#checked my follower list since its been a hot minute and there's a handful

[onlyfuckswgods]

Important PSA! I am going to start blocking ageless blogs! I'll give the courtesy of 24 hours from THIS POST, but going forward, I won't give that.

I'm not risking my comfort over this and if you're on this side of tumblr, you should know to have an age on your blog.

[folliesandfolderols]

Writing prompts day 70 (part 2) (yes it's a double day)

From this prompt list. If you’ve read this far, I’m not sure you need any explanation, but the short version is I hadn’t written any fiction since 2019, I set a goal to write at least 150 words/day in 2024, and this list was my way to restart. Also I abruptly decided on day 2 I would write an entire Tim/Damian story connecting all the prompts, because I am Good at Judging My Limits. /sarcasm Anyway, I finished the rough draft a while ago and am now unlocking the old entries as I edit.

Read from the beginning here, or on ao3 here

Day 70 (part one) here

***

81. "I don't think I've ever wanted someone more."

102. "Fuck, you're so hot when you're bossy."

***

Tim felt the ball was definitely in Damian's court now, but for the week after their hotel liaison it seemed Damian didn't agree. Tim texted him a couple of times, with spurious inquiries as to the progress of their case or something WE-related. Damian's replies were swift, efficient, and without follow-up.

It was tempting to think he'd read the situation incorrectly, but every time he started to lean toward thinking Damian just wasn't that into him after all, he remembered his timeline. No. He didn't make mistakes with that much evidence at hand. Damian just needed to be waited out.

Eight days after the conference room, Tim's phone vibrated just as he was about to turn in. It had been a shitty night, with rain pouring down the entire time, ending with a wrenched ankle when he'd slipped on black ice. He'd fallen asleep at his dining room table after patrol and woken up with food on his face, so he'd had to shower again before heading to bed.

"Who the hell else is up this late?" he muttered to himself, picking up the phone and opening messages.

Damian's name appeared at the top of the threads. With a triumphant smile, Tim tapped it.

Are you home?

yeah of course why Tim typed, thought better of it, and added capitalization, a period, and a question mark.

I am nearby and wanted to check on you.

Tim resisted the urge to pump his fist in the air like a cheesy eighties movie and replied, You're more than welcome.

About two minutes later, Damian walked through the door Tim had left open for him, looking like a fashion spread in Vanity Fair. (And Tim would've known—they'd both posed for the inside front fold of the issue titled "The New Nepo.")

"Hey," Tim breathed out, trying and failing to keep a dopey grin off his face. He was too tired to make a concerted effort.

"Hello." Damian kicked off his shoes and strode to the couch where Tim waited. "How's the ankle? Father told me you wrenched it while you were out."

"It's fine, just a little sore. Do you want tea? It's freezing tonight." Tim rose to his feet and winced involuntarily at the sharp stab of pain radiating up his shin.

Damian's eyes narrowed. "That's not 'a little sore.' And you look exhausted. Is that . . . is that a piece of a Crocky Crunch nugget in your hair?"

"Dammit." Tim watched as Damian plucked the offending food from the hair just above his ear. "I must've missed it when I washed up."

"You're a disaster, Drake." The reprimand lost some of its impact when Damian pressed his palm to Tim's cheek, then shifted to his forehead. "And you have a fever. I insist that you go to bed immediately."

Tim didn't move, just kept looking up at him, and Damian might actually have had a point about the fever because he couldn't stop smiling. "Fuck, you're so hot when you're bossy."

Damian actually looked taken aback at that. "Are you trying to be funny? I don't find it amusing that someone without a spleen might be coming down with an infection." His hand moved from Tim's forehead to the side of his neck, gently squeezing the sensitive skin where it met his shoulder.

Tim lowered his head to kiss Damian's wrist. "You would if you still hated me. I'm glad you don't."

"I don't waste energy on hating the merely annoying." Damian pulled him closer. "Lean on me so we can get to your bedroom without making that ankle worse."

Tim obediently walk-hopped into his bedroom and climbed into the bed once Damian drew the covers back for him. "Did you really only come out to check on me?"

Damian didn't answer at first, but Tim had learned his lesson by now. He waited, covers pulled up to his chin, counting the beard hairs where they shadowed Damian's cheekbones and jawline. Bruce often needed to shave twice a day. It looked like Damian was soon to be in the same boat. Tim really wanted to feel the stubble against his teeth again.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Damian picked up Tim's hand where it lay on the duvet and played with his fingers. "I was out with Jon again. I just happened to be coming back through the city on my way to Bristol when I spoke to Father."

Tim frowned. "Why have you been hanging out with Jon so much lately?"

Damian shrugged, an elegant lift of his shoulders. "He is always happy to see me. Not many are. And the Manor is . . . the Manor is so empty, now that it's just me and Father."

Tim captured Damian's fingertips with his own and lifted them to his lips. "If you come here, I'll be happy to see you," he said into the warm skin. "I'm happy now."

A faint smile graced Damian's lips as he watched his fingers press to Tim's mouth. "I'm not sorry I stopped by."

"Good. Do it more." Tim kissed his knuckles.

"I feel that I owe you, in any case." At Tim's look of confusion, Damian clarified, "In the conference room, you did not—I failed to—"

"Dami, no." Tim pulled Damian's hand so he could press it to his chest. "I wanted things to go that way. You didn't fail at all."

Damian nodded, eyes downcast. "If you say so."

"Hey." Once he'd regained Damian's eye contact, Tim smiled again. "That doesn't mean I don't want to come with you next time."

"Next time?" Damian echoed, probably aiming for "incredulous" with his tone but only succeeding in sounding enthusiastic.

With a tug to his arm, Tim pulled him close enough that he could kiss Damian's forehead, right on the furrow between his brows. "Yeah, next time, if you're up for that.”

“I'm not opposed, but I am . . .” Damian seemed to be struggling for the correct term. He decided on, “Skeptical.”

Tim nodded. “What if I told you I don't think I've ever wanted someone more? Would that make it more believable?"

Damian had been carefully holding himself apart from Tim except where their hands touched, but at this, he let himself lean into him, tucking his face into Tim's neck as he wrapped strong arms around Tim's waist. "I would very much like to believe it."

"Good." Tim kissed the top of his head and held him close. "I'll do my best to help with that, then."

Damian nodded, still hiding his expression against Tim's neck. "May I stay here tonight? I'm tired and I don't want to drive out to the Manor this late."

Damian Wayne, asking for something he wanted from Tim Drake? Tim resisted the urge to reach for his journal and instead said, "Yeah, of course. I'd love to have you."

days 71-75 here

[bmodiwrites]

Be My Little Baby

Hi friends! I'm here with a small little ficlet that's been stuck in my brain since I heard the song Be My Baby on American Dad. Its broken my writers block so here's hoping it's the start to more things to come. I'll probably do a second part so comment if you want to be on the tag list. Check out a snippet of Be My Little Baby down below - then check out the rest on AO3!

“Tonight’s the night!”

Steve couldn’t stop the grin manifesting on his face – Robin’s words were like music washing over him, radiating throughout his head in the best of ways. Despite being eager and overly excited by their prospect all day, Steve waited until he walked through his apartment door to truly experience the anticipation. The thought of finally going out on date with Eddie already proved to be too much of a distraction; actually allowing himself to acknowledge its occurrence in just a couple of feeble hours would’ve been his doom.

The time at Family Video already moved glacially – looking forward to something always slowed the time suck of his shift down even further.

Home now, Steve allowed the palpable giddiness to finally wash over him. He tossed his keys onto the small table right by the front door, not evening excitement breaking his routine. They landed with a satisfying rattle right where he always left them. Rolling off of that minor, yet fulfilling success, Steve shouldered out of his vest with a sigh before joining Robin on the couch.

As she turned towards him, eyes like pinpricks, Steve took in the rest of his surroundings. The musky scent of weed hit his nostrils, making the smile on his face spread a little wider. “Looks like you’re in for a wild Friday night yourself,” Steve said while reaching out to grab the small glass bowl sitting in Robin’s hands. Her glossy eyes widened for a moment, Steve’s joke settling in.

“I am right where I want to be for the rest of the evening. I even brought out the good Chinese menus.” Her long arm shot out to point at the stack of paper flyers sitting on the coffee table. Like she said, their favorite place’s offerings sat on top.

“Besides, I didn’t want to do anything too crazy. If you need emotional support or whatever, I want to be readily available.” The smirk she sent his way meant Steve wouldn’t have a moments peace until he gave her all the details… the second he walked back through the door.

Though, after months of listening to him pining, Steve figured Robin earned the right to a little dirt hot off the press.

“You’re just too nosy for your own good. Tonight’s going to be great. If I’m extra lucky, I won’t make it back to suffer your questioning until tomorrow morning.” Waggling his eyebrows, Steve flicked the lighter he picked up off the couch cushion to ignite the freshly ground green just waiting to be smoked. The satisfying rush of heat hitting the back of his throat had Steve closing his eyes, really savoring the burning drag. Despite his projected confidence, nerves were bubbling away under Steve’s skin – the immediate head swim of a recognizable high was the perfect medicine.

There was some idle chit chat as they passed the bowl back and forth every now and then the following few minutes. Robin was high enough to expose a handful of new details about her quickly escalating crush on their neighbor two doors down, pulling Steve’s mind away from Eddie and their night together perfectly. His best friends drama always sucked him in.

Check out the rest on AO3!

I'm tagging some peeps I know always enjoy the work! Let me know if you want added/removed for part two: (@writer-in-theory, @thefreakandthehair, @infinite-orangepeel)

[misspearly1]

Day Eighteen: Accidental Stimulation - Din D'jarin

Kinktober22 List

WC: 4.4k Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Talk of Dehydration. Mutual Pining. Accidental Stimulation. Female Masturbation + Getting caught. Unprotected PIV sex. Desperate Sex. Fluff. AN: Oof, this took me a solid minute to write my loves. Kinktober is taking its toll out on me but thankfully I only have eleven more to write after this. I hope you enjoy.

-

You look at Mando incredulously, fearing that all hope is lost, or fear that he has completely lost the plot with heat stroke, as he points to a sad and pathetic looking speeder bike sitting at the bottom of a small canyon in the desert. 

Two hours ago, a devious bounty managed to lure you and the Mandalorian out into the desert where he then tricked you to abandon your healthy, fully functioning, speeder bike to give chase on foot instead. Mando was so close to capturing him too, he was literally just an arm’s reach away before the target hopped onto the speeder and took off, leaving you both to the dust.

You raised your gun ready to shoot at the time, but Mando stopped you and you were understanding as to why, but now you wish you didn’t listen and just pulled the trigger. Your aim isn’t great at all, but you might have been able to hit the target, regardless of the fact he is wanted alive, and you’d have the speeder bike to travel back to the ship where the water supply is. 

Now after two hours have passed since then, you can see that Mando regrets not shooting the target himself. It’s a mistake and you don’t blame him for the judgement call in the heat of the moment considering the bounty is worth ten thousand credits, however the man is currently pointing to another speeder bike like it’s a miracle and you really do think that heat exhaustion is clouding his mind. 

“It probably doesn’t even work, Mando.” You shake your head with a huff, “And we shouldn’t waste our energy checking it out.” You explain, hoping that he could see common sense, but of course, just like Mando does all the time, he insists. “Worth a try.” 

You’ve been working with him for the last year, and you know there’s no use trying to protest when he gets determined. Watching the back of his cape swish side to side with each step he takes down the steep slope, you sigh frustratedly and wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Getting down into the canyon isn’t your biggest worry, it’s coming back out, but you follow his steps and make your way down regardless of the worry. There’s no way you’re letting him go alone. 

Climbing down ledge from ledge then sliding down the slippery slopes and, in some areas, even sliding down on your ass until you reached the bottom, you immediately felt some relief from the big star in the sky when standing inside the shade. You damn bear wanted to moan from the relief it felt that good. Your clothes were damp, clinging onto your skin with sweat and your exposed skin would surely be sunburnt by now, but the dehydration is most worrisome. You can feel it starting to take effect. Your mouth is dry, lips too, and you have an insatiable thirst. 

“Here,” Mando gestures as he walks towards you, holding his canteen. “Finish this off, cyar’ika. It’ll keep you hydrated til we get back to the ship.” Apparently taking notice of your relief in the shade and seeing that you're clearly dehydrated, he couldn’t not offer up the last of the water supply for you to finish off. “But Mando, what about yo-” You tried to protest, but the man cut you off with his hand held out and a curt shake of his head. “Drink.” He says flatly, no ifs or buts - adamant as always. 

You reluctantly lift the canteen and take two sips, watching him pull off his cape and lay the item of clothing over his arm instead. It was harrowing to watch, painful even. No matter how hot you are right now, Mando is a thousand times worse inside all of that armour and you can’t drink all of this water for yourself. It would be wrong. You can’t do that to him, can’t allow him to suffer so you will be okay. 

“Mando, please.” You plead with him. Even reaching out for his gloved hands, you place the canteen in his palm then squeeze his fingers around the object reassuringly. “We both know that you need this more than I do. I will be okay, I had a drink, but you finish it off.” Nodding once, you walk away from him quickly before he could try to argue about it and now that your back is turned, you hope that he will use this moment of privacy to lift his helmet and finish off the water. You hope that he gets the message that you, too, can insist and be adamant. No ifs or buts. 

You care for Mando, and he cares for you too; this is just one of the many examples that show how you both have each other's backs, although sometimes you can argue when there is a disagreement, you both mean well and only have the best interest in mind. While he hydrates, you approach the speeder bike and hold back a groan from the sun beating down on your exposed once again as you look the vehicle over. I’ll gladly take the cold over the heat any day, you thought. 

Luckily, there are no loose parts laying around on the ground so that’s a good sign, but you still have no hope simply because it was left out here at the bottom of a canyon. No one would leave a working speeder bike. It’s just absurd…. Or is it? You ask yourself while looking it over. Nothing at first glance looks seriously wrong with it, the power cell is intact and it’s showing half full on the gauge. The outriggers are a little rusty and one of the back thrust flaps is cracked but held together with tape. She isn’t perfect, but she’s all you’ve got. 

You wait for Mando to join you again before trying the ignition switch, not wanting to turn around to break the trust you have built with the man thus far in case he still has his helmet off. There wasn’t a whole lot you knew about Mandalorian's to begin with before meeting him, but one thing that pretty much the whole galaxy knows is that he mustn't ever reveal his identity, therefore you’ll do everything in your power to uphold that. 

Even when you hear his boots dragging across the sand towards you, you still don’t turn around to face him. Admittedly, sometimes you worry too much about stumbling across the man without his helmet, though you can never be too safe, right? You relax a little when hearing his modulated sigh from over your shoulder, knowing that his helmet is definitely back on now, however when he approaches, your body becomes stiff from the delicate touch of his gloved hand on your lower back, burning through your clothes. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s my fault we’re in this mess.” He apologises sincerely, then promises. “I’ll make it up to you one day, somehow.” You still remain shocked and confused, stiffer than a nail from his harmless comforting gesture. His words fall on deaf ears as all you can think about is how good his hand feels. You couldn’t tell whether or not you were burning up from the sun or burning up from his touch. Choosing the latter when he pulls away, you miss his touch and yearn to feel it again, which is really quite bizarre that you even miss his touch to begin with. 

Mando isn’t a physical touch kind of guy, he’s never really touched you like this. Sure, there have been little accidents before where he bumps into you, but to actually reach out and hold you in some way, reassuringly, is new for him and new for you to feel. And now that you have felt it, you want more. It makes your legs squeeze together with the dirty minded thoughts racing around your head then makes your cheeks blush with shame for even thinking about him in that manner. 

Miraculously, you even begin to feel the desire flooding your core. You’re dehydrated, you didn’t even think you’d be able to feel wet when dehydrated, let alone feel wet in the first place by the simple act of feeling a hand on your back. Stars! I need to get laid. You reprimand yourself, blaming the fact that you’ve gone too many months without intimacy for the sudden surge of arousal. That has to be the only reason for your sexual confusion right now; has to be the reason why you yearn to feel Mando’s gloved hands between your legs. 

Focus! You snap with your inner voice, directing your attention back to the task at hand and not your thoughts. The speeder bike. That’s more important right now, you can deal with whatever you were just thinking about later. “Ready to see if she’s alive or not?” You ask Mando in a small voice, still feeling the effects of your own dirty imagination. 

The man only nods in return and with that, you lean over for the ignition switch. She backfires loudly three times, rattling and clattering thunderously that makes you and Mando take a step back, fearing that she’s about to blow. After a few moments, she calms down and settles to an excessively loud hum, though still shaking violently. Always too good to be true. No one would leave a perfectly good working speeder back. You agree with your thoughts. 

It didn’t sound promising, so you kneeled to the floor and looked over the engine while Mando walked around the bike, no doubt to check if there were any problems on that side. One of your many skills is knowing a thing or two in mechanics. You know enough to get by, but any major problems are lost on you. A nasty smell was flooding your nostrils and the catalytic converter looked damaged - that’s your problem. 

“Hey, do you smell that?!” You yell to Mando over the loud racket coming from the engine, but when there is no answer, you look up for him. “Shit!” You gasp, not expecting him to be so close. He was leaning over the bike, the T shape of his visor directly above your face giving you a fight, but his proximity to you was most tantalising, even a little intimidating. And if you didn’t know any better, you would say that he was smirking inside the helmet simply from the way he was tilting his head to the side, as if amused from your reaction. 

He jerks his chin outwards, a wordless way of asking you to repeat what you said, but you gulped as your eyes roamed the broad expanse of his shoulders and wide chest towering over you in this position. It made you think of him laying over your naked body instead. “Um, I think it’s going to be okay,” You rise from the floor, explaining loud enough for him to hear this time. “She’s spewing fumes, that’s what the noise and smell is, but she’ll get us back to the ship if we take it easy and don’t overpower the engine.” 

“Okay, mesh’la.” Mando yells back over the noise, nodding, “Let's go back home.” He swings a leg over the bike and moves up the seat as much as he could for you to sit on the back, but you froze with surprise, thinking about the fact he has just called the razor crest home. You feel a concoction of different thoughts whirling around your brain, even though the ship is where you both reside day and night on your travels through the galaxy, he’s never called it home before. It makes you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. 

“What’s wrong?” He tilts his head to ask, worried. You snap out of it then, shaking off your emotions while replying. “N-nothing just… Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Upon looking at the backseat and seeing only one set of foot pegs, you ask. “Where do you want me to put my legs, speeders aren’t made for two carriers?” 

Jerking his head to the side, another wordless gesture telling you to just hop on, you reach out and hold his shoulder, then sigh breathily when feeling his brute strength under your fingertips. Has he always been this big and strong under his clothes? You ask, wishing to explore his bare skin without the clothing barrier in the way. 

You swing your leg over and sit down, now gripping his shoulder with the urge to moan out from the vibrations below caused by the engine. You clenched around nothing, feeling your clit pulse from the contact of the seat against your core. It was buzzing so loud and strong, that you already knew this journey back to the ship was going to be euphoric. 

“Just relax.” Mando yells, mistaking the fact that you are clearly turned on right now for discomfort as he reaches for your legs to wrap around his waist. “I’m sorry, it’s just for a little while, cyar’ika.” He justifies himself, and you immediately lean in close to reassure. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I promise.” It’s actually more than okay, Mando… 

He nods after you get comfortable then hands his cape to you. “Keep this safe for me.” He asks, and you know how much his cape means to him, so you handle it with care. Taking it from him then putting it behind his back, you move up the seat and keep it secured between your bodies. Quickly growing tired of the yelling, you just threw him a thumbs up instead and he then returned the gesture by taking both of your hands with a firm squeeze before placing them over his chest plate. You wanted to feel that again, something so simple as holding his hands was electric. 

As he accelerates, getting you both out of the canyon to make your way back home, as he newly calls it, you rest your cheek to his back and immediately close your eyes, picturing him pleasuring you instead of the vibrations from the bike. You couldn’t help it. You were just so turned on from his touch and now with the vibrations below, you were imagining it was his fingers working their magic. Although you felt so dirty and wrong for thinking about Mando in this sexual manner, you loved how good it felt to be pressed against his body like this. It felt like you were hugging him from behind, but it wasn’t a real hug. As much as you wished it to be, it wasn’t real.

Truthfully, you wished you could be sitting up front instead; up front and facing him with your legs wrapped around his waist. And that wishful thought makes you clench around nothing again, just imagining your burning heat sitting above his crotch while he rides the speeder back to the ship. There was no use trying to fight the inevitable. You were quite literally sitting on top of a vibrator and the sensations it was providing were too pleasing to ignore. 

Besides, would it really be all that bad to make the most of it? To make the most of this journey and get yourself off a couple times before you reach the Razor Crest and continue your hunt for the target? Who knows when your next moment of privacy will be as you can barely pleasure yourself these days with how cramped the ship is and how busy your workload has been. 

You’re always with Mando. He, as well as yourself, doesn’t have any real privacy. You’re always together, not that you mind it, but moments like this where you can release some of your pent-up sexual frustrations are sparse. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise, you ponder in thought. You’re clearly having mixed emotions about your employer and that’s because you are so deprived of intimacy. 

You need this release; need this sexual release so you can be able to think straight and get back to normal. After justifying your actions, you quit fighting your own needs and just relax, letting the vibrations pleasure you. Small gasps and whimpers slipped past your lips and your cheeks burned at the thought of Mando hearing you. 

Hope had you thinking that the man would love it, that he’d love the fact you were quite literally getting yourself off behind him, but thinking realistically, he would probably find it weird and disrespectful. Find you weird and disrespectful. You still thought about him though. Even after you justified that feeding your sexual hunger would make you think clearly, it didn’t stop you from thinking about Mando pleasuring you instead. 

You wanted him so badly and even thought about his leather gloved fingers sliding inside of you. The vibrations ramp up a notch as he speeds up the bike, thus causing you to bury your face between his shoulder blades and muffle your throaty mewls. Your head floats off into the clouds as you lose all sense of control. It’s like everything around you fades out into nothing and all you can focus on is Mando, as if holding onto him kept you tethered to reality. 

Panting heavily through your release, you feel another one rising again and ride it out, basking in the magnificence of over-stimulation. Your hands unintentionally grip Mando’s chest plate, the muscles in your legs tensing up with a fiery burn and your thighs squeezing together around his hips. You thank the stars above for the speeder being so loud, otherwise he would be able to hear you literally falling apart and whining through the aftershocks. 

It’s too much; too pleasurable that it’s becoming painful, but you don’t want it to stop. You want to be reduced to a quivering mess, to be soaked in your own desire as your eyes haze over with bliss. “Oh f-fuck.” You moan disgracefully, succumbing to your wants and needs; your need to tell him how you really feel about him. Even though he can’t hear it, you need to speak your truth and say the words out outloud. “Stars! I want you so bad, Mando.” You cry to yourself, “I want your fingers inside of me.” 

Minutes passed by like an eternity before the bike slowed down and you no longer felt the sun beating down on your back anymore, just the coolness of the shade blessing you with a break from the heat. “We’re home, mesh’la.” You hear Mando say but could barely form a reply and just nodded into his back. 

However, instead of getting off the speeder, he firmly held onto your thigh and hip, then pulled you around to the front. “M-Mando?” You gasp with surprise. You were now sitting on his crotch, gazing up into the T shape of his visor as he placed his thumb and forefinger to your chin, looking back down at you. “I heard you moaning, sweet girl,” He growls, hand on your hip squeezing the flesh hard as your cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment. He heard you, heard you moaning therefore he must have heard what you said. 

“I’m sorry.” You blurted, lowering your head in shame, but the man slipped his hand around the base of your neck and tilted your head back before pressing his helmet to your forehead. “I want it too…” He exhaled shakily, “I want you so badly, cyar’ika, I always have.” 

“You have?” You ask, disbelieving the words exiting his mouth. “B-but I don’t understand. How have I not noticed before?” 

“Because I do well with hiding my emotions.” The man explains, both hands now firmly holding your hips, his fingers slip under your shirt with request. “But not anymore cyar’ika. I won’t hide how I feel anymore, if you won’t hide anymore either.” 

“I won’t. Not ever again, Mando.” You moan, brows pulling together with bliss under his gaze. You can feel the warm leather on your skin, feel the burn of his fingers inside desperate to touch you without the barrier of clothing. Looking down briefly and whimpering at the sight of his gloved hands straining against the fabric, you look back up into his visor with a nod. “Touch me. Please touch me, I need you so bad.” 

Laying down and arching your back for him as he makes quick work on removing your pants, you moan falling on his ears audibly this time, you feel the desperation from the man during his bid to remove all barriers of clothing preventing him from pleasuring you. Mando hikes up your shirt, exposing your breasts to the warm breeze blowing over your skin before pawing at your booms with one hand. He tears your panties down your legs, the hurriedness of his actions making you blush. 

“M-Mando.” You whine; whine and beg without actually saying what you need from him. He heard you loud and clear anyways, he heard it from the way you moaned his name. Mando knew how much you wanted him; knew from the moment he laid his hand on your lower back earlier and your heart rate kicked up suddenly. “I know, sweet girl.” He breathes reassurance, telling you exactly what you need to hear. “I know and it’s okay. I will take care of you.” 

“Oh fuck!” You cry upon feeling two bare fingers sliding into your sex. When did he take them off? You don’t even know, but you don’t care either. His fingers are so big and fulfilling, bending into a come hither motion to caress your g-spot. “So wet, mesh’la.” He groans heavy and wanton, admiring the slick coating his fingers. There was so much in fact, it was drooling down his digits and making a mess inside the palm of his hands. “So tight too.” His modulated exhale reaches your ears, shaky and breathless. 

You clench around him, the muscles in your cunt aching with dire need to be stroked and stretched. “M-More.” You whimper. Hands trailing down your body to pull down your bra, exposing your nipples, you hold them between your fingers and plead with him shamelessly. “Please Mando. I want mo-yes! Like that, just like that.” You yell out, rewarding his actions with your words as he buries three fingers to the hilt beautifully. 

You don’t even feel Mando removing his hand from your breast, nor do you feel him fighting to open his slacks and free himself. All you can focus on is the way he grunts. Your eyes closed, lost within the bliss of his fingers pleasuring you, only when he removes them, you open your eyes with a needy whine. “N-no, don’t stop.” You look up just in time to see the man reaching for you, grabbing you by the sides and pulling you flush to his chest. 

“Cyar’ika!” He growls deep and low, cock thrusting inside of you and bottoming out in one swift motion. You mewl from the stretch, pulsing around his girth and grip onto his biceps from the burn his size was causing. It was phenomenal. You wanted it again, to feel him stretch you open again and again with each snap of his hips into yours. “Mando move!” You choke on the words, burying your face into the nook of his neck and rolling your eyes back with the scent of him flooding your senses. He smells so good, so heavenly. 

The man makes quick work of rutting into you, using your own body as leverage to pull you into his thrusts and meet him halfway. You could hear your desire squelching around him, could feel the damp spot it was leaving on his clothes, making a mess. Though it wasn’t enough for him. Mando apparently had his own sexual frustrations to release too. He needed more and he took more. 

“Hold on.” He grunts an order, hooking both arms behind your knees and using your ass to lift you up and down. The man even leaned back, getting himself comfy as he uses your cunt like his own personal fuck toy to get himself off. You don’t care for the romantics right now, you need raw primal sex, and Mando was giving it to you in the best way. 

Little squeaks and moans slipped into his neck as he grabbed the globes of your ass and began slamming you down onto his hips. His cock was bruising your insides, filling you up completely each time. “C-cum, I’m cumming.” You manage to utter before falling limp, just letting him take over and fuck you into oblivion. 

“Tell me when to stop.” He moans brokenly, still thrusting hard and deep. “I’m nowhere near done sweet girl but tell me when to stop and I will.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you nod into his neck. Falling apart on his cock, your high was intensified as he surges through your vice-like grip and continues to fuck you from below. “Inside me.” You moan softly, tiredly, “Come inside of me, Mando. Fuck me until you're satisfied.” 

You blew past the stages of over-stimulation and entered the realms of sexual exhaustion. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, so instead you just held onto Mando like he was a lifeline and let him use your pussy for his own pleasure. The man had stamina for days. Stamina like you’ve never seen before as he comes multiple times, filling you up with his warm creamy seed. Even when he paused for a break, gathering some energy while allowing you a break, he started again with a slow grind, relishing in the pretty little sounds escaping you. 

“Tell me to stop, mesh’la.” He says, almost begging you at this point to give yourself mercy. Mando wasn’t lying, he is nowhere near done and can last for hours - for you. He’s dreamt of his for months, fisted his cock many nights thinking it was your heat instead and now that he has your cunt wrapped around his cock, he doesn’t want to stop, can’t stop until he has emptied his sac. “Do you want to stop?” You lift your head to ask, gazing into the T shape of his visor and picturing what beautiful eyes he must have behind it. 

“No, not at all.” He groans and gasps in reply, feeling you clench around him. A smile tugs on your lips, sweet and innocent like at first, but then it becomes devilish and naughty. You don’t want to stop and neither does he. You both want more. “Well keep fucking me Mando.” You sigh breathily, resting your cheek to his shoulder with a request;

“And don’t stop until we’re both completely spent.” 

-

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[linahopeeeee]

Hardworking

Masterlist

ღ Pairings: Jungkook x reader

ღ Summary: ever since you and your ex boyfriend broke up you’ve done nothing but work, well tonight you jungkook is going to make sure to take your mind off of your job.

ღ Words: 2500

“oh come on y/n” your best friend Kayla says, dropping down to her knees in front of you, hands together as if she was going to pray or something. “you haven’t gone out with us in forever and we miss you” she pouts turning to look at your other friend Lisa who just nods enthusiastically, agreeing with what the girl on the floor just said.

 “that’s because I’ve been working a lot and whenever I get home I’m either super tired or I have to work in the morning so I cant stay out getting shit faced” you say matter of factly, still trying find a way to get yourself out of this situation

 “well that’s a good thing that your off all weekend. You didn’t work today either so you shouldn’t be tired” she says and you sigh, lowering your head.

 “fine” you finally say and she jumps up, clapping happily.

 “okay this is great, we gotta find you something to wear, something hot enough to get you fucked tonight” she says and you roll your eyes, knowing she was going to pick the sluttiest outfit imaginable.

 “who told you I wanted to get fucked tonight?” you question, eye brow raised and she laughs

 “who told you I cared about what you wanted? You haven’t gotten any dick since you and Kai broke up and that’s been what like 7 months?”

 “how do you know I haven’t had sex since Kai?”

 “have you?”

 “No” you mumble

 Instead of replying she starts walking towards your bedroom, motioning for the two of you to follow her. When she gets there, she goes straight into your closet, looking through your clothes and mumbling out quiet no’s at everything she finds.

 It takes about five minutes of her looking through your clothes and talking to herself before she comes out of the closet, two pieces of clothes in her hands.

 In one had she’s holding a black leather mini skirt and a white bustier lace crop top. Okay not as bad as you thought it was going to be. You thought she was going to have you out here in next to nothing, or something see-through.

 “you pair this with those black heels of yours and your definitely getting dicked down tonight” she says tossing the items on your bed and pushing you towards the bathroom so you can take a quick shower. While your in the shower your two friends both leave to go get ready for the night, agreeing to meet back at your house at 10

 After showering and shaving, literally everything, you head back to your room to begin getting dressed. You look at the clock on the side of your bed and see that its almost 9 which means you have an hour to get dressed and put your make up on.

 After your hair and makeup is done you check the time again and its now 9:50 and your friends should be back any minute. A few minutes later you hear the doorbell and you rush down to open it.

 “damn girl you look sexy as fuck” kayla says as soon as you open the door, Lisa hums in agreement.

 “I’m ready, I just gotta grab my phone” you say running back up the stairs and grabbing your phone off the charger. When you get back down stairs your friends inform you that they’ve ordered the uber and it’ll be there in about two minutes.

 The club that you guys go to is one that’s owned by your ex boyfriends dad, and luckily for you the breakup wasn’t bad and you and you ex ended on good terms, the two of you still really close friends so you guys are on the vip list.

 “shots?” Lisa says loudly over the music and you all agree, heading towards the bar and ordering two rounds of shots, downing them immediately, feeling yourself start to loosen up almost instantly.

 “I definitely needed this” you tell them and they nod “ever since me and Kai broke up, I’ve been doing nothing but working” you admit, you and Kai were together for 2 years and you truly loved him, so when he broke up with you it was painful and the only way you knew how to cope with the pain was to ignore it so you begin working a lot, barely having a day off in weeks until your job decided to give everyone in your unit the weekend off.

 “I know babes, that’s why we’re going to get you fucked so good tonight, your going to forget all about Kai” Kayla says and you hum.

 “see anybody hot enough to be between your legs tonight?” lisa ask you and you all turn and scan the crowd, sure there’s a few good looking guys here but you need somebody sexy. You need someone who makes Kai look like a pile of shit compared to them.

 “I think I may need another drink before I can decide” you say honestly, knowing that most of the people in this room would begin to look a lot better if you had more alcohol in your system.

 Back at the bar you order a sex on the beach, quickly drinking it. “what about him?” you say pointing at a guy with dyed blonde hair and adorably pink plump lips, your friends turn to see who your talking about, scanning him from head to toe as he talks to his friends

 “nope to short” Lisa says and you roll your eyes, of course she’d say that, she loves tall dudes, anyone over 6 feet are her type, doesn’t matter if their complete assholes.

 “oh what about the guy next to him, black hair, tattoos and muscles for days?” kayla says and you turn to look at him

 Okay yeah he’s hot, he’s beyond hot, he’s sexy as fuck. Hair long enough to put in a ponytail, tattoos going all the way up his arm, and a lip piercing that you just want to suck.

 “yes he’s perfect” Lisa agrees and you shrug, not trying to seem to desperate at the thought that you may get to fuck that man tonight.

 “okay but he’s with his friends, how am I supposed to talk to him?” you question and kayla smiles, taking another sip of her drink before walking towards the table of guys sitting there, your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you try to stop her but she just continues as if she doesn’t hear you.

 You and lisa watch as she walks towards the table and introduces herself, she says a few things to them the she turns and point in your direction, the tattooed boy turns to look at you and waves, you smile back before turning around in your chair, your face feels like its on fire.

 Too shy to turn back around you miss the way the boy gets up and follows kayla to where you sitting, only noticing his presence when he takes the seat next to you.

 “hi” he says and you look up at him, god he’s even sexier close up you think to yourself

 “hey”

 “your friend told me that you thought I was hot?” he ask head tilted and a smirk plugging at his lips

 “I mean I didn’t say those exact words, but yeah you are definitely attractive” you reply

 “I’m Jungkook” he says, holding his hand out for you to shake. His hands have tattoos too.

 “y/n” you say taking his hand in yours, but before you can even shake his hand, he’s bringing yours up to his mouth and placing a soft kiss on it, causing you to blush, turning your head so he doesn’t see how red your face is.

 He does anyway

 The two of you talk for a while, just getting to know each other a little better. You learn that he’s a year older than you, and he’s a tattoo artist and part time dancer.

~

“would you like a drink?” you ask and he nods, insisting that water was fine, after handing him the water you both head towards your living room, sitting down on the couch and talking.

 But now your tired of talking and your ready to do what you came here to do, so you take the cup of water from his hands and throw your leg over his thigh, straddling him. his eyes go wide for a few seconds before he’s able to compose himself and his hands find your waist.

 Your mouth is on his, tongue swiping over his bottom lip.

 “fuck” he groans as you grind yourself down on his dick, you can feel how hard he is every time his erection rubs along your pussy.

 You break the kiss to take off his shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it somewhere across the room. and when you think he cant get any hotter he continues to surprise you. there’s tattoos all on his chest, muscles everywhere.

 Realizing that he’s shirtless and your not he begins undoing the straps of your shirt, pushing it off your shoulders when he’s done, he quickly takes your bra off, lips latching on to your nipples immediately and sucking on them gently. He blows cool air on them after a few seconds and laughs to himself after you shiver slightly from the sensation.

 Your lips find his neck and you begin sucking hard, a purple bruise forming almost instantly.

 “where’s your bedroom?” he asks and you point in the direction of it.

 He lays you down on your bed and takes off your skirt, panties coming off with it. he stands there looking down at you, pussy swollen and wet, your so wet he can see it coating your thighs.

 He makes himself comfortable between your legs, placing soft kisses on your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you so desperately need him.

 “god I’ve wanted to do this all night” he says before licking a long strip from your slit up to your clit. He takes the swollen nub into his mouth and begins sucking on it. your hand finds his hair and you tug on it hard.

 “fuck I’m gonna cum” you warn him after a few minutes of his assault on your pussy, he hums around your clit and that’s what sends you over the edge, orgasm more intense since you haven’t had one in a while.

 When he comes up from between your legs his mouth and chin are both covered in your cum. Wasting no time you grab the back of his head, crushing your mouth into his and moaning at the taste of yourself on his lips.

 “god your so fucking hot” he groans against your mouth as your hand goes down and begins rubbing his erection through his pants. He quickly stands up kicking his pants and underwear off in one swift motion.

 When he gets back on the bed, you quick to flip you both over so that he’s on his back, your hand finds his dick and your eyes widen a bit at the size,

 Fuck he’s huge, maybe the biggest you’ve ever had. But luckily your mama didn’t raise no bitch so you use the ponytail holder that you had on your wrist and quickly put your hair up, taking his cock back into your hair and licking the underside.

 You take the head in your mouth as your hand goes down and begins playing with his balls. You close your eyes and push your head down as far as you can, holding it for a few seconds before pulling him all the way out of your mouth, a string of spit still connecting the two of you.

 “fuck my mouth” you tell him using the back of your hand to wipe away the spit, before taking him back in your mouth. He’s not one who needs to be told twice apparently because he grabs the back of your head and begins to slowly thrust his cock in your mouth.

 With each thrust his pace begins to quicken, until he’s brutally hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. You swallow around him feeling him twitch in your mouth, knowing he’s close. thank god cause your jaw is really starting to hurt with how wide you have to open your mouth to be able to take his big ass dick in it.

 He doesn’t even have time to warn you before his cum is painting the back of your throat, you wait until he’s done before swallowing it all down, opening your mouth wide for him to see.

 “its going to take me a few minutes before I can get hard again so I can stretch you out while we wait” he tells you and you nod, laying down on your bed where he was previously.

 He inserts a finger into your wet entrance, pumping it a few times before adding two more. He now has three fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. One of his fingers hits that spot within you and your crying out, he smiles to himself at having found it so easily, before repeatedly hitting it over and over again.

 “how many times can you cum?” he asks you, lips pressing kisses onto your upper thigh.

 “fuck, idk maybe three” you say never really pushing yourself past two but with him you know you can go once more. He doesn’t say anything just nods at the new information

 He feels your orgasm approaching before you do, with the way your clenching so tightly around his fingers. His mouth reattaches to your clit and you vision goes white, as you cum for the second time tonight.

 He’s hard again when he sits up, reaching for his discarded pants off the floor and getting the condom out of it. once its on he lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in, groaning at how warm, tight and wet you are.

 He doesn’t waste any time, quickly thrusting into you. he takes one of your legs and lifts it on his shoulder, this new position allowing him to go deeper. He’s so deep you can you can practically feel him in your stomach.

 His finger finds your wet clit and he brings to rub it, starting off with light pressure before increasing it, rubbing harder and faster. “hold it” he tells you when he feels you clenching tightly, knowing that he’s close and he wants to feel you cum around him when he cums.

 “fuck fuck fuck” you say repeatedly as if it was the only word you knew

 “okay you can cum” he says and you do as your told, cumming at the same time as him. he slowly pulls out of you, before collapsing on the bed next t you

 “fuck that was-”

 “yeah” you say cutting off his sentence. The two of you just lay there in silence for a few minutes, trying to regulate your breathing.

 “now I’m hungry” you say pouting at the emptiness in your stomach.

 “I know the best tteokbokki place that’s open 24 hours, wanna go?” he says and you smile, nodding quickly getting up pulling him with you towards the bathroom to the shower.

[subspencer]

the to-do list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is worried that she’s not adventurous enough in bed. So, she makes a secret checklist of things to try with Spencer. Based on this request.

Category: Smut, 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings/Includes: switch!Spencer, (sort of?) corruption kink, exhibitionism, mile high club, brief description of oral, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of other stuff but no descriptions

Word Count: 3k

Spencer’s girlfriend has a secret checklist. It could be called a bucket list, of some sort, but really all of the items on it pertain to sexual acts to perform with Spencer, on Spencer, or in front of Spencer. So checklist is a more appropriate term.

The list came into existence after a girl’s night game of Never Have I Ever, in which she discovered there was an embarrassing number of things she’d never done. Some of them seemed nearly impossible to have gone twenty-something years without doing, especially when in a committed relationship. That was made abundantly clear to her when the girls pointed it out, teasing her — and by association, Spencer — for being more than vanilla.

There was no real reason she hadn’t tried those certain things — she wasn’t adverse to the idea of most of them at all. Really, it was just that she never bothered to dip her toes beyond what was familiar.

When Emily, Penelope, and Tara had nearly all ten of their fingers down after a couple rounds, she finally realized she might’ve been coming up short in the sex department. She figured it was about time to find out what she’s missing, so she made a list of everything she needed to try. And one by one, she and Spencer checked the items off.

One of the more simple things on the list, and perhaps her favorite, was giving her first blowjob. It wasn’t something she felt compelled to try with any of the guys she’s been with before, and Spencer, though he was very curious about it, was too much of a gentleman to ask for one.

So when she asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and dropped to her knees in front of him, he didn’t stop to ask questions. His mind went blank the second her fingers undid his zipper. It was Spencer’s first, too, and his fingers knotted in her hair as she took him in as deep as she could, hollowing her cheeks around his cock and swirling her tongue as her head bobbed up and down. Spencer always made pretty sounds in bed, but in this instance she envied his memory because she wished she could replay his moans and gasps from that first blowjob all over again in her mind.

Another favorite was allowing the favor to be reciprocated until completion. She figured she might just be someone who couldn’t get off from oral, because though she always welcomed Spencer to go down, she got impatient every time and pulled his head up by his hair, demanding him to fuck her already. Spencer was one to oblige every request, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t overjoyed when one time she never stopped him short.

There were no interruptions, no hands shoving his face away from its rightful place against her, just increasing moans and shaking legs as Spencer was encouraged to give more. She can still remember the half-moon shapes his nails left on her thighs from where he had to grip them so tightly as she rode out her high. And she definitely remembers the almost feral look in his eyes after, because since that first time he insists on doing it again nearly every day.

There were more or less a dozen other items that slowly but surely got ticked off the list.

Handcuffs in the bedroom — fun, but perhaps better saved for special occasions. Or if Spencer was being extra good and deserved a treat.

Various new positions — a reminder to stretch more. And that sixty-nine is not as easy as it sounds on paper.

She let Spencer put a blindfold on her — it was decided they both prefer it more when the blindfold is on him. It keeps him guessing.

Spanking — both of them like this one, either giving or receiving. Surprisingly, she thinks she might like receiving it a little more, and Spencer is always excited to give.

Shower sex — a bit of a logistical nightmare, yet still a weekly staple. It’s slippery, yes, but it’s also relaxing and intimate. And Spencer just enjoys putting his hands on her wet, soapy body.

Sending dirty texts — great, but Spencer prefers taking nude polaroids of her instead. He keeps a few in his wallet for easy access. And because he knows Garcia can’t hack his wallet and find them.

And there were more items that went in the same tune until there was just one left. The one she was most nervous to attempt.

She wondered if joining the mile high club was better or worse if it was on the BAU jet. They’d have ample opportunities to do it, but they’d also be surrounded by their colleagues, and there is no coming back from getting caught.

But the main challenge was convincing Spencer to do it in the first place.

The initial plan of attack was to drop some “subtle” hints. She brought it up for the first time one night in their shared hotel room, right after Spencer fucked her against the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“We could totally do that in the jet bathroom.”

“Yeah, I guess the basics are the same. Cramped space and a ledge to lean on.” Spencer was completely aloof as he picked up the scattered articles of clothing from the floor, rattling off about the size and dimensions of the airplane bathroom and missing the entire point of the comment.

She mentioned it again a little later, hoping the repetition may help him catch the drift.

“What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?” she asked, completely catching him off guard as he ate a breakfast of frosted flakes in his kitchen.

“Um.. I don’t know? You tell me,” he shrugged, knowing that whatever the craziest place was, it was definitely with her.

“What about doing it on the jet?” It couldn’t get more obvious.

“We haven’t done that, silly. OH! I’m gonna say it was in my car,” he nodded with a wide grin, confident in his answer that unfortunately brushed past the proposition far too quickly.

It was time to change methods.

The new plan was to see if she could get him turned on enough on the jet to motivate him to do something about it right then and there. It seemed easy enough.

She sat next to him on the small couch, as she always did, and cuddled up to his side as he read his book.

Once everyone was distracted, she snaked a hand onto his thigh, allowing it to rest there long enough for Spencer to get over his initial shock and relax into her touch. As soon as he let his guard down, she moved her hand up another inch or two, watching him squirm again as he fought his mind from wandering. She repeated that cycle every five minutes until it drove him insane, his willpower diminishing in tandem with the proximity of her hand.

When everyone finally fell asleep, she craned her head to press small kisses on his neck, alternating between quick pecks and lingering ones, sucking warm and wet little flecks onto his skin that drew soft sighs without fail.

“What are you doing?” his breath was raspy and low as he muttered into her ear.

“Nothing.” She kept her tone innocent and sweet as she continued to sprinkle the teasing kisses across the column of his throat.

Her hand finally found its way directly on top of the bulge straining against his slacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Spencer grinded himself into her palm, desperate to feel some friction, his jaw slacked and pupils wide. She dragged a thumb across his length, stopping to rub slow circles over the sensitive tip, drawing out a wet spot at the front of his trousers.

But even with his skin flushed red and his cock leaking and half-near orgasm, Spencer still found the restraint to stop her from jerking him off right on the jet and ripped her hand away, placing it in her lap as if the action could permanently force her to keep her hands to herself.

“I can’t go to the crime scene with cum in my pants,” he hissed, squeezing her wrist tighter.

She smirked at the opportunity, wrapping her warm lips around his ear lobe and tugging with her teeth before whispering with hot breath. “Then put it in me.”

For a second she saw him consider it. His eyes had a dark cast, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips as he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. But then Emily woke up and it was yet another failed attempt.

She resigned to the fact that it just wouldn’t happen, and that the item might remain unchecked on the secret list. So she cleared the idea from her mind, not wanting to keep pushing Spencer toward something he clearly didn’t have an interest in, or to keep embarrassing herself by trying.

And then a couple weeks later, as the team wrapped another case up, she came back to their hotel room to find Spencer sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. When Spencer didn’t respond, she crawled onto the bed behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and attacking the side of his face with kisses, giggling into his messy curls. “I said hey.”

Still nothing. Her eyes followed his line of sight down to his hands and went wide with realization.

“Spencer, where did you get that!?” She tried to snatch the crumpled piece of paper from him, but he was too quick to pull it away.

“I was looking for gum in your purse,” he explained, reading the sheet over again in complete amusement, “but I found something better.”

Spencer was much too excited about it, bordering on smug, and she rolled off the bed away from him in annoyance.

“Is this what I think it is?” She remained silent, suddenly feeling very insecure about the note. “Did you... did you make a list of things to do in bed?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s so stupid.”

“Hey, who said it’s stupid?” He tugged on her fingers, pulling her back onto the bed next to him. “I just wanna know where it came from.”

“Well... when I went out with the girls, we started talking about all the things we’ve done…” she paused to see if Spencer could guess where this was going, and of course he didn’t, “... in bed. And I hadn’t even done half of what they have, so I wrote some of them down. I — I wanted to try them with you.”

“So you… you’ve never done these with anyone else?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he pieced the puzzle together. He looked down again at the discarded sheet laying on pillows, his pride swelling at how long the list was. “I’m the first?”

She nodded in assent and no sooner was Spencer pushing her back flat against the mattress, settling his body on top of hers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he spoke into her neck as he sucked purple bruises into it, allowing his hands to roam freely under her shirt. His nimble fingers made quick work of her bra clasp, pulling the hem of the top up to attach his lips to her exposed nipple. He rolled the other in his fingers, tugging gently as she arched into his touch, rolling her hips up to grind against his. He groaned and pushed back, nestling himself perfectly between her legs.

Suddenly his motions halted and he popped his head up, looking at her with wide eyes and freshly ruffled hair. “We haven’t finished the list yet!”

“I — I didn’t think you were interested in the last one.”

“If my girlfriend makes a list of ways she wants to fuck me, I’m interested.”

A devilish grin took over her face. “Well, we fly home tomorrow.”

And true to the plan, they arrived on the jet the next day with at least a vague sense of strategy: wait until everyone is asleep then go at it in the bathroom. It wasn’t the most elaborate of plans, but there wasn’t much else to think of.

Except for the possibility that the others might not go to sleep.

The flight was already halfway through its journey and everyone was still wide awake, and Spencer was growing incredibly impatient. Perhaps even more than his girlfriend, now that he knew this would be part of a long list of things he got to be her first for.

That fact seemed to encourage him, the thrill of forever being her first at something. Never mind that she’d be his firsts, too.

Spencer’s not stupid, he knows that bending her over the bathroom counter while everyone is awake to hear it is a horrible idea. But his willpower doesn’t extend far enough to stop him from dropping his hand to her exposed knee, rubbing it softly just to be able to touch her. It seemed innocent enough in case anyone might see.

He kept his eyes on the open book he was pretending to read as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt ever so slightly.

He inched his hand up and slowly spread his long fingers apart until they covered the length of her inner thigh. The tips stopping just below her cunt, delicately tracing lines back and forth parallel to the seam of her underwear.

And she quickly discovers there’s no taste worse than your own medicine. There was gentle brushes and concealed touches, all the things that she did to him. But where Spencer would’ve stopped her teasing before it got too far, she wouldn’t have done the same.

She covered up his hands by bringing her own down to her lap, silently encouraging him to continue unseen.

Spencer looked down at her through his thick lashes, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Looking for more confirmation that she wanted this. The answer came in the form of her shifting subtly down the seat, pressing her clothed pussy firmly against his hand.

His cock twitched against the confines of his slacks when he felt the damp patch on the fabric. His knuckles brushed against her clit and her knees clamped shut, holding him in place as she brought her lips close to his ear to let him hear her soft whines.

He has to put his book over his lap to cover how hard he is, and it almost makes him regret starting this game. Almost.

Because just as she starts desperately grinding against his hand, squirming for more friction, he notices that everyone’s asleep. And then it’s a race to the bathroom, Spencer positioning her directly in front of him to cover his bulge as they stand up.

Their mouths are on each other before the door even closes, her hands wasting little time in going for his zipper. Both desperate to have each other after all the anticipation. She immediately perched herself on the countertop, spreading her legs wide so Spencer could fit in between them, just like in that hotel room. A confused whine fell from her mouth when he lifted her off from the ledge, interrupting her plan.

“No. Like this,” he growled, turning her around and pushing her hips against the edge of the counter, bending her over it. She muttered a “Fuck,” under her breath as he pressed his cock against her backside, knowing he preferred this angle because he could get deeper.

His lips trailed down her neck as he tugged the skirt up to her hips and pulled her panties to the side, running his cock along her folds to gather the wetness that had been pooling there.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

He quickly inserted his thumb into her mouth to stop any sounds from escaping before lining himself up. Her moans vibrated against the digit as he slowly pushed in, stretching her out and letting her adjust before starting to move. Slowly and deliberately, at first, then quickly gaining speed.

She pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts until he pinned them against the ledge with his own, holding them still so he could set his pace faster.

The hand that was resting on her waist came up to her chest, groping at the flesh over her blouse. Her spine arched into his palm, bending forward to give him more leverage to get deeper to that spot inside her repeatedly.

He alternated between a few quick thrusts followed by a deep one, holding himself there for a moment before repeating.

Her cunt tightened around him as he held still against her, applying firm pressure to her spot with the head of his cock.

“Fuck, do that again, please,” he grunted against her neck, pushing his hips into her ass with bruising force to get impossibly closer. A loud whine nearly escaped her lips as he did so, the motion sending her over the edge.

She sucked harder around his thumb, using it to keep her cries at bay as she reached her climax. Her walls fluttered around him as she did, giving him exactly what he needed.

“Remember what you said before, baby?” he hummed in her ear, “Do you still want me to cum inside you?”

“Please.”

Immediately his thrusts became erratic, hips snapping forward a handful of times before he spilled into her in hot spurts, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his moan as he came.

Still heaving from the comedown, he pulled her panties back on, using the fabric to keep his cum from spilling out.

She turned to feverishly attach her lips to his, panting into the open mouthed kiss. When they finally broke apart, both looked completely wrecked with swollen lips, flushed skin, bruised necks. Still, they tried their best to fix themselves, straightening out their rustled clothes and smoothing knotted hair.

Before Spencer turned the door handle, he pulled her side into him, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “We should make another list.”

.

.

.

taglist: @suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies

[1kook]

attachment: 1 image

— jjk x (f) reader

summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere. warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true, rating; mature (18+) misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v  wc; 4.6k 

notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩

You’re at work when it happens.

It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.

You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.

You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.

You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.

But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.

It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.

“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.

There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.

But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.

you what’s this about?

You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—

As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.

jungkook♡ what time u get off? jungkook♡ miss you bad baby

Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.

You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.

you 4pm :(

Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.

jungkook♡ fuck jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing jungkook♡ please ?

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.

you seamless black thong you the one you bought me at the last vs sale

Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.

jungkook♡ mm jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?

You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.

Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.

jungkook♡ u soaked those jungkook♡ came fast that day jungkook♡ want u so bad

Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.

you mm you makin me wet bunny

It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.

When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.

It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.

You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.

Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.

Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.

jungkook♡ im so fckin hard jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??

Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.

It doesn’t help.

Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.

you after work you promise

Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.

Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.

The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.

A pleasant surprise awaits.

It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.

But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.

jungkook♡ ??? jungkook♡ ????what is that jungkook♡ baby please jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??

jungkook♡ Missed Call (4)

jungkook♡ baby jungkook♡ what does it mean jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice jungkook♡ fuck please just

And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.

Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.

But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.

Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.

But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.

He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.

“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.

“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.

Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.

“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.

“Uh huh,” he says.

The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”

He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”

Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.

But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.

The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”

He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”

You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”

“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”

A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”

Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”

Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”

“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”

He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”

Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”

“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”

You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.

“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”

The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”

Admittedly, no.

Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.

So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.

“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.

Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”

A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.

“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.

“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.

“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.

You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.

He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.

When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.

“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.

Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”

You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.

Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.

you shift ends in 20

jungkook♡ sweet jungkook♡ got your seat ready jungkook♡ Attachment: 1 Image

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[jasontoddswhitestreak]

fluff prompts 10 & 19 with pietro maximoff would be so cute 🥺

elevator talk

summary: while on a mission with the avengers team you manage to save pietro’s life leading him to want to show his appreciation for you inspired by this prompt list

content warning: pietro maximoff x fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, mentions of blood, set after age of ultron but pietro never dies and civil war doesn’t take place <3

note: i hope i don’t disappoint you with this fluff! i’ve been reading more quicksilver comics recently and this is the outcome of that :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (lmk if you want to see anymore content like this <3)

masterlist

"Remind me again, why did the ENTIRE team need to come on this mission?" You complained, fighting off two grown men while waiting for the signal Tony was supposed to give to tell you it's safe to go inside the building.

"Call it a group bonding session." Tony teased while flying near the building in his Iron Man suit, trying to figure out how to lower the shields. Ever since the fall of SHIELD, it became even more difficult to find the remaining Hydra bases and due to the Ultron situation that occurred a few years ago, the difficulty only increased.

"Could we do a little less chitchat and a little more fighting?" Steve demands, you could hear Cap's grunts through your earpiece, making it obvious that he's struggling to fight off the Hydra goons.

You were a couple miles away from the building attempting to make your way closer to it, the enemies clearly noticed your arrival when they saw a person in red and yellow suit flying pass their windows, easily recognising the well known Iron Man.

And because a huge green angry Hulk isn't exactly easy to ignore.

"Clearly Cap can't keep up with us superheroes." Pietro teased, with a blink of an eye he knocked out the enemies surrounding both you and Steve.

"Thanks for the help Sonic, I'd give you some onion rings but I don't have any on me right now." You joked, smirking at the exasperated speedster that stood in front of you.

"I just saved your life and this is how you repay me Prinţesă?" He feigned hurt, placing his hand over heart.

"Saving her life? That's a bit of an exaggeration even for you Piet." Wanda's voice was heard from the comms, she managed to make her way into the building effortlessly, fighting beside Vision.

"Mind your business Wanda." Pietro scoffs biting back the smile forming on his face, he could hear his sisters laugh through the earpiece.

"As much as I love hearing the two of you argue with each other, now may not be the time." Natasha commented, followed by Clint agreeing.

You sighed, knowing they were right, focusing on the mission instead of the twin in front of you, glancing around at your surroundings. You noticed the enemies lined up behind Pietro preparing for an attack. You would've seen it earlier if it wasn't for the conversation distracting you.

You thought it was too late when you saw the bullet fly through the air, aiming directly at Pietro, it felt as though it was moving in slow motion. The piece of metal cutting through the air making its way to the speedster. Not registering the fact that Pietro had super healing abilities your mind recalled what happened in Sokovia. The bullets going through Pietro in every angle possible. Him falling onto the ground, the colour drained from his face, everyone thought he was dead, Wanda included. That was until the speedster managed to spit out a joke about Ultron's good aim.

You didn't register what you were doing until after you did it. Rushing to protect him from the bullet you pushed him out of the way last minute, the bullet barely missed him, you felt the bullet scrape against your arm instead. Pietro fell to the ground with a yelp as you fell on top of him, wincing due to the pain the bullet caused you.

Steve ran over to the two of you after knocking out the culprit.

"They're both down." Steve states, Pietro shakes his head, attempting to sit up, lifting you up and placing you in his lap comfortably.

"Why'd you do that? You know I can take bullets right?" Pietro scowled, glancing over your body to check for anymore injuries besides the bullet wound, his hands were gentle, brushing over your body in a caring manner as he lets the palm of his hands rest on the sides of your face, holding your face in his hands.

"Now i saved your life." You joked, blushing at the position the two of you were currently in and trying to hide the pain the bullet was causing you. You weren't a super soldier or someone with super healing abilities, so jumping in front of a bullet to save someone that could survive getting shot multiple times wasn't smart thinking on your part.

But you couldn't help it.

You wouldn't say you and Pietro were best friends, you did get along well but the twin refrained from getting close to any of the avengers. Your relationship consisted of teasing each other often and bumping into each other constantly during midnight, resulting in the two of you having your own midnight sessions where the two of you sat in the kitchen drinking hot chocolate.

You reminisced on the last time you had your 'midnight session' with Pietro, not being able to focus on what Pietro and Steve were saying to you, there was a loud ringing in your head, echoing as you closed your eyes to stop the headache that was forming, you felt yourself being lifted up in someone's arms.

Maybe you underestimated how bad the bullet wound was.

"Fine weather we're having don't you think?" You laughed, glancing over at the window, the heavy rain pelted against the glass of the compound, that alongside the wind that sounded much louder in your bedroom made it difficult to even attempt to sleep. You could just barely make out the trees in the distance due to the night sky.

"Didn't think you'd show up tonight, don't you need the sleep before our mission tomorrow?" Pietro questioned. He was facing the stove, you could smell the hot chocolate that was heating up. You made your way next to him, grabbing two mugs and placing them next to him before moving to the fridge to grab the whipped cream.

You swapped positions with Pietro, passing the can of whipped cream to him and grabbing the spoon that was used to stir the hot chocolate.

"Oh wait! I made cookies today, we could have them now!" You remembered, grabbing the plate of cookies from the cupboard and placing it on the table, Pietro immediately reached out for one, and then another.

"I don't know if you know this yet but, I love you." Pietro confesses, grabbing another cookie. You pushed the plate away from him before he could grab another.

"You gotta slow down Piet, don't want you emptying the plate before we even get to have the hot chocolate, now do we?" You grinned and he complains, reaching out for another.

"It's nice to know you care so much about my well-being dragă." You rolled your eyes at the smirk plastered on his face. With the blink of an eye he was stood across from you, closer to the plate of cookies, with another in his hand.

The two of you couldn't stop the smiles that formed on your face, even going to bed in a much better mood than you were in previously.

It was hours after the mission, you were patched up as soon as the quinjet landed at the compound. After a long lecture from Steve and the debriefing, you were finally able to be alone, only wanting to go back your room and sleep for days.

You made your way to the elevator that would take you to your floor, too tired to take the stairs. You attempted to fight back the tiredness, blinking harshly to keep yourself awake, missing the blue streak of a superhero making its way into the elevator and right beside you.

"How are you feeling Dragă mea?" Pietro speaks out after a couple moments, you jumped in shock not realising the speedster was next to you.

"Dammit Piet! What did I say about doing that?" You held your hands over your chest, frightened. He looked at you apologetically before moving to the elevator buttons, pressing the button that stops the elevator from moving.

You stared at him as he sighed, struggling to put his thoughts into words.

"Piet... what's wrong?" You whispered, analysing his face and posture, you could tell he was stressed. He turned to look at you, his face softening when your eyes met.

"I can’t lose you prinţesă." He manages to say, making his way to you, reaching out for your hand.

His hand was warm in yours, he held onto your hand tightly, you looked at him confused, raising your hand to rest against his jaw, your thumb stroking his cheek gently.

“You’re not going to lose me, where’s this coming from Pietro?” You asked softly. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, your head rested against his chest. You could feel his uneven breaths, almost as if he’s on the verge of having a panic attack. Pietro struggled to even out his breath, panic bubbling up inside of him, he can’t lose you. Even the thought of losing you filled him with dread, he doesn’t deserve someone to risk their life for him, especially someone like you.

“How did I manage to get you?” He finally whispers, pulling back to look at you.

That’s when you understood what he was trying to say.

“I don’t want to lose you too, you know? Even the thought of it, it just-” You take a deep breath, smiling solemnly at him. “Every-time we go on a mission I’m terrified Piet, after what happened in Sokovia- after what happened to you. I cant lose you, I care too much about you.” The memories of what happened in Sokovia haunted you. You weren’t close to the Maximoffs then but you understood them, you understood their pain and loss. Similarly to them you had no one, no family, no one to say ‘I love you’ too.

Until now.

“That’s a very complicated way to say you love me, dragă.” He teased, you could see the redness in his eyes from the tears that were threatening to spill.

“Well no one else enjoys my baking as much as you do.” He rolled his eyes in response knowing your referencing the night before, while still holding you in his arms, he reaches out to turn the elevator back on.

No more words were needed to be said, not for now at least. You had each other, and that’s all that mattered to you, for now.

[luminari-mc]

My Human, My Sunshine - Part 1

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Word count: 5194

Summary: Mammon finds himself lost in the human world. Meanwhile, MC can't get ahold of Solomon, their phone dead silent.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: My first writing piece for Obey Me! It's kind of a long one so I recommend you grab a snack or two during it. While this part is occupied by a good amount of text messages between Mammon and someone else, I'm already thinking of writing a part 2 which will have way more dialogue. In the meantime, please enjoy this little scenario I came up with after listening to a song that set me in an angsty mood. :)

______________________________________________________

Wet. Cold. Exhausted. And completely lost.

Mammon felt all of those, and yet, his legs kept on marching into the dead of night, his jacket covering his head despite being too drenched to protect him from the rain anymore. Each time a droplet of water came rolling on his cheek, his wrist would come to brush it off, and Mammon would let out an annoyed groan. If only there were any shops open, but the city was definitely asleep. He was thankful for the crashing sound of the rain on the ground around him, along with the smell of the wet asphalt keeping himself awake, otherwise, he surely would have gone crazy by now. The demon had even lost count of how many hours he had been wandering through the streets, how many mailboxes he had checked, how few passersby he had come across, only to receive negative answers to his questions.

And so Mammon kept on walking, not sure where to go next. But he felt sure of one thing: he wouldn't stop moving until he had found what he was looking for. Be there rain, or no rain. Lost or not.

"Tch, the human world's weather really sucks..."

As he walked on the pavement, his brow furrowed from the lack of new clues as to where his destination was supposed to be. His eyes caught sight of a bakery he had already walked by earlier during the day, its gentle light piercing the darkness that had been accompanying him for far too long now. Mammon's brow furrowed slightly at the sight- he knew he had gone in circles time and time again, but seeing it confirmed once more rubbed him the wrong way. Despite that, he decided to walk towards it, and took shelter under the entrance's porch. Surely the owners wouldn't mind him checking his phone for a few minutes, right? Right.

Pinching between his fingers the precious D.D.D. he had tucked under his shirt to protect it from the rain, Mammon looked at the map again. His stomach dropped for the upteenth time upon seeing the address still showing in his search bar, the letters and numbers taunting him. A knot formed in his throat as he tried his best not to scream at his screen.

"It wasn't there, you idiot..."

His mouth formed into an angry pout. Mammon looked into the list of potential addresses he had made throughout the day, and all had been crossed out. He felt his jaw clench- not only was he left with no addresses, no other clues, no humans to help him, but also that stupid rain surely would keep on falling for the rest of the night.

He was truly cursed.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!" Mammon groaned, his free hand reaching upward to grab at his hair in frustration.

Yes... that was a good question. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could ask help from any of his brothers, or from the angels. It had already been a miracle a witch he knew accepted to snuck him into the human world without anyone knowing, but there was no way he'd get any more help from her without offering his own life in exchange. And contacting Solomon was absolutely out of the question, for his own obvious reasons that he still was suspicious of the guy.

For the longest time in a while, Mammon felt alone. More alone than he had ever been before. He had promised himself to go on this search on his own, stupidly thinking that it'd be over by the end of the day, and look where that got him. Lost in the human world, on the verge of catching some nasty human virus from all this rain that had poured on him, and without anyone by his side.

The grip on his phone tightened, the hand holding it shaking slightly as the anger was starting to consume the demon. Even Mammon's patience had its limits, and he was starting to reach it.

"Dammit, where the hell are ya-"

A pathetic yelp escaped his mouth as he looked in fear at his phone, which had buzzed for a very short second in his palm. Wait, was it a notification? But from who? He had taken all the necessary precautions before leaving, so who was still able to reach his number?

His mind ran through all possibilities as he quickly checked his screen, the name of the sender making him open his eyes wide.

Leviathan: Mammon!!

Leviathan: Where are you???

Leviathan: You promised me you'd play this new game with me after coming home from RAD, don't tell me you forgot?? It's been HOURS.

Leviathan: Also the others say they can't reach your DDD and Lucifer is seriously pissed!

Leviathan: And I know you didn't break your DDD, that wouldn't explain why I can send texts now and the others still can't. Even though mine didn't work before.

Leviathan: But do you know how much time and effort it took me to find a way to bypass a blocked number?? Well guess what, the same amount of hours since you broke your promise!

Leviathan: You're reading this, right? Then send something! Anything!

Mammon backed even more into the porch of the shop, his eyes stuck to the screen of his phone. All of the blood rushing to his head suddenly made him forget he was cold in the first place. Of course Levi would be the first to find a way to contact him.

The demon's chest rose as he breathed in heavily, his hands slowly wrapping around the phone. It took him a hot minute to get ahold of his trembling fingers so as to not make any typos, his mind debating whether responding was a good idea or not, even as he hit the send button.

Mammon: Sorry Levi, gonna have to postpone the gaming session.

Mammon: I got business elsewhere and I'm not sure when I'll come back home, if ever.

Leviathan: Ew stop sounding so gloomy, you're almost starting to sound like me and tbh it would be kinda creepy.

Leviathan: That still doesn't tell me where you are! I know it's like a common thing for you to get into shady stuff on a regular basis but even Lucifer seems concerned, and weirdly enough he's not even trying to hide it???

Leviathan: He's been pacing back and forth in the common room for 20 minutes and won't let go of his phone it's starting to creep me out.

Leviathan: Hey huh, if you really were in big trouble you'd let us know, right? Like, even by typing a secret message to let us know that you got kidnapped or whatever?

Leviathan: Nevermind, I really don't see why you'd even get kidnapped, so it HAS to be that you chose to disappear by yourself.

Leviathan: But anyway! It's been 2 months now since everyone's been acting weird and I've seen and heard you enough to CLEARLY see that you're getting worse but finding trouble with witches or whatever won't help you feel better. And yes I know you've been faking being fine the entire time!! Don't think you can fool me!!

Leviathan: Believe me and the hundreds of figurines I bought!! I thought they'd help and it's somehow doing nothing, I feel like the worst fraud of an otaku EVER!!! How can I call myself an otaku when I can't even find joy anymore in the things that make an otaku what he is??

Leviathan: It's like I'm losing my identity! Wait no screw that, it's not just me, we've all been losing it!!

The three dots of a message being typed disappeared and reappeared, and Mammon couldn't do anything but watch the messages of his brother pop up one after another on his screen. A sense of guilt surfaced inside of him, and it only made him frown. It's not as if he hadn't thought about asking Levi for help, before getting himself into this mess... but for both of their sakes, he had decided that it had to be him coming here, and only him.

But suddenly, just as he expected his brother to send another message, the three dots disappeared, and didn't come back right away. Mammon's focus on his phone increased at the unexplained absence of new texts from Levi, and he waited, expecting him to continue the chain of messages he had started. But nothing followed.

It wasn't in Levi's habits to suddenly stop texting in the middle of a flood of texts. The demon gripped his phone tighter, worry beginning to grow within his mind. Was it because they were in different worlds that their phones couldn't reach properly? Or worse- had Lucifer found him out?

His heart almost skipped a beat as the three dots reappeared under his eyes, before letting another message pop up.

Leviathan: wait

Leviathan: waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait

Leviathan: OMG NO WAY

Leviathan: MAMMON TELL ME YOU'RE KIDDING

Mammon: I literally haven't said anything?

Leviathan: YOU PERFECTLY KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

Leviathan: DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE IN THE HUMAN WORLD RN??

Shit.

How did he even find out?! Well... he could only assume that it wouldn't take a genius to figure out where Mammon could have gone if not anywhere in the Devildom, but still, why did Levi have to type it out? His plan was supposed to be flawless after all.

Mammon: Sorry bro, I can't say where I am.

Mammon: I know Lucifer's bound to check all of your DDDs sooner or later and that's only gonna help him find me.

Mammon: And like I said, I have something to do, so I can't come back.

Leviathan: Wait! I'll delete all of our messages, and I'll even destroy my DDD if it means you tell me why you're there

Leviathan: Actually no don't even answer, there can only be one reason you took that kind of risk

Leviathan: Is it... because of MC?

Upon reading their name again, Mammon felt his stomach sink. The eyes of the Avatar of Greed closed almost instantly as if to avoid reading it, the damp air whistling through his teeth as he breathed in deeply. Of course Levi would figure that out too. Any of his brothers could have.

The demon leaned his head against the wall behind him, his eyes opening and staring into nothing as he contemplated telling Levi about his plan. It wasn't as if he had any backup plans considering the situation he was in, after all. And Levi had the advantage of being at home, and having access to technology and magic that could improve his search further. But the thought of Lucifer figuring everything out still haunted him, making the hair on his skin stand straight.

And yet... At this point, he had nothing else to lose.

Mammon: Ya gotta promise not to tell anyone about this.

Leviathan: Who do you take me for? I'm not a snitch!

Leviathan: Especially if it's about MC.

Leviathan: But huh... what about Lucifer? You know that if when he finds out you went to the human world, he's going to kill you.

Mammon: Fuck Lucifer.

Mammon: I'm tired of hearin' him say he's "taking care of it". He clearly knows something but won't tell any of us and I'm tired of not getting any news from MC since they left the Devildom 2 months ago.

Mammon: And what's with his excuse about them not havin' their DDD anymore to contact us? I call that a load of bullshit.

Mammon: Something weird happened and Lucifer's too stuck-up to let us know what it is.

Mammon: So I'm done waiting around to see when they'll come back, or IF they'll even come back. So I'm going to get them myself.

Mammon: Problem is, I went to MC's place, and they weren't there. Their neighbor told me that they moved out a while ago with, get this, "a guy with white hair".

Leviathan: ??????? Solomon?????

Mammon: I'd bet my Demonio and all the things I possess that it's him.

Mammon: Not only Lucifer's in on this secret thing about MC, but Solomon too. I've already booked him an appointment with my fists if he did anythin' to them.

Mammon: Hell, even Diavolo and Barbatos seem to be in it too, which sucks even bigger time.

Mammon: So that means it's just us 6 who don't know shit. I wasn't about to play nice and dumb for Lucifer any longer.

Leviathan: Mammon

Leviathan: I never thought I'd ever write something like that to YOU

Leviathan: but

Leviathan: you sound super cool rn!! That just makes me wish I could have gone too!!

Leviathan: Pleasepleaseplease let me help!!! I'm also worried about MC and I miss having them here. The atmosphere at the house has sucked ever since we realized we couldn't text or call them anymore and I huh... kinda miss seeing them around the others too.

For a split second, Mammon considered taking a screenshot of Levi's last message to sell it as "the proof that the Avatar of Envy can control his jealousy!", but now wasn't the time for that. He had Levi's approval for helping him find the whereabouts of MC, and that's all he needed at the moment. He hadn't even noticed his lips turning into a small grin upon reading his brother offering his support.

Mammon: Alright Levi listen.

Mammon: All I'm tryin' right now is to find where MC might be.

Mammon: I don't think they left the place I'm at, but I ain't about to search at every damn house there is here. Would take too much time anyway.

Mammon: So can ya use your shut-in powers and figure somethin' out? Like I don't know, catch their human phone's signal or whatever through hacking?

Leviathan: Lol? I'll let you know it's not because I spend my entire days in my room that I know how to find a human phone!

Leviathan: I know how to hack yeah, but I don't know how to hack human technology! Not that I maybe tried once or twice and it resulted in failure each time.

Leviathan: But huh... I could try?

Leviathan: Let me ask Satan if we could use magic too.

Mammon: Satan? Levi, are you stupid? Last thing we want is to get more people to know about what I'm doing.

Leviathan: Oh huh yeaaaah, about that.

Leviathan: I should have told you sooner, but when I stopped answering earlier it's because Satan caught me texting you.

Leviathan: But he actually knew you had left to the human world! So we don't have to worry! He's on our side... obviously.

Mammon: Then the two of you get on it.

Mammon: And don't catch Lucifer's attention.

Leviathan: Yeah!

Leviathan: I'll let you know when we've found something.

Leviathan: BRB!

And then just like earlier, Levi's texts stopped appearing on his screen. A sigh left Mammon's lips as he closed his eyes, and the demon allowed his body to slide against the wall behind him until he was sitting on the ground. As he stretched out his sore body, the second-born finally realized that after two whole months of not getting to hear MC's voice, seeing their smile, getting to touch them... he had gotten closer to finding them, all thanks to his brothers. He had let Lucifer's intimidation get the best of him throughout all this time, but not anymore. No matter whether his older brother would catch wind of where he was, and what he was doing, Mammon would never stop trying to bring back MC where they belonged. With him, in the Devildom, back with the family they had found and grown to love.

Closing the messaging app with his thumb, the picture of MC he had set as his D.D.D. background seemed to radiate like the sun. How dared them all try to separate his human from their first man? From the one who'd they come to whenever they had a nightmare and couldn't fall asleep? The demon who'd hug them as tight as possible in their bed after a long day at RAD? The one who'd had the chance to fall asleep with them, getting the absolute honor of seeing their face so close to his, and who'd protect their dreams from any bad thoughts and scary nightmares?

The anxiety that Mammon had worn on his face all day slowly disappeared, and a small smile was placed upon it instead as his eyes met MC's in the picture.

"I'm almost there. Ya just gotta be patient a little more."

I'll find ya.

Time went on as Mammon waited for any news of Levi and Satan's research. The rain showed no sign of clearing soon, and the demon was starting to doze off after spending his entire day without taking a single break. He could have almost fallen asleep if it hadn't been for the owner of the bakery opening the door to close his shop and asking him to sit somewhere else. So Mammon moved from one spot to another, and took shelter near another store instead.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting on the stone steps he had sat on, his phone's screen flashed a bright light as a new notification from Levi appeared from the top. Quickly passing his wrist on his tired eyes, Mammon tapped on the new message at the speed of light. The contents made him gasp, and for a second, he had almost forgotten how to breathe, as his now wide-open eyes were glued on the content of the message.

A full-on address, along with a picture of the place.

Mammon instantly stood up at the sight of the picture, the memories of his day resurfacing in a flash. He remembered very clearly seeing this particular building sometime during his search- its height had been making it stand out very easily amongst the other buildings in the city. Nobody couldn't mistake it with anything else.

Mammon: This is it?

Leviathan: Yeah, we placed down a map and confirmed it was there.

Leviathan: Satan actually found a book in his room with a spell that can help find a person's specific item with just some of their DNA.

Leviathan: So we went to MC's room and found some hair that Satan used for the spell, along with his phone so it could narrow down the list of MC's items.

Leviathan: I didn't think Satan's room could look even more of a mess, but he spent 10 minutes shoveling through his collection and now you can't even see the floor or his bed anymore lol

Leviathan: Anyway now that you got what you wanted, go and check if MC is there!

Mammon felt his legs move on their own as he flipped his jacket above his head and stepped under the rain again, a confident grin now brightly adorning his face as he typed on his phone to reply.

Mammon: Thanks Levi. I'll owe ya one.

Leviathan: Find MC and bring them back. Then you can consider us even.

Mammon nodded, a newfound hope filling his entire body and mind. After confirming that Levi had ceased texting him, the demon turned the phone off. He opened his hand to drop it on the wet floor, and let his right foot crash down upon it, the object almost breaking in half. Mammon promptly gathered in his hand the shattered item, now completely unusable, and threw it down a nearby sewer before letting his excitement take the best of him and sprint further in the direction of the building from the picture. At least, now Lucifer wouldn't be able to track him down with it if Levi and Satan got caught.

The more distance he covered, the more Mammon could swear he was about to take on his demon form at any moment. The thoughts of MC began to fill his head even more, as if they were the one pushing him to find them, to get to them as soon as possible. For the first time in 2 months, Mammon felt truly alive.

"Almost there. The Great Mammon's coming for ya, MC!!" he let out in the form of an encouragement to himself, his legs having found their energy again as his form was engulfed further into the city.

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

Anxiously pacing around the room, their head low and their phone in their hands, MC was growing more and more impatient. They were supposed to receive an update from Solomon about three hours earlier in the form of a phone call, but no matter the amount of messages they'd spent in the hopes of the wizard finally answering them, all they received was a dreadful silence. Grabbing a nearby chair, they let their body fall onto the seat as their fingers typed yet another message. They couldn't really understand how they had come to grow so persistent when it came to getting Solomon to reply to them, but having no other person to talk to ever since they left the Devildom 2 months prior would do that to anyone, they assumed.

'Solomon, sorry, I know I'm sending a lot of texts, but you said you'd visit today and I'm starting to be worried and... honestly a bit lonely. I thought going out today would help, but I just sat in the park for an hour before going back home and not doing much of the day.'

'You were supposed to meet with other wizards today, right? I hope nothing bad happened. But in case you're alright, all I'm asking is just one reply to at least get some sort of human connection. Not that I had a lot of it in the past few months.'

They felt their throat tighten upon writing their last sentence, feeling the frustration spilling out of their own words right back into their face. But who could blame them?

2 months without seeing, hearing, or even texting their friends back in the Devildom. 2 months without receiving a single visit from Luke or Simeon. 2 months spent exclusively with the company of Solomon, who had been acting strange ever since and had made them move out of their home under the excuse that it was to "train them at magic in a more private setting". But more importantly... those had been 2 months without having Mammon around, and MC would lie if they said they hadn't spent several nights crying themself to sleep, wondering how the demon was dealing with their absence.

The memories of their latest departure from the Devildom played in their head like a movie as they placed a hand on their forehead. Everything had seemed alright at the time, with them getting to say their usual goodbyes to the brothers, wishing to see them again once the new year at RAD would start, foolishly thinking that they'd get to spend their time hearing their voices on a daily basis once they were back in the human world. And before they could understand, their DDD had been taken from them, Solomon had been more present in their life than ever before, and for a reason they still couldn't grasp, it was as if the brothers had vanished from their life completely. No news whatsoever. Complete radio silence.

Just thinking back to this period, and how they could have probably caught that something was up as soon as Diavolo asked for their DDD after the brothers had left... it just made them want to puke.

But nothing could make them want to do so as much as the long-awaited reply of Solomon appearing on their screen.

'Hi MC. I'm deeply sorry I couldn't get ahold of you throughout the day. I won't be able to visit you today, since my services are still required here. Besides, it's getting late. I recommend you go have a good night's sleep as soon as possible.'

'If everything goes smoothly, I should be able to come back tomorrow. Then, we'll be able to go walk wherever you want. How does that sound?'

'I need to be going, but I shall wish you a good night. Take care, MC.'

And just as quickly as he had answered, Solomon went silent again. Leaving them in this apartment they had grown to hate, this prison cell he had put them in. A place where no fun could be found for them. MC didn't even bother sending anything else after that.

Their head sunk even lower, until their forehead slowly met with the hard surface of the dinner table. The phone faceplanted onto the wood as MC's hands turned into hard fists, a deep groan shaking the walls of their throat. It was hard not to let the tears escape their eyes, but instead, they opted to punch the table several times as hard as they could, until they felt their anger diminish.

How long was Solomon going to act ignorant towards them? How long was he going to ignore their pleas to get news from the Devildom, anything that would let them know why they couldn't contact the brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos? Even if the lords had been in some sort of trouble... they'd still find time to talk to their human, right? There was no way Mammon, the one they loved, wouldn't try to reach them one way or another... right?

Him who had been so clingy in such an adorable way every time they'd be at the House of Lamentation, he who had revealed to them that there wasn't a single day where his thoughts wouldn't drift to them no matter how hard he tried...

No. No amount of important duties would explain why Mammon of all demons, would ignore them like that.

They missed his antics. His entire being. The warmth he'd bring them each time he'd hold their hand before tucking his face into their neck like a pouting child, desperately trying to sneak one or two kisses in there, in the hopes he'd get to hear that sweet giggle of them. It wasn't for nothing that Lucifer had come to name them the chaotic duo of the House of Lamentation. They were two parts of a whole.

And yet, the world had dared to separate them. And MC was tired, oh so tired of not having their other half near them. The only feeling they had left, was one of pure desperation to see their greedy demon.

"I'm not asking for much... even a single word would do." MC replied to no one as they turned their head to rest their cheek onto the table. They closed their eyes, the anger slowly being replaced by a profound exhaustion. Could they really do nothing but act normal around Solomon, and accept that this was now their new life? No demons, no angels, just... humans around them?

Before they could slap the thought away, a loud banging coming from the entrance door made them straighten in their seat, their head turning towards the hallway in a panic. Their heart pounded inside their chest as the banging seemed to go on forever, until they used the back of their chair to push themself up, their legs shaking.

"S...Solomon?" They asked, way too silently for anyone to hear, and fully knowing that the person behind the door couldn't be the wizard.

As if they were waiting for an answer, MC stood there, their hand grasped onto the chair. The banging was insistent, demanding, angry. At this time of night, there were few reasons they could think why someone would mistreat their door in such a way, and MC wasn't sure they wanted to find the reason for it.

That is, until the person behind the door finally let their voice be heard.

"Oi, MC! Ya can hear me right?! Come on, open the door!"

It didn't take long for MC to let the familiar voice enter their ears, and it took less time for them to nearly stumble over the chair as their legs moved in a hurry to lead them towards the door as quickly as possible. Their hands messily trying to open the locks on the door, they were sure their mind had just played a trick on them, and the person outside was going to leave them completely disappointed, but they didn't care. This voice they could only remember so well despite the time since they had last heard it, was simply inviting them to open the door, to check for themselves whether it was true, or just a nasty joke played by their brain.

But as the last lock was undone, and the door was swung open, MC couldn't do anything but just stand there, their mouth agape.

Mammon kept on drawing breaths, his wet hair stuck to his forehead and drops of rain falling from his clothes onto the floor below, so much so that it had started to create a small puddle underneath him. As if the person who opened the door wasn't the one he expected, the demon took a step back, letting his eyes wander up and down on the human he had in front of him, almost in an attempt to check if it was really them. He too, couldn't stop his mouth from hanging open at the sight.

The two of them just stood there for a few seconds, taken by so many emotions at once that they weren't sure what to do. But right as Mammon took a step forward, his mouth opening some more to let out words that he so desperately had wanted to say for so long now, MC's face contorted into one of pure sadness before they rushed towards him. Mammon greedily welcomed them into his arms as they jumped and wrapped their arms around his shoulders, and their legs around his waist. They buried their face into his neck, the warmth of their tears mixing with the rain on his skin.

His embrace only tightened even more as they mumbled his name amidst broken sobs, the sound ever so close to his ear that even though he had his eyes firmly closed, he might have cried on the spot too. But he had found them. He had them in his arms again. After what had seemed like a million years, finally, they were back where they belonged, and he was back with his human.

Almost as if they were about to be pulled away from him, Mammon placed a hand on the back of their head, wanting to protect their entire being from harm no matter the cost. He still wasn't sure why it had taken so long for him to reunite with them despite the obstacles, but at the present moment, nothing else could matter.

The lord had finally found them, and he wasn't about to let anyone interfer between their happiness once more.

"I ain't letting you go." He whispered through gritted teeth, his head lowering into their shoulder. "Ever again."

[bluefirewrites]

not sure if u are still taking this but, celebrity/fan au for JUKEE 🤭

Okay this one's a little involved but I got you!

Rated T for mentions of sex and maybe some language

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

******

Julie tugs against the rather short dress Flynn had squeezed her in, not caring for how much she looks like a glorified candy wrapper in the shimmering gold.

She feels like she's some Ferrer Roche, waiting to be devoured.

Which seems to be her intention for tonight because she's insane, and so is her bestie Flynn, because she's supposed to grab the attention of a certain someone in this club.

Her motives for tonight sound like they come straight out of a Wattpad story, but her boyfriend- or well maybe an ex boyfriend now'- forced her hand.

So a year ago, right around the time they started dating, they both disclosed their 'hall passes'. Just a list of celebrities they were both 'allowed' to cheat on their partners with. It was fun. Just to see who the other person would pick. 

It was harmless because the whole point is that these people are so famous, so far out of reach, that the odds of hooking up with them would be essentially impossible.

Nick's was the lead singer of the world famous pop group Dirty Candi. And Julie remembers drunkenly applauding the choice ("She's pretty! Wowww you like them Bubblegum Pop girls?")

They had a laugh that night and Julie doesn't really consider that hall pass conversation all that much since then-

-Until fast forward to last week when Nick disclosed to her that he ran into Carrie Wilson at an event. And then promptly disclosed to her that he invoked his 'Hall Pass' rights.

His rights?! She had exploded at him, and he claims that its no big deal. That he thought she would understand that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, a crazy set of circumstances, and that- 'Holy shit Jules, she was actually into me. Like what?'

Understandably, Julie stormed out and has been staying with Flynn for the time being. And it must have been the haze of crying and watching a lot of true crime series to cheer herself up that she and Flynn concocted this... plan.

One fueled by spite and pettiness.

Get back at Nick, make him jealous, make him feel how she did- by invoking her own 'Hall Pass' rights- 

-which so happens to be Sunset Curve frontman, Luke Patterson... 

"There he is" Flynn whispers from their corner of the club and Julie gulps.

"I don't think I can do this," Julie hisses at Flynn, when they spot him at the bar, nursing a drink with his bandmates like he usually would (they did their research). 

See, Julie’s been a fan of Luke’s for a long time. Ever since she heard ‘Now or Never’ in freshman year of high school, she’s been hooked onto their music- especially Luke and his voice and playing. 

She had their posters on her bedroom wall and had been that girl who would (when no one’s looking) press her fingers to her lips then press them against Luke’s image before going to bed. 

It was that bad. 

And Julie had probably fantasized on more than one occasion of meeting him and all the other scenarios you would picture in a typical Celeb x Reader scenario. 

And she’d like to think she grew out of it, now she’s in her mid-twenties and just casually listens to Sunset Curve, following up on their careers every now and then. 

But you can never really shake your first major celebrity crush. Hence he had been on her so called ‘Hall Pass’ list. 

(”You into rockstars, Jules?” Nick had teased her that night.)

Seeing him there, in the same place as her, is so surreal, but Flynn’s continued pinches to her arm remind her just how real this is. 

“This is ridiculous,” Julie crosses her arms, ready to bow out because what is she thinking? Why would Luke Patterson pick her up, of all people, at the bar? It’s like a supermodel runway in here, filled with girls more accomplished and famous. Her confidence is shaken a bit and she rethinks everything. 

"Nick didn't seem to have a problem when he did it," Flynn points out, “And girl, you look great. He would be blind to not want you.” 

The mention of Nick still boils her blood, which only reaffirms her plans for revenge. She’s still nervous but they both stand up from their booth and walk over to the bar. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend,” 

“No. You’re musician extraordinaire, Julie Molina! The world may not have heard about you, but they will one day. I bet that’s something you can talk to him about. Music? Lyrics?” 

Julie could use her songwriting credentials to her advantage, “I mean I guess-” 

“Quick, he’s getting up!” 

“Flynn, wait I’m not-” 

With a forceful push, Flynn sends Julie into the path of Luke Patterson, colliding into him and effectively spilling his drink all over her dress. 

“Oh my god,” Luke gapes at her, “I am so sorry-” 

Julie fans herself, shaking slightly from the fact she’s drenched and also that her freakin’ high school celebrity crush is looking at her, actually talking to her. 

But she recovers quickly, and she speaks, “It’s fine. Really. I guess I’m just... clumsy.” She shoots a glare at Flynn, who merely winks and retreats to their booth. 

Luke grimaces and takes her by the hand, leading her somewhere, napkins in his other hand, “Here, let’s get you cleaned up. Again, I’m sorry. Hate to ruin a pretty... dress.”

It’s the way he eyes her that catches Julie off guard. He’s... not talking about the dress, is he? 

Julie reels it back in tries her hand at a joke, “I wouldn’t call this a dress. I feel like fancy leftovers in this thing.” 

Luke stifles a laugh, “Okay, I mean I wasn’t gonna say anything but yeah. I guess it’s a bit tin foil-y.”

“Not your style?”

His gaze drifts over to her one last time, “Well, any way to take a meal back home is fine by me. I mean-” Luke scrunches his nose, wincing, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that. Shit. That was too... much. Are we-” he laughs nervously, “Are we still... talking about food?”

“Unless you just called me a meal. Then no.” 

The look in his eyes say that he’s absolutely mortified, “...yeah. I think I did. I was hoping that was a nightmare.” 

“Nope, it definitely happened,” 

“Feel free to slap me,” 

Julie giggles, somewhat delirious because she hasn’t tried to flirt with him but here Luke is, flirting with her. Or trying. And failing. Like a far cry from the suave rockstar she had pictured him to be. 

“No need. Just, can you-?” she points to the napkins he’s holding hostage. 

“Oh yeah. Here,” They stop in front of the coat check, and he hands her the napkins so she could try herself off with the best she can.

Suddenly, a weight falls onto her shoulders, she looks up and sees Luke draping a jacket over her- his presumably. 

“You looked cold,”

Julie wraps the jacket tight against her, relishing in the warmth, “Wow, thanks.”

Luke smiled and stepped back, “Just so you know, if I made you feel weird in any way, I’d like to throw out my third ‘sorry’ of the night. Nothing has to happen though. So, just say the word and I’ll leave you alone.”

Whew. Um, okay. Julie stands there, faced with this decision. 

The compliments aside (she will revisit those later), Luke’s giving her an out. Any reservations she has about moving forward with this plan, this is her chance to leave. 

She could just treasure these amazing few minutes for the rest of her life. This could be a story to tell friends at a dinner party, about the time a rockstar lent her his jacket. Would be up there with the time Jack Black passed her on the street and said “Nice hat!”. 

But-

Maybe she wants to see where this goes. 

“All this talk about food is making me hungry though...” she says and Luke lights up, “I could go for a bite to eat.” 

Luke snaps his fingers, “I know just the place.” 

*******

Half an hour later, Julie and Flynn are in a smelly alleyway with the guys from Sunset Curve, in line for a street dog cart just a couple blocks away. 

“An Oldsmobile?” Julie gawked after hearing Luke and the guys describe the delicacy, “Are you trying to poison me?”

“I swear by it,” Luke insists, taking her hand and moving them up in the line. Flynn sees this and doesn’t comment, but Julie’s starting to get used to Luke doing that, “You have to try!”  

Julie doesn't know when she got over her initial starstruck, but by now its so easy to treat Luke like a regular person.

Well, celebrities are all regular people in the end, but more so now that he and his friends, have their sleeves rolled up, smiles wide, ready to dig into what may be the most disgusting hot dog she has ever seen.

Julie takes a bite out of hers and her eyes widen. Wow. It's not terrible.

"Ayy! We got another one, boys" Reggie laughs, noting her reaction.

"Told ya" Luke needles her sides and she giggles, ticklish. Her knee jerk reaction is to playfully shove him, but in the process accidentally smeared some mustard onto his face.

Luke goes to lick it off with his tongue, making funny faces as he did which amused Julie even more.

"Here," she takes a napkin and wipes at his cheek, "Now we're even."

The whole group gets to talking over by the couches, while Flynn chats up the other boys, Julie and Luke are sequestered in their own corner, and yes, eventually the topic switches to music.

"Wait, so you know Rose and the Petal Pushers?" Luke chokes out, "Like everyone I talk to hasn't heard of them!"

"Yup. Have their record actually" Julie beams proudly, censoring out the part that its her mom's band and hence she has one of the few records ever released.

Luke is floored by that and continues to poke her brain for music and Julie finds that their spiels go on naturally, that she could probably talk with Luke for hours and hours.

Which ends up happening. Flynn had already made her escape, having texted her to come home safely, the boys had gone too, leaving them in the nearly empty lot.

When the food truck closes down for the night, they end up taking a stroll down the streets of L.A, talking and getting to know each other.

Julie learns so much about Luke, things she's never heard about from the press- like his songwriting practice, that he cries at Finding Nemo, and that he can do a cartwheel only when drunk.

And in return Julie shares with him her crazy college stories, how she misses her mom sometimes, and that she is encyclopedia of commercial jingles (a fact Luke exploits by rapidly quizzing her at random moments)

Somehow they end up near the beach, with Julie pointing out the different stars she could see, but finds that Luke isn't looking at the sky.

"Hey, Julie..." He gets her attention, "I had a really good time tonight."

"Me too"

"So... would it be alright, if I kiss you?"

Julie's mouth parts, speechless. It happened. Holy shit it happened or... is happening. She has Luke exactly where she wants him.

She could only nod and Luke takes it as the sign to lean in, but just as his lips is about to brush against hers, she freaks-

"Wait" she steps back. Luke opens his mouth, "No. No more 'sorry's from you. This one's one me. I'm sorry but... this- this" She sighs, "I have to be honest with you."

Then she tells Luke everything- Nick, The Hall Pass, her plans for tonight- basically admitting to using him.

When she's done, she expects for Luke to get angry, to leave in a huff and never want to see her again.

That's not what happens.

"This Nick guy sounds like a piece of work" he says.

Julie nods slowly, "Yeah... I guess he was. So maybe that's why I did it. But I don't think I could have gone through with it. Like I don't think we're together, me and Nick but-"

"You wouldn't want to do what he did. Because you don't want to hurt people," Luke surmises, understanding, "And by doing that, that means you're a better person than he is."

"I guess"

"No Julie, you're a good person" Luke insists, "Man, I think that makes me like you even more."

Julie laughs, "God, if my high school self could see me now..."

"You were a big fan?"

"I'm not having this conversation right now with you,"

"Okay cuz now you got me curious-"

Julie swats his shoulder but it doesn't deter the guy from snickering.

On a more serious note though-

"I think..." Julie hums, "I think this means that I got some stuff to work through. Before I could start considering... this."

"I understand"

"But thank you... Luke. For tonight"

"It's been real, Julie,"Luke smiles and pulls her in for a half hug, "And you should keep the jacket. Looks better on you anyway."

****

Julie goes back to Flynn's that night and her bestie's still awake, wanting all the deets. But there's not much to tell. Nothing happened.

She shrugs off the jacket and resigns to the couch, not caring that her makeup is still on. She's about ready to pass out.

Her phone dings.

She pulls it out and sees two notifications.

luke_patterson is now following you

luke_patterson is requesting to message you.

Curious, she accepts the request.

'here if you want to talk, Tin Foil :P'

Julie rolls her eyes and collapses onto the couch, sleeping with a smile on her face.

She doesn't know it now, but the oncoming years would be filled with more messages back and forth, meetups with their friends for more shady street food, building a solid foundation of friendship and eventually, when Luke asks again if he could kiss her, Julie would eagerly prop herself on her toes to close the gap.

Yeah, Julie's high school self would definitely be screaming...

[zukkaoru]

for the 100 ways to say i love you

zukka with "i brought you an umbrella"?

if i got this idea from texts i got from corey @that-was-anticlimactic the other day, no i didn't ❤

( prompt list )

"I brought you an umbrella." word count: 1376 warning: brief mentions of medicine, just in the first two paragraphs under the cut

Sokka watches a bolt of lightning split the dark sky though the window, but the white noise of the dining hall muffles the following thunderclap. His hand makes its way down to his knee, which has been aching all day. Not bad enough that he’s having trouble walking where he needs to go, but enough to be frustrating.

Of course, the ache in his leg might have been worth it if he’d listened to his body’s way of telling him it was going to rain.

Unfortunately, he’d ignored it, because how was he supposed to know why his old injury was acting up today? It just does that whenever it feels like.

Regardless, now he’s stuck in the dining hall across campus from his dorm building and he definitely did not bring his umbrella with him because he’s an idiot who doesn’t bother checking the forecast before leaving.

“You good?” Suki asks, her fork halfway raised to her mouth. “I’ve got pain meds in my bag if you think that would help?”

Sokka shakes his head. “I already took some. I’ll be okay, I just… forgot my umbrella.”

Suki’s eyes widen, and she drops her fork back down into her pasta. She turns to look at the window behind her. “Sokka! It’s pouring!”

“I know!” he groans, burying his head in his hands. “I’ll be fine, I’ll just take a hot shower when I get back and that will cancel out the cold. Right?”

“You’re the science major; you tell me if that’s how it works.”

Sokka looks up at Suki, hoping she can see the annoyance in his face before he starts speaking. “Computer science and thermodynamics do not have as much in common as you must think.”

Suki shrugs. “You say that like I even know what thermodynamics means.”

Sokka scoffs. “Whatever.” He glances out the window just in time to catch another strike of lightning and huffs as he pulls his phone out. If Suki won’t give him any sympathy, then maybe Zuko will.

(Then again, this is the guy that said That’s rough, buddy when Sokka told him the only two girls he’d dated had both dumped him and were now dating each other, so maybe Zuko isn’t the best person to go to for sympathy either.)

“Let me guess,” Suki drums her fingers on the table, “you’re texting your boyfriend to complain that I’m being mean to you.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Sokka grumbles, ignoring the heat in his cheeks from Suki’s jab. How does she always know exactly what to say to get to him? It’s not fair.

Suki hums. “So that’s a yes then. Tell Zuko I say hi.”

Sokka ignores her.

The point of them getting dinner together was not so Suki could taunt him about his crush on his roommate; it was so they could catch up since they haven’t spoken to each other in weeks despite going to the same school. They’d both been swamped with homework because of midterms, and this is their first weekend where they’ve had a moment to just breathe.

Of course, Sokka probably should have expected that Suki would want to hear about any new developments with Zuko.

Not that there are developments to speak of. Because Sokka’s infatuation is entirely unreciprocated and he’s completely okay with that because he’s getting over it. He appreciates having Zuko as his friend, and he’s not going to let some stupid, childish, crush ruin that. Which is why he’s shoving any romantic feelings away until they dissipate because it’s really not that serious, regardless of what Suki might say.

Or, it’s not that serious until twenty minutes later, when Suki nearly choked on her drink before asking, “Is that Zuko?”

Sokka whips his head around before he can stop to think maybe it’s just a prank so Suki can embarrass him.

It’s not though - Suki was right. That’s Zuko walking straight for their table, his hair and jacket damp from the rain. He smiles and picks up his pace when he catches Sokka’s eye, and despite his confusion, Sokka feels himself grinning back.

“What are you doing here?” Sokka asks as Zuko approaches he and Suki’s table. “I thought you already ate?” Not to mention the fact that it’s still pouring, and there are, like, three dining halls closer to their dorm than this one is.

Instead of answering Sokka’s question, Zuko holds something out towards him. “I brought you an umbrella.”

Sokka blinks at Zuko, and then looks down at the object in his hand. It is, in fact, an umbrella. It’s black with a deep red design on it, and Sokka doesn’t recognize it. Zuko’s still holding another umbrella in his other hand - his own plain black umbrella that’s still dripping from the rain.

“What?” Is the only thing Sokka can think to say.

“I brought you an umbrella,” Zuko repeats. “I didn’t know where yours was, so I just grabbed the one Azula left when she and Iroh visited last month. She told me to just keep it and she’d get a new one, so,” he shrugs. “You don’t have to worry about her, like, murdering you for using it or anything.”

Hesitantly, Sokka reaches out and takes the umbrella from Zuko, half-expecting it to disintegrate as soon as he touches it. But it stays firm and real in his hand as he turns it over, inspecting it. “Did you…” he looks up at Zuko. “Did you walk across campus in the rain just to bring me this?”

Zuko flushes and looks at his feet. “You said you forgot yours, and it’s supposed to rain like this all night. I didn’t want you to have to walk back without one.”

All Sokka can think is Oh.

Oh, Zuko cares about him a lot more than Sokka has given him credit for.

And Oh, Sokka’s feelings for Zuko are a lot stronger than Sokka has given them credit for.

“What?” Zuko asks, glancing back up at him.

Sokka swallows thickly. “Nothing. I just… Thank you.” And Sokka isn’t naive enough to think Zuko can read the I love you behind his words, but some part of him hopes he understands everything Sokka isn’t saying.

(And how crazy is it that Sokka’s wanting to confess love over something as trivial as an umbrella? It’s a good thing Suki can’t read his thoughts right now, or she’d never let him hear the end of it.)

Zuko offers him a small smile and shrug. “It’s not that big of a deal. I didn’t have anything else going on tonight. Besides, I was thinking I could get something from Starbucks while I’m here or something.”

Sokka won’t call Zuko out on the obvious lie. The only time Zuko ever drinks Starbucks is when someone else drags him there. He’s told Sokka on multiple occasions that spending his high school years working at his uncle’s tea shop has ruined him for any sort of coffee chain. The drinks just aren’t made with the same care at a chain like Starbucks as they are at a locally owned café, Sokka.

“Well I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” Zuko responds in a small voice. He clears his throat and kicks the leg of Sokka’s chair. “Don’t stay out too late; you have class at ten tomorrow. I’ll see you later.”

“I won’t,” Sokka promises as Zuko turns to leave. “See you later. If you’re not asleep by the time I get back!”

Zuko throws a glance over his shoulder, glaring at Sokka. “If I’m asleep by the time you get back, that means you stayed out too late.”

“No, it means you’re a wuss who can’t stay awake past eleven.”

Zuko responds by flipping Sokka off, and then walking out of the dining hall without looking back again. Even after Zuko’s walked out through the door, into the rainy night, Sokka can’t shake the smile from his face.

“Wow,” Suki says, shaking Sokka out of his Zuko-induced serenity. “And people say Suki and I were bad before we finally got together.”

Sokka frowns, turning back to Suki and sticking his tongue out at her.

But not even Suki’s taunting can erase the warm, fuzzy, feeling spreading through Sokka’s chest.

[stolen-pen-name23]

for your prompts list, how about #3 for obi-wan & anakin & padmé?

Oh boy, it's been a hot minute since I answered my prompts! Apologies for the delay, I've been kept quite busy these days!

Prompts now closed // from these angst prompts

Here ya go:

---

A cold drop of water lands on Obi-Wan’s head and a shiver racks his frame. Obi-Wan grimaces and hopes he didn’t stir Anakin from his light and much-needed sleep. The young knight had finally fallen asleep with his head on Obi-Wan’s shoulder after hours of pacing around their tiny little cage in anger and frustration. The movement, much to Obi-Wan’s displeasure, was enough to shake Anakin from sleep. He lifted his head up.

“Master?” he asks, his voice hoarse from sleep and from all the shouting he had been doing earlier. “Where are—” Anakin cuts himself off as realization appears to hit him. He scrambles back to his feet and begins pacing again. Obi-Wan sighs.

“Hey!” Anakin shouts. “You can’t keep us here! The Republic is going to come for us and you’re going to pay!”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says softly.

“Do you hear me? You’re going to pay for keeping us here!”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says more forcefully. “Please stop yelling.”

“No! They can’t keep us here, we’re Generals in the Grand Army of the Republic and this is a neutral planet.”

Obi-Wan winces as Anakin’s words echo off the walls. His head is pounding and he just needs Anakin to shut up for just a little while. “Anakin…” Obi-Wan says. “Please just for five minutes…”

The pleading tone of his voice gets Anakin’s attention. “Master?” he asks, concerned. He kneels next to Obi-Wan. “Are you all right?”

Obi-Wan hums, trying to fight off the nausea from what he is sure is a minor concussion at best. “You’re so loud. Give it a rest.”

“But…”

“As you said,” Obi-Wan says, “this is a neutral planet. They will realize this is a mistake and that we are being held here on accident. They don’t want problems with the Republic.”

“What if they’ve actually partnered with the Separatists.”

“That’s a possibility. But either way, I think the Republic is already looking for us.”

“But how—”

“We haven’t checked in anywhere in what? 48 hours at least? Maybe more? Someone will have noticed by now.”

Anakin looks slightly more at ease. “Does anyone know where we are?”

“Cody knows we were coming here. I’m sure he’s already contacted the Council.”

“We’re saved,” Anakin says sarcastically.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan admonishes.

“What? They are so slow at decision-making. They have to deal with all this red-tape in the senate and their own internal debates and yeah, I think we’re going to be stuck here for a little while.”

“Then be a little more patient, would you? Conserve your energy Anakin, you don’t know how long we’re going to be here or how they’re going to treat us.”

The pair of Jedi had been given water, but no food. Obi-Wan feels too nauseous to eat even if there was food available, but from experience, he knows Anakin does not exactly do well with skipping meals.

Anakin huffs and sits back down next to Obi-Wan. He leans his head back on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“Talk to me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says softly. “Tell me what’s going through your head.”

“I just—” Anakin hesitates.

“It’s all right. You can tell me,” Obi-Wan says.

“I just want to go home,” Anakin says quietly. All of the anger has left his voice. He sounds like the scared Padawan he was when Obi-Wan first took him under his wing.

Obi-Wan finds Anakin’s hand and squeezes it. “I know,” he says. “Trust in the Force, Padawan.”

Anakin looks at him quizically. “Are you doing alright, Master? You haven’t called me that since… well, since you knighted me.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says. “Forget I said it.”

“No, it’s okay. It just took me off guard,” Anakin says. “How’s your head?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“So not good, huh?”

“No, not good, but I’ll manage.”

“Do you think we’ll get out of here soon?”

“Depends,” Obi-Wan says. “Why don’t you just try to sleep?”

“I’m hungry,” Anakin complains.

“Then meditate with me. We’ll take your mind off of it.”

Anakin huffs out a breath. “Fine. Nothing better to do anyway.”

Obi-Wan coaches Anakin through some of the breathing exercises he knew worked best with him. He can sense Anakin calming slightly.

“Just go to sleep,” Obi-Wan whispers. Anakin’s breathing evens out and his eyes flutter closed.

Obi-Wan tilts his head back and hopes he’ll remain asleep just for a little while. As much as Obi-Wan would like to sleep too, he knows he probably shouldn’t with a potential concussion. He resolves to meditate instead.

But try as he might, Obi-Wan still dozes off. He doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until Anakin is shaking his shoulders.

“Do you hear that?” Anakin asks, excitement dripping off his question.

Obi-Wan lifts his head and listens. A loud banging sound erupts from the hallways, followed by the sound of blaster fire.

“Now I do,” Obi-Wan says. Anakin stands and hovers at the edge of the ray shield, so close Obi-Wan fears he’ll touch it. “Do you see anything?”

“No, not yet,” Anakin says. “Wait! A guard just got shot, he fell over.”

Obi-Wan looks over with mild interest.

“Oh, another guard just fell! Wait… is that?” Anakin stops and squints. His eyes widen in shock. “Padmé?”

Padmé takes out the last guard and rushes over to their cage. She presses a button and the red ray shield in between them dissolves.

“Ani,” Padmé breathes, running up to him and putting her hands on his chest. “Are you okay? You’ve have been missing for two days.”

Padmé runs a hand through his tangled curls and runs her eyes over his body.

“I’m fine, Padmé. I’m just glad you’re here.”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. “I’m also fine if anyone cared to ask,” he mutters.

Anakin flushes, but Padmé is unphased. “Master Kenobi,” she says good-naturedly. She extends a hand to him and helps pull him to his feet. “It’s good to see you.”

“The feeling is more than mutual, Senator,” Obi-Wan says. He looks around. “Did you come here alone?”

“Yes,” Padmé answers simply. “I thought it best to be discreet.”

“Padmé!” Anakin exclaims. “Did you really just take on all those guards by yourself?”

“I had my blaster!” she retorts.

Anakin scoffs and Obi-Wan just offers her an impressed smile. “Only you, Senator,” he says.

“It’s my duty to serve the Republic. I think saving two of its best Generals is a good way of serving it.”

“Not that I’m ungrateful for you being here,” Obi-Wan says, “but how did you even know to come here? How did you find us?”

“Cody contacted me. The Council was moving too slow for his taste,” Padmé says. “So he found me and we worked out a plan. He’s flying the getaway shuttle.”

Anakin smirks. “I told you they were too slow. Even your Commander agrees.”

“No matter. Let’s just get out of here.”

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Padmé digs around in a small satchel that she has slung around her shoulders. “Here.” She hands them their lightsabers.

Obi-Wan lights up at the return of his weapon. He always felt naked without it. Vulnerability was never a pleasant feeling for him.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoes through the hallway. “I’m guessing you didn’t kill all of the guards?” Obi-Wan asks.

“Not quite. I was hoping you two could help with that?”

“Senator,” Obi-Wan says. “It would be my pleasure.”

Obi-Wan and Anakin ignite their sabers and with Padmé at their side, they charge down the hall.

[angryschnauzer]

Just What I Need

Summary; Working in a coffee shop you meet all sorts of people, but one customer in particular is always friendly, a local Detective from the nearby precinct. When one night he orders through a delivery service rather than in store, you get more than a tip when you make the delivery.

Fandom; Nomis (Night Hunter) Movie, Henry Cavill

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x Female Reader (no race or size specified)

Trope: Coffee Shop Meet Cute

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Flirting, Masturbation (male), Oral Sex (female recieving), unprotected sex, Vaginal Sex, Snowstorms.

I do not operate a tag list but instead please pop over and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, then you’ll get an alert every time i post a new story. My Masterlist got too long and tumblr ate it, so all my past stories can also be found on my AO3, link HERE

A/N: I am considering expanding this story, depending if people like it and want me to? Let me know! <3

Just What I Need

 Running the steam through the coffee machine you wiped the nozzle and smiled, there were just fifteen minutes until closing and the coffee shop you worked at was all but abandoned. Just your manager in the back counting the cash takings, and you were getting ready to box up the remaining muffins and cookies for the homeless shelter volunteer to collect dead on closing time.

 You didn’t mind working the late shift, in fact you preferred it over the early shift opening up at 7am. The 7am crowd were grumpy, rude and always in a rush. The 7pm customers were tired, quiet, and always thankful for whatever caffeinated delights you provided them with.

 The bell over the door rang as it opened and you looked up over the cups that were stacked on top of the machine, smiling at you saw the weary familiar face coming towards you;

 “Good Evening Detective” you smiled as the beast of a man stood at the counter. His face softened as he saw you, his shoulders dropping a little as he relaxed.

 “Hey… Sorry I’m in so late… you’re still open, right?”

 You glanced at the clock;

 “Another ten minutes. What can i get you?”

 You watched as he cast his gaze up to the handwritten chalkboard menu’s above the counter;

 “You got any Chilli left?”

 “Sure, a couple of pots in the fridge. Want me to warm it up?”

 He paused for a moment, as if trying to process the most technical question through his tired mind;

 “No… yes… urghhh…” he took a deep breath; “Yeah… if you wouldn’t mind. I’m so fuckin’ tired i think I’d burn my apartment down if i tried to use the stove”

 “Sure thing” you said with a smile as you got to work.

 You made small talk as you prepared his order, pulling out the sides and condiments that came with the Chilli meal;

 “Hey, you want a free muffin?”

 “I’m not really into sweet things this late at night… what flavours you got?”

“How about an Apple Cinnamon? It’ll last overnight and still be fresh enough for breakfast”

 The Detective smiled and nodded, pulling his wallet out as you finished bagging his order and rang it through for him, paying before you handed the bag to him;

 “Have a good evening Detective”

 As he turned he smiled at you;

 “Call me Walter”

 -

 Three days later and you were on the late shift again. Again it was quiet, just the soft sound of tyres driving through slushy snow outside the only noise since around 6pm as just a couple of customers nursed steaming mugs of coffee from their window seats. You saw the big silver truck pull up in the space outside the coffeeshop and smiled, there was only one customer that drove a truck that huge and if you were being honest with yourself you were developing quite a crush on the curly haired Detective.

 The moment he walked through the door you were smiling at him;

 “Detective” you greeted him happily

 “Didn’t i say to call me Walter last time i was here?”

 “I like Detective, has a nice authority ring to it” you said with a wink; “What can i get you tonight?”

 He paused for a moment, and as you reached for a notepad to jot down his order you missed the slight eyebrow raise and smirk at what you’d said before he cleared his throat;

 “What have you got that i can eat in my office without facing the wrath of my Lieutenant for making the department stink?” he said with a grin as he leaned on the counter.

 “I got Mozzarella and Pesto Subs? Tuna Melt?”

 “Tuna is a no. The case isn’t going well, no fish. Gimme two Mozzarella Subs, and the largest black coffee you do”

 “Sure thing. I’ll put a fresh pot on and get those sub’s on the press”

 As you started to prepare his order his phone rang, and you couldn’t help but to listen in;

 “... i’ll be like five minutes, i ain’t eaten all day… yeah ok… i’ll grab a box…”

 He hung up and nodded to the cakes;

 “Can i get a dozen muffins to go too? Got some grunts that are jealous that i got to escape the paperwork…”

 “Sure thing”

 Loading a box you picked what you knew were the best flavours and the freshest bakes;

 “You know, we’re on Uber Eats. As much as its nice to see a friendly face, we can deliver to the Precinct”

 “I… I have no idea what that is…”

 “Its a food delivery app. Here, give me your phone…”

 He unlocked it and set it down and rested his elbows on the counter as he watched;

 “You go to the app store and just download it. Put in your location and it’ll bring up nearby eateries and you can search for us. It has all the standard menu on. Save your card details or link it to paypal, and its super easy, it even keeps you updated when the order is being prepared or its out for delivery”

 He smiled as you pushed the phone back to him, locking the screen and pushing it back into his tight jeans;

 “That’s all well and good, but then i wouldn’t get a chance to see my favourite coffee shop girl now, would i?”

 You leaned forward and grinned, keeping your voice low;

 “Order between 6.45 and 7pm and i snag the deliveries and do them on my way home”

 -

 Walter pushed the key into the lock, opening the door to his apartment and groaning as his body ached from tiredness. He should be elated, they caught the killer, the evidence was logged and couldn’t be disputed… and yet he was tired to his core. He’d been at his desk for longer than he’d been home, and when the Lieutenant had finally ordered him to go him a little after 5pm, it had still taken him the better part of an hour to finish up and leave the building. 

 Shutting the door behind him he felt his stomach rumble. He didn’t even need to look in the fridge to know it was completely empty, devoid of anything even vaguely edible. Checking his phone he saw that it was a little after 6.30pm and a thought fired across his mind, a smile forming. Fifteen minutes later he’d added far more to his online basket than he ever would have done in store, but for the first time he was able to see exactly what the creations were whereas in the store it was just a big pile of weird looking cakes and bakes. By 6.50pm he’d entered his card details and completed the order, the little update screen stating delivery would be by 7.30pm, just enough time to grab a shower, after all if it was you that would deliver, he should probably shower for the first time in 72 hours having rushed out of the apartment three mornings in a row due to new leads in the case.

 The shower was far too enjoyable to rush, and after he’d washed his hair he started on his body, soaping over his chest and stomach before he paid extra attention to his dick. The anticipation of just the possibility of seeing you had him hard in seconds, and resting his head back against the tiled wall he quickly worked his hand over himself. He got lost in the moment, his mind taking him to places it shouldn’t, imagining his hand was yours, thinking about that time he saw you wearing over the over the knee knit socks and a skirt, how your ass was the perfect roundness, how your lips would look stretched around his dick… he came with a groan, thick white ropes falling to the shower floor as every ounce of stress left his body, his body shuddering when he was finally spent.

 He was halfway through drying himself when he heard a knock at the door to his apartment, he eyes going wide when he saw it was 7.20pm;

 “Fuck!”

 He’d gotten carried away in the shower, and now he had to quickly rush to wrap a towel around his waist as a second knock came just as he reached the door, taking a deep breath before opening it and seeing you standing on the doorstep shivering in your padded coat, holding two takeout bags;

 “Hey! Come in, come in, Jeez its freezing out there…”

 Stepping into the apartment you couldn’t help but to look him up and down, attempting to hide your reaction as you could clearly see the distinct outline of something rather large bulging against the fabric of the fluffy white towel;

 “Hey D-d-detective… Y-y-yeah it’s d-d-dropping fast out t-t-there… radio s-s-said it was g-g-gonna be a wind chill of minus t-t-twenty nine by eight o’clock… what a n-n-night to have my b-b-bike, huh?” You carefully dropped the two bags onto his coffee table as you spoke.

 “You cycled here? On that pedal bike that is always chained up outside the coffee shop?” he asked incredulously, immediately forgetting his current state of undress. Shutting the door he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest; “You’re gonna stay here until you’re warmed up, i’m gonna make you a hot coffee and to warm you up from the inside too...”

 “I ain’t gonna complain to that” you mumbled, your face pressed to his chest as you suddenly melted against him, warming your cheek against his firm muscles before turning your head to warm the other one and he let out a little gasp as your cold hands pressed against his sides.

 “I also said for you to call me Walter…” he said quietly.

 Pulling your head back you smiled at him;

 “Thank you, Walter. You’re the best… though you’re the first delivery i’ve made where i’ve been greeted by someone in just a towel”

 “Sorry, let me go put some clothes on…”

 You tighten your grip around his waist;

 “I wasn’t complaining…”

 There was no poignant pause, no longing gazes, his lips met with yours and the kiss was fierce and hungry. He was pushing your coat down your arms and you reluctantly released your hold from his waist to let it drop to the floor, your sweater following soon after. Your lips met again and he was lifting you, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hand rested on your ass beneath your skirt as he walked you through the apartment before dropping you on his bed.

 He was pulling your boots off your feet as you scrambled up the bed, your hands reaching for your thigh high socks when he suddenly caught your hands in his;

 “Leave those on…”

 You paused and grinned, before his lips met yours again and he was on top of you, his hands sliding up your skirt and bunching it around your waist as he pressed a trail of open mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts and over your stomach, before briefly lifting his head enough to pull your panties down your legs and toss them aside.

 As he lowered his mouth to your core his gaze was intense, vivid blue shining through the dim light of his bedroom, his tongue pushing through your soaked petals and parting them as his beard brushed against your skin, heightening all of the sensations. Wrapping his arms around your thighs he pulled you closer to his mouth, his tongue pushing into you and he started to fuck you with it whilst his bearded face tickled your clit. You were squealing and struggling to stay still, needing to anchor yourself on something as your hips bucked and your orgasm started to rapidly approach, your hands finding their way to his still wet hair and your fingers wrapping around the dark curls as he pressed a hand to your stomach to keep you still, growling at your taste on his tongue as he felt you shake as your orgasm took over.

 When your body had finally stopped shaking Walter pressed a chaste kiss to the inside of each of your thighs before he sat back on his haunches, licking his lips where he could still taste you on them. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows you grinned at him, your gaze travelling down his thick chest to his stomach, and the trail of hair that led beneath the towel;

 “You gonna show me what you’ve got under that towel, Detective?”

 “You ready for what i’ve got under this towel darlin’?”

 Pushing yourself up to sitting, your legs spread and bent either side of him, you hooked a finger into the towel and tugged, your eyes going wide when you saw his thick meaty cock standing hard and proud between his muscled thighs. Wrapping your hands around it you relished the feel of his silky skin as it moved over the hardness beneath, your mouth against his;

 “I need you inside me”

 “I… Fuck… this wasn’t planned… i haven’t got any protection…”

 “I’m on birth control, I want to feel you bare…”

 With a growl he surged forwards, capturing your lips with his own before he pushed you down onto the bed. Holding himself up on one hand he hooked your leg up over his hip, opening you like a winter blossom as he rubbed his dick through your soaked folds, dousing himself with your slick wetness. You whined at the teasing, the way his tip would brush against your hole only to move up to your clit;

 “Walter, please… you promised to warm me up from the inside…”

 He paused, a smirk on his face;

 “You want me to get you a coffee? ‘Cos i can stop…”

 “NO, i need your diiiiiiiiii….FUCK!” He’d pushed into you as you were mid sentence, the feeling of his meaty girth splitting your walls wide open overwhelming you and your eyes rolled back in their sockets; “OH MY GOD!”

 “You like that Darlin? You feeling warmer now?”

 “Please… please fuck me…”

 He grinned and shifted his hips, grinding into you;

 “Well, as you said please…”

 You had been expecting him to pound you into the mattress, you had not been expecting for his technique to start off with sensual rolls of his hips, filling you tenderly and carefully whilst you got used to his size. It was almost overwhelming, completely surrounded as he caged you in with his massive arms, his chest pressed against your own as his hips worked utter magic. He pulled his legs wide apart, shifting to rest on your open hips and he got even deeper. Pressing kisses to your lips and neck he soon had you moaning and begging for release, every push and pull hitting just the right spots and you were almost embarrassingly wet from the arousal but it only added to the sensations.

 You could feel yourself coming, the pleasure too much to hold back, and with a long low moan your body betrayed you and succumbed to the orgasm that had been building in the pit of your belly. Walter kept up the same speed of his thrusts but pushed a little harder, a little deeper with each one;

 “Can feel you fluttering around me, you gonna cum for me? You look so fucking beautiful all fucked out and wanting, feel so fucking amazing…”

 Just as your orgasm was at its peak he tensed and you could feel his cum flooding into you, the twitching of his dick as he filled you with his seed prolonging your high. When you had both finally finished you could feel his weight start to get heavier on top of you, before with a sudden and surprising act of nimble dexterity he rolled the pair of you over so you were laying atop of him, his softening dick slipping out and you felt the trickle of his seed flow out of you. With one massive hand he pulled the duvet across your bodies, and you snuggled up to his chest;

 “That was the best tip ever” you giggled; “In fact definitely more than the tip”

 At that moment you not only heard but felt his stomach growl, looking up and seeing him grin sheepishly as he spoke;

 “I just want you to know this is not how i usually treat food deliveries… do you want something to eat? Or drink?”

 Nodding you smiled;

 “That'd be nice”

 -

 A while later you were cleaned up, Walter having given you one of his massive t-shirts to wear which came to the tops of your thighs. He’d grazed through half the contents of his order as you nibbled on a muffin, having eaten at the coffee shop during a very quiet last hour of your shift. You’d laughed and chatted as the pair of you had eaten on the comfort of Walters couch, before you’d suddenly stopped mid sentence;

 “Shit, i left my bike in the lobby… will it be safe there until i go home?”

 Walter smiled at you, his hand curling around your thigh;

 “Have you heard that weather out there? I’d be surprised if you could even ride it home through three foot of snow…” he paused for a moment; “Stay the night…”

 You went to object, decline politely but you caught yourself, why? Why shouldn’t you spend the night? Taking a deep breath you smiled;

 “I’d love to”

_____________________________________________

Part 2 >>>

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (6)

(c!Technoblade x fem!Reader)

(some of y’all seemed to like chapter 5! so here’s chapter 6 like promised! and remember, you get chapter 7 if this one is shown some love, so remember to comment and reblog! thanks y’all! <3)

————-

True to their word Tommy and Tubbo came back to see you the very next day, having gotten up early (well early for them) to get ready and head out. Wilbur had wanted to go with them but he’d gotten caught up in presidential matters and couldn’t, much to his dismay. Too bad for him though that neither boy cared to wait on him since according to Tommy,

“It’ll take you hours to handle that stuff, I’m not waitin’ that long!”

So the pair bailed and Wilbur was left to sigh as he continued his work. And the following day he was blindsided by plans for a new public building everyone was wanting to get built in L’manburg. And they couldn’t plan it without Wilbur’s approval and supervision so while he handled that for the next few weeks the two boys would sneak off to spend time in your village.

They were both pretty good workers, at least when they weren’t goofing off and getting into shenanigans. You can’t count how many times you’d caught Tommy trying to build structures out of cobblestone in the village. He’d argued that he was improving the village but you threatened to eat his portion of the day’s lunch if he didn’t get rid of whatever tower or thing he’d started construction on. He’d always kick up a fuss but would take them down before the day was done. A few times Tubbo would run screaming for you, telling on Tommy for whatever new cobble thing he was trying to build in secret. Tommy either rushing to tear the structure down or chasing after his friend and screaming at him for being a ‘little snitch’.

You knew the two were just playing and they never failed to finish the tasks you gave them so you were mostly just amused by the pair. Though that didn’t stop you from scolding them when they inevitably broke something of yours or the villagers’. But thankfully the times when scoldings or lectures were needed were pretty rare. You’re not sure if this is because the two boys were actually taking your words to heart or not though. But regardless, the time spent together was nice.

Which meant when the two boys mentioned them needing to go to the Nether and asked if you wanted to tag along you said sure. You remembered the classic Nether and even saw parts of the Nether update, but you’d never gotten a chance to explore it in depth. You’d planned to before.. well before you’d ended up here. But that never happened. And once you ended up here you could have gone to the Nether but to be honest it just wasn’t on your list of priorities. You’d been too focused on improving the village and then building your home and stuff. But you figured there was no harm to checking it out now.

-0-

“We’ll either have to go back to L’manburg where there’s already nether portals or we’ll have to find a lava pool around here to make a new one,” Tommy said to you and Tubbo, though more specifically to you. 

You raised an eyebrow and asked why, and both boys started replying at the same time, Tubbo trying to explain that they didn’t have any obsidian on them so it was the only options and Tommy just saying ‘because that’s the options unless you’ve got obsidian’ in his usual blunt manner. 

Without thinking about it you opened your inventory and took out a stack of obsidian and a flint and steel and held them up to the pair. Their eyebrows raised and Tommy started asking you why the hell you had so much obsidian on you! But you just half shrugged and glanced away, saying you kept an approximate assortment of items on you at all times. The boys gave each other a ‘what the hell’ look before Tubbo shrugged and said who cares then asked where they should build the nether portal.

Tommy suggested building it in the village, but you nixed that idea right away. Tommy huffed and asked WHY NOT and you said you weren’t going to open an actual portal to HELL in the middle of your village. Any number of hostile creatures could come waltzing through and kill your villagers or even burn the place down. Tommy winced and softly mumbled that yeah that was a possibility. You rolled your eyes and Tubbo suggested building it outside the bamboo walls surrounding your village. You agreed and then you three set off to find a good spot. 

Thankfully finding a spot a safe distance from the village, on a hill too, was pretty easy. And you made the portal as one usually does. At one point you misplaced a block of obsidian and the two boys laughed and Tubbo said that now the portal was going to be all wonky looking. And Tommy was in the middle of saying you sucked at building when you thoughtlessly deleted the block of obsidian before lighting the portal with the flint and steel. All was silent. 

. . . .

“WOT!? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?” Tommy practically screeched. 

You blinked and looked at the two gobsmacked teens before realizing you’d just pulled some not exactly possible shit. They were giving you two twin Looks that basically screamed for you to explain yourself. But you just stayed silent for a minute before just saying not to worry about it. Internally you winced at that unintentionally dodgy answer but the two boys just kept pestering you, demanding to know how you’d done that. You sighed, knowing they’d keep on pestering you. So you decided to tease them a bit, just for laughs.

“You two can’t expect me to give away all my mystical secrets, can you~?” You said with a sly grin, waggling your fingers when you said ‘mystical’, just to play up the drama.

The two clearly did because Tommy went on a rant about how that was ‘such bullshit!’ and you can’t just ‘pull some weirdo shit like that and expect no questions!’ and more. You laughed and held your hands up in mock surrender before sighing a dramatic sigh and said fine, you’d reveal one of your secrets. But they had to swear not to tell anyone. Like you expected the two agreed without a thought. Then you took a deep breath and laced your fingers together in front of you, telling them to copy you. They did without question, both looking eager to learn. You told them to close their eyes and breathe steadily and listen to your voice. They did and you couldn’t hold back the smile as you continued,

“Alright, keep your eyes closed. Focus on my voice. The key to my master block breaking skills is quite simple really,” you said as you silently inched back, keeping an eye on them both as they stood there, eyes closed and hands clasped in front of them. Your smile grew into a grin as you felt the strange warmth of the nether portal envelop you, purple tinting your vision as you continued,

“The key is to just never reveal your secrets!”

By the time they registered exactly what you said you were almost totally through the portal, and you started laughing your ass off when you heard Tommy scream,

“READER! YOU BASTARD! COME BACK HERE-”

But it got cut off as you were sent through the portal, the last thing you saw was the two boys lunging for you before your view darkened and the almost suffocating heat of the Nether hit you in the face. You stepped forward and yelped as you almost walked right off a cliff into a lava lake. You hurried to put up a wall of obsidian for the boys coming in after you. You didn’t want them to fall, it would have ended poorly for them if they did. 

But you couldn’t focus on that shit right now! You had to hide! There wasn’t much around you to hide behind. You were in a large mostly flat area with some flames here and there and a lava lake behind you and a large wall of netherrack in front of you some ways away. You glanced back when you heard the portal activating again, signaling the two coming through. That’s when you glanced up. With a snicker you jumped up onto the top of the portal and laid down on your side, perfectly able to see down. You stayed perfectly still as the portal made its usual strange sound before it spat out the two boys you’d come to care for in a maternal fashion. You’d almost laughed when they smacked right into the wall you put up to keep them from tumbling to their doom. Tommy cursed before following Tubbo to the other side of the portal.

Tommy was definitely fired up, Tubbo laughing as they boys scoured the area for you. They didn’t see a glimpse of you, which felt crazy because you’re in WHITE. In the Nether! You should stick out like a sore thumb! And there was nowhere within running distance to hide so that made Tubbo sputter and ask how fast you were exactly! You bit your tongue to keep from laughing and watched them start walking away from the portal, calling your name and demanding you ‘show yourself this instant!’ as they did. You just watched them go with a grin, deciding to let them wander around a bit before you popped back up.

You laid there as they got further away, heading for what looked to be a crimson forest about 50 or so blocks to the left of the portal. As you laid there you sighed. Breathing in the Nether wasn’t fun. It honestly just made you want to grimace, this place honestly felt like a shitty dry summer day in a desert. Overwhelming and too humid to do anyone any good. You just wished it wasn’t so warm to breathe in. If the air was cooler, at least by a handful of degrees, then you’d probably be able to enjoy this place. But you supposed it could be worse. It could be a suffocating WET heat, like trying to breathe through a bowl of hot soup. 

At that point you glanced around and noticed you couldn’t see either Tommy or Tubbo anymore. So you figured it was time to go hunt them down so they could try to interrogate you. You walked along, passing a couple zombified piglins as you did. They each had thousand yard stares like regular zombies so you didn’t pay them much mind. Though you noticed when you passed by the regular non zombie piglins they all looked at you, snorting enviously at your golden jewelry. You couldn’t keep the smile from your face. You had to admit that it was nice to have someone appreciate your accessories. The number had increased since you’d started wearing the bangles. The armorer who first made them saw you liked them and so started making more jewelry.

Now you had the bangles, a couple anklets, more than a couple necklaces (both chokers and longer ones), plenty of rings, and even some pretty dangly earrings coupled with some studs. Your ears shockingly hadn’t been pierced when you’d gone to put them in after getting the gift. Which was weird since they’d been pierced before? But it wasn’t a big deal, you’d pierced your own ears before so you just did it again. And when you’d shown the boys they’d said you looked nice but they just didn’t appreciate jewelry like you did. Though you could see the piglins certainly did, but that was probably just because they were gold. But it was nice to have someone like them regardless.

You were appreciating the gold rings on one piglin’s tusks (and idly wondering if you’d be able to do the same for your antlers?) when suddenly you heard Tommy start shrieking. And not his usual angry shriek but instead one that was full of panic and fear. You jolted when you heard him yelling Tubbo’s name frantically, sprinting towards their cries without even saying a parting goodbye to the nice piglin you’d been standing with. Which was good because without wasting time with pleasantries you were able to find Tubbo and Tommy fairly quickly. Only downside was when you found them it was with them backed against a wall in the crimson forest with nowhere to run with a very angry hoglin ramming its huge tusks against Tubbo’s rapidly breaking shield, Tommy right behind him, both screeching and cursing at each other.

You didn’t even think as you charged at the hoglin. When you got up behind it you acted on pure instinct, desperate to get it away from the two screaming kids. So you grabbed its hind leg and yanked it back, momentarily shocked at how easy it was to do so. But you couldn’t worry about that right now. You pulled the hoglin back then swung it around before tossing it a few yards back. It landed with a heavy THUD, clearly taking damage, squealing in anger as it got back up and shook itself off. Though it snorted angrily it didn’t try to attack you but instead tried to go around you to reach the two boys. But you didn’t give it the chance before you were literally grabbing it by the tusks and spinning your body around before slamming the hoglin into one of the nearby tree sized crimson fungus. It smashed through the trunk, destroying two blocks in the process. The hoglin lay crumpled on the ground, weakly trying to stand only to die shortly after when you stomped on its neck.

It disappeared with a small ‘poof’, leaving behind a hide and some raw pork. You grabbed them up before walking over to the stunned teenage boys by the wall. You started checking them over to see if they’d taken any damage and then once you were sure they were okay you started asking them why on earth they’d come to the nether without shields and weapons! Tubbo said his sword had had lower durability than he’d thought and it broke when he was fighting off the hoglin! And Tommy shamefully admitted to having his sword but… dropping his shield when they were climbing across the crimson fungus. Then he’d apparently fallen and gotten surprised by the hoglin, who had done a good chunk of damage to him before Tubbo jumped down (taking damage in the process) to try and help him. All in all the two looked super embarrassed. You just shook your head and said they were idiots, but you were glad they were alive. 

While you grabbed two shields and a sword from your inventory Tommy went nuts, saying that was the coolest shit he’d ever seen anyone do ever! You gave him an amused look and asked what he meant. The killing the hoglin thing? He’d never seen someone kill a pig? He gawped at you and yelled out that NO he’d seen people kill hoglins, but he’d never seen anyone basically fight one with their bare hands! Tubbo cut in and added ‘and live!’ to the blond’s statement, which Tommy nodded along with. You just rolled your eyes and handed them the shields and Tubbo the sword before calling them silly for getting so worked up over you killing a hoglin. Then before they could rant more you pulled them both into a gentle side hug and sighed,

“I’m glad you’re both okay though, you scared me back there. I don’t want either of you getting hurt. So please be more careful, okay? For me?”

The two boys softened at that and each timidly wrapped an arm around you, feeling bad they’d worried you but… oddly happy that you cared enough to even BE worried. Which was a weird train of thought for them. Neither had any parents save for Philza, and he was mostly just a loose dad figure. He was a good guy and helped care for them but he also believed in letting them figure stuff out on their own and didn’t really offer help unless they asked for it. But you felt different. They’d only known you for a few weeks but it felt like longer. They felt safe with you in your village and yeah you had your rules but they strangely didn’t mind following them. It made you happy and when you were happy they were happy too.

Though the touching moment was brought to a sudden halt when Tommy suddenly shrieked. You and the boys looked down to see a baby hogling ramming its tusks against the blond boy’s ankles. You laughed and reached down before smacking it on the haunch, causing it to squeal in shock and run away. Tommy grumbled and cursed the small thing, making you and Tubbo snicker. But then you asked them what they needed from the Nether. Turns out they needed blaze rods and were going to loot a nether fortress. You said that sounded dangerous and asked them if they had any food to restore their health or even fire resistance potions. And well they had food so, not a total facepalm moment. But then they asked you where your weapon was, and your shield! Did YOU have food or fire resistance potions? You blinked and said you’re sure you had some of that stuff yeah.

They pestered you until you pulled out your enchanted axe and shield. You didn’t really need the shield you didn’t think but it seemed to put the two boys at ease so you carried it as you followed them through the nether. Idly you made sure to leave a trail of cobblestone behind you all, so you’d know where you’d come from and could find your way back easier. And it turns out that was a smart move because you all walked a long way, through at least 4 different biomes, before you stumbled across a nether fortress. Said structure loomed over you three, looking utterly massive and low key intimidating. You squinted and told the two boys you could see a couple zombie piglins and wither skeletons up on the landings walking around. Tommy groaned and said the wither skeletons were a pain in the ass but knocking them off the edge was pretty easy.

The rest of the evening was spent following the two around the nether fortress, helping them collect potion ingredients and fend off mobs. And to your utter shock you three had discovered that you just… didn’t take fire damage! Like, at all. You’d been busy helping them knock back a couple wither skeletons when unbeknownst to you three a blaze had approached and shot fireballs at you, hitting you square in the back. You honestly hadn’t even noticed, being too busy with helping Tommy fend off a skeleton. It was only after you knocked them all off and Tubbo yelped about you burning did you pause and ask what he was going on about. You understood when he screamed that you were on fire. And yeah, when you looked down you actually were. But it… didn’t hurt? It wasn’t even burning you or your clothes. You just blinked stupidly before simply patting it out. As you three stood there silently it seemed Tommy became fed up as he shouted,

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU!?”

Which just made you start laughing your ass off, only able to offer him a shrug because honestly you didn’t even know yourself at this point. Tubbo started giggling as well which eventually got Tommy to crack a smile before he broke out into laughter too. You all finished laughing and Tubbo suggested that maybe it was a fluke? Tommy nodded and said maybe you just got lucky or were in shock or something? Though that was disproved when you checked yourself and your skin and clothes were totally fine, no burns at all. Tubbo grinned and suggested testing it. You raised an eyebrow and he pulled out a flint and steel before lighting a patch of the ground on fire. Tommy’s eyes were wide but he was grinning and looking at you, probably wondering if you were actually going to do it. You were anxious, because all your previous life experience told you ‘fire bad’ but… you were curious too.

So you stuck one foot into the fire. And… nothing. It felt warm for sure. Sort of like if you stuck your hand in front of a space heater. Very warm but it didn’t hurt. So you just stepped into the fire and it crawled up your skin until it was licking at your face. But you were totally fine. Tommy and Tubbo laughed incredulously, with the blond saying this whole thing was fucking insane. He asked if you were sure you hadn’t drank any fire resistance potions? You shook your head no and Tubbo pointed out that surely they would have seen the potion particles if that were the case. Tommy hummed but agreed before saying that despite this all being neat and shit that they still had the rest of the fortress to scavenge. Tubbo followed him with you leading the rear and on your way inside the brunet laughingly said he was going to use you as a blaze shield. You just gave a fake offended gasp and just said, “Rude.” which made both boys snicker.

-0-

True to their word they’d used you like a human shield. But since you took no damage you just rolled with it, actually finding all of this pretty amusing by now. And after you’d all gathered more than enough blaze rods you’d separated from them for a bit. Mostly just sticking around the sand path that led back to the portal while they searched the rest of the fortress for nether wart and mined for glowstone dust. And while they did that you sat on a block of sand and pulled out some food to eat, mostly out of boredom than from any real desire to satiate any hunger. But while you were munching on a golden carrot a little piglin child came up to you to admire your golden jewelry. You smiled down at them, inwardly cooing over how adorable they were with their little baby tusks. And you almost died when they let out a happy squeal when you offered them a chunk of your golden carrot. You’re not sure how long you sat there with the baby piglin but after eating a couple carrots together you placed down another block of sand before using your finger to draw pictures in the sand, much to the child’s delight. They copied you and started drawing pictures too. Most of which you couldn’t recognize but they were still cute.

“OI! Reader! C’mon, we’re done!!” yelled the blond boy from up the path a ways. 

The baby piglin snorted in distrust and hid a bit behind the sand block, showing they didn’t really trust the two players. You chuckled and said you were coming to the two boys before standing up and dusting yourself off. Then you glanced down at the tiny little piglin and smiled before pulling a gold ingot from your inventory. The baby piglin snorted enviously then squealed loudly when you handed them the ingot. They couldn’t take their wide eyes off of it, making you giggle at how precious they were. But sadly you had to go so you gently patted their head and said goodbye. They managed to tear their eyes away from the gold to snort sadly as you left. Part of you felt bad but the bigger part knew they couldn’t follow you to the Overworld..

After leaving the Nether you broke the portal, not wanting to risk any nether creatures accidentally stumbling through and getting hurt. And with a glance around you saw it was getting late. To the point where Tubbo and Tommy would have to rush to get back to their houses before night fell. So you saw them off, giving them some food for the trip and even giving them another hug goodbye. One you noticed they relaxed into faster than before. Then they were off, calling out goodbyes and saying they’d be back either tomorrow or the next day. You waved bye and said you looked forward to it, calling out your usual ‘be careful!’ before you couldn’t see them anymore. You frowned a little. Despite them having armor and weapons you still worried about them travelling alone at night after they visited you. You think next time you’ll walk them home. Just to make sure they were safe.

-----------

@salinesoot @lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @hufflepuff-demigod @corpiet @beepa99 @anxiousnarwhale​

[honey-makki]

brainrot kinktober- 10/6

blue encens

Car Sex: Hinata Shoyo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: semi public sex, oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

Hinata hasn’t been back in Japan for long and it’s obvious. His skin much darker from days playing volleyball in the sun. The white tee he’s wearing sits much tighter on his arms than it used to, leaving little to the imagination as it stretches across his chest. His distressed black jeans are the perfect combination to the almost too tight shirt, giving you a taste of skin showing at the thigh and knee that left you wanting more.

He glanced over at you to see if you had put the finishing touches on your makeup before calling an uber. You’re checking angles in the fluorescent light. A smile graces his face as he takes your figure in, just happy to finally be back home with you, be in the same room with you. The uber is ordered as he runs a hand through his hair thinking about how grateful he was to have the opportunity to play for MSBY and to be with you again. The years away were painful.

Trotting over to him when you are satisfied with your appearance and you plop a sweet kiss on his lips, nothing but excitement at the prospect of going out with the team as a welcome party. You knew that Hinata wouldn’t be drinking or want to stay too long since he had a one on one meeting with the athletic trainers and nutritionists in the morning before the afternoon practice. That won’t stop the rest of the boys as they have time to sleep off a potential hangover, and it certainly won’t stop you from celebrating your boyfriend’s return.

The long ride to the club passes quickly as he blabbers about how the city has changed but somehow stayed the same, just like how he still has his childish sense of wonder about him. By the time you arrive, the rest of the team is in the area they reserved, knocking back drinks and joking around. Bokuto is the first to spot Hinata and bounds over picking him up in a big hug. The scene is cute, long time friends reuniting and Hinata introducing you with adoration dripping from very word.

The team welcomes you into their group with ease, pestering you for embarrassing stories about Hinata, taking group shots regularly. Atsumu wants to go dance and a few others agree, you look to Hinata to see what his choice is, ready to follow his lead as the night is about him. So there you are, in the middle of the dance floor, no one you recognize insight with Hinata behind you gripping your hips.

The music is flowing through your body as you sway grinding into the man behind you whos matching your every movement with just as much enthusiasm. His time in Brazil for sure has made him a better dancer. That, or you are drunk and very much in love with your boyfriend. His hands start roaming the longer you stay on the floor. Sliding up and down your thighs, one sneaking up to cup your boob.

Between the heat from everyone crowded around you, the tequila flowing through your veins, and how Hinata was touching you, it’s fair to say you were getting hot. It’s been years since he had his hands on you and both of you were feeling the lust building up. If you were sober you would have moved his hands to a more respectable place, but in your tipsy state, you just ground back harder and moved a hand back to grip his hair. His scent, smoky incense and traces of cardamom and cinnamon flood your nose, overpowering the stench of sweat and spilled drinks of the club.

He places a few kisses along the back of your neck and it isn’t until he starts sucking a mark near your ear do you move to stop him. “Hinata, I need you to calm down, your hands are moving a little too freely and its a lot.” You hope the tone of your voice explains what you mean, because the thought of explaining just how horny you were in the middle of a club mortified you.

“I couldn’t keep my hands off you even if I wanted to, sunshine. I think it might be time for us to leave.” He grinds into you a little harder and you can feel his erection evident against your ass. Your movements cease as you realize your effect on him and he grabs your hand leading you towards the door as he orders an uber with his other hand. Neither of you giving a second thought about saying goodbye to his teammates.

You climb into the spacious black car, and see that the car even has a partition installed, did Hinata call an Uber Lux just to take you home for sex? You shoot him a questioning glance, but your features melt into a smile as you see him just staring at you with love. As soon as you buckle in he pulls you in for a deep kiss, hands intertwined with each other’s hair.

It doesn’t take long for him to move down your body reaching in your dress to grope your chest his other hand finding its way to your ass just under the hem. He knows what he’s doing to you, so in retaliation, your start palming his cock straining against his jeans. You pull back and see how flushed he looks, eyes wide and hungry for you.

He pulls you in for what you expect to be another make out, but its just one kiss and a pained plea against your lips “Suck?” You glance down and see how hard he is and paired with the lust you’ve been building for years, you comply, desperately unbuttoning his jeans to get access to his cock.  

Quickly taking the head in your mouth, precum mixing with the aftertaste of tequila and lime. You bob your head down at what should be a comfortable speed, but the combination of alcohol and being in a moving car, it makes you dizzy. You slow to a pace that is comfortable for you but probably painfully teasing for Hinata who is desperately chasing his high.

He carefully gathers some of your hair in one hand to grip, a soft ‘can I?’ tumbles out of his lips and you hum around his shaft knowing what he has in mind. He starts to thrust up into your mouth in a pace comparable to your original one, unrelenting in speed. Your jaw hurts from being stretched out, but the tequila dulls the pain, and honestly, its worth it./The soft grunts tumbling out of his mouth morph into groaned curses that leave you squeezing your thighs together. Looking for some friction against your needy cunt through your drenched underwear.

His eyes are locked on you and your body. so compliant for him. the body he’s imagined teasing and tasting for years and with the recognition that he finally can do that, he cums unexpectedly down your throat.

He unbuckles you and pulls you into his lap, sitting between his legs. He peppers kiss down the back of your neck, thanking you for making him feel so good and praising you for being such a good girl. His hands spread your thighs apart and one dips beneath your dress. Eyes fluttering shut at the contact on your clothed cunt.

“Can’t wait to be home with y- you, Sho.” Your voice is barely more than a whispered plead to the driver to go faster.

“Who says we need to wait?”

You turn back to face him, suddenly much more sober than you were two minutes prior. “Shoyo! We can’t! The driver will see us!”

He turns the rest of your body so you are straddling him. He whispers into your ear, “This car has a partition, darling.” His tone is daring and enticing, if it didn’t sell you on being fucked in the back seat of an uber, Hinata rolling his hips into yours did. You fumble to help him pull his jeans down and move your underwear to the side.

The stretch hurts but it’s what you’ve been wanting, the familiarity rushing back to you, fiting in your cunt like it was made just for you, filling you to the brim and rubbing against your sweet spot on every deep thrust. If it weren’t for the two fingers Hinata shoved in your mouth before you sunk down on his cock the whole city would have heard your moan.

“You’ll need to cum fast if you don’t want our driver to see you. Looks like traffic is lightening up and we are getting close to home.” It’s a challenge and your walls clench around him at the mere thought of being caught in such a position. He helps lift you up and down on him every thrust deep and hitting deep inside of you just like you want. The coil that’s been building in your stomach since dancing with him on the floor is almost unbearably tight.

His mouth his on your chest just leaving kisses and love marks along anything exposed, committing your body back to memory. When he sees familiar streets, he moves one hand from your thigh to rub your clit, tight and precise circles with his callused fingers drive you close and closer to the edge.

“Hmm, not gonna cum? Did you just want to get caught being fucked in a car like a good little whore? If that’s what you want, who am I to stop you?” His words are all for talk, but they send you over the edge into a violent orgasm, with an embarrassingly loud moan that the uber driver most definitely heard. You can’t focus on that though, not when it feels like lightning is crackling through your body leaving you breathless.

He helps get you put together enough to walk inside as the uber pulls up to your place. You mumble an embarrassed thanks to Hinata for helping you cum, while you walk to the door

“I would never let some random man see my sunshine.” He kisses your head before pushing you inside the door and towards the bedroom.

Tag list:  @definitelythotful @riniwrits @shrimpypenis @nonexistent-social-life @crushingonsuga @revolutionary-chocolate-cake @right-shoe-jpg @sugawara-sweetheart @nxynxy @aoba-baby​ @arianna20​ @scorpiosanssexy @ceo-of-daichi @dinosaurtsukki @turquoiselace @nonamemaximum @omibaby @chokemelevi @bokuakadaily @haikyuuangst @cutie-aesthetic-palace @whet-ones-write @superdepressedhoe @iwachanswh0re @crushzone @kiseox @mysticalroadnightempath @toobsessedsstuff @trouvelle @kodzu-ken @elianetsantana @sonyaroses-blog @tsukkisbitch If you are bold and crossed out please check your privacy settings :)

A/N: I spent a long time figuring out what cologne I wanted to use because timeskip!hinata is very important to me and this is the one I decided on and is the name sake of the fic. also thank you to everyone who has been thirsting for timeskip!hinata recently. you make me feel so so so valid bc its really just been me and daisy.

[hrina]

In The Ring, Pt. I - Jab

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 4k REQUESTED: not exactly lol

hey everyone! this is PART 1 of the boxer!harry AU i’ve been working on. i was so inspired by this concept that i wrote it all in one day lol. if u enjoy reading it, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated! it really helps in terms of motivation and just knowing how my readers feel about this story in general. so yeah, that would really make my month!

warning: parts of this fic will contain mentions of blood, violence, mild stalking, and sexual content. if any of that makes you uncomfortable, please take care of yourself and keep scrolling <3

okay, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, go stupid go dumb! my masterlist and my inbox are both linked in my bio, for anyone who would like to check out my other fics or who feels like chatting. can’t wait to hear your thoughts 💘💘💘

~*~

    January 7, 2021

All of Harry’s teeth are still intact.

For now, at least.

He knows that mouthguards exist—there’s one tucked between his lips every single time he enters the ring. But even then…sometimes punches go awry. Sometimes your opponent dodges at the last second. Sometimes people end up with a mouthful of leather and a few loose incisors. He always keeps one fist near his chin, shielding the lower half of his face from any blows that come his way.

Speaking of blows coming his way…

He ducks away from the straight jab that the man throws—The Wall, they call him. Harry had rolled his eyes when the nickname boomed across the room, soon lost in the roar of the crowd.

He’s never been one for flashy introductions. He prefers to let his technique speak for itself. His brand is his name. Harry Styles. Simple, concise, and so utterly deceiving. He loves watching the smile melt from his opponent’s face, basks in the moment when they realise that he’s tougher than his name suggests.

The Wall jabs again, and Harry successfully dodges the punch. He doesn’t register the other fist hooking around, however, until the blunt front of the man’s glove makes contact with the side of his head. Usually, a blow like that wouldn’t even faze him. But the sheer force behind the hit knocks him off-balance, stumbling to the side as he loses his footing and inhaling sharply when his shoulder collides with the ground.

The yells from the crowd are deafening. Harry coughs, trying to guide air back into his lungs. When he blinks, black spots dance across his vision. Subconsciously, his eyes trace a path upward, past the floor, past his opponent’s feet, past the ropes encompassing the ring. Higher and higher, still, past jeering faces and sloshing beer bottles and grungy eye makeup. All the way to the top of the bleachers, to the exit—to you.

That’s been your unofficial spot for the past two years. Once you turned twenty, your father finally gave in, allowing you to attend Harry’s matches in exchange for the cessation of your endless badgering. You always stand near the door, observing the commotion with thoughtful eyes and puckered lips. Despite himself, Harry has started to think of you as his lucky charm. It’s dangerous—he always swore that he wouldn’t be one of those overly-superstitious athletes—but he can’t help it. He just seems to perform better when you’re around.

Through the rocky field of his vision, he can see just how wide your eyes have grown. There’s an unmistakable look of concern on your face as you watch the fight unfold. Your hand finds its way to the base of your throat, playing nervously with the rose-gold pendant resting there. You crane your neck to get a better view of the ring, your pupils flitting back and forth between Harry and the frighteningly large man looming over him.

A warm rush of adrenaline floods Harry’s veins. The saliva that has gathered in his mouth tastes stale on his tongue. He spits it out as he staggers to his feet. The crowd grows louder, somehow.

The Wall’s smile shrinks as Harry assumes his previous position; his hands orient themselves in front of his face. His opponent gnashes his teeth, seemingly annoyed with the fact that the match has not ended. Harry shakes off the dizziness clouding his brain, and then he’s lunging forward with a newfound sense of determination. He throws punch after punch, sidestepping The Wall’s returning attempts. All he can think about is the fact that you’re up there, watching, waiting, worrying. He never wants to see you like that again.

You’re his goddamn lucky charm.

His victory comes in the form of an uppercut followed immediately by a nasty right hook. The Wall—this big, towering man with bulging biceps and rippling pectorals—crumples to the ground. Harry waits, his chest heaving with exertion as the countdown begins. He’s prepared to watch his opponent rise again, to shift back into a fighting stance and start over. But as the seconds trickle by and The Wall remains motionless on the ground, he soon finds the tension in his body seeping out into the hot, sticky air.

His shoulders sag in relief as a single promising word echoes through the grimy arena.

“Knockout!”

~*~

The crowd thins out considerably in the ten minutes following the termination of the match. Harry stumbles out of the ring, sliding through the ropes and pulling his mouthguard from between his lips. Your father is waiting for him with a smile on his face, holding out an arm and helping him jump down from the raised platform.

“Well done, H,” he says, patting his back proudly.

Harry pants and nods. Your father holds out a reusable water bottle for him to take—he accepts it graciously and gulps down the cold liquid with fat, greedy slurps. Once he pulls the nozzle away from his mouth, he runs the back of his hand over his face to catch any stray droplets that have collected on his chin.

“Thanks, Coach.”

“You took a pretty hard fall, there,” your father says, guiding him to sit down on a bench propped up against the wall. “Medic’s in the back. He’s checking out Aaron right now, but you’re next.” He taps his index finger against Harry’s temple. “We’ve got to make sure everything’s alright up there.”

Harry sucks in a deep breath, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Who the fuck is Aaron?”

“Oh.” Your father laughs. “Aaron. The Wall. Whatever you want to call him.”

Harry frowns. “Don’t like that. Makes him sound like a dick.”

A new voice enters the conversation.

“That’s because he is.”

Harry’s head snaps to the side, and there you are.

You look nice, as usual. There’s something about you that he can never seem to properly describe. You always look so…clean. If he tried to vocalize his thoughts, he’s sure that you would look at him like he was crazy.

But in his head, it makes sense. You take care of yourself. Your nails are spotless, your hair smells good, and he knows that you must dab spritzes of perfume onto your pulse points before you leave the house, because a fresh scent follows you wherever you go. Even now, as you stand a few feet away with your hands on your hips, he catches it on a deep inhale. Not flowery, not fruity, just…clean. Refreshing. Light. Breezy.

Your father snaps him out of his reverie, and he realises that he should probably stop listing every word in the thesaurus.

“How do you know?” Your father’s inquiry is curious. He shoots you a puzzled look, his mouth curling down into a soft scowl.

You roll your eyes. “Called me ‘sweet thing’ before the match started and asked me if I was the prize,” you say, sticking your tongue out in disdain. “I told him to go fuck himself.”

Harry’s lips twitch.

Your father chuckles. “That’s my girl.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head. “What time are we leaving?” you ask. The question is directed at your father, who is fiddling with the drawstrings hanging from his sweater. “I was hoping to study a bit more before bed.”

“Soon, gioia,” your father says. “As soon as Harry gets checked out, we’ll be on our way.”

You nod, and—for what feels like the first time since you cut into the interaction—you glance down at Harry. “Hi,” you say softly, shooting him a small, friendly smile.

He meets your gaze for only a moment. Everything about you is so gentle. Your irises are like melted pots of honey, regarding him with such warmth he feels like he’ll never be cold again. “Hi.”

“Congratulations on your win,” you murmur. Harry wants to bottle your voice and save it as a keepsake. “You made a great comeback.”

Because of you, he wants to say, but he bites his tongue. “Thank you,” he offers up instead, the words scraping against the roof of his mouth and tumbling unceremoniously into the air between you.

A moment of silence ensues as you wait for him to say something—anything—else. But he’s done. You nod once before turning back to your father, who is tweaking the settings of the watch wrapped around his wrist.

“Do you know where the washrooms are?” you ask. You toy absentmindedly with the necklace hanging from your throat. “I need to pee.”

“You can use the one in the women’s locker room,” your father tells you, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “Around the corner, first door on the left.”

“Thanks,” you say, slipping by and pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

He just nods in agreement, still too preoccupied with his watch.

Harry, on the other hand, can’t keep his eyes off of you as you walk away. He takes note of the way that you tuck your hair behind your ear, how you shoulder the strap of your purse to keep it from slipping down your arm, how you walk with a purpose despite being so moderate and kind. His gaze falls momentarily to the sway of your hips, the enticing nature of your waist. He stares for a long moment before tearing away, clearing his throat and blinking a few times in quick succession.

“Proud of you, H,” your father pipes up, tapping the face of his watch twice before dropping his arm with a sigh. “You did well out there.”

“Thanks,” Harry mutters. A spark of guilt flares up in his chest when he realises that he had been blatantly ogling you with your father standing only a few feet off to the side. He silently berates himself, shaking his head free of any alluring thoughts.

Your father’s phone chirps with the arrival of a new notification. He fishes the device out of his pocket and glances down at the screen.

“Let’s go,” he tells Harry, jerking his head to the right. “Medic’s ready for you, now.”

    January 13, 2021

“C’mon, H, be smart with it! Watch how he angles himself!”

And Harry’s trying, really, but Arthur—or Artie, as your father likes to call him—is a hunkering titan of a man. He used to be your father’s star athlete before retiring, and now…now he’s working in finance, or something akin to that. Harry isn’t one hundred percent sure; he usually zones out when people begin to discuss the stock market.

Artie throws a right hook, but Harry sees it coming and blocks it with ease. They move in a circle, focussed only on each other while other individuals outside of the ring totter around.

Harry prefers to train on weekdays during the afternoon, because that’s when the gym isn’t as packed. Right now, only a handful of other people are working out, lifting weights or doing cardio exercises. Harry and Artie are here so often that nobody even blinks an eye anymore. And your father…well, he runs the place. Of course he would be here.

The sparring continues. When Harry refuses to make the first move, Artie sticks one glove out, beckoning him forward. “Come here, pretty boy.”

“Don’t make me pull your hair,” Harry grits, because Artie’s ponytail is swinging temptingly from beneath his headgear.

The other man laughs good-naturedly before lunging. Harry blocks his uppercut and delivers a strong, pointed jab right to the middle of his chest. Artie stumbles backward, inhaling sharply as the breath is knocked from his lungs. Harry bites back a smile.

“Nice, H!” your father calls.

“Thanks, Coach,” he mutters.

The front door of the gym opens, accompanied by the soft tinkling of a bell to announce the new arrival. Harry’s attention is reflexively drawn toward the direction of the sound, and his heartbeat stutters beneath his ribs.

You’re there, with your hair tied back in a low bun and silver hoops hanging from your ears. You’re holding a tray of coffee in your left hand, and there’s a warm smile on your face. You wave excitedly as you greet Portia, the middle-aged woman sitting behind the front desk. The two of you chat as you shrug off your jacket and tug the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

Your mouth moves languidly. Though Harry is too far to hear your voice, he has a pretty good idea of what you’re saying. Your eyes widen and you shiver dramatically, shaking your head.

It’s cold!

A heavy fist makes contact with the side of his jaw, and he falls to the ground.

Your father’s loud exclamation pulls your attention away from Portia and toward the ring on the opposite end of the room. Harry groans lowly as he pushes himself to his knees, tilting his head from side to side and cracking his neck. When he turns to face your father, he finds him frowning through the gaps between the ropes.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, shooting Harry a disappointed look.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles, climbing to his feet with a grunt. “Got distracted.”

He chances a glance back at you, and his shoulders grow tense when he realises that you’re making your way over to the ring, the tray of coffee held between your hands like a peace offering.

“Hello, boys,” you singsong. “I brought drinks.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” your father says as you hand him his designated cup. He leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to your hair. You hum happily in response.

“Jason!” you call out as Artie approaches the side of the ring. “I got your lemonade.”

“Thanks, little girl,” Artie hums, accepting his drink graciously and taking a long sip from the straw. “And for the hundredth time, stop calling me ‘Jason’.”

“Stop calling me ‘little girl’,” you shoot back, laughing deviously. “I can’t help it if you look like him, okay? You’re even the same age, too.” You cock one eyebrow. “Should I start calling you ‘Aquaman’ instead?”

“God, no.” Artie shakes his head vehemently. “Let’s stick to Jason. ’Least that’s a real name.”

You giggle as he ambles away. Your eyes shift over to Harry—who has kept silent the entire time—and your lips curl up into a kind smile. “Hi, Harry.”

“Hi.” His voice is guttural.

“Last, but not least,” you murmur, plucking his drink from the tray and holding it up for him to take. “One black coffee, right?”

“Right,” he confirms with a curt nod. He tugs his bulky gloves off, dropping them to the floor and reaching out to accept the cup. A strong spark pricks at his hand when his fingers brush against yours. Your responding gasp is soft, barely-noticeable—if he weren’t so painfully aware of everything you do, he would have missed it completely.

“Thank you,” he says, guiding the coffee to his mouth and taking a small sip.

“No problem.” You smile up at him again, and God, that fucking smile. He wants it tattooed onto the backs of his eyelids. A wave of heat blooms in his chest and creeps up his neck, but thankfully, the pink flush blends in with his sweat-slicked, already-rosy skin.

“How was class, sweetheart?” your father asks, tilting his head to the side.

“It was good.” You shrug, tossing a thumb over your shoulder. “I’m going to head home now, though—I have a proposal due in a few days and I really need to get started.”

“Go, go,” your father concedes. You bid him goodbye before standing on your tiptoes and craning your neck to catch sight of Artie, who is quite evidently enjoying his lemonade.

“Bye, Jason!”

“Bye, little girl!”

You laugh. Your gaze lands on Harry again, eyes sparkling and features resolutely tender. “Bye, Harry.”

He swallows down the hard lump in his throat. “Bye.”

    January 16, 2021

Harry’s workout playlist features a lot of Ariana Grande.

He just thinks that she’s good, okay?

But he knows that Artie and your father would never let him hear the end of it, so he keeps that information private. During practice, he’ll endure whatever shitty tunes Artie picks from his own library, and he won’t say a word. He’s not in the ring to dance, anyway. He’s there to make money—albeit illegally—because quite frankly, he hasn’t discovered an aptitude for anything else.

It’s late—the gym is technically closed. But the great thing about having the owner for a coach is the fact that Harry was given another key to add to his collection. Your father doesn’t care, as long as he locks up after he’s done. Harry has spent more time here than at his own home, he imagines. It’s nice when it’s quiet—it gives him plenty of time to think.

The back of his t-shirt is soaked through with sweat. He’s gazing at the ceiling as he lifts the heavy weights up and down over his torso. A bubbly song is playing on his phone, keeping his energy high.

So what if he listens to Ariana Grande? She makes great music.

The distinctive sound of footsteps reaches his ears. He pauses, setting the weightlifting bar back onto its rack and sitting up quickly. The noise is coming from the stairs that lead down to the swimming pool in the basement. Harry stands, and though his muscles are already screaming from previous exertion, he readies himself for the worst.

You appear at the top of the flight, your slippers smacking against each step loudly. You’re ruffling a towel against your wet hair, your head angled to the side as you squeeze out any excess water. Upon catching sight of Harry, you freeze in your tracks.

“Oh. Harry. Hi.”

“Hi,” he says slowly. “I…didn’t know you were here.”

“I didn’t know you were here,” you reply wryly, a small smirk making its way onto your lips.

Harry scratches sheepishly at the back of his neck. “Yeah. Er…I was just working out.”

You nod, your expression coy. “I can see that.”

An awkward silence hangs in the air. Harry clears his throat, rubbing his jaw with his fingers because what else is he supposed to do? “Were you—did you go for a swim?”

“Yeah,” you say. Your shoulders deflate, like you’re almost grateful that he’s contributed more to the conversation. “Spent half the time doing laps, and the other half on my phone.” Your lips quirk up with the feeble joke.

Harry chuckles weakly. “That’s just how it is, sometimes.”

Your eyes flutter shut for only a moment. “Yeah.”

More silence. Harry chews nervously on his bottom lip. Why the fuck can’t he speak?

The song playing from his phone changes. Your eyes narrow ever-so-slightly when a few upbeat notes trickle into the air, followed immediately by the smooth crooning of a woman’s voice. “Is this…,” you hesitate, and he can see how you’re fighting a smile, “…Carly Rae Jepsen?”

“Uh,” he says dumbly, uncertain of how to proceed. Sure enough, I Really Like You by Carly Rae Jepsen is filtering through the taut atmosphere, painfully loud now that the two of you are truly paying attention to it.

A high-pitched laugh falls from your mouth, and your shoulders shake with the force of your amusement. Harry, unable to help himself, begins to chuckle along with you. Heat blooms across his cheeks, but he’s not as embarrassed as he thought he’d be. Your giggles aren’t derisive, he realises.

He’s nearly overcome with the urge to take you in his arms, then, but he resists.

“Late night, watching the television…,” you sing quietly, and then you’re dissolving into merriment all over again.

Once your joint laughter subsides, you shoot him a bright grin. Harry tries his best to return it, though he doesn’t think that he mirrors your smile to its full extent. You sigh in delight, shouldering the strap of your bag and tossing your towel over your forearm.

“That honestly made my night,” you tell him, utterly sincere.

His heart somersaults in his chest. “’M glad.”

“Well,” you say, shrugging gently, “I should probably go.”

“Yeah.” His response is hollow. He lifts his hand in a half-hearted wave. “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

He lies back down with a grunt as you make your way toward the exit. His fingers wrap around the weightlifting bar, about to pull it off of its resting place, when your voice suddenly rings out again.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” He sits up too quickly, nearly catching his forehead against the metal of the bar. When he turns around to face you, he finds you doubling back, approaching him and nibbling apprehensively on your bottom lip.

“I actually—,” you pause, like you’re unsure of how to continue, “I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

“Sure,” he says, rubbing his hands over the black shorts covering his thighs. “Go ahead.”

“It might be kind of weird,” you warn. “Don’t laugh at me.”

He shakes his head, blinking solemnly. “I won’t.”

“Would you—,” you begin, and your fingers come up to play with the pendant resting at the base of your throat, “—teach me how to box?”

“I—,” Harry recoils slightly, taken aback by your question. “What?”

“Would you teach me how to box?” you repeat, though your voice is significantly smaller. “I want to learn how to defend myself.”

“Against what?” he asks, his brows knitting together in concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine.” You wave away his worries with an inattentive flick of your hand. Harry’s eyes narrow as he studies your face. You refuse to meet his gaze.

You’re lying, he realises, straight through your pretty teeth. But it would be impolite of him to pry, wouldn’t it? And this is the first time that the two of you have ever been really, truly alone; he doesn’t want to fuck it up.

“Okay,” he says slowly, even though he doesn’t believe your guarantee.

He pulls at the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it up and wiping his face with the fabric. When he fixes his gaze on you once more, he thinks he catches your eyes drifting across his torso. Cocking one eyebrow curiously, he climbs to his feet.

“What do you want to learn?” he asks, reaching for his phone and pausing the music streaming from the device.

“Anything,” you say breathlessly. “Everything.”

His lips twitch.

“I—,” he scratches at his nose with two fingers, “—I don’t really have a set schedule, you know, between practice and actual matches.”

“I know.” You nod understandingly.

“And I know you have school,” he continues, tilting his head to the side. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Positive,” you tell him. There’s something strong burning in your eyes; he can’t quite figure out what it is. “I want to train. Just…don’t tell my dad, okay?”

“Okay,” he repeats. He swallows heavily, offering his phone to you. “Put your number in, yeah? I’ll text you on the nights I’m free, and if you’re not too busy, we can meet up here.”

“Alright,” you concede softly. You take the device from him, and he pretends not to notice just how badly your hands are shaking. Your nails tap quietly against the screen, and before you know it, you’re passing the phone back to him with your information saved under a new contact.

“Alright,” Harry echoes.

The two of you stare at each other for a long, silent moment. The spell is broken, however, when you finally take a step back, clearing your throat and tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear.

“I should go,” you say. “For real, this time.”

“For real.” Harry nods.

“You’ll lock up, right?” you ask, retreating toward the exit.

“Yup,” he says, popping the last letter instinctively. At that, you smile, your mouth curling up into a soft, inviting crescent.

“Okay,” you murmur, placing one hand on the door. “Goodnight, Harry.”

He watches you go with forlorn eyes and empty lungs. “Goodnight.”

~*~

PART II: Cross

PART III: Hook

PART IV: Uppercut

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