brushed his lover’s hair, gently kissing his cheek. There were no reactions from John, and Nikolai allowed himself to close his eyes as well, a hand resting against John’s chest, right above his heart. There, in the quiet intimacy of the night, he could almost feel it beat under his palm, the perfect lullaby to lure him to sleep.

[fuck1ng-queen]

Better than the series

Noah Sebastian x Reader 

Rating: 18+

Warnings: light discussion, you being a bit shitty, jealousy, oral sex, Noah using that damn mustache

Author comments: hi bestiessss, how are you? if you follow me, you may have seen a post i made about mustache!noah a few days ago and honestly, i didn't think that post would get so many notes (which makes me think that mustache!noah is something everyone is interested in). anyway, i'm going to hell for thinking about noah like that and i'm taking all of you with me, kisses!

"It was great, guys! Thank you so much! See you next week!" You said, pretending not to be so enthusiastic.

You finished your work and lowered the screen of your laptop with excitement. Friday afternoons were always full of expectations. The daily stress of adult life kept you away from your boyfriend much more than you would have liked, so the closer Friday night, the sacred moment for both of you, got, the more butterflies danced in your stomach. Of course, you weren't a little girl anymore, and you weren't in the "getting to know him" stage, but damn, when you realized who you were dating, it was hard not to feel like jelly.

You took a quick but strategically effective shower, dressed comfortably, perfumed your hair with Noah's favorite scent, and quickly ordered a car to be there as soon as possible.

With a backpack on your back and a smile on your face, you arrived ready for your special evening with Noah. It didn't matter what you were going to do, what mattered was that you were together. The door opened and he greeted you with a warm hug and a kiss before you snuggled down on the couch. How good it was to be with him, you felt as if the week hadn't passed you by, as if being in the warmth of his arms dissolved all the pain and worry in your life. You just wanted time to freeze so you could stay there forever, just you and him.

"I counted the minutes until today. Our Fridays are sacred, but some weeks are so exhausting that they make it even more special," you smiled and patted Noah's cheek. "What do you want to do today?"

He kissed your forehead, the mustache he had invented to keep on lately tickling you slightly and making you giggle.

"I love our Fridays too. But there's one thing… the guys are organizing a gaming session tonight," Noah replied.

You pulled away from his embrace a little, just for you to see him more clearly, blinking your eyes a few times in a row. "But today?" you asked, confused. "Noah, it's our night."

Noah scratched the back of his head, knowing his explanation wouldn't go over well, but he tried to explain himself anyway.

"It's Jay's birthday. He's alone at the exchange and we want to give a little joy to his day. I promise it won't take long."

You understand that Jay is alone and he misses his friends, especially Noah since they've known each other for so long, but you can't hide your frustration and immediately cross your arms in disappointment.

"You're always talking to them, we hardly have time for each other."

"But we're together every week, we see each other all the time, and Jay? Look at his side, the guy's all alone there. I bet you don't want to feel alone."

You stand up, getting off Noah's lap and reply, still frustrated, "Alone? That's how you're leaving me, alone. You should pay attention to me. It's Friday, Noah, our day!"

He stands up, and although you love that look on his face, his already closed face gets on your nerves. You hated it when Noah did that.

"Fuck, am I not here? I don't leave you alone, have I ever left you alone? I understand that today is our day, I really do, but you could put yourself in other people's shoes a little," Noah sighs, trying not to be a jerk and get into an argument with you. He thinks of better words to say to you before he continues. "He needs it today, he's been feeling very lonely lately."

You exchange glances: from his side, the silent plea for you not to be as angry as you already seem to be; from yours, the growing tension and frustration. You sigh, not wanting to start a fight, but feeling deeply annoyed.

"Fine," you just give in, seriously. "But I'm not happy about it."

Noah kisses your lips and only replies, "I promise it'll be quick. You can stay in the room with me while I play, I don't want you to feel left out."

You enter the room together, but the atmosphere is still charged. Noah begins to set up the computer for the game while you sit on the bed, trying to hide your disappointment.

"Gotta call Emma so we can watch something on call. At least that way I won't be totally left out and I'll have someone to talk to."

"Sure, good idea. Just don't be too mean to the character on the show," he replies absent-mindedly, but trying to be nice.

"Don't worry, he'll have all our attention," you reply, giving him a cynical smile.

Noah nods, a little relieved, as you pick up the phone to call your friend. He sits down in his gaming chair, turning on the neon light in the room, and off the regular bedroom light to make the room comfortable for both of you. He adjusts the headset to start while you lie on the bed fiddling with your cell phone, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"Okay, guys, I'm here. Let's get started before Jay shows up."

You call your friend, and she somehow comes over to keep you company. You sit down on the bed with your laptop next to you and start watching the show. Noah, next to you, remains focused on the game, occasionally casting a furtive glance at you. A scene begins, highlighting the show's main character. He's handsome, wearing a shirt that, despite its formal appearance, is brightly colored and has some of its buttons undone, tight jeans, and aviator glasses that hide his deep brown eyes. But what really catches the eye is his distinctive mustache.

"Look at that man, that mustache is quite a sight," Emma jokes, her voice electronically present in the room. "This guy definitely knows how to use it to his advantage."

Noah, between the music playing and the laughter of his friends, hears you both burst out laughing, the sound echoing around the room, and he makes a point of very discreetly removing one side of the headset from his ear, curious to know why you're laughing.

"The mustache is like… a sign of confidence. I bet he must be amazing in bed."

"Totally! Do you think he's good in bed just because he has a mustache?"

"Absolutely! He must know exactly how to use it. Just think, a guy with a mustache like that must have tricks we can't even dream of."

Noah finds himself increasingly interested in the conversation and can't help but mute the sound of his headphones, trying his best to pay attention, one eyebrow raised in excitement to know how far your conversation is going, and just pretend to play.

"It must be the kind that takes your breath away in seconds," you say, unaware that Noah is listening. "The kind that knows what they're doing, the kind that's… experienced."

"A lot more than most. If a guy with a mustache like that paid attention to me, I wouldn't care about anything else, I'd just need him and a glass of water to live."

You laugh at Emma's comment, but then you look at Noah out of the corner of your eye and become serious again. "Yes, but some people prefer to play."

Noah continues with his temporarily forgotten game, pretending not to be hearing, but his expression with his back to you shows that he heard every word you said. "To play, huh?" He just moves his lips, speaking silently.

The conversation between you continues, full of laughter and bold comments about the character on the show. Noah keeps the microphone muted for long moments, discreetly observing the interaction.

The show ends and Emma says goodbye to you. Your phone vibrates with a message from your friend:

"It was fun, but I'm going to leave you to sort things out. Good luck!"

You reply with a few words: "Thanks. See you, Emma."

You get into bed, feeling a little better for the laughs with her, but still annoyed that Noah's game is taking longer than he promised.

"Good night, Noah," you say, turning your back on him, then mutter something inaudible, still slightly annoyed, but mostly frustrated. He should have at least warned you that the evening was going to be like this and that you'd be ready to do something else.

Noah doesn't answer, otherwise you might think he was listening the whole time. He sighs, knowing it will take an extra effort to get your attention again.

(…)

The night stretches on and Noah finally shuts down his computer and takes off his headset. He looks at you lying on your back, and even though you're asleep, he knows that you're clearly distant. Without forgetting how you've been thinking about the man in the series, he laughs softly, touches his own mustache, and something in him is ignited.

He slowly moves closer, snuggling up to you under the covers, already pushing your hair aside to make room to kiss your neck, deliberately brushing his facial hair. You slowly stir from the tickle you feel and finally wake up when you feel Noah's big hand playing with the nipple of your breast under your clothes.

"Noah…" you sigh, still sleepy. "What are you doing?"

He keeps tracing long kisses down your neck, making you shiver, and in a low, teasing voice he says in your ear, "You think I'm not paying attention, don't you? Those comments about the guy on the show… Do you think he could make you feel that way?"

Your sleep begins to dissipate as he kisses you, making you sigh, feeling your resistance melt away.

"Did you hear that? I was just kidding…" You turn your face to find his almond eyes staring at you with desire, your ass beginning to feel his bulge growing behind you.

He pulls the blanket off you and turns you over on the bed, kneeling in front of you and pulling off your shorts and panties together. He pushes your legs apart and you moan softly, already completely surrendered to the moment.

"Kidding?" His laugh makes you throb. "I'm going to show you that I'm much better than any guy you see on TV."

And he dives between your legs, ready to taste you, but mostly to tease you. He kisses one side of your groin, then the other, making a point of brushing his facial hair against you, noticing how wet and thirsty it makes you.

"Noah… Please…" you moan, trying to move your hips closer to Noah's mouth. He smiles smugly and runs his tongue along your folds, which are throbbing with excitement.

He turns his attention to your clit, sucking and sucking, making everything hotter and wetter. The hairs on his mustache, which you had just imagined tickling you while watching the show, only made you feel more pleasure. Noah tastes you like a hungry man and brings you closer and closer to coming apart.

"Look at you, you tremble every time I run my mustache over that needy pussy… I don't think I'll be shaving anytime soon. Do you want me to shave, babe?" he asks, laughing and rubbing his nose against you.

"N-no Noah, I don't want you to…" and you moan as you feel two of his long fingers penetrating you, unable to finish the sentence. "Noah, please…"

He is relentless in the way he moves his fingers inside you, knowing every point of you, knowing exactly what to do to turn you on. Without much effort, he feels you clenching against his fingers, your thighs shaking in spasms, and he hears your voice break into a loud moan calling out to him as you cum hard in his mouth.

He pulls away from you and kneels in front of your still-spread legs to appreciate your throbbing folds and your flushed, orgasmic face. "You're such a silly girl sometimes." He smiles and runs his fingers, which were inside you moments before, through his own mustache and ends up sucking on his own fingers. "This is for you to learn to appreciate what you have."

And then he just gets up and leaves the room, laughing at the incredulous way you look at him, trying his best to maintain the idiotic character he's just created, even though he knows he'll be buried inside of you in a few minutes, making you cum a few more times to live up to your special Friday.

.

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