#but were so close to being done and then i will take a break and then we will have fun again

[vampirq]

⋆ ࣪ ִֶָ . ❀ HOW TLOU + ARCANE WOMEN BRAT TAME YOU.

contain characters: abby anderson. ellie williams. dina woodward. sevika. vi. caitlynn kiramann. mel medarda

3.4k words total, not proofread.

tags: dom! abby. hair pulling. praise. strap-on sex. overstimulation. major teasing. strap referred to as ‘dick.’ mean! ellie. dom! sevika. fingering. edging. grinding. finger sucking. usage of ‘daddy.’ spanking. cunt slapping. oral. thigh riding.

note: yeah .. this is just filth. i’m sorry for any typos or over usage of words, writing this sucked the life out of me.

ABBY ANDERSON

you’ve been pestering abby all night in the kitchen. holding things away from her so she can’t grab them, mocking her when she asks you to do something, even talking back to her. 

abby didn’t feed into too much though. she’d just tell you to ‘cut it out�� or shoot you a warning look and continue cooking. but you weren’t satisfied. you wanted to see her break, see her far you could push her til she had enough. 

so you did just that. 

“what? you gonna glare at me all night, or are you actually gonna do something about it?” you mutter, your voice bitter but that feeling deep down is far from it.

“you’re funny, real funny, babe.” abby stifles a laugh, her tongue poking at her cheek. disappointed with her response, you roll your eyes in frustration, keeping your eyes focused on the way her biceps flex each time she slices an onion. 

you move behind her, your nose adjacent with her neck. your lips press against it then, your tongue licks a messy stripe down to her collarbone. the salt and alcohol from her perfume collecting in your mouth. “mm, you taste good. but you probably already knew that, huh?” 

she lets out a low groan, dropping the knife; a loud clang echoing throughout the room. her hands grip onto the counter while her head hangs between the shoulders, shifting on her feet. 

you open your mouth to say another snarky remark, but they fall on silent lips, choosing to watch her instead.

in a minute, her body turns to yours, her hands rested on your hips and backing you towards a wall. she has a look in her eye, and you can’t differentiate it from frustration or desire. maybe both. maybe neither. maybe she’s just done.

her body clashes with yours. her forearm resting on the wall, the other toying with your waistband.  “you wanna tell me what’s got you acting like this?” her voice is deep, stern, and you know you’ve got her right where you want her. “was me fucking you senseless last night not enough?”

“guess not.” you snap back, earning a growl from abby. 

she lets out another dry laugh and shakes her head. bringing her gaze back up to you, her lips inches apart from yours. “you’ve got five minutes to get on the bed. ass up. naked, and i better not see you touching yourself, understand?” her tone is harsh, it makes you gulp, an inch of fear washing over you.

—

“ngghh, fuck, abby! i can’t, can’t take it—“ your words are cut off with a loud moan. nails digging into the cotton sheets beneath you. 

abby’s pace increases at your pleas. her hips driving into you with more force.  people were not lying when they said her back shots sound like gunshots. “come on, baby. take this dick, fuck yeah.” her head tilts back, a low whine leaving her lips. 

strings of her name tumble out of your mouth like a sacred song. feeling your mind grow foggy as her tip kisses your cervix. your chest lays flat against the bed, the support from your arms being taken away from abby. her hand grabbing both of your arms and holding them behind your back. 

“oh? where’s that attitude now, princess?” the grip she has on you tightens, using it as leverage to pound into you deeper. “‘cause all i hear are a buncha pretty moans.” 

you feel your legs shake, eyes rolling to the back of your head. any attempt at words would just come out inaudible, resulting in a plethora of lewd noises. you couldn’t tell abby you were close, but she knew, she alwaysknew. 

“can feel you squeezing my cock. make a mess all over me, pretty girl.” her permission is the only thing you needed to gush all over the sheets. your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, sudden and intense. 

she fucks you through it, talking to you and praising you. the grip she had on your arms were gone, but now it was on your hips. her tempo changed from fast, sharp to slow and deep. it allowed you to feel every inch of her easing in and out of you.

the overstimulation came quickly, causing you to thrash and whine. “a-abby, it’s too much. fuck! m’ sorry, won’t be mean again.” you beg, but it’s no use. her hold on you only tightens and she shows no signs of letting up. 

“bullshit, baby. c’mon give me one more, yeah?” 

ELLIE WILLIAMS

you’ve had the biggest attitude all day, and it simply couldn’t be helped. you distanced yourself from ellie, had an underlying tone of annoyance in your words, and gave short responses  when talking. this wasn’t unlike you for this to happen, but ellie was still bothered by it. 

so whenever the two of you returned home from your outing, she sat down on the couch and called you over. reluctantly, you gave in and straddled her lap just like she wanted. 

“alright, c’mon baby. tell me what’s going on.” ellie says, tilting her head to the side and keeping her eyes locked on yours. her hand trailing up your outer thigh, and tracing small shapes. 

“nothing.” your voice comes out blunt and uninterested, shifting your gaze from hers to the wall. 

ellie takes your chin in her pointer finger and thumb. she doesn’t look convinced, her brows furrowed, lips forming into a thin line. you yank your head out of her grip with an exasperated groan. attempting to come off as unbothered, but she sees it in a much different way. 

her eyes darken at your insolence, finding herself grow more impatient with you. her fingers pinch a chunk of your thigh, resulting in a whine and a string of complaints from you. 

“ow, ellie! what the fuck is wro—“ 

“lose the attitude, and talk to me properly. what’s going on with you today?” the grip she has on your thigh tightens, grounding you from any distractions. her stern voice brings out that feeling in your lower stomach, and it takes everything in you to not drop the act completely.

“nothing. i’m just, i don’t know. frustrated?” your eyes fall onto her lips then her biceps. ellie notices immediately, her hardened expression turning into an intrigued one. 

“oh. oh, i see, baby.” she smirks, moving her hand to your jaw and pulling you closer. “you just need me to set that pretty head straight, yeah?” 

your lips part to protest, but you can’t find the words, leaving you silent and dumbfounded. you shift in her lap to relieve the tingly sensation coming from your cunt, but it just earns a chuckle from ellie. 

“that’s what i thought,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side your neck. her hands pull you closer to her, one arm wrapped around your waist the other settled on your jaw. “you act up when you need me. huh, is that it?” 

your cheeks burn at how easily she can see through you. that little persona was nothing but a glass window to her, but you don’t respond. instead, rolling your hips against her lap in search of friction, but ellie’s hands are on you in an instant, keeping you still.

“nah, baby.” her head shakes from side to side, voice becoming low and gravelly. “you don’t get to be a brat all day then take what you want.” 

a frustrated whines leaves your lips, and ellie grins, clearly enjoying this way too much. her hand pulls your shorts and underwear over, exposing your glistening cunt to her. she nearly drools at the sight, dragging a finger through your sopping slit. 

you grind into her hand again, and this time she lets you, thrusting her middle finger in your pussy and feeling your velvety walls clench on her. her wrist moves up and down, keeping her eyes focused on your face. she can tell you’re pleased, but it’s not enough and before you could do anything else, she pulls her hand away. 

“ellie, i— why would you do that?” you pout, giving her those sweet doe eyes. 

she pouts back but with faux sympathy. a hint of arrogance in her tone. “you wanted to act like you run shit, baby. can’t give you everything you want.” 

but eventually she does, and it was worth every second of waiting.

DINA WOODWARD

you’re pushing dina’s buttons tonight— rolling your eyes, scoffing at every little thing she says. you don’t even remember what you said exactly, but whatever it was, it made something inside of her flip.

her expression shifts. the teasing, easy-going glint in her eyes turn sharper. she turns around to face you, each step she takes forward, it’s one you take back until you hit the wall. 

she’s in front of you now— her brown baby hairs tickling the sides of your face. you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, and it only draws you in more. 

you don’t realize she’s talking until her eyes meet yours. “.. think you’re all talk? are you even listening to me right now, babe?” she questions, her voice is condescending but gentle. 

you try to hold your ground, looking past her instead of into her. anything to avoid the confrontation you set yourself up for. but her smirk only widens, planting a hand beside your head and taking your chin in her grasp. 

“you wanted my attention so bad, but now that you’ve got it, you’re silent.” her eyes scan your face, a chuckle surpassing her lips. you feel small under her gaze as if she was belittling you without even trying. 

you glare at her, but your breath stutters when her hand trails along your waist, and her thigh spilts your legs apart. the denim material of her jeans rub against your cunt, and it takes everything in you to not rut against her.

she watches you writhe under her, your muscles tensing to prevent yourself from submitting to her. “what?” her nose ghosts over your jaw, her lips are close to your skin, but not close enough to connect. “had such a mouth on you earlier. sweetheart, what happened?” 

“you act all tough, run your mouth, but the second i get my hands on you?” her low smug chuckle adds to the tension. “s’ like you forgot how to speak.” 

your stomach twists, heat curling and twisting inside of you. fuck, you hate that she’s right. how she could get you pleading with nothing but her voice. you shift on your feet to regain composure, but that was a big mistake. ‘cause now dina’s grinding her thigh into you, pushing your hips down so you have no choice but to take it. 

“y’know, maybe i should fix that.” she muses, like she was actually considering it. “maybe i should stretch you open nice and slow, make you ride my fingers ‘til your begging me to let you cum.”

a small whimper tumbles out of your lips, growing into a moan as she applies more pressure. 

“or maybe, i should take my time with you. keep you on the edge, fucking you but not in the way you want it, make you earn it..” she drags out her words like she’s picturing it. “yeah, think that’s what i’ll do.” 

she presses a deep, loving kiss to the pressure point below you ear, but before you could savor the moment, she pulls away. 

she straightens up, eyes twinkling with amusement at your fucked-out face. then proceed to chirp, “anyways, i’m gonna go get a drink. need anything?” 

you don’t respond, you stand there. staring and trying to process everything that just happened, yet she just grins and throws you a wink over her shoulder before walking off. 

SEVIKA

“keep counting, slut.” sevika’s voice echoes throughout the walls of your shared bedroom, blending with the sharp crack of her palm against your bare ass. 

“f-five,” you manage, voice broken and shaky. your legs jerk up when another smack lands—harder this time, ripping a whine from your throat.

the globes of your ass were painted a nice red. each slap stinging more than the last— a new found arousal pooled out of you and onto her hand. she uses your slick as lube, coating it in her finger and thrusting into your sopping hole. 

“ohh, fuck! you feel so good, vika,” she silences your moans with her fingers, stuffing her middle and ring into your mouth. 

“i know, baby. daddy just makes you feel good even when you don’t deserve it, yeah?” her voice, her touch, it intoxicates you, your mind being filled with nothing but sevika. each touch of hers feels electric. the sensitivity on your cunt spiking due to her spanking.

she lets out a low chuckle at the way your tongue swirls around fingers, greedily sucking them into your mouth. she pushes them further into you, her knuckles colliding with your lips. then, pulling them out slowly, smearing it all over your chin before landing a soft slap to your cheek. 

“so needy for me,” she murmurs, her fingers never faltering as they plunge into you again. her other hand finds your throat, wrapping around it, just firm enough to make your breath hitch. “this is what you wanted, huh? to be fucked stupid? to let me turn you into my perfect little fucktoy?”

you hum, nodding weakly, your lashes wet, eyes heavy—but they roll back completely when she curls her fingers just right.

she slams harder into you, deeper. her fingertips kissing your g spot with every thrust. your legs start to shake, and the grip you have on the sheets tightens. broken noises of sevika’s name tumbling out of your mouth. 

but she stops, and it’s so abrupt you start tearing up. 

“oh doll, don’t cry.” she coos with faux sympathy, sarcasm dripping in her words. “you’ll get your fill soon enough.” 

her palm strikes your ass again, the impact sending a jolt straight to your cunt. she watches it jiggle, drags her fingers over the heated skin, eyes dark with amusement.

“but i didn’t say stop counting, did i?”

VI

“oh, come on, vi. that’s all you got?” you tease, your wrists are pinned firmly above your head. you’ll admit, it’s actually pretty hard to move considering the amount of force she’s using, but she doesn’t need to know that. “seems pretty weak to me, love.” 

vi’s face darken at your words, her pupils draining the color from her eyes. her brows twitch, jaw tightens, and she exhales a slow breath, like she’s trying real hard to be patient. 

“you done?” her voice is steady and firm, her eyes glued onto your face, watching for any signs of regret. but there is none, and she knows that when she sees the corner of your lips quirk up in a smile. 

“nop—“ before you could get the word out, you were flipped onto your stomach. your face smushed against the pillows, vi’s arm wrapped around your waist, restraining any sudden movements. then, her palm strikes down hard on your ass, the sharp slap echoing throughout the room. 

“yeah?” another slap. harder, hotter. “still wanna talk shit?”

your breath shudders, body tensing under her. stubbornly, you bite down on your bottom lip to hold back a whimper. bad call. ‘cause now, she’s doing anything she can to draw out those noises from you. 

you feel the grip on your hips shift to the back of your thighs. her lips ghost over your clothed cunt,  grazing over the soaked material. “shit, baby. you’re so fucking wet. is all this from being thrown around?” she questions, but you don’t respond. so she tries gain with a different approach— pulling your panties to the side and licking a firm stripe up your folds. 

that’s what gets you to break, a small whine leaving your lips. you press your hips back on her, chasing more pleasure than what she’s giving you. she lets you use her for a bit, lets you move your hips in a circle on her tongue, even prodding your hole with it. but it’s not long ‘til she backs away. 

“you want my mouth, don’t you?” she asks, tone mocking and condescending. still, you don’t respond. she lands a sharp slap to your cunt, the juices stringing off of her fingers. “what was that? didn’t hear you, babe.” 

your pride cracks, the urge to be fucked taking over your stubbornness. “yes, yes— please just touch me.” your cheeks heat up at your own words, the feeling of embarrassment washing over you. 

she smirks at that. using her thumbs to spread apart your hole, watching it clench from her touch. she sucks in a breath, her tongue coating her lips in saliva. her lips dance over your folds again, but this time she submerged her mouth in your pussy. the word “good girl.” humming against your aching core.

CAITLYNN KIRAMANN

caitlyn’s been nose deep in her books all day, barely sparing a glance at you. it’s frustrating, all you wanted was some attention from her and she wasn’t even giving you that. so, you took matters into your own hands. 

you strode over to the lounge chair she was sitting in, your footfalls light to not disturb her reading. your body stood huffing in front of her, and she didn’t even look up. you lifted her hands up from her book and sat down in her lap. 

“need something?” she asks, her posh accent breaking through. 

yeah, your fucking attention. you thought, but remained quiet, only giving her a small hum in response. she wrapped her arm around your torso and rested her head over shoulder, continuing to read that stupid book.

you shift in her lap, finding the spot that catches your clit perfectly, and when you do, strings of small whines pour out of your lips. caitlyn notices but doesn’t say anything, instead she bounces her leg to increase the pleasure. 

“c-cait,” you whine, biting down on her shoulder to silence your moans. the pace of your hips grinding against her picks up. “cait, please. i, i need you.” 

she gives you a hum of acknowledgement, but still paying you no mind. you start to get irritated, she had a whole girl in her lap, yet she was focused on some words on a paper. your whimpers grow more louder, more needy in hopes of her giving you what you want. but when your kisses and bites start becoming intense, she breaks. 

the book slams shut, the sound of it hitting the floor is like music to your ears. her head lifts up off her shoulder to meet your eyes. her composed face being a huge contrast to your desperate, pleading one. 

“darling, you couldn’t even wait until i was finished?” she muses, tilting her head and sharpening her eyes. “had to come grind in my lap like a poor dog in heat?” 

you know she’s talking down at you, but you can’t help the small moan that escapes your lips.  “m’ sorry. just wanted you’re attention, s’ all.” your words are slurred as your orgasm builds up, using the small amount of strength to keep your eyes open. 

“i know, baby, i know.” her hand comes up to cup your jaw and draws your face closer to hers. “i’ll help you, sweetheart. make you feel real good.”

MEL MEDARDA

“you know, maybe if you weren’t sitting around looking pretty all day, you’d actually know how to fuck me properly.” the words tumble out faster than you expected, earning a raised eyebrow from mel. 

she sits her wine glass on the table, and gets up to make her way over to you. each step she takes is calculated, deliberate, and it makes you start to regret your words. her frame stands in front of you, her hazel eyes piercing down into yours. 

“repeat yourself, dear. go ahead.” she tilts her head when she talks to you. 

your throat bobs, and your mouth goes dry. but you square shoulders, refusing to let her see the effect she has on you. “you heard me.” 

mel huns, a soft knowing sound, as if she’s already bored of this game you’re playing. then she leans down, hands settling on each side of you, caging you in the couch.

“i did,” her voice is still silk, still calm, but there’s something different about her tone. it has a underlying tone of danger, warning. her fingers trace along your jaw. her touch is featherlight and delicate like you’ll break from the slightest amount of pressure. 

“so tell me, love—“ she takes your jaw in hand, forcing your eyes to meet hers. “—how exactly would you like to be fucked?” 

your breath catches, body tensing under her touch, but she doesn’t give you time to answer before her hand slides between your thighs. her touch is light, barely there—nothing more than a ghost of pressure on your clothed core.

“like this?” she asks, mocking, her fingers glide up and down at torturous pace. “soft? slow?” 

you look up at her with half lidded eyes, her words hanging heavy in your head. her grip tightens—the warmth of her hand suddenly gone, only to be replaced with a sharp slap to your inner thigh. you flinch, and mel just smiles, tilting her head as if she’s studying you. 

“or maybe—” she leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, her voice nothing but a whisper, ”—you’d prefer i throw you over this couch and remind you exactly what i’m capable of?”

your stomach flips, heat pooling low in your gut, but you force yourself to hold your ground, lips curling into a smirk.

“talk is cheap, mel.”

her expression doesn’t change—not at first. but then, slowly, a smirk of her own tugs at her lips.

“oh, darling—” she breathes, her fingers suddenly wrapping around your throat, firm, tilting your head back against the cushions.

her thumb presses just right, not tight enough to hurt, but enough to make your breath hitch, enough to make your head spin.

”—you should know by now that i never just talk.”

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[literary-dolly]

jailbird

jason todd x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k warnings: police, reader gets held at gunpoint and arrested (whomp whomp) and it’s a bit brutal, other than that i think it’s fine

Can you really call it a meet-cute if you meet the love of your life in a prison cell?

Yeah, this was not how you thought your day was going to go.

When your boss had told you that you needed to go and work a shift in Bludhaven, you’d shrugged. It was Bludhaven, how bad could it be? It certainly couldn’t be any worse than Gotham and it’s collective of rogues that seemed to haunt every street corner these days. Oh, and the giant man dressed as a bat. Everywhere needs it's selling point.

As it turns out, Bludhaven must be the safest place on earth, because seemingly their biggest perpetrator is you.

Everyone knew about the corrupt cops, that was a given. Everyone knew about the rag-tag villains that made their way over from Gotham and the like. What everybody didn’t know about Bludhaven, was the danger of being dragged out of your car at gunpoint by a police officer, being screamed at to get on the ground as traffic skidded perilously close to your body, handcuffed and raced to the nearest police station with the sirens screaming in your ears.

You were keeping your cool, which honestly, was quite the feat. The beginnings of tears had pricked at your eyes as they read your rights (because clearly that was something that had been considered when you’d been thrown onto the concrete), the thrum of your heartbeat rushing around your head and clouding every conceivable thought. But you held it together in spite of it all, refusing to give the smarmy officer with a twisted grin the satisfaction of watching you break down.

You still didn’t even know what you’d done.

Their hands are rough as they begin to muscle you towards a holding cell, jeering as they push you forward, feet stumbling to keep upright. You lip begins to throb from the force of your teeth sinking deep into the flesh, but still, you manage not to break.

The cells are remarkably empty, save for one a lone man whistling in the corner (he promptly quiets when you and the officers enter), and you’re pushed forward into one without much thought, knees hitting the ground sharply with the force of the shove. They don’t even take your cuffs off.

“Give us half an hour, sweetheart, we’ll be back,” the big, round officer chuckles snidely, a barking laugh coming from his counterpart behind him. The two make quiet jokes to each other as they bicker back and forth. The final swing of the door slamming shut makes every muscle tighten, and when they release again, everything else seems to be unleashed with it.

The tears are coming thick and fast before you can even register the wetness on your cheeks – it’s not sadness, its rage. You muffle quiet sobs with the back of your hand as you brush yourself off, hoisting yourself upwards with what feels like every ounce of energy left within. You hadn’t even been able to call your job and tell them that you had gotten a little caught up and probably wouldn’t be making it in today. With this luck, you were probably going to be fired by 5pm this evening.

“Hey,” a rough voice calls from across the room, startling you from your thoughts. It’s surprisingly tender, “You doin’ okay?”

You wipe your eyes roughly, staring upwards towards the man in the cell across from you, taking him in with a long glance. He’s tall, but more so than that, he’s huge. Honestly, it’s a surprise they fit him through the doors around here. Even through his tattered hoodie and jeans, it’s not hard to tell he has the physique of some kind of bodybuilder, the muscles in his forearms taut as he leans casually against the bars. A mop of unruly black hair lays atop his head, broken by a vivid strike of white curled against his forehead.

In normal circumstances, you would be intimidated by the sheer stature of a man like him, but his eyes are what capture your attention. A gentle baby blue, flecked with stripes of green than seem to flicker as he stares – they’re kind. There’s a softness to his gaze that was more courteous than any other you’d experienced so far today.

He’s exceptionally attractive, so there’s always that.

“Yeah, yeah,” your voice is brittle when it finally comes out, “I’m, uhm, okay, just a rough morning.”

“What have they got you in here for?” His head tilts to the side with and ever so slightly furrow of his brow, “no offense, but you don’t exactly strike me as the armed robbery type.”

You have to stifle a laugh at the absurdity of the situation, “Uhm, I’m not really sure, to be honest with you. I was just driving to work and now I’m here.”

“What?” His voice is sharp and there’s an edge to it that can’t be mistaken, “they just arrested you and didn’t tell you what it was for? That’s like Policing 101.”

“Tell me about it,” you huff, heart rate finally beginning to slow, “I…haven’t done anything. I mean yeah, I accidentally stole that yoghurt at the checkout but that was like a month ago, and that was just because I forgot to scan it! And that was in Gotham, not here. I’ve never even been here before!”

A grin fights its way onto the face of the handsome stranger, and he shakes his head in what seems to be a smidge of disbelief, “Oh that’ll be it, I hear they’ve been looking for the reprobate that did that one for weeks now. But seriously,” he pauses and his eyes narrow, “they hurt you?”

“No,” you hum, before sighing and settling yourself back onto the floor, it was likely going to be a fair bit longer than half hour before you got out of here anyway, “they were a little rough. Unnecessarily forceful, pulled a gun, but I’m not hurt.” Not physically anyway.

If you weren’t staring directly at him, you would’ve missed the way the stranger’s eyes darken, swathes of green seeming to swim faster around his irises. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked like he was planning a murder. You’re suddenly struck by the potential danger of your new companion, after all, he was trapped in a cell same as you.

He shakes the look from his eyes almost instantly, stretching his noticeably uncuffed hands out behind him with a sickening crack. For a second, he seems to wince at the action but quickly pulls himself back to his languid stance against the bars.

“What about you?” you bite the bullet despite your reservations, offering him a small smile to show there was no animosity in the question, “what did they get you for?”

“Armed Robbery,” he replies without missing a beat making you choke a little, a shark-like grin stretching across his lips, a soft chuckle rattling his chest, “No, I'm joking. Speeding - but I happen to be a very good driver.”

“Oh, is that right?” you bite back playfully, “I thought I took the wrong turn to the motor track but apparently I made it in the end.”

Both of your laughs seem to mingle together in the stagnant air of the cells, his deep vibrato making something stir in the pit of your stomach. Isn’t this like rule number one of stranger danger? Don’t be enchanted by random man met in prison cell on a Tuesday lunchtime.

“Okay, Comedy Club,” the stranger lets out a bemused sigh, “so tell me, how does a degenerate like you end up in a paradise like Bludhaven?”

Your eyes meet for a second, and in spite of every warning sign, you can’t help but feel an affinity for this guy. He’s funny, and he’s handsome, and oh fuck it, it’s not like there’s anything else you could stand a chance to lose today.

“So, it starts with my bastard of a boss, right?”

Handsome stranger is in the middle of regaling you with a story about how him and his best friend accidentally turned a lighter into a blowtorch when the angry voice cuts through the room, metal door slamming open with a clang against the wall behind it.

“Jason, seriously? Why can’t you just call like a normal person? One-twenty in a fifty! I mean seriously!” A dark-haired officer rushes forward to face Jason’s cell. He’s not as tall as the former, a lot leaner, but seems to be fairly strong from the way the bars rattle as his hand clamps around one, “You know how busy I’ve been. If this is about B-“

“Dickhead,” Jason bites with a smug grin, nodding towards you in the cell opposite, “Good to know your senses are as astute as always. I know Alfred taught you the same manners he taught me. We have company.”

The officer spins on his heel with a sheepish grin, a nervous laugh dripping from his mouth. He’s also strikingly attractive in that universally-accepted, male model kind of way – not as much so as Jason, who seems to be constructed entirely of hard lines and edges.

“Pardon my manners, I’m Officer Grayson. Dick Grayson,” the man offers kindly, a warm mirth in his eyes, “I was simply distracted by this one here. He’s a real problem, like, you wouldn’t believe.”

Jason kicks him through the bars, eliciting a yelp from Dick, who only seems to offer him a scowl in response. You realise all at once the similarities between how the two hold themselves, their seemingly boisterous way with one and other, and also the fact that Officer Grayson hasn’t called in any support and tackled Jason to the ground. Brothers.

“I did call, Dickiebird,” Jason hums, “You didn’t pick up.”

“You called once, Jay!” Dick sounds utterly exasperated, “I’m at work – and trying to be professional.” Dick throws a few pointed head movements in your direction.

“It’s important, Dick,” Jason’s voice steels, and all of a sudden there’s the same seriousness you caught a glimpse of briefly when you’d mentioned the gun earlier, “About our mutual friend, you know the one.”

Concern passes Dick’s face briefly, the light of realisation brightening his eyes. Wordlessly, Dick swipes his badge against the cell door, and it swings open, prompting Jason to straighten up to his full height and step out into the light.

Heaven almighty.

“I get off in twenty, and I reckon we have about thirty before they realise you’re not going to show up on the system. Can I trust you to wait outside?” Dick concedes, staring uncertainly towards his brother.

“Been outside before, Dickhead,” Jason grumbles roughly, “Not a fucking animal.”

“Yeah, okay Jay. Cuffs?” Dick asks, brow pinched between his fingers. Without a sound and nothing more than a shit-eating grin, Jason slowly peels the missing cuffs out of his pocket, placing them in Dick’s open palm, who reacts with little more than a sigh, “I’ve been telling them we need better ones for months.”

“Cuffs aren’t the problem, Dickie,” Jason chuckles, pushing his way past his counterpart towards the door. Dick turns on his heel and begins to follow, reaching around to open the door.

“I don’t understand why you were in there for so long, Jaybird. You could’ve broken out hours ago,” Dick mutters, seemingly to himself more than anything.

Jason’s gaze flicks to you, warmth in his features, and with a soft smile he utters, “I had some pretty good company. See ya’ around, Comedy Club.”

You offer him a soft smile in return, trying to ignore the way your heart batters against your ribcage. Jason.

The door shuts behind them. You are alone, again, still in a prison cell and mostly definitely in need of a new job – but for some reason, you don’t feel too bad about it all.

It takes all of five minutes for Dick to return, storming in and muttering profanities under his breath. He presses his badge against your cell door. It swings open, and he takes a hasty step forward to start undoing the cuffs that have left deep indents on your wrists.

“I can’t give you those hours of your life back, but I can apologise,” his words are sincere, and marred by some kind of resentment, “I am so sorry about this. They mistook you for someone else who we’ve had a warrant out for a while now – but they had no reason to treat you like they did. If you want to press charges, I can point you in the right direction.”

“It’s alright,” you offer, surprised by the cheer in your own voice, “it really wasn’t that bad in the end. And I can check one thing off the bucket list, I suppose.”

Dick chokes back a laugh, unable to fight the grin that comes forward. “I like you, kid, you got some spirit. Now come on, enjoy your freedom. Who knows how long it’ll be before you're back behind bars again, huh?”

The transition out of the station goes a lot more smoothly than your entrance. As you take your possessions back from the front desk, you’re fairly certain you can hear Dick admonishing the two officers that arrested you from the adjacent room.

Now, that makes you smile.

Stepping out into the parking lot, you feel silly as you glance around, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Jason before you likely never see him again – maybe even exchange numbers. You find yourself thoroughly unsurprised when he’s nowhere to be seen.

By the time you make it back home to Gotham, the sky has dulled to a smog-laced, inky black, nothing but moonlight bleeding out into the darkness. It may be gross, criminally-infested and maybe the worst-holiday destination in the entire world, but its home. As your keys sink into the front door of your apartment building and your breath pools out in an icy furl, you swear you catch a flash out of red out of the corner of your eye. It’s probably nothing more than some rogue out causing trouble after sundown, nothing out of the ordinary.

It's only when you collapse onto the couch that the weight of the day finally hits you, limbs feeling suspiciously like lead as you melt into the cushions.

What a day.

Jason joking about armed robbery like he doesn't commit actual murder on the regular.

If you liked it, well, like it - a reblog is always appreciated. If not, leave me alone.

[bunni-v1]

Competition

🍓I did it! This has been in my drafts since Amphorus was released, so it's been a long time. Anyway, it's done, I can rest. I hope you enjoy, I worked very hard on this one, if it flops I might just delete my account.

Tw: Marking; Threesome; NSFW

Info: Mydei x Reader x Phainon; NSFW; Fic

Word Count: 3.8k words

MDNI

Mydei and Phainon, despite what most people think, work incredibly well together. Despite being headstrong and bickering back and forth most of the time, they challenge each other to be their best version. In everything. Even in bed, which is how you ended up in the position you were in right now.

You don’t even fully remember what exactly happened to get you here, back pressed against Mydei’s chest, Phainon buried between your thighs. It started with Phainon’s taunting, you think, and inevitably Mydei’s ego couldn’t let him lose. You just so happened to be the argument piece this time, meaning you were the deciding factor on who won. So your night would be spent between these two hotheaded men, not that you were complaining.

Mydei’s fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, keeping you spread wide open for Phainon and his pleasure. His eyes burn against your skin, chin resting on your shoulder taking in the sight of Phainon with unrestrained enjoyment. His tongue was lapping at your folds relentlessly, shameless slurping echoing off the walls of your room. He alternated between sucking at your clit and drinking up your slick, the hot muscle occasionally dipping into your hole to get a better taste.

Mydei’s eyes only seemed to make him more eager than usual, doing his best to win whatever stupid challenge they had going on right now. You’d be more mad at him if he wasn’t doing such a good job at making you moan like a whore. Your head is already fuzzy with pleasure, his eager attitude as he completely swallows you whole is nearly mind-breaking. He must’ve been going down on you for almost half an hour now, edging and pushing you so close, but never letting you cum. Maybe you should let him and Mydei argue more often…

“Enjoying yourself down there?” Mydei grumbles, and it rumbles in his chest, shaking the foundation of your being at the sound.

He hums, giving you a particularly harsh suck, making your back arch off Mydei as if to prove he was enjoying it. Mydei rolls his eyes, pressing you right back to him as soon as you leave. His fingers trace up from where they press against your sternum, calloused tips leaving goosebumps in their path, right until they reach one of your nipples. He gives it a harsh tug, snickering when you gasp, then rolls it almost tenderly between his fingers.

You whimper at the added sensation, they cry out when he starts nibbling along your neck. His teeth bite just hard enough that they’ll leave marks along the expanse of your sensitive skin. Your body shudders at the feeling, curling your fingers into Phainon’s hair to try and ground yourself, but it’s impossible with the double assault they’re doing on your body.

You squeak at a particularly harsh bite from Mydei, feeling your orgasm building all too rapidly. It takes only a few more licks from Phainon, and another harsh bite from Mydei, to have you tumbling over the edge. Your body trembles at the sensation, moaning out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Mydei~” You feel him smirk into your shoulder, tongue lapping at his most recent mark.

This doesn’t seem to please Phainon, despite him being the main reason for your pleasure. His hands cusp your ass, tugging you into a new position for easier access. Feet dangling off his shoulders, body almost folded in half as he pressed his tongue inside you as deeply as he could get it. This has Mydei laughing out loud as you cry out in surprise.

You shake your head rapidly at Phainon, but he’s so engulfed in your pussy, you don’t think he can even begin to think about stopping. Luckily, Mydei is there to be your hero, shoving Phainon away from you with one hand while the other pulls you up again. Phainon practically growls as he fights back to his position, but Mydei denies him once again with ease. More focused on your teary-eyed expression.

“Already too much for you?” He asks gently, doing his best to ease you back to earth.

Gasping, Phainon finally sits up and affixes a glare on his partner, “Why’d you stop me? What’s the deal?”

“The deal is that you need to stop thinking with your dick,” Mydei scolds, and there is no humor in his voice, despite how funny what he just said was to you.

The war-hardened warrior cradles you in his arms like you are the most precious thing on this side of the cosmos, and the irony of him being the gentle one is not lost on you. You don’t complain when he eases your body back into the bed, making sure you relax fully before giving Phainon his attention with an unimpressed raise of his eyebrow and a gesture of his hand. The other man finally relents his glare with a sigh, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he apologizes, “I just can’t help myself sometimes.”

“You should start,” Mydei comments dryly.

His fingers carefully massage over your muscles, knowing every place to press to make them relax beneath his touch. Phainon leans down at your side, playing with strands of your hair with a fond smile. They seem happy enough caring for you like this, so you don’t protest against anything. It was better than hearing them bicker the whole time.

Slowly you come down from your high, body feeling nice and light from your orgasm, but you can’t help but feel unsatisfied. You only came once, and the two of them were still fully dressed. It felt a bit unfair that they got to have their fun with you and then walk away unsatisfied. For a moment, you really do think they might call their competition there. Knowing how soft Mydei was on you, it wouldn’t surprise you if he didn’t want to keep going after seeing you teary-eyed.

Then, Phainon breaks the silence, “Y’know, only one isn’t a good measure. We should have at least three to get a good pool to pull from.”

“Are you seriously pulling best of three right now?” Mydei asks incredulously.

Before Phainon can argue his point, Mydei glances up at you from his spot between your legs. It’s a subtle ask for permission, likely the only amount of control you’ll get for the rest of the night. Phainon’s big blue eyes practically beg you to say yes. It’s very hard to say no with both of them watching you so intently, so you nod at them.

Your head spins when Phainon practically dives in for your lips, getting one or two kisses in, before being harshly yanked back by Mydei’s hand. The noise he lets out is hilarious, especially when he looks positively offended by Mydei’s actions. A silent argument passes between them, Mydei winning as Phainon sits back with a pouty expression. Mydei is smug, smirking to himself a bit as he leans over you, caging your head between his arms.

His gold eyes burn bright this close, their intensity heating you from the inside out. Or perhaps that was how warm he was. He’d always run hotter than others, but at this proximity, it felt like his skin might melt yours with the heat he radiated. You do not turn to liquid beneath him, and so you stare into his eyes with your own vigor, though it is undoubtedly duller than his own. It’s still enough to get him to bend down and kiss you, far more gently than Phainon had.

Mydei likes to take his time. Most take him as a hothead with no patience, but you know him more intimately than them. You know he is soft and kind inside, he is only harsh and unkind because that is what he is expected to be. This gentleness of his comes out in the bedroom, easing you through your pleasure as if there is nothing more in the world he needed to do. His kisses show this better than anything, deep and slow, letting you decide how far he goes. His tongue only goes into your mouth when you let him, and his hands only trace across your skin when yours curl into his hair. It’s a slow dance, one that he loves to divulge you in.

When he pulls back, he takes a moment to admire your flushed face before moving to kiss across your shoulders. His hair tickles your chest as he kisses across your collarbones, revisiting old marks he’d left earlier. Making sure that they do stay. The slow crawl of his heated kisses makes you dizzy, sighing at each nip and suck he leaves. Unable to look at his face any longer, you draw your eyes across the expanse of his back along the bed, and right up to Phainon.

His pretty eyes crinkle in a smile when you look at him as if he is being positively neglected. You give a listful one back. His shoulder is moving slightly, making his head bob a little, and his hair moves in an almost ethereal manner. Curiosity gets the better of you, and your eyes trace down from his shoulder to his hand, which is lightly palming over his hard-on. You blink up at him again, and he tilts his head innocently at you. 

You almost have it in you to reach out to try and help, as if you could when he is at the other side of the bed, by Mydei has every intent of keeping you focused on him. You gasp when a finger traces around your labia, spreading you apart. Your walls clamp around nothing in anticipation of the touch that follows quickly after, lightly tracing over your clit. He peers up at you from his spot latched onto your tit, still sucking on it like letting you go might kill him. When you suck in a deep breath, he rolls his finger around your clit harsher.

He smirks when you swallow, closing your eyes tight again at the sensation. He continues the motion with ease, moving down your body with his lips. You shudder when he peppers kisses just below your naval, readjusting his fingers to a much better angle. Like this, he can move them faster, drawing more sighs from your lips. They dip down to your opening, collecting your juices and returning to their previous ministrations. 

It’s not quite as nice as Phainon’s tongue, but it still feels good. Mydei is impossibly good with his fingers, and the callouses only add more texture to the whole sensation. It’s so good, head rolling back into the pillows so you can relax and enjoy the feeling properly. You feel the bed sink next to you and lean your head against Phainon without being told to do so. He kisses your temple, hands coming to your chest to play with your tits just like Mydei had before.

He rubs his thumbs over your nipples lightly, making them pebble up in seconds. You huff out a little moan, peaking an eye open to watch the way he plays with them. He smiles against your temple, whispering praises against your skin. His fingers pinch the hard bud between them, pulling and twisting just hard enough that it makes your toes curl.

Mydei’s fingers slow their motion, falling from your clit to your neglected hole. He gives you a second to ready yourself, which you respond to with a clench around nothing. He smiles at that, then finally pushes two fingers inside. The stretch is made easy by just how wet you are, and he’s able to get both fingers down to their base with no issue. Phainon whispers a ‘good job’ to you, watching the show while still playing with your chest. Having moved to cup your breasts now, squeezing them playfully now and again.

Mydei does not waste time pumping his fingers into you, palm grinding down on your clit each time he makes contact. His face is fully concentrated on fucking you with his fingers, rhythm steady and even, consistently hitting all the right spots over and over. He doesn’t relent for anything, not even when you curl into Phainon’s chest, as if you could hide from the pleasure eating you inside out. 

He curls his fingers in a come hither motion, rubbing your g-spot perfectly. You whimper out his name, and he finally looks at you, hungry and ready to consume you whole if you’ll let him. Without any more thought, his other hand spreads across your naval, and his thumb rubs at your clit in time with his thrusts. You chew on the tips of your fingers as you watch him finger fuck you, mind fogging up again as you near the edge. 

“You gonna come?” Phainon asks too sweet for the situation you’re in.

You still nod, and he tilts your chin up to swallow up your moans. His kiss is more demanding of what he wants, and you give him it without argument. You cry out as Mydei gives you a particularly rough flick, and you tumble over the edge. Legs shaking as Phainon presses you into an even deeper kiss, muffling any sounds you might’ve made for Mydei. His fingers continue to work you through your orgasm, slowing only when you seem to come down little by little. Phainon allows you to breathe when you stop shaking, and you look at Mydei with blurry vision, appreciating the sight of him cleaning you off his fingers.

“You’re so pretty when you’re cumming, have I told you that?” Phinon asks, Mydei humming his agreement for the first time that night.

The ladder eases you up into a sitting position, allowing Phainon to get behind you properly. You feel his dick smack against your bare back, and you realize he’d definitely been jerking himself off the whole time. You just hadn’t had the brainpower to notice it. 

Mydei focuses your attention back on him with a squeeze of your waist, “You okay for another?”

You nod immediately, more than willing to keep going for them. He shares a look with Phainon over your shoulder, and you try and fail to follow it, only able to see the other man’s jaw from your position. Mydei pulls away as Phainon pulls you back against his chest, and you reach out to him like he might leave the room. He is sweet enough to grab your hand and squeeze it in reassurance, then he returns to removing his own pants, angry red member springing out from its confines.

You’re sure you’re drooling as you watch it bob a few times. Phainon grins at your reaction, pressed into the back of your neck. You almost don't realize he’s carefully lifting you up in your stupor, but you gain your bearings enough when he traces himself across your pussy a few times.

“Ready?” He asks with all the sweetness he can muster, you can’t find it in yourself to say anything but yes.

With that approval, he slowly sinks you down onto him. The stretch stings, far more difficult to take than two of Mydei’s fingers, yet your pussy swallows him up obediently. It sucks him up so well you feel embarrassed like you were too needy for him. With the way you whimper, you might as well be, yet he doesn’t bother teasing you as he finally sheaths himself inside. He presses his forehead into your shoulder, trying to compose himself. His hot breath fans down your back, making you shiver in anticipation for what's to come.

You unwittingly clench around him, and he groans, pressing a hand right above where his tip would be inside. What his goal was, you weren’t sure, but the warmth of his fingers was welcome on your heated skin. They drum a few times as he calms himself, the feeling not helping you loosen up anymore. It seems to aid in his recovery, finally peering over your shoulder at Mydei, who is smirking to himself at the show.

“Can’t handle yourself over there?” He asks slyly.

Phainon huffs into your shoulder, “Easy to say when you’re not the one inside her.”

He hums, coming over to your side. He admires the two of you for a moment, taking in the sight with unrestrained delight. His fingers come up as he does so, tracing the lines of your face gently. The caress follows along your cheekbones, down to your jaw, lightly grabbing your chin and running his thumb along your bottom lip.

His other hand holds his dick firmly, keeping it level with your eye the whole time. You watch it with interest, wanting nothing more than to have it in your mouth as soon as possible, but Mydei demands your patience. Two taps of his thumb has you looking up at him obediently through your lashes, golden eyes burning the look into his mind.

You can feel Phainon’s eyes on you too, the intensity of their gazes nearly sending you into a spiral then and there. You bat your lashes up at Mydei, practically begging him to let you suck him off. It gets him smirking, sending Phainon a quick look before tapping your lip three times. You open up for him like you’re asked, and he presses the angry red tip between your lips. 

You waste no time in taking him into your mouth, sucking on his tip excitedly. You lick up the precum threatening to slide down his shaft, enjoying the salty taste like any other treat. His hand finds your hair, easing you to take more of him in your mouth slowly. As he does so, Phainon takes it as his sign to start moving. He lifts your hips slightly and begins a quick pace, hips pushing up into your ass over and over again.

It gets you moaning around Mydei, making him groan lowly and tighten his grip on your hair. He makes sure you suck him off nice and slow, a wild juxtaposition from Phainon’s frantic thrusting. You can’t tell what you should focus on more, moving your hips or taking more of Mydei in your mouth. You want to fit him down your throat, you know you can do it, but it would be hard with the way Phainon’s jostling you around.

He grips your hips tightly, using them as leverage as he pounds into you from below. It’s a bruising pace that has your walls fluttering with each connection he makes. The addition of Mydei only makes you more lightheaded, unable to focus on sucking him off and fucking yourself back into Phainon.

You don’t have to worry about it for long, not when Phainon’s fingers thread into your hair and between Mydei’s. He readjusts your position slightly so you’re at an angle, and then he pushes you back and forth with a newfound force. You swallow Mydei down to the base, then get pulled back to sheathe Phainon again fully. He does it over and over until you cannot do anything but suck and squeeze, mind mush and full of nothing but them.

It doesn’t take long for that coil to wind up in your stomach, tight and hotter than ever before. The sensation burns in your stomach, pleasure nearly consuming you whole. The only thing holding you together is Mydei’s gaze burning into your skin, his molten gold eyes drinking you in like a man gone mad with lust. That was what sent you over the edge, choking out your orgasm on Mydei’s cock.

You squeeze around Phainon’s throbbing member, pussy doing its very best to milk him for all he’s got. You’re not surprised when he cums shortly after you, spilling his seed into your swollen cunt. He bites into your shoulder, opposite where Mydei had earlier, muffling his groans into your skin. 

He does not forget about Mydei, though, aiding him in bobbing your head up and down his shaft more rapidly. Tears prick your eyes at the harsh speed, but you keep up with them as best as you can. You wanted Mydei to cum, you wanted to swallow it up and show him how good you were for him. You needed to at this point, you might go mad if you don’t.

You whimper along his shaft, and he groans, gritting his teeth to try and level himself out. It doesn’t work very well, you can feel him throbbing on your tongue. He’s close, you know he is, if only you can tip him over the edge. Phainon seems to have the same idea, grabbing the back of your head harshly and pushing you until your nose lays flat against his skin. 

Pressed into him like this, all you could do was breathe and swallow, teary eyes pleading with him to just give you what you want. It seems to do the trick, and in the next moment he is throwing his head back in a deep groan. White hot pleasure pours down your throat, and you swallow it up as best as you can. Sputtering when Phainon finally lets you pull away, gasping for the air you were desperately missing.

He rubs your back reassuringly, pressing apologetic kisses into your shoulder as he whispers out his praises for you. You go limp in his arms, unable to hold yourself upright anymore after everything your body has been through. It takes a long time for the three of you to come back down to earth, much longer for you than for them, but when you do you are cuddled between the two of them. Head on Mydei’s chest and Phainon kissing along your back as usual.

Mydei is stroking your hair with one of his hands, the other squeezing your waist reassuringly. He kisses the crown of your head when he notices you looking at him, silent praise for your hard work getting you sighing all over again. Phainon cheekily rests his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling your cheek like an overgrown puppy.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks, punctuated by another kiss to your neck.

You can’t manage to speak yet, so you nod with a weak little smile. You were so very tired, completely fucked out, but entirely satisfied. You hoped they were too, what with how hard you worked to pleasure them, you’d be devastated if they weren’t.

“It’s too bad we didn’t figure out who made you feel better this time,” He sighs wistfully like it’s truly a travesty.

Mydei scoffs, finally speaking up, “I’m pretty sure she called out my name more than yours.”

“The first one was a cheat and you know it.” He fires back.

Mydei scoffs, “And you making out with her when I was clearly about to win wasn’t?”

…and they are back to bickering back and forth. For a moment you almost believed things might be peaceful for now.

[writing-for-marvel]

My Personal Player 2

Virgin!Gamer!Jake Jensen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re ready to take the next step in your relationship, but Jake has a secret to disclose first.

Warnings: strictly 18+, dry humping, Jake revealing he’s a virgin and insecurity around not having experience with physical intimacy

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: had this little thought bubble and ran with it. I just love the idea of an inexperienced JJ 🥺 banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

“Jakey?” You coo, wishing to grab your boyfriend's attention. However, he’s far too engrossed in his gaming to hear you. Typical.

Seeing the way the muscles of his back tense, hearing the little grunts and growls slipping past his lips as he concentrates on conquering the game, is enough to turn you on, desperate for him to take action and ease the throbbing between your legs.

You’ve been doing a lot of hanging out since you started dating JJ. Well, actually, that is all you have done. Every time you are alone, making out, hands slipping below clothes, he always finds a reason to stop. You’d never force him to do anything he didn’t want to do, but after dating for a month without any action, you can’t deny you are straight up horny.

Perhaps he’s just someone who likes it when his girl takes control - that’s what your mind is focused on as you saunter over to the couch.

Frustration tightens your chest when he barely notices your presence, looking intently past you at his game. But from this position, you can watch his nimble fingers skillfully use the controller and it makes you wonder just how good they could make you feel if they were inside you.

“Jakey.” You repeat, firmer this time, taking off his glasses and forcing your way into his lap, straddling him so he can’t help but switch his attention from the game to you. “I need you to fuck me so hard that I can’t walk tomorrow.” You lower your voice and whisper directly in his ear.

It’s actually very endearing, the blush that creeps up his cheeks and the little whimper which escapes his lips. It makes you want to sink to your knees, take him in your mouth and hear him absolutely lose it as you choke on his cock.

“The thing is, I don’t- I mean I haven’t ever, umm…” His face is almost as red as a tomato as he struggles to admit what you’d suspected for the past month. As he mumbles, you direct his face towards yours with an index finger underneath his chin. His vulnerable eyes meet yours before you place a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Jakey, are you a virgin?” He cringes at the word, closing his eyes because he simply cannot look at you when admitting something he is so ashamed of and has tried to conceal for so long.

“Well… I mean technically…”

“Baby, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He finally opens his eyes, surprise mixed with scepticism looking back at you.

“You’re not turned off by the fact I have no experience?” His voice is low, shaky and it breaks your heart in two that he really thought your feelings for him would be any different just because he’s taking his time being physically intimate with someone.

“Of course not, JJ. You know I’m actually quite possessive, it turns me on that I get to be your first, that I get to corrupt you, that you’re all mine.” You growl, in his ear, rolling your hips down onto his, earning you a whimper from his lips.

“I’m worried I won’t be good enough for you.” He whispers barely louder than the music coming from his gaming console. “That I’ll be bad at it and won’t be able to make you feel good.”

And that you’ll leave me because of it, are the words he leaves unsaid, hanging in the minimal space between you.

You place a soft kiss to his lips, feeling his bulge growing beneath you, his hands grip your hips, fingers tightly pressing into you as if to keep you anchored to him, stopping you from leaving as he admits his insecurities.

“Jakey, if you actually care about my pleasure, then you’re already doing better than pretty much every other guy I’ve been with.” He winces ever so slightly at the mention of you having slept with other people, as if he doesn’t want the reminder he’s the one completely out of his depth.

It’s sweet, how flushed he is, and the embarrassed glimmer in his beautiful eyes. Oh, you’re going to have so much fun teaching him all the sinful things you can do to pleasure each other.

“Do you want to touch me?”

He nods without saying a word. Eyes wide, taking in every small movement you make. You’ve never had a man look so captivated by you simply straddling them, fully clothed. You feel powerful, holding all his attention which had not too long ago been solely on his game.

You direct his hands beneath your shirt, slow enough that he can pull away if he so wishes, where he cups the swell of your breasts. His eyes are mesmerised by you as his hands explore your soft skin, whimpering as his thumbs push aside your bra and feel your hard nipples for the first time.

Jake’s breath catches in his throat when you move your hips. You can feel practically every detail of his hard, thick cock hidden by his sweatpants as you rock against him.

“You like that? Does it feel good, baby?”

“Mhmm.” He mewls with a squeeze of your hips, you instinctively quicken the pace of your grinding movements just to get him to make more sounds like that.

Resting your forehead against his allows you to not only hear every little whimper that falls from his lips with every rock of your hips, but also to see how much desire there is in his familiar blue eyes, how aroused he is by you.

You can feel how soaked your underwear is, how with each fluid motion of your hips your clit is stimulated as you drag your core against his hard length. A warm pressure slowly builds from the bottom of your belly, tightening like someone pulling a knot, but you’re trying to hold it together - this is about Jake’s pleasure, not your own.

He looks completely done for, eyes rolling back, his jaw slack, breathing shallow, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Someone so close to busting in their pants so quickly from a little grinding. Fuck, you can’t wait to have him naked and writhing for you.

“You’re so close, aren’t you JJ?” You hum in his ear and he bucks his hips as if to respond in the affirmative. “I want you to cum for me.”

And those simple words are the end of him, like you’ve finally provided him permission and he no longer has to hold back.

He cums with a cry of your name, fingers bruising your waist as he holds on for dear life. A wet patch on his grey sweatpants appears, spreading outwards as his thighs relax underneath you and a blissed out sigh falls from his lips.

“Fuck, that felt amazing.” He pants, out of breath, looking up at you with those innocent blue eyes as if you’re a goddess, the only woman in the world who could make him come undone.

Pride blooms in your chest knowing you’re the only woman who has not only seen Jake Jensen cum, but been the reason for his orgasm. You hope you’re the only person who will ever experience that pleasure.

“It’s gonna feel so much better when you’re inside me.”

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[monstersholygrail]

I've been working on stuff for uni and I just thought of something-

Yandere!university professor who does his very best for you to be accepted in his master program and his only.

He can't risk having you accepting another master program's offer, right ? I mean, how else is he going to keep an eye on you, make sure you're safe and succeed ?

But let's be honest here. Even if you don't end up passing your exams, it's fine. He's right there to take care of you after all, is he not ?

Yandere!University Professor x GN Reader

It took a great deal of work to manage to make oneself into a highly regarded professor at a prestigious university. If anyone were to even simply bring up Yandere!University Professor’s name, they’d hear that there was no better teacher than him. None more dedicated, caring, patient, understanding, and always incredibly helpful. They’d tell you that it was as though it was his calling. A perfectly gentle hand that naturally guided young and impressionable students on their way to a better future.

It was something he took great pride in. It was almost as though he had a six sense about these sort of things. Managing to spot star students right away and tucking them close under his wing where he could direct and nurture them. Ensuring them that he knew best, they should trust him, let him take care of everything. Then letting them go on their way, even if they were left a little uncertain. He had done his job right.

But all that changed when he first saw you nervously shuffle into his classroom. Apologizing to every student you accidentally bump into. Your mouth closing and parting as you hesitate to ask if anyone had taken this empty seat before promptly rushing over to an empty cluster of chairs. With you he didn’t see some star student who he could mold their future career plans for. No, you gave him a far more delicious challenge. He wouldn’t just mold your future, he’d mold your life. Your life with him.

He isn’t surprised to find you struggling with his course right off the bat. Far more early than is necessary for this type of concern, he comes to you, offering he tutor you. He’s helped so many before you, you can trust him to get you through the class. The best environment to learn is somewhere comfortable, so why not his home, right? Although you’re unsure at first, his assurances break you down. Before you know it you’re going over to his place nearly every night, studying well into the night. It only makes sense for you to stay, he couldn’t have you getting hurt out there.

As the weeks go on of course your fellow classmates begin to whisper. Trading rumors and gossip every time you pass them. You try not to let them get to you. You know nothings going on with your professor, the two of you always just study together.

Sure, he sits a little close to you on the couch, his arm curling around your shoulders and rubbing your back whenever you get an answer right. And yeah, sometimes you feel like you’re being watched by the painting of the man hung in the guest room. Maybe sometimes the two of you tire yourselves out so much studying that you both fall asleep and somehow end up tangled up in each others arms. But it’s all harmless! And he’s helped countless students before you, you have no reason to be suspicious. Not of someone who’s helped your grades go from scraping by to getting high marks.

With exams getting closer and closer you’re only feeling more confident in your abilities to succeed after this class. One evening you express just that to your Professor. Thanking him profusely for all the ways he’s helped you. Building you up so that you can finally start working towards your goals. You even mention to him a couple of masters programs you’re looking into after you finish. Some even as far as the other side of the country. A few of the Professors you’ve spoken with have already encouraged you greatly.

Something dark simmers in his chest at your words. It seems as though you’ve gotten a bit too confident in your abilities. Doing something as silly as going over his head and deciding things about your future that he didn’t agree to. And across the country?! There was no way. He has put in so much time and work with you, shaping you into the smart and accomplished young student you’ve become.

You couldn’t just leave him now. There was still so much work to be done. He wouldn’t be able to look out for you from so far. He couldn’t ensure your success because there was certainly no way you were achieving it on your own. You relied on him, you needed him. And he was going to remind you of that fact.

He made sure to be with you the moment exam scores hit. And when you immediately burst out into tears at the abysmal score painting your screen like a slap in the face of all your hard work, he is right there to comfort you. His arms curling around you in comfort instead of congratulations. The realization makes you sob even harder and his hand is cupping the back of your head and tucking you snugly into his neck. Letting your tears soak through his white button up shirt. When you try and lean back, insisting you’ll dirty his expensive looking shirt, he shushes you and pulls you back in. He couldn’t care less about the mess you make. In fact, he relishes in your tears. And how he’s the only one who could possibly make you feel better right now.

“Don’t mind the scores, darling. There’s always next time,” he murmurs soothingly. You’re so caught up in your grief that you hardly notice the way he pulls you into his lap, securing you safely against his body. “I-I know but the programs!” You wail in response and his hold tightens. Wishing you’d just forget about those blasted opportunities. You didn’t need them. Not when you had him.

He holds you for hours, softly rocking you on the sofa of his living room. Whispering soft praises in your ear while you cry and cry. He could hold you forever like this. So reliant on him. In such need of him. You couldn’t think for yourself, not like this. And right now, to him, you couldn’t be more perfect. He pulls you back and something wicked sparks inside of him at your whine, the way you push back as if wanting to return into his warm neck.

His smirk is clear on his face and he doesn’t bother to hide it. His eyes sparkle up at you in adoration as he brushes your hair away from your eyes. “What if your future wasn’t meant to be academic?” It was so cute the way your brows furrow, your pretty head totally empty in your confusion. “I think all of this happened to lead you back… to me. You needn’t worry about academics. All you need to be is Mine.”

Then he’s tucking you back into his chest before you can fully register what it is he’s planning for you. For your future. Your body tenses in his hold for a moment before you remember this is just what he does. He knows which paths his students should and shouldn’t take. He’s never been wrong about a student before. So how could he possibly be wrong about you?

A million thoughts are battling against each other in your head but you push all of it aside and melt back into his arms. Not wanting to admit the gigantic weight lifting off your shoulders as you start to envision the future your Professor’s molded for you. Suddenly none of it matters. Not the programs, the exams, the schoolwork, and all the stress that comes with it. All that matters is that you’re here with your Professor, just as you’re meant to be.

[levissslutt]

Warnings : 18+ MDNI smut, car sex wc : 2809

The mechanic

"Son of a bitch." You cursed under your breathe as your red convertible broke down on you again. This was the 3rd time this month, all the fucking theatrics were pissing you off.

Sinking down into the drivers seat your lip began to tremble, just a soft knock on the window made you jump.

You turned seeing a man leaning to peer into your window, but not low enough to be creepy, all you could really see was his salt and peppered beard.

"Hey- uh my shop is just across the street, I saw you break down a minute ago, you need a hand? Its going to get dark soon." He spoke through the crack in the window.

You turned slightly to see the man better. He wasn't bad looking, cute smile, caramel skin, and soft brown eyes that held sincerity. He looked almost tired. But they darted around yours, not missing a detail.

"I got my little one back in the shop, he's doing his homework, but we can stay out here tho , I don't mean no harm, just willing to give a hand." He held his hands up.

The man seemed a little older than you, but you nodded, praying to whoever was listening that this was just a genuine human being.

Stepping out of the vehicle with a huff, you shook his hand.

"Hi, I appreciate it Im Bella."

He shook it back, eyes flickering to your lips.

"Im Josh, and like I said before that's my shop right across the street, with the sign."

You sighed realizing you had barely said a word to the man.

"Im sorry, I don't mean to come off rude, its just- been a long ass day."

He let out a low breathy laugh. "Im already knowing."

"What's a young lady like yourself doing out here at this time of the night."

He watched you silently, taking in the cute pout on your full lips.

"Well I own a yoga studio in the city, but I stay just up the street in those quiet townhomes."

His face had lit up, "for real? me and my lil' man stay over there too."

"Whattt- that's crazy. Ive been over here for about four years now, but about a year ago I was in a bad wreck and Ive just been having the worst luck with replacements." Your mood lightened a bit learning of a new face in the area.

He chuckled lightly as you ranted at your dilemma.

“ Well I gotchu, lemme take a look.”

You perked up even more, "you really wouldn't mind helping me?"

He chuckled, " not at all."

He moved with confidence to the drivers side door popping up the lever for the hood, then wrapping back around to prop it open. You sat on the curb, to the left of him watching him silently. You told yourself at first you were making sure he wasn’t doing anything he wasn’t supposed to be…..that’s why you were checking him out…yea!

“So this yoga studio you own, giving you good business?” His question broke you out of your thoughts.

“Blessed ain’t even the word, if I keep hitting my monthly goals like i’ve been these past few years I might be able to open another location by the end of next year, what about you and your shop?”

He let out a low whistle, impressed. “You got a genuine vibe to you I can tell you got a good head on your shoulders, you keep up that tunnel vision, it’s up from here.”

You smiled at the older man, not expecting his compliment.

“But, contrast to you I might have to close this shop down, which sucks, however this is my 6th location in the state.”

Your head snapped up, “man what you got me beat, six locations is incredible, that’s wassup.”

He continued working with easy confidence, chucking at your comment. “Not even, this was my pops business, and I took over when he passed.”

His eyes flicked to your bare thighs as he tightened a cap, and popped the lid closed. You caught it.

“Oh wow I’m sorr- wait are you done ?”

You got up not even registering his movements until he leaned onto the hood, looking smug. “Crank it up for me ma and tell me.”

Your stomach flipped at the way he was looking at you now, not necessarily staring, but watching very closely. Taking in your work out attire and the dip in your hips. ' Damn she fine.' He thought.

Sliding into the driver seat your turned your key, the car started immediately, smoothly. Your mouth was slightly agape, as you leaned back into the seat.

The man rounded to the passenger side, grinning ear to ear. “I got the magic touch just like pops” he grinned, tapping your window.

Rounding the car he made his way to stand right in front of you now, watching you with those deep brown eyes, since he’d come to your widow from his shop you couldn’t peel your eyes away from him, the tension building with each second.

He felt it too.

Gathering yourself you tried to sound neutral, “so what now Mr. handy man you want a payment.” You should not have said that.

His eyes glossed over with something dark, it only flashed for a second, and just as fast as it came it had gone, leaving a devilish grin in its place.

“I got something in mind, Ms. yoga instructor .”

Your lips parted slightly as your breath shortened, chest rising and falling slightly faster. Taking a step towards you the man was now inches from you…watching.

“Tell me something else ma.” He drawled, eyes twinkling.

“Hmm?” You couldn’t say any actual words now or your voice would've cracked at the tension that was now brewing in the air.

“You flexible?”

The fuck

Raising an eyebrow at the man, you scoffed.

Chuckling he threw his hands up, “you asked me for a payment…..ma.”

“And to think you was just a sweet mechanic trying to help out a poor helpless girl.” You laughed, but it held no real bite, considering the way he was eye fucking you, also considering how much you were enjoying it.

His smile stretched showing, his capped canines.

‘Oh?, you hadn’t noticed those before.’

The sight only made you squeeze your legs together slightly, but he caught the movement nonetheless, smirking.

The two of you locked eyes, your breathing had hitched, and before you could think too much you slid onto the center console, inviting him into the drivers seat.

He slid in smoothly, shutting the door, with zero hesitation.

Now that he was in your car, and you were all but pressed up against his side, you really took the time to look at the man. He had grey hairs that littered his hair all the way down to his beard. Contrast to all the grey, his face held not one wrinkle, his lips were full and pink, and his eyes were small and oval, that twinkled as you eyed him.

Chuckling he rubbed his hands together, "so you gon stare me down and not come sit on my lap huh?"

His voice was lower now, dripping wit a dark undertone. "Come here girl."

Slowly you forced yourself to move. You were grown, he was grown, why the fuck were you acting so shy, cause what you really wanted to do to him was fuck him to tears.

Your legs finally moved, and straddled him in the drivers seat, his large hands came and rested on your thighs, circling his thumb in slow deliberate motions.

His eyes were locked onto you, he was already taking a chance even asking something like this of a literal stranger, but you looked so damn good it didn't make no sense.

"I know you want to ma, go head'."

"You in my head or sum Mr. Mechanic?"

"Not at all pretty girl, I just see where your eyes lingering the most."

He leaned in inches from your lips.

Without wasting another second, you reached up running your fingers through his beard. He sat back, smiling with a satisfied hum. You couldn't help but marvel at how soft it was.

His hands slid from your thighs to your waist, pressing you flat against him, lips crashing into each others. With the engine running, the only sound was, that, the engine.

He didn't let you up for a second, he engulfed you, kissing you as if you owed him- ohh wait. You did owe home.

Your hips stuttered into his as you shuddered at the chills running up your back. His hands began to roam as he tongued the inside of your mouth, fighting and immediately winning for dominance.

He pulled back for a second to you let you catch your breathe, a string of saliva falling from the connection.

"Fuck girl." His hips bucked up lightly, his hardening length creeping up your thigh.

He breathed into your cheek before peppering kisses along your jaw. His hands were traveling, now moving up your stomach to your boobs, cupping the soft mounds.

He grinned into the sloppy kiss at the fact that you didn't have a bra on.

Your heart hammered into your rib cage, you were positive he could feel it, but it didn’t stop his movements.

You had to take control of the situation because there was no way in hell you were about to let him dominate you, he was going to get fucked, not you. After all you did owe him.

Pushing yourself off of him you attempted to get in between his knees on the car floor. After pushing the seat all the way back, you had a percent view of him.

His clothes were dirty, obviously, he's a mechanic, but his skin was soft and vibrant. Regardless of the way he looked he smelt of something clean and earthy, and something slightly masculine as well.

You eyed him as your fingers curled around his waistband, pulling them low enough for his member to pop out, slapping his stomach.

'Fuckin hell'.

Your eyes didn't leave his, and he was too mesmerized to tear his away from yours. Your tongue found his tip, swirling around the swollen head.

He jerked beneath you, growling lowly at the feeling. You worked his head, until his breathing was faster, chest rising and falling. Sinking your mouth all the way onto his length, causing his breath to hitch, and his hand flew to the back of your head, guiding you.

Your eyes met his as you came up, letting him out your mouth with a 'pop.'

"You keep sucking my shit like that I might need a yoga membership."

You smirked at the man, you were nowhere near done with him yet. You took him back in your mouth, you were utterly satisfied watching his hooded eyes flutter shut at the sensation.

His breathing picked up rapidly as you bobbed your head on his length, his hips slowly began to move into your head, needing some friction. Your hands found his balls, fondling them gently in rhythm with your mouth. He was squirming now, small whimpers escaped the husky man above you.

What a beautiful sight that was, he may have had you quiet a bit ago when he first walked up to the car, but now? All you could hear was the sounds of his tip hitting the back of your throat, the sound of you swallowing him whole in your mouth.

"Fuck ma, im finna nut."

His hips were jerking into you now, his hand in your hair, a guide for his movements. Tears brimmed your eyes from the force of him hitting the back of your throat, but you didn't care. You were going to unravel this man.

Your hands moved to rest on his thighs as he continued face fucking you, his mouth agape, and brows furrowed, you watched him closely.

His eyes were glowering into yours, he couldn't believe this was actually happening.

His breaths were short and jagged, he jerked underneath you again.

"Here I go baby." He whispered. His movements didn't falter at all and without warning, he shot his load into the back of your throat, warm and thick. It was all you could do not to throw it back up on him, he knew damn well he was wrong for that, not to worry you still were not done with the mechanic.

Before he could gather himself you pushed yourself onto him, his eyes widening slightly. He watched you slide your yoga shorts down hovering just above him.

His eyes were all but twinkling at this point.

"You bout to ride my shit pretty girl?"

He didn't even try to hide the wicked grin plastered on his face.

You nodded biting your lip, taking him into your hand you slid his tip up and down your entrance coating his tip in your essence. Fuck a condom honestly. His hands were trembling on your waist from pure pleasure, you weren't going to let him up tho.

Without warning you sunk onto his length, causing his head to drop onto the back of the seat.

“Fuuckk Josh.” You hissed.

He felt so damn good, kissing all the right places you needed him too. His hands found your ass as you adjusted to his size.

You were completely naked in front of him, no way did you think this is how this interaction would go….you sitting on is dick.

His eyes fluttered as he watched you, in pure ecstasy.

“You look so damn good girl.”

He nipped at your neck and then your boobs, leaving a trail in its path. Your hips were bouncing on top of him in steady movements that made your thighs burn but you didn’t care.

You wanted to fuck this man .

Your pussy was clenching onto him as if she’d never been filled before, and honestly the way he was fucking back into you…..maybe she hadn't.

Your hands found his shoulders for stability as you snapped your hips together, the windows were fogging up and his son was long forgot about, hope that boy got a lot of homework.

He was getting ready to flip you into the back when you stopped him, running your hand up the back of his neck, your fingers curled around the end of his long mullet, grabbing a fist full of his curls, jerking his head back to look at you.

“This my shit Joshua .” You growled into the base of his ear. That cocky smirk of his gone, now replaced with an exasperated look. Begging.

You weren’t letting up on the man, the burn in your thighs only adding to the knot forming in your stomach. His hands were rested lazily on your hips as he was a whimpering mess underneath you.

All that bite he had was gone, and you had him right were you wanted.

“You want me to stop Josh?”

You peered down into his eyes as you whispered to him.

Had it not been for the fact that you were 2 centimeters away from his face, you would’ve missed it.

Tears brimmed the man’s eyes as you fucked him. Riding him in the drivers seat of your car.

“N- no ma don’t stop.”

You could barely make out his words, a hushed whimper left his lips, like he don’t want you to hear him. Fuck that.

“Let me hear you pretty boy.”

He almost couldn’t take that, letting out a string of moans, eyes rolled to the back of his head as your right hand still gripped his hair. His hips had given out as you rolled yours into him, leaving small kitten kisses on his neck.

The knot in your stomach was ready to give out just at the sight of him alone, let alone the way he pulsated inside of you.

“F-fuck me ma.”

You grinned, hips grinding into his.

Without warning his hand gripped your neck as you pounded into him, using that leverage he began snapping his own hips back into your pussy.

Sending ripples through your ass. At this point you were seeing stars. The way his hips stuttered, indicated that he was too. You fucked each other into oblivion. The edges of your vision blurred as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, him following shortly behind you.

His moans were loud, filling up the tiny space.

"Gah damn ma, I just. nutted. all. in yo shit."

He was breathless, dragging out each word like he'd just run a marathon. Your head rested on his chest eyes fluttering.

"I might break yo car again just to have you ride me like that one mo' time mama."

You grinned, too tired to move an inch, "yea right boy you wish." Voice hushed and fucked out.

He only chuckled at you, as your eyes fought to stay open.

"You just fucked me like a side piece and now you done fell asleep."

He watched you fight to keep your eyes open after that workout, but ultimately failed.

No way you just fell asleep butt ass naked in your car in the arms of a stranger, how tf was you supposed to get home.

---

When you woke your hips were deliciously sore, unable to even stretch properly. When your eyes finally fixated on the room that laid out in front of you, you were in your bed. In your house.

"How the fuck did I get here.."

pt 2 ;)

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I Know You? Part 18

Synopsis: Red Hood makes an appearance again. Jason’s sorry about it.

Note: Red Hood is back for a minute, baby. Also, just putting this out there, this is like if one of the sex-pollen fics backfired. Is there a kiss? Maybe. Is it the one you guys wanted? I guess you’ll just have to read and find out, lol. Enjoy!

Masterlist

A month later, as the days grew warmer, you finally felt like yourself. Mostly. You had nightmares on the nights Jason didn’t stay with you, which was more often than not. Apparently, while he did make his own schedule, most jobs were done at night. You thought it was weird but didn’t think any harder about it (you did think harder about it, but it made you open The JarTM and remember similarities you weren’t happy about, so you closed it all up again and ignored it).

You had decided that you liked liked Jason. He took you to the Gotham Zoo on one of the warmer days and told you all about his little brother, who loved animals. He actually told you about his family unprompted. So, you just quietly walked with him and listened. Seeing him open up to you about something that he was usually so closed off about, well, you felt delighted about it.

You wanted to tell Jason how much he meant to you, but you still had a worm in your ear telling you he was just being nice. You argued with yourself about it a lot. It had been two months since the warehouse incident (and your subsequent fight with Red Hood). If Jason was playing nice because of that, then he would have stopped by now. Unless he’s just playing with you, the worm would add. You had come to the consensus that you wouldn’t do anything unless Jason said otherwise.  

You became somewhat of an insomniac when Jason didn’t stay at your apartment, leading you to scroll on your phone in the middle of the night. It probably didn’t help, but you would at least get out of bed and do it in the kitchen, so your brain didn’t get confused about where phone time should be done. As you liked a group of posts from Steph (she had gone skiing with Tim and some other friends. Seriously, how rich were these people?) when you thought you heard something, a racketing outside.

You stop to listen but don’t hear anything else, so you go back to scrolling when you hear it again. You brush it off as some of the cats getting into a fight, but then you hear a squeak. You tense up, hand curling around your emergency alert locket on instinct. You turn and watch as Red Hood practically falls through your window. Red Hood, who you hadn’t seen since you blew up at him. Your chest squeezes.

“Red?” you ask, rounding the island but pausing at the edge of it, a mountain of emotional turmoil interjecting itself into your veins. His head snaps up to look at you, and you instantly feel like something is wrong, aside from the fact that you have no idea why he’s here. His helmet is missing, nowhere in sight. His chest heaves like he can't quite catch his breath. Even though you can't see his eyes, you can feel him staring a hole through your skin.

He doesn’t answer you. So, you take a few more cautious steps closer. His fists clench at his side as he leans against the wall next to the window. Closer, you can see his face is flushed, and you wonder if he’s sick, and if he’s sick, why would he come here? You don’t have time to ponder the question because he takes a step forward, and the rest of him follows quickly. Startled by his speed, you trip backward on your own feet and squeak as you fall, body tensing, waiting for the pain. It never comes because he’s on you as you fall, hand curling on the back of your scalp to stop you from hitting your head as you land on the ground with a shocked huff.

You stare at him hovering above you, but you don’t have time to whisper out a thank you or say anything because his lips are pressed against you, hard. Your eyes widen and remain unmoved in shock. He moves only slightly as he kisses you, head tipping this way and that. You break out of your stupor when he shifts to nip at your lip, and your hands press at his shoulders to push him off of you, unsuccessfully. Instead of pulling back, he just moves to your neck to press closed-mouth kisses there, more nuzzling your neck than anything else. You’d think it ticklish if you weren’t so confused.

“Red Hood, what are you doing?” you ask the question calmer than you expected. You should be more worried about the current events, but you genuinely think something is wrong. You don’t believe he would ever try to do something to you otherwise, despite the two months it’s been since you’ve seen him. He just hums against your skin as his free hand curls at your hip and grips hard enough to hurt.

“Red Hood, you need to stop. Something's wrong.” You can feel the warmth of his forehead against the side of your jaw. He’s burning up, feverish and sweaty. He pays you no mind, just continues his strange kisses to your skin, moving lower to the junction of your neck and shoulder. He clearly wasn’t himself. You understand now that he won't listen to you, that you'll have to stop him yourself.

Your mind goes back to two weeks ago. Jason, on a spiel about you walking home alone, said you needed to learn self-defense. He had taught you a few moves, but if there was one thing he drilled into your head, it was to always go for the balls. The idea had made you laugh at the time, in spite of how serious he looked about it, but now it made sense.

Even though Red had his face practically smashed to your neck, the rest of him hovered over you, his thick thighs straddling you. You could move your legs easily. You weren’t sure if this would do anything, especially if Red wore protection down under, but it was worth a shot. You flatten your knee, then bring it up quick and hard against his backside. He groans against your skin, but it must have been enough to knock him out of his reverie because he rolls off of you and huddles in on himself.

You scramble backwards quickly, standing, and curl your hand around the lamp on the table next to the couch. You point it at him threateningly.

“Stay,” you tell him while you try to fumble with the locket he had given you. It’s supposed to alert all the bats, so maybe somebody can pick him up and help him. He shifts, and your grip on the lamp tightens, but he doesn’t move more than to just stare at you. He’s still flushed, and his hands dig into his legs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry…” he starts, and then he’s on a roll, muttering about how he never wanted anything bad to happen to you and that he should be better. You think he gets distracted because then he talks about how pretty you look and how good you smell. You don’t notice how much he’s moved towards you until your bum is pressed to the back of the couch and his hand is curling around your calf. Both of your hands tighten on the lamp, but you don’t have the heart to use it. He just looks so distraught.

His hands climb as he talks, up the side of your thighs and hips until he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your stomach. He’s back to mumbling apologies again, but you are far too distracted (more than you’d like to admit) with the man on his knees hugging you. You're stuck staring at him, unsure of what to do, until a voice you’ve never heard before breaks you out of it.

“Am I interrupting something?” the voice is deep but gleeful. Your eyes snap to a fit man in a black and blue get-up. Red Hood’s hold tightens on your waist at the sound of him.

“Something's wrong with him.” You say it quickly, like you're trying to explain the scene he’s witnessing. You're sure it's an odd sight. The big bad Red Hood hugging your waist like his life depends on it and you, holding your lamp in a vice grip above him. The man's lip quirks briefly into a frown.

“This is so not how I wanted to meet you.” He says as he takes a step forward. Red Hood all but growls, his arms tightening enough to make you wince slightly, distracting you from asking what he meant. The man stops moving.

“Take it easy, Little Wing. You know I’m here to help.” He offers you an apologetic smile. “He had a run-in with Ivy. She’s been on a more aphrodisiac spin recently.” It takes you a minute to understand what he’s saying (mostly because you're trying to figure out who Ivy is).

“Why would he come here?” The man’s smile changes into a teasing smirk that you don’t love.

“I’m sure it's nothing to think too hard about.” You feel seriously out of the loop, and you don’t think you want to know. With someone else present, you put the lamp on the couch. Your hands settle on Red’s biceps, trying to gently pry him off of you.

“Come on. It's time for you to go with…” you pause glancing at the other man.

“Nightwing,” he offers, albeit with a scrunched brow, like you should have known that. You squint at the weird name before looking back down at Red.

“It’s time to go with Nightwing. Get you the help you need.” His arms tighten again, and it makes you squirm slightly. “You're hurting me, Red.” His arms loosen, and his face pulls away from your stomach just to prop his chin there so he can pout at you. You can’t believe you’re thankful for his stupid mask. If you could see his eyes, you’re sure it would be game over.

“I can’t help you,” you explain to him, unthinkingly running your fingers through the top of his hair. He shudders and sighs. You decide you're not helping your case, so you pull your hand away.

“Nightwing and whoever else can help you to feel better, right?” You glance over at Nightwing, who is awkwardly looking to the side.  After a moment of silence, he finally looks back at you, realizing you were talking to him.

“Oh, yea. Red Robin and Oracle already have an antidote ready. Just need to get him back to the cave,” he says. You decide you really need to look into the vigilantes of Gotham because you have no idea who these people are. You turn your attention back to Red Hood.

“See. They can help, I can’t,” He grumbles and buries his face back into your stomach. You sigh, already feeling like you're arguing with a toddler, but then he lets go, slow and lethargic. He stands and nearly collapses. Nightwing is quick to catch him, and you feel incredibly useless.

“Sorry about this,” Nightwing tells you, giving a blinding apologetic smile before he’s cramming Red Hood out your window with less finesse than you anticipated, although you think Red Hood fought him the entire time.

****

It’s only after you have locked your window and sat on your couch that it comes to your attention that you were not as freaked out about what just happened as you should be. Red Hood had forced himself on you (respectfully, somehow) but he hadn’t groped you, hadn’t humped against you like a mad dog. The worst he did was kiss you, held your hip a little too firm, and hugged you.

You bring a hand to your lips, tracing them. You hadn’t been kissed in years. If you had been prepared, you think it might’ve been nice. You snap yourself out of your thoughts. You liked Jason. You and him… weren’t dating, per se. You think about kissing him far more than you should. You think about The JarTM in your mind and blame it for why you’re thinking about how nice it was when Red kissed you. This is stupid, you decide, you missed Red Hood but not for kissing reasons.

Seeing him and then him being gone again, your emotions come back. You sag on your couch, preparing to nitpick your mind. You were mad at him again, not that it ever stopped. It had been covered up by the sadness of missing him. First, He got you kidnapped, and you still haven’t forgiven him for that. Second, he never tried to talk to you again (you ignore the fact that you told him to never come back because that clearly did not stop him). And thirdly, he kissed you, unconsented, and, if you hadn’t pressed that button, probably would have done something else (yes, he was drugged. You understand that, but he could at least have said something, or better yet gone somewhere else. Why did he come to you?).

You settle on just being peeved with him and keeping a mental list of complaints to tell him all about the next time you see him. The next time you're kidnapped, or he’s drugged probably, you think. A pointlessly petty thought but whatever. You did not get any more sleep that night.

****

A day later, Jason showed up at your door without warning. He would usually send you a text that he was coming over, but you got nothing. You wouldn’t have even checked who was knocking at your door if you didn’t recognize the way he knocked. You think he may have been sick because when you open the door, he’s sagged against the frame of it. He looks pale, exhausted, and guilty for some reason, weary eyes watching you.

“Are you okay?” is the first thing that leaves your lips. His own quirks, like he finds the question funny.

“Are you?” he asks in return with hint of earnest in knowing the answer. You shrug.

“I’m not the one who looks like the walking dead.” You mean it as a joke, but his lips press into frown and wonder how that could upset him.

You don’t have an opportunity to ask him because the door across the hall creeps open just an inch or so. You spot the brown eyes of your new neighbor. She was an older Italian woman who spoke just enough English to get by. She was sweet, in that old lady sense. A little nosy though, she reminded you of Darla just a bit in that sense.

“Ciao,” you say, the extent of your Italian knowledge, waving at her as you gently tug Jason into your apartment and close the door. He sags against the kitchen counter.

“You know Italian?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you answer as you nudge into his space as he so often does with you and press your hand to his forehead. His eyes close for a moment before he’s blinking at you.

“What’re you doing?” the question almost sounds accusatory, and you start to pull your hand away but his wraps around your wrist, pressing your palm to his cheek (Jason nearly started kissing up on your hand and wrist, leftover side effects of ivy’s new treat, but he managed to control himself).

He sighs into your palm, and you think it’s a new sound that you’ve heard before just not from Jason. The JarTM rattled louder than it had in months. It stuns you enough that your hand twitches, fingers curling slightly against his face. Damn Red Hood, you think, he just had to show up and mess up the way you think. Jason was not Red Hood; it’s a stupid connection that makes no sense. You mentally shove the stupid jar back into its corner (you may have been dissecting yourself in the past month but that would not be a part of that process) because Jason is staring at you, and you find his eyes are greener than usual, nearly sickly.

He still looked exhausted, still looked pale, but he hadn’t felt warmer than he usually did. He did have that stupid look in his eye (stupid because you can’t figure out what it is) as he stares at you. You suddenly remember that he asked you a question.

“You don’t look good,” you say quietly as your thumb rubs against his cheek where he holds your hand. He sags even more and your worry he might collapse in the kitchen if it weren’t for the little smirk that shows itself.

“You always sound so sweet when you insult me, sweetheart.” The heat of his breath skims across the inside of your wrist. You can feel the movement of his lips at the joint there. It throws you off enough to have you tugging your hand out of his hold.

 It’s not that you felt uncomfortable; you know that you and Jason thrive off of physical touch, but you were usually the one that initiated the more… intimate moments. Jason was prone to just tucking your hair, giving you hugs, and pressing a kiss to your temple. You were the one that would drag him into bed or on the couch to cuddle. He liked to stand close to you, but you were the one that would curl your fingers together, not him. Things that bordered the line of platonic and less so.

This moment in the kitchen with his eyes staring into your soul and his lips nearly pressed to the sensitive skin of your wrist has your heart in your throat because, for some bizarre reason, it felt like the least platonic thing that has ever happened to you (despite him having literally bathed you in your underwear).

“I mean you look sick,” your words come out in choked stutter that has an embarrassed warmth spreading up your neck, “and you should lay down.”

You step out of his space because you need air. His body leans forward, following you, enough that you worry he’s going to fall. You steel yourself and get rid of whatever swirl of butterflies Jason always gives you. He had spent nearly two months taking care of you in his own ways. It was your turn to take care of him.

“Couch or bed?”  you ask and his face makes a weird crinkle before he’s full-on smirking at you.

“If you wanted to seduce, babe, you could’ve just said something,” he says.

You sputter, skin growing warmer by the second, “I’m not- that isn’t- shut up and answer the question.”

“That doesn’t work, sweetheart. Either you want me to shut up or you want me to answer the question. I can’t do both.” He teases and you don’t know what to do with yourself.

****

Okay, so, maybe the family was right. Maybe he should have waited another day before coming to see you. Barbara, Tim, and Bruce told him at separate times that Ivy’s newest pollen would still have lasting effects and that, because he had already gone to you before, if he saw you again those side effects might get stronger before they went away. He felt fine when he left (snuck out of) the manor. He didn’t have a fever anymore, didn’t feel like he was going to claw out of his own skin. He was fine and he wanted to see you (less desperate than the night before but still a little desperate).

Then he saw you and you touched him, and he nearly felt like he was on fire. His hands and mouth moving of their own accord. He could tell how surprised you were by it but watching you sputter was doing something to him. Part of him, the more sensible part, was worried, of course, that he was making you uncomfortable (part of the reason he had wanted to see you was because he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t revert back to hermit mode after what he tried to do the night before as Red Hood). However, you hadn’t stepped very far away from him. If Jason wanted to, he could easily wrap his hand around your arm and pull you back into his space.

He didn’t. Instead, he stared at you. You really were pretty, even in your embarrassed state. You hadn’t gone to work today. He could tell because it was 2 in the afternoon, and you were still in pajamas. It made him want to kiss you again. Last night, he had been out of control, most of his urges taking over before he could stop them. Today it would be different, he could stop himself from acting out. He still wanted to kiss you.

You seem so unsure of yourself that he decides to reign it in. You were offering your bed and hopefully that included you in it. He felt exhausted suddenly. The ride to your apartment he had so alert with the fact that he was going to see you but now with you in front of him, close enough that he could smell your shampoo, his energy was gone.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he pushes every ounce of remorse into those two words, especially after he had forced himself on you last night, “I am sick, and I’d like to lay in bed with you if I haven’t scared you off.” Your flustered features relax, and you smile at him sweetly. It nearly killed him how much he wanted to drag you close to his body.

“You don’t scare me, Jay,” you say oh so sugary. Oh my god, he’s going to die, “If anything you make me feel safe.” You point a finger and poke at his stomach. His hand curls around your wrist again, more light, more delicate. Despite all of Jason urges to kiss you (and do a bunch of other things that he’s tucked away in a deep dark hole), they all pause to appreciate what you’ve just said.

He made you feel safe. It surprised him honestly. Jason had been playing hero since he was 12 years old. He had done nothing but try to save people or make life better for people as Robin (which backfired in his face, literally) and then as Red Hood. But here you were, giving him a shy look after your admittance, saying that Jason made you feel safe. Not Robin. Not Red Hood. Jason.

Jason Todd was a ghost in all sense of the word. Technically, Bruce had made him legally alive again and kept it quiet. There was no media story about the second son of Bruce Wayne no longer being dead and he was okay with that. He never liked the flashy life Bruce lived outside of the Bat and it’s not like they were always on good terms. Even both actually and legally alive Jason Todd was still a ghost. He haunted the streets of Gotham City, haunted the halls of Wayne Manor. He wasn’t a real person.

 He was Red Hood. Didn’t have a life outside of it. Focused on saving people, helping people in Gotham and all across the world. until you. You with your queries about his books at the coffee shop (the only guilty pleasure he had). You with your nervous habits. You with your sweet smiles. You changed everything. He hadn’t gone out and around Gotham as Jason Todd since he came back from the dead. He didn’t realize how much of a tourist he was in his own city until he was taking you out. It didn’t matter though, because he wasn’t haunting these places. He was with you. He was alive.

He tuned out his thoughts to focus back on you. You looked worried doing that odd shift on your feet you do. He lets one urge go through and wraps his arms around your shoulder to pull you into a hug, nosing at your hair. A squeak escapes you, but you settle against him, hands moving up and down his back in a soothing manner.

“I lo-” Jason stops himself choking on his own words. His hands tighten slightly as he tries to regain control of his mouth.

“You mean the world to me, sweetheart.”

“You mean the world to me too, Jay.” Your voice is muffled against his shoulder but it’s the clearest thing he’s ever heard.

Jason keeps you there for much longer than necessary, just holding you, until that exhaustion from early creeps into his knees and he’s not sure he can stand much longer. He finally speaks up.

“I’d like to lay in bed. With you if that’s okay?” You pull back to look at him. Your hand comes up to hold his cheek, thumb caressing the scar there. It used to bother him, and it still does when other people stare, but you’re always so soft and sweet about it.

“Course it is, handsome. Whatever you need.” You say softly and a dumb smug feeling erupts in his chest. You only ever call him Jason, Jay, or, within the last week or so, bubs. He’s got a plethora of pet names for you but for you to reach out for something so pleasant… oh, you’ve ruined him.

****

You try to quickly usher Jason to your room because when you had pulled away, you thought he looked even paler than before. You shuffle into your bed and drag him with you settling against the pillows. You think he would be content with how you usually sleep, your cheek pressed to his shoulder, but he tosses and turns for what feels like thirty minutes. You finally sit up with a huff.

“Jason, what do you need?” he gives you a kicked puppy look, and you instantly feel guilty for how irritated you sounded.

“Sorry. You keep moving. How can I help?” He sits up next to you and gestures vaguely at you.

“Can I?” The gesturing and the question tell you nothing, but you trust Jason, so you nod. He gently pushes you down on your back and manhandles you to the middle of the bed. Then he’s hovering over you, legs tangled. You stare up at him, and you hate how your mind thinks of Red Hood. But Jason isn’t even staring at your lips. He’s concentrated on moving around some more. He pauses and meets your eye.

“Is this okay?” you nod because you can't find your voice, because you don’t actually know what he’s doing, because you're pretty sure you would let Jason do just about anything to you and wouldn’t mind. His arm sides under you, making your back arch. You wonder if Jason is putting you in an inherently sexual position on purpose or if you’re just aroused for some reason.

You get your answer (your just horny) when Jason finally lies done on top of you, you huff quietly, not prepared for it. He tucks his head under your chin, wiggles there a moment before finally settling down. You bring your hands up to settle on his back, one curling into the hair at the nape of his neck and he melts against you. It nearly makes giggle if not for the way he instantly becomes a dead weight on top of you, breathe evening. Thirty minutes of him rolling around and he’s out the moment he’s on top of you. Unbelievable.

You weren’t tired but his warmth and weight makes you drowsy. You try to fight, running your fingers through his hair. You give in eventually. Your sleep schedule was already shot. What’s an afternoon nap going to do?

Additional note: There was so much happening in this chapter, its crazy. also shout out to MagandaJinx on Ao3 for giving me the idea of the little old woman neighbor, she will be showing back up later. Anyways, I feel like I went off the rails with this chapter, so please give me some critics if you would like.

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant, @alma-ru3, @13fresh

[lookingforuravity]

CHAPTER 2: TAKE MY HEAD AND DRIVE ME HEAD-FIRST

now playing ♫ fearless by taylor swift

word count: 1,297 words

a/n: this was uploaded before but i posted it by accident without realizing hours later then panic-deleted it

series masterlist | prev chap. | next chap.

The regret immediately seeped into my chest when I accepted Mina's request. Like I said before, parties weren't my thing. They've never appealed to me, especially on Fridays. Fridays were for my weekly ‘Bridget Jones’ series binge watching. Breaking my weekly ritual practically felt like a sin.

I stood in a corner, people-watching as I rested the red solo cup on my lips. The loud music thumped the ground so violently it was making my head hurt.

The room was filled with somewhat familiar faces but it didn't calm my nerves down any less. I still nervously bit the rim of my cup and aggressively played with charm on my necklace.

“Y/N!” Mina’s shout snapped me out of my thoughts, her hands on my shoulders. Her freshly dyed pink hair bounced up and down as she jumped to the music. “Why are you just sulking over here? Come have fun!”

I chuckled dryly as I took a sip of the only liquid I could find that wasn't alcohol. “I'm fine here, Mina. I'll just wait until you're done so I can drive you home.” I told her.

Mina pouted and trailed her hands down to my wrists, playfully swinging my arms around as she started to drag me away from the comfort of the random corner I found. “Don't be such a party pooper! I took you here so you can meet people and put yourself out there!” She whined, dancing along with the music as she pulled me away into the crowd.

“I'm fine over here, honestly—”

“No!” She cut me off abruptly, placing a finger on my lips to silence me. “You're gonna have fun and you're gonna like it!”

The vibrations of the music pumped through my whole body. As I glanced around the room, I was able to see more of the people that attended the parties. I could've talked around while Mina was doing God knows what, I went to school with everyone here. There's a high chance I have stuff in common with them, but I'm too awkward to start a conversation. I'll run out of words to say then eventually find a dumb excuse to stop talking and walk away.

Now that I think of it, that's probably why I never dated anybody…

“Guys, this is my friend! Say hi, y/n!” I heard Mina say which instantly made me snap out of my thoughts. I was met with the gaze of who I assumed were Mina's close friends.

I recognized most of them. I'm friends with Ochaco, but I knew of Izuku, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, and—

Bakugou.

I knew him. Of course I did, who didn't? He made a pretty rash reputation of himself for being rude and stuck up. We had some mutual friends, like Mina and Ochaco, but either than that I never really felt a need to speak to him.

But if Mina wants me to be friends with her friends, I guess I could try.

Even if it's insanely awkward.

Bakugou doesn't even know how he ended up at this party. He'd much rather be at home than hanging out with these brainless, drunk idiots. The stench of liquor and sweat filled his nostrils, causing his face to look more disgusted than it already does. The only reason he even showed up was so Mina and Kirishima would stop nagging at him.

But now, standing in front of this cute girl, he didn't regret showing up one bit.

“Heyyy Y/n! Nice to meet ya!” Denki slurred, throwing an arm over her shoulder as he could barely keep his balance.

Bakugou rolled his eyes at his drunken state and could barely hold back a scoff as the rest of the group introduced drunkenly introduced themselves.

“Nice to meet you too..” Her voice was barely audible over the loud music, the only way he was able to make out what she was saying was by reading her lips.

She wasn't what Bakugou was expecting at all. Mina spoke of Y/n in the past, describing her as this outgoing, soft-hearted girl who loved talking about things she liked.

But all he was seeing in front of her was a pretty girl who looked like she wanted to get out of this place.

Before anyone could say anything else, someone shouted from the balcony—

“Shots everyone!”

And everyone ran out the house.

The rest of their friends quickly rush past Y/n, leaving only her and Bakugou behind. She awkwardly shifted the weight between her feet, playing with her cup as she avoided eye contact.

“Hey.” He called out.

Her eyes widened and shot up to look at him. “Uh.. Hi.”

“Bakugou” He stuck out his hand, waiting for her to shake it, which was weird and out-of-character for him. He was never the type of person to be friendly towards someone he just met, hell he wasn't even the type of person to be friendly at all.

She softly smiled at him and took his hand. “I know who you are. I'm Y/n.”

Bakugou continued shaking her hand. It was soft, much softer than he expected it to be.

He dropped her hand and awkwardly cleared his throat, leaning up against the wall as he eyed her up and down. “Don't talk to you much, but you don't seem like the party type, huh?”

She shrugged, still shifting her weight side to side as she had a tight lipped smile on her face. “Not necessarily… I'm only here cause Mina asked me to come.”

“That so?” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

She nodded then walked up next to him to lean up against the wall as well. “Yeah.. What about you?” She asked, her head slightly tilting to the side in question. “I don't think you're the party type either.”

“Just came to stop Kirishima from bitching is all”

She snorted, and for some reason the sound put a pressure in Bakugou's chest. Her hand quickly coming up to her face to cover her mouth as she laughed silently.

A couple of seconds went by where the two didn't say anything. But it wasn't uncomfortable. Just quiet.

“That's all?” He questioned, asking if that was the only reason she showed up to the party.

“Hm.. I don't know. I thought something interesting was gonna happen.”

He turned his head to look at her, slightly intrigued by her admission. “Hm… like what exactly?”

“I don't know. Someone cool, maybe? You get what I'm saying”

His smirk grew as he leaned over slightly. She's pretty AND looking for a relationship? Bakugou was sure he hit the jackpot tonight. “Yeah I get it. What? I'm not cool enough for you?”

“Huh?”

Okay… maybe that hint wasn't very obvious. But surely she was just playing hard to get, right?

“Nothin..” He muttered, his smirk slightly faltering but still stitched upon his face.

“Do you think I'll meet a cute boy here?”

…

She had to be kidding.

Did she really not notice that he'd been flirting with her this whole time?

He squinted his eyes as he studied her face. Nope, she was a hundred percent serious. She did not get any of his hints.

Is this girl really that dense?

“If you open your eyes a bit more, maybe.” He gruffed, chugging down his drink and glancing off to the side.

“Huh?”

Sure, Y/n was a bit dense. But she had Bakugou immensely intrigued.

TAGLIST [35/50]: @ditsyngel @shibuyablonde @lotusstarr @katsulina @wonubby @kalulakunundrum @tamishadawn @bangersplusmash @erenjaegerswifeee @r9yri @aa-soo @shewki @rednicotine @jaguarthecat @katsuisbaby @snoozebun @h0ngh0ngh0ng @megumismyhusband @jazoewazoe @ac333s @ikissfade @icey-wonders @bakunianadecorazon @marvel-z0mbie @tjbfingfh @d4rlinxs @bokutosmeatythigh @harryzcherry @holobean @grim-reapers-wife @ahahadumbo @qyuin @happinessisabutterflie @bluepartywobblernickel @eternallyshifting

©LOOKINGFORURAVITY 2025 | please do not copy, translate, or repost my work onto other platforms!

[day-dreamed]

eye of the storm

melissa schemmenti x f!reader

summary: when you start to overwork yourself, melissa worries.

tags: food, cuddling, pet names (hon), mel being the best gf in the world and taking care of u <333

word count: 862

author’s note: inspired by real life as i am currently working two part time jobs!!! wish i had mel to take care of me :'(((

“Hon, you need to slow down.” 

You huff as you set your stuff down on the counter. “Mel, I’m fine. I haven’t even worked that many hours this week.” 

She lets out a scoff. “Oh, really? Then why haven’t you had a single day off? And each day you’re gettin’ home at nine o’clock. I’ve barely spent any time with you.”

“You’re overexaggerating things,” you say.

Melissa steps in front of you, cutting off your path to the sink. She sets her hands and your shoulders, her thumbs brushing softly at the skin of your collarbone that’s not covered by your shirt. “Can you look at me?” 

“Melissa—”

“Please, look at me.” 

When you’re finally able to muster up the courage to meet her gaze, you almost break. “I’m fine,” you tell her, voice cracking.

Her eyes narrow, lips curved into a frown. “You’re taking the day off tomorrow,” she says, and you know by the tone of her voice that there’s no use in arguing with her. “And so am I. I’ll cook you all of your favorites.” 

Warmth fills your chest at her words. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you whisper. 

“I always forget how much of a sap you are,” Melissa says, chuckling. 

You lean forward and give her a chaste kiss. “Only for you,” you mumble against her lips.

The next morning, you don’t wake up until it’s close to eleven o’clock. Your eyes flutter open to the feeling of Melissa kissing every inch of your face that she can. A giggle bubbles out of you. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask, voice groggy with sleep. 

“What’s it look like I’m doin’?” she responds. “C’mere.” 

Her arms open and you snuggle into them, pressing your face into the crook of her shoulder. She presses a gentle kiss to your temple and rests her chin on your forehead, rubbing her hands across your back in soothing circles.

“You hungry for breakfast?” Mel asks softly. 

“What’s on the menu?”

“Chocolate chip pancakes,” she says, a smile in her voice. The sound of your stomach growling in response makes her laugh. “So that’s a yes, then.” 

Only when it reaches noon do the two of you begrudgingly get out of bed. The second the cold air hits your bare skin you grab one of Melissa’s oversized sweatshirts and toss it on. Once you’ve brushed your teeth and done the most minimal skin care routine, you pad down the stairs and meet her in the kitchen. You hop onto a stool at the island and admire the way she moves effortlessly, like she could do it with her eyes closed.

“You’re amazing, do you know that?” 

Melissa rolls her eyes playfully, cheeks tinged pink. “Quit it.” 

“No, I’m serious. I feel like I don’t tell you enough. And what you’re doing today… You don’t have to take care of me, like I’m another chore to cross off your list, but—”

She pauses in her movements. “Is that what you think? That I’m doing this ‘cause I have to?”  

Your eyes widen. “No, I—I didn’t mean—”

“Well, I’m not,” Mel huffs.

You sigh. “I know that.” 

Melissa sets a stack of pancakes in front of you, and a comfortable silence settles as the two of you start to eat. Once you finish, you set your utensils down and push the plate away. 

“Mel, I—”

“I know,” she says softly. “Hey, how ‘bout I do the dishes while you sit down and pick a movie we can watch?” 

You frown. “I can help—”

“Nope, nuh-uh,” she shakes her head. “You go sit.” 

You gaze at her fondly for a moment before making your way into the living room. After grabbing a blanket and the remote you settle onto the couch, turning the TV on. You’re still browsing through titles when Melissa walks in and sits next to you, curling into your side and resting her cheek on your shoulder. 

“Pick anything yet?” 

“Nope,” you hum.

She hums. “What about that one you were talkin’ about last week? With what’s-his-name?”

You laugh softly. “Timothée Chalamet? We could, but it still costs like twenty five bucks. I can wait until it’s cheaper—”

“Just get it.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask, eyebrows raised. Melissa nods, and you beam at her. “You’re the best.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she grins.

Two and a half hours later, the credits start to roll. When Mel sits up to stretch out her arms and legs, you frown at the absence of her warmth. “Where’re you going?” 

“To make baked ziti.”

“Have I told you I loved you?” you grin.

She shakes her head in mock exasperation and heads back into the kitchen to start dinner. You get up from your seat to follow her, wrapping your arms around her waist as she stands at the stove. 

“Thank you,” you whisper into her ear, your chin resting on her shoulder. 

“For what?” Mel asks.

You press a kiss to her cheek. “For being you.” 

She leans into you slightly. “I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?” 

“Yeah,” you hum, a smile curving your lips. “I know.”

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Slash tit sucking comfort fluff?

this sentence would kill a Victorian child

A/n: if the things you say/do don’t kill Victorian children what are you even doing?

Warnings: slight smut, tit sucking, mostly fluff, if you think i missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You hadn’t been dating Slash all that long, a few months and it was mostly because he needed a place to stay. Guns had just gotten signed and we’re working on their first record.

The house they were stuck in was annoying, the band was annoying. Always playing was fun but Slash needed something, a break, a leave. It was too much socializing for him. When you called and said you were coming over he almost yelled at you. Almost.

Slash wasn’t a yeller, he wasn’t one for argument’s, and this wasn’t that big of a deal. You were his girlfriend coming over to see him because he’d been away for a while. He had to be nice, you were nice, he liked you.

He wasn’t the one to greet you when you got there, and it was immediately a mess. Duff opened the door and was high, the house smelled of weed. He welcomed you in and told you Slash was locked away in his room and wasn’t taking any visitors but that you could go see him.

You were hesitant at that, if he didn’t want to see anyone you wanted to give him space, but you also wanted to see him, so you found his room by following the guitar. He was just playing his favourite songs, songs his dads friends showed him, each had a special story to him that he would tell you while you helped him sober up after a long night of partying.

“Slash?” You asked, knocking on the door. “Saul, can I come in?” The playing stopped and was followed by silence. You thought about just leaving now but then he spoke up.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He sounded tired, you really didn’t want to go in, he was having a hard time and you didn’t want to make it worse by bothering him. Still, you pushed the door open and walked in, closing it behind you. “Lock it.” He said, you listened.

The door clicked and you went over to him on the bed. There were two twin sized beds and a pullout set up, Slash was on the bed in the corner with his guitar in his lap and a cigarette between his lips.

You went over to him and sat down slowly, looking around nervously, feeling your skin crawl with bedbugs already. “Isn’t it pretty?” He asked humourlessly.

“It’s… something.” You said, smiling softly at him. He didn’t seem to be in the mood. “Tired?” You asked, reaching to brush his hair out of his face. He pulled away at first but relaxed, there wasn’t a reason to pull away, he had to remind himself to be nice. “It’s ok if you’re tired, Saul.” You assured, moving closer to him.

He let sighed softly and shrugged. “I’m not tired, I’m just done.” He grumbled, taking the end of the bud from his lips and stamping it out on the nightstand. “I don’t want to be here anymore, I thought being signed was gonna be big and cool, right now it’s just… it’s driving me fucking insane.” You nodded in understanding, listening intently as he complained.

Slash wasn’t much of a talker but you kept pushing his hair aside, the way you leaned in and kissed his temple. It was warm and comforting, the door was locked and it was safe with you, you weren’t in the band, you weren’t in on the record, you were here for him. He could talk to you, at least a little.

His guitar was set aside, the amp turned off. You kept playing with his hair as he laid his head on your lap. When you came you were expecting sex because, well, it’s Slash, but being here you were fine just letting him talk; although, that was dying down and he was staring at your chest.

“Axl, you know, he’s been held up in his room for, like, a week…” He mumbled, hand rubbing on your side.

“Saul,” you started, “do you want something?” You asked, smiling softly down at him.

He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m tired.” He said, hand sliding down to your hip, slipping under your shirt.

You thought about it, still just playing with his hair. “You know, sucking on things is calming, it’s why we give babies pacifiers, right?” You said, letting him lift your shirt up.

“And tits…” He mumbled, finishing your thought.

You chuckled and nodded. “Saul, do you want something?” You asked again. He reached around you and unclipped your bra, you adjusted to be laying down more, letting him get comfortable and suck on your nipple.

You checked the door occasionally, knowing it was locked but still panicking when you heard footsteps. You cradled his head in your arms, he seemed content. When you got there he was tense and angry, now he was muttering sweet things and falling asleep in your arms.

“Little weirdo.” You teased, noticing him falling asleep. Maybe you’d have to come by more frequently.

[finchyclarkemd]

Shielded Hearts

~Angst/fluff~

George had always loved the way you were so quietly observant, your eyes catching details that others missed, your presence calm and gentle. But tonight, as the laughter and chatter of his friends filled the air, he noticed something different about you. You weren’t speaking as much, your usual easy smile replaced by a tight-lipped expression. Every time someone raised their voice or made a joke, you flinched slightly. He couldn’t quite figure out what was going on, but it made him uneasy.

He leaned in closer as the evening wore on, his gaze flicking between you and his friends, noticing how your shoulders stiffened whenever the conversation turned louder, or when his friend Harry, with his booming laugh, cracked one of his signature jokes. The change in you was subtle, but George knew you too well. You were starting to withdraw.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked quietly, his hand brushing against yours under the table. 

You gave him a soft smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you murmured, but George could tell there was something more, something you weren’t saying.

Later, as the night wound down and everyone began to leave, George walked you to the door, concern etched on his face. 

“Listen,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I get overwhelmed sometimes, when there’s too much going on, too many voices, too much energy. It’s hard for me to process everything at once.”

George paused, a sudden understanding dawning on him. You were a highly sensitive person. He’d heard of it before, but hearing it from you made it real in a way he hadn’t expected. 

“I didn’t know,” he admitted, his tone soft with regret. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head, reaching out to touch his arm. “It’s not your fault, George. It’s just how I am. I don’t want you to think that I don’t enjoy being with you or your friends. I just... need some space when it gets too much.”

He looked at you, his heart swelling with a mix of affection and guilt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise. I’ll make sure to take care of you from now on. If you need a break, just say the word. I don’t want you to feel this way, ever.”

The tenderness in his voice, the way his gaze softened with concern, made you feel understood in a way you hadn’t anticipated. But George wasn’t done yet. He took a step closer, his hands gently cupping your face as if to assure himself that you were really there, really okay. “If anyone makes you feel uncomfortable again, I’ll make sure they know not to. No one messes with you, not on my watch.”

You blinked, surprised at the sudden intensity of his protectiveness, but the warmth in his touch made you feel safer than you had in a long time. Maybe it wasn’t just about explaining yourself. Maybe, for the first time, you were truly seen.

The night air outside was cool, a soft breeze rustling the leaves overhead as George held you close, his arms a comforting weight around your shoulders. The warmth of his embrace felt like a shield against the overwhelming chaos that had surrounded you only moments before. You could feel the steadiness in him, a quiet strength that helped ground you. 

“I’ve always loved how much you care about your friends,” you said, your voice steady but still carrying a hint of vulnerability. “It’s just… sometimes I get lost in the noise of it all. And I don’t always know how to get out of it without feeling like I’m letting everyone down.”

George’s fingers gently traced along your arm, a simple gesture that was more soothing than words could express. “You never have to worry about that with me,” he said softly, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re never a burden. I’ll always take care of you, okay? No matter what.” He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. When he found none, his face softened, and a tender smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

"I want to be the one who makes you feel safe, especially when you’re feeling like this," he continued, his tone low and earnest. "If we ever go to something like that again, we’ll leave whenever you want. Or we won’t even go in the first place. It’s all about you, baby. What makes you comfortable."

You felt your heart swell, not just with affection, but with a deep sense of gratitude. It wasn’t just the reassurance, or the way his voice had grown more protective with each word—it was the sincerity in his eyes. George wasn’t just trying to fix the situation, he was trying to understand it. For the first time, you didn’t feel like you were asking too much. He truly wanted to be there for you, no matter what.

“I don’t want to ruin your nights with your friends,” you said, biting your lip nervously. “You enjoy those hangouts so much. I don’t want to be the reason you miss out on anything.”

“Hey.” George’s hands cupped your face again, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “It’s never a ruin when I’m with you. And trust me, my friends will understand. They want you to feel comfortable, too. If anything, I think they’ll respect that you told me how you feel.” He paused, his gaze softening. “You’re my priority. You come first.”

The sincerity in his words made your chest tighten with emotion. The weight of the evening, the pressure you’d been carrying around for so long, seemed to lift with every passing second as George held you. You wanted to say something, something that would fully express how much his understanding meant to you, but words seemed too small in that moment. Instead, you leaned in, your forehead resting against his, and closed your eyes, letting the silence between you speak louder than anything else.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The only sound was the gentle rhythm of your breaths, the quiet night around you, and the reassuring presence of someone who truly saw you—someone who cared more about your peace of mind than anything else. 

“I’m really lucky to have you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

George chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “No, I’m the lucky one,” he replied, pulling you closer. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re too much. You’re perfect exactly the way you are. I’ll always be here for you—quiet, loud, overwhelmed, or calm. No matter what.” 

You smiled against him, feeling the truth in his words settle deep inside you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could truly breathe, like there was nothing to hide, and everything to be shared. You knew that whatever came next, you and George would face it together.

The quiet between you lingered, a peaceful comfort settling over you both. George held you a little tighter, as if he never wanted to let go. The warmth of his embrace wrapped around you like a safe cocoon, and for once, the weight of the world outside seemed so far away. 

After a few moments, George gently pulled back, his hands still resting on your shoulders, his expression soft but searching. “So, how about we get out of here for a bit? Take a walk? Or… if you’re up for it, we can just head home. I know it’s been a lot.”

You smiled, grateful for his sensitivity, and nodded. “A walk sounds nice. Maybe we can just… talk? No loud voices, no jokes, just the two of us.”

“Just us,” George agreed, his eyes lighting up at the idea. He took your hand, his fingers weaving between yours, and led you down the steps of his apartment building and out into the cool night air. 

The streets were quiet, the usual hum of traffic muted by the late hour. You walked side by side in a comfortable silence, only the occasional soft murmur of your footsteps breaking the stillness. George kept his pace steady, making sure to stay close, his body turned toward you in a way that said he was fully present, fully there for you.

You couldn’t help but steal glances at him as you walked, noticing how his expression had softened. There was something different about him now—something protective, but also understanding in the gentlest way. It was like he’d unlocked a new level of care for you, one that wasn’t about trying to fix or change anything, but simply accepting and supporting.

“How are you feeling now?” George asked after a few minutes, his voice gentle but filled with concern. “Are you still overwhelmed, or… are you okay?”

You took a deep breath, appreciating how he didn’t rush you for an answer, how he gave you the space to feel whatever you needed to feel. “Better,” you said with a soft smile, your fingers squeezing his. “I think it just helps being away from all the noise. I can focus on you. And right now, that’s enough.”

George smiled too, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he glanced down at you. “Good,” he murmured. “I’m glad. You deserve peace. You deserve to be heard.”

There was a pause, and then you spoke again, your voice small but steady. “I’ve never really been able to talk about this before. About how things overwhelm me so easily. It’s hard to explain to people, because it feels like they don’t always get it. But with you… I don’t have to hide it.”

George’s expression softened even more, his hand brushing the back of your arm in a tender, reassuring gesture. “You don’t ever have to hide anything with me. I’m not going anywhere. You can tell me everything, and I’ll be here, no matter what.” 

You felt your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world felt impossibly small—just the two of you, walking through the streets, talking about things you’d never thought you’d be able to share. 

George stopped walking then, turning to face you, his gaze serious and full of love. “If you ever need more space—whether it’s from me, or my friends, or anything else—I want you to feel safe enough to ask. I know it’s hard for you to say sometimes, but I’ll always listen. You’re not a burden. You never will be.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away quickly, not wanting to start crying in the middle of the street, but the emotion surged within you anyway. For so long, you had carried this weight alone—trying to manage your sensitivity, your need for quiet, without ever truly explaining it to anyone. But with George, everything felt different. He didn’t just accept you; he cherished the parts of you that you thought were too much, too complicated.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

George stepped closer, his hand gently cupping your face. “You didn’t have to do anything. I just love you. All of you. Even the parts that feel too much sometimes.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped. “And I’m so glad you trust me enough to share this with me. That means everything.”

A quiet, heartfelt smile spread across your face. And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly seen—not just for your strengths, but for your vulnerabilities. You weren’t just loved despite your sensitivities—you were loved because of them. And in George’s arms, you knew that you could be exactly who you were, and that would always be enough. 

With a final squeeze of your hand, George leaned in and kissed you softly, as if to seal the promise. “Let’s just take it one step at a time. No rush. I’m right here.”

You nodded, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace. No matter what happened next, you knew you weren’t alone anymore.

A few weeks later, George invited you out again with his friends. This time, you were feeling more prepared. You had talked to George a few times since that night, and he had reassured you that he would make sure you felt comfortable. But as the evening drew closer, you felt the familiar twinge of anxiety creeping in. 

When the two of you arrived at the restaurant, the buzz of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses instantly overwhelmed you. It wasn’t just the noise; it was the energy in the room—the people, the jokes, the quick-paced exchanges. You could already feel your body tightening, your mind racing to process it all. 

George immediately noticed the shift in you. His hand found yours as soon as you stepped inside, his fingers wrapping around yours in a gentle, possessive grip. You gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice low and soft, barely audible over the chatter. “If it gets to be too much, just tell me, alright? We can leave whenever you need.”

You nodded, grateful for his words but already feeling the weight of the room pressing on you. He led you to the table, his presence close beside you as you made your way through the crowd. His friends greeted you warmly, but you couldn’t help feeling the pressure of being in a space that felt too big, too loud, too everything.

George settled next to you, his chair slightly angled toward yours, as though he was positioning himself to block out the world around you. His hand never left yours, his thumb tracing soft patterns on your palm, grounding you in the chaos.

As the evening went on, his friends grew more lively, drinks flowing and laughter echoing through the room. You could feel your anxiety building—your breath quickening with each burst of laughter, every conversation getting louder. The voices seemed to overlap, the jokes becoming faster and more intense. It was all too much. 

George, ever attuned to you, was watching closely. His gaze was unwavering as he noticed the way your shoulders stiffened, the way you tried to mask your discomfort with tight-lipped smiles. Without a word, he shifted in his seat, leaning in just a little closer, his presence like a shield between you and the rest of the world. 

One of his friends, Arthur, a bit too loud after a few drinks, raised his voice to tell a joke. The sound pierced through your mind like a hammer. You flinched, and George immediately noticed. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, his jaw tightening slightly as his protective instincts kicked in.

“Arthur, can you—?” George started, his voice firm but calm. His eyes never left yours, but he turned to his friend. “Could you maybe tone it down a little? She’s not feeling great tonight.” 

Arthur, who had always been a bit oblivious to anyone else’s discomfort, blinked in surprise. “Oh, sorry, man. Didn’t realise—”

“It’s fine,” George interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. His attention was fully on you now. “I’m just saying… we need to keep it quieter for a bit, alright?”

The shift in George’s demeanour didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the group. They all fell into a quieter rhythm, clearly picking up on his protective energy. Arthur quickly apologised again, and the group settled into a more subdued conversation.

You leaned into George slightly, grateful for his intervention but also feeling a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

“No,” George’s voice was gentle but firm, his hand lifting to your cheek to brush away a stray lock of hair. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for. I want to protect you. You’re my priority.” He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes filled with such warmth that it melted away the tension inside you. “I can’t stand seeing you uncomfortable. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you feel safe.”

You felt your heart swell, not just with love but with a deep sense of relief. You didn’t have to hide how you felt, not with George. And in that moment, you realised that his protectiveness wasn’t about being controlling—it was about caring. About caring in the deepest way possible. He wanted you to feel at ease, to be comfortable in your own skin, even in places that made you feel like an outsider.

The night continued, but the energy shifted. George stayed close to you, never letting you slip into the background. When the group’s volume picked up again, he would lean in to make sure you were okay, his body language quietly commanding attention when necessary. The protective side of him—so tender, so fierce—was in full force.

At one point, as the conversation grew louder again, you felt your heart racing, and before you could even think about it, you were standing up. George immediately followed, his hand landing on your shoulder. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but with a certain weight behind it, like he was prepared to pull you away from it all if you needed him to.

You took a deep breath, giving him a small nod. “I think… I just need a minute. Sorry, I didn’t want to make a scene.”

George’s eyes softened. “You’re not making a scene, baby. You’re taking care of yourself. If you need a break, we can step outside. Or we can leave. Whatever you need.” His protective streak was clear, his concern for you outweighing anything else. “You’re not going through this alone.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling the weight of his love settle around you like a warm blanket. “Thank you,” you whispered, unable to put into words how much it meant. 

With George by your side, you knew you didn’t have to navigate this on your own. He would always be there, protecting you, supporting you, and loving you in the way you deserved. And somehow, that made the noise of the world outside seem just a little more bearable.

The night was starting to wind down, and George was still by your side, never letting go of your hand. You had stepped outside for a few minutes, taking in the cool night air, trying to clear your mind after the overwhelming intensity of the restaurant. With George's calming presence beside you, the noise of the world seemed to fade, and your racing thoughts began to settle.

“I’m sorry if I made tonight weird,” you said quietly, your voice soft in the stillness of the evening. “I just... get so overwhelmed sometimes.”

George shook his head, pulling you closer. “You never have to apologise. I just want you to feel okay. If that means we leave early, or if you need to step outside for a breather, I’m here for it. I’ll always put you first.”

His words wrapped around you like a comforting hug, making you feel safe, understood, and so incredibly cared for. You rested your head against his shoulder as you both stood on the quiet street, the hum of the city seeming far away now. 

After a few moments, you turned toward him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “I think I’m ready to go home now.”

George smiled back, nodding. “Let’s get out of here, then.”

The Uber back to his apartment was peaceful, the car filled with nothing but the soft sound of the engine and the quiet rhythm of your breathing. You sat close to George, his hand resting on your thigh, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin, a silent promise that he was there with you every step of the way.

When you arrived at his place, the lights were dim, the apartment quiet and inviting. It felt like the perfect sanctuary after a night of noise and overstimulation. George closed the door behind you both and pulled you into his arms, a soft sigh escaping from his lips as he kissed your forehead.

"Let's just take it easy," he said quietly, his voice filled with tenderness. "No crowds, no loud conversations. Just you and me."

You smiled and nodded, feeling a deep sense of peace in his embrace. It was like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders, and all that mattered now was the gentle, reassuring presence of George beside you.

You both headed to the bedroom, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm, calming light. George pulled back the covers and climbed into bed first, making space for you beside him. You slipped under the blankets, settling into his arms without hesitation. His warmth surrounded you, and you relaxed into him, feeling safe and protected in a way you hadn't known you needed until now.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, his fingers gently stroking your hair. You could feel the softness of his touch, the love in every movement, and the steady assurance that you were exactly where you belonged.

"Thank you for tonight," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "For being so understanding... and for always being there for me."

George's breath was slow and even as he kissed the top of your head. "You don’t need to thank me, baby," he murmured. "You never have to apologise for how you feel. I’m here. Always."

You closed your eyes, content in the silence that enveloped the two of you. The world outside might have been chaotic, but here, in George's arms, there was only peace, only love. You felt the heaviness of the night melt away, replaced by the warmth of his embrace. 

As the minutes passed, the rhythm of his breathing began to lull you into a peaceful sleep, his presence a constant reassurance. You were home now, not just in the physical space, but in the arms of someone who truly saw you, understood you, and loved you for exactly who you were.

And in that moment, everything felt perfect.

——————————————————————————————————Finally got round to doing a request from ages ago! I’m hoping to get another George or Chris one out next week!

Tags-

@themdera

@tyna-19

[thedensworld]

Run Devil Run | c.sc (Teaser)

Pairing: Incubus Seungcheol! x reader (feat. Incubus Jeonghan)

Genre: Supernatural romance au!

Type: fluff, angst, smut (mdnil!)

The New Project – Yoon Jeonghan

You tapped your nails against the rim of your cocktail glass, eyes scanning the dimly lit bar. The air was thick with conversation, laughter melting into the soft hum of jazz playing in the background. It was a Saturday night—which meant one thing.

Yoon Jeonghan would be here.

You had done your research. Jeonghan was a creature of habit, a man who lived in effortless perfection—too beautiful, too charming, too untouchable. A top actor with a face that could launch a thousand headlines, yet somehow, he had kept his name scandal-free.

Your client wanted that to change.

Your task? Get close. Make him fall. Break him. And then, hand over the evidence that would turn his flawless reputation into ruin.

Simple enough.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted him. Jeonghan. He was exactly where he was supposed to be—leaning against the bar, one hand wrapped loosely around a whiskey glass, eyes half-lidded as he listened to a friend’s story with an amused smirk.

A smirk that could ruin lives.

You tilted your head, exhaling slowly. Showtime.

Step one: get close to him.

You adjusted your posture, subtly angling yourself toward him without making it obvious. Not too desperate, not too disinterested. Just enough to place yourself in his periphery.

You ordered another drink, the bartender setting it down just as Jeonghan’s gaze flickered to you. It was a brief glance, barely a second long—but you felt the weight of it.

Good.

Step two: make him fall.

Jeonghan was used to being chased. Women fawned over him, men admired him, and yet—you wouldn’t do either. That was the trick.

So, you didn’t approach him.

You didn’t stare.

Instead, you let him notice you.

You exchanged fleeting glances, offering just the right amount of smile before looking away. A game of push and pull. Just enough to spark curiosity.

Then, the inevitable happened.

He came to you.

“You seem familiar,” Jeonghan mused, sliding into the barstool next to you. His voice was smooth, effortless. The kind that made people want to listen.

You blinked, feigning mild confusion. “Do I?”

He tilted his head, studying you, his smirk deepening as if he had already figured something out. “No,” he said. “But I wanted to see what you’d say.”

Clever.

You exhaled a soft chuckle, tapping your fingers against your glass. “And what did I say?”

Jeonghan took a sip of his drink, eyes gleaming. “Exactly what I expected.”

Step three: Play Him

Once Jeonghan took the bait, everything fell into place.

You met him at the bar twice more over the next few weeks, carefully weaving your way into his world. You weren’t too available, nor were you too distant. The perfect balance of interest and mystery.

You learned things.

1) His manager covered up rumors before they could spread.

2) He was always seen alone, yet never truly alone.

3) He didn’t mind attention, but he chose who got too close.

That was the trickiest part. Jeonghan was too smart. He knew when someone wanted something from him.

So you gave him exactly what he needed instead.

Fun. A distraction. Something to keep him entertained.

And in return, he let you in.

Close enough to stage a few things.

A photo here, a misleading encounter there. The illusion of scandal began to take shape.

Step four: leak the scandal

You sent the carefully crafted photos and fabricated “witness accounts” to your contact. The headlines would come soon enough.

“Yoon Jeonghan: Serial Womanizer?”

A carefully edited narrative. Just enough truth to be believable, just enough ambiguity to make people question.

And just like that, the job was done.

Or so you thought.

Because the next time you walked into the bar, someone else was waiting for you.

Not Jeonghan.

Not your client.

Choi Seungcheol.

And from the way he looked at you, dark amusement curling at the edges of his lips, you knew—

You were in trouble.

[oh-my-damn]

The most ironic part about The Hunger Games and President Snow's downfall is that he literally did it to himself.

Katniss was happy to lay low and fade into obscurity after the games, had he only let her.

She didn't want to be part of a rebellion, she wasn't prepared to become the face of any type of rebel cause, she just wanted to go home and live her life with her family.

But Snow was too greedy. He knew what he had on his hands, his ego was too big to let her play him the way he thought she did - despite the fact that her acts were made out of desperation, not to outsmart him.

If he had only let her be, he would still have been running the country with an iron fist, but he got too greedy.

He wanted to prove to her he was stronger, more powerful; he wanted to humiliate her. He wanted to utilize her the way he had done with all previous victors, and he knew that, because she was in a public coupling with Peeta and had to remain that way so he could save face (since they were both instant Capitol darlings), he couldn't do that. It would tarnish the image of their pairing and thus bring up questions regarding whether or not these two teenagers had in fact manipulated him.

But I wholeheartedly believe that had he let her lay low for a few years, gone through with the plans of letting them marry, eventually the people of Panem and especially the ones who paid for the "company" of Victors would have eventually no longer cared about her being with Peeta. He could have eventually used her the way he desired, with no trouble at all - because we already know she would have done literally anything to save her little sister.

All it would've taken to get her under his thumb was to threaten her sister, and she would've played along.

But his ego got the best of him, which often happens with narcissists. And instead of just taking the L and staying patient, he antagonized her, put her back in the games, and actively forced her to not only partake in the rebellion, but become the face of it.

He was the game maker of his own downfall, of the games that would ultimately end his reign, and that is both beautifully poetic but also painfully ironic.

In my opinion, nothing has beaten the sheer levels of symbolism and depth, packaged in something that is so intriguing to the masses, while simultaneously commenting on why we would find this story so intriguing to begin with, in modern YA literature. It also touches on history, and is especially relevant today, despite the fact it was written decades ago, which only proves how smart and good of a writer Suzanne Collins is.

Not to mention it has one of the best YA book-to-movie-series adaptions we have ever seen (perhaps comparable with the plot twist in Breaking Dawn Part 2, but Twilight does not come close to being as good of an adaptation overall as a series, as THG does).

I've seen these movies hundreds of times by now, and I still enjoy every single rewatch, and as I grow older, and the world changes, the meaning of the story changes, too.

Masterpiece.

[edamameimei]

Perhaps, Even This —chapter 29

A year ago, you were known as your friend group’s “sunshine.” You were able to light up a whole room with your energy and everyone could rely on you for your quick wit and easy humor. You lived life simply one day at a time. However, seemingly out of nowhere, that all changes. Now a Junior in university, you find it extremely difficult to do all the things you used to do. Especially being the Resident Assistant for the Geffen Dorms. New residents begin to move in and one them is a girl you could only describe as “radiant." Her name is Megan Skiendiel, and at first, you don’t welcome the positivity but as you two continue to meet and hang out, you find yourself becoming the person you used to be. Will you be able to be that person you were a year ago? Or will everything just stay the same?

29. just stay

half written (wc: 877)

You swing the door open, an annoyed expression on your face as you look at the Chinese girl. She walks right past you and into your dorm. You groan as you shut your door, turning around to see Megan crossing her arms and looking at you, attempting to keep a cold expression (to you, it looked more like a pout). You point past her, waving your finger dramatically. “I was in the middle of developing pictures for my BIG PROJECT so I really hope whatever you’re here for is actually worth my time.” Megan frowns at your tone but it quickly contorts into a grimace. She takes a deep breath and says, “You’ve been acting really weird lately and I just wanted to know what was going on.” You stand there, exasperated. You rub your face with your hands, “That’s why you kept banging on my door? To check on me?” 

Your tone is filled with annoyance as you walk past her to go back to your makeshift photography studio. It was dimly lit, with the right amount of light to make sure the photos you took wouldn’t be destroyed. You look over them to see if they are still okay after you briefly opened the door. To your relief, they are still in the same shape as you left them. You feel Megan put a hand on your shoulder and you react instinctively, pushing her away from you with force. Your heart beats rapidly and you feel your body go cold. You close your eyes tightly, preparing for what is to come. But nothing happens. 

You turn to look at her with wide eyes, realizing what you had done. Megan wasn’t Yeji. 

You’re met with the sight of Megan on the brink of tears. You open your mouth to apologize, but she speaks up, cutting your thoughts short. “Well, I’m sorry I fucking care about you.” Your eyes soften at her harsh tone. You look down at your feet, feeling confused. It never made sense to you why Megan was so kind. It reminds you of how you were before your relationship with Yeji soured. It reminds you of how happy you used to be and it hurts you even more when you realize that you’ve shown the Chinese girl the worst side of you. Your eyes begin to glisten with tears at the realization and your mouth goes dry. 

Megan doesn’t deserve any of the shit you’ve put her through.

You quickly pull her into a tight hug, burying your face into her shoulder. Tears fall from your eyes as you whisper, “I’m so sorry I–” You choke up, covering your face with one of your hands as the other clutches at the girl’s shirt. You shake your head, your mind not allowing you to think coherently. The words can’t come out and it frustrates you. You feel so pathetic letting Megan see you this way. The last time you allowed someone this close, to see you so vulnerable, they used it against you and made you hurt tenfold. But as Megan’s arms wrap around you, her hand caressing the back of your head, you feel all your walls come crashing down at once. 

“Please…” Your hold on her tightens as you continue, your voice breaking, “Just stay.”

Megan pulls away, her hand cupping your cheek. She uses the pad of her thumb to wipe away your tears. Her hands slide down your arms, taking your hands into hers. She looks into your eyes, a softness evident in them that you don’t deserve at all. She pulls you toward your bed and sits down, looking up at you with a gentle smile. “I’ll stay here as long as you need me to.” Your heart skips a beat. You nod, squeezing her hands. As if to silently tell her ‘thank you.’ She lets go of your hands and leans down to take her shoes off. You raise an eyebrow at her and chuckle. “Are you making yourself comfortable?” Megan throws her shoes to the side and looks up at you with a goofy smile, her nose scrunched up. “Yeah, I had class all day so I need to take a nap.” She scoots over, throwing the blankets over herself. She lifts them and gestures for you to lay with her. “I think you need a nap too, grumpy.” You roll your eyes, pointing back at your photos. You sigh, “I’ve gotta finish these–” 

She cuts you off, her voice firm, “Y/n L/n. We are taking a nap this instant.” She shakes the blanket for emphasis and you groan, taking off your sweater to reveal the ‘Hybe University’ T-shirt underneath. You slide in next to her, your arms wrapping around her without a second thought. When you realize it, your cheeks begin to burn. But Megan doesn’t mind, only shifting her body closer to you. She wraps her arms around you and looks at you with a dimpled smile. Your cheeks burn even more under her gaze. You pull her closer to your chest, grumbling, “Shut up and go to sleep, Meiyokie.” You feel her giggle in your arms, murmuring an, ‘Okay.’ 

You smile. Your eyes flutter close, feeling safe in this bubble with the Chinese girl.

an: an update before all of my presentations eat me alive today <3 lmk what u think, hope u enjoyed!

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[themostlesbianever]

College AU Sevika x reader chapter 7

A/n: i feel like the gap between chapters is getting a bit shorter? thanks again for being so damn patient with me, this chapter is a bit longer than usual because i had many ideas and it was too short to split in two

(proofread but knowing me there will probably still be mistakes)

other parts

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You’re in your room getting ready for the band event when Sevika enters. She's trying, but failing, to conceal her smile. “Hello smiley” you greet her, she looks at you with a kind of disappointed look on her face. “Smiley? How creative” she says sarcastically. You ask her what has got her all smiley and her face lights up slightly.

“I asked Rose to be my girlfriend,” she explains excitedly. “Oh that’s awesome Sev, judging by your face, I’m guessing she said yes?” you say. Sevika nods enthusiastically. She then looks you up and down, “getting ready for the fancy concert I see” she observes. 

“Yeah,” you glance at your watch, “I have to be at the concert hall in about an hour. Ekko and I are picking up dinner on the way, then we have a short rehearsal. and we can eat before the show starts, which is at 7:30 pm.” You ramble on about how there's this one song that still isn't quite going right timing wise and how annoying that is. 

“Right” she says, lengthening the i a bit, “so I have to be there at like 7:20?” she asks. “Uhm yeah, you won’t see me until after tho, well you’ll see me on stage but you know what I mean.” You always start rambling when you’re nervous, not quite knowing what to say or how to bring it into words. Sevika catches onto this pretty quickly. 

“Are you nervous?” she asks you, genuinely seeming to care whether you are or not. “I mean yeah,” you start, “it’s obviously going to be a pretty big crowd and I’ve always struggled with stage fright I guess, but I've done events like this before and I was fine but It’s still nerve wracking because, what if I make a mistake and everyone hears, what if I-” 

Sevika cuts you off by grabbing both your shoulders, you look up at her, which is definitely needed, because this woman is TALL. “You are going to be fine, okay? I know you are, you know how?” she asks, but it's not a genuine question. “Because you are great, you’re great at playing the trumpet so you won’t make a mistake, and if you do, who cares, everyone makes mistakes.” she reassures you, it actually helps a lot and you’re grateful to have a friend like her. 

You thank Sevika and finish getting ready. When you’re done you grab your phone and trumpet case, say bye to Sevika and leave. You walk up to Ekkos room and knock on his door, he opens the door shirtless. “Dude, you’re supposed to be ready, my god, how do you take longer to get ready than me” 

“It’s hard work to look this hot” he says jokingly, you roll your eyes at him. “How about you hurry up so we're not late” you suggest and he immediately gets to work putting on his button up. You sit down on his bed and look around his room, you notice the other side is now decorated, you ask Ekko about it. “Oh yeah, the dude moved in the day after the rest of us, something about it being too busy for him when everyone else was moving in.” He explains. 

Ekko quickly finishes getting ready and the both of you head out to one of the many food spots that are dotted around campus to grab some dinner, so the both of you could eat at the concert hall. You enter a small shop and have a look around, you weren’t really craving anything so you walk past multiple shelves of food before deciding on simple veggie ramen. 

You were informed that there was a microwave, a fridge and a kettle in a break room at the concert hall so the bands could eat before or after their performance. Ekko had also picked ramen, and you teased him for being ‘unoriginal’. You both pay and walk to the concert hall which was surprisingly close to campus. You arrive 5 minutes early which surprises you as you for sure thought you'd be late. 

The two of you make your way over to the stage, that’s where you would rehearse one last time before the performance. They had you rehearsing on the stage to make sure everyone knew where and how to sit and to check the sound. 

When you arrive to the stage you see multiple members of another band leaving, they had rehearsed before you. There were three bands total and all of them would get to play three songs. There were also three time slots for rehearsal, all of them 45 minutes long, enough time to play all three songs one time, just to check everything. 

The rehearsal went pretty well, the timing was a lot better and you started to feel more confident. You pack up your trumpet and make your way to the break room together with Ekko and the other band members. There was one more band rehearsing after you so you had plenty of time to chill for a bit and then eat your dinner, and you did just that. You listened to the other performances from backstage, pacing around trying to fight off the nerves that had surfaced again. You repeat Sevikas words in your head, ‘you’re great’.

The time went by quickly and you stepped onto the stage with as much confidence as you could muster up. You sit down in your designated seat and put your sheet music on the stand in front of you. You glance over at Ekko who was sitting behind the provided drum set, adjusting some things so he could play comfortably. 

Then you look into the audience to try and find your mother, grandma and Sevika, and as soon as you find them you lock eyes with your mother. A big smile spreads across her face and she enthusiastically puts up both of her thumbs. Sevika, who is seemingly having a very interesting conversation with your grandma, notices the movement and looks up onto the stage, at you. She offers you a small smile and nod before going right back to the conversation with your grandma. She looks, unsurprisingly, very good in a suit. Better than you, you thought. 

The performance goes really well and you step off the stage really happy with yourself and your band. As soon as you’ve put your trumpet away Ekko slings his arms around you, “You did so well dude, I know you were nervous but we CRUSHED it.” He practically yells. You tell him to shush but compliment him right back, “You look sick on those drums man, I’m jealous” you giggle. 

After the last band is finished everyone gathers downstairs in the ‘lobby’ of the concert hall, once you're there you look for your family in the sea of people. You spot Sevika easily, as she sticks out above the crowd, and walk over to her. You tap her on the shoulder and she turns around with a slightly annoyed look on her face, which immediately disappears when she realises it's you.

“You were amazing” she tells you, as your mother envelopes you into a firm hug, “Hi mom”.

After a bit of catching up with your mother and grandma everyone goes home as it is quite late. So Ekko, Sevika and you walk back to campus. Once you’re back in your room you collapse onto your bed, finally feeling how tired you really are. You’re so tired that you almost drift off right there, but Sevika stops you from falling asleep.

“I have something for you” she says, pulling out a bouquet of flowers. You sit up and look at her in disbelief. It’s a bundle of red and blue flowers with some white filler plants, and it's wrapped in spider-man paper. "Oh. My. God.” you whisper yell at her, “Is that a spider-man themed bouquet?” you ask and she simply nods, she looks very proud of herself.  

“This is literally the best gift i have ever received, thank you so much” you say as tears start forming in your eyes, Sevika really is a great friend.

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[spitdrunken]

So Pokemon Scarlet is the first Pokemon game I've actually gotten and played at release, which is very exciting for me. I love the sandwich stealer lizard puppy bike very much. Was sad but unsurprised to learn that I couldn't breed it during picnic time like I could other things, even with a ditto there, but it got me thinking about potential in-game reasons why. What if some ancient Pokemon, and Koraidons especially, were more choosey and likely monogamous, picking a singular mate? What if, since ours didn't get on with the other Koraidon, it imprinted on the trainer? What if the trainer(especially a female or ftm trainer)got older, sexually matured, and Koraidon suddenly got overprotective, got deliberately flashier in fights, and started refusing to stay in it's ball at night? What if the trainer woke up one night to Koraidon rutting it's large cock against them, clearly wanting to mate but not knowing properly how to with something so different? Have I thought about this multiple times over the last several months, and possibly too much? (Probably lol)

To clarify, assuming it went through, Mate!Koraidon wasn't a request per se, but rather just a sharing of thoughts. Wonder what other reasons people have for not being able to properly breed legendaries too. :3

notes: Pokephilia

Anon your mind is so huge for this and I really love it :')!! And Koraidon really is such a cutie <3

I loooove the idea that it has imprinted on its trainer! You've been looking after and guiding it through many, many battles, always making sure that there's food for it to eat and it can rest when needed… For a while, carrying you on your back to wherever you need to go had seemed adequate payback to it, but as you grow, it realises there's more it can do for you! It's not an idea you can get out of, at all. Once a Legendary has its mind set on a particular partner, there's absolutely nothing you, or anyone else, can do about it.

Koraidon wants nothing more than to protect you, but you're letting it battle less and less. All at once, it's gotten far more aggressive! There's always a certain amount of damage done during a Pokémon battle, sure, but there's been a change in the air. If any attack veers even a little too close to you, Koraidon turns absolutely ruthless. You've had to put it back in it's ball a couple of times, by force. Even then, it breaks out again within less than a minute— You trust it with your life and aren't afraid of it, but you are afraid that it'll hurt someone. It was never a problem before. To you, nothing else seems to have changed! It's just a sudden and drastic personality shift.

Maybe it's been coming on to you for months! Trying to court you in a way that is completely foreign and means nothing to you… Most likely, it had never even crossed your mind that Koraidon would be trying to do anything of the sort! When it crouches over and ruts against you in the night, it takes no enjoyment out of it. It's more a sign of frustration, with all of its attempts to interest you in it so far thwarted… But, maybe, with its intentions laid out so clear now, you'll reciprocate?

I won't expand on this thought much further because I don't know if you're into that anon, but oh to be impregnated by Kiraidon… drool….