#but it fired me up and made me care. it made me look at the world i live in and wonder why things have to be the way they are

[moonlightwritingf1]

Lando's Obsession | LN4

⊹₊ ˚‧₊୨୧₊‧ ˚ ₊⊹ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando has an obsession for Y/N's boobs

⊹₊ ˚‧₊୨୧₊‧ ˚ ₊⊹ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⊹₊ ˚‧₊୨୧₊‧ ˚ ₊⊹ word count ━━━━━━━ 3k

⊹₊ ˚‧₊୨୧₊‧ ˚ ₊⊹ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

Lando froze for a moment, his cheeks flushing a deep red. He hadn’t expected that. She had always been so reserved, so careful with her words. But tonight? Tonight, she was different. Bolder. And it was driving him wild.

“I wasn’t—” he started, trying to play it cool, but the grin tugging at the corners of his lips gave him away. “Okay, fine. Maybe I was. But can you blame me? That dress is… distracting.”

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, exaggerating the way the fabric clung to her curves. “Distracting, huh? You’re lucky I didn’t call you out earlier. Every time you thought I wasn’t looking, there you were, sneaking glances like some lovestruck teenager.”

Lando took a step closer, his confidence returning in full force. “If I remember correctly, you were the one smirking every time you caught me. Almost like you wanted me to look.”

Her breath hitched as he closed the distance between them. The air between them crackled with tension, the kind that made her skin tingle and her heart race. She could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the night air.

“Maybe I did,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes flicked down to his lips, then back up to meet his gaze. “Or maybe I just wanted to see how far you’d go.”

Lando’s gaze darkened, and he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His touch was feather-light, but it sent shivers down her spine. “Careful, love. You might regret teasing me like that.”

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Or maybe I won’t.”

---

The night had started like any other date they’d been on—except it wasn’t like any other date. This was their fourth date, and the tension between them had been building steadily since the first. What had begun as shy smiles and casual conversations had morphed into something far more intense. Something neither of them could ignore anymore.

When Lando had texted her earlier that day—“Be ready by 7. Wear something stunning”—Y/N had felt a thrill run through her. She knew exactly what she was going to wear. A black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, with a neckline low enough to make Lando’s jaw drop. She hadn’t planned to be this bold, but the sexual tension between them had become too much to resist.

As soon as he’d picked her up, Lando’s eyes had lingered on her chest a fraction too long. She’d noticed—of course she had—but she’d said nothing, only enjoyed the way his gaze kept drifting back to her throughout the evening.

They’d gone to a small, intimate restaurant in Soho, the kind of place where the lighting was dim and the music was soft enough to encourage whispered conversations. Lando had been charming as ever, making her laugh and hanging on her every word. But every so often, his eyes would drop to her cleavage, and she’d catch him mid-glance, her smirk growing wider each time.

After dinner, they’d walked along the Thames, the city lights reflecting on the water. The conversation had flowed easily, but beneath the surface, there was an undercurrent of something else. Something electric. Every brush of his hand against hers, every lingering glance, fueled the fire burning between them.

Now, standing outside her apartment, that fire was threatening to consume them both.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” Lando murmured, his voice low and rough. His hand slid down to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “And if I’m being honest, I don’t think I want to stop.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “What if I don’t want you to stop?”

His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from hers. “Then tell me to leave,” he whispered. “Because if I stay, I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself.”

Y/N’s hands found their way to his chest, her fingers gripping the front of his shirt. “Who says I want you to control yourself?”

That was all the encouragement he needed.

In one swift motion, Lando pressed her against the door, his lips crashing onto hers with a hunger that startled them both. The kiss was messy, desperate, filled with all the pent-up longing they’d been holding back for weeks. Y/N gasped into his mouth, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor.

He groaned, his body pinning hers against the door as his hands explored every inch of her he could reach. One hand slid down to grip her thigh, hiking her leg up around his hip. The other found the zipper of her dress, pulling it down slowly, teasingly, as if giving her one last chance to change her mind.

But Y/N didn’t want to change her mind. She wanted this. She wanted him.

She broke the kiss long enough to whisper, “Inside. Now.”

Lando didn’t need to be told twice.

Lando’s lips crashed back onto Y/N’s as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The hallway of her apartment blurred as he carried her toward the bedroom, their kisses hot and desperate, each one deeper than the last. She could feel the hardness of his body pressed against hers, the way his hands gripped her thighs possessively, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go even for a second.

Her dress had already been halfway unzipped, and as they crossed the threshold of her bedroom, Lando slid it off her shoulders in one smooth motion. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her standing in nothing but her lace bra and matching panties. His breath hitched as he took her in, his eyes darkening with desire.

“Christ, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down her spine. He stepped closer, his fingers trailing up her sides, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she tilted her head back, meeting his gaze. There was something electric in the air between them, a tension that had been building since their first date—no, since the moment they met. It was finally unraveling, and she felt both exhilarated and terrified by how much she wanted him.

“Prove it,” she challenged, her voice trembling slightly despite her bold words. Her chest rose and fell with her quickened breaths, her skin already tingling with anticipation.

Lando’s lips curved into that cheeky grin she loved so much, the one that always made her weak in the knees. “Oh, I plan to,” he said, his tone dripping with promise. Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, his mouth claiming hers in a searing kiss that left no room for doubt.

His hands moved to her bra, deftly unhooking it and letting it fall to the floor. Y/N gasped as cool air brushed against her bare skin, but the sensation was quickly replaced by the warmth of Lando’s hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples until they hardened under his touch.

“Fuck,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to look at her. His eyes were practically black with need as he leaned down, capturing one nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, and Y/N moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair to hold him closer.

He alternated between her breasts, teasing and tasting, each lick and suck sending waves of pleasure through her. His free hand roamed lower, sliding over her hip and down to the curve of her thigh before slipping beneath the edge of her panties.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice ragged as his fingers found her core, already slick with desire. “Please…”

“Tell me what you want,” he urged, his lips still pressed against her skin, his breath hot against her collarbone.

She hesitated for only a moment before whispering, “You. All of you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. In one swift motion, he lifted her again, carrying her to the bed and laying her down gently. He stood at the edge of the mattress, his eyes raking over her body as he began to undress. His shirt came off first, revealing the defined muscles of his chest and abs, and Y/N couldn’t help but reach out to trace the lines of his torso with her fingers.

“So bloody impatient,” he teased, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm before releasing it. The rest of his clothes followed, and then he was climbing onto the bed, settling himself between her legs.

The weight of him above her, the heat of his body against hers, made her head spin. She reached up to cup his face, pulling him into another kiss as his hips pressed against hers. The feel of him, hard and ready, made her whimper into his mouth, and she arched her back, craving more.

Lando broke the kiss, his lips moving down her neck to her chest once more. “Still think I wasn’t trying hard enough?” he asked, his voice thick with amusement and desire as his tongue circled her nipple.

She laughed breathlessly, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Maybe you’re just getting better at hiding it.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin, and then he was kissing his way down her body, his hands pushing her thighs apart as he settled between them. His eyes locked with hers as he hooked his fingers into her panties, dragging them down her legs and tossing them aside.

“Let’s see how smug you are after this,” he said, his tone playful but laced with an intensity that left her breathless. And then his mouth was on her, his tongue exploring every inch of her with a skill that had her crying out his name within seconds.

Her hands fisted in the sheets as he worked her with relentless precision, his movements slow and deliberate at first, then faster, harder, until she was writhing beneath him, her hips bucking against his face. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, his fingers joined the rhythm, curling inside her and hitting that spot that made her vision blur.

“Lando, I—” she started, but the words disintegrated into a moan as her climax hit, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her. He didn’t stop, not until she was gasping for air, her body trembling with the aftershocks.

When he finally pulled away, he looked up at her with a satisfied smirk, his lips glistening. “Still think I’m not trying hard enough?”

She shook her head, too overwhelmed to form a coherent response. Instead, she reached for him, pulling him up to kiss him deeply, tasting herself on his lips. When they parted, she whispered, “Get up here. Now.”

With a groan, Lando obliged, positioning himself at her entrance. He paused, his eyes searching hers. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she breathed, lifting her hips to meet him. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

And then he was inside her, filling her completely, and all she could do was cling to him as they moved together, their bodies perfectly in sync. Every thrust, every moan, every whispered word of encouragement drove her closer to the edge again, until she was certain she couldn’t possibly feel any more pleasure.

But then Lando shifted his angle, his pace increasing, and suddenly she was falling, tumbling over that edge with him right behind her, his name spilling from her lips like a prayer.

Lando collapsed onto the bed beside her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Y/n lay there, her body still trembling from the intensity of their shared climax. The room was filled with the sound of their ragged breathing, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.

Lando turned his head to look at her, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but filled with admiration.

Y/n blushed, her heart still racing. She could feel the warmth of his body next to hers, and it made her feel safe, cherished. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, though her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against him. Y/n nestled into his side, her head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

For a moment, they just lay there, basking in the afterglow of their passion. The silence between them was comfortable, easy, like they had known each other for years instead of just a few months. Lando’s fingers traced idle patterns on her back, sending little shivers down her spine.

“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice soft but filled with curiosity. “Can I… play with your tits?”

Y/n looked up at him, surprised by the question but also intrigued. There was something about the way he asked it—so casually, yet with a hint of mischief—that made her stomach flutter. She smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You can.”

His eyes lit up, and he shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at her. His free hand moved to her chest, his fingers lightly brushing over her skin. He traced the curve of her breast, his touch gentle but deliberate.

She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his hands on her. Every touch sent a wave of pleasure through her body, making her skin tingle with anticipation. His fingers circled her nipple, teasing it until it hardened under his touch.

”God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with awe. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her breast before taking her nipple into his mouth.

Y/n gasped, her back arching involuntarily as his tongue flicked over her sensitive flesh. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to her core. She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him close as he continued to tease her.

Lando alternated between soft kisses and gentle sucks, his hands roaming over her body, exploring every inch of her. He seemed determined to memorize her, to learn what made her tick, what made her moan.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “That feels… amazing.”

He pulled away slightly, looking up at her with a smirk. “Good,” he said, his voice teasing. “Because I’m not done yet.”

He moved to her other breast, repeating the same slow, sensual torture. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle nip of his teeth, sent her spiraling further into a haze of pleasure. She could feel herself growing wet again, her body responding to his touch like it was second nature.

As he continued to play with her breasts, his other hand drifted lower, sliding between her thighs. She gasped as his fingers found her slick folds, his touch light but insistent. He teased her clit, circling it slowly, drawing out every bit of pleasure he could.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “I love how much you enjoy this.”

She moaned, her hips bucking against his hand. “Lando, please,” she begged, her voice shaky. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. His fingers continued to move, his pace increasing as he felt her body tighten around him. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, her entire being focused on the sensations he was creating within her.

And then, just as she thought she couldn’t take anymore, she felt it—the sudden tightening in her abdomen, the rush of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her. She cried out, her body convulsing as she came hard, her nails digging into his shoulders.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed, his voice rough with desire. “Let go.”

When the waves of pleasure finally subsided, she collapsed back onto the bed, completely spent. Lando pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she caught her breath. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his fingers still lightly stroking her skin.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his concern evident.

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “More than okay,” she replied, her voice still shaky. “That was… incredible.”

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Good. Because I plan on doing that a lot more often.”

She laughed, the sound light and carefree. “I think I can handle that.”

They lay there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other’s arms, content to just be together. The world outside their bubble seemed far away, irrelevant. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, lost in each other.

Eventually, Lando broke the silence, his voice soft but curious. “Do you ever think about… what this could be? Us, I mean.”

Y/n looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat at the seriousness in his tone. “Sometimes,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “But it scares me. I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You won’t ruin anything,” he said firmly. “If anything, I think we’re just getting started.”

She searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity there. It was overwhelming, the depth of emotion she saw in him. But it also gave her hope, a tiny spark of belief that maybe, just maybe, she could let herself fall for him.

“Maybe you’re right,” she whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Maybe we are.”

[wtfaniii]

Hear me out- VIP reader and Frontman In-ho

Reader goes up to In-ho and is all like “I’m bored, can you entertain me?” And bro goes “You shouldn’t be bored, and I’m not really on the table for entertainment, but I’ll see what I can do” then ensues actions n shit. Really most of this is dealers choice in everything that happens, I just want more VIP reader content <3333

Uhhh I love it!!! I hope I understood what you expected from this!

A better show

Fem reader VIP x Front man

Summary: You are looking for better entertainment than just shows where low-class people die.

Warning: Nothing explicit but some innuendo, flirting, some submission.

N/A: I've only written smut once in my life HAHAHA, I hope you like this.

Money buys happiness.

Or at least that's what everyone around you had told you for as long as could remember.

You were disgustingly rich and beautiful but few dared to approach you for fear of rejection or your bodyguards.

You wanted action so when they talked to you about financing some deadly games for entertainment you accepted, however, this was only your third year attending as a spectator and fell asleep during the second half hour, if it weren't for the wonderful liquor they served you would surely be snoring.

Once again, you were a spectator as the players played lut, you were bored but the only thing that made you come back every year to that place and wear a heavy gold-plated honey badger mask was to enjoy the presence of a certain masked man dressed in black.

There was something about him posture and voice that captivated you, you could even swear that from time to time he saw you too.

And you were right, In-ho looked at you sometimes, she was the only woman who was part of the VIPs and your bored expression throughout the show seemed intriguing to him.

All these men were disgusting and to him you were a beautiful flower growing in a pond of dirty water.

Even though he had never seen your face even once.

Although of course, you also had a certain selfish and classist character, you had only learned what you were taught since you were a little kid.

They both looked at each other and you, with a smile that showed your white teeth, snapped your fingers and gestured for him to come closer.

However, he sent one of his employees to which you quickly denied —No, you —You pointed the finger at him specifically and he had no choice but to obey you.

Maybe the alcohol was taking its toll on your system but this time you were feeling bolder than usual, just to be sure, you took one last big sip from your glass as he stopped next to you.

—¿Do you need anything? —he asked cautiously.

That deep voice and the scent of him perfume made you sigh and squeeze your legs together.

Yeah... you'd definitely had enough alcohol for tonight.

—I'm bored, ¿can you make this night more entertaining for me?

From the way you looked at him and the pout on your lips, In-ho immediately knew what you meant, but he decided to play with fire a little, nothing in this life is easy.

—¡Uh!... It seems our dear badger wants some honey —said the man with the lion mask using a playful and funny tone.

You ignored him, you were now too focused on getting what you wanted to get angry over a few rude words.

—I apologize if this bores you, but I'm in no position to entertain, I just maintain order and make sure the guests are happy.

From your posture he could tell that you didn't like that answer but he also knew that you wouldn't give up.

—I'm a guest and I'm not happy —You faked a smile—I'd be happy if you sat down with me, believe me, I'll make sure you don't get into trouble.

The silence in the room lasted a few seconds, In-ho felt the gaze of the other guests on you but that didn't stop him from continuing to challenge you.

—I repeat, the entertainment is not my responsibility, but if you agree, I will look for way to... satisfy you.

Front man walked to his podium and made some motions for someone to take charge while he took care of you.

After a few minutes he turned to you and extended his hand with chivalry and elegance.

—¿Would you like to accompany me to a more private place?

You smiled under the mask and took him gloved hand as you stood up.

—Gentlemen, I say goodbye for tonight, you guys keep enjoying the trivial spectacle.

You said calmly, despite the exotic environment you were in you still maintained your education and manners.

—¡Have fun! —the man in the buffalo mask exclaimed, followed by a loud laugh.

"They are idiots" you thought, letting yourself be guided by the handsome masked man.

You two took a few more steps until you reached a somewhat colorful room with a huge sofa in the center.

—After you —he said softly, giving a small bow and leaving a chaste kiss on the back of your hand.

You could only feel the cold material his mask was made of but you kept quiet, the simple act made your heart warm, it was ironic how you called him just for some fun but this man could make you shiver with a couple of non-sexual actions, it was just him.

Once you walked in and looked around at the bright colors you heard him close and lock the door, then you felt his presence behind you.

He very delicately placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled down your golden robe a little, revealing the bare skin of your neck, collarbone and shoulders.

In-ho paid attention to your breathing, that way he would know if he was doing it right or not, he took off one of his gloves to allow you to feel his skin touch you.

—¿Can you take off your mask? —You murmured curiously.

—I'm afraid that would be impossible, our identities are protected for security reasons.

You sighed and turned on your heels to stand in front of him, not allowing him to say or do anything you placed your own hands on golden mask and removed it revealing your face.

Once you dropped the mask to the ground In-ho remained silent, observing your features.

You were younger than he had thought, your eyes looked at him with desire but at the same time confidence and longed for affection, ¿how bad did your life have to be to look for affection in a stranger with a mask?

When you put your hands on his covered face and tried to remove the mask, he stopped you and walked away from you to the couch and grab a black cloth bandage.

—If you want me to take off the mask, you'll have to cover your eyes.

It wasn't a fair deal but you accepted it just because you were starting to get wet just from him attitude.

[...]

The soft sound of your breathing as he kissed the skin of your neck was the only thing that could be heard in the room, In-ho was sitting on the couch without his top clothes on, his lips leaving a trail of wet marks on your neck and his hands resting on your hip.

You felt so vulnerable and surrendered to him as you straddled him lap, naked and blindfolded.

You were used to having control over everything, giving orders and other things but this feeling of knowing that someone else could have control over you, could move you or manipulate you was new, it was exciting.

You let out a gasp as you felt the leader's fingers move closer to your core, teasing you a little.

—You're very anxious, ¿how long have you been waiting for this?

The mockery in his words made you shudder, you moved your hips against him searching for friction but he held you firmly with his other hand.

—Don't move —He whispered in your ear —You asked me to entertain you and that's what I'm going to do.

Seeing your red cheeks and your half-open mouth made In-ho feel his pants tighter than usual, yet he remained calm and continued playing with your center, enjoying the lewd sounds you gave him.

Their lips met in a hungry kiss and you finally had the chance to move your hands a little, which went from being on him chest to descending towards the belt of him pants.

With a few deft movements you got rid of him belt and pulled down his pants with a little effort.

He moaned lowly as he felt your hand caress him, if you could see him you would have seen the lust in his dark eyes and dilated pupils.

—I need you, now —You almost begged, it was pathetic how you begged for more from this man whose face you hadn't even seen.

—Ask me to give you what you want.

He still wanted to continue playing with you a little but he was also as eager as you so as soon as you said "Please" he lifted you up a little and positioned you so he could enter you without any effort because of how wet you were.

In-ho closed his eyes and a soft growl escaped his lips as he guided your movements on him, he would have loved to look into your eyes as you rode him like this but his identity was above that, or at least for now.

Besides, a certain part of him was also excited to be a secret from you.

With his free hand he grabbed your hair, made a small knot and tilted your head back to have access to your neck once again, while you increased the pace of your jumps he was in charge of leaving red marks on your skin.

When he felt you tense up he made you stop and without letting you go he turned you both around so that you ended up on the couch, this time he on top of you.

He began to thrust into you, at first it was slow, letting you feel every inch of him and then he was a little rougher, slowly increasing the speed and strength, your screams of pleasure were music to his ears, your nails scratching his back was another of his favorite sensations.

He placed your legs on his shoulders forcing you to take him completely which made you arch back and moan even louder.

—You are such a beautiful mess... —Lust and desire dripped from his words, he wasn't lying, having you like this under him and causing your screams was almost enough to make him finish inside you but he refrained from doing so, he wanted to keep taking you —You will be completely mine for this night.

He put one of his hands on your neck and squeezed lightly, cutting off your air flow and causing you to moan muffledly. The speed of his thrusts slowed down a little only to pick it up again and after a few seconds you reached your climax.

—¡Oh fuck! —You screamed as soon as you finished and your legs shook, however a soft squeal left your lips when you felt him hot sperm fill you.

It felt so good, this was definitely better than those crappy, boring games.

In-ho was breathing heavily and his face was completely red but he still didn't want to let you go, he had already tasted you and now he wanted more.

They both wanted to continue.

So you didn't refuse when he pulled out of you and made you get off the couch just to kneel in front of him.

—I have never knelt before any man —You said confidently and with an arrogant smile on the side.

—There's always a first time —He wrapped his hand in your hair and settled back with his legs spread on the couch —Now open that pretty little mouth.

You obeyed him without objection and when he could feel your warm mouth around his member it made him throw his head back with a moan.

It would be a long and entertaining night.

Now you can make sure you don't miss any year of these games and he'll be more than happy to give you that pleasure you longed for.

[entitled-fangirl]

The trail.

Jason Todd x reader

Summary: Bruce has to make sure, once and for all, that the man under that red mask is his son. There was one trail, leading right to a girl- the crime lord's girlfriend.

A/n: I JUST watched Under the Red Hood so I had to!

Masterlist

........................................................

Jason Todd is Red Hood.

Bruce's heart sank at the results on his computer. The blood was a complete match.

The guilt of the event five years ago flashed through his mind like a montage. The explosion. The blood. Jason's body in his arms.

So how…?

He had to move forward. 

This crook—his son—was becoming the biggest crime lord in Gotham, and he had let it happen.

He spent the next few days never away from the Bat Cave. He missed meetings at Wayne Industries. Called off dates. Anything that wasn't in the Cave in front of this computer. He didn't eat. Didn't sleep.

Until finally a trail appeared.

Just one.

An address.

…

He had sent Nightwing out in his place for the night to attempt to catch Red Hood.

It gave him time to follow this clue.

He dropped onto the fire escape of the address. By the looks of it through the window, it was a little apartment.

The window was locked. He craned his neck to see what the holdup was. Usually, he could break through the cheap locks these landlords put on them. But this one was bought by the renter and installed themselves. Smart kid.

But Bruce had built a gadget just for this. He placed it on the window and soon, he could open it with ease.

Was this breaking and entering? Perhaps. But for Jason- this law didn't feel so awful breaking. He'd do anything for him.

It was dark. Hard to see without a light on, but he couldn't move anything or Jason would know he was here when he got back.

He walked carefully through the living room. No pictures. No glaringly obvious decor of who lived here. Another wise choice on the kid's part.

That tile looked like it would creak. He avoided it.

He needed something. Anything. He need confirmation that his boy was still alive. Because that criminal was not his Jason.

Opening the bedroom door is risky. Jason might catch it later, but if Bruce is careful, he can adjust it back before he leaves. He braves it and twists the handle, opening the door so slowly it was hard to tell it was opening.

"Shit," he breathed.

In the bed laid a young woman. She was fast asleep, hair tousled against the pillow, clad in an oversized shirt and judging by the way her bare leg poked out from the heavy blanket- not much else.

It felt wrong, standing in the doorway like a creep.

He knew then that he couldn't stay any longer. He had to go. He had to go now.

He breathed out and did one final check, reaching out to the empty side of the bed.

Still fucking warm.

Dick had only made contact with Red Hood ten minutes ago.

He closed his eyes and forced a long, silent breath. Then he retreated his steps, careful to cover each one.

Hard to say if Bruce had found what he was looking for.

…

"Morning, sleepy girl," Jason mused as he sat on the bed. 

Y/n groaned and stretched, turning to the other side to avoid Jason's attempt to wake her.

He chuckled and grabbed her hips, pulling her down the bed to him. "C'mere. Gotta get up."

She groaned again, fighting against him with little effort. 

He picked her up off of the bed and into his lap, laughing again as she all but melted into a puddle against his chest. Her head tucked into his neck and there was no doubt she'd attempt to sleep again.

"Wait, baby," he tried. "I'll let ya sleep soon. Just need you up for a minute."

With his hands rubbed the sides of her hips and waist soothingly, she was slowly roused awake. Her eyes opened. "Jase… still dark outside-"

"I know," he cooed. "I know it is. Just need to check on you."

"'M fine," she drew out in a sleepy tone.

"Look at me. Let me see you."

With his gentle manhandling, she was pulled away just enough for him to look over. He looked over every inch of her in the dark. When he finally felt satisfied, he drew her back to him. "D'you get up in the night?"

She hummed a sleepy no which worried Jason more. "At all? Really think. I need you to be sure."

She rubbed her face against his shoulder. "I said I didn't."

He heaved a long sigh. "Didn't even wake up for a little bit while I was out?"

"What's wrong, Jase? You sound worried."

"'S nothing. Let's go back to bed, huh?" He laid her back down, laying beside her. She eventually cuddled into his side and fell asleep.

But Jason stayed awake.

…

The next evening, Batman stood outside of the apartment's door.

Once again, Red Hood was out and Nightwing on his tail. 

This would be Bruce's last chance.

Y/n sat on the couch, reading up on a newspaper. She always begged Jason to get the Gotham Gazette while he was out. 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She froze.

Never, under any circumstances, answer that door, Jason had said. 

The door was locked. Surely that would keep whoever it was at bay.

Bruce wiggled the door and sighed. He hated doing this.

Jason had sworn before he left that he'd get better door and window locks, refusing to tell his girlfriend why they needed them.

With a simple skeleton key, he managed the door open. He stood there in the doorway- the Batman.

She stood up, newspaper abandoned on the table, her terrified eyes set on the intruder.

She knew about the Batman. She knew what Jason had said about him. She knew everything.

And she was frozen.

Batman stepped in with his hands up in an attempt to ease her mind. "You'll have to excuse the entrance. Need to be a little smarter on the locks, huh?" It was an attempted joke, albeit, a poor one.

She slowly bent at the knees, fingers grasping at the gun under the coffee table. She hurriedly aimed it at him, a scared look in her eyes. "You-You need to leave," she stuttered. "He'll gut you if he finds you here."

"So you admit he comes here?"

Damn it. She didn't mean to do that.

"I knew he did. Just need to ask you some questions. Just some honest information."

When he took a step closer, her hand holding the gun shook more. "Don't!" 

"I'm not going to hurt you, alright?" He tried to ease. He held a hand out. "Why don't you give me that."

She shook her head, adjusting her grip on it.

Bruce sighed and disarmed her without much of an effort. He managed to tear it from her hand, holding the other wrist in a tight grip. "Let's sit down," he spoke, void of emotion.

He gently forced her to sit on the couch. And once settled, he respectfully moved to the armchair next to it.

Jason's chair.

"Y/n, isn't it?" He asked.

"Bruce, isn't it?" She asked back.

Oh. So she knows.

He sighed and pulled down his cowl. "So he's told you everything, I'm assuming?"

"W-Who?" She played dumb. She was going against everything Jason said to do. 

"Always just tell them what they want," he had urged one night when he opened up about his past to her. "If ever," he spoke, cupping her cheeks. "If it ever comes to something like that, tell them whatever they want. I won't have you hurt on my account. Got it?"

"Y/n," Batman sighed. "Jason and I are not enemies. You and I aren't either."

"Don't believe you," she muttered.

"Jason is my son," he growled. The anger had finally risen in his chest and he had to force it back down. "Sorry." He rubbed his forehead. "I want to wring his neck and then take him back home and give him whatever he wants. It's just... it's complicated."

She watched the seemingly all put together Batman fall apart so easily in her living room. 

"You're a nice girl," he pointed out. "Surely Jason is still the boy that he was before. In some ways. I just… I came because…"

"Because he won't open up to you and you're hoping I will."

"Something like that."

Silence settled over them.

"Jason is kind," she finally said. "And Just. Noble. He always does the right thing-"

Bruce scoffed mockingly at that.

She frowned. "If you're going to mock me, then I can stay silent."

He shook his head with a sigh. "I'm sorry. Go on. Please."

She thought for a while. "He said something about… chemicals. Like… chemical vats but there was a name he used-"

"-Lazarus Pit?" He immediately questioned. His interest was peaked.

"Yeah. He didn't explain what it was but it raised him from the dead. I'm not a scientist or anything so I don't understand that kind of stuff."

"Did he mention Ra al Ghul by any chance?"

"Think so. Yeah."

"This is extremely helpful. You have no idea."

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I'm not gonna give you his plans for anything- if that's really what you came here for. He doesn't tell me that kind of stuff."

"Well, I'm not. Glad to know he's cautious. You need a better door lock, though."

"And a better window one as well, huh?" When Bruce flushed, she grinned. "Jason isn't dumb, you know. He had a suspicion when he got home. Just like he'll know you were here just now."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter now. I have the information I need. Thank you." He stood and pulled his cowl back on, walking towards the door.

"Batman!" She urged. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "Bruce. Whatever all this is, please don't hurt him. I don't think I could live with myself if something happened."

"Neither could I. I've failed him enough. I won't do it again," he promised. He turned to leave, then paused. He dug something out of his belt and turned back to her. "Here."

She stepped to his side and took the thing in his hand.

Jason's Robin mask.

"I have to know one more thing." He hesitated to ask but knew he needed to. "Is he… safe? Happy?"

She held the mask to her chest. There was a comfort between the two. How Jason held them together and yet never more far apart. "He smiles. And laughs... sometimes."

"Good, good. You're good for him."

The door shut and silence filled the apartment as she was left alone one again.

Now on the coffee table laid the day's newspaper titled, 'Red Hood: Friend or Foe?' And on top was Jason's old mask.

She had a feeling this was just the first of many encounters with Batman.

.............................................................

[yeomongi]

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 — ᡣ𐭩

genre: smut MDNI 18+ content below cut

pairing: yunho x you

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: brat tamer!yunho, unprotected sex (don’t), cumming inside, fingering, orgasm control, orgasm denial, tiny bit of dacryphilia, yunho is kinda harsh but there is a little bit of sweet aftercare :3, i think that’s it! no proofread

synopsis: after you had been teasing and tempting yunho all day throughout practice and while he was gaming, he finally snapped, giving you a rough fucking to put you in your place.

note: 1 more request done, 8 more to go 🫠 i enjoyed writing this one tho! pretty happy with how it came out! ^^ hope everyone likes it! reblogs and interactions appreciated <3

your hands felt clammy as you pushed open the front door after dance practice. you'd spent hours moving in sync with one another, your body glistening with sweat under the studio lights. next to you, yunho stood there, his eyes hungrily devouring every inch of you in your tight fitted clothes.

he didn't say a word, just watched as you both made your way inside. yunho headed straight for the living room, plopping down on the couch and picking up his game controller like nothing had happened.

you sauntered over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, feeling his gaze burn into your back. you knew you were driving him wild, and you relished in it.

after downing half the bottle in one go, you joined him on the couch, sitting close enough to feel the heat radiating off his muscular frame. his fingers flew over the buttons on the controller, focused on his game... or at least, that's what he wanted you to think.

you couldn't resist leaning into him, feeling his strong arm wrap around you as you did so. you nestled your head under his chin, the rapid beat of his heart against your cheek sending a thrill through you. you teased lightly, running a finger down his chest, knowing just how to get under his skin.

"is your game more interesting than me?" you asked in a playfully innocent tone, knowing full well it was pushing his buttons.

his grip on you tightened, but still he didn't look away from the screen. he set his jaw, eyes narrowed as he tried to ignore you.

"like watching pixels better than seeing how pretty you look all red and flustered?" you taunted, your fingers tracing circles on his thigh.

that did it. in one swift motion, he turned off the console and tossed the controller aside before he pinned you down into the cushions of the couch. his breath fanned hot against your neck as he held you there, face twisted into a mix of desire and frustration.

"brat," he growled, voice low and dangerous.

you arched under him, feeling the weight of his body pinning you down. it sent shivers down your spine. you gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes. "i'm just teasing," you purred, your words barely audible.

"say it again."

his grip on your wrists tightened as he leaned closer, his hot breath against your lips sending tingles through you. "You're being a brat."

your heart pounded wildly in your chest at his words. finally, he was giving you the attention you craved.

"what are you gonna do about it?" you shot back boldly, unable to resist pushing further.

with that, his free hand shot up and yanked your shirt over your head, buttons popping off in his haste. he didn't seem to care - the fire in his eyes only burned hotter.

he didn't waste time removing the rest of your clothes, tearing them off you roughly as he claimed your mouth in a brutal kiss. his tongue pushed past your lips, dominating you completely. you gasped against his mouth, overwhelmed by the intensity of his passion.

his large hands roamed your newly exposed skin possessively, leaving red marks that would surely bloom into beautiful bruises later. the pain mingled exquisitely with the pleasure building within you.

"mine," he grumbled possessively, his fingers finding your sensitive bud and rubbing circles that bordered on too much but felt so good.

he pulled back from your lip-swollen mouth, his own lips twisted into a wicked grin. his hands left your body briefly only to rip your last piece of clothing away. you whimpered at the sensation, your body trembling.

in one swift motion, he spread your legs wide, settling between them as his hot gaze raked over every inch of your exposed form. his fingers trailed down your inner thighs, sending electric sparks through you.

"This what you wanted?" he bit out, his own breathing heavy and ragged now. without waiting for a response, his thick digit pushed into your slick heat, causing you to cry out at the sudden intrusion. he pumped slowly but deliberately, watching your reactions.

his rough treatment heightened every sensation, every nerve ending singing under his merciless touch. you knew he wasn't playing nice anymore.

your back arched off the couch as you felt him add another finger, stretching you wider, preparing you for what was to come. tears pricked your eyes from the intensity, but it only served to drive you further into ecstasy.

"please..." you managed to choke out, the sensation overwhelming.

he chuckled darkly at your plea. his fingers curled inside you in that spot that made your vision spark. "please what? ask nicely."

your bottom lip trembled as you tried again, your pride fighting against the needy words bubbling up. "p-please Yunho..."

at your words, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and aching. you let out a frustrated whine, body shuddering as you craved release.

instead, you felt something larger and hot against your entrance. he held you firmly by the thighs, teasing you with just the tip. "you've been so good taking my fingers. now, you'll take the rest of me."

with a single powerful thrust he buried himself deep inside you, stretching you beyond anything you'd experienced before. your scream echoed through the room, a mix of pain and rapturous sensation.

he didn't pause, immediately setting a brutal pace, angling to strike that sweet spot again and again. tears streamed down your face, lips parted in a wordless cry.

"there it is, so pretty when you cry for me," he purred, voice hoarse with exertion and satisfaction at your tears. he gripped your hips harder, driving into you relentlessly.

the overwhelming sensation was too much, your body overwhelmed by each punishing snap of his hips. every fiber of your being focused on the intense fullness, the friction igniting white-hot flames of pleasure-pain.

your nails raked down his back leaving angry red trails, a primal sound ripping from your chest. still he didn't soften, seemingly driven wild by your reactions.

"yes, that's right. take all of me," he grunted, his words punctuating each jarring thrust. he reached down to rub your soaked, sensitive clit, determined to push you beyond your limits.

your vision blurred with the intensity, the buildup of sensation threatening to topple you over the edge against your will. your body arched and spasmed beneath him, right on the precipice.

“don't you dare cum yet."

his command hung in the air like a threat, his movements becoming even more brutal as he fought back your release. your muscles quaked, your body betraying you with each pounding impact.

he leaned in close, his hot mouth finding the tender skin where your neck met your shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave a dark mark. the mingled sting and dominance of his bite sent fresh waves of sensation crashing through you.

he shifted angle again, striking deep inside, the new sensation sending new tears spilling forth. you claw at his broad back, the pleasure-agony exquisite agony.

"you're close aren't you?" he growled low, voice dripping with promise and control.

you were unraveling under his relentless onslaught, your words spilling out in a desperate plea.

"yunho...please...i can't..." the strain of denial was exquisite torture.

he chuckled darkly, his fingers digging harshly into your hips. "can't what?" he taunted, his rhythm becoming almost cruel now. "Say it."

the building pressure inside you was a searing ache, your body tightening around him defiantly despite his demand. every nerve ending screamed for release.

your pleas turned to incoherent whimpers as you felt your resolve crumbling. you felt the hot coil deep within your core ready to snap.

"please, please, please..." you chanted like a mantra, surrendering completely to the overwhelming sensations. your back bowed dramatically off the couch as wave after wave threatened to crest.

"go on then," he goaded, voice thick with desire, "let it go. let me feel it."

as he spoke, he surged forward one last time, the friction unbearable. your body shattered, shuddering violently beneath him as the waves finally broke over you. stars burst behind your eyes, the intensity stealing your breath away.

your release pulsed hot and wet around him, sending him over the edge soon after. he followed you down, chasing his own climax with a few more urgent thrusts before burying himself to the hilt, spilling everything deep inside.

he collapsed atop you, both of you panting hard, bodies slick with sheen of sweat. his weight felt comforting now, anchoring you back to reality after pushing you to such intense heights. arms wrapped around you tenderly despite the roughness that preceded it.

gently, he lifted your face to meet his for a deep, slow kiss - a stark contrast to the fervor just moments ago. as he pulled back, his eyes were soft yet smoldering.

as you came down from your high, you felt his hands gently caressing your flushed skin, soothing the marks he'd left on you. he trailed light kisses down your neck and shoulder, murmuring sweet nothings that made your heart swell.

"you did so well...are you alright?" his voice held true concern mingled with satisfaction. he lifted himself up just enough to look you fully in the eyes, cradling your face.

you nodded, breathless, still sensitive and overwhelmed. his thumb tenderly wiped away your tears, his gaze searching yours. he seemed to see beyond the physical connection they just shared, into your very soul.

in that moment, despite the roughness, despite him pushing you past your limits, you felt a deep intimacy and trust between you. it was more than just bodies joining, it was the truest form of vulnerability, laid bare without apology or shield. you knew this was where you were meant to be - with him, like this. his slow, warm smile said he knew it too as he lowered himself once more, enveloping you fully in his embrace, the aftershocks still coursing through you both.

[grimsonandclover]

Write write write

filthier the better

Sending all the love 🫶🍑

What He's Made For

Sub!Patrick Zweig x Dom!Fem!Reader

Eeuuuhhhhhh I'm sorry, just been thinking a LOT about just having enough of Patrick's shit and taking it out on him. Turns out, it's exactly what he was aiming for.

I'm writing this in a horny, ovulation-fueled daze so it's not going to be great or even good but its what I need. not proofread at alllll

consider this a foreplay part one since it ends abruptly because i need to post this before i pass out (im so tired). i need the horny freaks of this fandom to let me know if a part two is desired because I WILL write it

MDNI

1.1k words

This is entirely self serving and I'm opening up to you guys. This is me sharing. No more 600 word angst and fluff it's time for PERSONAL FANTASIES. kind of a 180 after i JUST posted that little la chimera fic lmao

You're fighting, you don't even know what for. Patrick's been pushing your buttons, getting on your nerves, and testing your limits all night. God, fuck, he won't stop. Every little word from him, all day and now night, is spoken with the pure intention of pissing you off.

"Did you really ask him about the weather?" He'd scoff on the drive home from a party. "You're miserable at small talk. Really, it's embarrassing."

The walk to the apartment elevator: "And those shoes. You've been whining all night like a fucking baby. I told you not to wear them, but you'd rather be a prissy little princess than listen to me." You're silent, breaths quickening as your fist clench around your apartment keys in the elevator, watching the floor numbers tick up. "They're ugly, anyway. I don't really get why you insist on wearing them."

Unlocking the front door, fumbling and struggling because it's hard to see through the boiling water behind your eyes. "Do you need help with that? You had, like, what- one shot of tequila the entire party? Didn't think you were such a lightweight, can't even open a door. God, you're a mess."

Once the door is open, and a sickly smug smirk is plastered on that stupid face of his, you shove him in. The action is abrupt and unexpected, Patrick stumbling back and catching himself on the entryway wall. You almost miss the smirk returning to his lips. Who cares, it's time to speak your peace.

His back is on the wall and he stays where you threw him as you rip off your coat. "What the fuck is your problem, huh?" The coat is thrown to the floor and he blinks as you fist the collar of his stupid button up. Since when does he wear these, anyway? "All fucking night, you're in my ear like a bitch. Do you need a leash?"

He's been playing with fire so far. "Woof." Patrick grins.

The taunt makes your eyes narrow and glare harden. "You think it's funny? I've got a migrain because of it. I'd be in the middle of talking to someone and you'd start your shit again. That's what's embarrassing, not my small talk."

"You're like a child, how you beg for my attention. A dog. Is that what you are, Patrick?" You tug his collar and his breath catches. Drool pools in his mouth and he swallows, eyes zeroed in on his mouth while he still smirks. "Are you a misbehaving dog?"

He doesn't answer you, just giggles. In a sudden move, your hands are on his shoulders and you're pushing him forcefully to his knees. It's only because he doesn't anticipate it that it works. In a flash, your hand is gripping a fistful of curls at the back of Patrick's head, yanking it to make him look up at you. His mouth falls open, a soft gasp escaping from it. Yes. Finally.

"Are you," The words are spoken through your teeth, and this time he really is on the brink of drooling. "A fucking dog? Or are you going to start behaving like a man?"

His grin spreads again from ear to ear as Patrick slowly shakes his head. "Uh-uh."

Oh, that does it.

Your fingers tug his head further back and he gasps again at the slight sting of his scalp. Your other hand comes up, and before he can blink, a crack is heard through the entryway.

Patrick's cheek is red and stings so badly he can't feel the pain on his scalp anymore. It's so delicious he moans. He never knew until this exact moment that he liked to be slapped, lucky you.

"Wrong answer." He shivers at your tone, the blood in his body rushing to his cheek and to his dick. "Are you going to behave?"

"No." He whispers, eyes fluttering as he anticipates the next stri-

Oh, fuck. Patrick can feel a wet patch form in his boxers when you do it again-- he hasn't cum in five days, and Patrick's hyper aware of it now. The sound that comes from his mouth is almost pornographic and anyone else listening would swear that he must be at least getting his dick sucked and not just slapped around. The hand that slaps him moves to his mouth, index and middle finger shoved forcefully until you hit the back of his tongue. He wants to suck them, so he does, but then you shove them even further back until he gags a little. This isn't for him to enjoy (though he is anyway).

"Shut the fuck up." You sneer, fingers in his throat and hair, taking back the power he's had over you all night. They way he looks on his knees, peering up at you like you're his god with tears in his waterline and-- shit, that smile is still there. "I'll make you behave, then."

The hand in his hair lets go, pushing him back by the forehead till he hits the wall with a thunk. "Look at me."

He already was, but Patrick angles his head again, this time on his own, to better suit your needs-- especially when you tell him to open his mouth and you have a grip on his cheeks. You lean down the tiniest bit for better aim before collecting spit in your mouth, then spitting it into his. "My fucking mouth. Don't ruin it with all that cheap talk, acting like you don't know who owns it.

"Who owns it."

Patrick's got stars in his eyes as he swallows, so lost in you he forgets to answer-

A smack across his cheek again, another filthy moan. "You- you own it."

"Own what?"

"Me-- my mouth, my body, fucking all of it. It's yours."

"It's mine." You nod, gripping his cheeks again until his lips pucker. Patrick's drooling. "Mine. Don't use it against me, or I won't be so nice."

If this is you being nice, Patrick doesn't know what he'd be willing to do for mean. Every word you say, every tug, your spit in his mouth-- it all sends shivers of pleasure down his spine and through to his dick, aching and tenting in the shorts he wore to practice and then to a party. He truly is as filthy as you make him out to be.

You grab his hair again just to shove him in between your thighs, the material of your jeans rubbing harshly against his face and the irritated skin of his cheek. Patrick can smell you through it. He feels punch-drunk. This is what he was made for. This is his true purpose, not tennis.

His large palms slide up and down your thighs, hungry fingers begging at the button of your jeans. Off. He needs them off.

You let him peel them off you, not for him but for yourself. You need him to show you what he's actually good for. Why you keep him around.

[burningembers91]

Outside Looking In - Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Nam-Gyu has always been an outsider, watching as everyone passes him by. He spends his days trying to make a name for himself, and trying to show the beautiful hostess with a broken heart that he'd love her until the end of time, if only she would let him.

A/N: Based off of this ask. I wanted to say a HUGE thank you the anon who asked that I write for Nam-Gyu. I didn't really like his character in Squid Game, but I am SO happy with how this turned out. I wasn't planning on writing this so quickly, but the ask gave me such a good idea, I couldn't resist. Thank you, Anon. I hope you enjoy!

Park Nam-Gyu had spent his entire life desperately waiting to be noticed. Waiting to be noticed by his parents, his siblings, his class mates, employers, and women. But no matter how hard he tried he always just seemed to be on the edge of everyone’s periphery. He tried to be bolder, louder, a little more cocky; he’d met so many people like that who commanded attention, so he couldn’t understand why it didn’t work for him.

He'd taken a job as a Club Promoter to meet girls, but also on the hope that people would want to hang out with him, even if was just for discounted or free bar entry. He would spend all week advertising clubs and bars on Instagram, promising his old classmates he would be able to get them tickets for the hottest places in town, even the ones that were exclusively guest list only. It had worked for a while, and Nam-Gyu found himself basking in the popularity he’d always craved. But people were fickle, and once they got what they wanted, they soon left. There were hundreds of club promoters in the city, and most of them had better connections that he did. He never gave up though, spending each weekend following the crowds of drinkers that flooded through Seoul. He never quite managed to attract enough attention though, left to stand on the pavement clutching his leaflets as everyone passed him by.

Nam-Gyu knew he should throw the towel in. He didn’t make any money as a club promoter, still living in the tiny box room at his mum and dad’s house. He should really focus on a proper job, something in insurance or accounting; but then he really would be a nobody. Just another faceless ghost in a suit, robotically moving through life. He knew he was destined for greater things, if only he could just be noticed.

You were the other reason he didn’t want to quit the job that made him no money. You, the beautiful hostess, whose job it was to entertain the richer clientele who frequented the bars he promoted. Night after night you would bend to every will and demand of drunk men, smiling politely as they groped you, called you hideous names and tried to force themselves on you. You were tired of this life, tired of being nothing more than a pretty girl in a tight dress and pair of heels whose name no one bothered to learn. Except for Nam-Gyu; he knew your name; he saw the sadness harboured in your eyes. He watched as you stood in all kinds of weather, smiling and greeting people through gritted teeth. You were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he was so madly, so deeply in love with you. He could try and bullshit the drinkers with his false bravado, but he could never fool you. “What are you doing after work?” he asked you one night as you stood shivering on the pavement, savouring the last fewminutes of your break. “I’m going home,” you sighed, “I finish at 3am.” “Maybe I could walk you home,” he offered, taking in the goosebumps that littered your delicate skin. You shouldn’t be standing out here freezing. You should be inside, curled by a fire with someone who doted on you, cared for you. Nam-Gyu wished he could be that person. “I’m getting a taxi,” you told him. “Thanks though.”

You’d noticed Nam-Gyu plenty of times. He’d been working as a club promoter for as long as you’d been working as a hostess. He’d always seemed sweet, but he tried so hard to impress people who didn’t deserve his attention. He always looked out for you, keeping you company on quieter nights, buying you dinner if your tips didn’t cover your meal. You doubted he made much money either, but he always made sure you didn’t go hungry. He made you laugh, and when it was just the two of you, he was so different to the brash, cocky persona he adopted when he was working. You wondered why he felt the need to act like someone he wasn’t.  You wished you had his never-ending enthusiasm, his ability to keep a smile plastered to his face no matter what. People spoke to him like shit, and yet he never let it phase him. You on the other hand, you were finding it harder and harder to deal with the men who grabbed at you and treated you like a life-size Barbie doll, simply there for their amusement. Your dream was to become a florist, to open your own shop. But dreams required money, and you spent all yours just trying to get by each month. You knew how much Nam-Gyu cared for you, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him he was wasting his time. You were damaged goods, too broken to ever love again.

Nam-Gyu wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting outside for when he saw you. It was raining, a constant drizzle that soaked through his shirt and jeans, plastering his hair to his cheeks. He’d tried to gain entry to the very bar he’d been promoting, but the bouncer wouldn’t admit him. “We’re full,” he was told, despite the constant stream of patrons entering. He didn’t want to go home though, didn’t want to face his parents to whom he was a constant source of disappointment. So, he sat in the rain, waiting for you to show up on your break. This time however, you weren’t alone. There was a man with you, his hands round your waist. You were pushing him away, but he’d just grab you again, clearly unfazed or unaware that you weren’t interested in his advances. “Please stop,” you snapped, pulling your arm away as he tried to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Seriously, fuck off!” “Hey!” Nam-Gyu stood up, marching over to where you stood, his fists balled. “Leave her alone! She said she’s not interested.” He couldn’t make out the man’s response; the guy was too drunk to form words coherently, but apparently not to drunk to harass you. “It’s fine, honestly,” you told him, “I’m used to it. My manager has called him a cab, he’ll be gone soon.” But your eyes were so sad, your mouth trembling as you held back tears. Nam-Gyu wished he could take the sadness away from you, wished he could see a smile light up your face.

He waited for you until the bar closed, just in case anyone else tried to take advantage of you. “Why are you still here?” you sighed, pitying the rain-soaked man who never gave up on you. “I wanted to make sure you got home ok,” he told you, trying to hide the shivers that wracked his body. “I’m fine, honestly.” You started walking, your tips not enough to pay for a taxi, and Nam-Gyu followed. You wished you could open up and let him in; you wished you weren’t so broken. But a lifetime of toxic relationships had left you damaged. You were so used to being hurt that you didn’t think anyone could fix you, not even the sweet club promoter who stood waiting for you in the rain. You walked home in silence, enjoying his company but too scared to admit it to him. You stopped as you got the front of your apartment, turning to say goodnight to the man you desperately wished you could love back.

“I wouldn’t treat you like those men do,” Nam-Gyu whispered, “I’d make sure you never had to work in a place like that ever again. I’d hold you every night and tell you how lucky I was to have you.” “If you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did.” You smiled sadly, your hand gently clasping his cheek. He leaned into your touch, relishing the sensation against his freezing cold skin. You left him standing out there, watching you as you made your way up the stairs to your place.

He forced himself to turn and walk home, the rain never once ceasing. Nam-Gyu would probably always be a nobody, but to you, he was desperate to be a someone.

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

The Great War

A/N: So this was made in response to a request but it ended up blossoming into a full 2K word fic adjacent and I had to split it into two posts! Anyways, if you enjoy sexy and occasionally soft Sevika, dramatic arguments that result in comfort, and mob-wife vibes… enjoy!

Warnings: Not smut but mentions of sex and both characters are D O W N B A D.. A lot of cussing and mentions of violence.

Pairing: Butch!Sevika X Femme!Reader who is super outgoing and forward

🂱 So the two of you’ve met briefly around town, kinda running in the same circles. You notice her right away but you don’t actually talk until she shows up at work — The Last Drop.

🂱 You’re a server and your charisma, magnetism, and punchy/blunt sort of energy makes you well suited to hospitality. You’re the bubbly outgoing type of waitress who gets their table laughing and in a good spirits with ur contagious good vibes.

🂱 You beat the other waitress to claim Sevika’s table, and it’s on.

🂱 She would get a kick out of it — your shamelessness. She really likes the forward thing, timidity makes her roll her eyes. Life’s too short for playing hard to get! Plus, she’s an adult. And a literal revolutionary who quite literally does not have the time for all that.

🂱 Before you learn each others names you endearingly and lightheartedly call her “butchy,” or something like that. She calls you sweetheart.

🂱 You’d pour her beers on the house. You’d lean over the bar counter on ur elbows, making sure ur titties look good and perky. And if it was just the two of you, she would not hide her ogling.

🂱 It’d be a bit of a game to you two. Making the other person crack, being the first to back down/get all blushy. You’d be all flirty-flirty over the bar counter, she’d pull you into her lap during her card game. It’s like how straight guys play gay chicken. Except ur actually gay so it would just be chicken.

🂱 And she’s smoking indoors, as per us. You ask if you can have a hit. She shotguns it into ur mouth and you blow it upward, once again drawing attention to your décolletage, to the girls hehe

🂱 Eventually she just asks you straight up if you wanna spend the night. Maybe you take her up on it, maybe you don’t. Either way, she’s not the fuckboy (fuckbutch?) hit it n quit it type. She’s an adult woman with emotional intelligence and communication skills goddammit and she’s gonna ask you to dinner.

🂱 Takes u to the fanciest place in the undercity, orders everything on the menu trying to flex her wallet and impress u. Whether or not u ask for it she gets you one of those weird rich people desserts where they make part of the preparation an “experience.” like they pour hot liquid over a hollow chocolate shell and it cracks open and reveals a little cake inside. Or something involving a blowtorch.

🂱 Anyways this whole time ur just rubbing ur lil high heeled foot up her pant leg under the table and twirling ur hair, touching her arm, etc. Naughty girl — she mock-scolds you telepathically with a dommy little eyebrow raise thing.

“Here? Now? I pull out all the stops to give you a magical evening and you already wanna leave and bang it out. That’s real classy, sweetheart.”

🂱 You’re both rather bold and upfront, obviously. Strong personalities, fire sign energy — which means you butt heads often. Your relationship is super intense and fiery so every day is like a soap opera, or like The Real Mob Wives of Staten Island in levels of drama.

“Why the hell didn’t you come home last night? And why did i have to find out from Vivi that she saw you cracking skulls in a fishing boat by the pier?”

“Babygirl I told you I was taking care of business. Sweetheart, uprisings don’t happen overnight, it’s all about biding time and strategically applying political pressure in Topside-”

“Jesus, Mary, and the goddamn camels you and your strategic goddamn pressure. I’ll tell you I’ve fucking had it with you and your fucking pressure. You wanna make me look like an idiot? When me and my girlfriends are sitting drinking mimosas for brunch at Jarrod's and they ask me ‘Y/N where’s that woman of yours?’ And i have to look them in the eyes and say “Clint Eastwood was unable to join us as she had a prior engagement strategically applying pressure. To the back of enforcers’ skulls. With a fucking baseball bat. Like a common thug. Mind you, I’m a classy lady all by my lonesome on a Sunday fucking morning-"

“Classy lady I’ll fucking say. You’d think I plan on growing old with Mrs. Fucking Vanderbilt, the way you want to buy ten thousand pairs of red high heels-“

“Omg babe you wanna grow old with me?”

“-that all look exactly the fucking same, by the way. ‘Burnt orange’ and ‘vermillion’ and ‘chartreuse’ or whatever the fuck — You know it’s just fucking red.

“Chartreuse is green, since you wanna be a smartass,”

“Don’t gaslight me, woman. Where do you even plan on wearing those? We live in an oversized sewer pipe. Not the magical land of Oz. I told you who i was when you met me. I told you this is what I do. And you better get used to it if you wanna keep charging my card at every boutique within a ten mile radius,”

“Or what? Gonna give me the spiel again, talk me to death about the uprising and the political elites and the our time is imminent, y/n. Gonna threaten me like you do your little fishing buddies? Gonna apply me some strategic fucking pressure?”

“That’s enough.” Sevika hissed, scary calm. She kicks the pantry door shut and whips around, pointing at you with her cigarette. “I’ve had enough of this shit. You’re done, Missy.”

“Beg pardon? I’ll decide when I’m done, thank you very much. You’ve got some nerve telling me when to speak when I can’t even reach you half the time. I had to track down your little boss the other day — brought him a lovely casserole — and ask if he could pass on a message for me! ‘Excuse me Mr. Scaryman Eye of Zaun, sir, could you possibly ask Zorro if she might head home as soon as she’s done busting kneecaps? And to arrive in a clean shirt, as my parents are in town and they prefer to greet their daughter-in-law when she’s not covered in someone’s intravenous blood. Thank you kindly.’”

“You showed up at work? Wait- you talked to Silco? Babe I told you to stay the fuck away from there!”

“Please. He may be the kingpin of the city or whatever, but I make a gorgeous quiche. Trust me, babe. Once he tastes my cooking, I am henceforth immune to whatever machiavellian basement torture chamber you brutes probably use as your break room.”

🂱 Sorry guys, got a little carried away there. Point is, one minute you’re screaming at each other and dramatically slamming doors and throwing shit, the next you’re fucking on the kitchen floor like the world’s about to end. You guys basically co-authored the book on how to be an absolute nightmare of an upstairs neighbor. The entire building feels the floor shaking and no one knows if the screaming is just you guys having a little too much fun for 2pm on a Tuesday, or if they’re gonna see this on the news tomorrow.

🂱 Kidding! At the end of the day, trust and loyalty are the foundations of your relationship. You love each other wildly, deeply, and passionately.

🂱 Sevika has a strict no going to bed angry policy. If you’d gotten into it that evening you might give her the cold shoulder, curl up facing away from her in the quiet moments before bed. She’s reading by the lantern on the bedside table — an upcycled barstool the two of you stole from your old job at The Last Drop one evening when you were in a particularly silly mood.

🂱 She catches your gaze a couple times as you stare over your shoulder to see if she’s paying attention to you, and then you immediately turn and go back to ignoring her. She takes off her reading glasses, tosses her book onto the bed, and rolls over to you, wrapping her arm around you from the back.

“Hey baby?” She kisses your shoulder and the back of your head since you still won’t look at her, and she continues. “Love of my life? Light of my world? Keeper of my soul and partner in crime through the sea of trials we call the fucked-up game of life?” You turn slightly to give her a glaring side eye.

“…What do you want.”

“Still mad at me, babygirl?”

“Not at all. Why on earth would I be mad?”

“I’m sorryyy,” she draws it out, cooing at you all soft and sing-songy. If the ne’erdowells who often got their asses handed to them by her and her little team could see this Sevika, they’d think they lost their mind. Hell, if any punk on the street could see this Sevika they’d think they lost their mind. It made your knees weak the way she undid herself and softened for you. For only you. You fought the smile forming and she continued murmuring against your skin.

“It’s all this bullshit at work Silco’s got me taking care of. I’m neglecting my little lady, I’m stretched so thin. It’s too much…”

“Too much…?” You echo. “Talk to me, love. Silco’s not letting you catch a breather?”

She grunts in affirmation against your shoulder: “Mm-hrmm”

“Does my baby have the whooole wide world on her poor, tired, buff, strong, sexy shoulders-EEK!” She gleefully flips you over to face her, making you cackle. You’ve been disarmed. At her mercy. You always were.

She leans forward to bonk her forehead against yours.

“Glad someone in this cruel world finally understands me and my line of work,” she says, half-joking.

“No one understands the importance of your job better than me, babe.” You continue, at this point unable to remove the sarcasm from your tone even if you tried. She nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder facedown, head supported by the cushiness of your tit. You weave your fingers in her hair.

“The honorable burden of great duty… The unfathomable smothering of moral obligation, even. One might describe it as an immensely… strategic pressure-”

“-For FUCK’s SAKE”

“You have worker’s rights, you know! Demand an hour off — paid — in your underground torture chamber-breakroom. You’re entitled to relax and sip coffee as you watch the bodies hit the floor, goddammit!”

Feigning exasperation, Sev dramatically collapses backward starfish-style on the old-ass creaky-ass decrepit-ass daddy longlegs convention of a double bed the two of you share; in a shithole apartment, in a shady-ass neighborhood, in a collapsing city. That’s how it was between the two of you. Underneath it all, she trusts that you’ll always be there to kiss her wounds, to make sure her collar is straight and there’s no shmutz on her face. You trust that at the end of the day, it’s you she’s coming home to.

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle from Hell (4)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Following the events of PART THREE, things begin to heat up.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), piv sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk/nicknames, kissing, messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; hurt/comfort; angsty angst; allusions to violence; miscommunication; jealousy

Series Masterlist

A/N: I continue to be overwhelmed by the love you all have given this series. I appreciate you all so much. Everyone who have commented, reblogged and followed- thank you so much. I love reading everything and I have had so much fun seeing everyone's reactions. It fills me with so much joy. Let me know what you think of this next chapter!

Please vote for Eddie or Steve in the poll at the end while it is live! The results will be how I end this series <3 BUT, if you want me to do an alternative ending as like a bonus chapter let me know cause I'd love to do that too.

His knuckles were white from his grip on the steering wheel, Steve felt like he lost control of his actions as he resolved to follow Eddie’s van. Eddie had said you wanted space, but now he’s here picking you up from the game? What the actual fuck. He’s fuming, the longer the night goes on. He should’ve just gone home, probably. But he was so angry at himself for taking forever, he couldn’t wait another second. He’d finally had the epiphany. He loves you. He wants you so badly, he can’t find it in him to care if he ruins everything. 

Earlier that day, it had hit him all at once. That overwhelming, all encompassing realization that stopped him dead in his tracks. Robin had left for the day, and he was stuck behind the counter rewinding returned tapes. He’d been sitting with his own thoughts. He was thinking about that dream, and then he was also just thinking about you. You took up all his senses- all he could think about was you. He looked back on shared moments with you in a different light. So many moments between the two of you that would’ve been your start. How could he have not seen it, seen you, all this time? 

Oh. 

Oh. 

He’d bailed on the rest of his shift at Family Video, fuck it. Keith wouldn’t fire him anyways. He knew Robin mentioned the game- of course you’d be there. He’d realized he loved you and didn’t want to waste another second. He wanted to find you in the crowd, climb up over the stands to whoever you were, and finally fucking kiss you. It was his grand gesture. 

His plan would have worked, but it was easier said than done. The confidence he felt before was wiped from him when he saw the way your face fell. He thought you didn’t want to see him, and that you were upset to run into him. He misread your sadness for distaste and resentment. That brief moment made his whole world come tumbling down around him. You were sad because you missed him, but he didn’t know that. So his plan fumbled in a moment of panic. 

Seeing you with Eddie had been his final straw. He felt like a ticking clock counting down was looming over his head. He was running out of time, he was losing you. He couldn’t let that happen. Was he going about it the right way? Probably not, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care in the least as he stormed over. Everything he’d been feeling was heightened. He was panicked and desperate and angry and so fucking jealous. This should’ve been him with you, driving you home in his car, and he had fucked that up. 

Eddie remembers how nervous he was when he picked you up for the dance that Friday night. He’d done his best to tame his hair, and Wayne let him borrow his suit. Wayne had stayed to help with his tie and to give him a talking to about how to be a gentleman when Eddie went to pick you up. 

“Actually go up to the goddamn door and knock. Say good evening to her parents,” Wayne instructed. “Make sure you hold her hand to help her down the stairs, open her car door, hold the door for her…” 

“Wayne I know, I know,” Eddie fused, worried he was going to be late. “It’s not a date anyways,” Eddie insists, although he wished it was. Wayne scoffs. 

“Whatever you say,” he said, rolling his eyes at Eddie. 

“Lemme get a picture,” Wayne had insisted, stopping Eddie from running out the door. Grumbling the whole time, Eddie stood in their little kitchen while Wayne fumbled with his old camera. “You never look halfway decent, gotta capture it for the book.” 

The photo is still hanging up on Wayne’s fridge to this day. Eddie has not worn a suit since. 

Arriving at your house was so daunting to Eddie. He’d never really met your parents before. Just in passing when he’d pick you up or drop you off for school. He’d been to your house before, you’d hosted a few times for Hellfire- but it was never anything like this. This was special. 

He went up to the door like Wayne instructed and he shook your dad’s hand. He was worried that they’d judge him- they would hate his hair or something. It’s the first time he’s relieved that his tattoos aren’t out on display. They were both kind to him, but he could tell they were not sure how to react to him. Self-conscious, he worried they were disappointed because he wasn’t Steve. Eddie wasn’t who they pictured for you. They envisioned you with Steve. That was they future they had planned. 

Eddie thought you looked absolutely unreal that night. He always thought that those scenes where the girl makes her grand entrance and floats down the stairs were corny. Until it happened to him and it felt like time stopped. Your descent down the stairs after your mom called you down had Eddie in a trance. You were angelic in your dress, the one Eddie will pretend you bought for him- not for Steve. Eddie must have been staring with his mouth agape, because your father needed to clear his throat for Eddie to realize you’d been expectantly waiting for him to say something. Literally anything. 

“You look beautiful,” Eddie marveled, and you giggled a shy thank you. A few hundred photos later and you both were finally on your way. 

 You were right, the Snow Ball was not Eddie’s scene at all. He didn’t like the music, or the people, but he was just so happy to be spending time with you that he couldn't care about literally anything else. You seemed happy too. Eddie thought you were glowing. He even danced to every song you wanted and took the cheesy photo booth pictures. You tore the photo strip in half so you could each have some. You use yours as a bookmark to this day and Eddie’s is still clipped to the visor in the van. 

You’d hardly even noticed Steve the whole night. Eddie kept you on your feet and kept you laughing so hard your stomach hurt. 

The bang on the side of the van made you jump. You both were startled. You watched as Eddie’s eyes widened as the panic set in for both of you. Neither of you had ever seen Steve like this, it wasn’t his nature. You both didn’t know what to do. 

“Just wait here,” Eddie said comfortingly, before jumping out of the van. “I’ll talk to him.” 

Steve stood outside waiting impatiently, his hands on his hips as his chest rapidly rose and fell. His hair was messy, as you watched from the side mirror, you could tell he’d been tugging at it- a nervous habit of his you knew quite well. 

“What the fuck is this?” He accuses. Eddie offers his hands up in surrender jokingly. 

“Come on Steve…” 

“You told me she wanted space! Then you swoop in and pull this shit?” 

“She did want space- not to be fucking ignored for weeks!” Eddie points out. “You had every opportunity and you just left her alone, so how long did you expect me to just stand around while you play these fucking mind games with her? I was the bigger person, Steve! I was willing to literally take myself out of the fucking equation if you both wanted each other- and you didn’t do shit!” 

Steve looks towards the van and you make eye contact in the side mirror. He looks devastated under the outward projection of anger. It’s like you’re a million miles away. He can’t be too late. He just couldn’t. How is he supposed to just walk away after everything? Is this just it? He pleads that you’ll do something- say something- anything! Just tell him you still care. 

You avert your gaze. Steve shallows harshly. 

Eddie crosses his arms, and steps in front of Steve’s view of you. “Come on man,” Steve pleads, voice cracking. “Let me just talk to her.” 

Eddie looks to you, and you shake your head “no.” 

“How about you call her tomorrow when you cool off? You’re scaring her,” Eddie proposes. 

“You don’t speak for her,” Steve argues. “Baby, please,” he pleads looking over Eddie’s shoulder. 

Baby? Eddie fumes- he can not be serious. 

You roll down the window a crack. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Steve. I don’t want to talk to you right now,” you shout from the van. Before he can respond, you crank the window back up. 

“Fine,” Steve glares at Eddie. It’s not over, but he’ll concede for now- if it’s what you want. He slams his car door shut before speeding away, the car screaming as he pulled away as quickly as he could. 

He knew his parents would be gone, so he opted to go to their house to crash tonight. He couldn’t bear facing Eddie back at their place after this. 

You don’t even realize that you’d be crying until you feel Eddie’s arms pull you in for a hug. He rubs your back comforting you as you are shocked at what just happened. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your hair before placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Let me bring you home, yeah?” 

The ride back to your apartment is silent, neither one of you knowing what to say. Eddie doesn’t want to push, and you’re too exhausted to get into it. You rest your forehead on the cold glass of the window to help your head. Eddie wants to reach out and hold your hand as he drives, but he keeps his distance. 

Eddie always walks you all the way to your front door, even after you’ve told him he doesn’t have to so many times. Wayne would kill me, he would joke. He held the door open for you so you could hop out. He held your arm, helping you navigate the icy walk. And he walked you upstairs to your apartment. 

There’s a piece of paper taped to the front of the door. 

I decided to spend the night at Vicky’s. Do with that information what you will. - Robin 

“I don’t want to be alone,” you admit, a little panicked knowing you’d be walking into an empty apartment. Eddie sighs, biting his lip nervously. Steve is going to never want to see him again, he’s sure of it. 

“I can stay if that would make you feel better?” He offers. You nod. 

“Please.” 

You pull the note down and toss it in the bin on your way inside. Eddie follows after you, kicking off his boots in the entryway. You both hang up your coats. You move over to the thermostat and turn it up. Eddie lingers in the living room, not quite sure what to do with himself. You both say nothing for a few moments. 

“Eddie, I’m so sorry about all of this,” you say finally. “Just everything- everything is falling apart it feels like.”

“None of this is your fault- it’s really not anyone’s fault…well, except mine,” he says, like a confessional and he takes a step closer. 

“Yeah,” you reply softly, matching his step. 

The air in the room was thick with tension between the two of you. In the silence and still, there was a pull dragging you into each other. 

“The whole thing is quite unfortunate really,” he contemplates, a knowing smile forming on his face. One step. 

“Most unfortunate,” you whisper. One step. He reaches out and intertwines with fingers with his. 

“Awful,” he whispers, tracing circles on your hands with his thumb gently. It sears through you completely. 

He tilts his head and his lips ghost over yours. Your body feels like it’s on fire being so close to him. The first kiss is so delicate, and the familiar feeling ignites in you. It’s perfect, being held by him by this. 

His lips are softer than you expect when they slot against yours. You let yourself forget about everything else in that moment- everything just melts away at his touch. Your brain melts at the sensation and warmth spreads throughout your whole body. You part your lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss and he does gladly. 

Waiting for a kiss like this was worth it, Eddie thinks. All the nights he spent thinking about it and all the times he held back from touching you… all of it felt like nothing as you fill up all his senses. It’s almost too much. 

“Sweetheart… please,” he begs, mumbling against your lips. His hands rest on the expanse of your back and the sensation sends a shiver up your spine. You gently tug by his belt loops closer to you, so your body is flush against his. You moan softly against his lips. 

Without disentangling himself from you, he guides you as you walk backwards towards the door of your bedroom. His hands make everywhere on your skin burn in their wake as he brings them down your back, to your hip, then settle firmly on your ass. It makes you whimper. 

The back of you knees touch the edge of your bed, and you let yourself fall backwards- pulling Eddie to climb on top of you. His hair tickles as it curtains your faces, and he leans in to press hot kisses to your jaw and down your neck, a hickey forming right where he ends just above your collarbone. 

When he pulls back briefly, you take the opportunity to pull your sweater over your head and toss it to the floor. Eddie’s movements stutter, his eyes hungrily taking in all of the newly exposed skin. You were a vision. “Shit,” he breathes, “look at you.” 

He wastes no time pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. Warmth rushes to your core at the sight of his tattoos, the subtle muscle under his pale skin, the chain around his neck, the happy trail that leads down to wear his jeans are hanging low on his hips and showing off a prominent bulge… you’re fucked. He sits up on his knees over your thighs and your body aches at the separation. 

You watch as he takes his hair and gathers it together in his hands. Making a ponytail should not be this sexy, but it’s Eddie. He winks at you as he does when he notices the way you’re staring with your mouth open, heaving breathing. 

“Take these off, sweetheart,” Eddie hums, nodding down to your jeans as he pulls the elastic from his wrist around to secure it in his hair. You’re face is warm as you nod, wiggling out of them and kicking them away. You’re left in just your bra and panties and spread out before him. 

“These are so pretty,” he muses, teasingly, running his ringed fingers over the skin just above the edge of your panties. He kneels down on the floor at the foot of the bad, hooking your legs over his shoulders in one fluid motion. “So pretty,” he mumbles, pressing delicate, teasing kisses to your inner thighs as his hands rub up and down the length of your legs. 

His eyes are directly in line with the wet spot that has formed on your panties. It aches, and you’re desperate for him to do something about it. Without him even touching you yet, you’re squirming in the anticipation that he will do something to soothe the sensation that has been building up in  your core. 

He presses a kiss to your heat over your panties, his nose pressing against your clit and the feeling makes you gasp, relieved for just the littlest amount of contact. Satisfied with your response to him, he hooks his thumb through your panties, and drags them aside- the metal of his rings feel cool against the hotness of your skin and it makes you flutter. 

He grins devilishly, “All of this for me, pretty girl?” 

One hand holds your panties, the other rests on your hip to hold you steady when Eddie wastes no time, devouring you. His nose against your clit, his tongue lapping at your arousal- it was too much. He was like a man starved. How dare you deny him this for so long. He was desperate to taste you, and he groans- he knew you’d be so fucking sweet. He just knew it. 

He pulls back to rub his thumb over your clit, making circles that feel so good you could cry. You’re so needy, writhing in his arms as you feel a familiar knot form in your stomach. With his thumb firmly in place, he returns to latch his tongue back to you. 

“Eddie,” you whine, your hands tangles in your sheets to stabilize yourself. Your head is spinning, and you know you’re so fucking close. “Please,” you cry desperately at the sensation, chasing your climax. 

Eddie continues his pace, the exact way you need him to and he continues to work you through your first orgasm. He kisses your thighs when you finish and he smiles at you- his face glistening with your slick. Cheeky bastard. He kisses your legs, your stomach and all the way back up to your lips, tasting yourself on him. He tugs off your panties and tosses them on the floor. Something about making you cum, a switch flipped in Eddie. 

He’s kissing you like he’s depending on it to survive, he’s feeling confident and desperate to do that again. He practically growls against your skin, face buried in your neck. He works off his jeans and boxers. Your mouth waters. He’s gorgeous fucking everywhere. 

“Your turn,” you mumble, unhooking your bra, eyes wandering to Eddie’s hard cock. He shakes his head, kissing you again. Fuck if he doesn’t want that, but he can’t trust himself to not completely fall apart. 

“Next time, sweetheart,” he promises, and you pout. “Need to fuck you,” he mutters against your lips, his blood breath heavy against yours. You moan at his words. 

“Please, Eds,” you drawl, “need you inside me.” 

He teases your entrance, the top of his cock so painfully close to pushing inside you. “I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll forget all about Steve, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, fuck, Eddie please,” you whine, you hips trying to create some friction, already desperate and needy for another release. Oh, you liked that, Eddie muses. He can deliver. 

“He doesn’t deserve this pretty pussy does he?” Eddie muses, pushing in just the tip of his cock, watching as you fall apart, desperate for more of him. “This perfect… fuck, tight pussy,” he moans, pushing himself fully into you. 

“Can’t take care of you as good as I can,” he promises, thrusting into you at just the right, hitting that spot that makes your brain go stupid. You feel so full of him, you can’t imagine anyone feeling better than Eddie by the way he’s fucking into you. 

“He’s never gonna fuck you as good as this,” Eddie promises. You can believe it. He leans down and kisses your neck, his hand massaging your breast, tugging gently at your hard nipple before giving the same care and attention to the other one as well. He whispers more filthy things against your neck, and you moan- your body responding to his so well. 

“Fit around me so good, sweetheart,” he muses, hot kisses trailing over the stance of your neck, “you take my cock so well.” 

“Such a good girl… making my cock all messy,” he praises, and then he presses his lips to yours in a desperately messy kiss. “Fuck, sweetheart…” 

Tears threaten the corners of your eyes, it all is too good, too overwhelming. You’re so over sensitive from your first orgasm, you are reaching your peak again, all too quickly for your liking. You can’t help it- he feels too good and he’s so fucking attentive and fuck- you feel so close. 

“Cum on my cock princess,” Eddie encourages, feeling you tighten around his cock. “you’re gonna look so good for me, let me see you cum for me, yeah?” 

He holds your cheeks in his hand, your lips squished together as you look up at him, wide eyed. “You can do it, be a good girl and cum all over my cock,” he encourages. It’s just enough to make you fall apart all over again. Messy things spilling from your mouth as your body pulses and he continues his pace, working you through it- kissing your forehead. 

Eddie pulls out, making a mess on your stomach as he cums. Exhausted, he collapses on the bed next to you. He kisses you softly, praising you for being so good for him. It makes you feel like putty. He disappears for a second, disappearing behind the door. He comes back with water for you and a warm cloth. He kisses you, making you take the water from him, and then he cleans you up gently, kissing your body all over after the job is done. 

You don’t know what you’re going to say to Steve. All you care about now, is burrowing yourself into Eddie’s chest. For the first time in weeks, you and Eddie both actually sleep soundly, limbs tangled together- your bodies intertwined. 

Taglist: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington

[the-kr8tor]

Rose Hips + ⭐️ : Jason Todd and fae!reader in an AU where he and reader have been friends since he was on the streets and wandering forests and reader gives up their immortality to save Jason after he’s been killed by Joker c:

Gasp! A jason todd fic from me?! 😂 Thank you for the request, tony!!! I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for vague clothing), reader has a nickname, robin! Jason Todd, can be read as platonic, fae! Reader, CW injury, CW blood, TW death, hurt/comfort.

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Navigation

Flames lick at your feet, embers crackling as the fire eats away at your home. Animals flee, tails tucked away in fear of it getting singed, but you, with the unshed tears in your eyes, and bare feet running across the glade– you run towards the direction of the searing heat. Its source is a man-made building made of stone and glass, something you thought was invincible. But as you get closer and closer, its destruction becomes inevitable.

All things must come to an end, but you have to try to save him. Jason, the blue eyed menace you've come accustomed to. His smile lingers in your mind, laughter echoing in your ears. You can still remember the day you met him, bruised and battered, skin blooming into crimson and royal purple— a colour you've only seen in flowers. The meeting was bound by fate, like the vines crawling up your arms and around your torso; a fate etched into stone. And yet you once turned it away, turned him away because he wasn't supposed to be here in the dark woods all alone, moreso with a being such as you. You tried to scare him then, made yourself look like a powerful deity of the forest only to be met by a bout of boyish laughter.

“You look like a cheap knock-off of poison ivy!” He once said to you as he clutched his stomach from laughter.

You didn't know poison ivy was a laughing matter for humans when its touch could blossom into boils. It got you curious then, what else do humans think about the world around them? How do they think now that they ride metal horses and run on rubber feet? So you let him go back to your abode, sometimes tending to his wounds with herbs as he talks nonstop about his life outside.

Soon all the monthly visits became weekly, then turned into daily visits. You ask him questions about his kind, and he answers, mostly in a joking manner. You never offered him your food, knowing that he doesn't deserve the life to be shackled with you for hundreds of years. He deserves better. You've only kept him company, a friend for him to talk to, someone to laugh with, someone he would care for and in turn you'd care for him too. Until he disappeared for almost a year, you didn't try to find him then, you only hoped that he's alright, that he's still alive and keeping that smile on him. Then he comes back with less bruises on his skin, no blood splattered on his shirt. And his eyes shine with something anew. Hope. He tells you of a friend, someone who helped him just like you have. Jason seemed happy despite the cracked knuckles, and the ache in his muscles, he found his purpose. And you were happy for him, told him that he's always welcome in your forest if he ever got tired of his bat companion.

Jason was younger back then, toughened to survive the harsh realities of humankind. He still is. While you've survived a millennia from their brutality with a stiff lip, he fought back, ever a fighter, a defender. So here you are, running to fight for him, to defend him when no one came to save him.

You leave the thicket, skin warm, heat radiating off of your primordial skin. The vines snaking around your forearm tightens, a tell of your worries for the blue eyed boy.

The fire devours the stone building, its heat blasting at your face as you try to pass its flaming curtains. With a wave of your hand, you weave a wall of vines, its protruding thorns sharper than teeth. It shields your form from the flames that threaten to bite and nick at your skin. Entering the destruction, your eyes rapidly scan the place, hoping, wishing that you're not too late. You know he's here, but you barely feel his soul anymore. His warmth is tamped down by the embers kissing your flesh.

As you get further and further inside, the more danger you've put yourself in. You might be immortal, but you're not immune to the very thing that could single handedly destroy your home. The vines shield your form, but not enough as embers flicker too close to you. You're not afraid of dying, you've lived a thousand lifetimes, enough for someone to wish for an end. But as death knocks, not on your door but on Jason's limp body— you fear death.

“Jason!” Bolting towards him, you immediately kneel before him, hands patting away the flames eating away at him. Darkened smoke billows out from everywhere you see, and as you cup his cheek, he coughs weekly, eyes cracking open at the familiar sight of you. “Jason. I'm here, I'll get you out.” Before you could carry him, he grabs your wrist weakly.

“M–My mom.” He wheezes, soot covering his face. “Get h–her out first.”

You now notice another form in the building, and you realize why you haven't felt her presence until he told you.

“Jay, I'm sorry, she's gone.” You squeeze him once as tears flow down his cheeks, leaving a clean trail down his face. “I'll come get her out, but you come first.”

“B–But.” He coughs again, dry heaving on the concrete floor, eyes darting over to the limp body just a few feet away from him.

“I'll go back for her, I promise.” Despite his protest, you place your arm under his legs and back, carrying him as if he weighed nothing.

His face is marred by a beating, but under it, under all the caked blood and swollen eyes, he's still the same Jason you know. He's older now since you last saw him, but he's still a fighter.

He clings to you tiredly, fists holding onto a vine weaved across your chest. His breathing slows, eyes darting over to the simple chain of beads around your neck.

“You k–kept it.” It's getting harder for him to talk. You don't waste time sprinting away from the scene.

“Of course I did.” Wind and fire rushes at you, cheeks feeling like it's being boiled, and feet slowly burning away by the heated stone. “You made it.”

“You said—” he coughs, face tucked away on your bicep. “You said it was crudely made.”

“I lied, Jay.” Your eyes stings from the smoke, but you blink it away as you're close to the exit. “Stay awake for me.” Your voice doesn't tremble, but fear ebbs out of you in waves.

Jason manages to smile, patting the necklace weekly. “Liar.” He says, head lolling over your arm.

“Jason!” You wrap him closer, shielding him from a falling beam that's now blocking your path. “No!” Desperation ropes you in place, head craning down to look at his lifeless eyes.

“No.” You refuse for it to end this way.

With a burst of energy, you raise a fist, calling forth a tree to sprout from underneath the cracked concrete. Its trunk gives you enough leverage to make a new path above the flames, giving you a bridge. As you walk over its wooden body, you can hear it scream in agony.

You apologize as it gets snuffed out by the flames in time for you to push yourself and Jason out of the fiery abyss.

You don't waste time in returning to the thicket with Jason in tow, hoping that you have enough time to revive him. But as your knees give out from under you, plummeting down on the forest floor but away from the fanning flames. You realize that you can't keep your promise to him.

Cradling his head, you feel how cold he is under your touch. But there's still a spark in him, enough for you to do everything you can to yank him away from death's cold embrace.

Placing your head atop his own, you murmur words laced with an incantation— one you're forbidden to say. It could mean your destruction, but it could also give him life.

As you feel the air swirling around you, your power seeps out of you like sunrays. Light fights its way from underneath your ancient flesh, cracking you open, burning away the vines encompassing around you, and bathing Jason in its ethereal light.

It hurts more than flames, as if your form is being ripped away from your very being. With a muffled scream, your vision darkens as you fall forward and atop his chest.

Raindrops slowly drip from the above, raining down on both of your forms.

—

Jason wakes up to find you breathing above him, cheek pressed atop the burnt material of his suit. Your eyes are closed, fingers gripping at his arm like he's about to run away from you whilst you slept. His eyes are met with dappled sunlight, and his ears pick up a birdsong as the breeze kisses his cheek.

He blinks the heaviness behind his eyes away. There's no pain throbbing on his face and body, lungs breathing fine, even better than before. It's as if nothing ever happened to him. But when he feels your beating heart from above him, he knows something is amiss.

“Hey,” Jason sits up, hand cradling the back of your head as he tries to wake you up. “C’mon, wake up.”

You crack one eye open, nose scrunching up from the rude awakening. “Jay?”

He beams at you, chuckling at the drool running down your chin. “I've never seen you sleep.” His hands are warm and nice against your skin, so you indulge yourself by leaning against him. It seems that the simple act made him grin further. “Your heart's beating really fast, Grinch.”

You roll your eyes, wiping away at your chin. “You've never seen me sleep because fae people don't sleep.” Moving away and sitting up on your own, you narrow your eyes at his smiling face. “I told you not to call me that sour name.” Despite your words, you smile at him, happy that your incantation worked and he's alive. But there's a gnawing feeling at your chest, a worry that he's a figment of your grief stricken mind.

“Are you real?” You ask, voice small.

Jason takes your hand and places it atop his beating heart. “I'm real,” he notices that your arms are free of any vines binding you. He then takes the same hand and places it on your chest. “And you are too.”

Your eyes widen at the unfamiliar heavy feeling. “I'm—!”

Lunging at you, Jason embraces you on the forest floor as the early morning sun beams down on you. “Mortal.” You hug back, face hiding on the crook of his neck. He mirrors you, smiling against you. “And alive.”

“We both are.”

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

[tarnishedsilverjewelry]

Hola! Me alegro de ver otro blog de M ^^

Can I request Bi-Han as a parent of a boy or girl around 4 or 5 years old who is very clingy? they don't leave his side and follow him wherever he goes. I love clingy kids, they're so adorable, and I definitely love reading domestic Bi-han.

What fatherhood does to a man

A/n: It’s getting harder and harder to NOT name these ‘The father That stepped up’ guys😭 Also, ah yes the grumpy old man and adopted sunshine child trope my BELOVED!!!! Also I see everyone saying Bi Han is mean and I’ve seen some ppl make him abusive WHICH IS WRONG!!!!! He is raised on tradition!!! Tomas says a line that says “his father’s honor” insisted on taking him in!! HES GRUFF AND A GENTLEMAN!!! HES ONLY MEAN TO HIS BROTHERS🗣️🗣️🗣️….sorry I got a little heated there💔 also also this is based on something saw here (I can’t remember who posted it, sorry) which was like what if Bi Han was pretending and didn’t actually betray his brothers so…yeah

Warnings: Mentioned death, blood and gore. Also angst. Bi Han actually has a heart guys‼️‼️‼️ so maybe ooc and also also no use of Y/n. The child has a name:3

Bi Han stared at the small girl in front of him

She and her family had unfortunately been caught in Lin Kuei battles, which led to the death of her parents by the hands of the enemy clan.

Bi Han stared at her, clutching her fathers cold hand with both of hers begging him to wake up saying that mommy wasn’t waking up either with a blood covered blanket and two stuffed animals crammed under her arms. One bright pink winged-cat plushy and a pastel pink and pastel purple unicorn with holographic tinsel in its mane

Bi Han sighed, and walked towards her, going in his knees to seem less scary. “Child, your parents will not wake..I…I’m sorry.” She turned to him, tears pouring out of her eyes and in a shakey voice asked “Why not?” Bi Han sucked in a breath.

He was a man most acquainted with seeing gore and death. Seeing bodies and blood with nothing new to him, but she couldn’t be older than 4. She’d lived in a secluded house with her parents and farm animals, and he doubted they would slaughter the animals in front of her.

“They…were caught in the cross fire. And unfortunately they have ascended to the heavens, and cannot bring you with them.” How he wished his brothers were here. He was raised to see emotions has weak as the future Grandmaster. “But they will watch over you and guide you as best they can from where they are.” He added quickly, remembering the line from the day Tomas was brought home

The girl nodded, and looked back at her parents corpses. “Oh. So I’m all alone?” Bi Han shook his head. “No, if you allow me to..I will take care of you. I know I will never replace your parents, but I will try to raise you fairly.” The blue ninja awkward opened his arms for her, and she collapsed in them sobbing.

Bi Han would normally be annoyed with the child, but now seeing a girl so young lose her whole life in one night by the enemy…he couldn’t even imagine being upset with her. Not when she got snot and tears on his uniform (not the shoulder he didn’t want to accidentally hurt her with the pointed shoulders), or when she asked him to gather what little remained of her old life.

When Tomas bright with him a small box of memories from his old family—he’d scoffed at it. Tomas would be a Lin Kuei now, he had a new family now. What did he need with memories from before?

But now? Now he understood. Bi Han helped her find what remained from her old room—A few pink floral pillow, 3 hand made quilts, a set of slightly burnt ice skating gear, and more stuffed animals—before finding a box large enough to fit what little was salvageable. When something caught his eye. On the floor was a fallen bookcase, and strewn across the floor were pictures of her parents.

Bi Han asked her if she’d like them, and she nodded trying to wiggle out of his grip. “No, there is glass on the floor. You don’t have shoes on, you could be hurt.” She nodded, sulking only slightly. Bi Han set the box down and helped her pick out 5 pictures of her parents, and 3 of all three of them. He even managed to find two fairly large photo albums that were fairly good condition to take too.

“Bi Han?!” Finally, his brothers were here. The girl whimpered slightly and leaned back against him. “It’s alright. It is only my brothers.” He assured her quietly, repacking her things before walking out. “Brother wh—“ Kuai Liang stopped short seeing the girl tear streaked face and covered in soot and blood. “Oh dear..” he muttered, walking forward.

Tomas followed him, reaching out for the box Bi Han held. “Hello there,” He smiled slightly at her “my name is Kuai Liang. What is yours?” She peered up at Bi Han who nodded slightly at her “Chao-Xing.” She muttered, cuddling further into his elder brother. “How old are you, Chao-Xing?” Tomas asked softly. “I turned 4 yesterday.”

Bi Han silenced their bubbling questions, looking down at the uncomfortable girl who was growing more and more tired. “Enough questions, let’s head back. She is tired.” He said firmly, taking the lead of the group who nodded.

They arrived at camp in two hours, and would be back at the compound the next afternoon if they left before first light. “Grandmaster!” Sektor called loudly, drawing attention. Chao-Xing stirred slightly, and Bi Han silenced her with a glare. “Quiet, Sektor. We will talk soon.” He growled, breezing past her heading for the tent that had been set up for him.

Bi Han tucked her into his bed, leaving the box of her things at the foot of the bed and left guards with stern orders to find him if she startled awake. Then he left to find Sektor and his brothers.

That night, he slept in the chair in his large tent, and when he woke Chao-Xing was curled up in his lap. Bi Han picked her up and wrapped her up in the small throw blanket that was on his bed to keep her warm on the journey.

He oversaw the clan packing up tents as the sun rose, and when Chao-Xing woke up he plated her some breakfast and ate with her on his right knee. The journey to the compound was quick, Chao-Xing fell back asleep some time before arriving and awoke to him ordering someone to clean her things and take them to her new room.

“Chao-Xing, would you like a tour of the compound? I can show you the gardens?” Kuai Liang offered, and she nodded somewhat hesitantly. “Not yet, she needs lunch first. And then she’s getting her measurements taken for new clothes, and then a trip to the medics.” Bi Han told his brother. Hua frowned. “No shots?” She asked quietly. “If they aren’t needed, then no.” She seemed satisfied with that, and let Bi Han take her to wherever her lunch was

After her trip to the doctors, where she thankfully got not shots, Kuai Liang and Tomas took her around the compound and ended the tour in the flower gardens. Chao-Xing enjoyed the gardens, mainly for the koi pond in it.

“Careful Chao-Xing! Don’t fall in!” Tomas laughed, gently pulling her away from the edge of the pond “I like fishes. Pretty.” She replied, looking at the fish in awe. “Yes they’re quite pretty, aren’t they? Maybe in the morning you can come out here and help feed them.” Kuai Liang said, enjoying the way her smile widened

At dinner time, Bi Han found them laying in front of the koi pond with Chao-Xing between his brothers. “Chao-Xing, dinner.” He said, voice surprisingly gentle. She stood up and ran over to him, talking about how pretty the fish were. “Yes the fish are very pretty.” He agreed, eyes drifting to his brothers in silent thanks.

Kuai Liang talked about her possibly feeding the fish, which made her perk up. So of course he agreed, and said he’d do it with her. But only if she ate her veggies at dinner. She poured up at him, but he managed to keep strong against her puppy dog eyes

Tomas struggled to not point out how easily he took to fatherhood.

Weeks passed, and soon Chao-Xing had been here a full month. It became routine for Bi Han to wake up to her curled up in his bed, and before breakfast they would feed the koi fish together. Then he’d help her chose an outfit and get dressed, go eat breakfast and train while Chao-Xing did her lessons

Chao-Xing proved to be a very smart girl, and finished her lessons an hour early every day (unless it was cursive then she finished her lessons on time) and always watched him train with his brothers

Then it was time for lunch, after which Bi Han would take her to the sides of the training grounds and meditate with her before teaching her basic stances for kombat. After that, she really had free rein to do anything within reason. But she chose to follow him around quietly.

Her wide eyes never strayed far from him, she even would sit outside his office during meetings. He would exit to see her staring up at him, pink winged cat plush in hand. She was always hot on his heels, and he didn’t mind too much. She was 4, and lost her family in a very traumatic situation. He couldn’t understand fully, but he could be sympathetic.

One night when he was tucking her in, and checking for monster per her request he asked her. “Why do you not sleep in your bed? I don’t mind waking up to you in my bed, I’m only wondering.” Chao-Xing sniffled and admitted “I keep getting afraid you’ll go where mommy and daddy went. And I’ll be alone.” Bi Han swallowed thickly. “Even if I did go there, which I’m not, you would still have the Lin Kuei to look after you, and Kuai Laing and Tomas to care for you.” She smiled a little at him. Bi Han smiled back.

He didn’t mind when he’d wake up in the middle of the night to her gentle knocks, when her night terrors got bad, when she followed him around, watched him train even though she seemed to hold little interest in becoming a ninja like him.

He didn’t mind, but others did apparently

His brothers made no comment about it, mainly because they had seen Tomas in the same way for many years. But Sektor had made a small comment about it. “I never understood why parents allowed their child to cling to them in such a way.” Chao-Xing tilted her head at the words, eyes dampening with sadness. “Well I’m sure that the parents don’t mind. They are their children, after all.” He growled, eyes narrowing at her.

Chao-Xing may not have understood the message, but Sektor did.

‘Never talk like that about my daughter again’

BONUS! DIALOGUE BETWEEN KOMBATANTS

Bi Han: You were so easy to trick

Shang Tsung: You are weak to think of a child over greatness

Shang Tsung: My offer still stands, with your power our victory will be assured!

Bi Han: I would never betray my family for your petty lies

Liu Kang: I did not take you for the kind for fatherhood

Bi Han: neither did I

Bi Han: was there a chance I would betray my family in this timeline?

Liu Kang: Your daughter changed the timeline in more ways than one

Kuai Liang: I never thought I would be an uncle

Bi Han: I never though I would be a father

Bi Han: I apologize for making you think I would betray you, brother

Kuai Liang: Just tell me your plan next time, and I’ll be happy.

Tomas: What does Chao-Xing want for her birthday?

Bi Han: She keeps asking for a puppy, which she won’t be getting

Bi Han: I apologize for making you think I would betray you, brother

Tomas: I forgive you brother, just warn us next time.

[moonlight-joy]

In the Hunter's Arms

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: As rain pattered against the cabin windows, you cleaned Sergei’s wounds, his fierce protectiveness evident in every glance. Despite his injuries, he promised to try and temper his recklessness for your sake. When the bandages were tied, he pulled you into his lap, his arms a protective shield. In the warmth of the cabin, surrounded by firelight, you found comfort in his unspoken vow to always keep you safe.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

The cabin was quiet except for the soft patter of rain against the windows and the occasional crackle of the fireplace. Sergei sat slumped in a wooden chair, his shirt discarded on the floor beside him, revealing his battered torso. Angry red gashes and bruises marred his skin, a testament to the brutality of his most recent hunt. You knelt before him, a bowl of warm water and a cloth at your side, your hands trembling slightly as you prepared to clean his wounds.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said softly, dipping the cloth into the water. You wrung it out and pressed it gently against a particularly deep cut on his side. Sergei flinched but remained silent, his jaw tightening as you worked.

“He was going to harm you,” Sergei finally replied, his voice low and rough. His piercing gaze locked onto yours, and you could see the fire burning in his eyes. “I would do it again without hesitation.”

You sighed, your movements careful and deliberate as you cleaned the blood away. “But at what cost, Sergei? You can’t keep putting yourself in harm’s way like this. It’s not sustainable.”

His hand shot out, catching your wrist mid-motion. The strength in his grip was undeniable, but his touch was controlled, deliberate. “You think I care about that?” he asked, his voice softening slightly. “Your safety is worth any price. Do not ask me to stand by while someone threatens what is mine.”

You frowned, your heart aching at the conviction in his words. Sergei was many things—ferocious, unyielding, and proud—but he cared deeply for those he held close, even if his way of showing it often came at his own expense.

“I’m not asking you to stand by,” you said, your voice firm but laced with emotion. “I’m asking you to think. To take care of yourself, too. Because I can’t lose you, Sergei. Not like this.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, the fierce hunter before you seemed almost vulnerable. He released your wrist, letting his hand fall to his side, and nodded. “I’ll try,” he said, though the words sounded foreign on his tongue. “For you.”

You gave him a small, relieved smile and returned to your task. The wounds weren’t life-threatening, but they were deep enough to require stitches. You set the cloth aside and reached for the needle and thread you’d prepared earlier. Sergei watched you intently, his expression unreadable as you threaded the needle and prepared to begin.

“This might sting,” you warned, though you knew pain meant little to him. He nodded, his jaw tightening in anticipation. As you worked, sewing his skin back together with steady hands, Sergei remained silent, his only reaction the occasional twitch of a muscle or a sharp intake of breath.

“You’ve gotten good at this,” he said after a while, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Too good.”

You glanced up at him, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “You’ve given me plenty of practice,” you replied, finishing the last stitch and tying it off. “Maybe you should stop getting into fights you don’t need to win.”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your chest warm. “Every fight is one I need to win. But I will admit…” His eyes softened, a rare vulnerability slipping through. “I’d prefer fewer reasons to make you worry.”

You reached for the salve and began applying it to his wounds, your touch gentle but firm. “Then stop scaring me,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sergei’s hand found yours, stilling your movements. He looked at you, his expression earnest. “I’ll try,” he said again, and this time, you believed him.

When you’d finished treating his injuries, you leaned back, surveying your work. His wounds were cleaned and dressed, the stitches neat and precise. You were exhausted, but relief washed over you knowing that he’d be okay.

“You should rest,” you said, rising to your feet and gathering the supplies. “You’ve been through enough for one day.”

Sergei caught your hand as you turned to leave, pulling you gently back toward him. “Stay,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “Just for a while.”

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. Setting the supplies aside, you allowed him to pull you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you protectively. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear was soothing, and you felt the tension drain from your body.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “For always being here. For taking care of me.”

“Always,” you replied, your voice soft and full of promise.

The rain continued to patter against the windows, the fire crackling in the hearth, and in Sergei’s arms, you felt safe. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you’d face them together. For now, though, you allowed yourself to rest, content in the knowledge that Sergei was here, and he was yours.

Please support my work with like and comment

[halfmoonshines]

marc spector/steven grant/jake lockley x reader

summary: you loved all of your boys equally. most days.

or; they're all amazing in their own ways, but definitely have their strong suits.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

You were going to strangle Marc Spector, you were sure of it. You were also sure that Steven would forgive you, and Jake probably wouldn't bat an eye.

How many times had you told this man that you had a laundry basket for a reason? Fist of Vengeance or not, his socks still stunk and you were getting tired of padding around the apartment twice a week collecting them all.

You slammed the washer door shut a little too hard just as you heard the front door open and click shut.

"I'm home, love! They had a great deal on your favorite cream cheese at the shops." Steven's honey accent pierces the quiet of your anger and you immediately simmer; his sunny disposition a cold water on your raging fire. You had nearly forgotten that he was the one who went to the store.

"That's great." You said as you rounded the corner, a smile on your face.

Steven paused in his unloading the groceries, a furrow creasing his brow. "Are you alright, sweets? You look tense." He crossed the small kitchen over to you, hands settling lightly on your shoulders. Leave it to Steven to see the slightest bit of tension in you.

You have a loving eye roll, moving closer to wrap your own arms around him. "I'm okay, Steven. Just slightly peeved at Marc for being so messy."

His hold dropped to your waist and he rested his chin on top of your head, a mirthful chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "That he is, love. Right disgusting bugger. Shall we do something about him?"

"I thought you wouldn't take kindly to me choking him with the next dirty sock I find."

"I'm sure I can look the other way."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

"You're being ungrateful, you need to actually listen to me-"

Conversations with your mother never went over well, but this time you were well tired of listening to it.

"I am not being ungrateful, Sharon. I'm being realistic. Don't call me again." You slammed the phone down with a force, shaking the glass of water you had perched on the dining table. You winced, knowing that smart phones weren't made to take that kind of beating but you were far past the point of caring.

She always knew how to rile you up; to upset you and make you feel guilty. You didn't even know why you bothered to pick up her calls anymore. Some sick sense of ownership.

The hands that turned you were warm and familiar, the chest that greeted you smelling of musk and pine.

"You want to talk about it?" Marc's voice made you wince. Steven was the one that left the house this morning, you hadn't been aware that they planned to switch. You hated talking about this stuff with Marc, knowing full well it never compared to the relationship he suffered with his own mother.

You gave a shake of your head and met his dark brown gaze. "It's fine, babe. Same old attitude."

Marc's smirk lacked the usual humor. He raised one of his hands to twirl a loose piece of your hair, tracing the movement with his eyes. "You know you don't have to bottle it up, right? How you feel is important. Don't ignore that just because I have my own issues."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "That's quite the self aware statement, Mr. Spector. I'm impressed."

Marc's smile morphed into that familiar one and he returned your earlier eye roll. "Don't deflect. I'm here if you want to talk."

You dropped your hand to his and started to pull him towards the kitchen. "We can talk while we cook. I'm starving."

"I can agree with that."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

You were being followed, you were sure of it. You tried not to hasten your steps too much, knowing full well that the person who had been following you for the last six blocks would give chase.

You wouldn't escape them.

You and the boys had obviously gone through this kind of situation before. Being the fist of Khonshu didn't come with a fan club, but it certainly did build a repertoire of enemies. If they lived, that is.

Your breath was puffing out of you in clouds as you power walked down a road parallel to your own, debating the merits on showing this man where you lived on the off chance that Marc was home.

You could hear the footsteps behind you speed up and you returned it in kind, kicking into a slow jog - all pretense of being unaware going out the window.

You glanced over your shoulder to see the man approaching quickly, and that was the first mistake you made.

The second one was hesitating when another men stepped out of the shadows of a store front. You knocked into him firmly, breath escaping out of your chest while his harsh grip dug into your shoulders.

Oh, you were fucked.

The man who had been following you caught up to you then, hand clasping over your mouth to muffle the strangled scream you had attempted.

Those training sessions in the living room with Jake felt like a distant memory with the blood pumping through your veins. You kicked wildly at the man in front of you, managing to graze that sensitive bit between his legs.

"I'm going to enjoy this so much more now." The accent was Irish, but you were quickly distracted by the large knife he brought up to your throat.

You stopped thrashing, all too aware of the sharp tip of steel biting into the sensitive skin on your neck. A stray tear rolled out of your eye, fate becoming more concrete.

"Hurry it up, Joey. We don't have time to dally."

"Shut yer pipe-" The man holding the knives voice gurgled briefly before he collapsed on the ground in front of you, the tips of crescent moon shaped knives poking out of the front of his chest.

You found him instantly, half masked by the shadows on the street.

"Bloody fuck." The man holding you simply tightened his hold, one hand fisting in your hair and yanking your head back. The squeal you gave wasn't by choice but you could see the start that the suited man watching you gave. "Stay over there, white devil, or she will die with me. Do you hear-"

You almost didn't see it, the knife being thrown but it was embedded in the goon's throat before your next breath. He released you all at once and you fell forward from the force, gloved hands catching you before you could hit the pavement.

You were heaving breaths, vaguely aware that you were going into something akin to shock but unable to pull yourself out.

"Breathe, mi corazon. You need to take slow breaths." Jake's own hands were shaking almost imperceptibly, you could tell that he was struggling to keep a lid on his fury.

You dragged in a deep breath through your nose, forcing yourself to sit on it before exhaling. You folded into his embrace, fresh tears springing into your eyes. "I'm sorry."

Jake's scoff was almost offensive. "What the fuck are you sorry about?"

You gestured to yourself haphazardly. "Completely losing my shit the first time that something happens to me."

The suit disappeared then, his bare hand gripping your chin lightly, bringing your gaze to his. There was fire churning there, and you realized you mistook some of his anger. There was fear there too. For you, though. Never himself.

"Don't you ever apologize to me when there's," His hand lowered a bit, ghosting over the line of red that the knife had left on your throat. "Blood dripping down you. Blood that's my fault." You understood then, the hard clench of his jaw. "Mierda, babe. This could've ended so differently."

Your hand wraps around the his wrist, bringing it into your lap, willing him to look at you instead of the wound he was fixated on. "But it wasn't. Because you were here. I'm okay, Jake."

Something flashed in his eyes, and a cloud passed over his face. He was bottling it up, you could tell, but there wasn't much you could do about that right now. "Let's get you home."

You let him help you off the pavement, keeping a grounding hand on his arm. Jake hesitated a moment, question poised on his tongue.

"What is it?"

"Are you sure you're okay? If you want to talk it out, I can step back. It would probably be good to have someone to talk to-"

Your kiss was chaste, but served its purpose of shutting him up. "If I wanted to talk about it, I could do that with you, Jake. You don't need to go anywhere."

"You know I'm not very good at that-"

"You're perfect." You insisted. No room for arguments.

He smiled wryly, arm wrapping around your waist. "How about I run you a bath when we get home and we order some takeout. What are you hungry for?"

"Surprise me."

[potchi-fics]

note: no smut LOL IM SORRY, I GOT HOME AND I FELL ASLEEP ON THE COUCH CUS IM SO TIREDDDDDDD YALL THIS IS ALL I GOT, THIS IS ALL I GOT. i cannot even fathom how i managed to write this (not proofread, ill do it when i wake up pls meow meow) this is the part two of playing with fire

      the twitch of your eye portrays the frustration seeping through you, the paper in your hand greatly souring your mood. you do not know how many hours you have been hunched over your desk, but the soreness in your shoulders and the glasses slipping on the bridge of your nose tell you.

something isn’t right with what you’re seeing; the numbers, dates, even the signatures are incorrect. you straighten your posture, your weight leaning on the elbow of the hand you’re using to hold the sheet of paper, your hair falling into the frame of your face, and your other rubbing your chin in deep thought.

“arden,” you called out to your assistant beside you, “who did this sloppy of a paperwork? i thought i made myself clear about doing work proficient–”

      you’re cut off when the door to your office is suddenly opened. you mask your surprise when you see her, ambessa medarda. 

she has a scowl on her face; her stare is full of anger, the tips of her fingers turning white with how hard she’s clenching her hands.

“never learned of knocking, general? and i believe our meeting is set for next week.” you look back down to the paper, doubt still gnawing in the pits of your stomach, “i also believe that i did not summon for you. what brings you here?”

      she all but growls, but, she doesn’t know if it's due to her anger or… you—the appearance of you: your posture, your tired-looking face, the skin of your legs from the split of your dress; a goddess is what you are, she thinks.

she savours the image of you before her. however, without even sparing her a glance, you spoke.

“general, speak.”

instantly responding, she baffles you with her words, “the supposed resources that are to be delivered to me have not reached me, your majesty. what is the meaning of this?”

“pardon?” you motion to arden to leave, bowing to you, she quietly leaves, “i am afraid i do not know what you are saying, general.”

ambessa walks a step closer, “this will put a strain on our contract, your majesty, i hope you are aware of that.”

“general, i am fully aware.” a hand takes your glasses off, and you lean back on your chair, eyes closing at the feeling of your back stretching. “on the other hand, i do not know what you mean when you say the shipment has not been completed.”

“i do hope you are not playing dumb, your majes–”

“i can assure you, general, i am not.”

      how she loves riling you up. how your fingers twitch in anger, your eyes scrutinizing her, knowing how powerful she is and yet, you hold your ground. she loves all of it.

ambessa reveled in it.

“apologies for the inconvenience, general,” ignoring her smug look, you stand up, and walk around your desk to show her the papers, you beckon her over,  “come. take a look at this.”

she does, nearing you until you start to feel her figure looming over you. “sloppy paperwork, your majesty.”

“do not even get me started. that is filthy.” you spread the sheets on your desk, ignoring how the proximity is sending warmth to your abdomen, “look, something is not right, correct?”

she leans over your shoulder, and a soft exhale emits from you, “correct, your majesty.”

“what’s worse is not only did this happen once, but thrice.” you can feel your anger bubbling over, “three times. someone has been stealing from me, selling it to others. i will take care of everything, general. see to it that the shipment will be delivered soon.”

ambessa made no move to back away, “hoping to dismiss me so quickly, your majesty? here i was thinking you’re finally softening up on me.” she pressed on, her breath hitting the back of your ear, “i must say, that does hurt.”

“need i remind you of your so-called thoughts about professional entanglements, general? i am starting to think you want me to break them.” your eyes close, the heat on your abdomen traveling down, pooling between your legs. “oh, you would love that, won’t you, general?”

you let out a shaky breath when you feel her hand on your stomach, your back pressing against her front, her nose slotting it behind your ear, smelling the fragrance you sprayed, “so innocent for a bold little lamb.”

“mhmm,” the hum vibrates your chest. you raise your right arm, your fingers grazing her cheek, then burying them into the back of her head, pulling her head down slightly, and you push back against her to whisper into her ear, “you aren’t exactly subtle, as well, general.” 

      she could destroy you with the strength she has, she could tear you into pieces by pieces. you focus on her body, on her bulging muscles, her long fingers, and her firm-toned stomach.

your thoughts run wild; you would take everything. ambessa places a kiss on the side of your neck. this is wrong. both of you knew that, but why aren’t you stopping? 

you give her more access, and her kisses leave a fire in their wake, from your jaw to your pulse, pecking it over and over again, you scratch her scalp tenderly in appreciation. she grabs your hand that’s on her head, manhandling you to turn you around.

you peer up at her through your eyelashes, eyes parted and your breaths shallow. your neck and cheeks are flushed. ambessa was no better: her irises darkened, she was breathing heavily, and she looked like she was holding herself back from doing something. 

her palm gently meets your cheek, her thumb running along your bottom lip, “i am far from innocent, ambessa.”

      and she is spiraling. she nudges herself between your legs, forcing you to sit on your desk. her hand is now grasping the whole side of your neck, with her thumb now tracing along your cheekbone. she needs to hear you say her name again. she yearns for you to utter out her name once more.

“say it again.”

“ambessa.”

      she leans in. she’s a mere millimeters away when a knock stopped her. you gently push her away, hurriedly fixing your appearance. she could only grit her teeth, her gaze was fixed on the door, fury evident in her eyes.

if looks could kill, the person on the other side would be dead.

you clear your throat, you soothe out the creases on your dress, “come in.” 

“your majesty, general,” arden greets, “i dug around, asked around, too, and i found out who did those papers, your majesty.” you nod for her to keep going, “it’s holloway.”

your gaze snaps to her, a deep frown mars your expression, “lieutenant holloway? but why? where is he?”

“at the docks, your majesty.”

…

the soles of your boots slam down against the pavement, your mood beginning to turn bitter once you spot the man you’re looking for, “holloway.” he turns around and quickly meets a fist to his face. “what have you done?”

“yo-your majesty,” he crumples to the ground, holding his bleeding nose, he spots arden and the warlord behind you, “what–what’s happening?”

“you have been stealing from me,” the blade of your sword is pressed dangerously against his throat, “and the general. have you got no shame and brain? you have put my–OUR nation in danger. let me ask you again, what have you done?”

“our nation? oh please, i’ve been making much more money than you.”

“is this what it’s about? money?” your sword hovers, “you would risk an entire nation for money? you would betray me, your queen, your empress, for money? you are easily bought.”

he shouts, “and you are a whore. a whore for that slut of a gener–”

with a swift slash, you cut off the hand that’s holding his nose. blood spurts and bursts out of the now stump, “mind your mouth, holloway. if it is i you wish to speak ill of, do it. however, if you dare to insult the general, then that is simply a foolish thing for you to do.”

      ignoring the blood gathering at your feet, or some of it getting on your dress, you turn to your army of men who are watching.

your gaze cold and dead, you point at holloway using your bloody sword, “make the same mistake and i will ensure that you will hold a much worse fate.” you walk to him, grabbing him by his hair, dragging him to kneel in front of the general, relishing in his screams and whimpers, “apologize.”

“in your dreams, bitch. i’m not apologizing to this slu–” 

“holloway, you are beginning to test my patience.” grabbing his head once more, you force him to look up, “apologize.”

      she has never seen this side of you. this ruthless and unforgiving side of you sends tremors to her hands, weakens her knees, and dries her mouth and lips. 

the fire never left ambessa and it is spreading throughout her body, it’s burning and uncomfortable.

“fine. have it your way, holloway. hold him down.” you call out to your men, and they seize him by his arms, legs, shoulders, every part of him, “you brought this upon yourself. hold out his tongue.” knowing what you’re about to do, he thrashes in their holds but it’s no use. he begins to plea, escape, anything. “i have given you your chances, holloway. accept the consequences.”

      only his screams of terror and agonizing pain can be heard, his screeches making the birds flock away, his blood staining the ground, creating a puddle.

he looks at his hand and tongue in horror that is dying on the floor, and then up at you, only to be met with hollow ones—lifeless eyes of yours that are like staring into an abyss of darkness. you cover his mouth, your hand squeezing his jaw, adding more pain.

“a hand for stealing, a tongue for disparaging remarks,” you shove him away, not caring that his blood is on your hand, “run.”

      you turn around just as he takes off, clutching his hand to his chest, looking around wildly as the men he used to order around are looking at him with disgust in their eyes.

you bow your head to the general, “i must apologize for all of this mess, general. i… stay for a little while i assort your shipment. i will have my men board your resources to your ship.” you turn to look at the retreating figure in the distance. “kill him.”

     a bang ends your day at the docks.

…

“my, my, what a wonderful sight that was, your majesty.” ambessa sipped her tea, her legs spreading as she sat, “didn’t take you for a killer.”

crossing your legs, your silk dress, now having changed, riding up, “i have done worse, general. much worse things that would make yours look like a child’s play.”

      she raises a brow at you. though her stare quickly travels down to your legs, openly looking at you, from your legs to your thighs, all the way up to your chest.

absolutely no shame, you think to yourself, smirking slightly. this woman is a piece of art, her skin, her stature, her scars. and then you remember how she felt like when pressed against you. her solid frame, how her presence can engulf your being, it suffocates you.

yet you want more.

“your majesty, i doubt that. i have killed everything that stands in my way.”

you hum, your eyes raking over her form, “that, i don’t doubt.”

      you wonder how it would feel to be underneath her, holding you down from moving, to force you to take everything she will give you. unconsciously, you squeeze your thighs together.

ambessa notices. 

“it seems like we were interrupted earlier, no?” her voice drops an octave. 

      you bite your lip. your action spurring her on. she can’t help it anymore. all these playful banters, the tension, it’s too much for ambessa. you are too much for her. 

maybe it’s time you let yourself indulge.

“i believe so, yes…” you take it yourself to move and sit on her lap. in the blink of an eye, her hands are on your thighs, rubbing smooth circles and slipping under your dress, “would you like to continue, ambessa?”

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

New perfume? -Tom Riddle x Reader-oneshot

-summary; Tom’s girl wears perfume everyday, scents Tom enjoys enough to usually enjoy burying his face in her neck every night to calm down. Today somethings different, her perfume is…dear merlin Tom cant hold himself back.

Warning; smut fic, oral sex(Fem receiving), unprotected PinV sex(wrap it before you tap it!), obsessive feral Tom, Amortentia use(not on purpose.) sliiightly pathetic Tom, slightly sub! Tom.

=

Tom had a sensitive nose, which helped a lot in potions class and got him many Outstandings from Slughorn over the ears. This sensitive nose meant his girlfriend (y/n) had to be careful with what perfumes she got, she herself had a sensitive nose so she never got anything intense, her favorite being a vanilla honey-based scent, it was comforting yet light, blending in with the scent of her shampoo and bodywash that Tom enjoyed.

His favorite thing to do at the end of a long patrol was to pull her into his lap in front of the common room fire and inhale her gentle scent, enjoying the sweet soft smell of honey and vanilla, never too strong, never too faint-just right.

Just like her.

Currently, Tom hadn’t seen his girl all day, they’d been busy with classes which were all separate considering their different career paths, (y/n) planning on being a healer and Tom not having any particular thing set(as far as anyone was aware other than his knights), so he hadn’t seen her since breakfast-and breakfast was when Tom usually kept his head low, trying to cover up the barrage of smells with a cup of sugar and milk heavy coffee.

So, until right now-as he passed by (y/n) for a split moment as they both went to their next class, he hadn’t gotten a whiff of her usual perfume that made him feel at ease.

Because this time-her perfume assaulted his senses, not to make him scrunch his nose and tell her to take a shower or something-but instead he stumbled, heat zipping down his spine as her scent overwhelmed him so suddenly.

Vanilla and honey, caramel and roses, and a heady mix of his cologne and her usual perfume. He twisted on his heel, going right after her-his friend called after him-they had to get to class but for once, Tom really didn’t give a shit.

He caught up to his girl and grabbed her arm, she squeaked and looked up at him-her perfume invading his senses, and he swore he felt light on his feet-and pants too tight. “I need to talk to you.” Tom said, demanding, not asking.

“Shit you scared me Tom-“ (y/n) breathed out, stumbling after him as he dragged her down the hall, out of the crowd of students and into an unused room that hadn’t been used since their first year.

(y/n) gasped as she was shoved against the door, shivering as Tom’s face pressed into her neck, hands tight against her sides. “You changed your perfume.” Tom nearly growled into her neck, teeth grazing her throat and she groaned, her head tipping back against the wall.

“What-no I d-didn’t?” (y/n) said, she hadn’t, she put on the usual vanilla honey perfume she put on every day? Tom groaned, inhaling her scent-he felt feral, like a male dog smelling a bitch in heat.

“You did.” He insisted, licking his bottom lip-he felt drunk, or like someone had slipped an aphrodisiac into his system somehow.

“I didn’t-I used the same perfume I use every day.” (y/n), pulling out the perfume bottle from her bag to show it to him. He recognized the bottle, he’d helped her pick it out a few months back. He grabbed it, pulling off the cap and inhaling from the sprayer. It smelled like she did-intense and overwhelming, heat zinging down his spine again.

Beneath it all, he recognized it, Amortentia. “Someone spiked your perfume with Amortentia.” He muttered, his eyes half-lidded as he capped the bottle and put it in his pocket, grabbing (y/n)’s wrist as she tried to take it back.

“Who in the heck would do that?” (y/n) asked, her brow furrowed, gasping as Tom’s hips bucked against her and backed her against the wall, his lips on her neck, licking a wide stripe up to her jaw. “Tom!”

“You smell so fucking good, I can’t help myself,” Tom groaned, feeling completely out of control for the first time in his life, he’d felt this way before, always with (y/n), but never this intense. “Fuck-(y/n).” he groaned again, hands going down her sides and up her skirt, pulling at her tights.

“Tom-we have class,” (y/n) protested weakly, her cheeks flushing as he continued to tug at her tights. He nipped at her earlobe, making her shudder as his tongue traced the shell of her ear.

“Fuck class.” He groaned, a sentence never heard from him before and (y/n) swallowed, biting her inner lip as she looked at him, his face was flushed, pupils almost overtaking his whole eye. Whoever had tampered with her perfume had made it like a Tom magnet, making him crazy for her.

She didn’t get to see him like this often, and he seemed sound of mind otherwise.

They only had one more class today, and it probably already started.

Fuck it.

She turned her head, pressing her lips against his hard, teeth clashing as hands yanked at clothes and Tom’s tie was pulled off-his eyes snapping open as he felt his tie get yanked around his wrists and pulled behind his back, (y/n) tying it and yanking it tight.

“Fuck. (y/n).” Tom groaned, his brows pinched as he pulled at the binding, panting as (y/n) smirked to herself. “Where’d you learn this?”

“From you.” (y/n) said, taking her wand from her bag and locking the door before dropping it back in her bag and throwing her bag to the floor, yanking Tom’s vest and shirt up, unbuckling his belt.

Tom groaned, his forehead pressed against the top of her head as he leaned over her, panting heavily as her fingers brushed against his skin, trailing the patch of hair that disappeared into his boxers. “(y/n).” he snapped, cheeks flushed with impatience and desire, huffing as he felt her hands on his shoulders and he was forced to his knees.

He looked up at her, his eyes fluttering as he smelled her intensely now, closer to her pretty cunt that he loved so much. “(y/n).” he groaned again, mouth watering as she pushed down her tights and underwear, fingers curling into his hair to bring him between her thighs, face disappearing under her skirt.

She smelled so fucking good; he felt drunk just off her scent. His mouth opened as she pushed him against her cunt and he began to lick and suck at her ravenously, like a man starved-her moans and sighs music to his ears as his hips bucked in response.

He’d never felt so starved for this, so-needy-for this. He’d never let her tie his wrists up or force him to his knees-but her damn perfume, whatever tampered with it, was making him weak for her, pussy drunk as he licked into her cunt, swallowing down her sweet taste.

His nose brushed against her clit and (y/n) jolted, forcing his face closer and he groaned, moving his face up to suck her clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive thing, fists clenching and unclenching behind his back.

“You’re gonna kill me you she-devil.” Tom groaned as he pulled back for breath, brows pinched as he licked his lips-sweet with the taste of her. (y/n) laughed gently, nails scratching his scalp that sent shivers down his spine.

“What’ta way to go huh?” (y/n) teased, her eyes fluttering as he licked a wide stripe up her cunt from her hole to her clit, sucking on her clit-grazing his teeth on it to make her jump.

“Best way to go.” He murmured-his eyes closing as he took her cunt into his mouth again, licking and sucking like he couldn’t get enough. This was the way to die, between her thighs and tasting her, and nothing else.

(y/n) moaned, mouth opened as she listened to the obscene noise of his tongue and mouth against her, the smooth texture of his tongue making her go mad. “Tom-Tom,” she moaned out, feeling him smirk against her and she hooked a leg over his shoulder, bringing him even closer somehow. “oooh fuck-Tom.”

She yanked at his hair and he let out a long guttural moan, sending shivers up her spine as it made everything vibrate and she moaned with him, yanking his hair again as he ate her out like it was the last thing he’d do. “Oh fuck-oh shit-oh shit oh shiiit.” (y/n) groaned, her body arching forward, that peaking feeling in her cunt growing stronger, tightening in her gut.

“Shit shit shit-I’m gonna-Tom fuck!” (y/n) moaned, grinding her hips to push against his face, her hands in his hair to pull him against her and he went slack jawed, letting her use his tongue to finish on as the rest of him went tight, his eyes fluttering as he felt her cum on his face.

She kept him against her as she rode out her high, moaning softly as her hips bucked against him, pulling his head away as he kept licking at her clit-sending her into overdrive. Her mouth dropped open slightly, looking at him; his face was flushed, lips open and slick with her cum, tongue slightly out and hair a mess-her fingers still tangled.

“you look good on your knees,” she muttered and Tom swallowed, panting hard, twisting his hips to try and relieve tension.

“(y/n),” he said, voice raspy and almost needy, his eyes locked onto her cunt still, watching it drip with arousal. She let out a soft sigh and slid down on the wall in front of him, pushing him back-his thighs burning as she pushed him to lay on his back with his legs and arms beneath him. He said her name again, groaning as she shoved his shirt up, putting the hem into his mouth.

“Bite.” She commanded softly and he took it between his teeth, already breathing hard as she undid his trousers and pushed them down with his boxers, his eyes fluttering as her hand wrapped around his aching cock, her other hand brushing against his pubes and then going up his chest to his throat, pushing lightly.

“Be good.” She said and Tom groaned, his back arching as she swung her leg over him and sank his cock into her, (y/n) moaning as she felt him fill her up perfectly. She began to rock back and forth as Tom writhed his head around, her hand still on his throat-shirt still in his mouth as she began to ride him-her ass snapping down on his thighs as he writhed and bucked against her.

(y/n) rocked her hips, bouncing lightly every once in a while to make him groan, drool soaking his shirt as he thrust up against her, skin against skin and the heady smell of sex filling their senses as she pressed against his throat a bit more, leaning down to press soft kisses on his brow and cheeks.

He strained against his tie, wanting to touch her but also not wanting to go against her-that damned perfume had ruined him, made him weak to her whims. He groaned out her name, muffled by the shirt in his mouth as his face flushed hotter, his hips snapping faster as he felt his orgasm approach, his cock deep in her tight wet warmth.

He opened his eyes to look at her-a near begging look in his eyes, pleasure from her cunt and her hand on his throat nearly overwhelming him. “Cum for me,” (y/n) moaned, clenching around him and his eyes rolled back, body stilling as his hips snapped once, twice, and then stopped, (y/n) groaning as she felt him twitch inside her, cumming.

She released his throat, tugging the shirt from his mouth and Tom took greedy gasps of breath, his eyes unfocused as he let his head turn to the side, his cheek against the cold stone. (y/n) got off him, his cock slipping out of her and she shivered, helping him sit up and rubbing his legs as he felt pins and needles from below the knee.

“I should thank whoever tampered with my perfume,” (y/n) teased as she untied his wrists and grabbed her wand from her bag, cleaning them both up and retying his tie.

“I’ll find the bastard and buy them a butterbeer.” Tom muttered and (y/n) grinned, happy to know he hadn’t minded her being in control for once. He kissed her cheek and got up on wobbly legs, pulling her up by the hand. “Once.” Tom said sternly, looking down at her with his flushed face and messy hair, his eyes still distant.

(y/n) grinned. “Sure.”

It was not the last time.

-end-

[unofficial-writing]

Sugar cookies

✵ Pairing: Fred Weasley/f!reader

✵ Word count: 2k

✵ Summary: You were notoriously horrible at any form of baking or cooking, but hopefully having another shot at it could improve the well-earned reputation

✵ Warnings: Established relationship, possible inaccurate cookie baking (I'm no chef), really nothing but fluff

Baking was a form of art, and you had never been that kind of artist. Every time the thought even crossed your mind, something had already gone wrong. Something was on fire, severely burnt, the wrong consistency, or just tasted awful. No matter how many times you tried, there was never any sort of improvement. No food or dessert had ever survived in your hands. So it wasn't often anymore you could be found in the kitchen, having mostly accepted that this was simply not your strong suit. However, every so often, you found a sudden urge to try and prove you could learn, even if you already knew the likeliest outcome. Today was one of those days, that urge tempting you into giving it another try.

It was a warm and quiet morning in the burrow, Molly and Arthur being away and most of the others busying themselves in different ways. You took the opportunity to try yet again at baking something. It was safer for everyone if there were fewer present to witness it, or possibly taste it. If you could get that far this time.

You approached the situation optimistically. The plan was to choose something simple to make and an even simpler recipe to follow. Just cookies couldn't hurt, right? It seemed easy enough, as long as you were careful.

Leaning against the counter, you studied the little book. There were very few ingredients, and that only meant fewer places where mistakes could be made. You were definitely capable of this. So with a newfound confidence, you got to work gathering an array of bowls, pans, ingredients, everything you thought you may need and more. As you scattered them across the counter at random, You were caught by the only other Weasley in the household.

Fred walked in on what was turning out to be a manic episode. You could tell he knew this based on the sudden panic in his face. "What are you doing?" He questioned, fearing the day he'd find you here again. Flashbacks of previous incidents were likely spinning through his head.

"A good morning would suffice." You replied without looking up from what you were doing. Another quick check of your book and you were ready to go, carrying hope for a more positive ending this time. Fred strode over lazily, sleep clearly still clinging to his mind. He slid his arms around you to gaze over your shoulder.

The embrace briefly distracted you from your task. And to further this, he pressed a long kiss to the top of your head. "I'm sorry, love. Good morning." His voice was muffled against your hair, but the way it sounded was almost tempting enough to drop everything in your hands and give him your full attention. Unfortunately, you were far too determined for that.

"That's much better," You remarked, earning a chuckle. Against your better judgment, you wiggled out of Fred’s arms to continue on with your cookies. After a few words of complaint, He leaned an arm on the counter beside you, finding the only open spot that hadn't yet been touched by your wave of disaster. You prepared your first ingredients, movements followed by his curious gaze.

"Now, don't tell me," He started sarcastically, continuing only once you glanced up at him. This look only lasted a moment, as you were in the middle of measuring flour. "You're making something."

"Clearly," Was your simple response. You were so focused on getting everything right.

"Something simple?" Fred gestured down to the not-so-simple mess on the counter. "I'd guess it's something even you couldn't ruin? Dare I say cake? Cookies, maybe?" He watched you pour the flour into a bowl, which came back up to coat the front of you in a white puff of smoke. A snort of laughter escaped his mouth, resulting in an immediate glare from you. It was very early in the game for you to be wearing your cookies.

"That's enough from you." You pointed a finger of your now powdered hand at him. "Unless you'd like to be covered in flour as well."

His expression changed as he considered your words. "Well, I could think of worse things to—” You put an end to his statement by launching a handful of flour at him, coating the both of you in a thin layer of white. He first tried to wipe his face with the back of his hand, only to find it would smudge. You roared with laughter at this discovery.

After your fit had calmed, you picked up a spoon in an attempt to return to your work. But you had started something Fred would be more than happy to finish. "Oh, no you don't." He grabbed your arms and pulled you to him, tickling and completely disarming you. Laughter jumped back into your throat and your utensils clattered to the ground.

"Fred! No!" You struggled to say, squirming to find an escape. By the time he had stopped, you could barely breathe and practically choked on the giggles that tried to escape your lips.

Fred picked up the spoon off the ground, narrowly dodging a slap to the arm. If your cookies turned out poorly now, you could place some of the blame on him. He went to rinse it off, which gave you enough time to add most of the remaining ingredients to your bowl.

You checked back with the book to ensure it was still going well. Other than the rapidly growing mess in the kitchen and all over you, it seemed fine so far. As long as there were no other setbacks, you may actually succeed this time.

As if you spoke it into existence, Fred turned around at the sink, just as you were placing the cookies in the oven. "Slight problem," His hands were held away from himself, face twisting into concern.

Your gaze was pulled to him to see he had tried and failed to rinse the flour off his hands and arms. Instead of washing away, it clumped and stuck to his skin. The realization hit you at the same time and you stared at each other, both covered in more flour than what was in the cookies.

Water did nothing against the powder. It was mixed with whatever other ingredients escaped the bowl, turning it into a glue and making the situation far worse. You took ahold of one of Fred's arms, but it immediately made your hands sticky as well. No matter how much you scrubbed, it only further spread across the skin

"It's not coming off," Fred announced simply, as if you weren't actively trying to fix the problem.

You sighed. "I can see that, love." You pointed to a bar of soap at the edge of the sink, beckoning Fred to hand it over. He obliged and reached for it. The soap helped significantly, freeing some of the sticky paste.

It took no small amount of effort, but you eventually had clean arms and hands. Fred took the bar from you, wetting the soap in his hands and lifting it to work it into the flour on your face. You gazed up at him while he did this, letting out a little giggle as he struggled to keep his eyes from finding yours.

Fred had very little self-control when it came to you. It didn't take any convincing for him to give in and meet your stare. It was intoxicating. Whatever you had been doing previously was easily forgotten the moment the look was exchanged. He practically melted, thumb still brushing across your cheek while his mind drifted away from cleaning your messy faces.

You did try to resist– or so you told yourself– But a flicker of your eyes toward his lips and it was over. You met in a sweet kiss, the chalky taste of flour finding your tongue. It was warm and gentle and filled with the same longing you felt every time you kissed him; even back to the very first time. The act was so simple, and yet was more than enough for him to take over your entire mind and body. You were completely at the mercy of your lover.

His hands cupped your face, the mixture of soap and flour making a mess of your skin. He held you there with no intention of moving and in turn, rapidly draining any of yours. This only lasted until a distinct burning smell reached your nose.

Fred noticed before you, lips parting from yours as his eyes fell on the sight. "Y/n," He muttered and let his hands drift down to your shoulders.

"Hm?" Was your oblivious response, further proof you belonged nowhere near an oven. Realization hit you at the same time as the harsh scent.

"Is that supposed to be on fire?" You jerked your body around to follow his gaze, only to find that your cookies had gone up in flames. How? You had only taken your eyes off them for a few minutes at most. Your hands went to your pockets, but there was empty fabric where your wand should have been. So Fred's was the next best option.

He wasn't one to handle emergency situations well. While you calmly tried to locate a solution, Fred seemed to lose any instinct for survival. "Fred," You snapped a finger to get his attention. "Your wand, love."

"Right," He searched around the counter for it. A sigh escaped your lips and you put a hand on his arm to stop him, taking his wand from his pocket. With a swift flick, water sprayed from the tip of it and extinguished the flames, which had roared on during the moment of panic.

As the fire subsided, you lost any hope in salvaging your dessert. They came out of the oven pitch black, hard as a rock, and now waterlogged; definitely not edible. You set them on the counter so you both could get a good look.

After a moment or two of dead silence, Fred made a poor attempt to lighten your disappointment. "Well, this isn't the worst thing I've seen you take out of an oven." You shot him the makings of a glare, which confirmed his attempt had ended in failure.

The expression turned into a frown. "Maybe I'm just destined for burnt cookies." As the words came out, so did a giggle. You really were cursed. Every single time, without fail, something goes wrong. You were convinced you were the only one with such terrible luck when it came to baking.

"Or maybe you just need more practice." Fred suggested, giving you his smile. Somehow he had become more enthusiastic about this than you.

You leaned onto the counter, sinking down in defeat. "I think I’ve had a little too much practice." Adding another kitchen disaster to your resume didn't make you any more eager to jump back into it.

"One more couldn't hurt, darling." He pulled out another set of ingredients, this time indenting to help you rather than distract. With Fred, your chances for success were greatly increased but still slim. Even with the odds stacked against you, how could you refuse? Especially at the sight of him standing there, so ready to try again with you. So with an exaggerated sigh, you got back to work.

These cookies had made it much farther than the previous batch. Even just surviving long enough to make it out of the oven was a victory. You could admit there was an obvious improvement. But even though they looked the part— mostly— One taste and you found they were not the most appealing to consume. It was a sign of progress, but still not something anyone else would find edible.

Finally, you were able to start coming to terms with your skill; or lack thereof. Baking was such a delicate art, and you just had to accept that not everyone was meant to be that type of artist.

Find more like this here!

[karmaajr]

HEYO Y'ALL!!!! I got bored and decided my last intro post was WAY too unorganised (even by my standards frfr 😔😔🙏) so i made a new one!!! hopefully this ones a bit better or else ima light somebody on fire 🥰🥰

anyways dms n asks r ALWAYS open and if ur new to my person-being-blog-whatevs and wanna get to know me or smth then FEEL FREE TO SLIDE IN GIRLYPOPS!!! I'M ALWAYS BORED SOO 😭😭🙏 (might take like, a billion years to reply tho mbmb >:3)

and thus again, without any further ado, MY INTRO POST 😍

🎶 try to strike a chord but it's probably A MINOR 🎶 -> ✨️im under 18✨️ idm nsfw convos tho bcuz theyre funny :D

sooo tbh you can call me whatever you want? like ppl call me different things (eg senka calls me kam, bea calls me keke/kekere bcuz shes 🎶a meanie, a big meanie🎶 my irl bestie westie pookie poo calls me jeena CUZ HES A LIL BITCH) but MHM!!! CALL ME WHATEVER U WANNA <33 (as long as it dont feel masc bcuz my dumbass got issues w feeling masc for some RANDOM STUPID REASON 💀) (like im literally a cis girl why do i got problems w this....... but YAAAA 😭) (she/her btw!!! if that wasnt obvious!! ^^)

✨️i am cringe but i am free✨️

I SOMETIMES USE GENDERED TERMS LIKE GIRLY/BRO/DUDE/ETC BUT I DON'T MEAN IT GENDERED SO IF YOU FEEL IFFY THEN DONT HESITATE TO HMU N TELL ME TO FIX UP MY SHIT

btw im a tad bit of train wreck but if u enjoy the chaos then we'll get along js fine i think pooks 😋😋

anyways it came to my shitty little attention span one day when i was just being a silly lil girly that some of yall think im white when i say im british....... CHAT NOOO IM BORN N RAISED IN THIS TEA RIDDEN COUNTRY BUT ETHNICITY WISE IM BANGLADESHI!??!?! YALL IM LITERALLY A BROWNIE OMFDS 🤧

also a lot of this blog is a bunch of reblogs of shit im interested in BUT I DO HAVE OG STUFFFFFF, THEY'RE JUST IN THEIR OWN TAGS U GET ME??? anyways some of the tags!!!

karmaajr rambles -> for everything i post besides answers to asks :3

karmaajr answers ig :D -> answers to asks ^^

important thing for me to tag bcuz yes -> random thing i really wanna save (also im bad at tagging so sometimes thing has an "s" or tag has an "s" lmfao, ITS A RLLY USELESS TAG TO TRY SCROLL THRU ICL.... RLLY DRY AS WELL)

karmas mum mentions :3 -> i like to think this one explains itself yall 😘

daddy's unhinged -> anything about my sweet ol' pops (who totes cares abt me yall) 🥰

my sister and I -> anything my sister is involved in that i actually remember to tag LMFAO

NOT MY ASS MENTIONING PANIK -> me wanting to save things that r to do w my gf 🫶

BTW HIS @ IS @panikbutt0n AND SHE'S MY MAPLE SYRUP CHUGGING 4LIFER AND LITERALLY THE BEST THING SINCE RIPPED BREAD AND I LOVE HER SO SO SO MUCH SO ACC HIT HER UP PLZ 🙏🙏🙏🙏

btw yall, ur homegirl aint no gatekeeper so the group matching pfp thingy is from @tuturthecarvroom 's blog (n they very skibidi sbg art btw so i do reccomend frfr) and mY HEADER IS OFF GOOGLE SEARCH 😍😍

ALSO I AM CURRENTLY MATCHING WITH THE SILLIEST GROUP EVER FRFR, GONNA TRY @ THEM ALL BUT IT'S HARDDD (my memory is the shittiest thing since That One Time my friend shit his trousers on call w me 💪💪💪)

@lee1504 -> BRAINROTTED KING 🙏🙏

@d011zk1ll -> both kind af and somewhat unhinged??? like both "do a good deed to make somebody else's life easier ☺️" AND "im gonna eat a bicycle :p"

@sketchingwithlyn -> JUST THE CHILLEST GUY EVERRRR!!!!

@rot-decay-erosion -> gramps 🧓🏻 (also known as the desendant of our king garfield 😙✨️)

@afrogwhocantdraw -> RESIDENT BENLOR POOKIE

@low-senka -> the brokest senior citezen youve ever met 💔💔💔💔 (yall need to donate to my guy 🥺🥺🥺)

(also the thing below had me stuck looking at it for literally AGES so hehehehehhehehe GET TRAPPED IDIOT!!!!!! >:3!!!!!)

▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

(dots r fun)

anyways i have no clue what else to write!!! which is weird bcuz im a yapper frfr :D

ANYWAYS LOVE Y'ALL ✨️✨️✨️

WAIT

⁠⁠⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

.......... ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

.................... ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

.............................. ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

........................................ ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

..................................................ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

............................................................ ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

......................................................................⁠ ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

⁠

THEY 👥 DONT🙅🏼‍♀️ LOVE 😘 YOU 🫵🏼 LIKE I 👀 LOVE 🥰 YOU 🫵🏼🫵🏼🫵🏼