#girls make me think girls like it on my dick

[lovieku]

TRUE LOVE ⋆ 정국

when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.

⋆⁺₊❅. 5/6 from christmas & chill

pairing tattoo artist!jk x fem reader

genre fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l

warnings jk 24 | oc 24, jk thinks he’s too cool for love, oc suffers from a chronic case of “i can fix him”, she eventually does, oc simps HARDDD and jk only pretends to be unaffected, yea he’s a bit of a dick sometimes but he’s also Very funny, brief description of panic attacks, male masturbation, kissing, idk what else to add i just rly rly love them and will think of them for the entirety of xmas season

word count 10.2k

author’s note hi lovies 🩷 it’s my last time with c&c 🙁 i’m kinda emotional omg… it’s been such a fun, warm and lovely week, and i love each one of you for showing endless support to this project <33 i’ll keep trying to not disappoint… please tell me if you like this!!! thank u always and always 🩷 luv u <3

banner by the gorgeous @awrkive ⊹₊⟡⋆

On the first day of December, your path crosses with thee Jeon Jeongguk’s after enough years for your brain to trip slightly before recognising him. But it would have been impossible not to—there’s likely a whole, well-preserved section of your thinking organ dedicated to that mortifying phase of high school, when your hormones turned life into an endless internal tug-of-war.

The moment your eyes widen at having him stand in front of you, you’re yanked unceremoniously into the past, brought back to buried, locked and left to gather dust feelings that have your teenage self’s screams echoing within you in a chorus of delight and cringe.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is simply following his duties as a tattoo artist. When he catches sight of you next to his appointed client on such a breezy day, the cold December air starting to find its space even in the confines of his studio, he only nods his chin upward at you in slow recognition.

It’s awkward, at first. Only because you make it.

You’d volunteered to accompany Eunbi, your best friend, to get her first tattoo as an early Christmas self-gift. Your mission was clear: support her, hold her hand if the pain became unbearable (though you’re probably the least dependable person when it comes to making clarity in situations of panic, as seen right now), and be the first to bask in her excitement as she finally sees what she’s always pictured to be inked on the skin of her forearm. A blue whale tattoo, large enough to make you wince just thinking about the needlework.

You’d never go through something like that. Never.

And that’s exactly what’s showing on your face when you’re met with Jeongguk’s full sleeve of tattoos, leaving you rooted to the spot.

You’d always known him to be the different kid, the quiet one with forced sharp eyes that canonically listened to alternative rock and glared at anyone who dared approach, whether to tease him or befriend him. He’d convinced himself that no one could ever understand him.

See, you’d instead fooled yourself into thinking you were the exception. That you did understand him.

Fourteen-year-old you had gone through some weird phases, and the one that resurfaces now at the vision of his adult self is the one centered entirely around him. You unashamedly had the biggest crush on Jeongguk. To you, he was mysterious and edgy—in an effortlessly cool way.

You’d tried everything. Offered him your lunch more times than you were left with any for yourself. Even cut your bangs to have them fall over your eyes to mimic his fringe, dyed a strand in blue, overhauled your wardrobe to align with his back-and-grey one. None of it worked. He never noticed.

But, thinking of it now, there’s no way he didn't. He definitely did. How could any boy turn a blind eye to a lovesick girl’s heartfelt Valentine’s letter, a hopeless romantic girl who almost cried on the spot when she got rejected? Jeongguk just chose to willingly ignore it.

These are all valid reasons as to why your functions seem to slow down in his unexpected presence. And you’re not going to deny nor fake that his calm, almost detached demeanor doesn’t flow through your body and right to your left eye, making it twitch with a slight tremor.

Yet, you must also admit that your teenage self was onto something. Jeongguk has changed drastically but he’s also stayed the same. You think fourteen-year-old him would be proud of where he is right now. Two piercings on his lower lip and one on his eyebrow, intricate ink tracing up his muscled arm, his… muscled arms. Wow. And then, his studio. His own studio, a place for him and his passion, one that he made into his job. That’s undeniably cool.

Maybe just not cool enough for you to be gaping like an idiot as he moves with purpose, adjusting your friend’s arm to position the stencil he had prepared, perfectly fitting in the space she had chosen. His muscles flex with every shift, and it’s impossible for you to go past that with the way the black beater he’s wearing is loose on his torso, but still clinging on his chest.

Eunbi notices, of course. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed and in return she doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when your usual chatter dries up entirely, only gulping obnoxiously noisily and alternating that with nervous silences. Jeongguk, too, catches on.

He’d always known you as obnoxious and noisy. In, huh, a good way. Or whatever.

Jeongguk just agrees that you were (and probably still are, if the pastel yellow skirt softly flowing down your legs paired with a cozy cream sweater and the full toothed grin you shoot at your friend are any indicators) the pinpoint embodiment of his opposite. You’ve always been talkative, smiley, and friendly, eager to help and to receive help, not in the slightest ever turning down the opportunity to blabber on, and on, and on.

Honestly, Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever truly listened to a single word of your rambling back in the day, especially during those times when you’d bounce up to him and launch into enthusiastic rants about obscure alternative bands he himself hadn’t even heard of. He respected the hustle, though. He’d always wondered where you found the time and energy to immerse yourself in music like that.

He much preferred when you were less trying so hard to be him and mirror his tastes, more when you gave up on impressing him and simply stayed true to yourself, the girl whose heart belonged to Justin Bieber and One Direction. Truthfully, he fucked with them. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. His quiet, brooding image wouldn’t survive that revelation.

What he respected the most was your resilience. After all the times he rejected you and your awkward blurts of confessions, you still didn’t think it was enough of a reason for your villain origin story to take off, and instead remained the same frustratingly positive ray of sunshine you’d always been.

Now, as Jeongguk works on the tattoo in front of him, the very design that caused all these long-buried memories to rise back, his dark eyes flick toward you sitting on a stool in a near corner every now and then, a hint of confusion in his expression each time you take more than five seconds to reply to his small talk.

It’s just, you’re a bit taken aback. Since when does he do small talk? The foreign smoothness with which Jeongguk handles interactions is so far removed from the sullen boy you used to know. You’re not prepared for this version of him. It’s disarming, to say the least.

Enough time has passed for you to settle into the odd scenario, your current best friend and your long-standing high school crush in the same room. Slowly but surely, your curiosity sparkles again, and the signature tendency to let thoughts tumble out of your mouth unchecked returns to you naturally.

“Ouch, that looks painful.”

Jeongguk snorts, eyes trained on Eunbi’s arm as he glides the tattoo needle with precise strokes that have his brows pinching and the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips, a habit you remember from the past but one you’ve never found quite so distracting before.

Still, he multitasks and responds without missing a beat, “Wanna try?”

Wow. This is, like, the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. It spurs you on to do anything it takes to hear more of his voice, the sound of it definitely deeper than the shy tones you struggled to coax out of him ten years ago.

That is probably why you literally lie, “Hm. Maybe. I was thinking of getting one actually. In the future.”

Eunbi chokes on her spit, her chest coughing with the sudden, blatantly fake revelation, and Jeongguk promptly pauses, lifting the needle from her skin as his tattooist reflexes kick in. While your friend apologizes between a clearing of her throat and sinks back into the chair, she doesn’t keep from glaring at you, her expression screaming What the hell are you doing?

You deadpan. You’ll explain everything later and it’ll all make sense. And you know this will inevitably end up being added to the list of the many embarrassing facts she knows about you and threatens you with when she wants to go clubbing and you don’t.

Jeongguk uses the brief interruption to glance up at where you’re perched in the corner of his peripheral vision, just to square you up and down with a skeptical arch of his brow, “Really?”

You scoff, smoothing out the creases on your skirt as if the fabric is somehow responsible for the lie you just told, “Is that shocking?”

He hums, returning to his work with the buzz of the needle filling the studio again, his voice padded the more he gets closer to Eunbi’s forearm, “I just find it hard to believe such a princess like you could handle any pain.”

You gulp.

What you’re getting from this conversation is that Jeongguk has always had an idea of who you are in his mind all along. That he’s always perceived you in some way. As much as your inner fourteen-year-old is swooning at the attention, gobbling up each of the tiny crumbles he’s giving you, it doesn’t sit right with you. What exactly does he think of you?

“Test me.”

He shrugs, eyes fixated on the shade he’s perfectioning with black ink, “Busy now.”

“I’ll go pay for mine. I saw you have one last free spot today,” you announce, the words tumbling out with more confidence than you feel. You’re already on your feet before the sentence is fully formed, betraying the fact that your nosy tendencies had gotten the better of you earlier. You’d discreetly glanced at his appointment book when Jeongguk and Eunbi were finalizing her tattoo details and negotiating the final price at the desk.

He hums, head tilting slightly, “And I wanted to spend it bumming around.”

“Too bad. You’ll have to postpone that.”

You walked into this studio swearing you’d never let a needle even brush you.

Now you’re stretched out on a leather bench, Jeongguk leaning over you with a stencil in hand, gloved fingers moving with careful precision.

The design you’d chosen came from his portfolio—a delicate illustration of two butterflies in motion, their soft threads intertwining. You’d flipped through countless pages of bold skulls and intricate linework before settling on this.

The spot you’d chosen for the tattoo was the flat, firm plane between your breasts. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just a place you’d always liked. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that nature hadn’t exactly blessed you in the cleavage department. Subconsciously, perhaps, you thought that adding something there might give the illusion of more.

“Tehe,” you can’t stop the breathy giggle that escapes as the cool paper brushes against your skin. Your hand is pressed to your bra, holding it in place as best you can, though the situation feels so surreal it’s hard to focus on anything but the ridiculousness of it all.

Jeongguk glances up at you with a glare that’s more exasperated than angry before returning to the delicate task at hand, “What’s funny?”

Your voice wobbles, “I just— I tend to laugh during serious moments.”

“Oh. Weird.”

“Sorry.”

With a small sigh, he smooths the stencil, and once it’s transferred he hands you a square mirror, waiting for your approval. You nod, the butterflies now perfectly poised in their eternal dance, and Jeongguk doesn’t waste a moment.

The buzz of the needle fills the room as he leans closer, one gloved hand resting on the upper part of your chest to steady himself. He’s mere seconds from beginning the inking process when another laugh bubbles out of you.

Jeongguk sits back abruptly, dropping his pen onto the metal tray with an audible clink. Tilting his head, he levels you with a look of thinly veiled irritation. “I really can’t work if your chest keeps moving.”

“Sorry,” you blurt again, turning your head to face the wall. You clamp your lips together tightly, mentally scrolling through every sad memory you can conjure. Think of something awful. Your childhood dog dying. Okay, maybe not that sad—

“You haven’t changed a bit since high school. Always smiling like you live surrounded by flowers and rainbows,” Jeongguk’s mutter vibrates against your chest, warm breath fanning over the cold skin, distracting you from your no-giggling mission.

The unexpected observation has your brows furrowing in a mildly offended frown, and banter is ready on your tongue. “You’re just the same too, Gguk. The emo boy who thinks he’s too cool for a smile.”

“I’m not an emo boy. The fuck,” he scoffs, kissing his teeth and murmuring more of his indignation under his breath.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. I can teach you.”

The whirring needle glides across your skin with a slightly firmer touch, making you hiss softly under your breath. He seems unbothered by the reaction, and instead bothered by your words, “Teach me what.”

“How to smile a bit more,” you reply, your voice laced with mockery as you keep your gaze firmly fixed on the wall. The smirk playing on your lips is triumphant; he walked right into your little jab, hehe.

Your mind is already racing, piecing together the beginning of a sarcastic rant about how his perpetual scowl probably contributed to his mysterious high school persona. For the sake of his ego, you won’t add how it worked in his favor, how more than one girl (your own self) found his untouchable vibe completely irresistible.

Even though, thinking back, he looked ridiculous. His big, round, slightly scared-of-the-world eyes truly didn’t belong with the heavy black eyeliner.

But before you can get a single word out, Jeongguk straightens his posture, pulling away from your chest. With a practiced motion, he tosses one of his gloves onto the counter behind him, his expression cool and indifferent. “It’s done.”

“Done?!” you exclaim, tilting your chin down to look at your chest. You go slightly cross-eyed trying to catch a glimpse of the design now inked onto your skin. Forever.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even feel it.”

Jeongguk seems equally done with small talk, transitioning into a professional explanation of the tattoo’s aftercare step. His tone is calm but clipped, and you can’t tell if it’s his usual demeanor or just reserved for you. He also hands you a small tube of cream of which you’re not sure the use of, too enthralled by the vision of his colored sleeve this up close.

And still laying on the leather bed, you almost reach to trace one of the many lines with your finger before he interrupts, “You can pay with Yoongi at the entrance.”

Clearing your throat, you sit up, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt as Jeongguk turns his back to you, his focus already back on cleaning his tools. You still are not over, “Thank you, Jeongguk. Can I— huh. Can I get your number?”

He pauses mid-motion, just long enough for the silence to stretch thin and taut. Turning around to study your features, he stares you up and down with knitted brows and a hostile kind of confusion painting his expression. “… For what exactly?”

“In case anything happens with the tattoo.”

Jeongguk stills for a second, eyes narrowing slightly, then turns back to what’s keeping him so occupied with a noncommittal grunt, “Huh. Sure. Yoongi has my business cards at the desk. You can ask him. Have a good day.”

With Eunbi practically dragging you out of the room, you don’t have the chance to say anything more, though your chest burns with indignation. It’s not that you expect him to fall over himself at the chance to catch up, but the sheer indifference is maddening.

Should you pretend you don’t care either? You could. But really, who are you fooling? You still have those old diaries buried somewhere in your closet, their pages crammed with his name written in looping, lovesick cursive. That little girl in you never truly died.

On the fourth day of December, you finally text him. It’s about your tattoo, of course. There’s not much else to say to him, but when his only reply to your picture of the healing process is a yellow thumbs up, you find your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Words start forming before you’ve fully processed them, and before you know it, you hit send.

You [3:39 p.m]: btw u still friends with kim tae?

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: Yes

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: He’s my best friend

You [3:43 p.m.]: ohhh, cool

jeongguk [3:45 p.m.]: You want his number?

You [3:46 p.m.]: no… i’m good with yours ☺️

You can’t help but giggle at how his typing bubbles appear and then fade for a whole minute, biting your lower lip with a sheepish grin, savoring the silent victory. You’re doing this for your fourteen-year-old self, who would’ve squealed at the thought of making Jeon Jeongguk flustered. But you’re a different girl now. You’ve changed. No man could ever reject—

jeongguk [3:48 p.m.]: If there’s nothing else about the tattoo then 👋

“Hmph,” your frown is so pronounced that you feel your chin aching and your wrinkles prematurely deepening. Well, this is not the first time you come face first with his sour antics. Only now, you’re prepared.

You [3:48 p.m.]: yall hanging out soon? let me join

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: Why lol

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: He barely even remembers you probs

You [3:50 p.m.]: who would not remember me

jeongguk [3:50 p.m.]: The only thing i’m now remembering about you is how I couldn’t stand your ass

You gasp, hand coming up to brush against your parted lips. With a huff, you hastily click at your keyboard, “Mean. Sent. Ugh.”

On the sixth day of December, your persistence pays off, and you find yourself at a random bar you’d never been to before, seated with both Jeongguk and Taehyung.

Between Jeongguk’s cigarette breaks—forcing the three of you to brave the cold outside—and brief moments in corners of the cramped place where the music feels muffled against the walls, you manage to catch up with Taehyung. The rest of the time though, the noise inside is so deafening that it makes any kind of meaningful conversation impossible.

Even more when a random girl slides into the booth next to him, capturing his attention entirely, leaving you and Jeongguk in paradoxical silence.

The tattoo artist has been glued to his phone with his head down for the last 20 minutes, and now you alternate between observing his side profile, roughened by the piercings and a more defined jawline, and analysing the weird dynamic that is beginning to form between Taehyung and the girl, sitting in front of you.

Alone with your thoughts and, well, the pulsating music, you feel yourself getting unreasonably closer to symptoms you know all too well, that threaten to have you spiraling. You shake your head, forcing it to stop. There’s no reason for anxiety to visit you at such an inconvenient time.

But of course, the little voice in your head starts listing all the totally valid motives why this is indeed the perfect time for it to visit you.

The bar feels suffocating on your skin.

Your dress clings too tightly.

The couple facing you is shamelessly close to making out.

Jeongguk sighs in visible boredom.

You shouldn’t have come. Hell, you shouldn't have suggested it in the first place. A smarter version of yourself would have brought Eunbi for balance, for comfort. But in your foolishness, you thought this could be an opportunity for you and Jeongguk to catch up. Instead, you feel foreign to him, foreign to this pub booth, and the air begins to feel foreign to your lungs. You’ve never liked bars, clubs, or places with loud music.

You sniffle, looking down at your lap. Then up at the ceiling. Then around the room. It keeps spinning and booming with volume that only adds to the feeling of helplessness. Quick, quick, quick.

What are five things that you can see?

Five. Your gaze falls on Taehyung and the girl, their lips and tongues clumsily entangled as they laugh between sloppy kisses. No help there. The air catches harder in your throat.

Four. Your empty glass, its smudged rim a reminder of the single drink you had, now sitting uncomfortably in your stomach.

Three. Your scuffed heels, their tips worn to the nub despite your best efforts to hide it with a marker.

Two. The swirling lights above the bar, dizzying as they flash brighter and brighter.

One. Jeongguk’s tattooed hand on your thigh.

His fingers dig into the skin, shaking you alarmedly, with a force you’ve never known from him, not even when it came to stopping your shaking stomach as you were laying on the studio’s leather bed.

Head snapping up to face him, you’re met with a perfect resemblance of how you must look right now. Wide eyes, knitted brows, nose flaring and exhaling, and you try to follow the movements of his mouth, but they jumble together annoyingly in your brain. You lean closer, narrowed orbs still fixated on his lips to try and read them. Are… you… ok—

“___, you’re scaring me. Hey, hello? Are you okay?”

Jeongguk moves from your thigh to your shoulders, jolting you gently but firmly from the fog that is threatening to cloud up your brain. The sudden clarity hits you, but you still stumble forward, your weight toppling over his chest. With it, your head dips rapidly, hurtling toward the sharp edge of the table, and before Jeongguk knows it his instinct snaps and he catches you promptly.

The next steps blur together. You vaguely register the boy next to you standing up and pulling you along with him, his broad shoulders supporting one of your arms while his inked one secures around the small of your waist, holding you firmly against him.

Then, it’s nothing but brief flashes. Jeongguk pressing a water bottle to your lips. Sitting you down on the stairs outside the pub. Holding your hair back as you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach onto the pavement. Cracking a smile to make you laugh, showing off his tattoos in exaggerated detail like it’s the grandest tour of your life. Opening the door to his car and gently easing you into the passenger seat, ensuring the seatbelt clicks into place.

Inside his car, you slowly feel your senses come back to you.

At a redlight that you recognise as the one near your apartment complex, you muster a small and hoarse thank you. Jeongguk only hums low, eyes fixated on the road and fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.

Before a sheepish smile can make its way on your lips and spread across your face, your head twitches back as your brows furrow. Your thoughts suddenly catch up with you, “Hey, how do you know the way to my flat?”

His gaze briefly flicks toward you in annoyance, then back to the road. “You literally just told me.”

“Oh.” A beat passes before you giggle softly. “Don’t remember.”

Jeongguk mutters something intelligible under his breath, and next thing you know he’s turning down your street and slowing in front of the building that matches the number you gave him. Given your current state, he begins to question if that is even the right one.

“This one!” You point at the tall front gate with an almost childlike excitement, back shifting slightly from the seat as your grin stretches wide. Jeongguk grimaces. Why the fuck do you look like you’ve been reuinted with your home after years apart, as if you weren’t there just a couple hours ago?

“Right. Huh, you good with going back on your own?”

“Yes. I’d hate to bother you further. I’m sorry for this, I… was getting better, I guess.”

The sad confession doesn’t land with the weight it should, softened by the smile painted on your lips and the chuckle you let out as if it were nothing. Jeongguk’s eyelid twitches, unsettled by the unnecessary happiness that always seems to drip from you, even when it doesn’t belong.

“‘S okay. Have a good night,” he awkwardly bows his head, waiting for you to exit the car. When you stay still, he clears his throat, adding just to fill the silence, and perhaps because he means it, “Huh, and make sure to rest a lot.”

You take a moment, maybe longer than you should, to study his features up this close. You particularly fixate on the way his eyes dart everywhere but never land on yours. Then, with your signature toothy grin, you bow back and open the car door, leaving with a string of thank yous, and get home safe, and I’ll text you, and please, reply to me, and bye.

Jeongguk has to fight a smile of his own.

On the tenth day of December, you realise you want him. Even more badly than your fourteen-year-old self ever did. Which is frankly insane.

You don’t know if it was the natural way he looked after you during your episode, or his dry sarcasm as he actually started replying to your random updates throughout the day.

But no, it was definitely the selfie he sent you after what he said was a long day. Messy hair, tired eyes, a hint of a smile. You’d struggled to even gulp down your saliva when the picture popped up in your chat, and maniacally stared at it with eyes glued to the bright screen before sending one of your own. He had replied with Cute. followed by Your hair pin is cute.

That is why you find yourself facing… Yoongi? If you remember correctly. The guy at the front desk of Jeongguk’s studio.

You beam at him, and what you’re met with instead is a confused stare. You inhale, “Hi. Is Jeongguk in?”

Yoongi scratches his head, muttering, “He’s busy with a client.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” you wave off his concern. “Can I wait here?”

The boy hesitates, looks unsure the more your interaction develops, and he glances between you and the empty waiting area. He relents with furrowed brows, “Sure… Huh, It’s a back tattoo, so it’ll take him a while.”

You shrug and plop yourself onto the leather sofa, seemingly unfazed, “I like waiting.”

Crossing your legs, you take in the studio’s atmosphere, eyes drifting to the dark walls lined with framed artwork and certificates. You spot Jeongguk’s name on many of those.

For the next fifteen minutes, you try distracting yourself by flipping through the stack of tattoo magazines on the coffee table. You wince at inked heads, faces, butts, and even… more private parts. Deciding this world is definitely not for you, you slam the book shut.

By the time an hour passes, you’re fighting a battle with your lack of sleep. The third yawn you manage to stifle, but the fourth escapes before you can stop it. Yoongi, seated at the desk, doesn’t bother hiding his unimpressed stare. Still, he’s polite enough to offer you a glass of water, a coffee, or even a chance to join him for a cigarette break.

You decline all of it, though your throat does feel dry.

Maybe you should have planned this with a bit of rationality. Or at least gotten more sleep. Now, your every blink is slower, eyelids batting to shut and taking longer to flutter open again. Hm, this feels nice. You’ll just let them rest for a bit longer. And longer. And a bit more.

The next time you open your eyes, Jeongguk’s face is inches away, his warm hand resting firmly on your arm. You jolt upright with a startled yelp.

���Jeongguk.”

He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in an unmistakably mocking smirk. “Hey. You don’t have a bed?”

You sit up, forcing Jeongguk to step back and straighten to his full height. Your neck cranes upward to glare at him, brows furrowed in what you hope is an intimidating glare, though you sport a pout that is all but menacing, “Shut up.”

He clicks his tongue, turning back to round the desk and fiddle with the appointment book, clearly unbothered. You take the moment to rub your eyes—only to remember, too late, that you’d worn makeup. A quick glance around reveals how much has changed since you last let your eyelids flutter open. The lights in the studio are dim, the hallway is dark, and every door is shut. Yoongi is nowhere in sight. It’s just the two of you in the deathly quiet space.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your parted lips, “Did I fall asleep? I'm so sorry. I was probably really tired from yesterday.”

Jeongguk hums, focus still locked on the book in front of him, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t ask why you came here in the first place, and doesn’t acknowledge your apology. Ugh. This is humiliating.

Before you can stand, you feel something heavy draped over your body. It’s a jacket. Definitely not yours, since you never took it off. At least not consciously. No, this is a worn black leather one on which his scent lingers. You tug it closer, puzzled, and then look up at him, holding it out. “Did I steal this in my sleep?”

Jeongguk scrunches his nose, “Ew, are you a sleepwalker?” Locking the till, he strolls over to you and plucks the jacket from you, casually slipping it on. “No, I put it on you. Wanted to see how long someone could feel safe enough to pass out in my studio. Thinking of turning this place into a daycare. I’ll have you play in the morning, get some lunch, nap time...”

There’s a beat of silence in which his sarcasm lingers in the air, and you stare at him, unamused. He shrugs, smirk unwavering.

You huff, “I regret coming here.”

“Yeah, why did you come here?”

Smoothing down your pink wool sweater, you stand up to stretch with zero shame. Then, fluttering your lashes at him, you assert with a smile, “You’re coming with me to the Christmas markets. This Sunday.”

Jeongguk groans like the idea physically pains him, “Oh, I would fucking hate that.”

Ignoring him, you zip up your puffer jacket and rock on your toes, “Pick me up at seven, okay?”

He glares, unimpressed at your excitement, before heading toward the entrance and pulling a hefty set of keys from his pocket, “I don’t even remember where you live.”

You hurry after him, following him outside and shuffling closer in your coat at the cold air hitting you. Watching as he locks the door and pulls down the rolling shutter with its red-and-black skull graffiti, you chirp, “You’ll have to text me for that.”

Jeongguk rises up again, giving you a slow once-over. He seems distracted by your hair before snorting, “You’re talking like I’m the one who spent their afternoon napping in my studio just to drop this bomb and leave. Couldn’t you just text me this?”

You shrug innocently. He sighs, reaching out for you, “Do you need a ride hom—”

“Bye!”

You spin on your heel and skip off in the opposite direction before he can let his own greeting out, waving a gloved hand behind you. Jeongguk stays where he is, arm still held out.

Do you even have a car? He hopes so—it’s freezing out.

With another sigh, he shakes his head and tugs his jacket tighter around himself. Why are you so fucking weird?

On the fourteenth day of December, your arm is looped tightly through Jeongguk’s as you stroll through the Christmas markets, burying your face further in your scarf to shield against the icy air, and with each few step you gasp at things that the boy next to you finds utterly unimpressive.

You stop at nearly every stand, eyes glowing with the warm Christmas fairy lights strung all around, effortlessly picking up conversations with the vendors and melting even the most stoic faces with the scrunching of your nose at every grin and the exaggerated nods following descriptions of their crafts.

Through all of it, Jeongguk remains put at your side, his arm linked with yours and a subtle pout on his lips. When you tease him about it, he simply shrugs, and you figure it’s just his natural expression. You find that oddly endearing.

He still humors your enthusiasm, offering low hums or murmured praise whenever you exclaim you’ve finally found what you’ve been searching for everywhere, and he offers to pay every time, the gesture so casual that he doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

When you bow to the nth seller, clutching yet another bag of sweet treats tightly to your chest, Jeongguk exhales and resumes slow walking beside you, “I don't like these places.”

You glance up at him, fluffy hat almost slipping off before he promptly secures it back on your head with a gesture so smooth you hardly notice it. You instead wonder, “Then why are we here now?”

He slips his hand into his pocket, “Because you threatened me.”

“With a really good time.”

“If this is your version of a good time, you might as well kick me in the balls. That probably feels better.”

You gasp, halting in your tracks to glare at him. When he lets a small chuckle topple out of him, you think you might forgive him. No, you’re more than sure with the way his smile lingers. You sheepishly look away, muttering, “Don’t tempt me, emo boy.”

“I’m not—”

“Oh yes, you are,” you interrupt, snapping your face back to his. Clearing your throat, you prepare your best imitation of him, exaggerating a frown and lowering your voice, “I’m so different, I hate Christmas.”

Jeongguk scoffs, pulling you tighter to him when a scooter unexpectedly zips past you. You yelp, instinctively shuffling closer to his arm. He continues the conversation casually, unaffected, “That’s the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard. And also, I never said that.”

Releasing the breath you held for a moment too long, you uncertainly keep your slow stroll going, only narrowing your orbs at him, “It’s written all over your face.”

“I love Christmas.”

The admission is small, his voice soft and almost reluctant, like it pains him to reveal something so simple and obvious as loving Christmas. When you lean your chin on the puffed arm of his jacket, he doesn’t look down at you, his gaze fixed ahead, guiding the two of you through the chaos of the busy street.

You chirp, your steps stumbling, “Really?

Only then he shifts his attention to you, steadying you with his other arm wrapping around your figure in what seems like a hug, before he lifts you up by the neck of your coat and retreats just enough to face you. His lips press into a straight line as he nods, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes the more he stares in yours, “Yeah, really. I just don’t like… crowded spaces.”

You can’t help but think back to what happened just a week ago. The exact reason why the spirals in your brain wouldn’t stop twisting and tangling is now slipping from his lips in a voice that quietens as he seems to grasp the delicacy of his own confession.

He doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him. Drawn-up brows over wide and sparkling eyes—the only part of your face visible beneath your scarf—stare at him with something too tender, too focused, that makes him uneasy. He turns his head to the side, the tips of his ears red not only from the cold, and pulls you along toward another stand, an almost nervous distraction.

It’s your turn to frown. Maybe the one that’s permanently plastered on his face tonight isn’t just a reflection of his usual sullen demeanor. With a knot tightening in your chest, you can’t help but feel like you dragged him into something he truly hated, and that he wasn’t just pretending to.

What if this isn’t just your evil inner voice talking? What if this isn’t just overthinking, but the factual truth of your current reality? He’s hating every second of this but still enduring it because— you catch your breath with a long and strained inhale, because—

“Hey, dimples. You okay?”

Jeongguk moves to stand in front of you, his hands settling gently on your shoulders, a stance eerily reminiscent of that night you were just thinking back to. He nods at you, “Breathe with me, hm?”

You find yourself quickly adjusting to his comforting aura, drawn in by the reassurance in his eyes trained on you, never wavering, watching closely as you begin to mirror the measured rise and fall of his chest, your breathing gradually syncing with his until the tightness in your chest starts to ease.

When you feel your feet touching the ground again, you offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m okay. Sorry. Just…” You quickly scan your surroundings, eyes landing on a colorful stand, “Wait here a second, okay?”

Jeongguk lets you slip away, fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He takes a few hesitant steps closer, careful not to crowd you but unable to tear his eyes away from your next actions, how your grin comes back on your lips with unpracticed ease, lighting up your face as easy talk flows between you and the seller. A few coins trade hands, and soon you’re holding two churros, their chocolate-dipped ends threatening to drip onto the ground.

You don’t hesitate, biting into one of them before it has the chance to make a mess, and with a quick nod of your head you motion for Jeongguk to follow. He does so, only after taking the churros from your hands, and letting you seek his warmth again with an arm snaking under his. He’s only letting you do this because it’s fucking cold, no other reason.

You walk, and walk, guiding him along until you find a quieter corner, away from the bustle, where you two stand isolated from the rest. The dim lighting casts a softer glow, and the distant hum of chatter and music fades into a gentle background noise.

Glancing up at him, you flash a playful smile before leaning in to bite another chunk of the churro he’s holding, your laughter spilling out as he grimaces in exaggerated disgust and pulls the sweet out of your reach. You settle onto a nearby bench, patting the empty spot beside you invitingly.

Jeongguk is unsure of what this means. He takes slow steps towards you, handing you your churro—which you take eagerly, already chewing on it—before tilting his head back in mild confusion, “But… you wanted to visit the markets.”

You shake your head, your bug eyes meeting his as you speak around a mouthful of sugar and chocolate, “There’s no point if you’re not going to enjoy it.”

The look you’re giving him is one he’s seen countless times before—familiar, and annoyingly reminiscent of ten years ago. It’s the same look that, he’s convinced, is solely responsible for making his knees weak and his fingers jittery, no longer something he can blame on the cold. You’re unbelievably frustrating.

He clicks his tongue, looking away, “You’re fucking weird.”

You giggle, humming, “If weird is a synonym for whipped, then sure.”

He has to fight the twitch of his lips. Fakes a gag instead. You chuckle louder. Only then, he hints at a smile, “C’mon. Let’s go check out some other stuff.”

“But—”

He interrupts, pulling you up by your forearm, “I’m hungry.”

The next hour you spend wandering around is made of Jeongguk’s small, imperceptible ways of cracking: his pout less prominent, more replaced by lips pulled into a tight line or in a mildly pursued scowl as you ask him which beanie looks better—the pink or purple one; his so evident sarcasm as he comments on how the old vendor was totally flirting with you, or when he mockingly adds to your over-the-top excitement every time you spot a dog. All in all, he’s more relaxed. More himself.

You then find yourself standing in front of the churros stall from earlier, the warm scent tugging you closer. Without hesitation, you ask the lady behind the counter for another four churros—this time with extra sugar. You add two thank yous.

To fill the waiting, you pick up casual conversation with the woman, until she pauses mid-sentence, wrinkled hand coming to rest over her heart as her gaze flits between you and Jeongguk, her crinkled eyes lighting with a sudden fondness and a quiet, content smile finds its space on her chapped lips, “You two look perfect together.”

Jeongguk snorts, “Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you, auntie!” You chirp, and your grin is so wide it squeezes your eyes into crescents. You accept the first churro she hands over, biting into it and talking through it, “These are delicious. Is the recipe a secret or can you share it with me?”

The woman laughs, clearly flustered by your energy, and leans in with a conspiratorial expression, though she gives in pretty soon, “It is a secret, but… Oh, c’mon. A pretty lady like you deserves to know.”

You burst into chuckles, joined by auntie’s own rolling and carrying a contrasting warmth to the cold air. Jeongguk, for his part, stands slightly to the side, observing. You still cling to his arm, even as the vendor reaches over to gently smooth her fingers through your curls, complimenting the way they frame your face. You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation, but there’s a dimpled smile stretching on your cheeks that gives you away.

Before you leave, the lady points to Jeongguk, voice growing earnest, “You, handsome. I can see you’re a good guy, so you probably don’t need my advice. But treat her right, yes?”

Jeongguk stills for a second and stumbles over an awkward nod, managing to force a smile that has you stifling a laugh under your scarf. You tug him away with a cheerful wave to your new friend, promising her you’ll come visit again before Christmas.

Once you’re at a safe distance, he mutters, “Why did you not tell her that we’re not together?”

You tilt your head considering his question, “It’s not like she knows us. She looked like she adored you. I didn’t want to ruin that for her. Maybe seeing a young couple like us really means a lot to her.”

Jeongguk observes how the more you explain, the more you’re convincing yourself as much as him, eventually solidifying your reasoning as you nod, muttering some more under your breath. He scoffs, looking away to hide his lips twitching.

When he turns back he’s frowning, though it doesn’t quite match the way he lets you hook arms again, your pastel pink bag hanging from his shoulders. Still, he sulks as though the mere thought of your observation has him shivering, and not with the cold, “We’re not a couple.”

Jeongguk barely gets to let his unnecessarily petty comment out before you drag him with an unusual strength over to another stand, his voice not even touching your ears, “Oh, let’s go over there, Gguk!”

On the twenty-first day or December, you send him a picture of your tattoo.

You had been talking non-stop ever since your… date? Or was it just a hangout? Whatever it was, it’s been a week, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling at a fucking screen too many times a day for his linking. It’s irritating. Even brings his phone with him to the bathroom in case you text him. Not because he cares. No, it’s practical. What if you ever had an emergency and he was the only one who could help?

Most of the time it’s just you sending TikToks, but he clicks on the links with the same urgency he’d reply to a genuine plea for help. He doesn’t really want to think of the reason why.

Now, this picture—it catches Jeongguk off guard.

It doesn’t even look like it’s about the tattoo. Not really. It feels like an excuse, a flimsy pretext for you to show yourself to him. The tattoo—the one he himself inked—is there, yes. But it’s not at all the main focus of the photo that tightens his grip on his phone.

You’re wearing a thin, pink tank top with delicate lace trim, the straps barely clinging to your shoulders. Your fingers hook under the neckline, tugging it down just enough to expose the tattoo nestled between the soft curve of your breasts. The angle of the shot is deliberate, he can tell. Your back arches slightly off what he assumes is your bed, and your face is cropped out, save for your glossed lips, full and slightly parted, catching the dim light.

Jeongguk blinks, hard. Then again. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, the low light of his phone screen doing little to soften the image burning itself into his mind. His eyes dart upward, scanning his surroundings, just to make sure everything is in place. The shop is empty, the door is closed, the hum of quiet settles over the space.

Looking down, the picture still stares back at him paired with a single message.

Annoying [11:39 p.m.]: do you think it’s healed? idk about this stuff, need your help 🥺

He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what this is. He alternates between the photo and your words, jaw ticking and tightening more with the seconds flowing.

It’s almost cruel, the way you’re testing him like this. He tries to push the feeling down, to reject the buzz of heat pooling low in his stomach. You know him well enough to be aware that he won’t reply to something like this. A stupid, unnecessary message. The tattoo is healed—he told you that a week ago, clear as day. There’s no reason for you to ask again.

What’s the purpose of this?

He gets a distorted idea when he shifts uncomfortably in place, the dull ache tightening his pants almost unbearable now.

Jeongguk groans and locks his phone, tossing it onto the counter as if that will put an end to this. He tries to refocus on his tasks, the last ones before he clocks off. Cleaning needles, tossing used stencils.

But his heavy balls keep sending desperate, silent prayers to his brain, to please let them have this. Just this once.

It’s been a bad day. Two of his appointments canceled last minute, leaving him to sit around bored. The last client showed up drunk and wouldn’t stop trying to flirt with him. His coworkers were loud and distracting, and to top it all off, the heater broke, leaving the studio freezing cold.

It’s been such a bad day.

So, would there be any harm? It’s not like anyone will know. Not you, not his friends. He’s the only one that will. And he’s far more willing to live with this dirty secret rather than with his hard dick straining achingly in its confines.

Jeongguk abruptly snatches up his phone again, unlocking it to the same picture that caused him to brush the device aside just minutes ago. He lets out a shaky breath, thumb hovering over the screen. You won’t get no reply to him. But if you knew what he was up to right now, you would probably geek. Tease him, with your warm smile that digs dimples in your cheek, hopping on your toes to poke at his chest playfully, with those perfectly manicured hands of yours.

“Shit,” his free hand is already pushing the jeans down along with his boxers, and he drops his weight onto the nearest stool as he grips at the base of his thick cock, eyes devouring the image of you in the empty chat.

He doesn’t zoom in. That would feel too shameless. But he finds it oddly better like this. Is it weird that your text, so innocently worded, is turning him on? That the simple idea of you needing his help is enough to have his hips jerking?

What could you possibly need his help for? Fuck. The different ideas that pool his mind have him squeezing harder at his stinging tip.

Jeongguk focuses on your dainty hand, slim pointer finger snaking under the collar of your flimsy shirt to show yourself to him, and your small boobs spill from the sides with a delicious, soft swell. He hisses when he pictures that same hand working on him instead, his warm mouth stuffed with your stiff nipples, visible through the sheer material.

He can’t help the loud groan leaving his lips, wrist flickering up and down in a motion that feels sloppy way too soon, hips jutting up to fuck into his tight fist. Throwing his head back, he sees you even behind closed eyelids.

He pictures your delicate figure sprawled on his bed, long lashes batting up at him as you sheepishly hide with your cheek to your shoulder. Can clearly make out how you’d sit on his lap instead, unsteady breath fanning over his lips, using his long shaft to make yourself cum. The whole time, he sees the tattoo on your chest, the one that is forever on you, eternally a reminder of him.

When he lets his head topple forward again, his bright screen still stares at him, only because a new message pops up in the chat. He startles, and his cock throbs in his hand.

Annoying [11:52 p.m.]: oh, and i miss you.

“Oh, fuck,” the curse is strained through a loud whine, and only followed by more of his full moans filling the room. His brows knit as his hand moves rapidly, palm collecting the precum spreading embarrassingly fast on his tip and rolling it down his length.

He focuses on your parted lips, the soft curve of your breast, your hard nipples begging to be sucked and spit on. Your last text has flashes of your bug-like eyes staring up at him seizing his mind.

That’s what undoes him. He’s delirious as he lets out his every sound, freely, unchecked, not caring about how loud he is, whimpering as he gets closer to his climax. When he thinks of those eyes locking with his, kneeling before him, eager and willing to swallow his every drop, he cums. Hard.

Jeongguk pumps everything he can out of him, and it’s messy—spilling over his hand, staining his clothes, pooling on the floor. His chest heaves with the effort, and the sensation of abandon he feels is so pleasurable, energy drained but leaving him with a lightness that threatens to make his cock hard again.

Fuck. He can’t afford that happening if you’re not the one attending his needs. This won’t be enough, not until it’s you. He’s insatiable.

Jeongguk needs to hear your voice.

It’s an instinct, and he bends to it. He’s careful, making sure not to tap on the FaceTime option, because if you were to see him right now it’d be glaringly obvious.

When he looks to the side, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the long mirror, and he visibly grimaces at the way his cheeks are flushed, the pearls of sweat coating his forehead causing his bangs to stick uncomfortably to the skin.

Guilty doesn’t even begin to cover it.

With the phone to his ear beeping to eternity, he hesitates, contemplates ending the call before you can answer. But just then, you do.

“Jeongguk! Is everything okay?”

Your voice is familiarly soft, but there’s a trace of concern. Blinking, he brings the device closer again and gulps thickly when he can make out your panting breaths. He clears his throat and puts on his best nonchalant act, “Huh— Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know… You just never call. Or text first. This is weird. You sure you’re okay?”

Oh. Is that really what it is like?

Jeongguk never realized this was how he came across—so detached that a simple phone call feels out of character. Your naive honesty hits him square in the chest. God, he needs to get better at this. The irony stings: he just fucking jerked off to your picture and the simple thought of you, while you’re on the other side thinking he’s just a careless piece of shit who doesn’t even know how to call.

The long stretch of silence registers in his brain, and he coughs to buy time, “Yes, I’m sure. I— huh,” he thinks of stuff you usually ask to keep the conversation flowing. Not out of courtesy, but out of genuine interest, the curiosity that makes people want to open up. He’s still not used to that. Still finds it weird.

“How… How was your day?”

It must be equally weird for you because it takes you a longer beat to reply. In that quiet moment, he clenches his eyes shut and feels his jaw tick with shame. And embarrassment. And this icky feeling that makes him feel too mushy for his liking. Hell, what is he doing? He’s never been like this, he’s not supposed to be like this.

But you recover quickly, as you always do, and you smooth over the moment. Fix it all for him like you were born to be just that. Make him feel like he fits in ways that have him exhaling shakily.

Jeongguk senses a foreign drumming in his stomach, and it’s warm but odd, and he loves it but he doesn’t want to.

On the twenty-fifth day of December, cheekily under a mistletoe, Jeongguk realizes he wants you. There’s parts of him that probably knew way sooner. But the parts of him that didn’t, fighting tooth and nail to suppress the mere thought, are just now finally surrendering.

Jeongguk has always found you admirable, back in high school. You had this determination to you. Not only when it came to him. It shone particularly when you catered to others, always finding ways to help, to mend, to offer yourself with nothing less than a fully toothed smile.

But he’s also always thought you two were—and still are—too different to work. He can’t be what you want, let alone what you deserve: someone who can match your enthusiasm and unwavering smiles, your frustrating positivity; someone who sees the world the way you do. No black, no grey, no shades in between. Just bright, hopeful white. Blinding white.

It’s the white making him dizzy, shifting his perspective, having him believing the opposite of what he’s always known. Pushing to be a little more egoistical, deceiving himself that he’s right for you. Because he wants to be. He oh, so selfishly wants people to know he’s the one who finally gets to have you, the one gifted with such a light, unfairly deserving of all the love you carry into every room you walk into.

Just a few days ago, during another one of your increasingly frequent phone calls, you asked him what he was doing for Christmas. He could have lied, come up with something on the spot.

But with how you so easily, and always coax the truth out of him, he let it slip. He told you he’d be alone, words subtly heavy. But they didn’t have the chance to even drop their weight before you were already inviting him to your friend’s party, insisting that he would be the most welcome.

And he’s here, and he sits beside you, and every time you laugh you lean your weight over him, and the room vibrates with the energy you fill it with, and each one of your friends is so enamoured with you, and for reasons he can’t fully understand it fills him with a sense of pride that shouldn’t belong to him. But it does, and it comes with so many other feelings.

You don’t push him to talk. You never force him into the spotlight when he takes a step back, quietly observing, choosing to stay in the background. Because you read him like it’s in your nature to do so, your soul seems to intuitively melt with his, and it intertwines in such a tight knot that he feels it constrict his throat. He knows he’s still alive because his heart is beating, just a little faster with each time you flash your dimples at him.

“Dimples. What are you doing, hm?”

Now, he’s in front of you, a small smile on his lips as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to dangle the mistletoe over both your heads. You’re struggling just a little, your hand unable to reach high enough, and the fake plant awkwardly brushes his hair, the tickling sensation causing his nose to scrunch. You laugh.

Looking up at your swinging movements, you lose your balance for the slightest second. Jeongguk’s hands move instinctively, catching you promptly by the waist to steady your body. But even after that, he doesn’t shift, his warm palms stilling. And when you face him, he’s closer and his chest brushes against yours. From this proximity, he witnesses the Christmas lights painting a galaxy of their own in your orbs.

You beam, “What does it look like? We have to kiss now.”

Jeongguk stares in your expectant eyes, brows wiggling and all. The more his mouth keeps in a straight line, the more the wiggling slows. You eventually come down from your tiptoes, letting the mistletoe fall to the side, tilting your head.

He snorts, looking away briefly to hide an embarrassingly wide grin behind his hand. When he turns back to you, your pout is enough to have him scrambling to meet your gaze.

“On one condition, though.”

You chirp, “Yeah?”

He licks his teeth, reserving you with a smug look, “Admit that you were scared to get your tattoo.”

Your smile vanishes in an instant, your expression falling into mock offense. With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you turn on your heel, pretending to walk away from him. Pretending, only because you know he won’t let you. And you’re proven right when his fingers wrap around your arm, tugging you back with enough force to spin you into him. Suddenly, you’re pressed so close you can feel the heat radiating from him. Your chin nearly touches his chest as you glare up at him, narrowed eyes meeting the mischievous glint in his.

He bites a smile, lips twitching, “C’mon, princess. You wanted to act all tough and shit, but I could feel you shaking.”

Your scoff is loud and incredulous, “You’re such a bitch.”

He only shrugs, “You want my kiss, no?”

“Oh my god,” groaning, it’s your turn to face the side to hide a grin, “Are you always this cocky?”

His chin tilts upward slightly, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, “Say it.”

You whip back around to meet him with a seriousness he hardly ever sees on you, and you even clear your throat, channeling every ounce of the determination he knows you for, every drop of resolve that makes you you. “Yes. I was scared shitless, Jeongguk.”

Foreign excitement brims out of him, not before his eyes widen just a fraction, and his nose scrunches the more he leans closer to you, inches from you, swinging side to side with exaggerated mockery and a grin splitting his face, “See! I knew—hmph.”

There’s no other second to waste.

The condition has been met, and now all the requirements for you to claim what you were promised, your reward, are there. Even more when kissing him means catching him mid-taunt and silencing whatever teasing remark he had ready.

Your lips touch his in effortless ease, breaking the air as they press together. It’s tentative at first, almost uncertain as you feel Jeongguk remain still.

But it doesn’t take him longer to move, mouth molding against yours in a sickeningly sweet hug, tasting each other with quiet curiosity, taking your time to adjust and melt, instructing your bodies to imitate the dance.

Your arms lock around his neck, his stronger and tattooed ones circle your waist, and the way you click together feels so right, almost too perfect, so perfect it scares you. When you arch yourself further into him, even the non-existent space between you unbearable, he accompanies the motion with his wide palms gliding along your back, squeezing you into him, feeling the curve of your hips.

The soft whine that scratches your throat and vibrates against his lips betrays you, along with the useless effort to contain the intensity of what you’re feeling. The emotion disarms you, the sound gasping in your chest, but in Jeongguk’s arms it feels safe to let go.

On Christmas day, you crown a youthful fantasy, the kind you’ll look back to even when you’re older. Jeongguk feels like he’d be the right person to stand by you to do so.

When he reluctantly detaches from you, his face keeps at a safe distance that’d allow him to go back and taste you, not before resting his forehead on yours and whispering, “Merry Christmas.”

You giggle. “Merry Christmas, Gguk.”

[lunajay33]

My Princess

•🪽🦇💙•

Summary: You are Feyres sister and have always been shy but when everything happens and you and your sisters become Fae, you find yourself falling in love with the mysterious shadow brother

Pairing: Azriel x Feyres sister

Content: Sneaking around, fluff, smut, getting caught

•Masterlist•

I never thought much about how my life would turn out, living in a run down home with my three sisters and father gave me no hope for what could come, I thought I would die young of either illness or starvation, I always tried to help Feyre when I could just to help and get away from Nesta and Elain, they never liked me much, I am I second youngest and they liked to point out every flaw of mine

But then one day everything changed when we were kidnapped and thrown into a cauldron changing out forms, from human to far, Nesta took an immense amount of power, Elain could feel the future and me, well I haven’t shown anyone what I’ve discovered, I can morphe into the shadows, dissapear whenever I want, it came in hand when Nesta would get in one of her fits with who ever dared step up to her

But then one night as I was slipping into the shadows I met the most adorable little tendrils of shadow that seemed were alive, they were all over me swirling around with what I assumed was joy as they led me to Azriel, he was quiet like me and I found comfort in that silence but never had the never to approach him until the shadows brought me right into his room, as I’m in the shadow of his book shelf

Noticing him straighten up and peer around as his shadows spoke to him

“I know you’re here” my heart leapt, I shifted back into my fae solid form and stood before him nervously

“So you are gifted after all” he stood infront of me, shirtless showing his broad shoulders and ripped body

“Ummm yeah, please don’t tell the others”

“And why not?” I shrugged unsure of why I had to explain my reasonings only making him smirk

“You’re not like your sisters, you’re…….different”

“Different bad?”

“No different good, you’re intriguing and mysterious, you don’t put everyone out there”

•

From that day forward we kept our nightly meetings between eachother and it was sooooo easy, sneaking through the shadows right to his room, we started just talking and getting to know eachother but along the way I fell for him, how could I not he’s so beautiful inside and out and one night when all the others were busy getting drunk at a bar I felt my soul meld with his and his mine

That night we accepted the bond and we haven’t been able to stop, it’s been a week and our hunger for eachother hasn’t been quenched and it’s getting harder to hide this relationship

“Do you think we should tell the others?” I ask him as we catch our breathes, my head resting in his shoulder, his hand dragging up and down my back

“If that’s what you want my angel, but I can’t say sneaking around doesn’t make things more hot” he smirks as he grips my hip

“Maybe just a little longer” I giggle as I turn and straddle his legs laying forward on his chest

“Ready for more already?” His voice got deeper sending shivers down my spine

“Are you able to” I love to tease him knowing he has taken me multiple times in one night

“Please woman” he grabs my hips and grinds them up and down his hardening dick, I’ve heard about the girls talking about the comparison between wingspans but there is absolutely no way Rhys or Cassian could be bigger than my man, he nearly splits me apart

“I love you Azriel” I moan as he slowly stretches me out

“Not as much as I love you Angel, fuck you feel so good” at this angle he was just hitting every part just right it was impossible to keep quiet

“Oh god more I want more” I scream when he thrusts up into me faster and faster

“OH AZRIEL YES RIGHT THERE” I scream not even caring right now who here’s

“So good, mother above I’ll never get enough of you” right as I’m about to be in heaven the door bursts open and everyone in the group is standing there wide eyed and mouths hanging

“Ummmm what the hell is going on” Nesta shouts anger written all over her face

Azriel sits up and holds me closer covering my body

“Can we have a moment to get decent” he groans his shadows pushing the others out and slamming the door

“I’m nervous, did you see the way Nesta and Elain were looking at me?” He pulled out and helped put his shirt on me as he pulled on his own sweatpants

“Don’t worry it’ll be fine come on!” He took my hand and led me downstairs to where everyone was sat around in the living room

“Congrats brother!” Cassian congratulated Azriel patting him on the back

“How long has this been going on?” Feyre asks with a little smile as she sat next to Rhys

“Well we’ve been talking for a while at night but then last week our mating bond happened and we accepted immediately” I say holding his hand tighter

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rhys asked

“Obviously she knows she’s not good enough to be with him I mean look at her” Nesta laughed, I hung my head low before Azriel pulled me in at the waist

“Watch your mouth, don’t think I can’t destroy your life just because you’re the high ladies sister

“She’s not wrong” Elain whispered but we all heard

“That’s enough they had their reasons and it’s their relationship, Nesta and Elain you need to leave her alone I’ve had enough of you two always bashing on her just because you know she’s better than you, I’m happy for you sister” Feyre smiles

“You can go to the family cabin if you wish while still in your mating faze” Rhys adds looking happy for his brother the next instant in standing in the cabin Azriel holding me tight from behind

“You know they’re not right, your as pretty as the stars” he says placing kisses up my neck

“Thank you Az, now how about we get back to what we started”

“Don’t have to ask me twice”

[blubwrryslut]

blasphemy. eren y.

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑ preachers daughter! nsfw. lol, this is my first work so be nice ya’ll! i have a longer version of this story in the works it’s probably gonna be 10k+ works indulging in their backstory, but enjoy! merry christmas everyone! 𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑

“shit. shit. shit. c’mere.” calloused hands from years of work dig into your soft flesh, pinching, squeezing, tracing every curve and dip of your body. the rough texture of his hands contrasts sharply with your smooth skin, sending shivers down your spine. drool gathers pathetically around the corners of your pouted lips as you desperately grip his shoulders for some sort of solace, nails digging in and leaving crescent-shaped marks imprinting his skin. he takes your wide hips in his hands, guiding them in a slow, deliberate rhythm as you bounce on his dick, gasping with each movement against your velvety walls. the room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the rhythmic creaking of the wooden bed, and the soft, breathy moans escaping your mouth. it drives him fucking insane.

"kiss me, please—shit, i need you to kiss me." needy. that’s exactly what the man is but he doesn’t care. you’re like a fucking drug he can’t shake, you’re in his veins. you lean down, he kisses you once, then twice, it’s a disgusting kiss, spit dribbling from your chin as he cocks his head to the side deepening it. the feeling of your squelching pussy sliding across him is enough to make him utter those four stupid letters. “how ya think lil ol daddy would feel? seeing his perfect little girl like this all fucked out—god!” the thought alone has his eyes rolling into the back of his head, usually, you’d bite back but the way that his tip kisses your cervix each time you swivel your hips against his has your mind foggy.

your thighs ache, and eren’s holding your waist so tight that you're sure there will be bruises tomorrow. he thrusts up into you, his cock filling you over and over again. the way he moves you is sinful, his large frame underneath you as he fucks up into you like a toy. his fingers find their way to your swollen clit and you can barely hold yourself up. you're fucking putty in his hands, whimpering and mewling for more as you feel the knot in your stomach growing tighter. "oh my god, ren” you sob, he knows exactly what to do to get a rise out of you, his voice alone could make you cum.

"fuck, you're tight. c'mon, lemme see that pretty face." he grips your hair and pulls your head back, watching the expressions flit across your pretty features as he uses you, chasing his own high. "look at me. look at me, sweetheart.” you can't deny him, your eyes meeting his dark ones. he looks so pretty, his grown out mullet usually pulled to the back falling into his sweat ridden face, rosy cheeks, eyebrows scrunched together. “s-so handsome,” you whine. that’s enough to send him over the edge, cum spurting inside of you, leaking from your used hole. “ren!” you nearly scream as your orgasm rushes over you next, spasming in his arms as he whispers sweet nothings. eren yeager was nothing but trouble, and now you’d been sucked in. shit.

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

Neighbor!Matt x Brat!Reader - Plan B

Your white sheets drape loosely around Matt’s waist, daring to fall each time he pumps himself in and out of you at a steady pace, going so deep he teases your cervix each time. Low, raspy grunts escape his lips with every snap of his hips, one hand glued to your waistline, not letting you squirm out from his grip one bit while the other dangerously thumbs at your clit. “Ahh! — Matt,” you croak out, your eyes low from the little ball of pleasure building up in your stomach, “I can’t — Fuck!”

You hadn’t had a senseless hook up in months, you were too focused on work and isolating yourself, you had no time for distractions. You didn’t know how you got in this position – pinned underneath your obnoxiously rude and loud upstairs neighbor whom you’ve hated up until twenty minutes ago when he was forcing his tongue in your mouth and clawing at every article of clothing you had on. 

His blue orbs suck you in much like a heavy current. His bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he stares down at you with a gruff expression sewn deep into his face. He was so focused on making those sweet, sacred moans roll off the tip of your tongue, he almost failed to respond. Too busy fucking you into a mindless state, studying the way your face contorted in pleasure with each thrust. It was all due to him. His mouth gapes open as your eyes roll back, "all that — Mph! — shit you were talking," he manages to get out all while plowing into your sopping cunt, "now you can't — take it, huh?"

Wetness drips from your arousal at the sound of his voice, so deep and husky like he had been holding back his groans. Your wet pussy spits out squelching sounds adding to the mixture of your heavenly moans and Matt’s thighs slapping against yours as he rams himself in and out of you. The sex sounds are so satisfying, you both find yourselves leaning in, foreheads pressed together just to watch how his cock glides in and out of your wet cunt with such ease. You look up at Matt, his eyes already fixated on your face, “look at you," he coos before pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips, "y’almost there for me, sweet girl?”

That euphoric feeling you had been chasing the last twenty minutes finally reaches its boiling point, sending you over the edge and making your legs shake in an uncontrollable manner. A loud mewl erupts from your lungs and your body goes limp, collapsing onto the memory foam bed beneath you as you moan out, “oh my – god!” You cling onto the bedsheets for dear life, digging your nails deep as he fucks your thru your orgasm, his thumb still working tight circles around your small bundle of nerves.

“Fuckk — y’pussy squeezing me so tight,” he drags out, his eyes clenching shut as your walls convulse around his thick shaft, the feeling becoming too much for him to handle. Matt gives you one final thrust, burying his cock so deep, your entrance sits around the base of him as he spills his full load into you, his dick twitching with each spurt of cum he shoots out. As much as he’d love to stay buried as deep as he could be in the best pussy he’s ever had, the realization quickly sweeps over his mind. Not only did he have his bitchy downstairs neighbor that he couldn’t fucking stand under his complete control, cumming so hard on his cock she was shaking, but he just came in her. He fucking came in her.

Matt tries not to let the awkward silence take over the mood. Letting exhaustion take over his body, he collapses on top of you. Your heart thumps in your chest as he presses a light sloppy kiss to your collarbone, almost like it's an apology. “Fuck, sorry. I’ll uh –,” he breathes out, his nostrils flaring in an attempt to catch his breath, “I’ll insta cart plan b.”

Meanwhile, all you could think about was his cum dripping out of your pussy and onto the silky, freshly washed bed sheets below you. That asshole better buy you a plan b.

Introducing Neighbor!Matt x Brat!Reader

wc - 713

♡‧₊˚ New au incoming 🫣👀 ofc im still doing babydaddy!Chris, just miss writing about Matt 🥰 Let me know what you guys think?! Also want to say thank you @sweetshuga, @strnilolover & @chrislilcumslvt for their second opinions. This probably would've sat in my drafts forever if it wasn't for them lol

Posting the intro next!

Tags - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @sweetshuga @loveparqdise @emely9274 @frickin-bats @delusional-4-fake-people @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 @thepubeburgler @shadowthesim @immy08 @trevorsgodmother @watercolorskyy @courta13 @chrislilcumslvt @luvr4miya @strnilolover

© M00NL1GHTS1VT - please do noy copy my work

[bows4tyun]

SHORT TASTE -! ⸝⸝ 최수빈

⸝⸝ you and your sweet boyfriend go shopping together - it's supposed to be innocent, isn't it? he ends up getting a short taste of you (smut, mdni!)

[🍥] pairing ! - pervy boyfriend!soobin x afab!reader

warnings - soobin is a perv lol, dom!soobin, sub!reader, sex in the dressing room, breast worship, nipple sucking, big dick soobin, unprotected sex, size kink, praise kink, soobin calls reader bunny baby, good girl, and slut but literally only twice ⸝⸝

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lexi adds ! - yeah... I'm a "writer "now! I suddenly had all this motivation to start writing and reading all the great stories on here has made me finally do it! I still need a taglist so if anyone wants to be tagged in any of my future stories please lmk (srry if this story is a bit shitty!)

soobin had the great idea of going holiday shopping with you and of course, you agreed.

now here you were, walking around the mall, hands interlocked as you searched for a store to enter. when you found a promising clothing store that caught your eye, you signalled to soobin.

"should we go in there?" you said as you pointed a finger toward the direction of the store's entrance.

"you can do whatever you like, baby, as long as you find something you like I'll be here to pay for you." soobin replies with confidence and a warm smile on his face. he loved spoiling you, it was his favourite thing to do. He loved to gift you cute dresses and skirts whether it was christmas or not, being fond of how happy you were when the skirt fit just right.

soobin didn't just buy the skirts and clothes to make you happy, he bought it to make himself happy too. he liked walking behind you, seeing the small glimpse of your cute pink underwear peaking out from under. sometimes as you tried on your new gifted clothes, he'd sneak a picture or two, telling you to give him a cute little spin as he pulled his phone out.

you were so oblivious of it too, asking him if your underwear was peaking out just for him to lie as say "it's not, don't worry"

he was having his own fun with it while you had no clue of his perverted actions.

you'd be fast asleep beside him at night while he jerked himself off to the pictures the same day, trying to keep his breath steady and not wake you, little did you know what your naughty boyfriend was doing beside you!

with a soft nod, you lead soobin into the store. classic pop music off the radio is playing from the speakers as your eyes search for a cute top to match the skirt soobin had recently gotten you.

as you searched, soobin watched you with loving eyes, and small grin plastered across his face as he saw you grab a pretty top adorned with lace, holding it by the straps as you turned to meet your gaze with his.

"what do you think about this one, binnie? would it look cute?" you asked, holding the top in front of your chest for him to get the full view and vision.

soobin hums in agreement, smiling at how cute and small you looked holding the tiny top "it's cute, baby. do you want to try it on just to make sure?"

you let out a small "mhm" as you begin to walk toward the dressing rooms, soobin following not so far behind.

when you get to the dressing rooms, his hands rest on each of your hips as you're escorted to a room by an employee.

when the employee is out of sight, soobin sneaks into the dressing room with you as you giggled at him for trying to be so sneaky.

"binnie, that's not necessary~ they weren't going to say anything anyways." you smiled softly before getting on your tippy-toes to give him a soft peck on the lips "you can sit down and watch me change, i know you like doing that alot." you spoke jokingly but soobin knew it was the truth.

he sat down just as you had told him to and reminisced about how cute it was that you had to get on your tippy-toes just to kiss him. a faint pink hue spread across his cheeks without neither of you noticing and he watched you in admiration as you took off your current top.

his eyes scanned your body with such hunger, looking at your boobs that looked like they were going to spill out of your bra from how much of your cleavage was showing now. he felt as his mouth began to water, not wanting to make it obvious.

he looked at the way the top fit you like a glove, hugging onto your curves so perfectly. soobin was already starting to think of all the things he wanted to do to you right then and there. he didn't realize how long he was staring for until you startled him by speaking.

"does it look bad? you've been staring for a while now, binnie..." you fidget a bit with your hands as you see him break out of his daydream and process your question.

"huh? oh-! no bunny, it looks perfect." he spoke in a simple yet attractive tone as he stood up and walked up to you, his hands resting on your hips just as they had done before and his eyes glint with mischief. "it look so perfect that I could just fuck you right here, right now. would you like that, bunny? like having to keep quiet in order to not get caught?"

without much thinking or processing, you nod, feeling heat rush to your core. your panties dampen as you stare at the smirk on his face, his cute dimple visible.

"you know you always get what you want, bunny." soobin says bluntly as he already begins to unbutton and unzip his jeans, freeing his hard, thick, and long cock out of the confinement of his underwear.

you've seen his dick before but somehow you're still nervous yet excited whenever you see it.

"I've been waiting to fuck you in this cute skirt all day..." he strokes his long cock up and down getting it even harder than it already was before and he looks down at you with a smirk "you see this bunny? you see what you do to me? you have me like this all day, everyday. now won't you be a good girl and help me?" he smirks knowing what effect his words are having on you, watching the way your thighs clasp together to hide your wetness.

"t-touch me..." the words escape past your lips without you realizing it and you stand there, desperate as you plead for soobin to touch you where you need him the most.

"what do we say when we want something?" soobin asks, "we only get what we want when we ask nicely, you know this, baby. "

"please-! please touch me, binnie!" you exclaim in a pleading tone before soobin presses a finger to your lips.

"remember where we are, bunny. this is not the bedroom, this is a place where you have to keep quiet, okay? you're better than that." he explains to you, you tend to forget where you are whenever you're needy for him.

slowly but surely, one of his hands makes it way into your panties, his fingers playing faintly with your folds and picking up the slick of your wetness. "you're so wet and i haven't even touched you that much..."

soft and quiet whimpers escape your lips as your hand moves to stroke his cock, a low groan and gasp leaving from his mouth as his head falls back the slightest.

his free hand drags along your curves and slips past the bottom hem of the top and travelled up to your breasts, groping them with his hand as his breath began to grow heavy from your hand on his dick. "take your top off, baby. you don't want to get it ruined before I buy it, do you? "

you shake your head and move his hand away from his dick in order to remove your top, soobin lends you and hand and helps you pull it over your head. he went back to admiring your cleavage, groping your breasts with both hands now, groaning at how soft they felt.

"n-need you so bad binnie..." you whined out a bit louder than you anticipated which leaded to soobin gripping the nape of your neck.

"be quiet." he ordered as he picked you up and he tugged your panties to the side, aligning his cock to the rim of your hole. "will this shut you up? is this what you need?" he asked as if he were to be losing his patience.

"yes...!" you managed to choke out in a quieter voice.

"fucking slut of course it's what you need..." without warning, he slams into you, burying himself to the hilt inside of you as you attempt to not moan out loud from the intense stretch.

he covers your mouth, his hand big enough to cover the bottom half of your face as he fucks into you, balls slapping against your ass and making lewd noises echo throughout the room. his hand was being used to keep you quiet even when both of you guys knew it wasn't possible to keep your mouth shut when he was fucking you so good.

your legs wrap tightly around his waist as he fucks you at an even faster pace, his hips slapping back and forth, the scene straight from a porn video from how obscene it just so happened to look.

a muffled "hmph-!" was the only thing that was able to escape past your lips because of how much force soobin was using to keep your mouth covered.

"fuck look at your tits. so perfect just for me, hm?" his free hand groped your breasts again as he massages one with his hand and sucks on the other one, letting out a muffled gasp and moan from you.

he sucks on each nipple with care, the quite opposite of what he was doing with your hole. he was making sure he abused it to the fullest as his tip hit and reached all the right places.

the time he finally uncovered your mouth was when he was close. he moved his hands off of where ever he had them and gripped your hips tightly, going at an inhuman pace now.

tears swell in your eyes from the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through your body as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, feeling like your climax would hit at any given moment.

"i-i'm gonna cum binnie! binnie-!!" you whisper, your voice breathy from all your energy spent but soobin keeps his composure despite your announcement and keep going, admiring the way his big cock slips in and out of your small cunt.

and just like that, he cums, both of you do. it feels so heavenly when you're finally able to release all over his cock, a loud moan being the last sound you make before it's replaced by heavy panting.

"fucking slut take it..." soobin mumbles before his cum shoots inside of you, painting your gummy walls white as he lets out a groan from pleasure.

soobin smirks at you with such a sweet delight in his eyes, "you did so well didn't you, bunny? you were able to keep quiet, i knew you could do it." he speaks in such a proud tone of voice that you blush.

he pulls his softened cock out of your messy and sticky hole and puts it back into his pants without cleaning himself off. your panties fall back in place as soobin places you back on your now weak legs.

"you were such a good girl for me, baby" he smiles innocently as if he hadn't just ruined your hole. he glances at the top you were trying on and picks it off the small bench that he had been sitting on.

"get dressed and let's go pay for this top, okay?"

[llflorence]

Can I convince you to fall for me?

Sequel to Did you just -- kiss me? (Human AU, RatedE)

Inspired by this art by @gahellhimself-blog

“Oh, pshh!” Maggie says as she begins her second mimosa. The fine lines around her mouth have cracked as the face mask dries. “He’s not going to judge your sexual prowess on a little chipped tooth.”

Aziraphale glances around at the stylists. They’re all watching where he and Maggie sit, side by side in the massage chairs with their feet in roiling tubs of hot, soapy water. He just knows he’s being judged.

“It’s not so little anymore,” he complains, quiet enough so only they two can hear. “If you hadn’t talked me into eating that toffee —“

Maggie’s natural falsetto voice gets even higher as she lifts the bottom of Aziraphale’s flute toward his face. “Puh-lease. It’s hardly noticeable. It’s like the dimples on your ass, or the ski-jump nose.”

Aziraphale pushes her hand away and immediately takes offense. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

She laughs. The ladies in the chairs to their right look disapprovingly down long noses. “I only meant that it’s cute!”

Before Aziraphale can protest, Maggie downs the rest of her drink. She leans over, conspiratorially like. “It’s not like he’s going to know you can’t afford the dentist because you have no insurance and can barely make rent without help from your mother. Unless, of course, you tell him.”

Maggie is the nicest, kindest, most generous person Aziraphale knows, which is why she’s his best friend. Still, alcohol does tend to make her brutally honest.

She pats his hand and lifts the glass back to his mouth. If this wasn’t their annual pampering girls' day, he’d have refused. As it is, it’s New Year's Eve morning, and he’s way out of sorts. Maybe she has the right idea.

He finishes the mimosa in two gulps and forces himself to withstand the bittersweet fizzing in his nose and on his tongue. If he’d listened to Muriel and postponed this date until after the holidays, he wouldn’t be so miserable.

Well. He’d be less miserable.

Aziraphale lets Maggie pour him another glass from the chilled carafe in the cooler by her side. By the way things are going, he’s going to need it to make it through her advice for this evening.

“Now. You’ve already hired the Uber, right?” Her pretty, plump cheeks are quite pink.

“Yes,” he sighs. “But I can’t even pay for this spa treatment. I don’t know how I’m going to pay down the credit cards —“

“Think of it this way,” she interrupts, swirling her glass and staring off into the distance. The windows are dripping with condensation, obscuring the view of the street. “If you drive Ruby, you’ll be obligated to go take her home, won’t you? This way your handsome devil will have to drive you to his place.”

Aziraphale hasn’t told her about the text messages. He’s certain that Anthony has it in the stars to bring Aziraphale home. The man just doesn’t know what to expect.

(He thinks of Ruby where she’s parked on the street outside his apartment. Two-hundred-and-forty-thousand miles and the Subaru hasn’t failed him yet.)

“Yeah,” he grumps. “And when we get there and I drop my trousers, and all I have to offer is soft-serve ice cream —“

Maggie laughs again. A good-sized splash of orange juice and champagne spills on her sweater. “At our age, that’s the least of our worries!”

Aziraphale is pretty sure she’s never had to deal with a limp dick her entire life.

“This coming from a fifty-one-year-old lesbian whose pleasure button is on the outside .”

This time, the whole row of massage chair inhabitants turns to look at them, from both sides. Aziraphale quickly hides his face in his drink.

Maggie, however, doesn’t get the hint. Her volume is way past annoying, heading for indecent. “Maybe you fifty-one-and-a-half-year-old gays should try using your fingers. Or, better yet, your mouth .”

Mimosa sprays all over Aziraphale’s lap, soiling his clean pants and dribbling down his chin. At least he hasn’t choked this time.

Felicia, his stylist, brings him a towel. There’s a mischievous glint in her eye. “About ten minutes left on the timer. You two need anything?”

Maggie needs nothing, of course. “But Aziraphale is going to need his chest waxed. I’m paying.”

“Aziraphale most certainly does not need his chest waxed!” he says, horrified. Felicia shares a wink with Maggie, and he groans at their sudden partnership.

“Come on!” Maggie pleads. She swishes her feet in the bath and bats her long eyelashes. “Don’t you think you shouldn’t leave anything to chance? Second time around and all?”

His stylist’s eyebrows rise as she lifts and checks under his mud mask. “Got a date, have we?”

Aziraphale closes his eyes and wishes he were anywhere else.

“It’s so romantic,” Maggie coos, and he knows she’s about to tell the whole tale. He inhales deeply and beats her to it.

“A friend of mine and I reconnected after fifteen years. I’m attending as his guest at a New Year’s Eve party tonight.”

Felicia knows Aziraphale almost as well as Maggie, seeing as he subscribes to therapy via hair and skin care. She eyes him head to foot and runs her tongue along the inside of her mouth. “Keep the hairy chest,” she nods. “Run some of that conditioner I gave you last time through it. You’ll thank me. So will he.”

Aziraphale takes her advice as he stands in the shower under what can only be called a ‘stream.’ It’s more like a slow drizzle; he’s called the landlord three times about the clogged shower head. And the busted lightbulb inside the fridge. And the window that’s stuck open in the kitchen. It’s getting to the point where he’s just going to fix things himself. That is, if he knew how.

He waits as long as he can, until goosebumps form on his arms and he’s procrastinated enough. He’s about as clean as he can be, and he’s done everything possible to make himself presentable. Nothing he can do about the tooth, of course.

Aziraphale shaves and dresses and paces in the kitchen as he waits for his ride. The new cufflinks from Muriel look out of place with his not-so-new shirt and suit coat. But at least he’s not wearing something rented; he could never live with himself if he did that.

He smooths out his tie and glances at the phone lying on the kitchen counter. There have been no text messages all day from him. Aziraphale knows it’s because he’s busy. Today was the day Anthony was scheduled to finish up on that very personal business he mentioned last week. And that was none of Aziraphale’s business.

The phone lights up, vibrating as a call comes through. It’s Muriel, and he considers not answering it. They’re probably ringing with more advice. As if he’s not already horribly embarrassed about the whole thing.

“Hey, Dad,” they say, bright and cheery as usual. “Just calling to wish you good luck.”

Aziraphale tries to smile so that it will show up in his voice. “Thanks, Dear. It’s really going to be f –”

“If it’s like, really bad, remember you can call me and I’ll pick you up. Just like you always offered for me.”

It’s going to be a long, long night, he thinks.

The Uber driver sends him a text from the street, and Aziraphale says goodbye to his offspring. He collects his long wool coat, hat, and mittens, and almost forgets the scarf as he pulls the door shut. It gets stuck in the door as he climbs inside, but Aziraphale doesn’t realize it. He’s too busy trying to make his hands stop shaking long enough to send a text.

To Anthony J. Crowley.

On my way! 

It’s a short drive through the busy part of downtown. Traffic is horrendous, and Aziraphale watches the time as his ride is forced to slow down to allow revelers to cross the streets. At this rate, he’ll be fifteen to twenty minutes late. Not the first impression he wishes to make, especially if Anthony relates punctuality to sex.

Sex is all Aziraphale can think about. In a matter of days, he’s become obsessed. He worries about how he smells, how he’ll taste, whether he should eat or be eaten. It ramps him up so high that he can’t focus on everyday things, like remembering to turn the dryer on after throwing wet clothes in. Or bringing the garbage and the recycling out to the cans.

So when the car pulls up to a swanky hotel, all lit up like a Christmas tree, he’s adjusting his dick inside the new underwear he bought himself as a gift. He makes the mistake of feeling the tip for wetness, which, of course, is right there. And, god, he hopes it isn’t leaking through to make a dark spot on the front of his trousers.

He pays and thanks the driver, opening the door to find the end of his scarf coated with brown, sandy slush. It’s dripping like mad as he lifts it off the ground, as he tries to close the car door and not step in the salty, puddled mess next to the curb.

The night has already begun with a failure, as he slips on the sidewalk and loses his balance. He closes his eyes as he sees very clearly what is about to happen. He’s going to land on his ass and ruin his night.

But the fall doesn’t happen. Instead, he is rescued. He is rescued by a tall, dark, devastatingly handsome man dressed in a familiar Santa cap. Gold-brown eyes twinkle down at him, and Aziraphale feels his breath catch in his throat. 

“Oh!” he manages, shocked and thrilled and a hundred other emotions all at once. Anthony has both hands firmly under Aziraphale’s elbows. And he’s smiling.

He’s smiling.

“See,” he begins, voice six shades of seductive as he steadies Aziraphale on his feet. “I thought maybe I could eventually convince you to fall for me, but this is ridiculous.”

Read on AO3

[eroscomet]

Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours

Chapter three- Closer

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Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Warning: Explicit, Warning 18+ content, swearing, fingering (Tara receiving), kissing.

Word Count: 2.3k+

A/N: Hey, lovelies, needed to update this real bad. BEAR WITH ME YALL, this is my first like smut that I have basically officially put out there. I hope you guys enjoy it and honestly, I was very nervous to post this update but I have left you guys starved of this story for too long. Making this chapter was a rollercoaster of emotions for me, I did not know that writing smut could be so bashful or even sheepish, but it really was. Good news as well, Make it Right will have an update soon! Very nervous to put this chapter out there but it was going to happen sooner or later. By the way, for future reference, this will be a g!p reader. Just letting you guys know that. Thank you so much for all the support and this one's for you guys!

Proof read.

Minors DNI

╰┈➤ Series Masterlist

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Your head felt like it had been reeling since the moment that you and Tara were back in contact. You felt wrong for allowing her to get the better of you when she had been somewhat intoxicated. The guilt was practically eating at you because not only had you hooked up with her, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Throughout each of your classes, every time you tried to force yourself to focus on the teacher's words or even the work in front of you, all you could think about was that night.

Your mind was plagued by all that the shorter girl had become under your touch. It felt selfish to have done such a thing and still think of her this way afterwards. No matter how long you tried to shove every image of the girl that night, heat pooled in your lower stomach. It was undeniable. Yet, every time that you had been around the girl from then on, you felt the care for her far stronger than any lust. It was easy to create a fantasy of her but when it came down to it, face to face, all you could do was want to protect her and care for her any way that you could.

“You stare a lot.” Tara said with a hum, she hadn’t even been looking up. She was instead focused on the textbook in front of her, still she felt your eyes on her.

“Ah, sorry..” You replied bashfully as you let out a small breath. Part of you wondered if she had even remembered that night. Maybe she had been angry that when she woke up, you hadn’t been there.

The thing was that when you had woken up the next morning after that night, the more you stared at her peacefully sleeping face, the more guilty you felt for having let yourself lose control. You’d spent an hour that morning, wondering what you should do before having finally settled on leaving some water bottles on her nightstand as well as some pain-killers to take when she’d wake up to a headache she would be bound to have. You didn’t know whether she’d remember, so you left a simple note saying that you had taken care of her the previous night.

“I wasn’t saying that I was bothered by it,” Tara said as her eyes flicked up to where you were sitting in front of her.

“Oh..” Was all you could think to muster up in reply. Should you ask if she remembered? Should you wait until she brings it up? You didn’t want to be a dick and make her think that she was a simple hookup and that was all.

An awkward silence fell upon the both of you as the two of you continued to study. That was until the silence was broken by Tara.

“So…” She began as she scribbled some notes into her notebook, her eyes pried away from yours at all cost, “Do you remember-”

“Yes.” You replied, not even knowing if she was asking what you were thinking she was asking. Her eyebrow had momentarily shot up at the quick reply.

“You didn’t even let me finish.” She said with a light laugh, “Unless, something’s on your mind?”

“Uh,” Your throat suddenly felt dry as you tried to think of the right words to use, “What happened a couple of nights ago..?”

“Hm.”

Her reply seemed too dry. Maybe she didn’t want to talk about it? Maybe she was in fact angry at you for having left?

“What?”

“I just..thought you didn’t remember, that’s all.”

“Of course, I do.” Your reply felt pathetic to your own ears. It left you feeling as if you were desperate. Despite your inner thoughts, a small smile played on her lips.

A silence fell upon the both of you before you had spoken up again, “I’m sorry for leaving that morning. I didn’t know if you’d want to.. I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know if you’d want to remember what had happened.”

“I’ve always thought of you too sweet, that’s why I felt a bit suspicious of it.”

“I’m not the type to do that, I promise. I just thought it was more on your end… I was confused, you know? Confused if you think it's a one-time mistake.”

“Doesn’t have to be. I mean, I don’t think it was a mistake. I’m sort of…glad it was you.”

You felt your heart almost beat out of your chest at the revelation that you hadn’t thought about. It felt like what you had heard was a part of another restless dream where Tara felt the same way about you. For a moment, you were stuck in your thoughts as you contemplated whether or not this was a dream or a joke. That was until you felt your pencil being taken from your hand as you turned your head to look over at the girl, you were sure that now you had somehow died and been sent to heaven.

The look in her eyes, she was close enough for you to count every freckle that adorned her cheeks perfectly. The way her lips had slightly twitched as if she were about to speak but instead decided not to. The two of you spent a moment staring at each other, your face drawing impossibly closer to hers. The feeling of her breath mingling against your own, her eyes darted down at your lips allowed your mind to begin wandering places. Taking action to one of those many thoughts as you shut your eyes and leaned forward into a kiss.

After feeling Tara returning your kiss, you hummed into the kiss, leaning into the touch of her hand on your cheek. You felt weak, weaker than you ever had. It felt almost helpless the way that your mind couldn’t draw any other thought but the dark haired girl kissing you. Kissing you as if she wanted you just as badly as you wanted her. Your hands felt limp, futile to every attempt of moving them to not seem awkward. It felt as if Tara had been reading your mind because her hands had grabbed yours and guided them under her shirt.

“Wait-” You managed to mutter breathlessly as you pulled away from the kiss, “Are you sure about this?”

“Still as caring as ever. Gosh, yes, L/N, I’m sure.” Tara replied with a breathless laugh, slightly shaking her head. “Must you always be so good?”

A soft smile on your lips as you felt her own on yours once again before you could’ve replied to her words. You returned the now hungrier kiss.

“There’s nothing wrong with being good.” You had mumbled against her lips as you continued to kiss her.

She hadn’t replied this time, her hands simply guiding yours further up her shirt and to the curve of her clothed breast. Your fingers had toyed with the hem of her bra, a small whine came from her in response. Her hands moving away from yours and up your own shirt, feeling out the planes of your skin. Her fingers felt persistent, whereas your own took their time and were more gentle. Unaware of the girl’s growing impatience, your hand moved to the back of her bra, carefully unclasping it. 

It had now hung loosely to her skin under her shirt, you took this as your chance to gently allow your thumbs to focus on the buds of her nipples. Immediately receiving a reaction from the girl, a soft whimper against your lips that felt all too sweet. Your mind had temporarily fled to the thought that someone else had too been in this position. You felt your gut slightly twist before pushing away the thought and allowing yourself to at least enjoy this while you can. While she had graced you with the opportunity to do so.

Your nimble fingers were quick against her buds, her breathing becoming ragged. Her mouth felt hot and wet, a reflection of your own as the kiss came to an end. Her eyes were fluttered shut as she allowed soft sighs to escape her, enjoying your touch. You’d seen and felt her back arch slightly with twitches into your touch. Her own hands had paused under your shirt, seemingly had lost its focus and purpose she’d once had with the touch. Quickly, one of your hands had left from under her shirt, moving to your lips where your tongue darted out to wet them before returning it to her nipple.

Tara’s head slightly tipped back at the newfound sensation you’d given her, your other hand moving down her abdomen to the hem of her sweatpants. You knew better than to tease the girl but you couldn’t help yourself, your fingers gently pressing against her clit over the fabric. The soft gasp that left Tara’s lips and the expression on her face made you want to examine every expression and sound she’d offer you with every touch you gave her.

“Don’t tease. Please.” She had breathed out ever-so-softly. Who were you to go against what she wanted? You wanted nothing but to please the girl of your dreams.

You were quick as you had carelessly pushed aside her notebook and text book that was on her desk. Swiftly lifting the shorter girl onto the desk, she lifted her hips slightly, giving you access to pull her sweats down. Your eyes were trained on her as you disregarded her sweatpants onto her bed. One of your hands pushed apart her legs as the other pulled aside her panties, not caring to remove them. You could hear every sweet sigh and soft whimper that escaped her mouth at your every touch, and it drove you completely insane.

A finger swiped through her folds, feeling the wet mess that she had become. You felt a surge of pride and a want– no, a need to give Tara everything she wanted. You allowed two fingers to delve past her folds and into pussy, a soft groan leaving your own lips at the tightness. A guttural moan leaving her, you watched as her head tipped back against the wall. Your fingers were quick, pumping to her every moan and obvious need with the way her hips had begun to buck against your hand. Your thumb pressing circles into her clit as your fingers continue to pump, your other hand raising her shirt to focus on her breasts as well.

With another lick of your fingers, you toyed and played with the bud of her nipple. You wanted to give her all the pleasure you knew she was deserving of. Your lips finding hers as you pulled her into a kiss, muffling her kisses that she now let out into your mouth. With the quickened pace of your fingers from each hand, you took note that it was getting harder for the girl to keep up with the kiss. You pulled away and immediately began working on peppering kisses against her neck, trying and finding her sweet spot. Your teeth grazed her neck as your mouth began to suck on the sensitive part of her neck. 

You felt her back arching into you and her body buzzing and writhing with pleasure from your touch. Taking note of how Tara was getting closer by the way her moans and breath fell relentlessly from her lips.

“Close-” She managed to say, pairing with a broken moan which only pushed you to quicken your pace.

“Shit, shit, shit- I’m cumming!” Tara’s voice cried out as she shut her eyes tightly, her body uncontrollably shaking under your touch.

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 A few minutes later and the two of you were sitting together at her dining room table eating pizza which you had ordered Tara.

“A true gentlewoman.” She said with a hum before

taking a bite of her pizza.

“Aftercare is important.” You replied with a small shrug as you took a bite of your own pizza.

“So, you're saying that you’ll stay longer?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Is that even a question?”

“Maybe you're right. I'll stay then.”

After the two of you had finished eating, you made your way back over to her room. Now, your arms wrapped around the shorter girl who buried her face into your chest. All felt calm, a stark contrast of what had happened about an hour or two earlier. You felt yourself wanting to stay in this moment, in the safety of the bubble you two created in her room. Tara was slowly falling asleep, you took it upon yourself to further soothe the girl by rubbing her back gently and pressing gentle kisses to her forehead. 

“Thank you for this.” She mumbled softly against your chest, slightly muffled.

“You don’t have to thank me, Tar.”

“Tar. I always liked when you called me that.”

“I'll forever call you that if you want me to.”

“I’d like that.”

You itched to ask the girl what all of this meant. What your relationship was like now. Is it friends? More than that, friends with benefits? Maybe…it could be something more than that as well, lovers? You pushed down the thoughts and the itch to ask, wanting to not ruin this perfect bubble the two of you have created.

“Tell me something. Anything.” Tara murmured softly

“You're soft.” It was the first thing that came to mind and the first thing that fled your mouth. A small light laugh had escaped Tara’s lips.

“What’s funny?” You asked curiously.

“It’s just that… I'm not sure I've ever been called or described that way.”

“Glad to be the first, and it’s true.”

“You're sweet.” Her words made a soft smile creep onto your face.

“Look who’s talking.”

“Oh, you're just a flatterer.”

“Can we not flatter each other?”

“I suppose so.”

“Sleep, you're tired.” Your eyes scanned the girl’s face, she was obviously a bit drained. A hand came up to gently caress her face as the other one continued to rub her back. Which had lulled her further into a sleepy state, she only nodded at your words. For the entire time that you stayed at her apartment, you held her and whispered sweet nothings that you knew she couldn’t hear in her sleep, but whispered them anyway.

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A/N: I'M NERVOUS BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED. Again, thank you for all the support and also look around for Make it Right chapter three coming out as well. Bear with me and this, this is my first smut published. However, I had to get it out of the way for upcoming chapters. Thank you all so much for everything, bye lovelies!

[guilty-pleasures21]

Great cause I've been thinking about something for days-

Jason x Reader but-

Sometimes Jason can't get home in time. It's not that he wants to take so long, but all this mess of missions and patrols and all that crap always seems to get in his way.

Still, since he loves his girl so much, Jason doesn't mind calling her just to tell her he's coming as fast as he can and ask if she's all right.

He's just in love, guys, what can he do?

By the way, he also loves to say what he's going to do with his pretty girl when he gets home as well.

- 💚

Firstly, I would like to apologise for how long this has taken: I was not ignoring you, I was just finding it really difficult to come up with enough of a storyline to write a fic out of 😅.

Secondly, I know this deviates from what you asked for, but I do hope that you still like it 🥺. I just thought it would be really funny to write Jason being all shy and flustered for a change ☺️.

NEVERTHELESS! If I have disappointed you, please don’t hesitate to drop me another message and I will do my best at another attempt! I love you, babe 🥺.

The call

Warnings: an explicit phone call and an explicit description of a handjob (m receiving).

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     “Hood?” X asked, her sweet voice wafting out of his communication device and filling his ears. “Are you gonna be done soon?” 

     “Hmm?” Jason hummed distractedly, keeping an eye on Penguin’s goons as they moved in and out of one of his secret warehouses. “Yeah, ba-”

     His eyes grew wide as he caught himself quickly: no one else in the batfamily knew that he and his best friend had started dating a while ago and the two of them had wanted to put off dealing with the chaos that would ensue once they found out for as long as they possibly could. Jason slid his gaze over to Dick, nervously gauging his reaction, then he cleared his throat when his brother seemed to take no notice. “Yeah, Nightingale. Their new shipment should be reaching here in eleven minutes. We plan on moving in then.” 

     “Okay, sweetheart,” X replied, her voice taking on a mischievous tone that had Jason’s core heating up with nerves. “I can’t wait for you to get home, baby. I’m gonna have you all to myself for the next week, right, Jay?” 

     Jason swallowed hard and stole another quick glance at Dick. No reaction. Jason exhaled in relief and let out another little cough before responding to his wicked girlfriend. “Right. This should deal a substantial blow to their operations. The others can help stage attacks on their other warehouses in the meantime.” 

     “Oh, is that so?” X asked, rolling over onto her stomach and getting herself comfortable on Jason’s bed. She’d always stay over at his apartment whenever he had to stay late on a mission - she didn’t like the thought of him coming home to an empty house, especially if he’d had to be physically violent with someone. She’d known about his PTSD and used to stay over at his place even before they’d started dating, comforting him when he awoke from a nightmare or coaxing him out a panic attack in the middle of the night. He’d only ever let her be privy to such vulnerable sides of him and she’d told him honestly that that was why she’d started falling in love with him. “You gonna pass the buck on to the others so you can come home and take care of your lonely little girlfriend?” 

     Jason’s breath caught in his throat at the pout he could hear in her voice. Was she at his place? She probably was, but … was she on his sofa? Relaxing in front of the television as she teased him? Or … was she … somewhere more … intimate? In something more intimate? Jason ground his teeth together, wrestling between the need to keep himself focused on the mission before him and the sudden desire to find out exactly what his ‘lonely little girlfriend’ was doing in his apartment right then. “Of course I’m wearing all my gear, Nightingale. Got to make sure we’re properly covered up before we bust in there and start taking everyone out.” 

     X bit her lip at the subtle question hidden within his words: he wanted to know what she was wearing. 

     “‘Properly covered up’?” she repeated, kicking her legs in the air behind her. “Mmm, that sounds … like the opposite of what I am right now, Jay; lying here on your bed, all spread out on your soft sheets as they caress my bare skin.” Her boyfriend sucked in a breath over the comms and X’s stomach flipped as she pictured the expression he was probably wearing right then: thick brows furrowed in confusion as he figured out how to respond, beautiful green eyes glazed over as he imagined her lying naked on his bed, sharp jawline tensing with frustration as he forced himself to pay attention to his mission. Shit, he was hot. 

     X flipped over onto her back and moaned softly as the thought of her deliciously sexy boyfriend filled her mind. “Mmm, but you know how much I love seeing you all dressed up in your Red Hood outfit. Your tight little carbon fibre suit stretched so perfectly over all your delicious muscles. Mmm, you’re so hot, Jay! I wish you were here so I could just pounce on you and trace all your sexy muscles with my tongue …” 

     A soft gasp escaped his lips at her dirty words and Jason swore his heart stopped when Dick turned to raise an eyebrow at him in question. Jason shook his head slightly, reassuring him that everything was fine and thankfully, Dick returned his attention to the warehouse. “Nine minutes.” 

     “Oooh, is that a challenge, sweetheart?” X asked, delighting in the sudden hoarseness in his voice. He was always so smooth and sexy whenever they were alone, teasing and touching and tasting every inch of her body until she was breathless with lust, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of his hands on her bare skin. But now … “There’s a reason they call it ‘seven minutes in heaven’, darling. But … I’m feeling generous tonight knowing I’m going to have you all to myself for the next week, so … I’ll finish in five … if you let me top you tonight.” 

     He let out a choked gasp at the image her words conjured up in his mind: him lying helplessly on his bed while she rode him into his mattress, her soft hair brushing the curves of her full breasts, her pearly teeth sinking into her lower lip in ecstasy, her perfect body sliding up and down on his cock at exactly the pace she wanted to go at. And unfortunately for him, Dick did take notice this time. 

     “Hood? What’s wrong?” His voice was firm as he spoke, authoritative and confident, and Jason quickly waved him away so he wouldn’t start panicking. 

     “Just a hiccup,” he lied. “I’m fine. Truck should be arriving in eight minutes.” 

     “Is Dick there?” X asked, her tone alight with mischief at the revelation that the two of them were right next to each other while she was talking dirty to him. “Has he been there the whole time?!” 

     “Yes,” Jason replied softly, lowering his voice so Dick wouldn’t grow even more suspicious by his continued conversation with a member of their team not currently involved in the mission at hand. Shit. He should just hang up, shouldn’t he? End the call now before he reached a point where he couldn’t physically hide the evidence of what his best friend was doing to him right then. Shit. Think gross thoughts, Jason, he counselled himself, like … bugs! Cockroaches, especially! Ugh! Nasty little things with their hairy legs and their spindly antennae and ugh, he was going to be sick. But at least he wasn’t getting aroused anymore - though the brief respite didn’t seem like it would last long anyway. 

     “How naughty of you, sweetheart!” X laughed, oblivious to - or most likely ignoring - her supposed-to-be-secret boyfriend’s stressful predicament right then. “Letting your girlfriend talk dirty to you with your brother standing right next to you? Mmm, I didn’t know you could be so naughty, baby.” 

     Jason clenched his fists and focused his thoughts on his breathing, trying to keep it deep and steady so his body wouldn’t get excited and start redirecting his blood towards his core. But he must have been a glutton for punishment because he just couldn’t bring himself to end the call. 

     “And- Oh my god!” X exclaimed, a realisation suddenly taking over her thoughts. “He doesn’t even know! Your brother doesn’t even know that you started dating your best friend, baby! What’s he going to think, love?! What’s he going to think when he hears your best friend saying such naughty things to you? When he hears the innocent little Nightingale saying such dirty things to her best guy friend?

     “Do you think he’s going to think I’m just practising, baby?” X asked, getting more and more thrilled by the idea of Dick finding them out via such a compromising situation. She sat up on Jason’s bed, suddenly feeling extremely hot under her pyjamas, and tugged her shirt off, tossing it aside. “Do you think he’s going to think that I’m just practising having sex with you?! Letting you touch me and tease me and taste me just so I can get to know what it feels like?” 

     She let out a low chuckle at the thought and Jason shivered as the tantalising sound travelled teasingly down his spine. And, f*ck him, now he couldn’t get the thought of her naked body out of his mind! She was just so delicious, her plush breasts, her smooth skin, her slender neck, her pert ass, her- F*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f******ck! Cockroaches! Focus on the cockroaches! 

     “But how could anyone else ever do it for me after you, baby?” X pressed, slipping her bottoms off and crawling under the covers. “You’re so hot, Jay! With your long fingers and your rough skin and your hard muscles and argh! Oh God, Jay, your … How are you so good with your tongue?!” 

     Argh, f*ck. He could feel his pants tightening around his crotch at the sound of her shallow breaths - at the indication of her touching herself while she thought about him. But shit! Did she really find him so hot that just the thought of him was enough to get her off?! F*******ck! 

     “Hood?!” Jason startled as Dick bumped his shoulder suddenly, snatching him out of his reverie. “Hood, they’re at the intersection of Apple and Kyle.” 

     “Three minutes,” Jason recited, the words coming automatically as he glanced at the countdown in the corner of his screen. His eyes flickered over to the icon of his best friend’s face, her cute little smile pointed straight at him from the upper right corner of his screen, and he swallowed hard when it lit up as she began speaking again.

     “I’m … I’m coming, Jay!” she promised, her voice getting breathy and high-pitched as she approached her edge. “I’m gonna come for you, okay, baby? I’m … Just imagining … your long fingers inside of my p*ssy … your lips sucking my neck … your chest … Nngh! Bite me, Jay! Bite … Hngrh, shit! J-Jason! Jason! I love you, Jason! I … Oh God, you’re so hot! So … So deliciously hot, Jay … How the hell are you so frickin’ hot, Jason?! Mmm, shit.” 

     Jason panted heavily, feeling as if he’d just come down from his high as well, and studiously avoided Dick’s gaze. Thank f*cking god he had his full helmet on - he could feel the blush racing up the back of his neck and bolting across his cheeks, blatantly giving away all the naughty things his best friend had been murmuring in his ear as she’d come to the thought of him. F*******ck! He was … He was never picking up another call from her again when he was on a mission - she’d just have to ring up the watchtower if she needed any help next time. Jason reached for his watch, meaning to end the call as his countdown continued ticking down to the one minute mark now, but his girlfriend didn’t seem to be done with him just yet. 

     “Come back soon, okay, baby?” she pleaded, her tone relaxed now that she’d gotten some of the excitement out of her system. “It’s just not the same without you, Jay. I … I can’t make myself come the way you do!”

     Jason lowered his head and sighed, feeling himself about to f*cking cry with frustration at her desperate words. Could you even cry out of of f*cking desperation?! Shit, maybe she’d broken him or something. He was going to have to get back at her for it later. 

     “You just know me so well, baby,” X purred, that same wicked mischief inching its way back into her voice again. “Nobody knows me better than my best friend - nobody knows how to make me come better than my best friend does, Jay. After all, you’ve been getting so much practice, right, baby?” 

     “Shit,” Jason hissed, his defeated exhalation finally letting her know that he’d reached his limit with her. X giggled softly, but decided to ease up on him: he still had an important mission to go on, after all, and she wanted him safe and back in his bed as quickly as possible. 

     “I’ll see you later, baby. Love you, Jay!” 

     “Ngh,” Jason grunted, relieved to have control over his own thoughts again. “We’ll talk later.” He hung up the call, then glanced over at Dick, letting him know that he was ready to go. Dick nodded and pulled his escrima sticks out of their sheaths as he got into position. 

     “On my count. Ready? One, two, three!” 

     Jason tugged the collar of his shirt, already sick of the tight suit he’d been forced into for the gala Bruce was throwing that night. It was meant to be a fundraiser for some charity, but of course the rich socialites of Gotham just saw it as an opportunity to parade around their undeserving wealth. And try to land one of the billionaire Bruce Wayne’s eligible young sons if they had the chance. Jason sighed when Clara Yang’s keen gaze landed on him, picking him out as soon as she entered the hall; not that it was difficult to pick Jason out in any room given his towering height and intimidating physical build - an intimidating physical build that did not seem to deter the young heiress in the slightest. Shit. Where was his girlfriend when he needed her?!

     “Richard! Jason! How lovely to see the both of you again!” Clara greeted them cheerfully, stepping forward to place a light kiss on each of their cheeks. She tried to linger in Jason’s arms just a moment longer, but he stepped back as quickly - and obviously - as he could, firmly setting his boundaries. 

     “Nice to see you too, Clara,” Dick replied, always fitting so perfectly into the mould of Bruce Wayne’s perfect oldest son. “Have you tried the appetisers yet? We hired a Michelin star Italian chef to cater the event. He normally doesn’t do engagements outside of his restaurant but, well, who can say no to Bruce Wayne?” 

     Jason’s gut twisted with horror as Dick joined into Clara’s polite laughter. God, he thought he was going to be sick. He’d just never been able to get over the false pleasantries required of him at these events - no matter how nicely they dressed him up and smothered his personality. Clara looked to Jason expectantly, her eyes travelling appreciatively over his shoulders and chest, and Jason felt another wave of nausea pressing against his throat. 

     “I … It’s …” Dick glanced around the room as Jason fumbled his way through a response, searching desperately for some way to get his brother out of his current predicament. And thankfully, it was at that exact moment that X arrived. Dick gave a mental sigh of relief and quickly waved her over. 

     “X!” X looked up when she heard her name being called, then grinned when she saw Dick waving at her frantically. Her eyes flickered over to Jason and the young lady standing in front from him, her chestnut hair curled neatly and piled atp[ her head in an elaborate hairdo, and she chuckled when she saw the panicked expression scrawled across her best friend’s features - it looked like Clara had already begun her attack. 

     Jason turned to follow Dick’s gaze when he heard him yell for his best friend and his entire body relaxed when he found X’s dark eyes and easy smile already trained on him. He side-stepped Clara, intending on making a beeline straight for his life vest in the middle of this never-ending ocean of suffering, but he stopped short when he saw what she was wearing. 

     Her dress was off-the-shoulder, the burgundy-coloured velvet material delicately skimming the tops of her breasts before closing in around her luscious figure, hugging her beautiful curves so deliciously. A slit in one side of the dress exposed her leg to her mid-thigh, teasing him with a mouth-watering view of her tanned skin every time she took a step towards him. And she’d kept her hair down for the occasion, letting her natural dark brown curls drape elegantly over her delicate shoulders and frame her adorable little smile so perfectly. Jason opened his mouth to try greet her - to tell her how stunning she looked that night, her deep red dress highlighting all the parts of her that excited him every time his gaze landed on them - but he found himself unable to even make a sound. 

     Dick grinned when he saw the way his brother’s mouth kept opening and closing as his eyes roved over his best friend’s figure. Maybe tonight would finally be the night that they admitted their feelings to one another. Neither of them had ever mentioned anything about feeling more than friendship for the other person, but it was so obvious to anyone with eyes that they were deeply in love with one another - never mind that they both looked like they wanted to rip each other’s clothes off right then! Dick nudged Jason’s shoulder, silently encouraging him to speak up, but Jason continued to struggle with his words, so Dick stepped forward to initiate the conversation.

     “Thank god you’re here,” Dick joked, giving X a friendly pat on the back in greeting. “Between you and me, I think Jason was just about to puke all over Clara Yang’s two-thousand dollar pair of shoes!” 

     “Come now, Richard, you know how gauche it is to speak of money so blatantly,” X replied, matching his quiet tone so Clara wouldn’t hear. 

     Dick shook his head, the wide smile still stretched across his face, and took a step back from her. “I noticed that you and Jason are matching. Whose idea was that?” 

     “Obviously it was Jason’s,” X teased, sliding her hands nonchalantly up his chest. Jason sucked in a breath at the feeling, his body rapidly heating up at the way she touched him so intimately, right there in front of everyone, but X continued to focus her attention on Dick. “Didn’t you know about his secret love for fashion?” 

     “Well, if it’s a secret, then how am I supposed to know?” Dick countered quickly. X grinned at his words and finally lifted her gaze to Jason’s. He swallowed hard when he saw the way her eyes darkened when they landed on his and his hands instinctively came around her waist, holding her loosely against him.

     “X …” he began softly, his fingers cautiously inching their way along her waist. “You … You look …” She giggled softly and Jason swore his heart melted into a puddle at the sound. 

     “Thanks, Jay,” X whispered back, her voice just as gentle as his as she adjusted his bowtie and waistcoat. “You look really good too.” 

     A naughty smile took over her face as she slid her gaze over to Dick. Then she raised her voice so he’d be able to hear her next words. “Maybe even more handsome than Dick!” 

     “X!” Dick scoffed, clutching his chest in mock agony. “How could you say such a thing?!” X laughed, keeping her fingers curled around the lapels of Jason’s jacket so he could admire the slender length of her neck as her head fell back. Damn, she was beautiful. 

     “I’m kidding! I’m kidding,” X corrected quickly, trying to assuage his concerns. But she leaned closer to Jason’s chest, hiding her face behind his jacket so Dick almost missed the way her expression turned even more mischievous. “He’s definitely more handsome than you tonight, Dick.” 

     Dick let out another offended snort, but Jason barely heard it over the sound of his heart pounding in his chest at the proximity of X to him. How could she cling on to him so casually when they were in public? When anyone might glance over and see them holding each other like … like a couple? He dug his fingers into her sides as his body heated up with excitement at the thought: there was just something so satisfying about their relationship being so right that everyone else could see it even before they officially announced it out loud. And suddenly, he decided that he didn’t want to hide it anymore - he’d talk to X once they found some time to be alone and if she agreed, they’d tell his family about their relationship tonight. 

     X rubbed Jason’s chest gently as she turned to Clara, completely secure in the knowledge that he eyes for her and only her - even if she wasn’t some filthy rich, well-travelled, upper-class heiress who would never have to work for anything in her life. “Don’t you agree, Clara?” 

     Clara’s jaw tightened as her eyes followed the intimate movements of X’s fingers across Jason’s body. But she forced her lips into a tight smile, just like she’d probably been trained to do her entire life. “Why just tonight? I think Jason is always the most handsome man in the room.” 

     X almost choked on her saliva at Clara’s sugary-sweet tone. But that wasn’t even the worst reaction she could have had because poor Jason actually shuffled around in position, angling her towards Clara like she was some sort of shield that could protect him from her adamant flirtations! X swallowed down her laughter, trying to dredge up some sympathy for her boyfriend, but it was just too funny to think of the six-foot-two, built-like-a-brick-wall, not-afraid-to-kill-anyone-who-tried-to-hurt-a-child Red Hood cowering before the tiny, spoiled socialite.

     “I’m hungry,” Jason mumbled, tugging X in the direction of the buffet table on the opposite end of the room. “Let’s get some food, X.” 

     “Of course, Jay!” X agreed, flashing Clara a bright smile before running her fingers possessively through Jason’s hair. Clara clenched her fists and narrowed her eyes at her, but somehow still managed to keep that frightening smile plastered across her face. Maybe they should try recruiting her into being a vigilante too. 

     “You look beautiful, princess,” Jason finally worked up the nerve to tell her once they were alone. X smiled and rubbed his arm where she’d curled herself around him. 

     “Thanks, baby,” X replied, glowing so adorably at his praise. She really was so beautiful, so cute and pretty and all his to admire and adore. “I would kiss you, but …” She glanced around at the roomful of gossip-mongers surrounding them, then flashed him a guilty smile. Jason's stomach twisted with nerves as he remembered his decision to tell his family that night and he cleared his throat when they reached the buffet table. 

     “About that,” Jason began, his expression serious as he turned to X. She raised an eyebrow in question and Jason puffed out his chest as he straightened, trying to build up his confidence. “I was thinking-”

     “Jason Todd!” A vaguely familiar voice called from behind him. Jason turned around and for once, he grinned at who he found. 

     “Mrs Vasquez?!” he exclaimed, releasing his girlfriend for a brief moment to give the elderly woman a hug. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long!” 

     X’s chest warmed at the sight of the sweet smile on her boyfriend’s face - and the reciprocating grin the kind-looking old woman wore as she returned his hug. 

     “Indeed!” Mrs Vasquez agreed. “I thought you would have visited at least once after returning from your big fancy trip in Europe!” That was the lie Bruce had had his PR team spread through the public when Jason had returned from his grave. They’d kept his death under wraps when it had happened, knowing they wouldn’t be able to explain away the sudden death of a healthy fifteen-year-old boy under the care of the lonely billionaire Bruce Wayne, so no one had batted an eye when Jason had ‘returned from studying abroad in Europe’ after a few years. 

     “But I do hope you enjoyed yourself, at least,” Mrs Vasquez finished, waving away any excuses before Jason could come up with them. Jason flashed her a grateful smile and slid his arm back around X when he straightened.

     “It was … an experience,” he admitted ambiguously, exchanging a knowing look with X. “But I’m just glad to be home.” He squeezed his girlfriend into his side and breathed in the sweet and fruity scent of her shampoo as he rested his cheek on her head. Mrs Vasquez’s gaze flickered between them knowingly and she fixed Jason with an expectant look as she waited for an explanation. 

     “Oh! Uh, X, this is Mrs Vasquez,” Jason introduced her. “She used to slip me a packet of sweets every time Bruce dragged me to one of these things.” Mrs Vasquez grabbed Jason’s forearm to steady herself as she laughed at the memory. 

     “Oh! Poor Brucie was always so confused when you left the event even more energetic than when you entered!” she recalled, giving Jason a fond pat on the arm. Then she turned to X and held out a hand in greeting. “Lovely to meet you, dear.” 

     “It’s wonderful to meet you too, Mrs Vasquez,” X agreed. “I’ve never seen Jason smile at one of these things! Maybe I should keep a pack of sweets handy every time we go to one.” She turned to Jason with a naughty glint in her eye and his features relaxed even further when he met her gaze. 

     “Hmm, maybe next time you could bring a bit of home to Europe, Jason?” Mrs Vasquez suggested, a knowing look on her face as she glanced between Jason and X. “On a honeymoon, perhaps? I'm sure your beautiful girlfriend would love for you to bring her on a tour of Europe, isn't that right, dear?”

     Jason's heart stopped at the word ‘honeymoon’. He'd just never thought that far ahead - it was a little hard to make plans for the future when you felt like you had Death chasing at your heels every day. He glanced over at X, terrified to see her reaction … but her features were lit up with a rosy glow, her lips stretched into a happy smile.

     “That would be lovely, Jason,” X agreed, tilting her head back to smile up at him. Then she leaned forward to exchange a conspiratorial look with Mrs Vasquez. “Though I'm not sure we'd be doing much sightseeing if we were to go there on our honeymoon.”

     The old woman burst into laughter and gave X a chiding tap on the arm. Then she turned to wag her finger at Jason. “I like her. I'll be waiting for my wedding invitation soon!” 

     Jason smiled dazedly, barely hearing anything after X's words. He didn't know whether his heart was pounding in his chest with nerves … or fluttering happily with excitement. Had she thought about marriage? Did she want them to be married someday? Living in their own little house with their own little kids … Jason gulped, then startled when he felt his girlfriend's fingers on his cheek, tugging his face towards hers. 

     “Jay?” she asked softly, letting her hand fall back to his chest. “Do you want to go somewhere private?” 

     Jason swallowed hard at the naughty look on her face - at the feeling of her fingers tickling him teasingly through his shirt - and nodded. X didn't hesitate before turning around and pulling him through the crowd, weaving in and out of disinterested guests as she led him away from the hall. Finally, she reached the door to Bruce's in-home gym and pushed Jason inside before closing it behind her. 

     “X!” Jason exclaimed, stumbling along behind her as she dragged him to a corner of the room. “What are you- Oof!” He let out a soft grunt as she pulled him against her, trapping herself between him and the wall. X slid her gaze over to the door, a devious smile on her lips, then she stretched onto her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

     “Who's gonna visit the gym during a gala?” she pointed out, sliding her fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair. Her nails tickled his scalp gently and Jason found himself suddenly incapable of forming any rational thoughts. 

     She smirked when she saw his eyelids flutter shut as she ran her fingers through his hair. Then she let her gaze travel down his neck to his broad shoulders, his muscles accentuated so nicely by his form-fitting suit. The Wayne's would always invite her to any gala they went to - not least because her presence kept Jason calm and relaxed - and though she knew Jason hated events like this, she loved getting to dress up in all the beautiful outfits Bruce would get for her on Jason's behalf. She didn't come from a rich family and Jason wasn't one to flaunt the money Bruce would deposit in his bank account every month, so Bruce would always just tell her to send him the bill for whatever she'd rent for one of the fancy events they'd invite her to. He'd told her she could just buy the outfits, but she really had nothing else to wear them to besides the charity galas the rich and wealthy liked to throw. X let her fingers drift down to the lapels of Jason's jacket, the black lining contrasting so perfectly with the deep-red fabric that was ironically reminiscent of his Red Hood costume. And besides, why would she ever pass up on the opportunity to see her boyfriend - her best friend and the love of her life - so handsomely dressed up in his gorgeous suits?! 

     Jason swallowed hard at the way his girlfriend's eyes darkened as they travelled over his body. He'd never known how naughty she could be until they started dating - sneaking into his warehouse in her tight little vigilante costume to tease him with her curves, pulling him into an inconspicuous alcove to have a quick makeout session with him when they were supposed to be on patrol, and, shit, that call the other night? God, he was going to lose his mind if they had to keep sneaking around like this for any longer. 

     “X,” Jason murmured, his breath grazing her lips as he bent over her. His girlfriend shivered in his arms at the gravelly sound of his voice and Jason sucked in a breath as his core tightened with excitement. 

     God, she loved how soft and gentle he always was with her, his low voice, his tender touch, that boyish smile that would always take over his rugged features when they played with each other in bed. Shit, she loved him. She stretched up and closed the distance between them, letting out a soft moan when their lips touched. Jason smiled against her lips and X clung onto his neck again as her knees went weak at the feeling. 

     He wrapped one arm all the way around her, keeping her upright against him as he leaned his other hand on the wall. Shit, her dress was soft. He was going to take his time peeling it off her later, carefully exposing each inch of her smooth skin to him inch by precious inch. Jason lowered his mouth to her neck and let his hand fall down to the slit of her dress as he began pressing lingering kisses to her skin. His girlfriend let out a choked gasp as he dug his fingers into the bare skin of her thigh, and Jason felt his stomach flip at the sound. He'd always known that she loved him - she took such good care of him, after all, consistently planning her days to incorporate him into her daily schedule - but shit, he'd never known how much his best friend could have wanted him as well. Wanted his baggage, the trauma that had ingrained itself into his personality, the scars, the pain, the anger, all of it - she didn't just love all of him; she wanted it all as well. 

     She hooked her leg around his waist and pulled him closer to her, losing herself in the dizzying feeling of him all around her. Jason slid his hand higher up her thigh, his fingers sneaking beneath the hem of her dress, and X held her breath as he neared her centre. 

     “Jay!” she gasped when his thumb snuck beneath the waistband of her underwear, kneading her pelvic joint so she began dripping with anticipation. Her boyfriend chuckled into the crook of her neck, knowing exactly what he was doing to her, and another shiver danced its way down X's spine. 

     “You're so naughty, princess,” he murmured against her skin, his lips travelling slowly across the bare expanse of her shoulder, “dragging me in here so no one can see.” 

     X  felt herself melt in his arms as her boyfriend licked his way back up her neck, his teeth gently grazing her skin before clamping down on her earlobe. “Or did you want someone to catch us? My naughty little nightingale?”

     A helpless whimper fell from her mouth as he curled his fingers around her ass and Jason let out a muttered curse as her hips bucked forward, desperately seeking her boyfriend's warm centre. 

     “J-Jay …” X whined, her eyes so round and beautiful as she gazed up at him pleadingly. Jason swallowed hard at the adoring look on her face and her lips immediately flicked up into a smirk. 

     “Maybe …” X began thoughtfully, running her hands down his chest and straightening to press her lips to the base of his throat. Jason held his breath as his entire body tightened in anticipation, the adrenaline and testosterone flooding his veins at the feeling of his girlfriend's fingers inching dangerously closer to the part of his body that wanted her the most. “Maybe I just wanted to help my boyfriend relax a little?”

     And now it was his turn to shiver at the way her warm breath grazed his neck as her lips moved against his skin teasingly. X snickered softly against his throat, then tilted her head and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the same spot. Jason closed his eyes, relaxing into the feeling of her gentle touches … but suddenly, his belt was unbuckled and his zip was undone and his girlfriend’s hand was in his pants, palming his length teasingly. “X …”

     She giggled softly at the undercurrent of warning in his voice and Jason cursed again before shifting them around slightly, shielding her from the view of anyone who decided to walk through the door at such an inopportune moment. X snickered at the way he didn’t stop her - at the way he just let her continue to arouse him right where anyone could find them! - and curled her fingers around his shaft to start tugging on him gently. “I know how stressed you get at these things, baby. Are you feeling more relaxed now?” 

     Jason let out a low groan in response, doubling over so his soft hair was grazing her forehead, and X grinned before cupping his cheek in her free hand to angle his mouth towards hers. Shit, he was a good kisser! He hadn’t been at first, a little eager and over excited to stick his tongue in her mouth and lick up the taste of her. But with a little patience - and a lot of practise 😉 - he’d become so good at it that just the feeling of his tongue running across her lips was enough to make her weak in the knees! X sighed softly as Jason kneaded her tongue with his, both his hands wandering across her body, leisurely making their way back down to her ass … 

     “Holy f*cking God!” X snatched her hand out of Jason’s pants when she heard Tim’s horrified voice echo through the room. “What the f*ck are the two of you doing?!” 

     Jason took a step back from his best friend and quickly tucked himself back into his underwear before zipping his pants back up. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest as he twisted his head back to catch a glimpse of Tim and Cass standing at the other end of the room, equal expressions of shock on their faces. “What … What the hell are you doing here?!” 

     X ignored the panicked thudding of her heart as she straightened her dress and plastered an innocent smile onto her face. She avoided Jason’s gaze as she stepped out from behind him, keeping her eyes trained on Tim and Cass instead. “We were just taking a break from the rest of the party. What are you guys doing here?” 

     Tim stared at the two of them in silence, his jaw hanging open with shock as his brain worked overtime to process what he’d just caught them in the middle of. He’d have to wash his eyes with bleach or something later tonight. And probably his brain too. And his ears, so he wouldn’t forever be haunted by the sound of X’s playful giggles and Jason’s low and teasing voice and ugh, he was going to be sick! 

     “Dick sent us to come find you,” Cass explained, confused by the scene in front of her. “He said he thought he’d seen the two of you come this way a while back ... X, why is Jason wearing the same lipstick as you?” She tilted her in question, still not catching on to what they’d been doing, and her eyes fell to the red lip-shaped stain at the base of Jason’s throat. 

     “And he got some on his neck … Oh!” She gasped, suddenly realising how all the lipstick marks had gotten on Jason’s body, and lowered her head as a blush crept up her cheeks. 

     “Guys? What’s-?” Dick stopped short as he entered the gym, utterly bewildered by the sight before him: Tim on his knees on the ground, a traumatised look on his face, and Cass shifting awkwardly in position as she looked everywhere but at Jason and X. “Uh, what’s going on?” 

     X and Jason exchanged embarrassed looks as they tried to figure out how to respond, but before either of them could say anything, Tim replied for them. “They were f*cking having sex in the gym! Oh God. Did you guys touch anything?! Oh God, are there bodily fluids everywhere?! F*ck! I’m gonna … I can’t step foot in here ever again!” 

     He pushed himself to his feet and wobbled to the door, genuinely looking like he was about to throw up any second. Dick raised an eyebrow in concern as he moved to let him pass, then he folded his arms across his chest and turned to Jason and X for an explanation. 

     “I … We … Um, that’s …” The two of them stuttered, stumbling over their words as they tried to come up with an answer. 

     “Are you guys together?” Dick suggested, trying to stop his lips from curling at the ends with joy. Jason and X clasped their hands behind their backs, both of them wearing equally guilty expressions as they avoided Dick’s gaze. 

     “Um, uh, yes, actually …” Jason confirmed, causing a rush of victory to shoot through Dick’s chest. 

     “Um, for, um, about two months? Maybe?” X elaborated, making the whole situation even better! How the hell had they managed to sneak around for two months without anyone else finding out! This was so, so good! 

     “Two months?!” Tim exclaimed, still hovering in the doorway. “Oh, shit. Please don’t tell me … You haven’t had sex anywhere else, have you?” 

     X squeezed her legs together as her body grew excited at the mention of everyone knowing how intimate she’d been with her best friend and she kept her gaze fixed on the ground so they wouldn’t see the furious blush filling up her cheeks.

     Jason stared at a corner of the ceiling and clenched his fists as he tried desperately to stop himself from snorting at the question: obviously, they’d had sex before - multiple times, in fact, both at her place and his. Thankfully though, his older brother intervened on Jason’s behalf before something completely inappropriate for the situation could slip out of his mouth. 

     “I seriously doubt this would be their first time, Tim,” Dick pointed out, his features curled into a knowing smirk. Tim gagged at the realisation that he was right, then he spun on his heel and raced out of the room, unable to take it any longer. Cass followed suit not longer after, flashing X a sheepish smile before she returned to the gala as well. Dick returned his attention to Jason and X, the three of them were left alone in the room now, and fixed them both with a smug grin. “Look, as happy as I am for the two of you, let’s try to keep it PG when there are other people around, okay?” 

     Jason rolled his eyes at his brother’s condescending tone, but didn’t look up, honestly a little embarrassed to have been caught with his girlfriend’s fingers curled so deliciously around his cock - but at least they wouldn’t have to keep their relationship a secret any longer. He turned to his girlfriend as she curled her body around his arm, her expression shy as she nodded in agreement to Dick’s suggestion, and Jason felt his stomach flip at the way she bit her lip nervously. Dick gestured to the door, not trusting the two of them to be left alone, and Jason escorted his girlfriend back into the gala. 

     “So,” X began softly, clearing his throat before sneaking a glance up at Jason. “Does this mean I can kiss you in front of Clara now?” 

     A snicker fell from Jason’s lips before he could catch it and X’s expression turned mischievous. Jason glanced around, trying to catch sight of her and quickly spotted her chatting Bruce’s ear off by a corner of the room. “I think her head might explode if you did that.” 

     X tugged on his arm, stopping him in his tracks, then cupped his cheek in her hand, turning him to face her. “All the more reason to do it!” 

     Jason slid his gaze over to the side, waiting until Clara had turned to them, her eyes alight with devilish glee, then he turned back to his girlfriend and touched his lips softly to hers. 

     “See?” X told him when a loud gasp sounded from across the room. “I told you these things weren’t so bad.” 

     Jason chuckled softly and pulled her into his chest for a hug, bending over again to press his lips to the top of her head. 

     “Only because you’re here,” he argued, too delighted to be wrapped up in his girlfriend’s arms in public to bother about who was watching them. X laughed and ran her fingers through his hair. 

     “I’ll always be here for you, Jay,” she reassured him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head before pulling back. “I love you, darling.” 

     “I love you too, sweetheart.”

[cliosunshine]

I was in a perumery the other day and I was looking over the men's perfumes out of curiosity and it got me thinking...what colognes do you guys think Dick, Jason and Bruce would wear?

I think that Bruce would 100% wear a very expensive and niche cologne made specifically for him by the finest parfmumiers in Paris and it would smell so intoxicating and alluring, like a mix of spices with something fresh added to them. Everybody already hangs on every word the billionare utters, but especially during the galas he hosts, you know Bruce Wayne is in the room when you catch a whiff of the sexiest fragrance that you've ever smelled: it screams money and power, and you can see men straightening their ties and women fixing their hair and makeup in their compact mirrors (I was thinking about something similar to Essential Ato Natura or Luna Rossa Ocean by Prada ughhh).

Dick wouldn't wear something too similar to Bruce, and it would also be a more accessible fragrance, so whenever he finishes his bottle he can go buy another at the nearest boutique. It has more freshness to it: it's probably a mix of citrus and musk/ woody notes that is not too overpowering and it has a subtle depth to it. It turns heads on the streets as people would associate this scent with a man who's confident and has a fun, ougoing personality. He's a prople pleaser and an extrovert, but he can also be an assertive when needed (Dylan Blue by Versace or Light Blue by Dolce&Gabbana anyone?), but I can also see him wearing the most fuck boy scents ever, like Sauvage by Dior or Bleu de Chanel. He's well aware that everybody wears them, but he can't help the smug smile on his face when yet another girl at the bar approaches him and compliments him for smelling so good.

Now, Jason's difficult. He would already smell very fainlty of gunpowder (and cigarette smoke if you headcanon him as a smoker) and leather. It doesn't matter how many showers he takes or how much he scrubs his skin raw, the scent still lingers on him. He definitely wouldn't like to wear soemthing too fresh or sweet or anything like that as it would probably give him a headache. He would want a scent that only him and his partner and someone that is directly in front of him could smell. He already hates being so big that it makes people double take, so he would never wear something with a lot of projection. I think he'd lean more on notes that he is familiar with and that bring him comfort and security, so he'd definitely wear something with a leathery smell to it, mixed with bonfire/ tobacco middle notes and underneath all that, maybe (and only maybe) a relatively discreet bourbon vanilla - not overtly sweet, but cozy and comforting. Like Jason Todd and Red Hood themselves, it would be a very polarizing scent: some would hate it, while others would chase it, greedy to catch another whiff of that masculine and deep fragrance that is uniquely him (Dark Rebel Rider by John Varvatos, By the Fireplace and/ or Jazz Club by Maison Margiela...maybe also Leather Oud by Dior?)

I just want to bury my face in the crook of their necks and sniff them pleaseeee please please please ughhhhhhh

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Hello, how are you? Can I ask, in which Jason finds a fissure and enters it without thinking and comes out straight into a sculpture shop, where Reader is the one who creates them (Reader creates a crush and sees Jason as a muse), but in Reader's universe it is an ancient time, even though it is in the same year as Jason's universe, (reader flirts awkwardly)? Anguished ending? And sorry for being long, I got very happy.

You Are My Muse

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 2.3 K summary: Jason finds his way to you (through accident) warnings: sassy jason, no y/n used, lore, fluff, reader's universe is the same as ours but without brainrot, angst a/n: (divider: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more) kind of fucked up the flirting part, but I still hope you enjoy....... (i'm so sorry this took so long)

»Why‘s my nose so big?«

»It‘s not!«

»Okay, so why do I feel insecure now?« It‘s the first thing Jason notices once he sees a head sculpture of himself, staring right back at it. His nose doesn‘t look that big, he just doesn‘t want to admit that this looks exactly like him.

And now that he got here, he can‘t escape. Maybe, walking through a mysterious fissure, in the middle of his walk, wasn‘t his best decision, but he believes he had worse. Now, he is stuck in some sort of art studio with countless of sculptures, sketches and your so-called 'drafts‘ sitting around.

You were surprised at first, scared even. Of course you would be, if your own creation — suddenly a breathing human-being — comes out of the shadow. Everyone else would be scared too. But now, after double checking that you aren‘t dreaming, you are talking to him and start to grow frustrated. You didn‘t think you created such confident, even cocky, person. Even if it doesn‘t come off as insulting, it starts to make you annoyed.

»Okay, how about you try to make one yourself? It takes a lot of time to master such art, let alone get the material for it.« He cocks his head, taking in the other creations around the big room; ignoring your challenge.

»Is that my brother— is that Dick?«

Jason gestures at one head sculpture not too far away from the both of you, making you turn your attention to it as well.

»Oh, yes. I also have your whole family here, but… as you see, I like creating you the most.« You become lightly flustered at the end. He doesn‘t notice, instead, he keeps staring at the creations.

»How‘d you manage to do that? How do you even know us?« This question makes you pause, but you quickly compose yourself.

»I… created you? I‘m your creator?« You answer back, being unsure yourself. But it makes sense that he is confused. So are you.

»What do you mean ‚created‘? What the hell is this?«

»My sculpture shop.«

»Yeah, but… okay, let me calm down for a minute.« Jason sits down at one of the stools and takes a deep breath, staring around your creations a little longer. It‘s definitely well-made and detailled, and his brain is finally starting to catch up.

»I can make you… a hot chocolate, if you‘re stressed.«

He glances back at you, snapping out of his thoughts and processes your offer. Jason shrugs, eventually leaving the decision up to you. You take his silent shrug as a yes and exit the room to make him something warm to drink.

Turns out, Jason loves hot chocolate. Although you‘re not sure if he was just thirsty or genuinely likes it, or was simply stress drinking. Either way, he complimented it before being seemingly more calm about the situation.

You settled him inside your apartment, living with him together from now on. It wasn‘t long until Jason finally notices the subtle differences in your universe. In here, there are no phones, no social media and most importantly, no electricity. Somehow, you still speak his language and even use those stupid slangs his younger brother Tim uses to annoy him.

»What do you mean you ‘don‘t know what gossip girls are‘? It‘s like...« my favourite show, he wants to say, but holds back, »The best piece of media!« Jason manages out, still bewildered that someone like you has no clue about such a show.

You simply shrug with your shoulders, keeping your confused gaze on him. He eventually gives up, waving it off with a huff.

»We have some catch up to do once we get back to my universe.«

Since you made him settle in the next room to yours, and have thin walls, you can hear about almost everything. The sheets rustles to the soft cries that are heard from his room after a nightmare. It doesn‘t seem like he wants to talk about it as well, after attempting to approach him about it one day. You respect his boundaries, that he doesn‘t want to share his vulnerable side, especially since you don‘t each other that well yet. Ironic, considering he is pratically your own creation among many others.

Sighing out, you exit your bedroom and make a sweet tea for the both of you.

Soft knocks are heard from the other side of his door, making him still in his bed. Jason wipes the silent tears off his cheeks, already irritated about the interruption. Nevertheless, he opens his door and blinks a few times at you.

There you stand, two mugs of tea that are steaming hot. The sweet scent reaches his nose, making him less annoyed.

»I told you not to bother.« He mumbles out, running a hand though his sweaty locks, but feels reluctant to close the door again.

»Still… at least let me make you less stressed,« you shrug, carefully saying your next words, »I can hear everything in my room anyway...«

Jason pauses before he nods and takes one of the hot mugs from you. You can make out the faintest smile on his face, deciding to ignore it and take a sip of your tea.

Nights like these evolved into laying next to each other in comfortable silence or sharing the story of his previous nightmare. It was one the things Jason cherished, while being stuck in this universe. He didn‘t go out as much in this universe, not daring to see any more of the differences between your universe and his.

He often enjoys his time at your art studio or even cooks something up in your kitchen out of boredom. Without any entertainment, he has to do something without his beloved phone and books. That‘s why he usually hangs out with your sculptures and sometimes even makes some small ones himself. You thought him an easy technique to sculpt small stuff and he has been trying to master it since then. There‘s already a wobbly symbol of his second persona – Red Hood. He even painted it the according colour and makes sure it stays next to his head sculpture.

You notice the big effort he puts into his small creations, smiling lightly to yourself whenever you spot another one of his silly works. While he mostly gets to bore himself all day, you work in your studio and go about your day, collecting more material and ideas. Often times than not, Jason simply watches you work, admiring the way you casually sculpt one of his brothers as if it‘s the most normal thing on earth. He still needs to get a grasp on the technique of it all, so far it‘s all magic to him.

»How do you do all that without any reference?« Jason wonders from his stool on the other side of the studio, head tilted to one side.

»I do have some… look.«

You shrug and step up to your work desk, fishing out a larger sketchbook and hand it to him. »It‘s all there.«

He grabs the sketchbook and sits back down on his spot, starting to flip through the pages. His eyes study the flawlessly drawn faces and poses of each person, recognising them right away.

There‘s Damian taking care of animals and training with his Katana, or Dick doing crazy acrobatics.

Each page reveals new poses and facial expressions, but what he notices is the sheer amount of his sketched faces. He doesn‘t speak up about it yet, continuing to look through them. The next page shows him, in a full body pose, revealing his scarred skin and muscles on full display. Jason clears his throat and shifts in his seat, taking in further details of it. The autopsy scar, clear as day, making him suddenly very self-conscious about it. After flipping to the next page, he is greeted with yet another naked portait of himself, this time striking a pose that emphasizes his muscles. Finally, he decides to get up and spook you.

»What‘s this? Just references?« He comes up behind you, his deep voice ringing just behind your ear. You glance behind your shoulder, spotting the sketches in his hands. Your face drops briefly before composing yourself, letting out a light chuckle.

»Oh, this? Yeah, just references. Nothing else, just… admiring your pretty body.« Now it‘s Jason‘s turn to be caught off guard for a second. His cheeks flush, but he stays composed.

»Yeah? Well, then… if it‘s just references of me and my pretty body...« He teases back, smirk playing on his lips as he steps off.

You try to think of how to flirt more with him, even if it means getting to say stupid stuff and teasing each other like idiots. So, you step off your current creation and disappear behind a curtain, where the bigger scluptures sit around. You carefully put one out into the studio, making sure not to accidentally trip and shatter it into pieces as you do.

The sculpture is Jason, body naked and striking the same pose as the last sketch. His muscles look tense and well defined, his scars looking more prominent in the light. Jason pauses and takes in the copy of himself, naked on full display and looking gorgeous. Even better than the real thing, he thinks.

You cross your arms proudly and take in his reaction, a smirk on your face as you present it to him.

Finally, he reacts and clears his throat, nodding in acknowledgement.

»No need to show off, nerd...« He mumbles out, clearly flustered over the statue.

A week went by and Jason grows frustrated over the fact that he can‘t seem to find a way back to his own home. He desperately tried to search for some fissure in your studio which he came through in the first place, but he couldn‘t find it. You can feel the frustrated energy in your whole apartment, being able to grasp onto it. Jason stands off the couch, walking into the kitchen to cook his mood away. You follow him shortly after, settling against the counter as you watch him prepare the ingredients.

You don‘t speak up yet, waiting for him to start cooking and figure out what he is making. Jason starts to cut up various vegetables, deciding to help him. You grab another cutting board for yourself and get the other paprike from him, starting to slice it up like he does. Jason stays silent as he works, focused on not being too rough on the vegetables and accidentally stab himself in the process.

Eventually, he lays his knife down and gets a pan from one of the shelves, knowing your kitchen like the back of his hand by now. He starts to throw the diced stuff into the pan, putting on the heat on the stove. You add the rest into it, silently following what he‘s doing.

Jason leans his hands on the edge of the counter, waiting for the pan to start heating up. A heavy sigh leaves him, watching how his lids close slowly.

»You know, I don‘t need your help.«

»But I want to.« You answer back with a light smile, hoping to ease the mood. Jason, however, doesn‘t seem to be affeceted much by it. Instead, he finally looks at you, eyes locking with yours. Your expression softens and you give him space, understanding that he is under stress.

Jason bites his inner cheek before he takes a step closer, wrapping you up in a hug; sighing out shakily against your shoulder. You didn‘t expect it but reciprocate the hug, gently caressing his back with your palm. He stays close, lightly swaying you both from side to side and tightens his hold around you.

Jason doesn‘t want to leave. At least not without you. But he won‘t say those words out loud, preffering to keep it to himself.

The vegetables in the pan start sizzling, making him let go of you and return back to cooking. You sigh out softly and stick by his side, continuing to watch him cook a meal for the both of you.

The evening stays cozy between the two of you, eating the warm meal before you settle into your respected rooms.

You shriek up at night, cold sweat running over your back. You jerk up again as you hear something shatter in the next room. Quickly, you scatter to your feet and exit your room, trying to find the cause for the loud sound. Outside, there‘s two white slits staring back at you, making you pause and stay still. Your first instinct is to call for Jason, find safety in his presence, but no words are coming out of your throat.

Luckily, you don‘t have to call him, as he walks out of his bedroom already. Jason also stops once he notices the dark figure in front of you and tenses briefly. Seems like he knows them, considering the way he takes a few steps forward and shields you from the darker figure.

»We have to go home, the portal only lasts for two more minutes.« The unfamiliar figure finally starts, urging Jason back to his ownuniverse. Jason relents, but knows he should follow him back.

»Give me a minute—«

»There‘s no time,« The other person presses, not understanding the reluctance of Jason. But Jason doesn‘t listen and turn to face you, trying to find his words. However, you understand and only stare back at him, already accepting the fate. Finally, Jason takes a deep breath and speaks up, quietly.

»I‘ll see you again, yeah?« With an uneven sigh, he takes a step back and follows his brother, watching how they both disappear into a bright slight out of air.

Panicking, you rush to Jason‘s previous room and hope what you just saw was a werid hallucination. Inside, you are greeted with nothing but his lit lamp light at the nightstand, and the silence of your empty apartment. Scoffing, you sit down at the bed, trying to get along the situation. On his nighstand stands a smaller, ceramic figure. A moon-shaped plate, coloured in a deep red.

a/n: this was so fun to write!! i really liked the idea, i hope i was able to execute it well, thanks for the request

←MASTERLIST

[4rlekino]

i'll touch that fire for you ' enjoji "jiji" jin

cws. 18+ NSFW MDNI. jiji x fem!reader. aged up characters. fingering. dick prep. size kink + size difference. praise. implied edging. squirting (like a bit?? some??). use of babe/baby, sweetheart, good girl. cocky to needy jiji pipeline. missionary. unprotected ptv sex. no aftercare/pillow talk i didn't write it. 1.7k words.

notes. SIGHS fuck um merry christmas. ty to the prettiest @shoyoist for beta reading <3

"yeah, baby?" he laughed softly. "you want me inside, hm?"

jin's grinning against your neck, thrusting his fingers into you at a steady pace. the feeling of your wetness, your whimpers, and the squelching sounds your cunt's been making was spurring that feeling in his lower stomach and coaxing him to moan with you.

he stops after a couple hard thrusts of his wrist, his thumb reaching up to rub circles to your clit instead. jin has his front pressed to your back, the both of you laid on your sides with his non-dominant arm wrapped underneath you, pinned between your side and the mattress with a hand squeezing at your breast.

he grinds up against you, cock still sheathed under his boxers while he tries to satiate the desire with a bit of friction. not that it helps, of course, but his resolve was solid. it surprised you, honestly. that for a guy like him, he wasn't as hasty as you thought.

when you pleadingly mewl out his name, a part of you was sure you were going to cum from the prep alone. the leg you kept raised in the air is trembling trying to keep itself up, but at least your hole was stretched out enough to accommodate two and a little more of jin's fingers with ease.

though, judging from the way he lets out a wry chuckle at your pleasurable struggle, it's not nearly enough.

"that's it, that's my girl. you're being so good for me." he sighs, exhaling through his nose as he's peppering kisses along the curve of your neck and shoulder, dragging his lips in between locations. "you doing okay?"

you nodded for him, still catching your breath from the moans he'd effortlessly pulled out of you. having been on the brink of orgasm twice from jin just fingering you was dizzying. you figured his arm, his fingers, his wrist, something must be cramping by now.

"jin, i think i can— mmf!" these were the first words you've managed to speak without slurring on your moans, but your boyfriend just thought it would've been so funny to slip a third finger in and cut you off.

he hums disapprovingly by your ear, now deliberately pumping all three digits to get his newly added ring finger coated. "need to get you prepped, sweetheart. i said three fingers. you can't take me if you're not ready for me, can't you?"

your leg was too tired to be kept up at this point, your knee now lowered to give your muscles some rest. it still gave jin access to your pussy, fingers continuing working into you at a building pace.

there was a slight burn to the added stretch, but with the previous prep, it was almost nothing. still, he made sure to be gentle. the last thing he wanted was to hurt you, but the first was wanting to see you writhe, to make your clamp around him just the way he liked.

"jin... please—"

"not yet," jin says, nearly breathless with his cock still rock-hard against your ass.

the sound of your wetness only made him want more, so he pumps his fingers slower. "you're so wet," he continued, pulling out and rubbing your slick all over your cunt before putting them back in.

he's still muttering husky praises and dirty musings into your ear, grinding his hips in an inconsistent rhythm against you. his cock's desperate for some decent friction, needing to be wrapped up in your wet walls the way his fingers were.

"i wanna put it in, baby. want you to tell me i can." his tone was convincingly whiny as he returned to his earlier bruising pace, wholly fixated on the sounds of your pussy to realize how close you were.

you were clenching around his digits, your hips even twitching as you unintentionally neared your climax.

"jin. jin, don't!" you pleaded, but of course, it was too late. you were gushing around him, suddenly feeling at a loss of control with your own body.

he looks over, trying his best to see you, but with his arm still pinned under your side, he was stuck in place. even so, he could feel the little spurts on his palm, thrusting his fingers into you harder.

under the orgasm's intensity, you trembled, helplessly moaning as jin helped you ride it out.

"good girl, keep going, m'kay?" he praised, his chest flush to your back and his non-dominant arm keeping you in place. "i know that felt so good for you. fuck, that was so hot."

when he pulls his fingers out of you, you take the time to catch your breath. it's clear you've never done that before, or at least it's never happened to you until now.

you couldn't express it, but thank god jin was still talking you through it post-release, kissing your skin and uttering some praises before he left your side to let you lay on your back. as your body was trying to catch up to you, he carefully parts your thighs and trails his lips up your stomach.

"sweetheart," he coaxed, his hands roaming up your sides as well. your voice shudders, still reeling while he speaks. "my pretty girl."

he'd taken off the last of his clothing at some point, his hips lined with yours.

"let me have you… please?" he can't suppress the need anymore, earnestly asking as he looks up at you from the valley of your chest.

he hovers over you, hands planted on either side with his lips slotting up against yours, kissing you slowly and peppering kisses from your cheek to the skin by your ear, still asking for permission, even going as far as saying your name in a honeyed tone.

"please, baby," he says. "i want you, wanna feel you so bad. you're gonna feel so good with my dick inside you, i know it."

the heat radiating off his body was intense. he's still kissing your skin, still pleading with you. getting you to squirt definitely did something to him now that the neediness and desire was suddenly surfacing tenfold.

when your mind clears, you finally respond with a turn of your head, letting him feverishly kiss you.

"i'll make you feel good," he mumbles into it. "i'll make you feel so good, baby, i swear. let me fuck you."

"please," you responded, not wanting all that prep to go to waste. "don't hold back."

he lands a chaste kiss to your lips and straightens his back. his hands, gentle and calloused, smooth up underneath your thighs and stop under the fold of your knees. his eyes were trained to where you connect, watching himself rut a couple experimental thrusts into you. the pace he sets is slow as he spreads your legs further, deliberately watching the way he disappears so easily inside you and savoring the ecstasy of it all.

he eased into you with a groan, sinking in until his pelvis was flush up against yours.

"shit," he hissed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips for a moment.

he prepped you well, and just like he thought, the first orgasm made your walls wrap around his length perfectly.

if he wasn't still grounded to reality with his hold on you, pulling out would've felt impossible. he shouldn't, but just thinking about emptying his load into you had jin subconsciously increasing his pace after he lowers himself, planting his hands to your sides once more.

when your nails dig into his back, he slows and takes brief pauses between thrusts, nearly pulling out just to slam back in.

a moan emits from you every time, punctuating each snap of his hips, feeling just how far he could reach. you try not to press your nails too deep, but you desperately needed something to hold onto.

either way, jin didn't seem to mind. he might've liked it.

"you're so perfect." he whispers, words he only wanted you to hear. "so perfect for me."

he lands one more deep thrust before stilling, his own breath shuddering from the pleasure before he moves back into a more consistent pace.

he brushes some strands that have stuck to your forehead, and he revels in the way you could barely keep your eyes open while soft, panting moans escaped your mouth.

with him hovering over you like this, it makes you realize just how big he is up close. how broad his frame was, how big his hands were next to your face. jin completely covered you, completely filled you, his thick shaft brushing up against your sweet spot and giving your hole a satisfying stretch with every pass.

"you have no idea… how good you feel… too good for me," he pants.

jin's eyes watched your expression with a cloudy sense of euphoria the louder you got. the needy moans of his name escaping your lips were like praise to him. your pussy walls even fluttered with each call, encouraging the deliberate thrusts to pick up into a more bruising pace.

your boyfriend was splitting you in the best way possible, and your body was letting him know. it was definitely an exaggeration, but you could feel it in your stomach. not the knot that tightened its way to your climax—the way he made you feel so goddamn full.

your brows drew together in a delicate scrunch, a faint crease in between as you peeked at him through your lashes, grounding your gaze to his in that same hazy euphoria. but just looking at you causes a wave of pleasure to cut through him.

his eyes nearly roll back and he has to grit his teeth and keep his mouth occupied against your neck when a moan bubbles up in his throat.

"i don't know if—" jin's eyes fluttered shut first, then his lips part, his open mouth huffing warm breaths to your neck. "—i don't think i can stop."

he was cutting it close, that feeling in his lower gut was only getting tighter and tighter. he nearly forgets to pull out after you finish. his hard thrusts were making the slap of your skins louder, the mess of tongue you both called a kiss, and all the moans you were swallowing for each other.

it was all so distracting, but you can both thank his stuttering rhythm and greedy reel of his hips for causing his dick to slip out at the right moment. jin finally stops when his member slides upwards between your folds, spurting ribbons of cum over your lower stomach.

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

THIS CAME TO ME IN MY DREAM... CAN YOU MAKE A STORY ABOUT THE READER BEING NANAMI'S LITTLE SISTER AND GOJO HAS A CRUSH ON HER OR SMTH IDK 🤭🤭🤭

A/N: Gojo art credits go to @tayatimiko

GOJO that jumps in his seat startled af, eyes wide as saucers behind his blind fold when come up from behind and cover em w/ both hands. "Baby, why haven't u called me back? It's so lonely in my mansion." You quote, a sensual whisper in his ear. He jumps to his feet, bumpin into his desk clumsily, offering a nervous chuckle at ur joke. "Hey, y/n.. Was just omw out. Sorry. I Gotta, um.. Uhh, u know-," Stutters some lame excuse and flees the classroom. Just like he does whenever u catch him alone after hours. "What the actual fuck?" 🤨 Fuckin guy's been actin strange lately. Like even for Satoru's weird ass. You've been tryin to get him alone to talk about but it's as if he can't stand to be in the same room with u. Refuses to look at u more than a few seconds and its drivin u too the damn brink.

GOJO that's always been like kin to u. But you're not fuckin blind, how could you not notice the skyscraper is sex onna stick? Soiled 💦 plenty of ur pretty panties just from lookin at his pretty face. But he swats away ur school girl crush without a thought. As Nanami's lil sis, Satoru insisted on treating u like a sibling. But ur older now. And what u don't know is.. He can't deny you've grown into a lovely young woman. Smart, compassionate, brave. And GAWD, don't even let him start thinkin bout that fuckin body..

GOJO is startin to feel like a super creep cause he can't stop his filthy mind from day dreaming albout you, no matter what he's doin. Ur soft curly mane, shape of ur beautiful y/e/c eyes, curve of ur cute nose. The softest plush full lips.. They'd def feel otherworldly wrapped around his- 👄👅🍆"Fuuuck, baby, don't stop.." Satoru groans, abruptly wakin himself up from the lusty dream starring u. Scrubs at his tired features and glances at the alarm clock. 12:37 am. "Dammit, ma.. Can't even sleep without u on my mind." Spends the rest the night tossin and turnin, tryin to erase the vision of u gaggin on his cock from his pervert brain.

GOJO no longer believes in relieving his stress if it isn't inside of u, basically becomes a born again virgin. Really thinks the amount of nut he's savin for u gave him hyperspermia and now every time he cums, it can literally fill buckets. Even worse he just start havin the most intense nocturnal emissions. Though his body feels like it's on cloud 9, it's startin to get aggravating, goin to sleep w/ u on his mind only to wake up to his dick dischargin like a automatic. "Shitshitshit! Nooo, not again." Satoru stares at his inflated cock swelling fatter in disbelief, energy burstin from him uncontrollably when he spasms, whimpering for u again and again as the temple starts to tremble, cracks tearing through the foundation. "Y/n, baby, fuuuck- I need u! Ohhplease, be mine.. Jus lemme feed that pussy this big fat load. Please honey, 's all for u, all for -nghh.. ah, ah, ah, can't stop! I can't stop cummin for u baby." The lastest dirty delusional demo 🍆🍩 of u cloggin his brain and he's so helpless, grippin the thick throbbing base of his shaft tight, trying to stop the overwhelming flow, gut compressin as the next spurt shoots even harder. An detrimental earthquake cracks through the surrounding streets but Satoru's too busy cryin and shakin. "Oh fuck, I can't take it! T-too good, too much.. haaah! 'M gonna die, pleeease! Stopstopstop- no! Wanna stuff u princess, such a waaaste.." Delrious ass sweatin bullets while his nut shoots high in the air, splatter audible when it rains back down all over his face and chest. But he just sloppily jerks at his dick, head saggingon his pillow as he attempts to wring himself dry, nut coating his slender knuckles in the yummiest glaze. "H-help me sweet girl- ohhh y/nnn.." Can't stop gaspin ur name, thrashin in his king size bed, the last of his ooey gooey nut cascading down his dick and balls as thunder crashes up above, lightning hailing across the sky like electric arrows before a random bolt slices through the adjoining building. Fuck.. Yaga's definitely gonna be pissed.

GOJO despises staying away from u and misses the fuck outta ur clingy ass. Craves how u used bake him his favorite sweet treats when he came over, yummy body bangin in ur sports bra and lil cotton shorts. Backing it up on him, reachin back to grip his neck, twerking all on him to the nastiest playlist. Or how u used to slide to his place unannounced, usually watchin as he laid on his tummy and rocked out on the ps5 in only a pair of black briefs. You'd always sit on his naked back, playin in his hair, massagin the weeks tension out his broad shoulders as he shouted obscenities at his teammates, only pausing to groan in satisfaction at ur talented fingers. Satoru can still feel the heated print of ur cushy tush 🍑 and chubby puss 🍪 molded to his spine. Had to will his away his nut countless times as he laid atop a fat boner, tryin to concentrate on the game and not moan like a whore when u squish ur front to his back and hug him tight. "Yay, good job Toru, u won!" Ur weight puttin the most delicious pressure on his dick. Feels so slutty rememberin how the smallest softest kiss to the back of neck had his eyes glazing over, teeth diggin into his bottom lip as nut pours from his flushed slit.

GOJO can't accept his crush on his good friends lil sis. Needs space from u since he can't pin ur feet behind ur ears and slurp ur cunt till he's full, so he decides to be a grade A dick. "Y/n, we need ta talk." Folds his long arms and shakes his head when u stomp ur foot and throw a hissy 😡 after he says u can't come on missions w/ him and Nanami anymore under pretenses that he just tryin to keep u safe. "Seriously Toru? U been ignorin me for how long? No reason, not a text or call. Now this shit?" Lean frame reclined against the schools entrance doors beside ur perplexed brother, kissable lips thinning dramatically. Pussy ofcourse is lookin anywhere but u. "'M not gettin into all that, y/n. Lets jus keep it professional since we're at work, yeah?" Nanami quirks a blonde brow, so sick and tired of the odd tension. "Gojo, it's fine. Y/n's got us. It's never been a problem before. We can-," ur brother tries to interject but Satoru huffs and storms off without another word. "Just stay this once. I'll talk to him." Ur bother squeezes u in a quick hug when ur eyes tear w/ frustration, kissing the top of ur head before jogging after the idiot.

GOJO feels bad when Nanami scolds him the next day about makin u cry. "U were an absolute terror yesterday. More than usual. I don't care why. U need to fix this Satoru. Whatever it takes." Satoru is exasperated af atp. Wholeheartedly doubts ur brother knows what he's saying. He can't even be in ur presence w/ out wondering what ur perfect tits would feel like in his mouth. 🤤 "Look.. We just need.. Space rn. Its nothin." Nanami slits his eyes, poppin Satoru in the back of the head. "I'm not an idiot, like u. Can't just ignore how she feels bout u.. How u feel about eachother." Satoru definitely engages his infinity, always expectin this convo w/ ur brother to be rather unpleasant. "How long have u known?" "How long have u loved her?" Satoru's stumped. So he's not as subtle as he believes? Shocker. 😮 "Longer than I care to admit rn. Kento.. It'll change everything." Nanami nods slow. "Just don't hurt her."

GOJO that's the one who ends up hurt when he arrives to the school for class but sees u trainin real up close and personal with the new instructor. The fucker 🖕🏽is all in ur grill, leanin his weight into u as he helps u "stretch". Feelin up ur thighs while pressin ur leg above ur head, his bulge pokin dangerously close to the center between ur legs. "How's that feel, sweetheart? Not too bad right?" Its a dagger to his heart 😭that ur all smiles and giggles. Satoru doesn't even realize he's shoved em off u, wailing on the guy over and over. "Fuckin bastard! Swear if u EVER fuckin touch what's mine again, I'll rip ur fuckin arms off!" Pummels him to a pulp and the fuckin loser is unconscious by the 2cnd punch but he doesnt stop. "Satoru, stop! Ur gonna kill him!" Which he wouldn't have realize if it weren't for u usin the cursed technique u share w/ Nanami, the precise hit blastin him back so hard Satoru has to dig his nail into the ground to catch his footing. U gaze at eachother in the longest stare down, tense af, chests heaving, both brewing with fiery burst of cursed energy. Thoughts racing a hundred miles per minute and Satoru just can't take this shit no more. Teleports inches away, yankin u to him w/ both hands on ur ass and smotherin u inna a hungry demanding kiss. But ur still pissed, pushin him back before slappin him across the face. "I should rip UR fuckin arms off for thinkin u could ghost me then slide thru to defend my honor!" Feelin a bit of justice as he rubs his pink cheek. "I know, I'm sorry y/n. I-," But u interrupt him with another hard smack. "Just.. Shut up, dummy. Dick first, talk later." You snarl, dragging him to his office by his uniform collar.

[imjustasugablob]

Feel Me Up pt. 2

trainer! leon x trainee! female! reader

part 1

tags: piv, penetration, teasing, spanking, dick riding, agegap(implied), slight degradation but reader is a smartass back

You lay in bed, staring at the dark outline of the dangling ceiling lamp. The soft snoring of your bunkmate acted as white noise, but you still couldn't sleep.

Did I really just try to hook up with Leon? And then walk away?

You could hardly believe what happened wasn't just a wet dream. Even in a dream you couldn't imagine walking away from that position. But when it came to Leon you acted almost on autopilot, making snarky remarks in response to his questions, trying your best to piss him off, just as he did to you.

You didn't really know why you did it. Maybe to show him that you weren't as weak as he thought. But tonight must have really proved that you could match him.

You got out of bed, grabbing a jacket and tying up your shoes. You realised your hands shook a little.

Fuck, there's no way I'm getting any sleep tonight.

Might as well take a walk.

You weren't going to find him, just going on a simple walk to ease your nerves.

Right?

Then why are my hands shaking?

As you made your way to the yard behind the dorm building, you came across the rooms reserved for senior officials of the government posted here. You didn't know how, but you did end up in front of Leon's private chambers, staring at the engraved nameplate fitted into the mahogany door. A faint light could be seen peeking from under the door, spilling out onto the hallway. You simply stood there, thinking back to the day you first met him, all the way to earlier tonight. How you'd always found him attractive, but it seemed simply improper to think those thoughts, so you buried them away.

Suddenly, you heard a click in the doorknob.

Shit, is he coming out?

You tried to hurry away but your shoes seemed to be welded to the floor beneath you. Like a deer in headlights, you froze in place as the door swung wide open.

Leon, seemingly surprised by your appearance, stood completely still at the threshold. Your eyes took a second to get used to the light coming from inside his room, but the first thing you noticed was that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

Oh, God.

It wasn't the first time you were seeing him like this. After all, it wasn't uncommon for the men you trained with to ditch their shirts halfway through practice, drenched in sweat. But it was different that time. It would have been weird to ogle at him as he explained to you the basics of striking technique, although some of the girls didn't seem to think that it was unprofessional to eyefuck him in broad daylight.

No, it wasn't like this.

Right now, he looked vulnerable. His hair was disheveled, bags drooping under his eyes. He straightened his slumped shoulders, blinking the strain out of his eyes, as if he thought you were a hallucination.

Everything about him looked softer now. Except for his eyes.

You couldn't tell what he was thinking, but looking into the cerulean depths, you could imagine it to be the violent sea crashing against the cliffside with enough force to cut through the ancient rock.

You cleared your throat, having lost all the earlier ferocity with which you had taken control over the older man. "Uhm. H-hey."

He didn't respond, but continued to take you in with his eyes. The tension still lingered, draped over you like a weighted blanket, making it hard to breathe correctly.

"You should go." Leon finally replied after what seemed like ages. His voice sounded gravelly, deeper. His tone was devoid of any emotion, not even a hint or acknowledgement towards what had happened between you two.

"Yeah, I was just- yeah. Okay.", you said as you turned away from his body, slowly yanking your eyes from him, with great difficulty.

You walked slowly, maybe a couple metres, before realising that he hadn't shut his door.

Why isn't he going back?

You paused, not knowing whether you should turn around or not. Was he waiting for you to?

In a split second, a thousand thoughts seemed to be rushing through your mind. Leon consumed all of them. The way his hand felt in yours, his calloused fingers leaving marks in the dip of your waist. How beautiful he was.

Was it even a question?

You slowly looked over your shoulder to find Leon leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, like he just knew that you were gonna go back to him.

Like his fucking lap dog.

However casual his pose was, his eyes gave away how he really felt, as they darkened on seeing the desire in your own.

In just two steps you crossed over to where he was, and he closed the gap between you instantly, pulling you into a deep kiss, your chest flush against his. It felt like you were continuing from right where you left off.

Leon pulled you into his cabin, shutting the door behind him and pinning you against the wall without breaking the kiss. His tongue flicked across your bottom lip, and you parted your lips as he began to explore the inside of your mouth.

"You're not going anywhere now, darling", he said as he reached behind you to lock the door. The word didn't feel endearing, but rather a taunt, inviting you to retaliate.

You dug your nails into his shoulders, causing him to groan into your mouth. "Don't get too cocky now, Kennedy."

A rookie referring to a senior agent like that was bold. Not bolder than having sex with your direct superior, though, you thought as you felt his boner pressing up against your thigh.

He chuckled softly. "Oh, you just have to run that pretty little mouth of yours, don't ya?"

"I think it's high time you stop taking it and show me how it makes you feel", you said.

You broke free from his arms and made your way to his bed. Taking off your shirt, and then your pants as you faced away from him, making sure to give him a great view of your ass.

You heard his low growl, which made the hair on your neck rise.

You felt him approach you from behind before he pushed you into the mattress, landing with your ass up, directly facing him. Before you could get a word out, a hard slap landed on your ass, stinging as he kneaded the soft flesh.

"How it makes me feel? It makes me wanna fuck that dirty mouth of yours till you can't say shit no more."

Another slap resounded in the room, making you moan out loud this time.

"Oh you like that, don't you? You want me to treat you like the little whore you are, hmm?"

You had never really been into degradation before.

I guess this is one way of finding out.

Leon pulled aside your panties as he ran his fingers over your slit, covered in arousal.

"Already so wet for me. You shouldn't have left earlier baby, I would have taken care of your little problem."

He slowly made his way to your clit, rubbing circles over the bundle of nerves, making you grasp at the sheets, desperate for release. God, you were so pent up.

"I need you...", you managed to croak out between laboured breaths.

"Then say it." Leon increased the speed of his fingers on your clitoris now, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. He slapped your sensitive bundle, not hard but enough to make you see stars.

"Leon, I need you inside me! I want your dick, please let me-" you choked up as your orgasm washed over you that very instant, making you writhe in pleasure as he brought you down from your high.

"That fast? Fucking hell." Leon felt the blood rush straight down as he looked at you completely fucked out from just his fingers. You could be as defiant and bratty as you wanted when it came to talk, but the way his fingers seemed to know every inch of you made you completely helpless in front of him, reduced to a blabbering, pleading mess.

Leon flipped over your body, climbing on top of you as he kissed you once more, now with a sense of impatience and desperation. Your little show had affected him much more than he was letting on, and he'd be damned if his dick wasn't inside you as soon as possible.

You tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, encouraging him to take them off. In the dim light, you could see him rummaging around for a condom in his bedside drawer before hearing the sound of ripping foil.

He positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his tip back and forth over your slit as his unintelligible murmurs against your ears sent you in a trance, repeating his name over and over like a mantra as he pushed inside. It was definitely a stretch, added to the fact that it had been long since you found yourself in bed with someone.

You gasped, overwhelmed by the sensation. You could feel the throbbing vein on his cock against your velvety walls, making your toes curl in pure, unadulterated pleasure. Leon pulled out completely, leaving you whining. He was teasing the hell out of you, which couldn't have been easy for him, either.

A wave of anger rose at this thought, how he would deny himself pleasure just to see you suffer. You suddenly sat up and climbed onto his lap, positioning his cock just right, and sank down on him all the way to the hilt.

Leon moaned out loud at the unexpected feeling. Your walls clenched around his length, like a prison he never wanted to leave. Grabbing his shoulders, you began rocking your hips up and down, not breaking eye contact.

"Fuck, baby, you're so good at this."

You might have blushed if it was coming from someone else. Who were you kidding, you would never have dared to act this ambitious had it been someone else. But Leon was different. You didn't have to think when it came to him. All you wanted was to make him feel good. To hear that sweet, sweet praise from his mouth, that he had denied you all those weeks at training.

Leon grabbed your hips and pulled them inwards, changing the angle and hitting your G spot. He began meeting your hips with his own, thrusting upwards, drilling even deeper into your pussy. You were on the verge again.

"Come on, baby, come for me. Come all over my dick," Leon said as his thrusts began to grow sloppier.

His dirty words did the job of sending you over the edge, the burning knot in your stomach coming undone at his request. He wasn't far behind, fucking you through your orgasm as he reached his own, whispering your name the whole while.

Your breathing slowly returned to normal as you continued to hold on to him, feeling him going soft inside you.

"God, that was good," you said.

"Training's in an hour, princess. There's still time for some extra lessons, don't you think?"

tw: LONG authors note rambling ahead

thank bloody HEAVENS this is over. I mulled over a completely written out story, decided it's trash, erased it all instead of writing a new draft and wrote something EVEN WORSE. I'm not satisfied by how this turned out at all, but honestly I had to rush it cause I'm going through some personal (DINO) crises. Also can y'all tell I've never had sex before 💀 I really wanted to include oral but I ran out of time and mental energy. I'll write it in some other fic and make it actually good this time. Thank you for reading my story nevertheless and a comment really means the world to me, i really appreciate all the love and support I got on the first part. I never thought I'd get a 100 likes on the first ever work i publish and I'm sorry for this one being a disappointment. I probably won't be writing again for a long time cause I have a really big paper due after the holidays but oh well I wrote the first part in an hour the DAY OF a big submission so we'll see. Thank you once again, and happy holidays!

xoxo

BLOB

[pureshoney]

"i think i'm sweet … i suck your dick like i need it to breathe. does it get any sweeter than that?" she points out with raised brows as if she's making the most obvious case in the world. as if that point itself doesn't prove just how much of a vixen she actually is. "i could be both things at once. i'm a brat, but i'm also sweet. like when i cook for you, and you don't even eat it because you're too busy fingering me, that's also really sweet," throws him a saccharine smile, enough to give him a cavity. "i mean … if you really want to, you could see my face when you're spanking me. we could do it in front of the mirror next time? but it's not semantics; you just don't want to admit that i made a good argument," hues roll backward teasingly. this whole punishment thing really was a benefit to her, but a detriment to keenan. because truthfully, she doesn't think that there's any disciplining that the male could dole out that her twisted mind wouldn't enjoy. "no, don't worry about it, baby. i'll make sure i make it your thirty-fifth birthday gift. i'll have them engrave my name in them so you always remember me," the thought of the male at work and grazing his fingers over his hip bones only to feel imprints on it that spelled out dylan was enough to make her laugh. "then i'll always be calling you a good boy," while words upfront had salacious they had a deeper meaning. keenan always made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world, allowed her to be true to herself without the judgement she experienced from everyone else in her life. "mhm … sir," head nods in sync with the way her hips rise and drop, sopping pussy clenching around his cock. "i love riding you," almost as much as the blonde loves him, but that's better kept to herself for now. eyes never leave his while she's dragging his hand toward her warmth, "i do, i want you to fucking ruin me. make me cry while i bounce on your dick," kittenish cry bubbles out of slender neck when talented fingers brush over her throbbing clit, swallowing around the growing lump in her throat as she feels digit pushing in alongside his cock. "o- oh my god," head lulls backward just before a loud cry rolls out. nails dig into the toned abdomen, continuing to bounce up and down on her mans cock once cunt is finished adjusting to the extra girth. "yeah? you wanna hear?" queries with a seductive giggle, hints of pleasure seeping through her voice. "first i start fucking myself with my toy," leaning back, femme raises her hands to instead rest them on his thighs wanting to give homme a better look at how pretty her cunt looks with both his dick and finger sheathed inside her. "and then i use my fingers … next i wanna practice getting b- both your dick and my toy inside," femme lessens her pace just slightly, wanting to get a real feel for just how good it feels to have him stretching her out, feel each inch and throbbing vein in his girth. "put another one, please … sir. i can take it."

she was partially right, around dylan he felt at ease, comfortable and unwilling to even think about what he did when they spent their time apart and when work wasn't calling him in. but it was a little more complex than just having an attitude, his temper was slow to bubble, something he'd achieved through working at a dive bar that got scum customers on a regular basis — but when it did reach a boiling point it was bloody and unforgiving, something he never showed dylan. "you are my bratty princess, don't know if i'd describe you as sweet . . . at least not all the time", homme remarks with a grin, "but you're the brattiest dyl, if you think for even a second that you're not it just means i haven't spanked you hard enough." maybe he should take that saintly dildo of hers and stuff it down her throat, a mild attempt at getting his girl to realise what a vixen she was. "besides, everyone has a switch and if they say they don't they either liars or priests", counters with a swift nod, if only she knew just how dangerous he became when that switch of his did get flipped — he would never harm a single hair on her head, he knew that much for certain, but if dylan found out just who he was it could hurt her in a completely different way. "that's semantics, plus i can't see your face wet with tears when you're bent over my lap now can i? it's fun spanking you and listening to you mess up, but if i really want to punish my little slut i'm gonna make sure i can see that beautiful face while it happens." normally after a spanking session keenan couldn't resist sinking himself into her drenched heat, probably negating the whole damn punishment. it wasn't his fault his girl was a little twisted when it came to pain and pleasure, he just leaned in to it. "wow okay i am very offended by that, hip replacements are expensive baby — do you think i should start saving now?" male jokes with a faux contemplative expression. "i'd break my hips just to see you open the door to me in that outfit again, princess. made me want to just eat you instead of the food." which he assumes had been the purpose, tempt him in to forgetting about her meticulously rolled out and shaped pasta and dough. "yeah? i feel like i'm due some praise every now and then, princess. so go ahead, call me a good boy when i've made you feel like the luckiest girl on earth." it was how she made him feel, after all. as if someone above them all had decided that keenan deserved one good thing in life, one pure source of happiness that made him believe that the world wasn't completely fucked up. "sir?" balls tighten at the little nickname, a whoosh of air leaving his lungs. "kinda like that, princess . . . almost as much as like you bouncing on my dick." the way her walls clamped around his slick length was torturous in how amazing it felt, how perfect her body looks riding him like it's all she'll ever want. tongue darts out to wet his lips, allowing her to guide his hand down to that damp cunt. "oh . . . damn princess, you wanna get stuffed like that?" it's overwhelming, how hot her pussy feels under his fingertips alongside the way she takes him so sweetly. "want me to ruin this pretty cunt, huh? stretch it out until you cry those pretty tears for me?" he's eager but refrains from acting swiftly, instead circling her clit lightly before delving down. beginning to push his index finger in alongside his cock keenan groans, digit brushing against his own length as her walls shudder around the extra girth. "fuckin' hell dyl, you've been practicing this? how? tell me."

[bows4tyun]

MINE - 최연준 ˎˊ˗ ⸝⸝

୨ৎ: ""mother fucker... " yeonjun snarled under his breath, trying to get a glance of the jackass who had the nerve to approach and even touch his girl. he felt his blood begin to boil, coursing through his body like wildfire. he normally was never like this. "

𓍼 pairing! - fratboy boyfriend!yeonjun x fem!reader

𓍼 warnings! meandom!yeonjun, whinysub!reader, ass smacking, big dick yeonjun, unprotected sex, breeding kink if you squint, slut shaming, groping, yeonjun referred as jjunie by reader, yeonjun calls reader baby, slut, and whore

𓍼 lexi adds! - I dont know how I've been able to finish TWO stories in the span of two days but ye enjoy frat boy yeonjun !! ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽ (i was too impatient to let the poll end) anyways merry christmas to anyone who celebrates!! hopefully you enjoy this gift

the party was supposed to be like any other, or at least that's what yeonjun thought it would be.

his parties were the most popular; everyone would be showing up, dressed to impress as the house was lit with bright shining colorful lights and loud music. good thing the music wasn't loud enough to wake the neighbours

yeonjun stood near the door, greeting guests one by one as they entered just as a good party host should do. maybe yeonjun's cool and funny yet approachable demeanour was the reason he became the most popular guy in college.

just because he was a fratboy didn't mean he was rude and distant like the rest. yeonjun was quite the opposite. thats the exact reason why you fell for him the same day you met him. it was only your first day in college, yet yeonjun talked to you as if he had known you for years, giving you a warm welcome as your upper classmate.

you definitely fell hard for him, but yeonjun fell even harder. he loved you so damn much, all of the small things you did reminded him why he fell for you. he just couldn't handle himself

whenever he threw these parties, he made sure your body was protected from any creeps who were trying to get a free show out of you. this time, it didnt really go as yeonjun wanted it to.

his eyes were looking around trying to find you amidst the crowd of people who were dancing inbetween the living and dining room. at the same time that he was searching, he was rejecting girls who tried flirting with him, giving them a quick "I have a girlfriend." after each of their attempts.

one girl in particular just wouldn't leave yeonjun alone, continuing to flirt and try to seduce him even after his polite rejects. yeonjun decided to stand up and go search for you but before he could walk toward the crowd, the girl stopped him, her hands running up and down his chest in a seductive manner.

"where are you going, jjun? stay with me, yeah? I promise you a good time~" she spoke, her voice full of lust and her eyes hinting desire.

yeonjun began to grow impatient his anger starting to get the best of him as he attempted to push her away lightly. oh but she wouldn't budge, staying put in her place and not wanting to leave yeonjun.

yeonjun chuckled nervously as the girl smirked with mischief. his eyes darted around the room, finally landing on you, and a guy...?

where his eyes playing with him? uncertain of what he was seeing, he blinked rapidly, trying to reset his vision.

he opened his eyes and looked again, the guy was still there yet this time, his hands were on you.

"mother fucker... " yeonjun snarled under his breath, trying to get a glance of the jackass who had the nerve to approach and even touch his girl. he felt his blood begin to boil, coursing through his body like wildfire. he normally was never like this.

that was when yeonjun lost it.

he pushed the girl aside a bit roughly, causing her to curse at him, but yeonjun didn't care. that's not what was on his mind at the moment. his only goal was to make sure you were safe.

he made his way through the crowd, finally finding himself infront the you and the guy.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing touching my girl as if she were yours?" yeonjun asked sternly before grabbing the guy by the shoulder and turning him to see his face.

the guy had the nerve to smirk at him, not caring to hear yeonjun's question. he kept his hand on your thigh which wasn't unnoticed by yeonjun. he looked at you, your eyes clearly showing discomfort.

that was all yeonjun needed. he grabbed you by your waist, catching you by surprise and you yelp. "jjunie!"

before you could say anything thing else, your lips were against his in a searing kiss, his tongue invading your mouth and dancing with yours. the guy could only watch in jealousy as yeonjun's hands dragged down along your hips and gripped your ass.

"whatever man, fuck you." the guy spoke for the last time before leaving the party completely.

yeonjun broke the kiss as you both pant to catch your breath. "that 'outta show that fucker."

"thank you, he was making me really uncomfortable... " you spoke warmly, pressing your head lovingly against his chest.

yeonjun signalled the dj for a microphone before speaking in a blunt tone, "party's over, go home."

the crowd awed in unison before obeying and grabbing their stuff to leave. you sit on the couch with yeonjun as you watch everyone leave. yeonjun's still hugging you with his arms wrapped around your shoulder, his grip tight. when a particular girl leaves she looks at you with a snarl. confused you turn to yeonjun who just kisses you in the same rough manner again.

after the party's officially over, yeonjun leads you to your shared bedroom, the room only really clean room in the whole house.

yeonjun sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "that fucker had me all worked up, what a piece of shit..." he huffs out, voice still hinting of anger. "baby, you would do anything to calm me down, right?"

"of course! why do you ask?" you questioned him innocently as you sat on the soft bed. he answered your question with a lustful glare in his eyes.

⸝⸝

"hmph-! jjunie, too fast! ah-!" you cried out pathetically, gripping onto the duvet sheets under you as yeonjun pounded into you mercilessly.

"shut up, slut." he spat out harshly before smacking your ass, causing you to yelp with tears soaking the bed. "all you do is whine and complain. I bet you liked it when he was touching you, didn't you?" he huffed while quickening his pace.

"you're going too fast oh god-!" just as you whimper and whine, you feel your head get yanked back by the hair, your scalp burning deliciously.

"what did I just say, whore? you don't ever tell me what to do. know your place shit-..." he groans and users your hair as a way to pound even faster than before. "take it! you know you can, slut. your hole was made for dick." he says this as you pussy clenches and gushes around his cock.

"jjunie! 'gonna cum fuckfuckfuck! please, let me cum!" you plead as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. his grip on your ass tightens too as he chases his high as well.

"fuck! that's it baby, cum on my cock like the good little whore you are! that fucker wishes this were him." just as you thought he couldn't go any faster, he does.

right as his pace increases you cum on his cock, moaning out his name in a high pitched manner. "jjunie!!"

yeonjun keeps going, you could hear him huff and groan softly behind you as he continues to fuck into your spent cunt.

"you want me to cum inside? want me to claim and mark you with my cum?" you're too fucked dumb on his cock to understand what he's implying and just agree.

"yesyesyes! jjunie please-! i need it!" you mewl and grip the sheets with all your might before you hear yeonjun curse behind you

"fuck-! take it, baby!" he groans out, plunging completely i side of you, shooting out his white sticky cum into your womb, getting the perfect angle. he leans toward you, his lips right at your ear "you wouldn't get mad if you get pregnant, right baby?"

you shake your head, feeling worn out, "not at all..." he kisses your shoulder and grips your chin to make you face him.

"good, that's what I like to hear..."

𓍼 taglist! - empty! (lmk if you want to be added for future works please and thank you!!)

[crimsonwolf715]

Anaphylactic Response

(Not me having to read four of @Moonlight1234’s fics {on Ao3} to properly portray Damian 😭. Don’t worry, I talked with them about it first. Eventually I’ll be able to do it without help, y’all. 🙏 Thanks to my beta reader for reading over everything. 🎉 Also as a random little note, happy birthday to Barbara Gordon! TW: Anaphylaxis and hospitals)

Damian comes downstairs to find Barbara and Dick talking in the entryway. 

“Is something happening today?” Damian asks. 

“No,” Dick answers. “Barbara’s just here to help me.” 

“Help you with what?” 

“Making cupcakes for the police station’s bake sale to help something. The hospital if I remember correctly,” Barbara answers as Dick nods. “Do you wanna help, Damian? I have to because your brother will burn the house down, but you’re free to join us if you want.” 

“I’ve baked with Alfred once or twice, so I guess I could be helpful,” Damian replies. “As long as you’re fine with it, I’d like to assist.” 

“Of course you can help,” Dick says, giving Damian a side hug. A gesture that Damian returns with a small smile. 

Barbara and Damian work on the cupcakes. While Dick originally tried to help, he was banished to sit on a bar stool at the counter because he almost put salt instead of sugar in the mix. So he fills the air with conversation about the upcoming gala. 

“That sounds super boring,” Barbara says. 

“They always are,” Damian replies. 

“We can always get ice cream after,” Dick offers. “It won’t make the event any better, but something to look forward to, right?” 

Damian thinks on the offer, then nods. 

“That’s the spirit,” Dick says, ruffling Damian’s hair as Damian walks past. 

Damian swats at Dick’s hand. “Stop that, Grayson. Cleanliness is important.” 

“Fine.” 

“Alright, time for you to put yourself to use, Dick. Get the first batch of cupcakes out of the oven and if you drop them, I will cut you,” Barbara says. 

Dick sighs and rolls his eyes, then gets the cupcakes out of the oven. 

“Beautiful,” Barbara says. “Thank you, tough guy.” 

She pats Dick’s shoulder, then rolls over to Damian. “You good?” 

“I don’t like the way this whisk’s handle makes my hand feel. It’s irritating,” Damian answers. “I’m done with it though so there’s no need to worry about it.” 

“I’m glad that you’re good. Your brother does not look fine.” 

Damian nods, then gives them a sly smile. “He has FOMO.” 

Barbara nods. Damian looks up in enough time to see Dick smiling at the two. Damian hands Barbara the batter and she pours them into the wrappers. 

“Alright, let’s get the second batch in and once they’re done, I’m gonna head out. I promised the girls that I’d chaperon their trip. Thanks for helping, Damian.” 

“You’re welcome,” Damian says, then goes over to wash his hands to get rid of the irritating feeling. 

Dick pulls the second batch out and after being checked, Barbara claps. 

“Alright, we’re good to go. You have to frost those, but it’s just store bought frosting and Tim can help you if you really need it. I have to go, but I will see you guys later,” Barbara says. “You two should try the cupcakes before you send them.” 

“I will later,” Dick says. “I think I’m gonna nap.” 

“Lazy bum,” Barbara teases. 

Dick sticks his tongue out at Barbara, who laughs. 

She grabs Damian’s hand. “Goodbye, Damian.” 

“Goodbye, Barbara.” 

She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, then Dick walks Barbara out. Damian goes into the kitchen and looks at the two plates with a single cupcake on each. He grabs them and takes them into the living room. He puts them on the table. 

Dick walks back in with a smile. “I’ll eat mine a little later Dami, but feel free to eat yours now.” 

Dick sits down on the couch and leans his head back. 

“Are you tired, Grayson?” 

“Yeah, I haven’t slept the last couple of days. Been busy.” 

“Take care of yourself, or I’ll tell Father and he’ll make you stay here.” 

Dick laughs. “You wouldn’t.” 

Damian smiles. “Try me, Grayson. I’ll do it.” 

Dick sighs, but he’s still smiling. “Fine, I’ll get some sleep after patrol tonight.” 

Damian looks back at the cupcake on the plate, contemplating actually eating it. He meticulously unwraps it. 

“Any particular route you wanna take through Gotham tonight?” Dick asks. 

“I don’t care as long as patrol gets done properly,” Damian replies, then takes a bite of the cupcake. 

He puts it back down on the plate. Almost immediately after Damian feels like something is wrong with him. After a minute, his face starts to feel warm and he starts coughing. 

“Damian?” Dick’s voice sounds far away. 

He feels his throat start to close up. 

“Dami!” 

Damian’s legs give out and he falls. Someone catches Damian and he feels something stab into his leg. Instinctively, he lashes a hand out. It’s caught by the wrist and Damian doesn’t have the strength to fight back before blacking out. 

Damian wakes up to hear a worried voice. There’s beeping. He opens his eyes and sees hospital equipment. Dick’s in the doorway, talking to someone. 

The worried voice is his.  

Damian hears the beeping picking up speed, then Dick turns. 

“Hey, Dami.” 

He goes over and sits in the chair at Damian’s bedside. 

“What happened?” Damian asks, his voice coming out a little hoarse. 

Dick cringes. 

“You had a bad reaction to something in the cupcake. Considering the recipe, we’re leaning towards something in the avocado oil,” Dick says. “I’m so sorry, buddy.” 

“What are you sorry about? It’s not like you knew what would happen and gave it to me anyway.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“So don’t apologize. There’s no need. Is it just us?” 

“You wish,” Dick replies. “Stephanie and Cass are the only ones not here because they’re off with Barbara. Everyone else is here. Most of them just got here, but all of them are here.” 

Damian fights the urge to groan at his family’s absurdity. 

“Dad’s talking to the doctor right now for us to set up a time for you to get an allergy test. Damn, I feel stupid for not thinking of this before.” 

“It’s not like any of the rest of us thought of it. You’re too hard on yourself.” 

“Maybe,” Dick mutters. 

Jason and Tim poke their heads into the room and look relieved to see Damian awake. 

“Hello, Todd. Drake.” 

They settle down in chairs around the bed and Damian feels an odd sense of gratitude. Even though he feels that it’s ridiculous that almost his whole family showed up, he’s glad they’re there. Jason and Tim attempt to distract Damian until Bruce comes in. 

“How are you?” Bruce asks, standing behind Dick’s chair with his hands on the headrest. 

“I’m fine,” Damian answers. 

Dick and Tim raise an eyebrow while Jason scoffs. 

“Stop that, Todd.” 

Jason shrugs. 

Bruce and Damian make eye contact for a moment, then Bruce nods. “Alright, I’ll take it for now. The test is set for a month from now. They want you to have time to fully recover from this before they expose you to anything else.” Damian nods. 

“Thank you, Father.” 

Bruce nods. 

While listening to his family talking to each other, Damian falls asleep again.