#even if he's barely mentioned - when he is he's being awesome

[0omillo0]

Felix x depressed! Reader

warning: mention of s/h

The morning sun peeked through soft clouds, its light gently warming the park as Felix spread out a checkered blanket beneath a sprawling tree. The grass was still damp with dew, shimmering under the sun’s golden touch. Felix glanced up, his heart doing a little flip when he saw her approaching. She walked slowly, shoulders slightly hunched, the oversized hoodie swallowing her frame, its hood pulled low to shadow her face. Even in the warmth of spring, she clung to that hoodie like armor.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice bright. “I was starting to think you ditched me.”

She looked up, a small, apologetic smile gracing her lips. “Sorry… I overslept.”

Felix’s eyes softened. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re here.”

She settled beside him on the blanket, hugging her knees to her chest, the sleeves of her hoodie swallowing her hands. Felix pretended not to notice, even though he had—many times. He busied himself unpacking their picnic: neatly wrapped sandwiches, colorful fruit, and his special brownies. He’d stayed up late baking them, hoping to see her smile.

“Your favorites,” he said, holding up a brownie. “I even used extra chocolate chips this time.”

Her eyes lit up, just a little. “You remembered?”

“Of course. Can’t let you forget how awesome my baking skills are.” He winked, taking a bite and making an exaggerated noise of delight. “Mmm, perfection.”

She laughed, a quiet sound that made his chest tighten. It was so rare, so fleeting, but today it lingered just a bit longer. They ate slowly, Felix recounting ridiculous stories from his trainee days. He animatedly recreated a scene of his first dance evaluation, flailing dramatically, his limbs moving in exaggerated angles.

“I was a disaster,” he groaned. “I almost took out three people with my flailing arms.”

She laughed, this time louder, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I can’t imagine you being that bad.”

“Oh, it was tragic. I think they were considering getting me dance insurance or something.”

She shook her head, her shoulders relaxing as she leaned back on her palms. “I wish I could’ve seen that.”

Felix grinned, his heart fluttering. “I’ll do a reenactment just for you. But be warned, it’s not pretty.”

The afternoon passed in a blur of laughter and stories, the sun beginning its slow descent as they made their way to the Han River. They walked along the sandy shore, the breeze gentle and cool. The city lights flickered on, their reflections shimmering on the water’s surface.

Felix kicked off his shoes, sprinting toward the edge of the water. “Race you!” he shouted, grinning over his shoulder.

She hesitated but then followed, her laughter echoing behind him. “You cheater!”

They chased each other, feet sinking into the soft sand, splashing at the water’s edge. Felix turned abruptly, sending a playful spray of water her way. She yelped, trying to dodge, but failed spectacularly, the bottom of her hoodie getting soaked.

“Felix!” she shrieked, eyes wide with shock before a mischievous glint appeared. “Oh, you’re so dead.”

He took off running, her footsteps pounding behind him. They stumbled back to the blanket they’d brought along, collapsing in a fit of laughter, breathless and tangled together. Felix’s fingers brushed against hers, and this time, she didn’t pull away.

They stayed there as the sky transitioned from pink to deep indigo, stars peeking through the velvet night. Felix’s heart felt full, his fingers still loosely linked with hers. “I wish today didn’t have to end,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

She looked at him, her eyes softening. “Yeah… me too.”

That night, back at Felix’s apartment, they fell asleep tangled together on his bed, the blankets a messy heap around them. Her head rested on his chest, his arm wrapped protectively around her. For the first time in a while, she looked peaceful, her body relaxed, her breathing steady.

But in the middle of the night, Felix woke up. He carefully slipped out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom. When he returned, he paused, his heart stopping.

The moonlight streamed through the blinds, illuminating her form curled up on his bed. Her arm was stretched above her head, her sleeve pushed up, revealing her wrist. Felix’s eyes widened, his breath hitching as he took in the thin, red lines that crisscrossed her skin. Some were faint, almost healed, but others were angry and raw.

His chest tightened painfully, his knees nearly buckling. How had he not seen this before? Why hadn’t she told him?

His vision blurred with tears as he moved slowly, almost robotically, back to the bed. He climbed in beside her, his arms wrapping around her, holding her close as he buried his face in her hair. His shoulders shook, silent sobs wracking his body. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t know,” he choked out, his tears soaking into her hoodie. “I should’ve known.”

Morning came slowly, light filtering in as she stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Felix’s face was the first thing she saw—his eyes swollen, red-rimmed, filled with a pain that made her stomach drop.

“Felix…?” she asked, her voice groggy. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer at first, his fingers brushing over her wrist before intertwining with hers, his touch gentle, protective. Her heart sank as she realized what he’d seen. She tried to pull her hand away, shame flooding her, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” his voice broke, tears sliding down his cheeks. “Why didn’t you trust me?”

She looked away, her own eyes stinging. “I… I didn’t want to burden you.”

Felix’s grip tightened, his body trembling. “You’re not a burden. You’re never a burden. I don’t care how heavy it feels… I want to carry it with you. I love you… every broken, hurting piece of you.” His voice cracked, raw and desperate. “Please… let me help.”

Her walls crumbled, tears spilling over as she broke down, her body shaking with sobs. Felix pulled her close, his arms wrapped around her as if trying to shield her from the pain. “I’m here,” he whispered, his voice thick. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Felix held her tightly, his heart shattering with each sob that wracked her body. He gently rocked them back and forth, his fingers threading through her hair as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. “You’re not alone… not anymore,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

She clung to him, her fingers curling into his shirt as if afraid he’d disappear. Her tears soaked through the fabric, her body trembling against his. Felix’s own tears slipped silently down his cheeks, but he didn’t let go, didn’t loosen his embrace. If anything, he held her tighter, anchoring her to him.

His lips brushed her forehead, soft and lingering. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “So much… more than you’ll ever know.” He moved lower, his lips ghosting over her temple, then her cheek, kissing away the tears that continued to fall. “You mean everything to me. You’re not a burden… you’re my reason to smile every day.”

She choked on a sob, her face burying deeper into his chest. “I… I didn’t want you to see… to know…”

“I wish you had told me,” Felix admitted, his voice raw. “But I get it. I do. I just… I just hate that you felt like you had to carry this alone.” He pulled back slightly, his hands cupping her face, his thumbs brushing away the dampness beneath her eyes. “You’re so strong… stronger than you think. But even the strongest people need someone to lean on.”

Her eyes widened, glistening with fresh tears. “I… I feel so broken, Felix. Like… like I’m drowning and I can’t get out.” Her voice cracked, her words heavy with pain. “I don’t know how to be okay.”

Felix’s heart shattered, the pain in her voice slicing through him. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against hers, his breath warm against her skin. “Then we’ll figure it out together,” he promised, his voice firm despite the tears choking him. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’ll be there every step of the way… even on the bad days, especially on the bad days.”

She let out a broken sob, her arms winding around his neck as she buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m scared…”

“I know, love,” Felix whispered, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back. “But you’re not facing it alone. I’m right here… and I’m not letting go.” He kissed her shoulder, his lips soft and lingering, pouring his heart into every touch. “We’ll fight this together. One day at a time. I’ll be with you for all of it.”

His lips trailed up her neck, feather-light, pressing delicate kisses along her jaw. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice fierce. “Nothing… nothing you go through will ever change that. Nothing you feel, nothing you think… it won’t make me leave.” He pulled back, his eyes searching hers, their faces inches apart. “I’m staying, no matter how dark it gets.”

Her bottom lip trembled, a fresh wave of tears spilling over. “Why?” she whispered, her voice so small, so broken. “Why do you love me?”

Felix’s face crumpled, his own tears falling freely now. “Because you’re you. Because you light up my world just by being here. Because even when you’re hurting, you’re still the most beautiful, kind-hearted person I’ve ever known.” He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a tender, trembling kiss. “Because you’re my everything.”

Her lips quivered beneath his, her hands tightening around him as she kissed him back, fragile and hesitant. Felix’s heart ached, his tears mixing with hers as he deepened the kiss, his fingers weaving into her hair. He kissed her like she was the most precious thing in the world, like she was the air he needed to breathe.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads touching, their breaths mingling, Felix cradled her face, his thumb tracing soothing patterns on her cheek. “Promise me… promise me you’ll let me in,” he begged, his voice raw. “I want to help. I want to be here for you. But I need you to let me.”

She closed her eyes, her shoulders trembling. “I’ll try,” she whispered, her voice wavering. “I don’t know how… but I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” Felix murmured, his lips brushing her forehead once more. “That’s all I need.”

They stayed that way, tangled together in each other’s warmth, the morning sun creeping higher, chasing away the shadows. Felix held her close, his heart beating steadily beneath her ear, his fingers running through her hair. And as the world outside began to wake, Felix continued to whisper his love, his promises, his hope.

No matter how long it took, no matter how hard the journey became, he would be there. For her. With her. Always.

@intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @omgsecretsecret @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght @flourishmoon @hyunjiiza

[kittykatkatelol]

will die on the hill that Hermes is the fucking best

like in every media he's in he's just the best

pjo , epic , etc

he's just awesome

[quantum1mmortality]

hihi! I saw your curly stuff, I love how you write him!! If it’s possible, nsfw headcanons for what turns him on? have a great day <3

Have I ever mentioned how much I love writing Curly? No? Well I am now. I love writing him. He's so awesome sauce, so boyfriend. My scrunkle

Tw/cw; lingerie, praise, mentions of masochism, accidentally almost wrote a one shot for the last one whoops lolololol, semi public sex IMPLIED

Not proofread

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1; Lingerie

You guys can't look at me and tell me this man wouldn't go BALLISTIC for a nice set of lingerie. He makes good money at his job, good enough to be able to buy multiple sets of high quality, lacy lingerie for you to wear for him; then make you do a fashion show for him when you get them. Curly definitely comes off as a thigh guy, so he'd pick out all the sets with garter belts, specifically so he can slip his fingers under the seam and let go to see all that thigh movement. It actually drives him wild. Those sets can be pretty expensive, so hopefully he gets a raise soon since he's tearing apart every set he gets you.

2; Praise

I know it's overdone to say a character gets turned on by being praised but idc. This man has a praise kink and I will DIE on that hill. For anyone else, a praise to him wouldn't matter. He hears them constantly in his line of work, so at this point it's just noise. But from you? You like something about him? Oh no, he's hard. You could compliment him on the most mundane of things, say his uniform looks good on him and he's thinking about that the entire time he's at work. By the time he gets home, he's in genuine pain at how turned on he's been ALL DAY and not being able to help himself. He could, but he'd rather you do it. He's quite the masochist.

3; Titles

Imagine this; you're the wife of a well respected captain at Pony Express, and you decide to be a good wife and bring your beloved husband lunch. How sweet! You go to his department and call out to him, "Captain, I've brought lunch for you~" you giggle, drawing out his title. He looks up from.. whatever he was doing only to find you, holding a lunch box with a smile. Okay stop imagining, it's headcanon time.

Obviously the first thing he's going to do is thank you for lunch, he was famished. But after that, it's all blurry. It's like being with you has unlocked a bunch of new experiences for him, he never thought being called his title, the title he earned, would turn him on so much. It's like hearing it come from you was completely different from anyone else saying it. You ended up staying his entire lunch break and talking to him, only for your words to fall on deaf ears. He could barely even focus on what he was eating, let alone what you were telling him. Eventually he just had to excuse himself from the conversation, leaving you alone as he attempted, ATTEMPTED to satisfy himself. After a while he just gave up and went back out to where you were, told you the situation, and asked for your help. He was practically begging you, what were you supposed to do? Leave him there? No, you're a good wife. Of course you'd help him, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n; sometimes I forget I'm supposed to be writing hcs and accidentally lock in too much and go on little tangents. I'm suffering from success but it kind of fucks the vibe up ngl

[minimujina]

sunday is so admirable. he is facing the shame and guilt of his actions with humility; he is somehow grappling with his identity in such a graceful manner. i just loved seeing his goodbye to penacony so much. welt witnessing all of it and how much they connected was so lovely. i know sunday is not an official member of the express, but he has so much fondness that he’s finally allowing himself to express again like when he was a kid and the astral express is such a good place for him i don’t want to think about him leaving i might cry lol. i know he has his own goals and wants to find or create a paradise, but i want him to also find a home in the astral express family bc that would be really awesome sauce. he already has specific things he deeply appreciates about each member and how they have impacted him even though he has barely been a passenger for long. he recognizes how different each of them is, how they all have had their own journey and motivations for being a nameless, and he is so contemplative and compassionate i just. ugh. i really really love his character. we were shown every side of him, not only all of these qualities ive mentioned but also the not so nice things, his flaws that remain and will continue to remain. but i just love nothing more than redemption arcs in characters. wanderer and sunday have me in a chokehold they’re so beautiful and heartfelt and sincere im going to cry

[earlysunshines]

strawberry-flavored kisses

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: it's valentines day so you and your amazing beautiful awesome lovely girlfriend bake cookies for your friends and loved ones (while also sharing sweet kisses in between)

warnings: noneeee pure fluff lolz ; established relationship ; they're so in love it PAINS me; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: happy valentines day!! (same y/n and dani from sunshine girl but also you don't have to read it first LOL it doesn't rly matter k bye enjoy!)

working on valentines day–especially as a barista—is like willingly walking through the gates of hell. the sheer number of couples waltzing in with their fingers intertwined, muttering sweet nothings while ordering the cherry blossom latte special is enough to send any single person in a spiral. 

unfortunately for your coworker soobin, today that barista is him.

he’s been stuck taking orders during the afternoon rush, forcing a polite smile each time a customer leans over to press kisses to their partners temple, hand, cheek, or even lips (which earns the most noticeable reaction from the guy). it happens more times than you can count on both hands, and each occurrence earns a subtle, annoyed scrunch of his nose.

you’re more than grateful that you work with your girlfriend, danielle, because if you didn’t—you’d probably be on the floor dying from heartache one hour in.

you and danielle share a knowing glance each time since you’re stuck together making all the drinks and serving the pastries in the display, both of you stifling laughter with each look. danielle is much sweeter than you are, so she tries to be subtle about her amusement. you, on the other hand, are not as merciful, watching soobin’s growing misery with shameless amusement.

soobin slides down the last receipt after the line of four couples is tended to, giving you a glare. “you guys are evil and i hate you both so much.” he groans before reaching over to grab a piece of strawberry tiramisu for another order. 

“it’s not my fault love is in the air~” you tease as you tamp down grinded beans, nudging danielle with your elbow.

danielle grins, lingering against you. “yeah, soobin. maybe you should try being happy for them! look at how cute they all are.”

soobin gives you both a deadpan look before calling out an order, and once he’s done, he says through gritted teeth, “easy for you lovebirds to say.”

just as you’re about to respond, another couple walks through the door, giggling as they gasp in awe at the pastries laid out. soobin sighs, putting on his customer service demeanor, and bracing himself while you and danielle bite down your laughter.

“i feel bad for him, y/n.” danielle mutters as she pours steamed milk into a cup, making a beautiful heart design. “he looks like he’s in actual, physical pain…” she adds, looking over to see the couple in front of the register sharing a quick peck before scanning the menu again.

“i think he’s going to pass out, or air out the place.” you murmur, watching as his fingers claw at the counter.

danielle looks around, then leans closer, her breath warm against your ear. you shiver at the proximity, feeling her lips brush against you just barely as she says, “maybe we should order the cherry blossom latte and hold hands while doing it. you know, just to mess with him.”

“i like the way you think.” you chuckle, smiling down at the shot you’ve just pulled. “maybe a kiss too?”

“you just want an excuse to kiss me, don’t you?”

“i don’t need one. after we clock out i’m gonna kiss you soooo much. just wanted to let you know.” you shrug, moving back to the other side of the espresso machine to weigh out coffee grinds. “my valentine’s day special.”

danielle rolls her eyes but smiles at you, biting her lip at your bold remark.

—

all three of you clock out at the same time when the other three evening shift workers clock in. you all head to the back, and soobin dramatically leans against the wall with his heart shaped doughnut that he stole from the display. you and danielle giggle, earning a defeated look from your poor coworker. 

danielle kisses your cheek in front of soobin before you two head out, earning another groan from him. even if he’s in lots of emotional pain, the tips from the dreadful shift were wonderful. you and danielle know how lovely the tips are on holidays, so you two made a plan prior to bake cookies for your friends, which is why you’re immediately on the way to the grocery store to spend your combined cash tips.

(you make sure to let soobin know that you’ll save some of your treats for him, telling him he can come by your place anytime he wants. it’s only fair considering he was on register duty most of the shift.

plus, it’s valentine’s day! it’s only fair to spread the love you two have for your loved ones.)

the grocery store is also filled with a handful of last-minute valentine’s day shoppers, but you and danielle still manage to fill your basket without much waiting or trouble. she sings along to can’t take my eyes off of you—which is playing louder than usual on the speakers—with a packet of chocolates in her hand as the microphone. you laugh, taking a video of her when she skips down the aisle singing happily. 

by the time you get back to your house, the kitchen smells like butter and sugar, and the speakers are playing your carefully curated valentines playlist. can i call you rose? starts playing and you suddenly stop stirring the strawberries you’ve been boiling on low, gasping dramatically, “this is my song.”

danielle giggles at your antics and squeaks when you pull her away from the counter suddenly to serenade her lovingly.

“can i call you rose?” you sing, before twirling her around. “cause you’re sweeeeet like a flowerrrr in bloooom~”

“you’re so cheesy,” danielle giggles, twirling you around right after she says it. “you’re going to burn the jam!”

“soobin’s disease spread to you,” you joke.

“and what disease would that be?”

“being single.”

she rolls her eyes at your response before leaning in to kiss your nose. “i’m immune to that because of you, silly.”

not so long after you sway side to side playfully, you return to your baking duties. she mixes the wet ingredients while you finish up the jam, and you steal loving glances at her when she’s too focused to notice.

both of you are side by side again once you bring out the finished jam, placing it on the counter she’s now rolling the dough on. she hands you golfball-sized piece for you to shape, laughing at how carefully you work with it.

“you’re putting extra effort into these, huh?” danielle teases, watching as you carefully press your thumb into the dough.

“i have to. hyein will insult me like crazy if they’re ugly.”

she laughs, bumping her shoulder against yours. “true. minji and hanni will definitely do the same if they turn out deformed…”

you snicker, then continue to perfect your first cookie out of many. 

you and danielle work silently as the music in the background hums. you glance at danielle, who’s sleeves are rolled up as she pours jam into the small, heart-shaped dent in the cookie. there’s flour on he cheek, and when you reach over to brush it off, she scrunches her nose at the ticklish feeling.

“you have some on your sweater too.” she teases, pointing at the flour on your clothes.

“yeah, yeah.” 

the two of you fall into an easy rhythm, shaping the cookies together and pressing small hearts into the center for jam. you’re focused on the start of your seventh cookie when you catch danielle sneaking a spoonful of jam in the corner of your eye.

“that’s for the cookies!” you scold, nudging her playfully. 

“i had to make sure it’s good!” she argues, licking jam off the corner of her lip. 

“oh, so you don’t trust me? wow…” you huff.

“i just needed to make sure!”

“there’s only a limited amount of—” before you can finish your sentence, danielle suddenly leans in, using her fingers to tilt your chin down before kissing you softly. you get a taste of the jam, it’s almost as sweet as the person kissing you—literally. you hum, feeling your shoulders relax as her fingers sneak to the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

she pulls away and grins like she’s just gotten away with something. “there,” she murmurs against your lips. “good, right?”

your brain short-circuits for a moment before you blink at her, your face heating up. “you’re so—”

“amazing? yes, i know. now stop distracting me! we have to finish these cookies…”

“you’re the one who—” she cuts you off again, kissing you a little longer than last time before parting fully. you giggle at her antics, nudging her. “do you like the jam or did you just want to kiss me?” you question with feigned annoyance.

she hums thoughtfully, tapping her chin with her finger like a cartoon character. “all of the above.” she says while flashing a cheeky smile.

and just like that she gets back to work, leaving you flustered and giddy. you angle yourself weirdly to press a kiss to her cheek, earning a giggle before she tells you to finish up your cookie.

—

once you finish making a little over three dozen cookies, you and danielle are beat.

you both clean up a bit before washing your hands, set a timer, and then danielle flops onto the couch. you follow after, sitting next to her and leaning your head against hers. she shifts and puts her arm around you, pinching your cheek with two fingers.

“tired?” she asks.

“yes…” you respond. “but not too tired to kiss you…?” you add, turning your head to stare at her lips.

she leans closer, pecking your lips quickly before responding, “wow, cupid must’ve hit bullseye on your heart.”

“now look who’s so cheesy.” you giggle, nose brushing against hers. 

“yes because i love you, my valentine.”

“i love you too.” you say before meeting her lips in a tender, loving kiss.

your playful exchange of kisses lasts a few minutes, and you plan to continue until the timer rings. what you didn’t take into consideration was the fact that your younger cousin—hyein—would be back home so soon. 

and so, when you hear a dramatic groan along with the door closing, you two pull apart with flushed faces.

“oh my god, gross…” you hear from the entrance, turning around to see hyein with a half-disgusted and half-amused look on her face. “just because it’s valentines day doesn’t mean you get to be all lovey-dovey on my couch.”

“but we made cookies to share…” you respond defeatedly.

“were you guys being lovey-dovey while making them?” you open your mouth to reply, but pause, and hyein takes that opportunity to groan even louder. “gross…”

“oh shut up, i know you’re gonna devour like five of them in the same minute.”

“hey!” 

danielle giggles at the banter, and then all of you turn your heads toward the oven when the timer rings. 

“i promise the cookies are good. please take some as an apology?” danielle suggests, “there’s strawberry jam on them, and it’s really good.” she adds as she pinches your forearm, reminding you of the strawberry-flavored kisses from earlier. you blush.

hyein laughs, then happily sets her bag down before rushing over to the oven. you give danielle a look and she gives you the same one back before kissing you quick enough so hyein doesn’t notice.

“happy valentines day. i love you.” she says, tugging at your hand. “let’s go eat these cookies… we might need to make another batch if they’re too good.”

you laugh, following her to the kitchen island. “yeah, i was thinking that too. maybe being considerate wasn’t the best idea.” you joke, then kiss her forehead before muttering, “happy valentines day. i love you more.”

you hear hyein groan once more.

“i’ve seen enough couples at school today and i do not need to see another show of pda in the comfort of my own home.” hyein says loudly. “can you take the cookies out now?”

you scoff playfully before finding the oven mitts, smacking hyein on the head with them before you open up the oven to take out the first tray. the scent of the cookies fill the house with a sweet, irresistible aroma.

(but not as sweet or irresistible as your lovely valentine.

nothing can beat her at that.)

[coffeeshopguest]

I stumbled upon an ad for like an inflatable sex bed(you can search it up if you dont Know) and I need a fanfic asap which the farmer like bought one without knowing what it was and like Sebastian coming over and seeing it and the end up "testing" it out ifykm (BTW LOVE UR WORK)

The "Air Mattress"

Word Count: 1793 Pairing: Sebastian x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of smoking, unprotected sex, swearing, vaginal sex (should be all, lmk if I missed any!)  (Art by @.mkun on steamcommunity)

The package outside of the farm surprised Sebastian, what could you have possibly ordered this time? Never the less, he plucked it off the steps of the porch and knocked on the door. He was over to hangout for a bit, so he might as well carry the thing in. The door swung open and he smiled a little, your face brightening when you saw the package in his hands. "Oh! It's here! Awesome! Thanks," you quickly took the package from his hand and set it on the table.

"So, what is it?" Sebastian asked, leaning on the table a bit and looking at the package.

"I got a new air mattress online, well, an air couch - I think it said? I don't know, it randomly popped up. I barely looked at it."

"You just, randomly bought an air mattress?"

"Yeah! I've been having friends over more and I know it can be an annoying walk back to down in the dark, so I thought this would help," you smiled, looking back up at Sebastian and he couldn't help but smile back. Always thinking of others. So excited. 

Well, it was just an air mattress. Nothing interesting, so the hangout presumed and the package remained forgotten on the table without a second thought. 

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Sebastian knocked on the door, sucker hanging out of his mouth a little. He'd been- 'trying' to quit. As in, he'd lessened the amount he smoked but he still smoked whenever he wanted. The sucker was just a distraction for him if he wasn't sure he actually wanted to smoke. He could hear the sound of something being inflated and he wondered for a moment, forgetting when you opened the door slowly. "Bad time?" he asked, frowning slightly at your facial expression.

"No, no...uh, it's fine..." you opened the door more, and he could see off to the side was - no. No it couldn't be. A fucking inflatable sex bed?

"Uhm, that new?" he joked, facing flushing a little, the sucker almost fully falling out of his mouth. You looked at it, frowning more as you stared at the inflatable bed before you. 

"I- uh, looked back at the purchase when I opened the package...and..." 

"It's a sex bed?" he offered, smirking slightly, he walked up to it. You had actually put the damn thing together. Handles, handcuffs hooked on it. You'd actually put it completely together. "Why didn't you just...leave it?"

"Well - there isn't a refund for it so I thought if I put it together I could maybe figure out how to make it seem less..." you sighed, rubbing your forehead a little. "Less..."

Sebastian snorted, "less like a sex bed?" he asked, as he looked at it, "well, the handcuffs clipped to it don't help at all," he added with a mock tone of helpfulness. Then, he began to smirk even more. 

He popped the sucker out of his mouth, walking up to the bed on the floor and crouching down, "so...like...it's for couples to try out positions on, and all that?" he voiced, glancing back at you. You looked absolutely mortified at the fact he was standing near it and that only made Sebastian smile more. 

"I guess..."

Standing back up he walked to the kitchen, trashing his sucker, he unzipped his jacket and rested it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He gently leaned against the chair, studying you. "Well if you can't get a refund on it, I suppose we might as well test the thing out. See if it's worth the money. What'd you spend on the thing anyway?" 

He couldn't help but laugh a little at the way your eyes widened in slight shock at his comment, "uh...$70ish maybe?" you mumbled, eyes quickly looking away from Sebastian. He could feel himself nearly chuckle, but he kept it in. "Test it out?" you finally added slowly, looking up at him. 

"Yeah, you know, test the thing out? Might as well, what else can you do with it?" he asked easily, slowly walking back over towards the inflated bed. "Let's see how it goes." 

Your head bobbed pathetically in agreement and Sebastian smiled slightly, lips connecting with yours. He easily leaned you against the mattress, making sure you were comfortable the entire time. Sure you'd had feelings for Sebastian that had sat with you since you'd originally moved into Pelican Town, and sure you'd wanted to be with him for a while - this wasn't exactly the way you'd anticipated it happening though - not that you were complaining. 

He propped his knees on the bed, keeping you laid back, his lips trailed to your jaw, moving towards your neck.. Soft teeth biting at your sensitive skin, you felt a pathetic whine escape your lips. "Sebastian~" you could feel the smirk against your skin causing shivers to run down you. 

"God, you are so reactive, hm?" his hands moved from beside your body, quickly running down your skin, he tugged at the hem of your shirt but stopped before trying to take it off. Instead his lips trailed to your collarbone, nipping softly there. His tongue lapped at the skin, swirling over the spots he'd bitten and you knew he was leaving hickeys on you - hickeys that your summer clothes wouldn't conceal. Your hands ran up to his hair, raking your fingers through it. Once you reached the middle, your fingers gripped, tugging slightly. He let out a soft groan. "Fuck...alright, impatient," his lips reconnected with yours upon your tug. 

You let his hands wander up your shirt, cupping your breasts through your bra, slowly his thumb rolled over your nipple as it hardened under his touch. Your hips pathetically rolled underneath him, trying to gain any friction. Any satisfaction you could get. Bucking your hips up to try and meet his hips. With a smirk against your lips, Sebastian shoved his hips against you, the clothing between you two left you feeling unsatisfied even as he humped you through the clothing. "M-more?" you practically whined out, fingers pulling on his dyed locks.  He pulled back with a grin.

"Needy, hm?" he quickly ripped off your shirt, "s'okay, I find it hot," he added, lips reconnecting with your collarbone, hands running to your back, finding the bra clasp and quickly fumbling to undo it. As expert as he was with words and attitude, this was the moment you realized he might be a little inexperienced. He struggled, a soft cuss escaping him before he gave up. Instead he tugged it over your head, throwing it aside. He propped your back against the mattress, slowly spreading your legs. "Mind handcuffs?" he asked, but he was already cuffing you. You shook your head, letting him cuff you to to bed.

"Don't mind-" you murmured before his lips reconnected with yours. His tongue slowly graced along your bottom lip, before his teeth bit at it, you quickly opened your mouth and he slipped his tongue into your mouth and eagerly explored it. After a few moments, he pulled back, panting, he propped himself back, examining you laying on the bed. Hands handcuffed to the sides. Shirtless. His eyes flickered down to your jeans and then back up to your eyes. 

Hesitantly, he moved to unzip your jeans, unbuttoning slowly. "You alright with this?" he whispered slowly. You nodded eagerly. 

"More than," he smiled at that answer, slowly unzipping the jeans. He easily took them off, throwing them aside. Leaving you in just panties. He studied you like this, eyes raking over your body eagerly. His hand gently rubbed you through the panties, lips kissing yours. Moans escaped your lips, and as your lips parted his tongue slipped back into your mouth. When he decided he made you eager enough - a pathetic wet spot soaking through your panties, he finally took those off. 

He didn't say anything for a moment, making you feel vulnerable. Your body instinctively moved to close your legs, but Sebastian caught them, slowly spreading them. He smiled softly. "I've wanted to do this for so long, don't hide from me," he whispered, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. "Been thinking about this since I saw this bed." 

Sebastian undid his own jeans, and through his boxers you saw his erection sticking up.  Once those were off you finally saw him. Eyes widening a little, he smirked slightly. "Nervous? That's okay, it's my first time too," he placed another kiss on your forehead, hands moving to grip the bed above your head. Slowly, he moved to shove himself in. Just the tip first, you bit your lip pathetically as whines erupted from you. He stopped, waiting for you to take the tip without complaint - once you seemed calm he began pushing more. It took a few minutes, and the occasional reassurance, before he was fully in. "I'm gonna thrust now, okay?" you nodded weakly as he slowly pulled back, then pushed himself back in. Your hands pathetically moved to try and grip him, but the handcuffs kept them in place. "S'okay, baby, next time I'll take those off and you can rake those nails down my back, how does that sound?"

"So...so good~" you whimpered back, moaning as he pulled out and slowly pushed back in. For a while he let you adjust to this steady pace, not increasing until you seemed comfortable and then picking it up. He became a little eager, gripping the bed and tossing his head back as he thrusted into you. The slapping sound filled the room as you slowly bucked your hips up to meet him. Soft groans escaped him, and he bit his lip a little as he thrusted, lost in the feeling. 

Your walls tightly clenched around him, and Sebastian let out a pathetic whine of pleasure, his hands gripping the bed. Moaning out his pace picked up, hearing the slapping sound of skin and the intertwined moans made you get even closer. "Cum...cum on my dick, please...fuck," Sebastian encouraged, grunting as he tried his best to give you as much satisfaction as possible. You felt the heat in your stomach, the tightening knot, and then your mind fell blank. Saying his name like a mantra, Sebastian groaned out, head thrown back as you came all over his dick, quickly he pulled out, spilling his seed onto your stomach.

"Please...please tell me you're keeping the mattress?" he asked, as he slowly pried himself off you. 

Tag List:

@essenceofsunflower 

comment if you want to be tagged in future sebastian fics!

[fallrafwe]

,,DON’T BE DIFFICULT”

a/n: read pt 1 if u haven’t, also would u guys read something that’s heavily inspired by waves 2019? except its just wrestler!rafe & reader, not tyler & alexis

warnings: dark!rafe, strong language, mention of pregnancy, threats are made, manipulation, DUBCON/NONCON, oral sex (cunnilingus), anal sex, some softish!rafe

summary: after not being able to get birth control, you take a pregnancy test and it escalates when rafe comes over unexpectedly

It’s been three weeks since you’ve last talked to Rafe. You ran over to Tannyhill, banging on the doors that greet you. “Rafe, open the fucking door!” You screamed, you were so panicked, you had no way to get birth control, if it would even work by now, and there was absolutely no way in hell you’re telling anybody what happened with you and Rafe. Nobody was answering so you were just standing there, banging on the door like a complete maniac.

Taking deep breaths, you paced back and forth. After waiting for about five minutes, still no one came. You started crying before walking home. After ten minutes of walking, you were back home. You started rummaging through cabinets, trying to find something, birth control, pills, a pregnancy test.. and you did. You found a pregnancy test left by your mom, and you did it.

After peeing on it, you put the cap back on then set it on the counter, and now you had the worst part, waiting for five minutes. You were just biting your nails, patiently looking at the clock plastered on the wall. It felt like hours til it was finally five minutes, you immediately rushed over to the bathroom, grabbing the test from the counter. Bringing it to your eyes, your heart dropped.

You felt partially disgusted and barely happy, but how were you gonna tell Rafe? You can’t just keep it a secret, but you also could. You were pregnant, because of Rafe. You were pregnant because he did something you didn’t want him to do. But you always thought of being a mom, how awesome it would be, how happy you would be.

The tears came running out of your eyes because you couldn’t deal with all the thoughts, you just laid on the bathroom floor and bawled your eyes out. All of a sudden you heard a dirtbike engine, and you know two people who ride one, Rafe and JJ. You ran to your window with the pregnancy test in your hand and peeked out, seeing Rafe.

He put his helmet on his handle, and walked up to your door and knocked. You stepped back from the window, and made your way to the door, carefully opening it. Rafe looked down at you and saw your rosy face, tears evident. You couldn’t help but just hug him right there and start breaking down into his chest, he wrapped his arms around you in disbelief and tried to comfort you, but he had no experience in it.

Rafe guided you inside slowly and shut the door with one hand, placing his arm back on you. You felt safe in his arms, which was unbelievable. He forced you to have sex with him, and you’re acting like he cares about you, hell, he himself is acting like he cares. He pulled you out of the prolonged hug, “What happened?” he sounded hesitant to even let those words fall out of his mouth.

Your hand shook slightly as you held your hand to give him the test, he took it and he didn’t know how to feel. His lips parted, “Fuck, fuck. Shit, I’m sorry.” he said, and he could feel the regret rising, but you were already at your breaking point. “What the fuck do you mean you’re sorry? You fucking raped me and didn’t even care about birth control!” You yelled, and pushed him. He just looked at you in the eyes, “Don’t fucking push me.” he said sternly. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do! You’re such a prick!” As soon as the words left your mouth, your cheek was quickly met with a slap.

Tears quickly formed in your eyes when he grabbed your jaw, forcing eye contact. “Don’t.. don’t fucking be like that, you know you don’t mean it.” You mouthed the word okay, and he let go. “Are you.. are you gonna keep it?”

You thought about it and you didn’t know, “Rafe, I.. I don’t know. You— you forced me to have sex with you! Wh..why are you only asking if I’m gonna keep it, what the fuck is wrong with you?” you screamed. Anger was boiling in your stomach as he came closer, “Don’t fucking come near me!” you pushed him away but he grabbed your arms. “Come here.” He said, you were just shaking your head as he pulled you in closer, you were trying to escape his grasp, but something about how he was treating you felt so respectable even though nothing he did ever was.

You let yourself out of his grasp after a few seconds, not even wanting to be in his arms, and he loosened his grip in acceptance as you did. “I’m sorry.” He said blatantly, expecting you to forgive him. Rafe didn’t even know if he was truly sorry, he was just saying it. “Yeah, I know.” You said softly, brushing it off. He grabbed your wrist and you looked at him. “Keep the baby.” It didn’t even sound like he was asking, just like he was demanding you to.

“Rafe, it’s my fucking body. I’ll decide what to do with it, not you.” A sharp pain then rose in your wrist, it was being twisted by his large hand. You were gasping at the stinging pain, “Keep the baby or I’ll spread so many fucking lies about you, nobody will want to even be near you.” he threatened. You just stared at him at the pain grew further, you literally had two options, a broken wrist or keeping a baby, so you decided. “Fine, fine! Let go, please! I’ll keep it!” You shouted in response, he let go of your wrist, making you hold it in pain. A bruise was left from how tightly he was gripping you.

He smiled in response, ��Good. We would make good parents, right?” he replied. You nodded your head, “Yeah.. yeah.” he then walked closer to you and held your waist. He crouched down a little and kissed you, you were surprised but you leaned into it and closed your eyes. He put a hand onto your cheek, and pulled away from the heated kiss, he was looking around but you didn’t know what for. He then lifted you up, making you gasp in surprise and cling onto his back with your legs.

Rafe placed you down on the counter, and immediately went back to kissing you, you gasped as he stopped and started kissing your neck. You didn’t want anything to do with him, but you let it happen because you didn’t know what to do. He told you to lift your arms up, so you did and he took off your top and in clipped your bra slowly, throwing it to the side. You went to cover yourself up out of embarrassment but he shook his head and put your arms to the side.

You rubbed your legs together to get rid of the tension, but it wasn’t left unnoticed by Rafe. He kissed you, from your stomach to your thighs. He started kissing your inner thighs before pulling your shorts down, throwing them on the floor then admiring the view he was given. Your panties were soaked through, and he laughed. “This wet f’me, huh?” He took his thumb and massaged your clit through the fabric, making you throw your head back a little in pleasure.

“Don’t cum.” He demanded, you nodded, he then stopped to pull down your panties and throw them on the floor too, making you whine from the loss of pleasure. You then moaned softly as his mouth collided with your clit, his tongue was lapping over it gracefully as he took two fingers and pushed them into your desperate entrance. Your voice was becoming louder as his fingers curled up into your g-spot, “Fuck, m’gonna cum, Rafe.”

“Y’better hold it,” he said taking his mouth off your clit for a second before licking a long stripe up your pussy. His fingers got harsher as the knot in your stomach eventually bursted, making you cum around his fingers in pleasure. He recognized your orgasm from how you pulsated around his fingers, he tutted as he pulled away from your clit and removed his fingers.

You were quickly pulled off the counter and turned over, your ass rewarded with a smack. You jolted forward in surprise as he pulled his hand away from your ass and pulled his shorts and boxers down, fisting his cock a little. He didn’t bother with lube since he had his precum ready, “Just remember you asked for this.”

A sharp pain immediately hit you as you recognized what he was doing, he was doing anal. You cried out in pain, “Shit, Rafe, stop!” you pleaded. He didn’t budge, “Well, you don’t wanna any more babies, do you?” he said, playfully smirking. Tears fell down your eyes as he continued, the throbbing pain was so harsh. It made you just wanna die, you didn’t want him to keep treating you like his own little toy.

He let out a little groan as he took deeper and smaller thrusts, bringing himself to his climax as he admired your sobbing. He lowered himself to your neck, putting his hands on your waist. The skin to skin contact made you shiver, “This was the last time.” he said, so obviously lying as he pulled out. He backed up from you as he pulled his shorts and underwear up, letting you free.

You were just on the counter, sniffling as you wiped the tear from your eyes. You carefully gathered your bra and top, you put the straps over your shoulders, and before you could hook it yourself, Rafe did it for you. It made you smile but it quickly disappeared, just remembering everything he has done to you. You put your top on then searched the floor for your underwear and shorts, you found them eventually and put them back on.

Rafe was just admiring your every move. You just stood there when you were done putting everything back on, he uncrossed his arms as he came up from behind and put his hands on your waist, your hands found his and your hands rested on the blonds. You tilted your head to the side as he kissed your neck, “We can be together.” your heart dropped. You didn’t wanna be with him, he would be abusive, abusive and toxic. But he was forcing you to keep the baby, and you’re poor, you would need help supporting it.

Your head subconsciously started nodding, and you felt him smile against your neck. You didn’t know if you were ready for this, seeing as he just forced you to do yet another thing you didn’t wanna do. You know he wouldn’t be the perfect boyfriend, if anything, he would be far from perfect. And that made you truly scared.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Hello again wonderful person of the Internet!

Thank you for answering my previous question! But I have came to you for another one.

So I’ve seen a little bit of dialogue from Ford, but how does he speak? Like what is his speaking mannerisms? Is it all gibberish? Does he stutter? Does he repeat words?

Keep on making your art and being awesome! :)

~ Question asked from the Tiniest Cyclops ~

Hello, hello again, tiny cyclops in my inbox!

As I mentioned in this post where I go a bit more in depth on Ford's brain injury, Ford suffers from aphasia! Which is basically the loss of one's ability to express language and communicate, while not losing the ability to understand it. But I'm sure you already knew this; and if not, the more you know!

How does he speak? It really depends when you were to go up and talk to him in the timeline. His speech mannerisms the few following years right after his head trauma is very different from how he speaks now in canon! He's had 30 years to recover, after all.

Ford's speech right after his injury was practically non-exitstent. He was smacked in the face with all of the textbook definition symptoms of aphasia, ramped up to 100.

Speaking in short or incomplete sentences.

Speaking in sentences that don't make sense.

Substituting one word for another or one sound for another.

Speak unrecognizable words.

Have difficulty finding words.

Conversations with him back then were not "gibberish" per se, but more so just... slow. And frustrating for everyone involved, although no one could ever be more frustrated than Ford himself. I mean, can you imagine? He could barely say anything without monumental effort, and whatever meager words he managed to squeeze out of his throat were lackluster, to say the least. Every part of his speech were hindered: grammar, pronunciation, heck, even the tone, volume and rythm of his speech didn't always come out correctly.

Due to how recent his brain injury was, there was also the added physical impairments to his speech. The muscles involved in producing speech were weakened, affecting Ford's control and clarity of his words (this is also called: dysarthria).

From an outsider's perspective, listening to him would have felt a little like listening to an extremely corrupted audio file, or a faulty record player. He would often take long pauses in the middle of his words; his words sometimes blended into one another; and his sentences were short, and simple. I think this quote from this website explains it best.

"Speech may be 'telegraphic' omitting small words such as 'the'. So, 'tomorrow I'm going to the pub with my wife for our anniversary', may be expressed as 'tomorrow...pub... wife... anniversary'. This requires the listener to accurately piece the message together."

So, yeah! As you can imagine, speaking for him was extremely hard. Often times, the townfolk he tried to speak to didn't have the patience to stick around while he finished a sentence, and gradually even Ford lost patience with himself, so he just. Gave up. Which was why he used to be much quieter in the beginning, lurking around town wordlessly, not even really bothering even when someone tried to initiate conversation with him. For a genius who once prided himself so much of his eloquence, losing that ability was a huge blow for him.

How fast one recovers from aphasia really depends on the severity of the injury. It can either take up to a few hours, days, maybe even weeks to fully reover with no long term repercussions, or the symptoms can last months, even years to shake off, and occasionally it's a lifelong condition. Ford, due to the severity of his injury, drew the short end of the stick, and was stuck with the lingering aftereffects of aphasia pretty much forever.

BUT, he evenutally managed to find the will to speak again! At some point during his 30 years of recovery, he decided that he'll figure this shit out himself, goddamnit, he was a scientist. He outsmarted a demon! He didn't have time to be depressed, he needed to relearn how to SPEAK!! (fuck yeah, determination, baby).

And learn he did. Very painfully, very gradually, Ford became basically his own speech therapist for a few decades and relearned everything his body and brain forgot. And although the results aren't perfect- he still stutters, he still gets stuck on words and he still stumbles over them- considering the fact that he had no professional treatment from a clinic or doctor available, it was good enough.

Now he won't shut up! (lovingly)

[reidsaurora]

Your event is so cute!!! Could I get a sun kissed Malibu dream house with Aaron?? 🥹 in need of some fluff with him hehe

i am so so sorry this took me so long to write! writer's block these past few months has been kicking my butt. but, thanks to my awesome betas, i think i wrote something you'll like! hope you enjoy!

"Summer Lovin" ~ A. Hotchner

Summary: As the start of summer arrives, you and your friends at the BAU find yourselves feeling a bit reminiscent of the summers before. Along with that reminiscence, you start to miss the days when you and Aaron had little babies instead of big kids…

Pairing: Dad!Aaron Hotchner x Mom!Reader

Word Count: 2,019

Content Warning: lots of talk of babies/pregnancy, sexual humor, kind of fade to black smut if you read between the lines lol, small mention of food, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i'm so sorry this took so long, i had a very hard time writing this and def meant to post it sooner. however, in the spirit of my city being under a heat advisory today, this feels appropriate to post 😂

Originally Written: 06/04/2024 through 06/25/2024

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold and @virtual-vivi 🫶🏻🩷

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Summer Celebration info can be found here!

Sun Kissed - fluff requests

Malibu Dream House - domestic!au

Aaron tossed off the blanket, letting out a small sigh of relief. “When did it get so hot?” he grumbled, his morning voice prominent. As he rolled over to his back, you spotted a big wet spot on the front of his tee shirt from just how much he was sweating.

Still, you scooted closer to him anyway and tossed an arm over his abdomen, his familiar scent filling your senses. “News said there’d be an excessive heat wave today.”

“It's probably ninety degrees already,” he complained, “and it's not even 9:00 yet.”

Rolling onto your side to face him, you left a trail of kisses along his jawline. “Hey, Mr. Grumpy Gills,” you giggled, referencing one of your kids’ favorite movies. “When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?”

“It's sweltering! How in the world could you possibly want to cuddle right now?” Aaron ignored your attempt to brighten the mood, instead opting to toss a pillow over his head and groan into it.

You just pulled the pillow away and left another peck on his jaw. “Because I love you. And because our children are gonna come in here any minute to take you away from me.”

He noticed the small pout that followed your statement, the expression enough to soften even Aaron Hotchner, king of stoicism, up. “Alright, fine. I'll allow it. But only because you drive a hard bargain.”

Your pout was replaced with a smirk as you snuggled closer into his side. “Mmm, that means a lot, coming from an ex-prosecutor. Maybe I should've gone to law school with you.”

“You're too sensitive for the big house, or whatever they say,” Aaron snickered. After noticing your look of offense, he quickly covered with, “I didn't mean it in a bad way. You have feelings. It's a very nice thing to come home to after dealing with emotionless psychopaths all day.”

“I think you're trying to compliment me. I'll take it.”

His lips met yours for a quick peck before saying, “I have nothing but compliments for you, my love,” Then, he met you with a second, much longer kiss, and while he tasted like morning breath, moments like this were so rare that you were willing to look past it.

One of his large hands met your leg, his calloused fingertips trailing along your bare skin. It felt like a lifetime since you'd been like this, with two children always needing your attention and the FBI always needing Aaron's. Just a simple touch of his fingers had you forgetting about the outside world, if even for just a moment.

Your lips met his neck, his stubble scratchy against your skin. He'd been away on a case in Seattle for about a week, and you were certain he hadn't shaved the whole trip. You liked it that way anyway.

His hand traveled further up under your nightgown, settling on your thigh. He squeezed the supple skin, a gesture of both affection and want.

“Are you trying to go for number three?” you joked before kissing his neck once more.

“Believe me,” Aaron chuckled, “if I knew I had enough time, I'd certainly try.”

As if on cue, four scurrying feet came stamping across the hardwood floor into your bedroom. “Good morning, Daddy!” both of your children yelled in sync, climbing onto the edge of the bed.

“That's why you're not allowed a third,” you mumbled into his ear. “The ones you have don't even appreciate me.”

“They love you, I promise,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. To the kids, he said, “Good morning. Don't you have anything else you want to say?”

They both turned to you, sheepish looks coming across their tiny, adorable faces. “Good morning, Mommy.”

“That's better,” Aaron said, gaining him a snicker from you. “Now, may I ask why the two of you are up so early and you're already in your swimsuits?”

It was then that you realized he was right. Jack, the older of your children, was sporting his favorite Spiderman swim trunks, while his little sister, Libby, had managed to dress herself in a cherry-print swimsuit she hadn't quite grown into yet. They made your heart melt.

“Daddy,” Libby sighed, clearly exasperated with her father, “don't you know what day it is?”

It happened to be the day your kids hadn't stopped talking about for weeks: the beginning-of-summer pool party you and Aaron threw every year for your friends and his coworkers at the BAU.

Aaron tapped a finger against his chin, his brows furrowing as he thought. “Let's see… it's not Libby’s birthday, and it's not Jack’s birthday, it's not my birthday, and I don't think it's your mom’s birthday,” his last comment earned him a sarcastic look from you. “Hmm, what day could it be?”

You joined in on his little game, tapping against your chin as you pretended to think. “Perhaps it's Christmas?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at you. “It's too early in the year for Christmas,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You're right.” As you continued tapping your finger, you shot Aaron a knowing look, which he gladly returned. He could tell by the gleam in your eye exactly what you meant with that look. “Is it…”

Each of you grabbed a kid, tickling and eliciting little squeals and giggles. “Pool party day?!” the two of you shouted in sync.

Libby thrashed around in your arms, laughing and squirming, while Jack attempted to escape his father's arms. Moments like these were almost as rare as the ones with just you and Aaron, so you had to take advantage of them while you could.

“It's pool party day!” Libby squeaked, while Jack was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe.

Their smiles and laughs pulled at your heartstrings. You wondered when the universe decided to make your babies grow up, since it seemed like only yesterday when you had a newborn and a two-year-old.

Bringing yourself out of your nostalgic trance, you pulled yourself out of the bed, grabbing each kid by the hand. “Who wants to make pancakes while Daddy’s in the shower?”

—

Soon enough, all your friends had arrived and it felt like summer had too. Penelope and Spencer were currently entertaining all the kids, while the other men were crowded around the grill and the rest of the ladies were sitting poolside and working on their tans.

“You ever wonder if either of them will have kids?” JJ asked, nodding toward Penelope and Spencer.

“Spencer, a hundred percent,” Emily answered, like her statement was a fact. “Penelope, I'm not so sure.”

You were next to jump into the conversation, not even bothering to look up from your magazine. “Why do you ask, Jen?”

JJ let out a longing sigh. “It's been so long since we've had a baby around here.”

Putting the magazine down, you looked over to her, eyebrows creased. “Henry's only three. It hasn't been that long.”

“You don't miss having a baby at our get-togethers? Emily, where do you stand?”

“Don’t look at me,” Emily said with wide eyes. “If I didn't have to change another diaper for a lifetime, it still wouldn't be long enough.” She was the one person in the group that was rather indifferent to children, but babies, she'd rather not talk about or be around.

“Yeah, babies are nice,” you said, “but the pregnancy part? That's what I'd rather go a lifetime without.”

“Well, I'm sure there's one thing we can all agree on,” JJ snickered. “At least making the baby is fun.”

Emily tossed the pillow behind her back in the direction of her coworker, giggling all the while. “Jennifer!”

“What?” she laughed as she swatted the pillow away. “Am I wrong?”

You let out a small snicker yourself, shooting a glance in the direction of your husband, who was currently taking his turn in manning the grill.

Neither of your friends missed that look, both their mouths falling agape at the expression. “Spill!” they squealed in sync.

Penelope made her way over from the edge of the pool, her face overtaken by the brightest smile known to mankind. “I heard the ‘Someone has beans to spill’ variety of squeals and giggles. What am I missing?”

“Nothing,” you insisted with an eye roll.

Emily patted the edge of her chaise, welcoming Penelope over. “Come sit, we're gonna get it out of her. After all, two out of three of us are profilers.”

Your eyes narrowed at the brunette. “Do you forget that I also used to be a profiler before my kids came along?”

“Stop changing the subject,” Penelope said with a swat of her hand. “Spill your guts. What did I miss?”

“Well, we were talking about how it's been so long since anyone on the team, past or present, has had a kid,” Jennifer explained.

“And someone looked at her husband with that look,” Emily further explained.

You scoffed. “It was not that look.”

“It totally was,” your friends spoke in sync.

Penelope's face lit up like a child in a candy store, her mind clearly running rampant with ideas of what the look meant. “Oh my God, are you-”

“No!” you quickly interrupted, knowing exactly where that question was headed. “Not yet anyway,” you mumbled under your breath.

The three of them practically jumped out of their seats and gathered around you, all screams and smiles.

“We haven't even had the conversation yet!”

“But you're going to!” Penelope insisted.

You rolled your eyes, but internally, you couldn't be happier for the gift of friendship from these three women. Jennifer, the mom friend in more ways than one. Emily, the voice of reason who not-so-secretly had a funny side and always knew how to make you laugh. And Penelope, the perfect shoulder to cry on and perfect soul to confide in. Lucky didn't even begin to describe how you felt about knowing these women.

Suddenly, you found yourself— as Penelope had said— spilling your guts. “I don't know. This morning just felt… different. Like, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have another baby around.”

The three of them flooded you with comments of love and support, hugs wrapping around you from each direction. Having another baby would be different, of course, but your friends were making sure that you knew it would be a good kind of different.

“I still have to get Aaron on board, so no one get too excited,” you reminded them.

JJ was already way ahead of you. “We've got the kids, Rossi and Derek have the grill. Don't worry about anything out here. You and your man deserve a moment of free time.”

“Just so we're clear,” you said, pointing a finger as if to further prove your point, “we are just going to talk. No funny business.”

Emily snickered. “Yeah, the same way you guys used to ‘talk’ on the jet?” Your cheeks heated to a bright red shade at her comment.

“Ew, Hotch is in the mile high club?!” Penelope practically screamed. Luckily, everyone else seemed too engrossed in conversation to hear her, but you were still mortified nonetheless.

“Okay, scratch what I said. I'm actually going inside to give myself a lobotomy.”

And with that, your friends were shouting in sync different variations of “Have fun!”

Then, with a smile on your face from both the joy of friendship and the love you had for your husband, you found yourself heading over to the grill and pulling Aaron away. His reaction was nothing short of laughter as you practically dragged him toward the house, his shirt nearly coming off with how hard you were tugging it.

Lips met skin as you closed the back door behind you. Aaron let out another chuckle, though he surely wasn't protesting your affection. “Woah, that look in your eyes tells me you're the one thinking about number three,” he commented, referencing your words from that morning.

“Well,” you said as your fingers started to trail under the hem of his dark gray tee shirt. With another kiss to his neck, you continued, “About that…”

taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @paintlavillered @lavhoes @rhyanishere @danielle143 @handsupforamiracle @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @cwritesforfun @lover-of-books-and-tea

[leclercstars]

ROCKSTAR. [pt. 3]

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: It's the same thing as pt. 2 but from Lando's POV so it's even SMUTTIERRR!!

Warnings: 18+! Sexting, masturbation, mention of various sex acts, slight dom!Lando.

Lando was exhausted. He laid face down on his massive hotel bed, his boxers pulled low, hanging off the edge of his hips.

While his P3 finish was exciting, that wasn’t even the best part of his day. Some hot girl in the crowd had the best tits he had ever seen, and the fact that she was strutting around with his signature emblazoned across one of them was thrilling. And Oscar’s signature on the other? It doesn’t get much hotter than that, he mused to himself. 

He finally mustered the strength to open up his phone, and was taken right back to that moment at the paddock walk when he opened the photos. Her tits sat so perfectly, and her nipples were barely peeking through the fabric of her papaya-colored tank top. What he wouldn’t give to have his face smushed between them right now. If he was to die, that’s how he wanted it to happen. Suffocation by titties.

His phone buzzed and he noticed a notification pop up on the top of the screen. A text from the girl. It felt flirty, and he honestly could not resist the thought of seeing more of her. He shot back a response, essentially implying that he absolutely needed to see her naked. A few minutes passed. Fuck, had me messed this up by being too forward? He didn’t want to come off as desperate either. 

But his phone buzzed.

And it was the most glorious thing he had ever seen. 

Every curve was on display. The way her waist flowed so effortlessly into her hips. And most importantly, her perfect tits were fully on display, nipples hard, pressed together as she leaned forward in the mirror. His and Oscar’s signatures were still visible, the faded words giving him a sense of ownership in the best way possible. He responded, hoping she would send more for him to gawk at. He couldn’t wait much longer though, as he felt the pressure of his erection growing under his boxers. Fuck it, he decided. If she sends more, awesome, but he knew just the one photo could get the job done.

He took his throbbing cock out and spit on his hand, stroking himself slowly. He relaxed his body back into the pillows, throwing his head back as his hand rubbed along his shaft. He was so fucking hard just because of a photo of this random girls tits that he felt like belonged to him and Oscar. He imagined how perfect they would look bouncing while she rode him, or how great it would feel to flick her nipples with his tongue. Precum was slowly starting to leak from his slit as he got closer and closer to the edge, an orgasm burning in his taut abs. He writhed with pleasure as he imagined tittyfucking her, playing with her nipples as he slid his wet cock between her soft boobs. 

His soft moans were turning into gasps as he edged himself, wanting to draw out the various scenarios that were running through his mind. He could hardly take it anymore, his unruly curls beginning to stick to his forehead as he circled his thumb around his tip.

Explosions of heat shot through his entire body, making him nearly scream as his cum shot all over his abs. The white substance was splattered all across his perfectly tanned abs. He slid his boxers back on and grabbed his phone. She must have fallen asleep while he was jacking off, but that wasn’t going to stop him. Plus, he thought the morning was the horniest time of day anyways. He took a picture of his cum-stained skin. “Thanks!” was all he wrote. He hoped she appreciated his cheeky response. He didn’t even know this girl’s name- but he was in Austin for one more day. And he would do a lot to have his hands replace her bra.

part 1

part 2 linked at the top ;)

PART FOUR??? IDKKKK I KINDA LOVE THIS SERIES

[revelboo]

You have mentioned, I think, a few times of the humans trying to avoid being sick. How would the bots react to their human being sick?

I'm just sick atm, you don't have to do anything if you don't want too

Dealing with the Human Being Sick Headcanons

TFP Soundwave x Reader

• Pausing in his typing when you make a noise he’s never heard, his helm tips toward your tiny frame. A tendril lifting as you curl into a ball, your little frame shaking as you keep making that violent noise. Drawing your knees up to your body as he loops his tendril about you, feeling those wracking sounds. And he’s bending over you, the side of his helm bumping your head. Because as soon as he touches you, that misery comes through loud and clear.

• Blinking up at Soundwave, even with no expression, it’s obvious your coughing is worrying him. “Think I’m getting sick,” you manage and he bumps you again, tendril curling tighter around you. Whatever he was working forgotten as he fusses over you, his other tendril whipping about to find and bring you every one of your blankets, pillows, any soft thing he’s ever gotten you and piling them up around you. Dragging water and food nearby, his helm lifting to look around like he’s trying to find anything else to give you and it’s so sweet, because he obviously isn’t sure what to do, but he’s trying. Settling yourself against the coil of the tendril, you tip your head to press a kiss against him when he tries to bump you with his helm again, feeling him freeze. “Thank you.”

IDW Prowl x Reader

• “Stop acting like a sparkling.” Hooking an arm around you, he drags you into his lap and grits his denta when you smack a palm against his jaw and try to shove him away. Do you have any idea how much energy mass shifting takes? “Behave,” he snarls, arms tightening around you, chin on top of your head until you finally give up and slump into his warmth. The shivering doesn’t stop, though. Servos finding bare skin, it’s a surprise to find you sweaty and much warmer to the touch than normal.

• “It’s a fever, you idiot,” he mutter, too exhausted to keep struggling against him. Why else would you have stripped down to your underclothes when he knows you can’t stand how cold his quarters are? He hadn’t bothered to ask, just frowning down at where you’d sprawled out on your belly, soaking in how cold his berth is against your feverish skin. And he’d dropped a blanket on you, scowling when you’d immediately slung it off and glared up at him. “I’m fine.” Venting against you to stir your hair, he refuses to let you go, practically wrapping himself around you when you’re already sweating and miserable. Like he’s worried and actually cares. Smothering you. “Some soup would be awesome,” you mutter, and it works. He lets you go, mass shifting to go hunt for a can as you snort. Hopefully there’s none in the Ark and you can sleep while he’s busy searching.

TFP Shockwave x Reader

• “Thirteen?” You’re usually awake by now, but you’re still curled up in the corner of your cage, your blanket tangled around your legs. It’s the rasping sound of your breathing that freezes him in reaching for you, because that sound isn’t normal. Almost wet sounding as your eyes open, head turning to stare up at him. Not smiling for him and his servos begin to tremble, the illogical chaos he keeps so carefully locked away, seeping out. Because something is wrong.

• He’s stuck again, unmoving aside from that faint tremor in his servos and the antenna on his helm flicking. You’ve seen it before, but usually he shakes it off. Covering your mouth as a cough shakes you, it’s an effort to sit up when you feel so awful. His one optic is flaring brighter, servos of his hand now flexing in almost spasms. “Shockwave?” Getting to your feet, you reach for him and he pulls away, that cannon powering up and lifting as his antenna go all the way back, head scanning the room like he’s looking for threats. Like he doesn’t know where he is and your breath catches. “Hey, can you get me some water? My throat’s raw,” you call out, trying to break him from whatever this is, because he’s scaring you. And slowly, his optic dims some and he looks down. Coming back to you as the danger passes.

IDW Starscream x Reader

• Fussing over you, his wings flick as he finds another blanket to tuck around you. “Fragile organics,” he mutters, using scorn to hide how much it upsets him, because he doesn’t know what to do. How to fix this. And you just curl into the nest he’s made you, absently reaching to pat his hand. Like everything is fine. Do you need a medic? Anything he can get you to make this stop? Because he hates feeling useless.

• Squinting up at Starscream as he adjusts your blankets again, you find his fidgeting too sweet, warmth spreading through you that he’s so worried about you. “It’s a cold. I’m fine,” you tell him for the third time, knowing he doesn’t quite believe you as he just vents before scooping you up blankets and all and relocating you to his desk. Apparently intending to sit and watch over you as he props his chin on his fist, optics running over you as he reaches to stroke your hair. So much for resting, but he means well.

IDW Bluestreak x Reader

• “Blue, I’m okay. Really,” you rasp, clinging to his servos as he completely ignores you in his panic, running for medbay with you tangled in the blankets you’d been sleeping in. It doesn’t matter that it’s just a cold, because he apparently thinks you’re going to die on him.

• Cradling you against him, he can feel how hot your skin is and can hear you reassuring him. Knows he needs to calm down, but fear has him by the throat. All those what ifs. Maybe you’re wrong, maybe it’s something dangerous and he might lose you if he doesn’t act right now. And he can’t risk it, needs you. So you’re going to Ratchet, because he needs to be sure you’re okay. You took care of him, now it’s his turn. You have to be okay.

TF Earthspark Megatron x Reader

• He can feel the judgment in Dorothy’s stare as he sits in the modified barn near the air mattress you’re sprawled on. Knows he should have let the Malto’s carry you in the house, but wanted you within sight. Within reach as his servos brush your throat and he watches Dorothy set down a tray with a bowl of soup, firmly telling him that this is the best medicine for a cold. It’s not that he doesn’t believe her, he just hates to see you so miserable, unable to help you.

• Feeling those gentle servos touching your cheek, your hair, you relax. Can hear that deep, rumbling brogue of his as you drift in and out. It’s only a cold, nothing major, but you can’t deny it’s nice to have someone worrying over you, taking care of you. Because it’s been a long time since someone’s worried over you like this, probably since you were a kid.

[dee-writes-anime]

HEY me again 😖 i loved the last request so why not another one 👀

Can we possibly do bakugo, kirishima, denki, or even monoma (i cant choose just one boy rn-) x reader who has a really dangerously strong fire quirk??

So basically like endevour or toya/dabi but more stronger, dangerous and uncontrollable, some background reader had a brother but when she got her quirk she almost disintegrated her brother (idk like her brother is deku?) and every time she uses her quirk she basically gets small burns.

But one day she gets upser at something random like idk a sad video of a cat… ik that gets me. But anyway, she gets sad from something and her quirk goes crazy and she nearly burns the dorms down by accident and has a really nasty burn, and it’s basically the bois trying to calm her down because the sad video reminded her of her shitty childhood????

I tried to make sense of it 😭 sounds better in my head… pls eat and drink, dont forget to brush ur hair/teeth, and shower and to sleeeep!!!

BAIII

-Monty

BURN, BABY, BURN!

FEATURING Denki Kaminari x Reader, Katsuki Bakugo x Reader, Ejiro Kirishima x Reader, and Neito Monoma x Reader (individual)

SUMMARY How the boys react to a reader with a fire quirk losing control.

CONTENT WARNINGS Fluff!!! Slight angst, Bakugo being Bakugo, Kirishima calls the reader sunshine ^.^, Monoma (yes, he's a warning), losing control of a quirk, mentions of burns/injury

AUTHORS NOTE @montybooks!!! Babe, you are back at it again with another awesome request! Seeing this in my inbox brought me out of my schoolwork induced zombie-like trance state for just long enough to write this. And as a thank you for returning, I decided why write for one, when I could write for them all ;) hope you enjoy!!!

⚡ Kaminari Denki

Denki is used to powerful quirks. Bakugo’s explosions? Shoto’s fire? Yeah, whatever. But this? The way the air warps from the sheer heat of your flames, how the floorboards crackle and blacken beneath your feet—this is something else entirely.

The moment he sees you trembling, sees the panic in your eyes, he moves—instinctively, without hesitation.

“Babe—babe, look at me!” His voice shakes, but he forces himself to grin because he knows you need something to ground you.

The fire is licking at his skin, his uniform singing at the edges, but he doesn’t care. You’re upset, and that’s all that matters.

When the fire finally dies down, leaving the room scorched, smoky, and silent, he barely gets a second to breathe before he sees the burns crawling up your arms.

“Shit—okay, okay, don’t freak out—wait, no, you can freak out, but like, not too much, ‘cause I seriously don’t wanna die right now—”

He immediately starts cracking jokes to try and lighten the mood, even as he carefully helps you to the floor. “Y’know, next time you wanna cuddle, babe, maybe don’t turn the dorms into a volcano?”

His usual joking tone falters when he sees your expression. Your hands are shaking, and you look…scared.

So, he pulls you in, wraps his arms around you despite the heat still radiating off you. His chin rests on your shoulder, his voice soft, steady.

“I don’t care how strong your quirk is. I don’t care if you turn this whole school to ash. You’re still my girl, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He kisses your temple, his usual goofiness gone, replaced with something deeper, something more real.

“Now, let’s get some ice on those burns before you roast me alive, yeah?”

🧨 Bakugo Katsuki

Bakugo knows power. He respects power. And your quirk? It’s terrifying.

But he doesn’t flinch when the fire erupts. He doesn’t run. He runs toward you.

“Oi! Snap out of it!” His voice is commanding, cutting through the crackling flames.

The air is boiling, smoke stinging his eyes, but he doesn’t stop. He pushes forward, grabbing your wrist despite the heat scorching his skin.

Your eyes snap to his, wide, filled with fear. His grip tightens. “You control this, dumbass. Not the other way around.”

When the fire finally fades, he catches you before you can collapse. His arms are strong, steady, unwavering.

His heart drops when he sees the burn on your skin. He clenches his jaw so hard it aches.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, like he’s trying to will it into existence.

He sees the way you’re avoiding his gaze, and something in him snaps.

“Tch. Dumbass, you think I’m scared of some flames? I make explosions for a living!” He growls, but his hands are gentle when they grab your face.

He forces you to look at him, his crimson eyes blazing with something fierce. “You think this changes anything? You think this makes me wanna run?”

He cups your face, thumb grazing the edge of a burn. “Not a damn chance.”

That night, he doesn’t leave your side. He keeps his hands on you—a grounding presence, a reminder that he’s here.

🪨 Kirishima Eijiro

The second he sees the fire consume the room, he doesn’t think—he just acts.

He hardens his body, pushing through the inferno, ignoring the embers scorching his arms. He refuses to leave you alone in this.

“Sunshine!” His voice is loud, steady, unshakable. He grins through the heat, his hands reaching for you.

“I gotcha, sunshine—I’m right here!” His voice is loud, steady, reassuring. He doesn’t flinch, not even when the flames lick at his skin.

When you collapse, he catches you immediately, holding you tightly against his chest. His hands shake as he sees the raw burn on your skin.

His heart aches because he knows—he knows how much this hurts you, not just physically, but emotionally.

His hands are gentle as he cradles you against his chest, his forehead pressed to yours.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” He repeats it like a mantra, as if saying it enough will make it true.

“I don’t care how dangerous it is—I’m staying. No way in hell am I leaving you alone right now.”

Later, as he helps wrap your burns, his voice softens. “You’re not dangerous to me. Never have been, never will be.”

He kisses your scorched knuckles, eyes filled with something unwavering, unbreakable.

“You’re strong, babe. Stronger than this. And I’ll remind you every damn day if I have to.”

🎭 Monoma Neito

“Oh, wonderful. The dorms are on fire. Again.”

His sarcasm doesn’t hide the way he rushes toward you, even as the flames lash out, searing the air.

“Honestly, what do they teach you in training? How to annihilate everything in a ten-mile radius?” His voice is sharp, mocking.

The moment he sees you clutching your head, shaking, something in him twists.

His expression shifts. He’s still smirking, still snide, but there’s a different kind of sharpness now—focused, calculating.

“You’re not going to burn me.” He says it like it’s a fact, like he’s daring you to prove him wrong.

He steps closer—slow, deliberate. The heat is unbearable, his skin screams, but he refuses to flinch.

“Tch. Look at you,” he sighs, stepping closer, ignoring the flames curling around his uniform. “Terrifying, destructive—you’re lucky I like dangerous women.”

“You’re so dramatic, you know that?” His voice is steady, unwavering. “What, are you going to cry next? Maybe throw in some evil laughter? Go full villain for me?”

The flames pulse, waver. His eyes narrow.

Got you.

He doesn’t hesitate when he sees the burns on your arms. His jaw tightens, his hands clenching at his sides.

He doesn’t let go. He keeps you close, pressed against him, even as he grumbles.

“Look at you,” he tuts, running a careful hand over your singed hair. “An absolute disaster, as usual.”

But his touch is gentle, precise. He takes your wrists, assessing the burns with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

“And now I have to deal with the consequences of your recklessness.” A dramatic sigh. “Truly, my suffering knows no end.”

But then—his fingers graze yours, barely a touch. His voice drops.

“You’re okay.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. A demand.

When you don’t respond, he taps your forehead lightly—just enough to snap you out of it. “Hey. Did you hear me?”

His usual smirk is gone. His gaze is piercing, serious.

“You’re okay,” he says again, softer this time.

That night, he doesn’t let you hide away. No sulking, no brooding. Not on his watch.

He sits beside you, cross-legged on your bed, arms folded, smirking like he owns the place.

“You’re not going to wallow,” he declares. “Because if you do, I’ll be forced to drag you out of your own self-loathing.”

A pause. Then, a mock gasp. “Wait, is that what this is? Are you sad because you think I’m scared of you?”

He leans in, grinning, voice dropping to a low murmur.

He whispers, his breath warm against your ear, “If I was scared of you, I wouldn’t be here.”

His fingers brush yours, his touch featherlight, teasing. “So stop being so dramatic and let me take care of you.”

And just like that, the smirk softens. The teasing fades, just a little.

“You’re strong,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You’re…you.”

His lips press against your scorched knuckles. It’s barely a kiss, just the lightest ghost of warmth.

“And I like you exactly the way you are.”

"Oh, and next time, give me a little warning before you try to burn the school down, hmm?”

[muzansfangs]

Il nome mio nessun saprà (no one will know my name).

Starring: The Salesman x f!reader; mention to Seong Gi-hun x f!reader (platonic relationship); mention to Cho Sang-woo;

Format: multi-chapter story;

Warnings: nsfw, panic attack, anxiety, fear of being stalked, mention to gagging and masturbation, dacryphilia, vaginal fingering, language, vaginal sex, hair pulling, slight degradation kink, manipulative behavior, loss and grieving, dom!salesman, sub!reader, lying to the partner, the salesman has told the reader to call him Gong Yoo;

Plot: Before you knew it, you were the prisoner of a castle made of lies he sugarcoated with his charm, dates and the fleeting feeling you had someone to count on. You were content with your life, grateful you had found yourself someone to grow attached to amidst the chaos. He taught you to play ddakji, only for you to end in his bed. How naive you were, how sad it was you did not know his job actually consisted in bamboozling people by playing the same game in the underground. Too bad those people did not find themselved undressed, if they lost the match.

masterlist | previous chapter | to the next chapter

[𝟎𝟎𝟐] 𝐇𝐢𝐦, 𝐚 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲.

The dull and insistent sound of an object repeatedly banging on a solid surface was your good morning kiss. Your heavy eyelids shot open and it took you a few seconds to rationalize you were not sleeping anymore. The sound continued, your eyebrows furrowing, as you pushed yourself up on your elbows. Was someone knocking on the door?

The door. Right. Your eyes darted on the entrance and your brain began to function. Why was the door tinted black? White. It should have been white. This was not your bedroom. Your eyes flickered across the room, so minimalistic and luxurious at the same time. Yes, it definitely was not your room.

Well, awesome! Apparently, you had fallen asleep in that man’s house then. When, though? How? You remembered the intimate interaction, then you recalled nothing but small fragments of a senseless conversation you had had. Your face heated up instantly, fingers uncomfortably tugging down the sheets draped over your body and, much to your horror, you ascertained you were wearing your dress but not your underwear. Instead of being secured to your hips, the flimsy item was laying on your side.

Your eyes grew round, bare feet touching the carpeted floor, before you padded towards the source of the irritating noise. With your heart pounding in your chest, hard enough to steal your breath, you rapidly tried to fix your hair and opened the door. There he was, the hot gentleman who had offered you an expensive vintage Chianti and faked a relationship with you not to cause your face to be printed on the newspapers under the dreadful word ‘missing’.

You stood before him, nervously pushing the skirt of your creased dress further down, wide-eyed and full of questions. It made him smile and your heart dropped in your stomach. He was already dressed up, hair neatly combed, head tilted to the side, as he stared down at you seemingly amusedly.

“I was starting to get worried. Are you feeling better?” he asked you, somehow not sounding that much concerned about your well-being. If any, his remark was unnecessarily overly sarcastic. Then again, you were still feeling kind of drowsy. Your perception of the surroundings was absolutely not reliable at the moment.

You rubbed the back of your neck “Uhm, yeah, I think I’m fine. — you replied, leaning against the doorframe to formulate the first of the million of questions bombarding your mind — What exactly happened yesterday night? I mean, how did I end up in the bedroom?”.

He quirked his dark eyebrows up, a small pout exalting his plumped lips as he then invited you to follow him with a wave of his hand. Why did he look so good, even when he was clearly pitying you and your poor state? It was not like you were experiencing an attack of amnesia. What troubled you was you had blurry fragments of conversations, or events playing on repeat in the back of your mind. Obviously, you needed help to put the pieces together.

Reluctantly, you followed him to what you assumed was the kitchen. Upon crossing the threshold, were you really that shocked to land your eyes on a set of splendid forniture? You almost felt bad for climbing on one of the stools but, after shooting an apologetic glance at him, you did. Once you had taken a seat at the immense island, the man reached his hand up to the cupboard to grab a small plate and cup.

“How much do you remember, dear?” he inquired, nimble fingers opening a sugar bowl and settling it on the kitchen island before your droopy and soft eyes.

Not much. You remembered you two had kissed, that he had fingered you until you had reached your climax, then you could recall him calling you by your name before you started sobbing in his chest, blinded by the fear of the stalker knowing details of you no one you actually knew had been informed of. You truly wished you had not insulted him, or maybe even jumped at his throat during your rampage. Something in his eyes made you think the opposite.

You chewed on your lower lip, the sound of the percolator alluring you to dwell in distant memories of the Sunday mornings spent with your grandparents at their house. If you closed your eyes, you were still able to vividly evoke the scene unfolding in a familiar routine you loved. The sour aroma flinging all around the living room, when you sat on the sofa sipping on a cup of coffee with your grandmother, was one of your dearest memories. A core one, indeed. And, unfortunately, one of the things you missed and could not have back. Life did not really fight fair with you.

“If I said, or did something unpleasant to you, I’m deeply ashamed of it. I’m sorry. — you began then, watching the way he checked his wristwatch on his right wrist, eyes zeroing back on you in a split second — For an instant, when you called me by my name, I’ve assumed you were my stalker. I told you how I got the informations about Mr. Cho, right? I think someone is following me around, or messing with me, I don’t know. I think this is affecting me more than I like yo admit” you ranted, propping both of your elbows over the counter and palming your forehead in distress and an ounce of genuine remorse. You really had went bonkers yesterday night, had you not?

He did not answer immediately. Probably, he let a couple of minutes pass. Enough for your coffee to be ready.

“It is only natural to become a tad paranoid in such stressful situations. I have nothing to forgive you for” he crooned, flashing a tight smile at you, deftly turning off the boiling ring and grasping the percolator to pour the hot liquid in the cup.

Your eyes were transfixed on him, on the way he appeared to be so perfect he almost reminded you of a robot. He must have been hiding his flaws masterly. He could not be impeccable that early in the morning. It was frustrating. Yet, he was not kicking you out of his house. He was not offended in the slightest. Actually, he was making sure you ate breakfast and that you had fully recovered.

You missed someone doing that to you now that there was no one else in the world left to oh-so-annoyingly look after you.

“Tell me what I’ve said, please. You can’t act like it’s okay. I’ve been an awful guest and—”.

“You haven’t. What I saw, what you did, my dear, was nothing more than a girl having a meltdown. Now, stop apologizing and … — he pushed the cup towards you, his everlasting smirk greeting you once again — Drink up your coffee. You can serve yourself with the right amount of sugar”.

You stared at him dumbfounded, hesitantly grasping a small silver spoon to collect some sugar and drop it in the boiling coffee to sweeten its strong taste. You felt his piercing gaze on you all the time, almost studying each movement you made. The air was electric as you blew on the cup to cool it down. There was still so much you craved to know, so many questions you yearned to ask. Your eyes betrayed you for he tilted his head to the side and rested the opened palms of his hands on the smooth surface of the counter, leaning slightly forwards.

“Something’s clearly troubling you. Care to explain what?” he inquired smoothly, dark eyes capturing your gaze and breaking the unbearable silence asphyxiating you.

You took a sip of your coffee, holding the cup tightly between your hands “I was wondering if… — you began, but your words somehow failed you and you cleared your throat to encourage yourself to speak up — Why am I not wearing my underwear? Did we cross the line?”.

He shook his head, hand reaching out to draw a cowlick off of your face. The gesture seemed tender, albeit his eyes were sharp and cold as those of a shark “No, we did not. However, maybe I shall let you know the reason you are not wearing them resides in your will to continue what had started in the living room. I dissuaded you, though. I did not think you were in the right state of mind for it” he explained, not batting an eye when you choked on your coffee at the embarrassing revelation.

What the Hell did you do? Did you really freak out that much? Did you make a fool of yourself in front of the man you were attracted to?

You felt your cheeks heat up, head turning to avoid meeting his intense gaze. You somewhat had a feeling he was enjoying seeing you under pressure, but his behavior puzzled you. He was not pesting you. This man was downright direct, a smooth talker, oozing confidence and cockiness like an overflowing sink. Despite that, he did not take advantage of you. He was still treating you with due respect. You appreciated this, but you were now asking yourself how you were supposed to look him in the eye again after listening to what had happened a few hours ago.

The situation you were in had clearly taken a tool on you. It did not matter that you had stopped looking for your father. You were still tangled in a web of uncertainity, pain, loneliness and now fear. The fear of some psychopath playing with your fragilities, helping you out from the shadows, keeping an eye on you. Letting you know you were being watched and, just because he was not harming you, it did not mean he was not going to hurt you.

“Thanks” you murmured, eyes downcast, as you drank up the remaining coffee and hopped down from the stool, hell-bent on making your getaway from him as soon as humanly possible.

His hand latching around your wrist halted you. You shuddered, finally flicking your eyes up to meet his penetrating gaze. He was not smiling this time. He was too damn serious, as he stared you down the way a famished hawk pinned a mouse on the spot before pecking its skull and killing it in a instant. Were you supposed to he afraid? Was he merely trying to reassure you nothing detrimental had happened, when you were out of your mind? What game was he playing? What if he was going to hurt you, to kidnap you?

He held your gaze, circling the kitchen island before stopping in front of you, his grip on your wrist still firm but gentler now.

He was tall. Too tall for you not to crane your neck up to look at him “Hold on. — he said, thumb stroking your wrist soothingly —May I, at least, accompany you home?”.

You parted your lips, a small sigh of relief escaping your mouth as you realized he really did not mean any harm. He was the same gentleman who had protected you at the train station, the same man who had charmed you at the discotheque. Also, you felt safe, going out with him. A lift home would have not hurt you.

You smiled softly “Are you sure I am not ruining your plans for the day?”.

“You are my plan for the day, dear”.

Fuck. Here he was bewitching you again with his silver tongue. You could not help yourself, but chuckle “Really now? Are you hitting on me again?”.

He grinned, fingers finally releasing your wrist “Would you mind, if I were?”.

Your cheeks flushed up, head shaking imperceptibly, jumping into the unknown at the faintest taste of affection, of genuine attention and concern. You had sealed your fate and you had no idea of what awaited for you at the end of the road. Salty tears, the metallic taste of blood staining your teeth, tickling your tongue.

“I wouldn’t”.

You had forgotten the enthralling feeling of dolling up for someone, of dressing up to impress someone. Since he had made it an habit to drop by your dorm to pick you up for romantic dates in places you could have never afforded in your entire life, you had begun to put an unreasonable amount of effort to meet his expectations. Your were finally flourishing. A month of dating and he still had not gone beyond sneaky kisses and sensual make-out sessions in the back of his car. This man was unique, a mystery to uncover. You still knew too little about him to say you had learned enough about his life to trust him blindly. Gradually, though, he had even started to open up about himself.

And you treasured those small informations.

You had learned not to ask too many questions about his job, or private life, when he had told he worked undercover for the Government. At your silent pleading of knowing his name, he had begrudgingly given you one, but had also made it loud and clear it was not his real name. Gong Yoo. At least, you were now going to whisper that name when his lips nipped at your jugular, while he palmed your breasts through the fabric of your clothes.

You were not the type to change for a man. However, you were now far from the scared little girl who had taken a plane all those months ago and moved to South Korea with nothing but an immense sense of loneliness and the incapability to smile. You were not alone anymore and you cheerfully smiled in his company. Everyone you had grown attached to had noticed the transformation you were going through, asking you what had happened, if there was a man in your life, or if you had met your father.

All you did to quench their thirst was saying you were dating a man, nor details, neither hints about his persona left your mouth. This was the plan he had come up with to ‘protect you from potential enemies’. Your mutual agreement to keep your relationship top secret had been a wise choice. Gong Yoo seemed reserved and, on the other hand, you were not enthusiastic at the idea of people gossiping about your sentimental life. Not to mention he was right about the risks of a delinquent going after you for simply be associated with him.

He cared about you. Your safety was his top priority.

It was a Friday night, when he surprised you yet again. You were slow-dancing in his living room, one of his hand delicately resting on the small of your back, the other holding yours up, when he brought his mouth next to the shell of your ear. It was hard thinking straight, when he touched you like that.

“Do you like playing games?”.

His question left you stunned for a few seconds, your lips curving into a smile, but you refused to lift your head up and look at him. Your cheek was stubbornly glued to his chest, eyes closing as Riccardo Cocciante’s voice lulled you in a heartbreaking song your mother used to love. Distant summertime memories of car rides with you two singing along with the singer flashed before your eyes. Somehow, thinking about her, about your past life, when you were in his company, did not hurt as much as it did when you were alone. He was a placebo coursing through your veins.

“What kind of games?” you whispered, his lips slithering up and grazing the top of your head affectionately.

“Games. Did you play games, when you were a kid?”.

You chortled “Well, I did, of course. — you replied, craning your neck to inspect his face — Why are you asking me that?” you queried, a knot forming between your eyebrows as he smiled down at you charmingly, large hands leaving your body to cradle your face.

His thumbs stroked your cheekbones, his jovial smile pulling the strings of your heart with such an expertise you thought you were a puppet in his hands “Because I do. — he chimed, watching your eyes light up in curiosity ��� And I may or may not have come up with a way to spice things up tonight” he drawled, tilting his head to the side to assess the way you seemed to glow in glee and trepidation. Admittedly, you had been dying to bring your relationship to the next level. To be completely honest, you had been taken aback by his old-fashioned way of courting you. Albeit, you obviously did not mind it.

He did not seem to be in a hurry. He savoured each and every encounter you had had up until now. When you seemed to be particularly ecstatic about the outcome of your dates, he indulged into inappropriate steamy activities, even publicly. But he never crossed the line of burying himself deep into you, of nestling himself in your warmth. He mostly focused on your pleasure, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, shoving three digits into you, asking you to dry-hump his thigh until you orgasmed on his slacks.

You did not really mind taking things slow. It was a breath of fresh air, it was therapeutic.

Still, you knew he had a freaky side. You had caught glimpses of it, when he seemed to be on the verge of gripping your hair and force his throbbing cock in your mouth, while he was on the brink of reaching his climax. You had witnessed to the way he struggled to last, whilst touching himself, at the sight of you wearing a gag and pretending to beg for your life to feed his fantasy. You played along in his wicked, perverted scenarios. After all, it was nothing too extreme and you had to admit a certain curiosity tickled your ego.

“Oh, I see. Then show me” you stated, his dark eyes flitting towards the couch as he gestured for you to take a seat and proceeded in disappearing behind the door leading to the bedrooms.

In a matter of seconds, he was back, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he stopped in front of you. Raising his hands, he showed two paper squares at you. What was that supposed to mean? Did you have to pick a color?

“Uhm, what… I mean, besides choosing a color, what do I have to do with that?” you voiced your thoughts, instinctively reaching your hand out to snatch the red tile from his hand. He sighed, lowering his gaze thoughtfully, as if reality was dawning on him all of a sudden.

“I beg your pardon, I have forgotten you are not familiar with Korean games. This is called ‘ddakji’, a popular game among kids. — he explained, straightening his back and motioning for you to stand up — The rules are pretty simple: you settle your tile on the floor and the opponent has to flip it with his one. Before we get serious, I will show you how it is done” he offered, crouching down to put his blue tile on the parquet and retriving the red one you had picked from your hand.

You made space for him, watching intently the way he took aim and hastily, precisely, almost like a sniper, he hurled the red tile to the floor. The blue tile was flipped around, the smack of the impact echoed in the living room, catching you off guard for a second. He made it look so easy. If only you had had the chance to practice before, your chances to win would have increased.

You hummed, nodding your head, as you bent down to pick up the red tile “I got it. I think we can start, but that’s a tad unfair. — you pinpointed, shooting a side-eye at him, as he repositioned his blue tile on the floor — I have never played ddakji before. I will keep on failing miserably and you are going to gloat about your victory for days. You play dirty!”.

He smirked, hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks “Playing dirty, huh? You have no idea how dirty this is going to get”.

You faltered, lips parting, as you connected the dots. Oh, this was what he meant by ‘spicing things up’, was it not? Nevertheless, you refused to play until he explained exactly what he had in mind.

You clicked your tongue, cocking your head to the side “Oh really? Interesting. What is on stake? What rules have you come up with?”.

Gong Yoo quirked his eyebrows up, leaning down towards you just enough for his hot breath to waft over your face “You may not know ddakji, but you surely know a thing or two about ‘strip poker’, am I right? — he tested the waters, his gaze trailing down your body shamelessly — What if we apply the same scheme to ddakji? You lose, you take something off. The one who gets naked first will sadly lose” he offered, watching you regret every single decision you had made until now.

You were not against the idea of letting him pounce at you. You ached to finally feel him inside of you, to hear him animalistically grunt as he ruined you for anyone else coming later in your life. To say you were bittered by your lack of choice, though, was an understatement. You were not a sore loser. This one was just not a fair fight. You were destined to lose, to succumb, to yield to him like you were not capable of defending yourself. Impotent, yet cunning, you eventually nodded your head and prepared to play the first round.

Four rounds. If you lost four rounds, you were done for. You should have not worn a simple sundress. How were you supposed to know he was going to scam you into a round of strip ddakji, though?

“I’m in” you agreed, before you took a sharp intake of air and transfixed your gaze on the blue square at your feet. You could do it. You just had to concentrate, put the right amount of force into it and flip that thing around.

Without thinking too much about it, you did it. You smashed your tile against it and, much to your surprise, it flipped the other successfully. If it was not for the music playing in the background, a still silence blanketed the room. You stood there in shock, he stared at the tiles on the floor as if you had just robbed him of his dignity. He looked almost offended, his eyes meeting yourself as he shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders made you feel like you should have apologized for what you had just done. You did not, though. You had earned your victory. Maybe it was just luck, maybe you were going to lose the following four rounds and he was going to win. It really did not matter, did it? You had won and you were not going to belittle your skills to console him.

“Congratulations, ma’am” he told you, clearing his throat and busying himself with repositioning the tiles optimally to play the second round. His voice sounded mechanical, almost as if he was used to praise people who won. How absurd it was.

The smack of your tile being flipped made you flinch and you felt your mouth going dry, as you slipped off your shoes, instead of your dress. A loss is a loss, right? But you had to choice to decide which item was going to be removed first. Why not claiming your rights?

“Wise choice” he observed pointedly, eyes raking over your form. The atmosphere was gradually shifting, the tension thick and the hunger burning in his eyes enveloping you like an incendio. He was eager to defeat you, but so were you to prove him he was not in total control. You were playing a game you had not even heard about before and, apparently, you were not even too bad at it.

You had a feeling it was going to be a wild ride.

You swept your tongue out of your mouth, tasting your cherry chopstick in the process of moistening your bottom lip. After a couple of dates with him, you had given up on the feminine urge to paint your lips properly with your favorite lipstick. You had literally walked around the dormitory with a smudged lipstick making you look like you were cosplaying the Joker.

“You sound disappointed” you teased him, glancing at him briefly, arm raising above your head to calibrate your aim. You had won once, why not doing it twice?

“Actually, I am glad you have decided to start from the shoes. If you had removed your dress right away, I would have been tempted to break the rules and I am not the type to do that” he promptly replied, your grip around the edges of the square in your hand tightening significantly. Did he really have such an high self-esteem and inflexible moral code imposing him not to deflect from rules and principles?

You took a deeper breath, squinting, before slamming your tile against the blue one. You won. Again.

A joyful smile crossed your face “Woah, I think you ought me a ‘thank you’ for having won again, then. I am preservating your morals” you replied, a smirk curving his own lips as he reached his hands up and unknotted the necktie with ease, discading it carelessly at his feet.

As he grasped his blue tile, he shot you an immodest look, sending shivers down your spine you even failed to camouflage “Probably, but I will obviously stick to the rules, dear. Correct me if I’m wrong. It really doesn’t matter, if I’m going to lose this game. — he paused, eyes darting down on your red tile, before he furiously flipped it around, making it clatter ominously on the parquet — It’s irrelevant who ends up stripping naked first. In the end, you are going to let me screw you anyway”.

You fingers twitched at your sides, brain registering his words in slow motion. He had won, you had to remove an item. But he was undeniably speaking facts. This game meant nothing. It was just another way to spend time, before you spread your legs for him. Finally, you dared to think as he stared at you expectantly. Your dress. You should have logically removed your dress first. This was what everyone at your place would have done, what he expected you to do. Imagine how surprised he was, when you instead showed him you still had the upper hand. Your cheeks were on fire, heart thrumming against your ribacage violently, when you shamelessly locked eyes with him.

Your hands slipped underneath the skirt of your dress, fingers hooking around the waistband, pulling at it until the underwear rested around your thighs. Then you began to kick them off, not granting him a glimpse of yourself to him. Not yet. Were you really going to make him work for it? Of course, you were.

“You are so arrogant” you whispered, arching your eyebrows as you stepped out of the poor excuse of underwear you had chosen for the night.

His jaw tensed and, considering the prominent tent in his slacks, you had aroused him enough to cause a strong physical reaction from him. You felt victorious in that very instant. Especially, when he pulled his gaze away from you forcefully, battling with the beast inside of him howling for you.

“Stai giocando con il fuoco ¹” he muttered.

“Who doesn’t like to get burned?”.

And you did get burned. You won again, you watched him unbutton his shirt, you basked into the celestial sight of his sculpted body, of his rock hard abs and board shoulders. But he won too. And, dear God, how much it costed you unhooking your bra from underneath the dress and remove it in that ‘magical way only women knew’. It angered him. You were purposefully starving him.

So much that his intense gaze made you falter and you lost the fourth round. His tile mocked you, his dark eyes devouring your curves now clouding over, as he stepped closer to you, deliberately leaving no room between you two. You held your breath, your hands reaching for the hem of your dress to pull it over your head, but he stopped you.

“Let me unwrap my prize” he chided you, timbre dropping a few octaves and prompting you to press your thighs together. The ache between your legs, you could feel it perfectly, and you were going insane. You needed relief, you need him to touch you.

You raised your arms up, above your head, eyes fluttering closed and focusing only on what you felt. On the way his fingers had already gripped the skirt of your dress, slowly dragging the fabric up your body, exposing your upper thighs, your intimacy, your hipbones. You shuddered, when his knuckles grazed over your ribs, your mounds, the hardened nipples. You refused to meet his gaze, not until you felt the rustle of the dress landing somewhere in the room.

It was only them, when you lowered your arms, that he grasped your chin and commanded you to open your eyes “Look at me”.

It sounded like a plain order, devoid of any emotion, but his words rang in your head like a love confession. You obeyed, eyelids lifting and focalizing him. Your head was spinning, the world a blurry, multicolored landscape around him. He had become the center of your gravity.

His thumb pressed onto your bottom lip, playing with it, toying with you like a cat would with the small animal weeping between its claws. What was the difference between you and the meal of a stray cat? You had willingly chosen your fate. You had a choice to flee, but you did not want to.

“Would you believe me, If I told you I want to fuck you in so many places I don’t know where to start from?” he said, towering over you as he glided his hands down your back, encircling your hipbones to pull your body closer to his. Your breath hitched, eloquence abandoning you when his lips were bruising yours. When had he begun to kiss you? You could not tell. You really could not and it was maddening how you only came back on Earth when he had you straddling his waist on the couch, just like the night it all started.

He cussed under his breath, when the pads of his fingers glided down your slippery folds, earning small whines from you. The stretch of his fingers into your warm channel was ever so pleasant. He was a fiend, a devil who knew the seven deadly sins and had made lust his favorite one. His other hand slided behind your neck, tongue swiping over your lips to taste you.

“Tell me, have you ever been with a man before?”.

“You should know by now I’m not a virgin” you breathed out, hands sliding over his pectorals the moment he curled his fingers into you. You squeled out in bliss, toes curling, pelvis rocking back and forth to seek your orgasm.

He chuckled, a rare sight “I’m talking about the age of your partners. — he clarified, depriving you of your climax and reaching his hands down to unbuckle his belt and unzip his slacks — I think you just mingled with boys your age. But it is fine, I like to think you are still convinced twenty seconds is all it takes for someone to cum” he mockingly commented, squeezing your hips to prompt you to cling onto him, which you did without hesitation.

His unhinged words made you bury your face in the crook of his neck, shielding your face from his lascivious gaze. He was smirking, your lack of silence speaking volumes as he stood up, hooking his hands benath your thighs to hold you up against him. His slacks were hanging loosely around his hips, the sound of his unfastened belt clinking with each step he took sounding both gloomy and promising for the incoming event. Up in the sky, parading to the adamantine gates of Heaveb, or swimming into the scorching, boiling lava of Hell. Which was the path you were going to take?

Your back hit the soft mattress, his hand splayed over your midriff to keep you in place. You saw him tucking his free hand in the pocket of his slacks, drawing out his watter.

“Don’t move” he warned you, before his hand left your stomach, fingers trailing down towards your belly to keep you on your toes.

You were not really suprised he kept some condoms in his wallet. A few years ago, you had been warned most of the men who do this are huge red flags. He was not an exception, you knew it. However, you did what he said. You did not run away, you did not shift your position, you watched him rip the package open with his teeth and remove his pants, all the while feeling your mouth salivate like that of a starving dog.

“Tell me, dear, do you want me to fuck you?” he asked you, sitting on the edge of the bed, at your side.

“Is that even a question?”.

You did not anticipate his hand grabbing a fist full of your hair, forcing you to bend towards his lap. His other hand held the condom between his fingers, pressing it against your mouth. You shot him an inquisitive gaze, evidently demanding an explanation to what he was doing.

“Then use your juicy mouth to roll this down my cock” he instructed you impassibly, a glint of unbridled lust twinkling in his dark hues.

You felt almost degraded. Your mouth opening to protest, but you bit your tongue and took it as a personal challenge. You could do it, right? It was just a game. It was sex, nothing you could not deal with. You had even put a gag in your mouth to let him jerk off at the sight of your saliva dribbling down your chin.

“I’m not doing this just to please you. Take it as my way to… Show my gratitude for that night at the station” you said, softly taking the ring between your lips and pinching the tip of the condom to ensure there was no air in it. He stiffened, an inaudible groan erupting from somewhere deep in his chest, when you tugged the condom down his shaft. His grip on your hair intensified, a wince ripping from your throat, but you refused to pull away until you reached the base. Only then, he abruptly pulled you off of him.

“Oh really? You want to show me how grateful you are to me? Alright, ride me then. — he rasped out, lips lingering over yours, as you sucked in a sharp intake of breath — Fuck yourself on me”.

There it was. His most pervert side gleaming in the dimly illuminated bedroom, flickering in destructive lapilli shot from a volcano. In that moment, you felt like a helpless slave, witnessing to the fatal event cascading over the city of Pompeii. You had no where to go, no one to look for. You accepted your end, fiery eyes glinting in pride, heart pounding against your chest so hard you struggled to concentrate. You straddled him, your hand lining the bulbous tip of his cock to your sappy entrance. He held you close to him, hands firmly planted on your hips, fingernails biting your skin to hurt you.

You choked out a strained moan, when you gained enough courage to lower yourself down on him. The burning sensation made you utter out inchorent words he failed to understand.

“Cazzo²— O my Gosh…” you whimpered out, pausing to let your gummy walls adjust to his girth. It had been a while since you last let someone humour you among the bedsheets. To be frank, you did not recall anyone be that big. You felt it all, stretching you open inch by inch. Sweat began to bead your forehead and you cried out in a strangled moan that was sloppily swallowed by his mouth.

He was far way more controlled than you were, but not totally unaffected. His jaw clenched, before his hands squeezed your ass roughly, hips bucking up to impale you fully on his shaft. You whined, eyes growing round in soppy sight that made him hum in amusement.

“What is it? What are you trying to babble out? Are those compliments to my size?”.

“Kind of, those were cusses”.

He grinned, squishing your cheeks together and planting a kiss on the tip of your nose “Really? Let’s make a bet. I will fuck you so good that, by the time I am done with you, you will forget your mother language. Oh, the Hell with that… You won’t speak anymore” he crooned, making you roll your eyes.

“Let’s see”.

Gradually, you raised yourself, shuddering at the feeling of his length rubbing against your warm walls. It felt overwhelming. He was overwhelming. Was this what it meant to be with an older man? Feeling safe, but on a precipice. Was it not an addictive but destructive feeling? It was too late to retaliate. You needed him and you needed him badly, until your bones broke, until you were a writhing mass of sweat laying on his bed.

You lowered yourself back again, a breathy moan echoing around you. Soon enough you set a good tempo, steady and passionate. Your hands cupped his cheeks, your forehead pressed against his.

“Fuck! Just like that! There it is. — he encouraged you, breath uneven, hair disheveled, as he thrusted to meet your movements — Let it out, darling! Let your anger out, your pain too. I can take it, I can handle it for you”.

No. No. This was bad.

He should have not said that. Flashes of your adventures in the search of your father, of your talk with Mr. Cho, of the day you saw your mother close her eyes for the last time ran through your hair. Your nails scraped down his back, scratching, your teeth gritting as your pace got faster, but more desperate. He knew what he was doing.

“Don’t do that” you adminished him, whining when he bit down on your jugular.

“Doing what?”.

“Making me believe I can count on you”.

“But you can count on me. I’m here for you”.

You could not tell if he was lying, or not. You clenched around him, inner and velvet walls squeezing him up to the point he grunted out in pleasure. You lost the track of time, the moment he shoved your face down on the pillow and made your spine arch for him. Your eyes closed, lower lip wobbling as he thrusted back into you.

Unlike yours, his pace was brutal, punishing, but you loved it. You enjoyed the way he had his hand enclosed on the back of your neck to pin you down. You reeled at the feeling of his cock hitting your sweet spot hard enough to prevent you from talking anymore. You climaxed a few seconds before he did, your body aching and your mascara ruined. You heard him groan, stilling his movements and he was done. Your body ached and you were too tired to talk. All you heard was him taunting you one last time before he collapsed next to you.

“I told you I would have deprived you of your voice”.

Recruiting people was monotonuosly easy. Tracking down them, finding out informations about their life that would have messed with their head was even easier. It had been so long since he had enjoyed recruiting someone. Let alone slapping them.

But this was, this fucking man, had triggered something into him.

He failed, he smacked him harder than he had ever hit anyone in his entire life. The moment he had decided to be a asshole with the wrong person was the moment he had decided this bastard did not deserve redemption. He did not deserve jail, but death. Presumptuous and a felon. How could he deem himself in the position to mistreat a person in need?

Smack.

The clattering of the glasses on the concrete were music to his ears.

“Again” Cho Sang-woo declared, composing himself quickly, ignoring the curious passerby who was horrified by the scene unfolding in a public area. He was more than glad to comply to his request.

Welcome to the games, Cho Sang-woo, player 218.

Author note.

Hello there! Thank you for the attention you have reserved to the first chapter of this story. I wanted to publish the second part sooner but life got in the way! I love to read your comments and impressions, therefore do not refrain from expressing your opinions! You could say things are going up (but the reader doesn’t know they are actually going down, poor little star). Anyway, I hope you don’t mind I have decided to give the Salesman his actor’s name. I came up with the escamotage of ‘he gave you one but warned you it is not his real name’. Deal with me! Also, if you wish to be tagged in the next parts, please I need to read in your bio your age! ✨

P.S.: the song they were listening to was “Era già tutto previsto” by Riccardo Cocciante. For a better experience, here it is:

Thank you again,

Luce.

VOCABULARY.

1. Stai giocando con il fuoco: you are playing with fire;

2. Cazzo: in this specific context, ‘fuck’.

CREDITS FOR THE DIVIDERS: @cafekitsune

TAGS: @axesfordays @apookalypse @trentknd

[tubbytarchia]

Traffic/Life series roster as dinosaurs

A lot of these don't make for very good hybrids unless you wanna get into freaky territory or full on centaur but... Hope it's a fun scroll nonetheless!

Grian - Novialoidea

A small birdie... The name also means "New wings" which I find fun. New lives and death games to be part of, new wings to accompany him... (Honorable mention to "Shuvuuia" the "desert bird" who unfortunately is not a pterosaur (doesn't fly)) (Yes we're including pterosaurs! Just using "dinosaur" as a conveient blanket term)

Tango - Aratasaurus / Pyroraptor

Fire raptor! Either works just fine and Tango as a skittery little raptor is perfect for a creature like him

Scar - Apatosaurus

"Deceptive Lizard" harkening back to Scar's scamming tendencies. Though I've always liked the idea of him being some larger gentler animal in any hybrid scenario and a long-neck fits the bill well. He can poke his nose into people's conversations easily to start marketing something useless to them and swishes his tail to ward off anyone who's about to stop him

Impulse - Nasutoceratops

Ren - Regaliceratops

Horns. COOL horns. I don't know what else you want from me ceratopses are just way too awesome. Nasutoceratops is a wicked cool dinosaur for having its horns point so forward much like a bull and I for one can jive with some Impulse bull symbolism. Bulls are often viewed as strong, sturdy and loyal, traits also assigned to Impulse a LOT of the time. But though he IS intensely loyal in many cases (+ Ceratopses are also known for how they defend their own!), and he's not very outward about the following traits, he can get quite petty and bitchy and hold grudges. Still, you don't think of that when you look at him and he seems to agree! Eg him feeling like he should be accepted into Cleo's alliance in 3rd life without actually proving himself when Cleo was rightfully hesitant, at which Impulse more or less rolled his eyes. And him proclaiming "betrayal!" when killed by Bdubs when their alliance was as firm as a rat's tail

(And I feel the need to point this out too just in case: "bulls are also known for their temper" yeah but they're not like that! Bulls like many animals become defensive when exposed to aggravating behavior or movement! Which you could work into Impulse's grudge holding and intense loyalty...? I don't know enough about him sorry but do with that what you will)

Regaliceratops! Regal!! Crown shaped frill!!! Need I say more?

Gem - Therizinosaurus

Theris are so bad bitch coated to me and I would love to have one as my wife I mean um I couldn't decide on a less generic specimen so Gem can just be a Theri! A herbivore - often associated with the belief that herbivores are gentle passive creatures, but far from it, especially with Gem! She bares her claws like it's no one's business

Martyn - Stygmoloch

A Pachy with a tough head and a tendency to bonk people - I think it fits Martyn's tendency to perpetuate drama haha. The Stygmoloch's name though more or less translates to "demon of the styx river", the river of the underworld representing loathing of death. To me this makes sense with all the watcher lore (that I have a hard time understanding but whatever!!) especially with how Martyn became in LL. The watchers themselves don't loathe death (??) of course. They're death games. But someone within the game trying to stay alive and win? Probably loathes the idea of themselves dying. I have no clue what Im saying

Pearl - Carnotaurus

Ok maybe a hot take not to make her into a pteradon or even a raptor with wing-like features but those just didn't fit that well in my opinion. Rather I wanted her to have some kind of horn motif in place of her wings as visual symbolism for her character. I'd like to imagine her having fine horns, to then have them damaged (one broken off) and simultaneously the other more grown out. Think of how domesticated goats for example have their horns trimmed. I think human hybrids with horns would do the same to keep them from becoming a bother but Pearl would neglect to after her heartbreak in DL. I was heavily considering the Diabloceratops for this, especially because of the name (Devil horned face - good ostracizing material) but Pearl strikes me a lot more as a carnivore and there are only two horned carnivores out there so... Carnotaurus it is haha. And even now I'm making her horns unrealistically big but.... We can suspend some belief

BigB - Oryctodromeus

"Digging Runner"! I've already talked plenty of why BigB is very rabbit behavior to me and my reasons for assigning this burrowing dinosaur to him are similar. Tldr he is fidgety and cautious yet clever and constantly buries himself underground

Lizzie - Anurognathidae

I don't even fucking know man it made me think of Lizzie and then I wasn't able to assign anything else to her. Lizzie often claims to be confused and if any dinosaur looks to be in a perpetual state of confusion then its this one. I know a lot of people like to portray Lizzie as a butterfly also so there you go, wings!!! And it's quite cat-like too for those who like to draw her as a cat

Mumbo - Leinkupal

I really struggled with Mumbo... So many different dinos fit him imo but I figured it should be at least something moderately large (so "Technosaurus" was out of the question lol). Then I rediscovered this dinosaur whose name translates to "vanishing family" and then I thought about LL and SL and how Mumbo went out quickly after the initial death/s and left a very felt absence in someone's alliance and then I became really emotional and forgot what I was doing

Joel - Nodocephalosaurus

Bdubs - Psittacosaurus

"Knob Headed Lizard"

Joel as an Ankylosaur has been stuck in my head from day one of assigning dinosaurs to the Lifers and I'm frustrated that I can't truly explain why. You'd view an Ankylosaur as a slow and docile creature, even compared to other herbivores, but...

1. Maybe not so much nowadays, I don't know what non-dino nerds think, but I feel like ankylosaurs were largely believed to be HUGE back in the day, much like velociraptors, when in reality they're not that big. The Nodocephalosaurus is especially small even among other ankylosaurs. But, well, we all know what Joel loves to say about himself

2. Joel is or likes to make himself look well in control, just as ankylosaurs have little to worry about as far as predators go. Especially in earlier series where he was content basing mostly by himself. It's always when things get dire and he enters his red life that he becomes very impulsive and erratic like an ankylosaur flipped on its back

3. I know there's a distinction between Traffic Joel and Empires Joel and whatever other Joel but... Even in death games his more charitable traits shine through here and there. He really becomes a dangerous rascal for a large majority of the time and he's very good at it, he's not putting on a mask or anything, but I like to remember that underneath that tough spiky armor is gentleness and caring. His care towards Lizzie and Pearl and Etho etc etc

4. The image of Joel as a hell of a spiky creature is just really fun to me. Yet heavy and blunt ones! And someone once proposed the idea of him having a club tail but having chiselled it to be sharp to mirror him being a menace. (Added benefit also that it's lighter that way haha) To me he's always been an obvious heavy hitter rather than stealthy or particularly creative etc. Him as a carnivore just doesn't work as well for me

The name bares no fitting meaning but when I look at Bdubs I think of Psittaco. All other species close to it in looks are already ceratopsians and we have like... 3 of those already lol. Im sorry Bdubs you look so stupid

Cleo - Lythronax

There's so few predators in this roster lol oops, but Cleo deserves to be an apex one! The name translates to "Gore King" because you know, zombies... and you know, Cleo is very king so true. If any of the Lifers should be able to boast rows of razor sharp teeth to gore others it should be ZombieCleo

Scott - Theiophytalia

I've been really struggling with Scott but how about the dinosaur whose name translates to "Belonging to the garden of Gods". There's only one known specimen of this species and it's an Iguanadon looking dinosaur which I think a lot of people would regard as the most basic, possibly boring type of dinosaur (if it weren't for the Allosaurus which already takes the title of "basic straight white guy") but that further fits Scott imo. It's always been a strong point of appeal to me how MUCH there is to his character that so often goes under the radar or unexplored, and how he's very often portrayed as just some handsome looking guy as opposed to a hybrid etc. He's not at all extravagant yet has mastered his craft of bending fate in his favor, he so often has things perfectly under his control just as he wants them, etc... reflective of the name "Theiophytalia" even if you wouldn't think such a dinosaur to sport one of the most prolific names a dinosaur can have. Also garden something something flower husbans. Basically whatever Bree's take on Scott is lol. I don't wanna blab for 5 paragraphs about that blue mf here but. I hope this makes sense

Jimmy - Yinlong

I struggled with this mf the most because he's another very hashtag deep character. I felt really bad to remove his bird motifs completely because the canary is so essential to him, but a raptor nor a pteradon fit my image of him at all. I spent so much time looking into various species but it just aint it, but Yinlong was possibly quilled and we can still cover him in feathers, even if he has nothing close to wings haha... BUT ANYWAY. Yinlong is a small kind of pathetic looking dinosaur, and Jimmy definitely isn't small but he'd sure be made to feel that way. Yinlong translates to "Hidden Dragon" however, a rather thought-provoking name for such a dinosaur. Given his character, it sure does feel like there's a soul of a dragon laying dormant somewhere in him, buried by all the self deprecation and curse labels. Honorable mention to Tianyulong, a very similar dinosaur who was named after a museum, but "Tianyu" also translates to peace and content. Something that Jimmy can't yet but deserves to be

Etho - undefined raptor

Already made a loong post about raptor Etho haha which I assume yall have seen since the support towards that post is the only reason I'm even making this post

Skizz - Olorotitan

"Titanic Swan" close enough to an angel right. I feel the whole angel thing is a bit overdone when Skizz can become a malicious little creature every now and then, but swans much like angels do get viewed as beautiful and taken as symbolism of love. Much like Skizz is largely viewed as an angel and often as someone who can do no wrong. But mostly I wanted Skizz to be a hadrosaur/duck-billed dinosaur, because those are dinosaurs known for their speculated vocalizations. And what is Skizz good at? Talking and voicing his love and appreciation? Yeah? Yeah... I'm so sorry Skizz btw this hybrid idea does not work out

Again, a lot of these don't work so well as hybrids... Some like the long-neck ones I cant imagine to have more than a spiky spine back and a tail, but! These picks aren't based on hybrid potential but rather what I think genuinely fits. I did really work on this all day looking through a bunch of dinosaurs and research haha, but I do love dinosaurs a lot... If you disagree with any hey thats cool! Feel free to give me your opinions if you've any and I hope this was fun to scroll through regardless

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ Not everybody takes time to appreciate the holidays, it seems. Damian’s brow furrows as he inspects your arm. “You were…” “Awesome?” “Reckless.” pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: nada wc: 3.2k

totally forgot to mention this last chapter, but this fic now has an official playlist!

It takes some convincing from Damian and Jon for them to let you go back to work. Jon says you shouldn’t be back so soon after getting shot. You tell him that your body is fine and ready to go, and also remind him that one of the first things you did when you were better was spar with the whole damn Batfamily. He looks properly sheepish after being chastised.

Damian says that you don’t need the job anymore, since you live with his family now. You tease him, asking if you technically classify as his sugar baby. He scoffs, turning away. It gets him off your case.

Sam damn near jumps over the counter to get to you when they see you walk in. “[Name]!”

At Sam’s shout, Carrie and Garrett pop their heads out from the back. Carrie’s face lights up, smile lines showing as she rushes over to join you and Sam’s hug. Garrett lets one of his rare smiles show, patting your head.

“You shouldn’t be back so soon,” frowns Carrie, pulling back.

You would lift up your shirt to show that you were fine, but she’s right, you shouldn’t be back so soon. A bullet wound on a normal person wouldn’t be completely healed just yet, but, you know, super healing. You’ve been left with a very faint scar. Jon spent his time tracing it, eyes hard and lidded. It gave you goosebumps when his fingers would pass over it.

You wave them off, laughing softly at their concern. "I'm fine, guys, really. It's good to be back."

Sam eyes you skeptically, arms crossed. "You better take it easy, though. We can handle things here."

Carrie nods in agreement, though she's smiling. "Just don't overdo it. We were worried sick about you."

Garrett gives you a nod of approval, his expression serious yet supportive. "Glad to see you're up and about, [Name]. Take care of yourself."

You promise them you will, appreciating their concern and warmth. Sam ushers you behind the counter, immediately putting you to (light) work, much to your amusement.

"So, spill," Sam insists, leaning in conspiratorially. "What happened?”

“What do you mean?” you ask as you organize some sugar packets.

“Dude, Robin and Superboy literally hauled your ass out of here.”

“They just took me to the hospital, Sam,” you sigh. “I got shot, it was pretty urgent.” Shoving a pastry in Sam's mouth, you push past them to ready the coffee makers. “In other news, I moved in with my future rich spouse.” It’s a way to distract them from questioning too much.

Predictably, Sam chokes on the bun. “What!? Hold on, back up a minute, when did you start dating somebody?”

“It was a joke, we’re just friends,” you chuckle. “He’s a huge worrywart and refused to let me go back to my apartment. Could barely walk out of the front door this morning. Said I didn’t even need this job anymore, basically said he’d take care of me.” He didn’t really, but whatever. “Isn’t he sweet?”

“So you’re telling me he basically said you can be the rich trophy partner? Why the hell are you here then?” Sam deadpans.

You match their expression. “Wow. Nice to know I was missed.”

Sam rolls their eyes. “You’re impossible. Who’s the guy anyway?”

“Damian Wayne.”

Sam blinks. Once. Twice. “Can you repeat that? I could’ve sworn you said Damian Wayne. Son of Bruce Wayne. Heir to Wayne Enterprises.”

You huff, placing a hand on your hip as their brain fumbles. “Dude, you bagged the big one. Holy shit, I didn’t know you could pull like that.”

“I told you, we’re just friends.”

“I thought he was, like, stuck up, or something. Cold ice prince type.”

You feel the need to defend Damian’s honor, even if Sam has no true ire towards him. “He’s nice. A good friend. He’s just… awkward.”

Sam takes time to look at you, a brow raised. You hope they're not doing that thing when they just look at you and know all of your secrets. Eventually they hum, dropping it.

“...You think you can ask his dad to pay my tuition–”

Tonight marks your first official patrol with the Batfamily. You're already suited up, crouched on the ledge of a rooftop with Damian. His cape billows in the wind. The city below is alive with lights and sounds, a symphony of Gotham’s nighttime pulse. You adjust your stance, feeling the adrenaline start to course through your veins. Damian is focused, his eyes scanning the streets for any sign of trouble.

"Keep your eyes sharp," Damian says, his voice a low murmur. "Gotham's quiet tonight, but that can change in an instant."

You nod, your own senses heightened, every sound amplified in the quiet of the rooftop. The tension in the air is palpable, a reminder of the city's ever-present dangers.

Damian glances at you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You ready for this?"

“Been ready, are you?” you challenge with a smile.

Suddenly, a voice speaks into your ear. It's Barbara. "We've got a situation near downtown. Reports of a robbery in progress."

Damian tenses, his eyes narrowing. "Let's move."

You both leap from the rooftop, descending into the city's shadows. The thrill of the chase ignites your senses as you navigate the rooftops with practiced ease. Damian is a blur of motion beside you, his movements precise and controlled.

Your arm muscles tense and release with every web swing. You take time to twirl and flip around Damian in an elegant dance as he swings with his grappling hook. The two of you move around each other in synchronized harmony.

As you near the location of the robbery, you spot the scene from above. A group of masked men are trying to break into a high-end jewelry store. The glass is shattered, and the alarm is blaring. Damian signals for you to flank them from opposite sides.

You land silently behind a dumpster, observing the thieves as they hurriedly shove jewelry into bags. Damian moves in from the other side, his presence a shadow in the night. You wait for his signal, your muscles coiled like springs.

With a sharp nod from Damian, you spring into action. You leap out, webbing one of the thugs to the ground before he even realizes what’s happening. Damian disarms another with a swift kick, his movements fluid and efficient.

The remaining thieves scramble, but they're no match for the two of you. You dart between them, your webbing and acrobatics keeping them off balance. Damian is a blur of motion, his strikes precise and powerful. Within moments, the robbers are subdued, webbed up and disarmed.

Damian steps back, catching his breath. "Nice work," he says, his tone grudgingly approving.

"Were you practicing those moves to impress me?” you ask cheekily.

“Why, were you watching me?”

“I just can’t take my eyes off of you,” you sigh dramatically.”

“Stop flirting, losers,” Stephanie teases on the comms.

Just as you're about to talk back, a low rumble echoes through the alley. The ground shakes slightly, and you exchange a wary glance with Damian. A nearby manhole cover bursts open, and a hulking figure emerges from the sewers. It's Killer Croc, his massive form towering over you both. What the hell.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Croc growls, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent.

You throw up your hands. “Come on man, I wanted an easy night.”

Croc advances with heavy footsteps, his massive claws glinting in the dim light. Guess he’s not in the mood for chit-chat. Croc chuckles, the sound sending a chill down your spine. "Think you can stop me, little bats?" His voice reverberates through the space, filling the space with menace.

“I am not a bat,” you mutter. “Only in spirit I guess." Killer Croc has a similar demeanor to that of Rhino, at least in terms of size. You’ve dealt with more than enough of them to be well equipped to deal with this situation.

You exchange a quick nod with Damian, silently communicating your plan. "Let's do this," he says, his voice low but determined.

Without hesitation, you both spring into action. Damian charges forward, engaging Croc head-on with a series of lightning-fast strikes and evasive maneuvers. Meanwhile, you use your agility and webs to dart around Croc, aiming to distract and disorient him.

Croc swings a massive fist, aiming for Damian, who narrowly dodges and counters with a precise kick to the knee. You take advantage of the opening, firing webbing at Croc's arms, aiming to restrict his movements. The webs hold momentarily before Croc tears through them with brute force. Boo.

"Keep him distracted!" Damian calls out, his voice cutting through the chaos.

You nod, focusing on keeping Croc off balance while Damian assesses the situation. With each move, you gauge Croc's reactions, looking for vulnerabilities to exploit. His strength is immense, and you start to hope this won’t take long. You’d like to get a decent rest tonight.

Damian maneuvers around Croc, striking with calculated precision. His training and experience shine through as he lands blows with pinpoint accuracy, each one aimed at weakening Croc's defenses. You watch in awe, both of Damian's skill and the sheer determination in his eyes.

As the fight wears on, Croc becomes more aggressive, his attacks growing wilder and more unpredictable. You dart in and out, using the environment to your advantage, hoping to find an opening. It's a dangerous dance, the alley echoing with the sounds of combat and the occasional growl from Croc.

Croc is getting overwhelmed, which means he’ll get desperate. His eyes keep darting to the window. He’s gonna try to escape, shit.

He shoves Damian to the side with his arm. For a split second, you want to make sure he’s alright, but you know he is. Trust that he is. You seize an opportunity to leap onto Croc's back as he charges out of the alley and onto the street. The sudden movement sends pedestrians scattering, and cars screech to a halt to avoid the monstrous figure rampaging through the city. You wrap his shoulders, providing you some extra distance from him as he tries to reach for you. He bucks and twists as he runs, trying to shake you off.

Croc flips up cars as he runs. Your claws dig into his shoulders as you steer him out of people's way the best you can, while simultaneously trying not to get thrown off. People scream and flee as cars swerve to avoid the chaos. With each passing moment, your muscles strain under the weight and movement of the monstrous villain.

“Should you be on vacation or something? It’s the holidays! Take a day off, Christ,” you grumble.

Croc chuckles dangerously. “Hang on tight, not-bat.”

It’s your only warning (aside from your senses screaming at you to get out of the way. Too bad you can’t) as Croc makes a superhuman leap, crashing straight through a window of Gotham Mall. Your suit protects you from the glass as it crashes down around you. Shoppers scream and scatter as the massive creature barrels through the aisles, sending displays and merchandise flying.

“Do you have any non-destructive hobbies?” you huff, dodging his grabby hands. Croc cuts a corner narrowly, slamming you slightly into a wall.

“Swimming. In the sewers.”

“Well, of course, where else?” Oh shit, there’s a baby in the way! You throw a web from each wrist, pulling yourself over to the stroller. You pick it up and narrowly move it out of Killer Croc’s way, putting it down next to the mother and quickly webbing yourself back onto Croc.

“Thank you!” the mother cries.

“You’re welcome!” is all you can say before your web pulls you back onto Croc. You curl your hand into a tight fist and hit him right in his head as you return. Croc staggers from the force of your punch, shaking his head as he attempts to regain his bearings. His momentum slows, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

“Spinnerette, report,” Bruce asserts in your ear.

“Uh, Killer Croc’s rampaging in Gotham Mall. Trying to minimize the damage,” you breathe, dodging another swipe from Croc. 

The noise of glass shattering and displays being knocked over is deafening. You hear Damian's voice cut through the chaos over the comms, “I’m en route. Hang tight.”

You cling tighter to Croc, using your agility to stay out of his reach as he wreaks havoc through the mall. “Yeah, hanging tight is kind of the plan,” you mutter, half to yourself.

You web his face, causing him to growl in frustration. Croc has a thick hide as protection, so your fangs won’t be able to pierce him. Your venom is useless here, which sucks because it would’ve been really nice to have in this situation.

Okay, you’re on the third floor of the mall, since the bastard jumped real high. How can you trap him? His advantage is his strength, so you need to restrain him so that he can’t use it. The whirring of a grappling hook catches your attention. Looking behind you, you see Damian swinging over to you, surprisingly gaining speed.

You spray a web towards him, catching him by the chest. Damian grips it as you pull him towards you. He lands with ease on top of Croc’s back. Croc's roar of frustration reverberates through the mall as Damian joins you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you quip.

"Thought you could use a hand," Damian replies, his eyes never leaving Croc.

You grab his hands and wrap them around the makeshift web reins you had attached to Croc. “She–” you tap the ring you gifted him you know is under his glove, “–will tell you what to do. Don’t let him hurt anybody.”

Damian tries to catch your hand as you swing away, but you’re too quick for him. You gain speed, swinging ahead and away from Croc. “Tell me where a big glass window I can crash through is, K.”

“Take a left here.”

You swerve to the left. You can hear the commotion behind you as Croc thrashes and roars, but you focus on finding an exit point.

“Straight ahead.”

There. A large window overlooking the city. You see other buildings sparking with lights. Bracing yourself, you send yourself hurling into it. The glass shatters as you crash through it, arms out in front of you to protect yourself. Screams of people fade away behind you as you fall into the air. You’re lucky, there’s an intersection below you.

You swing onto a nearby lightpost. “I need the biggest and stickiest web you got, K.” You launch off and aim your hands in the middle of the intersection.

“Certainly, but it won’t be big enough for Killer Croc,” she says as a good and proper spider web slinks out and attaches to nearby light posts and buildings. The spiral pattern doesn’t extend to the radius of the web. “You’ll need to spin the rest of the web yourself.”

Bouncing off the center of the web, you start spinning the web across the intersection. The web begins to take shape, forming a large, intricate net that spans the entire intersection. Civilians look up in awe at your work. 

“Spinner!”

You look over as you hop across the web to see Nightwing grappling over. “Get the civvies out of here!”

He pauses, then nods. He swings down, quickly directing people away from the intersection to safety. He enforces power into his words, arms gesturing for them to go.

“Robin and Killer Croc are approaching.”

Using the web as momentum, you launch yourself and spray a web onto the ledge from which you jumped off. Climbing up, you stare down the large hallway of the mall. Croc is running straight towards you. He hasn’t thrown Damian off yet, so that’s good.

“Come on! I’m right here!”

“What are you doing–” hisses Damian in the comms.

Killer Croc growls, charging at you. His steps are thundering, echoing in the mall.

You brace yourself, waiting for the right moment. Croc lunges forward with a roar, his massive form barreling towards you. You time your move perfectly, leaping to the side just as Croc lunges out of the window space. You grip Damian’s cape, tugging him off of Croc as he begins to fall. The web bounces up and down as he lands in the center, trapped.

You pat Damian’s shoulder before jumping off the ledge after him. More webs spray from your wrist as you restrain Crocs arms to the web. You ignore his curses and yells as you struggles against your trap. It’s no use, the web holds firm.

“Holy cow,” whistles Dick, walking over. He reaches out to poke the web, but you snatch his hand away.

“Do that and we’d have to amputate you. It’s really sticky,” you frown solemnly. You’re joking of course.

Dick pulls his hand away, holding both of them up and a surrender gesture. “Okay, okay, I won't touch it,” Dick says with a grin, clearly amused. He looks around at the chaos in the mall, where people are cautiously peeking out from hiding places or rushing to leave.

“You know, you’ve certainly made a mess,” he comments, gesturing to the shattered glass and displaced merchandise around you.

“Actually, I think I’ve done worse.”

“Guess you’re fitting right in,” Dick remarks, his tone light but approving.

“Have I earned my rite of passage?” you smirk.

“Maybe if you can survive a month without causing a city-wide panic,” he teases, flashing you a grin.

Damian lands gracefully behind you, his cape billowing dramatically behind him. He surveys the scene with a critical eye, his expression serious and focused. You can tell he eyes Croc’s trapped form before he hurries over to you.

You hear the sirens of Gotham’s police force wail closer. “Always late to the party, it seems,” you hum, pursing your lips. You groan and flex your shoulder, still tingling from your little wall slam earlier.

“I’ll take it from here,” Dick reassures as the cop cars come to a stop near the scene. “You crazy kids go.”

Damian seems to have no qualms about that, since he grabs your hand and tugs you away. You let him drag you around, swinging with him as he grapples away. You swing through the night with Damian, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

Coming to a stop on a rooftop, Damian’s hand runs down your arm, squeezing gently. “Are you hurt?” he asks gently.

“A little bruised, but I’ll be okay.” Your arm tingles under his touch. You chalk it off as pain.

Damian’s brow furrows as he inspects your arm. “You were…”

“Awesome?”

“Reckless.”

You catch his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I knew what I was doing, birdie.” He sighs, a mixture of relief and frustration evident in his voice. “I know, I know,” you reply softly, bringing his hand to your lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “But I’m here, and I’m fine.”

He meets your gaze, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You handled yourself well back there.” The moment lingers between you, the adrenaline of the night’s events slowly fading into a quiet calm. Damian’s thumb strokes over your hand, a silent gesture of reassurance and gratitude.

Damian holds your hand tight as he guides you home.

The next day, Spinnerette is trending.

notes: short chapter because its really just a filler but next one is gonna pop off i PROMISe

also, i hope i captured killer croc correctly? have literally never watched or read anything with him in it so im SO sorry if he is nothing like how he is supposed to be

also i straight up yoinked this scene from Spider-Man: Miles Morales, just replaced rhino with croc.

[fox-bee926]

Who did this?

Harvey Specter x fem!reader

Masterlist A/N: Wow another one? I'm going to do one more after this and then answer an ask and put all my harvey fics on one post. Then after that who knows. I have an awesome aragorn x reader fic I've been playing around with so I might work on that. Definitely going to try and do more one shots to improve my writing. I really enjoy it but depression makes it a tad hard. Anyways! Enjoy! TW: **This story focuses on the physical abuse between the Reader character and her boyfriend. I am not responsible for the content you consume so please be advised. There are explanations of abuse, but no explicit scenes of abuse occurring.** abuse (physical and emotional), hurt/comfort, Harvey being very sweet, mention of painkillers but I'm talking like 2 tylenol or ibuprofen or something Word Count: 2.5k

You run across the street to the Pearson Hardman office building, just about soaking wet. All that protected you from the rain was a newspaper you bought right outside your building. You prayed all the way to work that it wouldn’t just completely break under the force of the rain. You had spent almost thirty minutes on makeup, twenty five more minutes than you usually spend. To go along with that, you couldn’t find an available taxi because of the rain. Not even the pain in your shoulder had let up, despite taking a couple painkillers.

Your boyfriend had gotten a bit angry with you last night after you went out socializing with some friends. It wasn’t your smartest move. You knew he didn’t like you to hang out with your guy friends without his permission. But you didn’t think it was that big of a deal. The feelings of your heart conflicted with your rational mind. All you know is you love him and he loves you. Which is why he gets upset when you go out without him. But then why wouldn’t he make time to go out with me alone?

You shook those thoughts out of your head as you swiped your card into the building. You took the time in the elevator to dry off with your sweater. Which was consequently soaked. Curses rang out in the elevator- cursing the sweater, the weather, your boyfriend, you didn’t know.

You sat down in the chair next to Donna and exchanged greetings. “How are we looking today, Donna?” You smiled as you saw Harvey sitting in his office. The only person getting into the office earlier than him was Donna.

“Full day as always. Oh, Jonathan from accounting asked for Harvey to look at his expense accounts for this last month. He won’t of course- but as long as they get to Harvey’s desk, Jon won’t speak another word about it until the next thousand dollar dinner with a client.” Donna goes back to typing rapidly on her computer. 

“And then the cycle continues,” You let out a hearty laugh for the first time since you left work last Friday. “I’ll get on that. Anything else while I’m in accounting?” You gather up different file folders that you need to take down to accounting anyway.

“Nope, say hi to Mr. Expense Forms for me!”

“Will do, Donna.”

You quickly walk to the elevator and down to the accounting department for Jonathan's expense reports. Harvey is still in the same spot as he was when you left as you open the door to his office. You make sure to open the door with your left arm, with the papers in your right. 

“I got a delivery for Harvey Specter from Mr. Jonathan Expense Forms from accounting. Fuming as always. You might want to lay off the fancy dinners for a week.” Harvey rolls his eyes at the notion.

“Sweetheart, you think I’m that good at my job that I don’t need fancy dinners to win over clients? You must think very highly of me.” He chuckles smugly as he writes words you can barely read on a legal pad. You deal his snark back just the same.

“Of course I think you’re good. You’re my boss, I’m legally obligated to think so.” You both laugh until you reach with your right arm to set the folder on his desk. You let out a noise just loud enough for Harvey to be concerned. 

“What happened to your shoulder?” 

“It’s nothing, I just fell.”

At this, Harvey looks up. You were never one to be clumsy, let alone fall so hard as to hurt yourself. As Harvey’s eyes assess you, he notices a large dark bruise on your wrist- both your wrists in fact. 

His silence worries you, and you follow his eyes to your wrists. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry-” You quickly try to pull your sleeves down to cover the spots. Remnants of rain water drove through the foundation. 

Harvey takes a few deep breaths as you stand there in shocked silence. For the smallest second, you think he’s going to hurt you. Rationally, you know the notion is absurd, but the mind that has dealt with angry men keeps you silent.

Harvey finally speaks after taking a minute to process the information he’s pieced together.

“Who did this to you?”

You’re taken aback, that small part of your mind thinking he would call you unprofessional or weak. “My... My boyfriend. He just gets a little annoyed with me sometimes. It’s truly nothing. I’ll do better to cover them-”

“A good man being annoyed never results in bruises. How did this happen?” Harvey has to go against every part of his nature not to rush out and ask Donna everything about this man, then subsequently find him. He’s thinking that those boxing lessons are actually going to come in handy.

But he knows he can’t. He knows that if he moves like that, or moves at all, he’d terrify you. He can see how your eyes dart around. Towards the door, towards your wrists, and towards himself. He didn’t know how you would react if he even stood up.

“I fell into a bookshelf. He pushed me a bit and I lost balance.”

“You mean he shoved you into a shelf.”

The way Harvey phrased it made you feel uncomfortable. “That’s a bit harsh, but you could phrase it like that.”

He stared at you in disbelief. This wasn’t the woman he saw on a daily basis. The woman that dealt with almost every slimy man that came into the building. The woman that he had slowly fallen in love with since she arrived here.

The woman before him seemed like a shell of the woman he met three years ago, and he couldn’t help what came out of his mouth next.

“Do you know how you sound? You should never be bruised, shoved, or red eyed if you’re in love. That’s simply not how it is, and I’m sorry you’ve been made to believe that.”

At this, the dam broke.

Tears had been pooling in your eyes from the moment Harvey saw the bruises. But at his last words you let out a pained sob. It hadn't sunk in just how bad it had gotten. Your boyfriend had done this a few times before, but had never gotten so harsh until last night.

All the pain from the last year had come rushing in, and you were about to break right in front of your boss. Heavy tears started to run down your face. It was at this moment you were glad you never wore heavy makeup. You did your best to stifle the sounds and cries that tried to escape, but outside, Donna still saw through the glass. 

Immediately, Donna calmly walks in. She takes one look at you, then Harvey. With a single nod from Harvey, Donna lets out a quiet "Car is on its way."

Unfortunately that made you feel even worse. "I'm so sorry, Harvey. This is completely unprofessional-"

Harvey finally stands up and walks towards you. At this point, what you need isn't space. He places his hands as gentle as can be on your arms to coax you to look at him. And you do, but looking at your red eyes and wet tears streaming down your face up close make his heart break even more.

"I don't give a shit about professionalism. Donna is getting the car and my driver is going to take you home-"

"No! He's there, he's been trying to move in with me and doesn't have a day job. He's just been staying there..." Your sentence trails off as you’re trying to process what you’re actually saying. Are you really doing this?

"Okay, then my driver will take you to my place and give you a key. We'll talk about the next steps when I get home. I'll get you some things from your apartment, okay?"

The tears were gone purely by witnessing Harvey be so calm, and you nodded slowly. All you could do was follow the sound of his voice. Like a lighthouse in a raging storm. 

Donna entered the room quietly, "The car is here."

"Good. Donna will walk you out." You nodded, not saying a word. You turn to walk out of Harvey’s office, but he reaches out for your hand. “You’ll get through this, alright?”

You give a small smile. However, your mental state did not display the same sentiment. Your mind was reeling from what had happened in the last- what, 10? 15 minutes? 

Donna leads you out the back staircase as a gesture of mercy. She knew that you didn’t want anyone else to see you like this. Harvey wasn’t exaggerating his view of you. Everyone in the office saw you as an unbreakable force.

Harvey’s driver opens the door for you. You look back at Donna, who is smiling sweetly. “I promise, Harvey will take care of everything. The only thing you need to worry about is taking care of yourself, okay?” 

You gave Donna the same small smile you gave Harvey. You were at the edge of your sanity at this point. Now that you’ve gone through all the sadness and shock of the... situation, you were embarrassed. Angry. Angry at yourself for letting a man put his hands on you for a full year. Angry at Donna for knowing exactly what was going on and getting exactly what was needed. Angry at Harvey Specter for being so goddamn perfect that you couldn’t help the butterflies that always arose in your stomach whenever he talked to you. Angry at the world for putting you in this position.

Wordlessly, you exited the car once it stopped in front of Harvey’s building. You reached his apartment without thought. You took your heels off, and put your purse on the closest counter you saw. 

And you cried.

_______

 Harvey exited the elevator with a large box held in his hands. It was purely full of necessities. A week's change of clothes, toiletries, some books he knew were your favorite. Everything else he could buy new. He looked down and saw your heels on the ground and your purse on the table beside him.

Once he set down the box on the floor, he saw you. You looked even worse than at the office. Your beautiful hair was frizzy and pulled in odd directions. The worst part was the absolutely destroyed look on your face. Eyeshadow and liner were smudged on your red tinged eyes which stared into space in front of you. 

Harvey sees your body stiff as a board on the edge of his soft couch, seemingly ready to run at a moment’s thought. “Have you been sitting like that since you got here?”

“No. I’ve only just sat down.” Your arms leaned on your knees, hands folded in your lap.

Harvey tries to ignore the hoarse sound in your voice. “Well, you can relax a bit if you’d like. I got you some more comfortable clothes if you want to change.”

Your brows furrow as you think. “Did he give you any problems?” For the first time since he came in the front door you look at him. He was visibly more relaxed than he is in the office. His suit jacket was tossed on the coat rake next to the door and the sleeves of his dress shirt were neatly folded up his arms. He walked towards the kitchen to the freezer. 

“He didn’t get a chance. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you again.” He walks over to where you’re sitting on the couch and sets down an ice pack. His shirt was obviously wrinkled, and his knuckles held the slightest tinge of blue. The thought of Harvey hurting someone made your stomach flip, but you didn’t feel quite so bad for the receiving party.

“Let’s get some ice on that shoulder, huh?” He could tell you were still sensitive, but it felt more subdued than the scared woman he saw in his office.

You nodded in agreement about the ice pack. You hadn’t really stopped to think about it until he said something. As you unbutton your shirt to reveal your nude colored undershirt, you wince. The swelling of the bruise had gotten worse since you hadn’t taken anything for it. You hadn’t noticed the pain when you were crying, but now it just felt terrible.

“Let me help.” You give Harvey a look when the words come out of his mouth, a glimpse of that fiery woman that he knows. But you sigh and relent. You managed to undo a few buttons at least before Harvey steps in.

He unbuttons your shirt down to your stomach and pulls the shoulder of the shirt down just enough to slide the ice pack onto the skin. As soon as it’s securely placed between you and the couch, you let out a groan. In relief or pain, you don’t know. All you knew was that the cold felt absolutely wonderful on your swelled skin.

You and Harvey stay like that for a while, the exact amount of minutes you don’t know and neither does he. Harvey is the first to speak.

“You’ve been awfully quiet.” 

You give him a look that says “I wonder why, dumbass.” But you refrain. “I’m thinking.”

He finally sits next to you on the couch and reaches his arm to grasp the top of the cushions. In his mind he excuses it as getting more comfortable, but the opportunity to touch you is also a bonus. Harvey was not a man of wise words for comfort, moreso actions and touch.

In a singsong voice, trying to lighten the mood, he says “Whatcha thinkin’ about.”

You smile a true smile and look towards him. Then the thoughts in your head come rushing in and the smile falls from your face. “I’m thinking about how I’ve been with him for so long that I don’t know how to live my life without him. So much of my life has been conforming to his ideals, his feelings. How am I supposed to love and be loved after him? After I’ve split my soul into so many pieces that I’ve lost track of where they all are?”

Both of you sit in silence, not sure what to say.

“I was definitely not expecting that.”

“I am... extremely sorry I said that, please just ignore-”

“I wasn’t finished, sweetheart. Firstly, I think you should see a professional about these feelings. But in the meantime, we can work on that together.” Harvey smiles, but then falters. “I- I mean, if you want. I’m not trying to get in your pants, I promise, all I’m saying is that I’m here whenever and you can stay as long as you want and-”

“Thank you, Harvey. It means a lot to hear you say that.” You laugh at the sight of a flustered Harvey Specter.

“To paraphrase, you're not alone in this. Not ever.”

You reach over with your good arm and pull him into as much of a hug as you can muster. In return, he pulls you close. Neither of you ever want to leave.