#he did this at another show too and threatened to eat it

[scarletwinterxx]

drowning in the deepest of truths, I think I'm falling for you - choi seungcheol scenario

hellooo ~ so it's been a while... few things to address😅 i saw svt recently and i can confirm i cried hahah and second thing, a certain mr. seungcheol choi bias wrecked me so we're here. say thank u to him🤣

THIS ISTG TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE. if you've been here for a long time, i think it's obvious i love a good friends-to-lovers storyline. i wanna give myself a pat on the back for writing this😅hope you like it too!!

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve been friends with Seungcheol for as long as you can remember. He’s the dependable guy, the one who shows up at your door with takeout when you’re upset, drives you to late-night emergencies, and threatens to "have a word" with anyone who so much as looks at you the wrong way. He’s also the same guy who will call you at 2 AM to complain about Jeonghan stealing his food or Seungkwan roasting his playlist choices.

It’s all very platonic.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

But here’s the thing—platonic friends don’t always behave the way Seungcheol does with you.

Like how he always walks closest to the road when you’re together. You thought he did that for everyone until Jeonghan once teased him about being your personal bodyguard. “What, I’m just making sure she’s safe,” he’d grumbled, cheeks faintly red. You’d laughed it off, but now every time he switches sides to keep you away from traffic, your brain unhelpfully replays Jeonghan’s teasing.

Then there’s his car. His precious car. The one you’ve seen him ban people from for spilling a drink or even breathing too close to the upholstery. Yet, somehow, you’re the only one allowed to eat fries in it without getting scolded. “Because you’re neat,” he’d explained once, though you distinctly remember dropping ketchup on the seat that one time. He cleaned it up himself and still handed you another fry.

And don’t even get started on the hand thing. He always has a hand on your back—guiding you through crowds, steadying you when you wobble on uneven ground, or just casually resting it there when you’re walking side by side.

It’s warm, reassuring, and totally not something friends think about when they’re lying in bed at night.

You tried asking him about it once. “You’re very handsy, you know.”

“Would you rather I let you trip and fall?” he’d retorted with a smirk.

“Not what I meant, but okay.”

The problem is, Seungcheol seems completely unaffected by all this. He treats you like you’re just another one of his friends, albeit one he’s particularly protective of. You’ve heard him swear up and down to Jeonghan and Seungkwan that you’re just his friend. Jeonghan, of course, doesn’t believe him.

“Right, because you hold all your ‘friends’ like they’re a national treasure,” Jeonghan had said, earning himself a withering glare.

“Shut up, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol had snapped, but his ears were noticeably pink.

Then there was Seungkwan, who once asked, “Why don’t you just marry her already? Save us all the suspense.”

“We’re friends,” Seungcheol had groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

It’s honestly infuriating. Not because you want him to admit something else (okay, maybe you do, but only a little), but because it leaves you constantly second-guessing everything.

Like when he shows up to your apartment with soup because you mentioned a scratchy throat, or when he lingers outside your building after dropping you off just to make sure you’re inside safely.

Or—your personal favorite—when he softens. That big, tough guy act he puts on with everyone else melts the second he looks at you.

His voice gets gentler, his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and he’s suddenly the kind of guy who brushes hair out of your face without a second thought.

It’s maddening.

And apparently, you’re not the only one who thinks so.

“I don’t get it,” Jeonghan says one day, while you’re all sitting at a café. “Why are you two still dancing around each other? Just confess already.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “What?! There’s nothing to confess!”

“Exactly,” Seungcheol agrees, but his jaw tightens ever so slightly

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Sure. And I’m the president.”

“Jeonghan, drop it,” Seungcheol warns.

“Fine, fine.” Jeonghan smirks but doesn’t look convinced.

By the time you’re walking home together later, the conversation keeps replaying in your head. Seungcheol is quiet beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you say, bumping your shoulder against his.

He glances at you, his expression unreadable. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“...Nothing important.”

You don’t push, but as his hand finds its familiar place on your back when you cross the street, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Jeonghan was onto something.

You knew it was going to be a long day when your boss handed you that stack of papers at 4 PM. By the time you finally wrapped up, the office was practically empty, the night sky spilling across the windows.

A quick glance at your phone confirmed what you already dreaded—you’d missed the last bus. Groaning, you stuffed your things into your bag, resigning yourself to the long walk home.

It wasn’t that bad. Just… cold, dark, and slightly creepy. You’d be fine.

Totally fine.

But when you pushed through the lobby doors and stepped outside, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was.

Choi Seungcheol, leaning casually against his car, arms crossed over his chest like he’d been waiting all night. His head tilted up as soon as he heard the door open, and when he saw you, that familiar, infuriatingly soft smile spread across his face.

“Finally,” he said, pushing off the car. “I thought you were going to sleep in there.”

Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you managed, “What… what are you doing here?”

“Picking you up,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world

“I didn’t ask you to.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t need to.”

You frowned, confused. “How did you even know I was still here?”

“Your light was on when I drove by earlier.”

“You drove by?”

He had the audacity to look sheepish. “I figured you’d miss the bus. And I didn’t want you walking home alone.”

Your heart did an annoying little flip. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Sure you can,” he said, completely unfazed. “But humor me, okay? Get in the car.”

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to argue, but the cold wind nipping at your cheeks made the decision for you. “Fine,” you muttered, walking past him to the passenger door.

“Good choice,” he said, smirking as he opened the door for you.

The car was warm, smelling faintly of his cologne, and as you settled into the seat, you couldn’t help but notice the little things—how he’d adjusted the seat warmer on your side or how there was a blanket folded neatly in the backseat.

He climbed in and started the engine, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Hungry?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You barely eat when you’re working late,” he said. “We can grab something on the way home.”

You stared at him, baffled. “Do you do this for all your friends?”

He smirked, pulling out of the parking lot. “Do what?”

“Show up unannounced, wait in the cold, and then offer to feed them.”

“Only the ones who miss the last bus.”

Your lips twitched despite yourself. “So just me, then?”

“Just you,” he admitted, glancing at you again with a small smile.

The ride home was quiet, the hum of the engine and the city lights passing by making everything feel oddly intimate. When he finally pulled up in front of your building, you turned to him, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“Thanks for… this,” you said awkwardly, gesturing vaguely.

“Anytime,” he said easily.

As you reached for the door handle, he stopped you. “Hey.”

You turned back, and his expression had softened, the playful smirk replaced with something quieter, more sincere.

“Text me next time, okay? So I don’t have to guess.”

Your chest tightened, and you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Okay.”

You stepped out of the car, his eyes on you the entire time, and as you walked to your building, you couldn’t help but smile.

He wasn’t just a friend. Not to you, anyway. And maybe, just maybe, you weren’t just a friend to him either.

It was supposed to be a quiet night for Seungcheol. He’d gone out with some friends, had a couple of drinks, and was planning to head home early. But somehow, he ended up back at Jeonghan’s place with Seungkwan sitting cross-legged on the couch, both of them looking far too smug for his liking.

They were up to something. They were always up to something.

“So,” Jeonghan started, drawing out the word like he had all the time in the world, “guess who’s out on a date right now?”

Seungcheol barely glanced up from his phone. “I don’t know. Who?”

“You,” Seungkwan deadpanned, then snorted. “Kidding. It’s her.”

Seungcheol’s fingers froze mid-scroll. “What?”

“You know who,” Jeonghan said, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s on a date,” Seungkwan added, like he was explaining something to a toddler.

Seungcheol’s brain short-circuited for a second. “Wait. What?”

“Why are you so shocked?” Jeonghan leaned back, looking like the cat that got the cream. “She’s a grown woman. She deserves to have a little fun.”

“She’s—she’s on a date?” Seungcheol repeated, his voice louder this time

“Yes, and he’s so handsome,” Seungkwan said dramatically, clasping his hands together like he was narrating a fairytale. “Tall, charming, great hair—”

“Wait a minute. You set her up?” Seungcheol cut in, his voice sharp

“Of course,” Jeonghan said breezily. “You weren’t making a move, so we figured someone else should.”

“I’m not—” Seungcheol started, then stopped, his jaw clenching. “She doesn’t need you meddling in her life.”

“She seemed fine with it,” Jeonghan said, grinning. “Actually, she looked pretty excited.”

That sentence hit Seungcheol like a punch to the gut. You? Excited to go on a date with some random guy? The thought made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t want to think about.

“I don’t get why you care so much,” Seungkwan said, narrowing his eyes. “I mean, she’s just your friend, right?”

Seungcheol’s head snapped toward him, but he didn’t say anything, his jaw working furiously as he tried to come up with a response.

“Right?” Seungkwan pressed, leaning forward.

Jeonghan smirked. “You do seem awfully worked up for someone who’s ‘just a friend.’”

Seungcheol shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. “She is my friend.”

“Hmm,” Jeonghan hummed, unconvinced. “Then why do you look like you’re about to track down this guy and challenge him to a duel?”

“I’m not—” Seungcheol groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m just… concerned.”

“About what?” Seungkwan asked innocently.

“About her,” Seungcheol snapped. “What if he’s some creep? What if he says something to upset her? What if—”

“Oh my God,” Jeonghan interrupted, laughing. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Seungcheol said through gritted teeth.

“Then why are you gripping the couch like it insulted your ancestors?” Seungkwan asked, gesturing to Seungcheol’s white-knuckled hands.

“I’m just protective,” he argued weakly.

“Right. Protective,” Jeonghan said, rolling his eyes. “Because that totally explains the vein popping out of your forehead right now.”

Seungcheol groaned again, sinking back into the couch. He hated how transparent he was, especially to these two.

“Look,” Jeonghan said, leaning forward, his tone suddenly serious. “If you don’t want her going on dates with other guys, then maybe you should finally admit how you feel.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t even try it,” Seungkwan cut in, holding up a hand. “We all know. She’s the only person you drop everything for. The only one you talk to with that stupid soft voice. You treat her like she’s your entire world, but you’re too stubborn to say it.”

Seungcheol opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. Because they were right. They were absolutely, infuriatingly right.

“Okay, fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I feel something. But what if she doesn’t feel the same?”

Jeonghan snorted. “Are you kidding me? She’s just as bad as you. She talks about you all the time, and don’t even get me started on the way she looks at you. You’re both idiots.”

Seungkwan nodded solemnly. “Big, dumb idiots.”

Seungcheol stared at them, his mind racing. Maybe it was time to stop being an idiot.

“Where’s this date happening?” he asked suddenly.

Jeonghan and Seungkwan exchanged a glance, their smirks returning.

“Why?” Jeonghan asked, feigning innocence.

Seungcheol stood, grabbing his jacket. “Because I’m about to fix this.”

“Finally,” Seungkwan muttered, shaking his head.

Jeonghan grinned. “Go get her, tiger.”

And with that, Seungcheol stormed out, determined to set things right—even if it meant crashing your date.

Meanwhile you were having a perfectly peaceful evening. The kind where the air was crisp, the stars were starting to peek out, and the banana milk you’d picked up from the convenience store was hitting just right. Strolling through your neighborhood, you took another long sip, savoring the sweetness.

And then, like something out of a drama, Seungcheol’s sleek black car zipped past you.

You blinked, nearly choking on your drink.

Was that…? No, it couldn’t be. But then the brake lights lit up, and the car slowed before making a sharp U-turn.

You stopped walking, half-expecting someone else to step out of the car. But, of course, it was Seungcheol.

He parked haphazardly by the curb and got out, looking a little disheveled, which was unusual for him. His jacket was slightly askew, and his hair looked like he’d run his hands through it one too many times.

“Hey,” he said, jogging up to you, his voice slightly breathless.

“Uh, hi?” you said, thoroughly confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he countered, crossing his arms but not quite meeting your eyes.

“I’m just walking,” you replied, holding up your banana milk as if to prove your innocence. “What about you?”

He hesitated for a second too long. “I was… driving.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Driving? Around here?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was… in the area.”

“In the area?” you repeated, unconvinced.

“Yes,” he said firmly, but his eyes flickered to the drink in your hand, betraying his nerves.

You decided not to press him. Seungcheol acting weird wasn’t exactly new, but something about him tonight seemed different. Like he was on edge. His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense, and he kept shifting from foot to foot like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“You okay?” you asked softly, tilting your head.

He froze, then sighed, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’m just… stressed,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Work?” you guessed.

“Something like that,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

You frowned, feeling a pang of concern. Without thinking, you held out your banana milk to him, your fingers curling around the straw as you offered it up. “Here. This always makes me feel better.”

He blinked at you, caught completely off guard. “What?”

“Drink it,” you said, blinking up at him innocently. “It’ll help.”

He stared at you for a moment, his expression softening in that way that always made your heart skip a beat. “You’re sharing your banana milk with me?”

“Don’t make it weird,” you mumbled, cheeks warming.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he took the drink from you, his fingers brushing yours. He took a hesitant sip, his eyes never leaving yours, and for a moment, the world felt strangely quiet.

“Not bad,” he said, handing it back to you.

“See? Instant stress relief,” you said lightly, though your chest felt tight for reasons you didn’t want to examine too closely.

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made you feel uncharacteristically shy. Finally, he reached out, ruffling your hair like he used to do when you were younger. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

You laughed softly, brushing his hand away. “Someone’s gotta take care of you.”

His smile faltered just slightly, something unspoken passing between you before he cleared his throat and stepped back. “I’ll drive you home.”

“It’s just a short walk—”

“Let me drive you,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You didn’t fight him on it. You weren’t sure why, but Seungcheol’s strange mood tugged at something deep inside you.

As you climbed into his car and he pulled onto the road, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his stress than he was letting on. And from the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened every time he glanced at you, you had a feeling he was thinking the exact same thing.

A few days later since that night. You're still wondering why Seungcheol was acting weird but you brush it off, thinking maybe he's just stressed because of work.

Now you're somewhere unfamiliar.

You sighed in frustration, staring at the unfamiliar street signs around you.

You were definitely lost.

The errand you thought would take twenty minutes had somehow turned into an hour-long disaster. To make matters worse, your phone signal had cut out just when you’d tried to pull up directions.

After wandering aimlessly for what felt like forever, your phone finally regained some service, and you immediately dialed Jeonghan’s number. He was your go-to for emergencies like this—always on his phone and annoyingly calm in situations where you were about ready to cry.

“Hello?” Jeonghan’s familiar voice answered on the first ring

“Jeonghan!” you practically wailed. “I’m lost.”

“Lost?” he echoed, sounding more amused than concerned. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned, scanning the street for anything remotely familiar. “I think I took a wrong turn somewhere, and then my phone lost signal, and now I have no idea where I am.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, clearly suppressing a laugh. “Relax. Describe your surroundings.”

You rattled off a description of the nearby buildings and street signs, and Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully. “Alright, I think I know where you are. Just stay put, and I’ll send someone to get you.”

“Wait—someone? Who?”

But before he could answer, the line disconnected.

Fifteen minutes later, as you sat on a bench scrolling through your now-working phone, your screen lit up with an incoming call from Seungcheol.

You hesitated for a second before answering. “Hello?”

“What the hell?” was the first thing out of his mouth, his voice a mix of irritation and concern.

“What?” you asked, confused

“Why didn’t you call me?” he demanded

You blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re lost, right? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I—” You paused, feeling slightly guilty. “I figured you’d be busy with work. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” he repeated incredulously. “You think calling me when you’re lost is a bother?”

“I mean… kind of?” you said hesitantly. “You’re always so busy, and I didn’t want to distract you.”

There was a brief pause, and when he spoke again, his tone was softer, almost hurt. “You’re never a bother, you know that, right?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling small. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything important.”

“You’re important,” he shot back without missing a beat.

Your heart did a funny little flip at his words, but you tried to shake it off. “Jeonghan said he’d send someone to get me,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, and that someone is me,” Seungcheol said, his voice firm. “I’m on my way.”

“Oh,” was all you managed to say.

“Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said, and then the line went dead.

True to his word, Seungcheol’s car pulled up exactly ten minutes later. He got out and strode toward you, his expression a mixture of exasperation and relief.

“You okay?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for any signs of distress.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said sheepishly. “Sorry for making you come all the way out here.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “Just… next time, call me first, okay? No matter what. I don’t care how busy I am.”

You nodded, feeling warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Okay. I will.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before reaching out to flick your forehead gently. “Idiot,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his voice. “You scared me.”

You smiled up at him, clutching your phone tightly. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Always.”

And with that, he opened the car door for you, muttering something about making sure you had a proper map app installed while you slid into the passenger seat, feeling safer than you’d felt all day.

The car was quiet save for the low hum of the engine as Seungcheol drove. You sat in the passenger seat, sneaking glances at him every now and then. His brows were slightly furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. You could tell he was still annoyed—though more at himself than at you—but the silence was starting to get to you.

“Are you really mad?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper

He didn’t answer right away, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. You shifted in your seat, feeling a small pang of guilt.

“Cheol?” you tried again, a little louder this time

Finally, he glanced at you, just for a second, and that’s when he saw it—the faint pout on your lips, your eyes wide and filled with worry.

Whatever lingering annoyance he felt melted away instantly.

How could he ever stay mad at you?

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.

In that fleeting moment, something clicked. He’d always known he cared about you, but this was different.

This was deeper.

The way his chest ached at the thought of you being lost, the way he couldn’t focus on anything else until he knew you were safe—it all made sense now.

He was in deep. Really, truly in deep.

But he kept that realization buried, locking it away for now. Because what if you didn’t feel the same? What if he ruined what you already had?

So instead of saying what was really on his mind, he shook his head and let out a small sigh. “No, I’m not mad,” he said softly, his voice losing all the sharpness from earlier.

“Really?” you asked, your pout disappearing as a hopeful smile crept onto your face.

He glanced at you again, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “Really. Just… call me next time, okay? No matter what.”

“Okay,” you said quickly, nodding.

“Good,” he said, turning his attention back to the road. But the corner of his mouth quirked up, betraying his amusement at how eager you were to ease his worries.

And as you settled back into your seat, sipping the banana milk you’d insisted on bringing with you, Seungcheol kept driving, silently grappling with the fact that you had him wrapped around your finger—and you didn’t even know it.

It’s not something you consciously think about, but Seungcheol is the first person you instinctively search for in every situation.

Whether it’s at a gathering, in a crowded room, or even during simple moments like deciding where to sit, your eyes always find him first. And it’s always easy to spot him—because, without fail, he leaves a space open beside him, like he’s silently saving it just for you.

He never says anything about it, but you’ve come to notice how it’s always you in the passenger seat of his car, you who gets the last fry from his plate, and you who he lets get away with things no one else can.

One day, after an especially long week at work, you found yourself riding home with him again. The car was quiet, save for the soft hum of the radio, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

“Cheol,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Hmm?” he responded, glancing at you briefly before returning his attention to the road.

“Do you think…” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Do you think I’m taking advantage of you being such a good friend?”

He frowned slightly, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “What?”

“I mean…” You trailed off, unsure how to explain yourself. “You do so much for me. I feel like I’m always leaning on you, and maybe—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, pulling the car to a gentle stop at a red light. He turned to look at you, his expression soft but serious. “You’re not taking advantage of me.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he reached over, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear in that way that always made your breath catch.

“I wouldn’t do any of it if I didn’t want to,” he said firmly, his voice low and steady. Then, with a small smile, he added, “Take advantage of me all you want.”

You blinked at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. For a moment, it felt like the world outside the car had faded away, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble.

There was something in the way he said it, something in his gaze that made your chest tighten. Like he wasn’t just saying you could rely on him, but something deeper—something more.

But you didn’t push it, didn’t ask him to elaborate.

Instead, you smiled softly, feeling your cheeks warm. “Thanks, Cheol.”

He nodded, turning back to the road as the light turned green, but his fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, as if he was trying to shake off whatever had just passed between you.

And though neither of you said it out loud, his words lingered in the air between you, unspoken but clear.

Take advantage of me all you want.

It sounded an awful lot like he was saying, I’m yours.

The music was loud, the kind that vibrated through your chest and made regular conversation impossible.

You were at yet another one of Seungkwan’s chaotic gatherings, where everyone was laughing, shouting, and dancing all at once. You were trying to tell Seungcheol something, but no matter how loud you spoke, your voice barely reached him over the noise.

Finally, with a little huff of frustration, you stepped closer to him. So close that you had to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. He raised an eyebrow at you, amused but curious, as if to ask, What’s up?

Without thinking, you stood on your tiptoes, your hand lightly gripping his arm for balance. Leaning in, you brought your lips close to his ear and whispered the words you’d been trying to say.

His reaction was immediate. You felt his hands gently rest on your waist, steadying you like it was second nature. His touch was warm, firm, and grounding in the chaos of the room.

“What?” he asked, turning his head slightly so his lips were near your ear now, his voice low enough that it sent a shiver down your spine.

You repeated yourself, barely able to focus with how close the two of you were. You could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the faint, familiar scent of his cologne.

When you pulled back just enough to look at him, you caught the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he slid one of his hands down from your waist and took your hand in his.

Your breath hitched when his fingers laced with yours, his grip firm but gentle, like he wasn’t planning to let go anytime soon. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, and he gave your hand a little squeeze, as if to silently say, I hear you now.

The moment stretched between you, the noise of the room fading into the background as you stared up at him. His eyes were warm, his smile soft, and for a second, you felt like the two of you were the only ones in the room.

“Better?” he asked, his voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You nodded, your cheeks warm as you managed a small smile. “Better.”

He didn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the night.

As the night wore on, you and Seungcheol gravitated toward each other like magnets. Even in the chaos of the party, you never strayed far, and he made no effort to hide how closely he kept you by his side.

At one point, you found yourself standing in front of him, tucked neatly into the protective circle of his arms. His broad frame loomed behind you, shielding your much smaller figure from the crowd. It was a natural thing, the way his arms rested lightly around your waist, his hands occasionally brushing against your sides.

You weren’t sure when you had become so glued to each other, but you didn’t mind. You felt safe there, cocooned in his warmth, the noise of the party fading into the background as you leaned into his steady presence.

Seungcheol leaned down slightly, his chin nearly brushing the top of your head as he murmured, “You okay?”

You turned your head slightly to glance back at him, your eyes meeting his. “Yeah, I’m good.”

His lips quirked into a soft smile, and he gave your waist a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure himself. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“I think I’m fine as long as I stay right here,” you replied without thinking, and you felt his chest rumble with quiet laughter behind you.

“Yeah?” he teased, his voice low and warm. “You planning to stick to me all night?”

You shrugged, your cheeks warming. “Maybe.”

His laugh softened, and you felt his arms tighten around you ever so slightly. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter this time, almost like he hadn’t meant for you to hear it.

From the other side of the room, Seungkwan and Jeonghan stood together, sipping their drinks and watching the scene unfold like it was a live drama.

Jeonghan leaned casually against the wall, a smirk dancing on his lips as his eyes flicked between you and Seungcheol. “You seeing this?” he murmured, just loud enough for Seungkwan to hear over the noise.

“Oh, I’m seeing it,” Seungkwan replied, trying his best to keep a straight face but failing miserably. His grin threatened to split his face in two as he watched Seungcheol pull you closer, his arms tightening protectively around you.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “Should we—”

“Don’t even think about it,” Seungkwan interrupted, though he looked like he was barely holding himself back. “You saw the look he gave us earlier. He’ll kill us if we say anything.”

Just then, Seungcheol’s eyes flicked toward them, sharp and warning. It was a look that screamed, Don’t. You. Dare.

Jeonghan, of course, couldn’t resist a bit of mischief. He raised his glass in a mock toast, tilting his head slightly as if to say, Oh, we’ll see about that.

Seungcheol’s glare darkened, and he subtly mouthed, Don’t.

Seungkwan elbowed Jeonghan, barely stifling his laughter. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

“Oh, come on,” Jeonghan whispered back, smirking. “It’s too good not to say something. Look at them. She’s practically in his arms, and he’s acting like she’s the only person in the room.”

“I know, but...” Seungkwan hesitated, glancing back at Seungcheol, who had now fully turned his body to shield you from the crowd. “He’s terrifying when it comes to her.”

“Exactly,” Jeonghan said, his smirk widening. “Which makes this even more fun.”

Before either of them could act on their instincts, Seungcheol shot them another glare—this one so intense that even Jeonghan momentarily reconsidered his life choices.

Seungkwan cleared his throat, straightening up. “Yeah, nope. Not worth it. I like being alive.”

Jeonghan chuckled, but even he backed off, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. We’ll let him have his moment. For now.”

But as they watched you and Seungcheol disappear into the night, Jeonghan leaned over to Seungkwan with a glint in his eye. “We’re never letting him live this down, though.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Seungkwan agreed, grinning. “We’re just waiting for the right moment to strike.”

And with that, the two of them shared a conspiratorial laugh, already plotting how they’d tease Seungcheol later—if they lived to tell the tale.

The quiet of the car was a stark contrast to the laughter and energy of the night. It was just the two of you now, the hum of the engine and the soft rush of air outside the windows filling the space between your thoughts.

Seungcheol’s eyes were on the road, his focus steady, but there was something different in the air tonight. It felt like the perfect moment to finally ask the question that had been lingering on your mind.

"Cheol?" you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Mhm?" he replied, glancing at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road.

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of your thoughts making your chest tighten just a little. "We're not just friends, are we?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

You had been wondering for a while now, but it felt like the right time to ask.

Seungcheol didn’t immediately respond. The car continued on its path, the sound of the engine filling the space. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but there was a quiet, almost amused undertone to it.

"Whatever you want me to be, I'll be that," he said simply, his eyes still on the road, but there was something in his tone that made your heart skip a beat.

You blinked, processing his words. "What does that mean?" you asked, voice quieter now, trying to decipher his meaning.

"It means," he began, "if you want me to be more than a friend, then that’s what I’ll be. If you want me to be something else, I’ll be that too."

You felt your chest tighten, the air between you both thick with unspoken things.

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that things had shifted, that the line between just friends and something more was now more blurred than ever before.

"Thanks for the ride," you said softly, unable to hold back a small smile.

Seungcheol smiled back, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer. "Anytime,".

The boys had decided it was time for a beach day—a full day of sun, sand, and chaos. Naturally, Seungcheol insisted you join, claiming it wouldn’t be the same without you. So here you were, walking down the sandy shore with a tote bag slung over your shoulder while the boys argued over the best spot to set up.

Jeonghan, of course, found the shadiest area and claimed it before anyone could argue, while Seungkwan bickered about who had to blow up the inflatable. Meanwhile, Seungcheol carried your beach chair and umbrella, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were keeping up.

When everything was set up, you kicked off your sandals and ran toward the water, the cool waves splashing against your feet. The boys stayed back for a while, caught up in their own antics, until Jeonghan called out to Seungcheol.

“Hey, big guy! You’re really just going to let her wander off alone?”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes but still got up, his protective instincts kicking in almost immediately. He strolled down the beach after you, arms crossed casually over his chest, his broad shoulders drawing attention from passersby.

You were completely oblivious, laughing as you dipped your toes into the waves. That is, until a couple of guys sidled up to you, grinning and trying to make small talk.

“Hey, you here alone?” one of them asked, his tone far too confident for his own good.

“No,” you replied politely but firmly, already taking a step back.

“Come on, just a little chat—”

“Is there a problem here?”

That voice. Low, firm, and unmistakably Seungcheol’s.

The guys froze, their smiles faltering as they turned to see him standing there. His towering frame, sharp jawline, and intense gaze were enough to make them instantly reconsider their life choices.

“N-no, man, we were just—”

“Leaving,” Seungcheol finished for them, his tone leaving no room for argument.

They didn’t need to be told twice, muttering apologies as they shuffled away.

You turned to Seungcheol, your eyebrows raised. “That wasn’t necessary. I could’ve handled it.”

“I know you could’ve,” he said, his tone softening as he looked at you. “But why should you have to?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “My knight in shining board shorts.”

Seungcheol chuckled, nudging your shoulder gently. “Someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.”

The two of you made your way back to the group, where Jeonghan and Seungkwan were snickering.

“Cheol scared off some beach bros, didn’t he?” Jeonghan guessed, smirking.

“Didn’t even have to try,” Seungkwan added. “He just exists, and they run for their lives.”

Seungcheol ignored them, guiding you to your chair and handing you a bottle of water. “Drink up,” he said, his hand brushing against yours briefly.

You didn’t miss the way his touch lingered or the way his gaze softened when he looked at you. And while the boys continued to tease him relentlessly, he just sat back with a satisfied smirk, his protective streak in full swing.

By the end of the day, no one even thought about approaching you again—not when Seungcheol made it very clear, without saying a word, that you weren’t alone.

The sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The beach was quieter now, the once-loud waves now lapping gently at the shore. Seungcheol crouched down in front of you, his back turned as he gestured for you to hop on.

“Come on, before the sun sets,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with a small grin.

“Why do I have to be the one on your back?” you teased, but you didn’t hesitate to climb on, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands secured your legs.

“Because I’d crush you if it were the other way around,” he shot back, standing effortlessly with you in tow.

He started walking along the shoreline, the sand soft beneath his feet. You leaned your cheek against his, your fingers lightly tapping against his chest as you spoke.

“Did you know that sea otters hold hands while they sleep so they don’t drift apart?”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. It’s called a raft. Isn’t that cute?”

“Almost as cute as you randomly spitting out facts,” he said with a chuckle, glancing sideways at you.

You ignored him, continuing your stream of trivia. “Oh! And dolphins have names for each other. Like, they have a specific whistle for every dolphin in their pod.”

“Do they have a whistle for their favorite dolphin?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“Obviously,” you said, squishing your cheek harder against his. “If I were a dolphin, you’d have a whistle just for me.”

“I already do,” he murmured, his words so soft that you almost didn’t catch them over the sound of the waves.

You paused for a moment, the warm breeze brushing past the two of you. Then, out of nowhere, you whispered, “I love you.”

Seungcheol froze mid-step, his breath hitching just enough for you to notice. Slowly, he turned his head to look at you, his cheek brushing against yours.

“I was hoping I’d say it first,” he said with a soft laugh, his dimples deepening as he smiled at you.

Your heart swelled at the sight, and you couldn’t help but grin back. “Guess you’re too slow, Cheol.”

“Guess so,” he replied, his voice warm and steady. Then, without putting you down, he turned to face the sunset.

“Say it again,” he said after a moment, his tone teasing but with a hint of something deeper beneath it.

“I love you,” you said, softer this time, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke.

He let out a content sigh, his hands tightening slightly on your legs as if grounding himself in the moment.

“I love you too,” he finally said, his voice carrying all the tenderness he’d been holding back for so long.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, you stayed there, clinging to each other, both knowing you had everything you could ever need right in that moment.

[touchd0wn-boy]

Mark unearthing 30 year old candy from his first amp case

[bamjio]

❛ 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘆 ❜— ✿ .. deadpool headcanonns!

BEING WADE WILSONS' ONE AND ONLY ❛ WIFE. ❜ !

⋆˚✿˖° — CLINGY! it's honestly feels suffocating. Does he know personal space? of course. does he oblige to that rule? he'd rather dig logans burial.

— it doesn't matter, wade believes that if you love someone you won't let them go, literally.

— you'd always wake up to him tightly hugging you down, his arms and legs hovering your figure. don't think of letting go, cause he'll just grip more.

— expect him to go over your workplace and hang out there till the end of your shift, he won't budge even if the manager threatened to call the cops.

— goodness, he's just so obsessed with your scent, skin, hair, face, lips, arms, ❛boobies❜, and everything. he'd rather cut his head off than avoid you for a solid 3 days.

⋆˚✿˖° — CHILDISH! is wade a grown man that kills people or a child that wants your attention 24/7? Well, he's a child that kills and wants your attention.

— him being your husband feels like your with a child that won't grow up, he loves making a huge mess, doing anything to impress you, even fighting Logan for fun to show off who's stronger.

— wherever you both go, he'd always wander off somewhere; bothering someone or touching things that aren't supposed to be touched. and you're always panicking looking for wade, usually takes a few hours until he magically finds you, or you find him.

— loves likes seeing you angry, he claims that it's ❛super hot❜ and ❛cute, looks like a cat❜, so he'd bother you every unexpected time, whenever you'd read a book he likes to steal it and read it out loud, whenever you're on the verge of slumber; he'd either yell or picture your sleepy state.

— you're like a mother always scolding wade, and thankfully he obeys you, like a guilty child. yet his manners still come back like his life, you will never get tired of him though, and he knows it.

⋆˚✿˖° — OVERPROTECTIVE! your friends call it lovesick, but him and his 'audience' call it protecting! yeah, maybe he did kill your co worker because he called you crybaby, but thats besides the point.

— special forces, mutant, anti-hero, killer; yadayada, he's everything not a simple man could protect, call him delusional but unexpected things happen, you could get assassinated while eating breakfast, or worse. It's not being too weird, it's being considerate.

— definitely forced Logan to look after you once, not that he minds; Logan admires you. and that turned out to you finding out and scolding wade, being a big baby he is— he definitely didn't talk to you.

— ❛whos that in my bosses office??❜ suprise! it's wade holding a gun to your superiors head while waving at you, well because your boss threatened to fire you.

— in realities and seriousness, he doesn't wanna loose you. loosing someone pains him so much, yet being annoying is the only way he can cope. he lost so much people and he can't afford to loose you too. and him being wanted and a so called 'villain' in every story, he knows one day theyll figure you out.

⋆˚✿˖° — LOYAL! before the day you guys talked, he vowed that if he finds himself attach to another woman romantically, he'd hang himself. he loves you and even if you didn't, no one could ever replace you.

— despite lotta girls getting attracted to him, his eyes will be locked at you. his ears and eyes will forever be yours to catch.

— won't hesitate to slam a girls face into a metal table if they'd ever flirt with you, even with him showing you off. What's only stopping him is you not wanting him to harm anyone, and he's definitely obedient when it comes to you.

— define bare minimum, cause he definitely isn't just the minimum. his profiles in every social contains either your face, or you and him. not only profile, also his header and posts, tagging you whenever he interacts with his 'fans' putting "with — y/n wilson" "my wife — y/n Wilson" "fbm —y/n wilson" and anything that contains you.

— would you really doubt your crazy husband and his whatever audience? Looks can deceive and he's the frame for it, honesty and loyalty is his integrity, he vowed to you and shown his loyalty, and he would never break it.

⋆˚✿˖° ❛iris — tggd❜ , ❛she will be loved — M5❜.

[synthetickitsune]

svt ot13 + when you're sick

Seungcheol ❧ This is why he drives an expensive car. The engine can barely be heard, and so at least Seungcheol doesn’t worry (so much) about the noise disturbing you. He steals a glance at your picture on his phone screen. You look miserable, tired, even as you’re sleeping. He can faintly make out the steady rise and fall of your chest. He takes a turn when the navigation tells him to, and he hopes the info online was correct and the pharmacy is still open. If you weren’t so sick he’d scold you about not being more careful about running out of medicine, but for now he will settle on restocking them for you. He takes another look at you, catching the exact moment you open your eyes and call his name. He reassures you he’s still there, just parking the car. Seungcheol takes the phone with him to the store that’s thankfully indeed open. He ignores your weak cries of embarrassed protest when he asks the person behind the counter how high does a temperature need to be to warrant a visit to the ER.

Jeonghan ❧ Your eyes water behind your closed eyelids and you want it to be just because of the headache, you will say it is because of it. Jeonghan will believe you anyway, even though you doubt he’d laugh right now even if he knew it might actually be because of the tender way he’s stroking your hair, your head held safely to his chest, and his soft voice quietly cooing praises and reassurances to you. You were pushing him away until you couldn’t anymore. He insists he’s always sick anyway, so it doesn’t matter. His arm is starting to get sore, but he won’t stop for as long as the action brings you comfort. In his head he keeps a checklist with no deadline in particular. He needs to make sure you eat, he needs to get some water in you too, he should get you to tell him everything that’s wrong. But that can wait until the painkillers kick in. Jeonghan knows you tried to be strong, and he’s proud - as he told you many times - but he’s prouder that you let him help. He kisses the top of your head and checks in with you. The silence is enough to tell him to keep going. So he does with a small smile.

Joshua ❧ No matter how many times you tell him that your condition isn’t so bad you’d need constant supervision, Joshua has none of it. He will make short trips outside your bedroom if necessary but otherwise he’s staying. You need him, he insists. You’re vulnerable and need his protection. He playfully punches the air that made you sick. Then he protectively squeezes you to his chest when your body is wrecked with chills. And he will take your approval of that as a sign he should continue with the silliness. He pretends to sneeze at you - to scare your germs away, he says. He reminds you that he’s at your beck and call. Ready to make you something to eat, ready to give you the medicine, always willing to provide cuddles and kisses. He will even softly sing to you if you need help falling asleep. Although for now it seems you’re happy enough to sleepily watch him and listen to his soothing voice. It makes Joshua's chest tight, the way you trust him, how lovingly you watch him, how you seem to thrive just because he’s near. Compared to when he spoke to you on the phone… Yeah, he’s not leaving the bedroom until you’re well.

Jun ❧ Jun is stubborn. You can insist, you can threaten him, you can plead with him to leave before he gets sick too but he won’t. He’s going to nurse you back to health just like you’d do for him. He wants to show off how well he can care for you - like cook you delicious meals. Only the nausea makes it hard to enjoy them. Again, though, he is stubborn and he will figure it out. There are other ways he can prove himself to be the best boyfriend. He can tell you’re as disappointed as he is that his cooking isn’t helping, but cheering you up is his other specialty. Never in his life did he expect he’d wake up his partner for food and pills by meowing in their face, but here he is. And if it gets you to move, to smile, to kiss his cheek, he’ll keep doing it. He doesn’t act cute too often for you, which makes these moments rare. It makes him shy, but it brings life back into your eyes. If you’re so tired and incoherent that you can only have full conversation in the cat language with Jun, so be it. His heart might be a little closer to bursting with every soft meow from your lips, but he’s stubborn. He’ll make it until you’re healthy.

Soonyoung ❧ You smile through the pain, fondly. Soonyoung is trying to be quiet but you’re too sensitive right now. He lists off all your symptoms to his mother on the phone and asks what could help. He asks for recipes, tips. You might be hyperaware of every sound, but you do end up falling asleep, his voice a distant lullaby. When you wake up, there’s a bowl of fruit cut into small pieces and small piles of various pills - medicine and vitamins, your boyfriend explains, hugging you tightly. He asks if you feel like eating, and then encourages you to try the fruit anyway. He starts telling you a story, but only continues for every little piece you eat. His joy at his idea working as he imagined makes you smile too. He goes through all of his mother’s suggestions at once. There’s a bag of frozen veggies on your forehead and more, making you look ridiculous. Some of it is working, some of it not. Soonyoung is trying to cook though, so that’s far more concerning. Love only does so much for a meal. When he asks if you think delivery will work as well as a home-cooked meal, you reassure him any healing you do will be thanks to the fruit he cut for you. 

Wonwoo ❧ He closes the blinds and pulls the curtains closed as well. Despite the midday sun’s best attempts, the room is dark. Wonwoo returns your smile, but still checks if there’s anything more he can do. He pushes the hair away from your face and pulls the blanket all the way to your chin. A pointless action, really, when you just sneak your hand out to hold his. He must admit you’re quite cute when the sickness makes you this needy. He expects you to ask him to stay when everything is prepared and he has yet to decide if he’ll agree straight away or tease you first. His own necessities are ready - his phone, book, console, anything he might need to entertain himself while he keeps you company and serves as your personal heater. He puts the medicine, already separated into individual doses, and water on the bedside table. He’ll order food later, having already learned the hard way you feel better with him close instead of trying to burn down the kitchen. You’re already half asleep when Wonwoo brings some snacks, so it makes the choice easy when you reach for him - silently he stays.

Jihoon ❧ It’s not the first time he’s grateful to be used to sleep deprivation, but it might be the first time he doesn’t feel any bitterness towards the fact. This once, Jihoon only feels bitter towards the AC in your office and the frailty of the human body. He can’t make out your face in the complete darkness, but the dark bags under your reddish eyes and the lethargy so unlike you haunt him still. His hand moves with your every raspy breath, following the movement of your chest. His legs have gone numb a long time ago, but he refuses to get up from the floor. If you turn away, then he’ll consider getting on the bed, but for the time being, he needs to stay here. If you wake up and want to hold his hand, he needs to be ready. If you’re too weak and too in pain to wait until the morning for the medicine, he needs to be ready. You stir in your sleep and he isn’t ready for the pained noise you make, your sleep disturbed by discomfort. So Jihoon starts humming a slow, comforting melody. It must be an instinct that your body relaxes immediately.

Minghao ❧ It’s nothing short of a herculean task to keep you in bed, especially when you’re sticky with sweat and feel like you’re boiling alive. The only thing that helps, Minghao discovered, is his voice. So he reads to you. He needs to keep at it at least until the latest dose of pills starts working. You squirm and whimper much less, reassured by his soothing presence. His voice is calm; his whole demeanor is. It’s not like he needs to freak out for you to know he’s worried. First he helps you feel more comfortable by gently cleaning your face with a cold wet towel. Then you gladly snuggle into his side. He holds the book open with one hand and the other he uses to gently massage your sore shoulder. You groan softly whenever he applies more pressure. You insist it helps though, and seeing as you like to lay on your side, he’s glad to help to make it bearable. He’ll continue until the fever subsides and the pain eases with it. He knows you’ll ask him to continue reading to you even then, and maybe he will if you’re good.

Mingyu ❧ His lips are better and more reliable than any thermometer. Mingyu can tell by a forehead kiss alone that you’re a bit feverish, and pouts when you don’t trust him. Like a machine would know your body better than him. When you wake up, it’s morning already. You don’t remember falling asleep, but you’re drenched with cold sweat and near delirious with fever. Your boyfriend diligently helps you sit up and take the medicine he has prepared already - after forcing you to eat a few crackers so the medicine doesn’t upset your stomach. He calls your boss for you after making sure you’re asleep again, having already turned off your alarm. He opens the window and cuddles you under the blanket to make up for the cold air. He knows you won’t like it, so he tries to make up for the necessary evil. He will clean up later when your sleep is deeper - he doesn’t want you to feel like you’re behind on chores. Every bitterness he makes up for with sweetness, anything you crave. His arms are opened for you, his lips always available. Mingyu isn’t afraid of getting sick himself if it means being there for you.

Seokmin ❧ He’s at a loss for words, so he just smiles and nods. You don’t seem to mind, babbling on, sulkily, about why urchins would be cute pets, about the little hats you’d put on them. Seokmin knows better than to argue with you when you’re sick. The last thing he wants to do is to make you upset. He suggests a miniature of his whale hat and he finally gets to see you smile. You squirm in excitement at finally being heard, so he has to remind you to stay still. Your nose is all red and cracked, rubbed raw by the dozens of tissues. He helps you apply lotion on it now that it seems like your nose stopped running. You finally settle when he promises he’ll figure out a way to get all the small hats you came up with, even though you’ll forget about your great plans for your army of urchins once you take a nap. He’ll write it down later, however, to laugh about it with you when you’re feeling well again. The list is ever growing. Naming your future pets misspelled names of his friends. Deep frying ice cream… Maybe he’ll try that one with you as a celebration when you beat the sickness.

Seungkwan ❧ He tsks again and immediately follows up with an apology in a much softer tone when you wince in pain. Seungkwan might have underestimated how sick you were and now he blames himself for it, but then again you sounded fine on the phone. You’re anything but fine, actually, and he drops the spoon back into the bowl in defeat. The silver lining is that all the three meals you can hold down are simple enough for him to prepare. What’s worse is that you’re eating nowhere near enough to get your strength back. He pleads with you for just five more spoons, just that. You look like he’s forcing the food down your throat. Four and the vitamins, then. It’s a tough bargain, but he wins eventually. For every spoon he makes sure to kiss and praise you, slipping the vitamin pills one by one on the top of each bite to be efficient. You seem like you’ll fall right asleep once he lets you lie down. He still isn’t satisfied with you not finishing your meal, but he knows you’re trying. Seungkwan remains sitting on the bed, watching over you until you wake up.

Vernon ❧ Nothing really makes sense but Vernon’s voice. The world must be spinning at a breakneck speed, but you’re well anchored with your head on his lap. He knew it was bad when you asked if he could stay somewhere else, and so he’s glad he came. Just like anything else, getting better is a process made easy if you follow instructions, and he will make sure you do. He keeps track of it for you, because he isn’t even sure if you realize it’s been hours since he came and it’s already dark outside. And you’re not complaining that you don’t understand what he’s saying at all - which he does on purpose to test you. So he asks you a trick question, you’d pick the bear over me right?, and laughs when you happily hum a yes. Maybe he should take some videos of you to laugh at later. You’d appreciate it you too, he thinks. But he really can’t when you look so pathetic, curled to stay as close to him as you can. Vernon is really fine with it even if it��s inconvenient. Even if you don’t really listen to him. It helps him sort out the mess in his head to just keep rambling. If you overhear and remember, that’s also fine. Everything is okay if it’s you.

Chan ❧ It’s not funny when you tell him that the flowers look half-dead just like you. Not funny at all, and he reminds you that you’re just suffering from a bad cold - you’re not dying. You muster your remaining strength to smile and reassure him that indeed, you’ll be fine. He puts the flowers next to your bed. They no longer carry scent so they don’t overwhelm your senses and you know that’s what Chan was going for. Despite your joke, they’re still very beautiful. You thank him for them when he comes back with soup, feeding you spoon after spoon while doing his best to pretend like you’re on a first date, getting to know each other. The fever makes it easier to fall for the illusion, but you know the love is real. Acting like he’s pulling out a box of chocolates, Chan pops the medicine into your hand. He treats tucking you in after you take them like you’re parting in front of your door, settling for a chaste kiss to your forehead. He stays until you fall asleep, as if waiting for you to disappear into the safety of your home.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #54 - Too Jealous]

“When you are way too jealous because of another woman.”

Genre: married life!AU, slight Angst, Smut

Warnings: jealousy, husband stealing women trying to get with Kook, while he is the most loyal puppy husband ever, insecurities, a fight because of her jealousy, but they make up <3, please he is so cute i couldn't be mad at him, subbiest!Jungkook, Domme!Reader, he wears bondage gear, and used eyeliner to write her name on his body, chastity cage, marking through hickeys & biting, subby boy tears, omfg he is such a cutie crybaby <3, nipple play & sucking, wearing of a buttplug, have i mentioned that he cries a lot? <3, very passionate sex in cowgirl position, where he is tied to the bed and whines and cries and is subbyyyy, he breaks the bed but stays put cause he is a good boy, choking, dirty talk, possessive talk, creampie, use of a vibrator, one quick face sitting for her please, he loves eating her out <3, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), forced orgasm through overstimulation with the vibrator, where she makes him cum so hard that he squirts <3, gentle aftercare, they're deeply in love and this is actually softer than the warnings may make it seem, bruh i need to recover from this

Wordcount: 7.8k

a/n: listen. it would be unrealistic to create ogc!koo and not have women want him left and right. of course our queen OC feels threatened sometimes (she doesn't have to, he is her loyal puppy fr) and i NEEDED to write this like i fucking NEEDED this on my blog i just *sigh* i love subby crybaby!koo so much :( ALSO! i decided to include anonie's dream from some time ago heheh 🧡

Jungkook is without a doubt the most attractive, most handsome, sexiest and hottest man ever. This is not an exaggeration but the truth. He is drop-dead, insanely gorgeous. He has the perfect body and knows what clothes to wear to really show it off. His tattoos are so well done and perfectly fit his body. His face is quite frankly to die for, his hair is always perfect and to make it even worse, he always smells so good. Because he is Jungkook, it also means that the perfection doesn’t stop at his looks. He is perfect inside as well. His heart is kind and gentle, he cares, he is funny, he is witty and he actually respects women. He is also way too talented and overall a good person. And he never ever brags about being basically perfect (which he is) because he is humble above all.

In short, Jeon Jungkook is the most attractive, perfect man ever. And because he is, it means that you, as his wife, have way too much competition. Not that Jungkook actually sees any of this competition because his love-drunk puppy eyes have solely been fixed on you for years and they plan on staying this way. Yes, he is bloody loyal too. What a perfect fucking man he is. He is loyal and therefore blind to the competition, but you are aware of the competition. You can distinguish between a naturally friendly woman and a woman who is only that way because she wants to get with him. And Jungkook gets a lot of these women as his customers. You can’t blame them for swooning over him – whenever he tattoos you, you can’t stop staring either – but there are the kinds of women who still want to try to seduce him even after finding out that he is married. And because Jungkook doesn’t actually care for their attention, he is also not really aware that they keep coming back for more tattoos just so they could be touched by him or stare at him. Most of these women finally give up when they actually see you, but there is this one specific woman who seems hellbent on stealing Jungkook from you and she is currently at his studio again.

“___?” 

You turn your head to the left at the sound of your employee’s voice.

“Yes, Katy?” 

“Are you alright? You’ve been staring at Jungkook’s studio for fifteen minutes now.”

“I have?”

Katy nods her head, “did you guys have a fight?”

“No, but she is back.”

“Ooooh”, Katy realises, “Ariana?”

“Yeah…her”, you grumble, tensing your jaw.

“Again? Didn’t he literally talk about your wedding last time?”

“He did.”

“And didn’t he say that she had a boyfriend too?”

“He did.” You squint your eyes. “Stupid bitch, I bet she is currently looking at his tits and arms. God.” You stomp your foot like a stubborn child. “Why does he have to have such massive tits and arms?” you whine to which Katy laughs.

“You’re literally so jealous, it’s insane.”

“Yeah I am. He is so gorgeous and some women just don’t get that he is mine.” 

Katy pats your shoulder in soothing. 

“There, there. I bet he is not even giving her a first thought or a second or a third.”

“I hope he isn’t. Otherwise, divorce.”

Katy belts a laugh.

“You’re being so dramatic. Jungkook would already start crying if he so much as thought about the hypothetical of cheating on you.”

“I guess.” You send the studio one last glare then sadly have to leave your brooding position to tend to some customer with Katy. 

A little over an hour passes like this, then the restaurant calms down again and you glare. 

Katy, who notices, pats your shoulder again.

“Still not over it?”

“She hasn’t left yet.”

“Maybe it’s a bigger tattoo?”

“She never gets big tattoos because it means that she can come back as often as possible.”

“Wow okay, very scheming indeed.”

“Yes, very. I bet she is one of those women who get off on stealing taken men. You know what? I’m going over there.”

“For what reason?”

“I don’t know. Bringing coffee”, you say and grab one of the coffee jugs and two mugs. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Good luck, queen”, Katy calls after you, smiling fondly. It’s kind of cute how jealous you can be when there is truly nothing to worry about.

You see them from outside. They are in the front of the shop, hugging. Jungkook doesn’t touch her, keeping at least five inches of distance between his arms and her body while she is slung around him with her face in his neck as if she wanted to literally crawl into him. Judging by his widened eyes, he was not expecting this hug.

It you didn’t carry a jug full of hot coffee, you would have literally kicked the door in.

But instead you open it with a happy “yuhu” on your lips, following it up with a “I bring coffee, my darling.” 

“Oh, sweetie”, Jungkook says, stepping back to escape the hug.

The wannabe home wrecker lets go of Your husband and takes a step back, studying you from head to toe judgingly. You place the coffee pot on the counter and hug Jungkook. He hugs you back instantly, rubbing the small of your back and kissing the side of your neck gently.

“Hey.”

“Hey there, my hubby”, you say and place multiple kisses on his neck and jawline. Then you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull his face down into a deep, passionate kiss. The kind of kiss which lasts way too long and is way too intimate. You end the entire show with a squeeze of his butt and a goofy grin.

“I missed you today, my hubby bubby sweetie. I kept thinking about the amazing head you gave me this morning and how you kept telling me that you’ll always be mine.”

Jungkook is gawking at you with his mouth wide open. What you said wasn’t a lie because he actually did do that, but you are normally not exposing stuff like this to the public. Or kissing him like this as a matter of fact.

You cuddle into him, hugging his arm and shifting your eyes to the glaring woman in front of you.

“Oh sorry. I didn’t even see you there. Who are you?” You look at Jungkook. “Shoot, did I just expose us to one of your customers, darling? I’m sorry.”

“It’s uh…” Jungkook’s cheeks are bright red. “Forgive me Miss Grand, this is my wife- eek.” He squeaks and tenses up when you grab his butt unapologetically. “Sorry uhm, thanks for uhm coming for the tattoo today. Uhm, don’t forget to do proper aftercare on it and to use the cream I recommended you.”

The home wrecker is flabbergasted for a moment, but then catches herself quickly. She actually tries to shoot her shot in front of you. She steps closer with the plan of hugging him again. 

You are in front of him instantly, staring her down like a lioness one second away from ripping apart her prey.

“You think I’m being funny?” You hiss. “I’ve been friendly with you up until now. Understood?”

Jungkook stays quiet for his own sake, but holds your hand and gawks at you with widened eyes. This is the first time he sees you like this. 

The home wrecker finally gets the message and scrunches her nose.

“I’ll see you soon again, Jungkookie”, she coos and leaves with a flick of her hair. 

The door slams closed. You stay glaring for a few more seconds then turn around. Jungkook blinks his eyes at you in confusion.

“You can’t stop thinking about the head I gave you this morning? Really?” he asks, cocking his brow up in question.

“Whatever. I was trying to say the most possessive thing ever”, you grumble, making your way to the coffee pot.

“Possessive?” Jungkook follows you with his eyes. He suddenly gasps. “Wait! Are you jealous?”

“What? No? I was trying to send a message.”

“Send a message about what?”

“That you’re married.”

“I think she knows. I talk about you constantly.”

You can’t help but smile. He is actually so sweet.

“I don’t think she cared. Now she actually knows that I exist and that I’ll fight. She’ll think twice about hitting on you again.”

“Aw baby, you are jealous.”

“Yes I am. You don’t get it. You’re so perfect and handsome and you sometimes don’t see how other women look at you, but I do. I see all of it”, you hiss at him, sending him such a deathly glare that Jungkook is actually taken aback for a moment.

“No baby, don’t even worry about them. I don’t care about how they look at me, I just wanna look at you”, he says, touching your hips. He flutters his lashes at you, smiling extremely cutely. 

“Then refuse service to Miss Grand.”

“What?”

“You heard me. She is trying to steal you from me.”

Jungkook scoffs, “let her try, I don’t care about her.”

“No, you don’t get it, I-”

A customer interrupts you and him. 

“Oh? Sorry for the disturbance, I didn’t know that you had another customer”, he says, looking sorry.

Jungkook studies your face with guilty eyes for one more second then sadly has to look away. He forces a customer service smile to his face.

“Don’t worry Duke, you’re on time. That’s my wonderful wife ___, she is running the restaurant over there and brought us coffee for our session”, he says, placing his arms over your shoulder to kiss your temple. But you only let him do so halfway then shake yourself free.

“Sorry, works calling again. Hungry people don’t like to wait”, you say. “Good luck with the tattoo.”

You leave the studio and with it a conversation which was definitely not over yet. Jungkook looks after you with sad, guilty eyes until you disappear in the restaurant.

Jungkook leaves the studio at seven like he always does. One more hour and he will drive home with you. He crosses the street and enters the restaurant like he always does. He promised you to stay with you during closing hour to keep you safe from creeps who don’t want to leave. And Jungkook always keeps his promises to you. Especially his marriage promises. He looks for you with a nervously racing heart, but can only find Katy and Joe.

“Are you looking for ___?” Joe asks.

“Yeah, I’m picking her up to drive home together”, he answers him. 

“Damn sorry man, you missed her by about ten minutes.”

“She already went home?”

Joe nods his head.

“Did she say why?”

“Just that she was feeling a little tired tonight.”

Katy joins Joe’s side, staying way too close. You regularly give Jungkook updates about these two. They try to be sneaky about it, but you already figured out that they are secretly dating. Jungkook is always very excited when you give him updates about them during late night cuddles in bed. He feels so sad at the thought right now because he knows that he managed to hurt you today and now there won’t be any updates or cuddles.

“She’s gonna be okay, you know?” Katy says.

Jungkook nods his head, “I hope. I, uhm, Imma go now. Check up on her, you know?”

“Yes, do that.”

“Take care, you two.”

“You too.”

Jungkook drives home with a deep pit of guilt in his stomach. He doesn’t drive straight home, but takes a little detour to a florist to get a huge bouquet of flowers. 

He cradles it like a baby for the rest of the drive home. 

Thankfully, your bike is in the garage and your gear is stored in the closet. Jungkook makes sure that the garage door is closed and then hurries inside. 

Like every night, Bam greets him happily, but Jungkook can only give him attention half-heartedly. He needs to talk to you. 

“Babygirl, I’m home!” 

You don’t answer him. Jungkook discards his keys and swerves past a confused Bam. He checks the kitchen and the living room, both of which are empty. 

“Sweetie, your hubby is back!”

No answer.

He checks the bathroom and the bedroom, then his room. Lastly, he checks your room. 

Bingo.  

You are on your mattress with the television running. 

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere”, he says, hurrying to you. 

He falls to his knees and presents the flowers.

“I’m sorry for today”, he says, bowing his head. 

You glance at him, then the flowers. He got your favourites in your favourite colour and arranged in a heart. You sigh in defeat and turn off the television.

Jungkook lifts his head at the sound, meeting your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m stupid and dumb and a buffoon”, he says apologetically.

You scoff, stifling a smile. He notices it and closes in on you instantly. He tries to kiss your cheek, but you move back.

He sits back on his feet, pouting at you.

“I’m really sorry”, he says.

“I know, I guess you don’t have to be. It’s not like you’re actually entertaining her antics.”

He shakes his head vigorously.

“Never ever. I couldn’t care less about her, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll tell her to look for another tattoo artist.”

“No, it’s okay. I was unreasonable.”

“Well, do you want me to or are you just saying so?”

You hesitate but then shake your head, “it’s okay.” 

Jungkook exhales in defeat. He scoots closer, holding your hand.

“___ baby, I love you and I only want you.”

“I know, thank you for the reassurance and the, uhm, flowers. They’re so cute.”

“Right? I told the florist to make a heart as big as my love for you, but she ran out of flowers before she could match its size.”

He makes you smile. Jungkook hooks onto it, finally leaning in to smooch your cheek. You still pull away however.

“I’m sorry. I need to be alone right now. Is that okay for you?”

“I mean, I’ll definitely feel really guilty the entire time, but I guess if you really need it”, Jungkook says with insecurity in his voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. I’ll make dinner in the meantime, yeah?”

“I brought stuff from the restaurant. I already ate, sorry.”

“Oh, uhm, okay.” Jungkook hesitates, pulling back in insecurity. “Do you still love me?” he asks with sad puppy eyes 

“I still love you, I promise.”

“I love you too. So much, as big as the flower heart. Even bigger.”

You accept the flowers and give him a smile.

“Thank you, Kook.”

He lingers, waiting – hoping – for you to make a move. You linger, waiting for your feelings to make sense to you. You don’t know if you are angry at him. He wouldn’t deserve it because he did nothing wrong and yet it feels as everything is his fault. If he wasn’t that perfect, that handsome and sweet, other women wouldn’t want to rip him from you all the time. Why does he have to be the way he is? You glare at him. Jungkook looks away instantly, shrinking in obvious helplessness.

“Okay then, I’ll be going now.” He says and looks at you hopefully. Maybe you want to say something now. But you only nod your head.

He stands up with a heavy heart, “you’re gonna miss out on couch snuggles, just saying”, he tries, but doesn’t get far. 

He ends up alone for the rest of the evening while you lock yourself away in your room. 

Jungkook tries to distract himself with a show and by taking Bam on a beach walk, but his mind keeps racing with memories of today. If only he did and or said the right thing. It feels like he fucked up everything. You have never been like this before, you never threatened other women or refused his apologies. It feels like the end and it makes Jungkook feel like shit.

When he comes back from his walk with Bam, your door is still closed. Nothing changed. Is this really it for you and him?

Jungkook runs away to the shed in hopes of finding distraction in a workout. Otherwise he would cry on the couch. He is in the middle of punching the punching bag as if it owed him money when he gets is a text message from you. He throws the gloves away and stops the music. He opens them instantly, eventhough he normally always forgets to check his messages. His heart is pounding in his chest to the point he has to sit down from dizziness.

-          Wifey ♡: Today was too much. She called you Jungkookie and hugged you…

-          Jungkook: I know! 😡 So weird!!! 🤢 it happened really fast, I didn’t wanna hug her and she never called me this way before. It’s so icky 🤢

-          Wifey ♡: She’s a bitch… I notice how women look at you and it makes me feel insecure. You’re so attractive and everything about you is so female gaze coded and so many of your customers are trying to take what’s not theirs.

-          Jungkook: I’m so sorry that you feel this way…What do you need right now to feel better again?

-          Wifey ♡: I don’t know. Maybe more effort from you? I’m so unfair to you, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t do anything wrong, but I still can’t be close to you right now. I’m sorry, I don’t know either why that is…

-          Jungkook: I understand, sweetie. Don’t apologise. I’ll give you your space. My offer for couch snuggles still stands whenever you’re ready.

-          Wifey ♡: I know. Thank you. I love you

-          Jungkook: I love you too, my egg :D

-          Wifey ♡: 🙄

-          Jungkook: 😝😂

You don’t text him anything else anymore, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. You gave him a task. More effort. Jungkook will think of the best, most devoted plan ever and literally sweep you off your feet with it. Jungkook spends the rest of his nightly boxing session distracted with making up plans. Once his idea finally comes to him, he abandons the gym instantly, hurrying to get everything ready before you leave your room.

You are a little scared of facing Jungkook again. You sulked for too long. Now it is already midnight and he needed to go to bed alone. You know that he won’t be able to sleep and you are scared of the tired, sleepy begs he will give you. But you couldn’t help yourself. You felt so insecure today and looking at his perfect face taunted you. 

With a heavy, fearful heart, you open the bedroom. You come to a halt, barely managing to close to door and then your mouth falls open. 

Jungkook is kneeling on the floor by the foot end of the bed. He is wearing a black leather collar on which a thick silver chain is attached. Said chain connects to a pair of matching leather handcuffs. Another set of chains connects these with ankle cuffs. He has his head lowered and is completely naked. The only thing keeping his dick modest is a chastity cage. 

The view is doing wonders. But what truly seals the deal are the markings he put on his own body. With the help of his black eyeliner, he wrote your name on different spots on his body. Under his nipples, all over his neck, right above his caged cock, along his arms, all over his thighs and his stomach.

“What’s that?” you gasp. 

Jungkook lifts his head. He also marked his face for you.

“I’m sorry for being a bad devotee, my queen wife. I didn’t manage to show you the proper amount of devotion. My flesh and soul are yours to break tonight.”

You gulp. Just now, your eyes managed to brush over the array of sextoys he laid out on bed behind him. Impact play toys, cock toys, anal toys, nipple toys. He is giving you full and sole authority over his body right now and how it is supposed to experience pleasure. 

Jungkook bows until his forehead rests against the wooden floor. The chains jingle as he moves.

“Please allow me to show you my devotion, my queen wife. I promise to take whatever you deem fit.” 

The sight, his actions, the indications are all indecently sexy and hot but you still melt in fondness. First the flower heart and now this. You never doubted his love for you, but you doubted your own ability to keep him with you. This right here feels so good to experience. 

You close the distance. 

“Look at me.”

Jungkook lifts his head, gazing up at you like a believer seeing his beloved goddess. You take his chin between your fingers. He sighs, leaning into the touch. 

“Those are some pretty letters you put on there.”

“They are the only letters which matter to me because they spell your name, my queen wife.”

“Oh my god”, you let out. “God Kookie…” You kneel down in front of him and kiss him.

Jungkook moans like a sinner finding resolution, tilting his head to deepen the kiss while his cuffed hands stay on his thighs, balling to fists.

“God fuck, Kook”, you get out, breaking the kiss.

Jungkook sighs, chasing you with half-lidded eyes. But another kiss doesn’t come. You move back, cradling his cheeks. Your eyes are a little glassy.

“I’m sorry for how I acted tonight”, you say.

He shakes his head, “don’t talk about this right now, my love. Just take it out on me.”

You smile without showing teeth, sniffling a little. Jungkook leans into your touch, gazing at you.

“If that’s what you want. If the idea is stupid, we can just cuddle and talk instead.”

“No. No cuddles. This idea is perfect”, you say, squishing his cheeks to the point where his lips stick out.

“Okay”, he mumbles with pouted lips, fluttering his lashes at you.

“Good.” You let go of his face. Ghosting your fingertips down his torso.

Jungkook chases your touch with shivers and sighs, gazing at you.

“Look at you. All of that is mine.”

“Everything. All of it”, Jungkook agrees, shivering especially deep when you feel up his thighs. He is so sensitive there.

“You know that you’re perfect? That you’re literally the most attractive man ever?”

“I am?”

“Mhm and it makes me furious sometimes ‘cause I have to fight stupid leeches left and right.”

“The only leech I want sucking my blood is you.”

You laugh. He laughs as well.

“So I’m a leech now?”

“Yeah, but you’re my leech. Just like you’re my egg.”

You push at him gently, “shut up, you’re the egg here.”

He grins cutely, cheek sticking out from it. You squish it and give it a kiss. Jungkook leans into it, wiggling his wrists and making the chains jingle. 

You drop your hands to them, following them until you can intertwine your fingers with him. He squeezes you eagerly, gazing at you.

So now you are kneeling on the floor, facing each other while the bad day is left outside the door.

“We’re gonna be so tired tomorrow”, you say.

“Yeah, it’s worth it. I could spend forever in your arms.”

“Oh Kook”, you lower your head and sniffle. 

“What’s the matter? Talk to me, my love”, he asks you in a caring voice.

“I just feel bad because I pushed you away.” 

“Don’t. I get it. Jealousy can make one act really out of character.” 

“Yeah”, you agree and lift his hands to kiss his knuckles. The chains jingle and he gasps softly. You linger on his wedding band for especially long, memorising the way it sits around his finger eternally and like it was meant to be there. 

“Wanna make up for it”, you say.

“You don’t have to”, he assures you, despite secretly soaking up the affection and wishing for it to last forever.

“No. I do. I really do”, you say and kiss each of his fingers, “mine.”

“Yours. Forever.”

You guide his constricted arms behind your head next so he is holding you. Like this, you close the distance, releasing a sigh of relief the second you melt against his chest. You hide your face in the crook of his neck and bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook closes his eyes, hugging you back as best as his constricted state allows.

“This isn’t right”, you murmur and fumble with the chains. They fall from the ring of the choker, next the choker itself falls off and your face can finally touch his neck. 

You inhale and exhale, “yes. This.” 

Jungkook quite frankly has to fight tears. He expected you to be a little mean to him, but not this. You are so tender and the hug feels so healing. Jungkook has a hard time not sobbing into your shoulder miserably. 

It becomes almost impossible when you begin kissing his neck and quite frankly becomes impossible once you leave your first hickey.

The sensation soaks so deep into his fibers. It feels so good tonight.

“Oh god”, he gets out, rolling his head back and whimpering your name.

You claim his newly exposed neck gladly, starting your heart-fixing task of marking him. Some kisses here and some hickeys there. Jungkook gasps and whimpers with each of them, while you feel more and more reconnected with him.

Your hands touch him everywhere. His arms, his waist, his shoulders and back. But the most favourite spot is when you suck a hickey on his skin and you get to cradle the other side of his neck. It feels so deeply possessive yet gentle.

Jungkook finally breaks when you draw a little heart on his skin. 

“Oh god”, he chokes out and hiccups a few sad sniffles. His constricted hands fall to his face, covering his eyes as best as possible.

You lift your head, looking at him worriedly. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Sorry, today was a lot”, he gets out, trying to mask his sob with a cough. 

“Hey, Googie”, you gasp, pulling his hands away to check on him, “talk to me.”

“I would never cheat on you. I-I’m so angry at myself because I made you feel like I would.” 

“Fuck, no you didn’t. Fuck Googie, come here.” 

You hug him, Jungkook hugs you back as best as possible. He sniffles into your shoulder, but doesn’t need to spill new tears.

“I know you wouldn’t cheat, please don’t be angry at yourself.”

“So you know that I’m loyal?” he mumbles with a pout.

“I do”, you assure him, scratching him behind his ear soothingly.

“Thank god”, Jungkook sighs, melting into you.

“You know, Katy said that you would literally cry if you as much as thought about cheating on me and it seems that she was right.”

“I could never cheat”, he shakes his head, “I love you so much.” 

“I know, Googie I know. I love you too. God, let’s just…let’s get on bed, where it’s more comfortable.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You swipe the toys to the side and push Jungkook onto his back. He lets you gladly, writhing with his eyes halfway closed and his cheeks flushed.

You open the ankle cuffs and chain, taking them off. The new freedom is taken by Jungkook instantly. He uses it to dig his heels into the mattress and open his legs.

Everything about his movements lets you know that he is riding it too. This wave of deep connection. It is as if your souls and energies are forming one synergy. You heal and in the process heal him. He heals and in the process heals you. This right now is one moment of utter connection.

You take off your pyjamas and sit down next to his hips. You cup his cheek, calling his attention. 

Jungkook looks at you and whimpers. His poor constrained cock wants to twitch but can’t. It hurts, forcing a pained whimper out of him and a tortured squirm of his hips to run through him. 

“You’re beautiful”, he whispers, reaching for you with constricted hands. 

“Thank you. You’re beautiful too”, you say and close the distance. You roll on top of him and let him put his arms around you. You rest above his caged cock, head sinking into the pillow next to him and lips brushing his neck. 

Like this, you enjoy each other how nature intended it. Naked skin against naked skin, hearts beating in sync and body warmths becoming one. 

“This is heaven”, he mumbles, nuzzling his nose against you.

“Yeah, it is”, you agree, getting lost in his scent.

The clock shows thirty past midnight by now. You and he are both so sleepy already, exhausted from a bad day and so ready for sleep. Neither of you want to fall asleep however, forcing your bodies to keep moving. 

You keep you and him awake by beginning a journey to his cock. You suck hickeys all over his chest and stomach next to the letters he wrote, making Jungkook feel so fucking good that he has to twist the pillow once you reach his cock.

You shove his legs apart gently and do what drives Jungkook crazy. You leave hickeys on his inner thighs, which feels nice but which feels miniscule once you begin leaving bite marks instead. Jungkook whines so agonised that it borders cute little sobs. It feels so good but he can’t enjoy it freely.

The cage hurts. It is made of metal and digs into his erection painfully. It hurts so much. 

You aren’t making it better by licking him over the cage. Warmth and wetness, the little spots which are bulging out between the cage elements get a feel of your soft tongue as well. 

Jungkook begs. Of course he begs. Jungkook is such a natural at begging.

“Please. Hurts. Please, no more.” 

“Keys?” the word tickles him, increasing his agony. 

Jungkook mewls and lifts his hips. Your eyes flit to his hole. Stuffed with a purple plug. 

“Are you serious?” you gasp.

“Yeah. Please.”

“Shit, this is so hot”, you rasp and tug out the toy. 

His sweet hole gives it up groggily, pulsing in emptiness afterwards. He mewls, curling his toes in desperation. You can only take it in halfway, busy with opening the special plug. It is hollow inside and big enough to store a vibrator. On normal nights this is what fills the toy but tonight, Jungkook stuffed the chastity cage keys into it. You can barely fetch them or use them to unlock his cage because your fingers are shaking so much.

To think that he stored his means of freedom inside himself so you can decide when to give it to him. He is so hot and you want him so bad. 

When the cage finally unlocks, you work quickly to get it off of him, throwing it to the side once you did. 

Jungkook sobs, rolling his hips up. His poor cock finally springs into its natural position, it is purple and bruised at first but flushes more and more the longer he is free. You soothe it by rubbing him with two hands.

Jungkook moans your name, arching off the sheets. His tip flushes, leaking uncontrollably. It feels hot between your fingers as you massage it from both sides.

Your name leaves him again, as a mewled stutter this time around. He has to repeat each of your vowels twice before he finally manages to get it out. He must be so sensitive right now.

“I could fucking pass out right now. I need you so bad”, you say, rubbing your pussy on his thigh unapologetically. The friction is all that keeps you sane. The knowledge that you smear yourself all over his skin is doing the rest.

“Fuck me. Please”, he begs, throbbing and pulsing in your hands. He is leaking so much, unable to stop.

“I will. I fucking will”, you say and climb off his lap. 

Jungkook doesn’t get it, whimpering your name.

“Please.”

“I will, just…need to do this”, you say and take his wrists to guide them above his head. You pick up the chain and shuffle up his body so you can fix the chain on the headboard. You installed your very own hidden hooks for it. They come in handy as you fix him into place. 

Speaking of places, you accidentally picked out the sexiest place to tie him down. Right above his face and you aren’t even noticing it. 

Jungkook makes sure that you notice by lifting his head and connecting his mouth with your pussy.

“Woah”, you gasp, dropping the chain to grip the headboard. You catch yourself at the last moment from sitting down on his face, but you can’t stop the trembles coursing through your legs. 

Jungkook mewls, flicking and swirling his tongue eagerly. You taste so good tonight. You always do, but tonight it hits different. It brings him back to a better reality. A reality where he gets to love you without insecurities nagging at you. A reality where he is your husband and you know what this means. And a reality where his tongue still manages to make you arch your back and moan his name as you clench around nothing.

In this perfect reality this would have continued until he made you climax, but you deny him. You lift yourself and pick up the chains again, securing them on the hooks as quickly as possible just so you can shimmy down again. 

Jungkook feels empty until you give him something else by kissing him deeply. His instincts tell him to sling his arms around you, but the chains hold him back.

He whimpers, destined to kiss you without hugging you while you slowly touch him. The agony becomes especially unbearable when you finally sink him into your warmth. 

He rips his eyes open, moaning into your mouth but it sounds more like gurgled whimpers. You break the kiss, looking at him for those last few inches. 

“Can you feel this?”

“Yeah, it feels so good”, he gets out, spilling tears. He is such a crybaby when you get him subby enough.

“Mhm, it does. Means we’re one. Right?”

“One. We’re one. ___ baby, I love you”, he gets out and sobs in sync with you bottoming out and picking up a rhythm. 

He tugs on the chains again, voice turning from a sob to a moan and head rolling to the side. He squeezes his eyes shut, opening his mouth and furrowing his brows. The hickeys look so pretty on his neck and tears fit his face so well. 

Your heart pounds and dances as you ride him because you are so happy and in love. Jungkook is the perfect man and he is yours. You don’t know what wondrous deeds you did in your previous life to deserve so much luck, but you are eternally grateful. 

“Mine. You’re mine”, you chant, closing your fingers around his throat to cut off his blood flow. 

Jungkook fights the chains, wanting to grasp your arms and force you closer to his neck. He can’t. He has to fight the chains and take the very passionate ride.

“Yours. Yours. Yours”, he keeps chanting, filling the silence up with moans and little sobs as you drive him to the brink of madness.

“Mine, yeah. Fuck, I need more”, you say and sit down on him. You slide your hands from his neck and look behind yourself.  

Jungkook watches you, filling your pussy with his precum as his cock can’t seem to stop throbbing. It hurts to only be warmed. He wants you to bounce on him again. It feels so good when you do because you are so tight and warm and his cock gets jerked off so heavenly. Please he wants you to move and to choke him and to move and, and, and. This is all he needs. Great sex and intense pleasure. 

“There.”

You make his agony unbearable by climbing off him so you could get the toy you spotted.

“Please”, he begs in a shaky whisper, staring at your exposed pussy and ass longingly. You are glistening and look just a little stretched open from his cock. You are also so puffy and look so, so soft. 

He wiggles the chains, whispering your name, “please, it hurts.”

Luckily for him, you return quickly and sink him back inside even quicker.

Jungkook moans, swelling inside you happily. His eyes roll back and close, his back arches.

“You’re too needy”, you tease.

“I love you”, he argues and you have nothing to say to that. 

He is so sweet, making you smile and pick up a rhythm again.

“I love you too, you egg”, you say, rubbing his tummy as you ride his perfect cock to pure ecstasy. The black eyeliner has smeared by now, sitting on his skin messy and unintelligible. It also spread to your skin, deepening the eternal connection you and he have. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous”, you moan, slamming down on him especially hard.

Jungkook mewls, tugging on the chains and curling his toes. His submission drips from each of his blissed moans. How flushed his face is, how messy his hair sticks to it.

The knowledge that you are the only fucking person who gets to see him like this makes you feel so good. The thought that you are also the only person who he allows to be close in such sinful ways does the rest. 

His cock never felt better inside you, giving you pleasure so deep that you feel like floating. And you want more, shifting the toy you got into place.

His eyes are closed so the low hum of the vibrator turning on comes as a surprise to him. Just as the sensations do. The friction of your tightening walls hit him first, the subtle vibrations tickle him next.

Jungkook screams and tugs especially roughly. A dangerous crack follows and suddenly the chains fall from the headboard together with the hook. 

“Did you?” you slow down, staring in shock. He broke the bed.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t stop, please I’ll stay put! Please don’t stop!” he begs, keeping his hands above his head.

“Holy fuck, you’re so damn sexy tonight”, you growl and pick up the rhythm again. You press the vibrator closer to your clit, resting your empty hand on his thigh so you can ride him like there was no tomorrow. 

Skin slaps against skin, wet squelching and slurping joins it and the bed keeps creaking. Jungkook’s endless moans and helpless gasps for air almost overshadow the other sounds.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you”, he keeps chanting, looking so pretty as he takes the ride.

It is almost one in the morning. You and he are delirious in sleepiness, heads dizzy and drugged up from sex. This is so intense that it is soaking into the deepest parts of your souls.

“Fuck. Your moans”, you get out, hips stuttering.

Moving becomes difficult. Not only are you exhausted, but you are also insanely close to an orgasm. He drives you insane with his noises.

You drop to the front, slamming your hand down on his constricted wrists and burying his face in your tits.

“Gotta shut you up for a moment, otherwise I’ll pass out”, you say.

Jungkook sobs, sucking on your nipples respectively. He drools, he slurps, he cries. Your nipples have never felt more appreciated than they do right now and it is going to make you climax.

“Shit, this is…urgh Kook. Now”, your warning is useless because it still surprises him. 

He muffles his yelp in your chest, fighting your hand because he wants to hug you. You won’t let him yet, needing the support to ride out your high. You moan his name and become a new person.

“Jesus fuck, woah Kook. Ah Kook, holy fuck. Googie baby…”

And Jungkook sobs, head dizzy and air sparse. He is so close. Your orgasmic convulses feel so good around his cock. The vibrations are so intense.

You are tighter after your high, wetter and hotter too. Jungkook is almost at the peak of what he can take. He thinks that he can’t take much more. And then you straighten up. You slide your hand to his nipples to play with them and Jungkook genuinely sobs like the subby crybaby he currently feels like. You stick the vibrator between his legs so it stimulates his rim and parts of his balls. 

Jungkook was right. He can’t take much more.

“Please stop! I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me, show me who gets you so high”, you allow him, rubbing the vibrator on his sensitive hole and pinching his nipple.

Jungkook wails, kicking the mattress and arching his back.

“___!”

He almost throws you off from how aggressively he bucks his hips up, but you are used to his wild side. You know how to ride the little beast that is your husband when pleasure really controls him. You slam your hips down, rendering him useless as you intensify his orgasm tenfold. 

Jungkook cries real tears once it stops. He begs and begs and begs. 

“Please no more. Please, it hurts. Please, sensitive. Please stop.”

And you listen. Well, in your own sadistic ways. You slip off his cock but give him no break. You press the vibrator against his frenulum and squeeze down on his lower stomach.

“Please, hurts. Please, oh god please”, he sobs and coughs, writhing and kicking helplessly as you overstimulate him. You are hovering above his shaky legs, leaking the thick creampie he stored inside you. What a shame that you are leaking, but it is for the greater good. Like this, you can torture him and overstimulate him until he gives you what you crave.

And because it is Jungkook and tonight left him so fucking ruined, it doesn’t take him long to reach it. Another orgasm. So much more intense and slightly painful it hits him. The pressure you have on his bladder decides his fate. He squirts what he held inside, ruining his tensed stomach and the sheets. 

He keeps begging the entire time to please make it stop, to please know that he is sorry, to please be gentler. But he doesn’t get it as he orgasms, of course he doesn’t. You want him dry and empty with the knowledge that he will only find pleasure like this with you burned into his mind. This is your way of making sure he is corrupted and loyal to you like a starved man wanting more food.

“Please I’m dizzy, please” he begs, crying miserably. What a cute crybaby he is.

The gentleness comes after when you turn off the toy and throw it to the side, when you wipe the orgasm from his stomach and open the handcuffs. And then you hug him and he finally gets to hug you back, sobbing into your chest as his entire body trembles from what just happened.

“Oh god, oh my god.”

“I’m here. Let it out”, you assure him, holding him close as he pours out his vulnerable heart. 

It is some time past one when he finally calmed down.

“Oh god”, he gets out, shuddering. 

“Do you feel better?” 

“Do you love me again?”

“What? Gosh Googie, of course I do. I never stopped loving you.”

“Then I feel better”, he whispers and hugs you closer, “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I feel so fucking vulnerable. Oh god, everything is sore and, and warm.”

“Yeah, this was pretty intense. You did really well.”

“I just feel so good when I’m with you”, he presses out and looks up at you. His eyes are devoted and glassy.

“I feel good too, my love.” 

He smiles and you smile too, wiping the remnants of his tears.

“Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Googie.”

“Oh god”, he giggles, kicking his feet, “I feel so good.” 

“Mhm that’s good. Wanna talk about the broken headboard now? You felt a little too good there, didn’t you?” you tease him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break it. You made me feel so good and I couldn’t control my strength. Just wanted to hold you.”

“Mmh, it’s okay. It’s kinda funny.” You snicker and scrunch your nose. “And hot. My strong hubby.” 

Jungkook giggles, heart fluttering. 

“Yeah, yours. Your hubby. Yours. I love you”, he gets out, heart fluttering even more when you retort it.

“I love you too.”

“And you know that I’m yours?”

“Yes Googie, I do. You’re mine and I’m yours.” “Yeah, forever.”

You and he share a giddy kiss and get comfortable. You slip under his blanket and pull your pillow closer so you can stay on his side. The reason for your minimised space is the huge wet spot Jungkook left on your side. 

“Sorry for dirtying the bed”, he murmurs. 

“Is okay. It’s ruined anyway. I think we smeared your eyeliner everywhere.”

He giggles and hugs you closer, nuzzling his nose against you. You snicker, melting into him.

“Did you like it? I planned it really well”, he fishes for praise.

“I loved it. You look so sexy with my name on your body”, you give him the praise, sending his heart into overdrive, “thank you for your efforts, I really cherish them.”

“Anything for you”, he squeaks out, close to bursting in giddiness. He did enough! You felt his efforts and loved them! Oh, he will fly and dance and sing in his dreams tonight.

You and he are so tired, sleep is just an arm’s length away. Silence would be the most logical thing to share, but Jungkook still has something else to share.

“Do you wanna know something?”

“Yes, tell me.”

“Katy and Joe were really close today when I came over after work. They were this close to holding hands, I think.”

“Oh my god, this is so exciting. I’m telling you, it’s gonna happen this week. They’re gonna hold hands.”

Jungkook agrees with a little excited squeak and a nod of his head. You and he share giggles, nuzzling into each other giddily. You and he feel so good. Not only did you have amazing sex right now and made each other feel like heaven, you even got to have your daily late night snuggles talks.

This is the best ending to an otherwise bad day. Even if you wake up deadly tired the next day. Totally worth it.

[wingedhallows]

pairing: vi x reader | 1k words plot: violet does not appreciate when a guy touches what's hers authors note: this is messy and my very first vi work, send help

navigation

“I love how you smell” violet muses against your skin as you sit perched on her lap. The sweet words this woman whispers to you makes your chest all fuzzy and warm and you couldn’t complain.

You hum softly, leaning back against her and her strong arms sneak around your waist. She loves having you in her lap, absolutely adores it. Her hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt, the skin beneath warm and smooth. 

“You two make me sick” Ellie makes a gagging noise and throws back her beer. “Get a room, mh?” Abby laughs and passes the joint to a girl beside her.

Damn jocks, a sweet moment and these brawly hockey players yap about it to no end.

“Fuck off” Violet laughs and nuzzles her face into your neck. Oh, how you loved her so close, so warm around you.

You place a hand over hers and grab your drink, you’re way too sober for this. These frat parties would be the last thing on a friday night for you if it weren’t for Vi, the star player and your adoring girlfriend.

You set your cup down and pat Vi’s arm. “I’ll get us another drink, what’d you want, baby?” She places a kiss to your jaw and hum’s

“A beer, love. Hurry back, yeah.” Her voice rich and husky in your ear. With a small smile you get up from her lap and walk into the kitchen, not without Vi giving your arse a playful smack, of course.

Vi’s eyes follow you, her gaze stuck on your bum in that sin of a skirt. She’d eat you up right then and there, god have mercy on her.

“Mate, you’re drooling.” Ellie snickered beside her and she cracked a smirk.

“How can I not when I've got a girl like her?” and she meant it, you were the hottest girl around, not even Cait could hold a candle to you.

And christ, she really wanted to lift that skirt and ravish you over that counter.

Ellie snorts and rolls her eyes, you were hot, that’s no secret. “We get it, you bagged the hottest of them all.” her voice exasperated as she nudged Vi.

Her eyes snap back to you, so pretty by the counter and utterly her’s. She adjusts her pants, just the sight of you makes her slick.

 Her eyes follow you as you pour a drink for yourself and pop open the bottle of the beer with a lighter, god how can you be so so hot?

Her smirk falters as she takes notice of a guy behind you, his eyes peering at your arse like you didn’t belong to her. Alright, that sounded big headed, yes.

But, to her defense, everyone knew you were her girl, so why did that prick feel the need to approach you?

Vi’s eyes narrow as she watches the guy reach his hand and touch you, a ugly soaring fire spreads in her chest as she gets up.

She can't put her finger on it but, rage? Maybe even fury. Her fists clench and her arms flex, the anger like gasoline to the fire within her.

You don’t notice the guy, of course you don’t - you’re preparing a drink for your girlfriend and yourself. The bottle is hard to open and you pray that the trick Vi showed you actually works, so you put the lighter in the edge of the cap- what the actual hell.

You whirl around as a hand, and not your girlfriend’s, touches your behind. The guy stands tall, a good foot above you and you have to lift your head to look at him. “What the fuck?” You bark, shoving the guy back. He gives you a cocky smirk and leans forwards. You notice his teeth sitting crooked and yellowish in his mouth and you have to suppress a gag.

 “Sorry, princess. That ass of yours is too good to pass up on.” Your eyes narrow but, before you can even think, a tip of pink hair appears behind the guy and you pray to god and all his angels that Vi won’t break his neck.

Vi is quick to grab the guy by his neck, slotting a foot in the back of knee. The guy doubles over with a grunt. “I don’t appreciate my girl being harassed” her voice low and threatening as she pushes him down by the neck. 

Ellie and Abby are by her side in an instant, both of them holding the guy by his arms like they’ve practiced this before…they haven’t right?

She doesn’t waste a second before her fist connects with the guy’s face, a sickening crunch reaches your ears and all you manage to do is watch in bewilderment and slight disgust.

You appreciate your girlfriend defending you, of course you did but, she had the tendency to go a little overboard. Just as her fist rises again you step forward and slip a hand onto her bicep. Vi halts her movement and her eyes find yours, expression softening instantly.

“Enough, baby.” Your voice gentle and reassuring. Vi reluctantly lowers her arms and slips her hand in yours.

She gives Ellie and Abby a nod and they let go. “Aw, come on. One more couldn’t hurt.” Ellie pouts, what a psycho.

Vi turns to you, her eyes searching your face. “Are you okay, baby?” You nod as a small smile forms on your lips.

You hand her the beer and grab your own drink before the two of you follow Ellie and Abby back to the couch.

One last disgusted look at the guy hunched over on the wooden floor as Vi pulls you along.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

break up with your boyfriend

Yandere trans!fem cheerleader x fem reader

It was so shittily made but I need to pump out more fics or else my blog will die. Thank you all for 1k followers though! I'll rewrite this in the future maybe

Tw: mentions of blackmailing, nsfw, slight breeding kink, batshit crazy girlfriend,not proofread, another oc mentioned!?🌺

💄Eva saccharine has been your girlfriend since she first started transitioning. You helped her style her hair, do her nails, pick her clothes, find good makeup, anything she needed to feel like the real her. So when freshman year rolled in, it came as no surprise to you she fit right in with the clique.

💐Ofcourse you had your fears she'd choose them over you but that wasn't the case, because she'd make you eat lunch with them and sit on her lap, not so subtly humping your ass while talking all about cheer practice

🛍️boys wanted to date her, girls wanted to be her. She just wanted you, to just be the two baddest bitches on the block. It didn't matter if you were just like her or the complete opposite, she gushed over you. Praising you for being her good girl, her sweet little princess, her obedient pocket pussy-

💄but at this current moment? She was busy bullying your insides, forcing her fat cock into your slippery hole as she held you steady by your waist. Biting and groaning everytime she'd feel you squeeze that certain spot on her dick

"fu-uuckkk.. baby cakes, 'yer squeezin' me so goood.. ah.. hah.. you wouldn't mind if I pumped a few babes into your tight cunny right? Wanna be my baby mama?"

💐that made you squeeze tighter, holding onto the bedsheets for dear life. She had you face down, ass up and damn near breaking your back with how hard she was going. Hearing the normally composed and playful eva turn into a drooling pussy-drunk mess had you feeling butterflies, just going plap play plap-

🛍️let's just say, by the end of it, you couldn't walk for days afterwards. But no amount of hickies and perfume would be able to scare away a rather persistent guy. He was on the football team, star quarterback, rich asshole. sam white. Eva hated his guts, he thinks he can just waltz in and steal her bitch? Not on her watch.

💄this little feud had been going on for a while, and more times than you could count you've been caught in the crossfire. Though it was kinda funny, seeing them screeching insults at eachother and bickering. Eva would sassily flick her blonde hair and grab you by the collar of your neck, Dragging you away while Sam hooted and hollered at your retreating form

💐you never questioned her morbid fascination with anything horror or paranormal related. She was just obsessed with regular girl things. wanting you to help her summon a demon once, but you aren't that stupid, making blood pacts with them could result in very unsavory ending's and you quite cherished your soul and body

🛍️Eva has more than one account on different social medias, pretending to be multiple different people and Stalking your posts. She'd slide into your dms and flirt, seeing if you'd really cheat on her. She's so happy when you instantly block the account, guess you'll survive not being sent to her basement for another week

💄she has the audacity to grab a frilly pink pen and make you wear clothes that purposely shows off what she wrote. In bright bold lettering, Eva's little cum dump ♡ . Maybe she'll let you bring a jacket, only if you beg her really hard with those big doe eyes she loves. She put a collar and leash on you too

💐don't try breaking up with her, she takes 'they go low, I go lower" to another level. Threatening to post pictures of you in rather compromising positions. When did she record all of this? Who knows. She won't refrain from spreading nasty rumors of you that just force you to come sobbing into her arms, if you try and get comfort from somebody else she won't hesitate to eliminate them. Don't you see? She's the final girl, and you're her love Interest

"I told you not to run pretty baby.. now look what you've done. I gotta fix your mess up~.."

moral of the story: be a loyal loving girlfriend and she'll spoil you rotten with her daddy's black card ♥️

[hurtspideyparker]

Peter finds out Tony has never had a slushie, and takes him on a poor person's pleasure tour of New York City. All the sketchy shops and terrible public transport Tony has been too privileged to experience. Peter finds it appalling he calls himself a New Yorker and has never been on the Subway

First stop slushies and slim Jim's—"oh I see it's like a frozen margarita, but with less of the fun stuff and more watermelon diabetes"

They take the F train, which Tony has always avoided because a) safety and b) has private drivers, a dozen cars, and money to spare. He is both alarmed and fascinated, and very, very disgusted

Almost falls over because he refuses to hold the poll and Peter has to catch him

Gets harassed for his ugly jacket which he replies "costs more than your shitty apartment rent"

Gets nearly robbed for said jacket

Comments on the bodega cat "is that sanitary?" which Peter replies "nope! Oh look they have cool ranch Doritos"

They visit the Statue of Liberty "Pete I've seen every angle of this lady including up her nose, it's called reckless driving of a rotorcraft" "but have you ever waited in line? Any line?" "..." "exactly! Now shhh I'm eavesdropping on the Portuguese family. I think their cousin Afonso stole Mariana's car to see his prison boyfriend" "... tell me more"

Peter buys Tony a New York tourist shirt as payback which he does wear but refuses to take a picture in (Peter sneaks one anyway)

They take lots of selfies (without the shirt or covering it with his jacket at Tony's insistence) and show them all to Pepper and Happy when they get home

They eat hotdogs for lunch which Tony has had before but Peter insists it's part of the experience. "Not as good as a cheeseburger, better than the aloo gobhi Pepper made last night. Don't tell her I said that"

End up witnessing a man threatening an old lady at an ATM but before Peter can go change into his suit Tony has walked up to the guy and punched him in the face

Tony riding home on the Subway with a cup of ice water held to his purple knuckles wearing an 'I ❤️ NY' shirt looking very grumpy to be sitting on the filthy seat (Peter takes another picture and sends it to the Avengers group chat. Clint gets it framed)

"So what did you think!" "I think I'm going to have you wash your hands every time you step into my building. I also think you're going to come to Malibu with me next weekend." "Oh, why?" "To show you how I live. We'll need to get you a suit tailored ASAP, and I hope you have your learners permit." "Oh no."

[catsteeth]

She's My Collar

Sandor "The Hound" Clegane x Baratheon Princess

+:✿ Request ✿:+ 

Request: “This request is for sandor of course!! I am all for angsty, yearning sandor clegane!! My train of thought is all over the place but heres a list of something I hope you could include in the one shot: •hozier level yearning •unrequited love/want •perhaps stark!reader or baratheon!reader •fleeting interactions like something small but it sticks with sandor •“im not a religious man but ill follow her” kinda vibe if that makes any sense!!" CW: MDNI, ANGST, afab reader, alcohol consumption, unrequited love, yearning, misogyny, arranged marriage, violence, joffrey being joffrey, mention of death.  A/N: He’s pathetic and I love it

Word Count: 5K

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The girl was born a Baratheon, born to Robert Baratheon during a previous marriage. Her mother, born to some wealthy house. But her memory would be lost in time after she died in childbirth. Robert did not speak of her. Cersei despised the mention of her name. So not much was known of her. Though she must’ve been pretty, as the girl born to Robert Baratheon was a girl of beauty. And soon after her mother’s death, Robert married Cersei Lannister. 

Either due to jealousy or embarrassment Cersei would treat the girl with malice, and hostility. But unlike the King's eldest son, the girl was kind and good. 

The boy was born to a man who wanted nothing more than for his sons to be knights of the Seven Kingdoms. His ambitions blinded him, allowing his eldest son Gregor to commit horrid acts. So long as the boy was a knight, none else mattered. The man's youngest son was kind. He was just a boy, no more than six years old. 

The little boy dreamed of being a knight just as his father did. Dreamed on the good deeds he would do in the name of his king and the Seven Kingdoms. Though those dreams would be dashed and discarded once the boy's older brother showed him the cruelty the world is capable of. The cruelty he was capable of. The cruelty the world rewarded him for. 

The boy grew into The Hound, Sandor Clegane the second most feared man in the Seven Kingdoms. The girl grew into a princess, one hated by her stepmother and eldest half brother. But loved by her father, her half siblings, the realm, and by a Hound.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ 

The Hound and the princess grew alongside one another most of his life. He could remember when he and she were much younger. The Lannisters and the Baratheons were traveling across the Stormlands. It was a hard journey, soon food became scarce. Naturally the scraps of whatever the royals did not eat were left to the guards and any other member of the traveling crew. But the princess would offer a young hound the meat from her plate every night.  He always hesitated, but was too hungry to deny her charity. She never held her charitable act over him, never even mentioned it. 

He was not one to appreciate beauty, nor was he one to indulge himself in fantasies of love. But the princess’s beauty was one that haunted Sandor. His whole life he looked at her as though she were the maiden herself. And the princess did not look upon the Hound with grotesque curiosity. Nor did she flaunt his presence to others in a manner of threatening them. No, the princess was kind towards him, kind when she did not have to be. He often found kindness a weakness in people, but in her kindness he found a comfort. 

The girl was different from her father, different from her brother. She was kind, she was honest, and he would follow her as if she was a God.  

He could also remember the first time she bestowed her favor onto him. 

Sandor never feared the tourneys he fought in. He did not fear the joust, he did not fear the competitors. What he did not like was the tradition of asking a noble lady for her favor. 

Sandor never liked this tradition. Never liked having to speak to noble ladies much less ask them to favor him. Not only was it ridiculous to him, the ladies often grimaced at his gesture. But at this tourney, and every tourney after it, he would pick the lady he wished to have picked each time before. 

As he rode his intimidatingly large black ill tempered stallion around the tournament pit. He looked up at all the noble ladies above him, looking down at him. They all sneered at his gaze, wishing not to be picked. The noble men all snickered amongst one another. But there was one person who looked upon him with indifferent eyes. The Baratheon girl’s eyes were not filled with pity, disgust, nor anticipation for the violence he was about to insight for the high lord's entertainment. She simply watched him with her same kind eyes. 

He did not think much of it, it came naturally to him as he stopped his horse in front of the royal family's seating. “I ask the favor of the Princess.” He said begrudgingly. 

The princess rose from her seat with a smile. She grabbed a ring of florals and silk. The flowers were yellow and the silk ribbon was black, the colors of both her house and his. As she approached him, she smiled upon him and placed the favor upon his joust. “I wish you good fortune, Sandor Clegane.” Sandor, he did not know she knew his name. Her voice itself was gentle and hushed, only for him to hear. Her smile was gentle and warm, one that he would have killed to see each night. One that he won the tourney for. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

Once, Joffrey had decided that a servant boy had shot him a momentary disrespectful glance. If he had, it would not have been unwarranted, though who is to say if he even did. Joffrey, sometimes bored, would pretend small disrespectful gestures were made against him. Allowing him to justify any horrid act he found amusement in subjecting any poor soul to. 

“I am sorry, my prince! Please if you would give me another chance-” The servant boy pleaded on his hands and knees. His cheek red from the blow Ser Meryn had given him moments before. 

Sandor never liked being Joffrey's sworn shield. Never liked that blonde cunt at all. Whenever he wanted to feel powerful, wanted to hurt someone weaker than him for no good reason, it bored and irritated him. 

Though it hardly ever embarrassed him, until she stepped into that room.

“Brother stop this!” The Baratheon princess commanded with a look of disgust. Sandor, though he’d not laid a hand on the boy, swallowed hard and stood straighter at her sudden presence. He worried how she’d look at him now, would her kind eyes fade for him?

“Why should I?” Joffrey asked her back with a raised brow.

The girl, bravely scoffed and took a few steps closer to her younger ‘brother’, “Because I commanded you to.” She said with angry eyes, an expression Sandor rarely saw from her. She looked beautiful even when she was angry.

Joffrey narrowed his eyes at her, “Who are you to command anything of me?” he stifled a laugh which only enraged her more. And only enraged Sandor more.

She took another step closer to him. Her hand gently trailed along the extravagantly dressed wooden table. “Your elder sister, the Kings first born-” 

“First born daughter.” Joffrey finished her words for her. “Daughter. You are not heir to anything. I’ll be king one day and you, a princess for a lifetime.” He said laughing as if he were amused by some great jest. “And as your king, I could have anything done to you that I like.” He walked closer to her, with a threatening gaze. “In fact, as heir to the throne, I could do anything I like. I could have Ser Meryn hold you down and-”  And with that the girl's temper got the better of her. She grasped a glass goblet from the table she stood by, and threw it with great force at her brother’s feet. The goblet shattered into a hundred pieces. Bits of it flew and cut Joffrey’s right hand. And some other bits cut Sandor’s cheek, not deeply but enough to bleed. “You cannot do that!” His shrill voice cracked as he grasped hold of bleeding palm.

“Clearly I can.” The girl said with little emotion. It would have made Sandor laugh if he didn’t have to worry about the other royal guards. He worried that they would put their filthy hands on you, or would be foolish enough to draw their swords. 

Though none would. The guards were shocked by the scene. This princess had never done so much as raised her voice, and now she was assaulting their future kind. They had to think of defending one of the King’s children from the other. They stood, unsure of how to act.

Furiously Joffrey shouted, “I’ll tell my mother!” Knowing his father would do nothing but ridicule him.

The princess raised her hand, and slapped the boy across the cheek, “Tell her I did that as well.” She added. 

Her slap was enough to leave a red imprint across the boy's face.

In a fit of anger, the young prince grabbed hold of his sword. Prepared to draw its blade and point it at the princess. Just before Sandor could grab the prince, a different Kingsgaurd stepped between the two royals. “Stop this!” the man commanded. Joffrey let go of the sword's hilt and the girl began to walk away, ready to face whatever punishment her step mother desired. 

With her back turned, and the guards' attentions divided. Joffrey ceased his moment, and drew the thin blade of his sword and readied himself to strike the princess. 

“Boy!” The princess turned back as the Hound’s loud voice boomed out through the dining hall. She was stunned by the sight before her. The prince’s attack was stopped by the Hound ceasing the blade with his bare hand. Blood from his hand trickled down the blade of the sword.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Soon the two royal children were brought before their father the King.

“How the fuck did any of this happen? You are meant to protect my blood!” King Robert questioned the KingsGuard furiously. 

“Never had to protect a princess from a prince.” Ser Meryn attempted to explain, “Or a prince from a princess.” He said in a lower tone that angered Joffrey.

“Shut up!” King Robert angrily shouted, sick of hearing whatever excuse they had. He sat back in his chair, and huffed loudly. He looked between his two children. “Well done, my girl.” He said in a gruff low tone.

Joffrey looked surprised his father would congratulate her on striking her brother. “But look what she-“ Joffrey began, holding up his cut palm.

Though Robert interrupted him, “How could you ever be a king if you cannot win a fight against a woman?” 

“Father!” Joffrey’s shrill voice shouted, 

“Leave!” Robert shouted back. With an infuriated huff, Joffrey left accompanied with two guards by his side. Though Sandor stayed in the room. “Girl, come ‘ere.” Robert commanded much softer to his daughter, waving his hand, beckoning her to come closer. 

She did as her king commanded. Stepped closer to him with her head lowered. Robert stood before her, and held her chin up with his fingers. “You’re more of a man than your brother.” He said proudly. He meant it as a complement, it was a rare thing to receive as a child of Roberts. With a sigh he patted the girl on the back, “Go on then.” He said softly dismissing her. 

She nodded and took her leave as her father requested. 

As the girl left, Sandor turned to follow her out. Though the King’s voice beckoned out, stopping him in his steps. “Dog.” Sandor stopped, and turned towards the King, “If that yellow haired shit lays a hand on my girl you beat him.” The King commanded. Sandor needed no other instruction. He was quite content to do so. “Understood?” The King pressed.

Sandor nodded, “Aye.” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As the Hound walked down the Halls of the keep, he saw the princess walking in the opposite direction. He tried to keep his eyes ahead, not looking at her at all. 

Though his illusion of disinterest did not deter the girl, “I beg pardon, ser.” Her serene voice called out gently. It felt like a cool breeze on a hot day, a relief. 

Sandor looked up at her, hoping she was not speaking to him. If she was, he knew whatever words she spoke to him would haunt his thoughts. As he looked at her, he knew she was speaking to him. He swallowed and then croaked out, “I’m no ser.” 

The Baratheon princess shook her head, “No. You are more true than any knight.” He knew her words would haunt him, but now they would torture him. The girl stepped forward, making him almost flinch, “All the knights in that room were content to let my brother kill me. What you did today-“

The girl began but the Hound interrupted her, knowing if she thanked him, his stomach might turn. “It’s my duty to protect you.” He grumbled, attempting to not look the girl in the eyes. Her beautiful eyes.

“I’d call it brave.” She chimed, making him stop and turn to face her once again. He was about to tell her it was not brave but she continued, “But I know you’d not. You are a hard man with many scars. You needn’t courage, nor praise. But I thank you for what you've done.” 

Fuck.

He was never thanked for doing his duty. Never thanked for anything. He was commanded and he did as he was told. 

Her eyes wandered over the Hound’s face. It made him feel weak, for the first time in a very long time. “I am sorry-” She said, her voice sickeningly sweet. Sandor looked at her with confusion, “Are you hurt?” She asked as she reached her hand towards the cut on his cheek. Her sudden movement made him flinch. 

“No.” He rasped quickly. 

The girl however was scared of the Hound. She continued forward and placed a hand on the Hounds shoulder. Even though her hand was separated from his skin by his thick armor, he still felt a chill run over his body. “Oh but you are-” She began, concerned for him. A feeling that was new for him.

“It’s a scratch.” Sandor interrupted the girl.

She shook her head, “Still, I caused it.” The girl reached into the neckline of her gown, making Sandor almost blush. Such a strange thing, a man who had seen every part of a woman, and every sexual act no matter how deviant in almost every brothel in KingsLanding would blush at such a thing. She pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with her name, “Take this.” She said holding it out to him.

He could not take it. He could not, no matter how badly he wanted to. “Don’t need it-” 

“I command you to take it, as your princess.” The girl said without hesitation. Reluctantly Sandor grabbed the cloth, “I am sorry.” She said once more before continuing on and walking past Sandor. 

She did not know that he would worship that cloth. Keep it in his armor, and keep it in his rooms when he slept. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

When Robert mixed drinking and hunting too often, a boar attacked him. Leaving him so injured he was on a deathbed.

The princess visited her father each day, morning, noon, and night. And when he died, she stayed confined to her chambers. Her only company she’d allow was her Septa. Though the girl was grown enough to be without a Septa, hers was closer to a mother. Since the girl never had one, her septa was there for all her girlhood. So she insisted on keeping around. 

Sandor often checked on the girl, though of course she was not wise to this. 

He would open her door, just a crack. He would listen in just to be sure she was alright. One day when he decided to open her door he heard her and her Septa speaking plainly. 

“Do you think the boar was the Gods doing?” The girl asked as she stared out her window with a stoic and dazed expression.

“Hm?” Her septa responded, looking up from the needlepoint she mindlessly toyed at.

The girl did not look at her septa. Simply continued to stare out her window into nothingness. She paused for a moment, not speaking, “I’d a dream the Stranger came to those woods. He changed into a boar and killed my father for his deviance.” She spoke of such morbid dreams with no emotion attached to it at all.

“How awful.” Her septa gasped, throwing her needle point down onto the table in front of her. “No dear girl I don’t think it was.” She said more gently, “You dream too much.” 

The girl shrugged, still not looking at the old woman. “I suppose I’m trying to find the Gods in everything I do.” 

“Prayer is best for that. Not such morbid dreams.” The old Septa said, picking her needle point back up. 

The girl did not respond for a moment, still simply staring out into nothing. “Do you think they’re real?” She asked softly and without shame. “Do you truly believe it? Never did you doubt it?” She asked, finally looking at the Old Septa.

“They are real.” She asserted sternly, “You believe they aren’t?” 

The girl sighed, not wanting for a lecture, “I know the Gods are a necessity for people. Like food, water. I know they must exist. But I also know they don’t.” She said calmly. Her words stuck with Sandor like a knife driven into his back.

“What a terrible thing to say.” Her septa said shocked.

“Is it?” The girl's eyes narrowed in confusion, “It’s just my thoughts.”

The septa shook her head looking back to her needle point. “You think too much, dear girl.” 

The girl sighed and went back to looking out her window, “Seems I do too much and not enough.”

Without many words at all, this lonely girl would consume Sandor’s every thought. She was smart and kind. Two things Sandor did not think of himself. 

He did not believe in the Gods, because if there were Gods, why did they punish this girl? Perhaps she was his punishment. Perhaps he was hers. Perhaps it was the world that was their punishment. 

This girl should be queen. She’d be a good one, a better one then her cunt brother. She’d be loved by the small folk and no doubt able to keep some kind of peace, even with the war. She’d not let her pride keep the seventh kingdom. If they wanted independence they’d have it. Clearly they could fight well enough on their own. But she was not queen. But she was his. 

How her hair laid against the delicate fabric of her pillow. She was all too precious for his affections. He couldn’t help it really, he felt drawn towards her. Felt a stronger pull towards her than he felt towards anything, even food or water. But he’d never subject her to his presence. 

He simply needed to see her, needed to know she was safe.

She slept sweetly, her breathing though loud was the calmest noise he’d heard. It was like the sounds of waves meeting the sands. 

Sometimes, not often, but sometimes he would fantasize about what it would feel like to sleep beside her. For her to invite him into her bed. To sleep in his arms. He’d feel her heartbeat against his own. He’d smell her scent, and feel her chest rise and fall with each breath. He never slept well, but he believed if she was in his arms, perhaps he could. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As time went by, the royal family debated what to do with the girl. She was not a Baratheon Lannister, she was the reminder of Robert's first marriage, a reminder that Joffrey was not the true king. 

Sandor stood guard by the small council’s chamber door as he heard the girl’s step mother Cersei say, “She’s as wild as the boar that killed her father. No man would want her, she is too difficult. So give her to the Tyrell’s, a poisoned gift.” 

Overcome with a myriad of emotions, anger, sadness, and grief, Sandor rushed to the girl's chambers. 

Sandor stood behind her door. His hand firmly grasped the door handle, and his forehead rested against the wood of the door.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity. 

He wanted to open the door, ask- no beg you to run away with him. He wanted to tell you all the things he felt for you. Wanted to protect you. 

But he was a second son, a kingsguard, he had no land, and no money. He had nothing to offer you, he didn’t even have a handsome face to bargain with. 

And so, he let the handle of the door go, and he walked down the hall. He considered it mercy. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Instead of subjecting that poor girl to his company he decided to subject tavern dwellers to him instead. That night, as her marriage was announced, Sandor sank into his cups.

Though even there he was not protected from talks of her betroval. 

Beside Sandor at another table were four men, 

“Say what you will, I think it’s a perfect match! Loras Tyrell loves a Baratheon!” Some oaf shouted as he slammed his cup onto the table laughing. 

“Aye but she’s missin’ a cock now isn’t she!” A shorter guard shouted out.

Sandor wanted to break the fool's jaws for speaking of her situation with such amusement. “Too bad for Loras, and too bad for all the other men in the realm!” A bald guard added,

The shorter guard raised his cup, “Hear hear. I’ll miss seeing that girl… Miss seeing her bend over to pick flowers.” 

The bald guard nodded in a facade of sadness, “Aye that ass will be missed-”

“No, her pair of tits will be missed!” The fatter guard spoke up.

“Nay her cunt! Ah and what a waste she’ll be giving it to a boy whore.” One of the men said, it was enough for Sandor to slam his cup onto the table in anger. He was trying with all his might to hold onto his restraint.

Though this did not go unnoticed by the men at the table. The oafish one spoke up again, “What of you Clegane?” He said getting closer to the Hound, “You guard that sweet stag so loyally. Surely you’ve thought of what her cunt tastes like-” 

Without another thought, Sandor took the man by the back of his head and slammed it into the table. His nose broke and his teeth cracked. Sandor took his dagger out and stabbed it through the man's hand. His blade took one of the man’s fingers. 

Sandor stood, taking his drink with him, “You speak to me like that again, I’ll take more than a finger.” He warned as he left the tavern in a huff.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

Against his better judgment, that night Sandor checked in on that girl. 

She was with her Septa again. He hoped that she were alone, if she were perhaps in his drunken state he’d have actually begged her to run off with him.

“My father would never have allowed this.” The girl said with a scared and sorrowful waiver of her voice, “Though I suppose it will be a relief to be gone from this place.” She sniffled, “I just don’t want to be forgotten.” 

“You’ll not be forgotten, dear girl.” Her Septa said petting her hair. 

“I suppose if I were to marry anyone in this city it would be him.” She shrugged, “But, I am unsure of how I could please him. You know of his nature. Know of his relationship with my uncle. I care not for any moral righteousness and I hold no judgment of it. But how could I ever make him happy?” She asked desperately, frightened by the prospects of her future. 

Her Septa grasped the girl by her shoulders tightly, “You will make him happy by giving his children royal blood.” 

“And how can I even do that?” The girl put her face into her hands,

“You are familiar with the act, I have explained it-”

The girl interrupted, “I won’t want it.”

Her Septa sighed, “A dreadful duty for some wives. Just lay there. Look at the ceiling and memorize the pattern of the trim. Count the seconds. Anything to let your mind wander away from your body.” She tried her best to comfort the girl, but clearly was doing nothing to help the girl’s fear.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As Sandor took leave of his duties. He threw off his armor without caution, and nearly ripped his clothing off himself. He was angry, no, he was enraged. 

This girl did not deserve this. She deserved none of the shit those blonde shits put her through. And the words of ‘advice’ given to her by her septa only enraged him more. She should have told her to slip poison in his wine. 

Sandor sat down on his bed in his small clothes with a huff. His weight made the bed creek and bow. He drank from a wineskin as he thought of it all. Soon his anger subsided, replaced with a defeated sorrow. 

Naught could be done for her. This much he knew for certain.

So, after his wineskin ran dry he laid down. Finally allowing his body to rest even though his mind could not.

As he laid there, stripped of his armor and steel. As his sensitive skin laid against the rough material of his bedding he was reminded once more that he, and his body were punished. Punished by both too much, and not enough.

Too much combat, too much drinking, too many tourneys, too many cuts and bruises. So much he endured, and his body was punished for it. He ached and felt pains all over his body all the time. His scars were sensitive and hurt in warm bath water. 

But as he laid there he was again reminded how he had not enough. Not enough gentle touches, enough love and care. Though of course he’d never admit it to anyone. His body felt truly alone in his bed. He wished he could have felt her around him. He’d fucked before, that would not shock anyone. But he’d never made love to anyone. And Gods did he need to. 

He thought of it often, kissing her. He’d do it gently. He’d be gentle with her. She deserved gentleness. He’d kiss her while he held her face in his palms. Kiss her neck, press his lips against her skin and lick where she was most sensitive- wherever those spots were. Gods he wanted to know where they were. 

He felt shameful for thinking this way, he really did. He was no better than those men in that tavern. But, he’d be good to her.

He’d make her his wife, in the eyes of The Seven. He’d build her a home. It wouldn’t be like the one she’d been brought up in. Not a castle, but a house made of stone and wood. He’d give her safety, love. And as his hand began to wonder his punished body he thought of how he’d give her children.

He wished to know how her body would feel in hands. How it would feel to have his hands caress her breasts, the curves of her body, the soft plumpness of her belly. He wondered how it would feel to be inside of her. How his cock would feel to slide in and out of her slick, warm, inviting cunt. He did not know, but he did know it would have felt oh so much better than his calassed hand that was wrapped around his length now. 

Though his actions were vulgar and sexual, he did not think of it as that. He couldn’t think of her for long without feeling the need to have her. To be close to her. To please her. To hold her close and make her feel safe under his touch, to make her feel loved and desired with his body, his hands, and his mouth. 

He thought of what her septa told her. That she’d have to lay down and take it. If she was with him she’d want it, she’d never be forced. Bedding would be a pleasure not a duty.

His groans loudened, and his breathing quickened as he thought of how she’d ask him for it. How gentle her touch would feel on his ruined skin. 

Soon he was awoken from his day dream as the hot splash of his release jolted his mind back to reality. 

He did not have her, and she for all he knew, did not want him. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

And so the Hound was left with nothing to do but sit and watch as the love of his life was preparing to leave his life forever. 

He felt his heart breaking as he escorted the royals to the docks with the rest of the Kingsguard. He felt his eyes water as she began to step onto the dock, and approach the boat that would take her away from him. 

Naught could be done for her. 

So without a word the Hound offered the girl his hand. She took it, gently. He helped her into the boat. Her gaze fell onto him, and Gods it felt warm. He wanted to cut through them all. Wanted to take her off that boat and ride her away on Stranger. He’d do all the things he thought of the night before. Build her a home, keep her safe, and he’d love her. But they didn’t live in that world. 

The princess would marry that Tyrell. She’d have his sons, whether she wanted it or not. And she would never know how much her dog loved her.

The Hound watched as the boat sailed away with the girl he had loved all his life.

It’s the world that’s awful.

Thank you so much for your request! It was so much fun to write!!

Requester: @rhinestonecowboysworld

[xo-codbby]

when the two hour journey back from a failed mission had all five of you on edge, especially with you as the driver 🤭

price usually was the one to drive but he'd been caught in a bomb that had been too close, catching the shrapnel in his thigh and arm preventing him from using it too much. luckily he'd been fine, gaz and ghost safely removed the debris and bandaged him up. but now it meant that you were the next designated driver, not trusting gaz/soap especially simon to make it to the barracks safely. and poor price was all too stressed, brows furrowed as he rubbed the back his neck slightly in dire need of his bed and a drink

so it left him in the back seat with soap and gaz

soap who's absolutely restless and fuming and gaz who's brooding, eyes ticking when soap keeps squirming, "jesus just stay fuckin still for one fuckin sECOND!" "what tha FUCK did you just say??"

so now you have a brawl taking place and your hands are clenched so tightly around the wheel you're contemplating dumping them all on the side of the road and driving off

"enough! can you both just stop" you snap back lugging the empty gum container at them, it hitting the back of soap's head and bouncing off of gaz's forehead. cue another few grumbles as they finally separate, muttering curses and scowls

price decides to sit in the middle of them, to ease their tension and play mediator,"no more fighting lads. you're grown men. act like it" "i am! he's started it" "fuckin' boot licker"

unfortunately price's beautiful broad frame blocks the mirror and you need to see behind the car. so it leaves you back with the decision you hated

"gaz d'you mind sitting back in the middle?" "i do mind" "but-" "i. do. mind."

ego has absolutely crumbled 6 feet under from your comment, already on top of a failed mission it doesn't seem to be kyle's day at all. price sighs heavily, one minor inconvenience away from calling laswell and transferring to a new team as he grabs the back of gaz's top and pulls him back in the middle. soap is busy snickering away in his seat, thumping the back of his comrade's shoulder

"aye that's not so bad. plenty o'birds go fer tha small men" "yeah, you'd know from experience"

another fight breaks out and this time price steps in, snapping at them both. watching both seargents fall into their respectful seats after getting an earful from the captain with a matching glare

and ghost? oh, he's sitting all cute in the passenger seat like the little princess he is <3<3<3

that is, until he's suddenly become an expert driving instructor. telling you not to go too fast/watching out for the cars, "hey hey, watch out for the stop sign-" "coming from the same guy who almost crashed us in the heli several times??" "still got your arse from point a to b so what's the issue?"

and then soap has the bright idea to start pissing off the lieutenant, leaning forwards behind his seat as he starts sticking his fingers into ghost's ears

learns his lesson very promptly when said finger is grabbed and bent at an awkward angle threatening to break

it's silent for a moment as you drive, taking out a soft breath finally. it's then very quickly broken before ghost complains, moving in his seat annoyed

"you got any snacks? m'starvin" doesn't wait for an answer, already rifling through the glove compartment. pulls out a snickers bar brown eyes glinting, turning behind his seat to eat it and show off to the three in the back "oi you share some with me", "greedy bastard, give some over", "where did you get that??"

you have to stop at the convenience store to appease the rest of them

but at least the driver has full control of the aux and you play your own songs, a beautiful symphony of groans and complaints around you. but hey, it's nothing the music can't drown out

and finally it's quiet after an hour and half, turning around in your seat when you're in traffic. price is asleep, arms crossed over his chest, head leaning slightly with his bucket hat falling half off. kyle's head is on price's good thigh breathing softly as he remains relatively still eyes closed peacefully. soap is pressed into his back snoring softly, a very active sleeper you've learnt throughout your time being with the 141. and simon's head rests delicately on centre console, breathing gently as his balaclava is pushed up around his nose fast asleep.

with all four men finally knocked out you thank the universe, as you continue to drive a little gentle this time all the way back to base

not before taking a sneaky pic for memories, of course ♡

[beautifulsenpai]

YOU REALLY GOT MY SOUL

muzan kibutsuji x male reader

summary. 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋. 𝗆𝗎𝗓𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗅𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗅𝗎𝗑𝗎𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑

senpai’s note. 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝖼, 𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇? 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗉, 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒!

𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌/𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗌

valentines day is an annual festival when lovers express their affection with greetings and gifts. muzan did not hold back this year, he gave (name) the best valentines day experience ever.

taking (name) to a classy restaurant, buying him luxury gifts, etc. who would’ve thought that the demon lord could be a romantic lover, especially to a human male? (name) has no clue that muzan is the most feared demon lord that killed multiple thousands, and he likes it to stay that way.

he’ll eventually tell him at the right time, but not at this moment, the moment to show deep affection to one another. muzan loved the human boy very much, and he didn’t know how to express it even more. so..

──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!

"mmhn..hnngh..mu-muzan!!~", (name) whimpered onto the pillow he buried his face in. he couldn’t let muzan see how flushed he was, and tears threatening to spill from his eyes, it was too embarrassing. (name) was stripped away from his clothes while muzan only had his undergarments.

(name) ass was up in the air as muzan was eating his ass like it was going to be the last time he was going to see it. muzan had (name’s) ass separated to see his main target and was licking his pink puckered hole, and evading his insides with his painfully long tongue.

muzan was doing it so well that it left (name) whimpering sweetly, and left (name’s) pink hole and muzan’s chin coated with spit. muzan’s tongue entered (name’s) hole once again, making (name’s) eyes squinting with a few tears about to spill.

muzan’s tongue was hitting the right places inside of (name). it even sometimes reached where his prostate was located, making (name) release adorable moans. (name) felt his orgasm slowly approaching, his cock spurting pre-cum onto the bed sheets.

he tried to warn muzan by trying to separate his ass away from muzan’s tongue, but muzan didn’t let that happen. his hands snaked from (name’s) rear to his wide hips and then clutched onto (name’s) hips, forcing him to stay in place.

(name’s) eyes widened as he lifted his face off the pillow, mouth agape as he released sweet cries of overwhelming bliss. (name’s) legs squirmed, desperately trying to release himself from muzan’s grasp, but muzan wouldn't budge. instead, he got rougher, licking his insides more furiously.

"muzan!~ h-honey, pl- o-oh!~..please! n-no more!~ mmhhh! g-gonna..", (name) didn’t even finish what he was going to say before whining loudly as he reached his breaking point. (name’s) squirming halted as his cock released ropes of cum onto the bed sheets.

as one last drop of cum spurted out of (name’s) cock, his face fell onto the pillow, his breathing was shaky and weak, sniffing away his tears as he shut his eyes. muzan finally pulled away, proud of the work he did. as he stood on his knees, he smirked in delight as he stared down at (name), rubbing the spit away from his chin with his arm.

the view of (name) was to die for. his whole body flushed, his head was turned to the side to see half of his face, eyes teary, brows scrunched and lips were pulled back and body shook from the organism. the beautiful view of (name) made a noticeable bulge from his undergarments.

muzan leaned down onto (name’s) body, his hands roaming (name’s) chest, twisting and rubbing his nipples, and kissing his back tenderly. (name’s) gripped onto the bedsheets, whimpering softly as he got hard again. "you’re so fucking hot my dear, you’re so beautiful, so fucking beautiful." muzan murmured against (name’s) back between kisses.

(name) replied with a whimper. muzan pulled down his undergarment, enough for his big throbbing cock to be out. muzan kissed, and licked (name’s) earlobe as he rubbed his cock against (name’s) slicked rim, pre-cum spilling onto (name’s) back. "mu-muzan, put it in me already!~ i can’t w-wait anymore!".

say less. muzan guided the tip of his cock to (name’s) tight rim, and then plunge his cock inside of (name’s) in a fast manner. (name’s) eyes widened as they both moaned. (name’s) walls snuggled tightly against muzan’s pulsating cock, making muzan let out a curse.

muzan’s teeth gritted as he stood straight on his knees. he placed one hand on (name’s) rear, and the other was placed on (name’s) shoulder. muzan didn’t wait for (name’s) approval to start moving so he started thrusting into (name’s) hole fast. (name) moan open wide as he let out a high-pitched moan after another.

(name’s) ass rippled into waved from muzan’s hips meeting his rear, balls hitting against (name’s) ass cheeks. drool escaped from (name’s) mouth from the pleasure of muzan’s big demon cock hitting his prostate. "f-fuck! o-oh!~ feels.. s-so good! your cock feels so- ah!~ so good inside me!".

(name) screamed as his head tilted back, and eyes closed as muzan kept assaulting (name’s) insides. muzan’s eyes shut tightly from (name’s) walls snuggling warmly onto his cock. muzan’s breath hitched as he felt his organism approaching, he was pent up just from eating out (name) and hearing his delightful moans.

muzan slapped (name’s) ass cheek, making (name) jolt up, his tongue lolled out as tears finally spilled from his eyes. muzan grunted as he caressed the reddened ass cheek as his thrusting became a bit sloppy, signaling that he was so close to his release.

his thrusting quickened as his hands gripped harshly onto (name’s) shoulder blade and his rear, being careful to not release his sharp demon-like nails. (name) smiled lustfully as sweat dripped from his face.

"god, you feel amazing (name). i-i..love you so much. love you so damn much that i’ll murder anyone for you!~ g-going to cum, take it all like a good boy that you are.~"

[darlingdekarios]

no place like home.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 17,578 content: The Homelander x f!reader, dead dove do not eat, dark themes [kidnapping, dubious consent], Homelander is very much so Homelander, controlling behavior, smut [masturbation - public for Homelander, fingering - receiving, oral - receiving, unprotected p in v], kink(s) [breeding, semi-public]

Homelander doesn't just want to be loved by everyone, he needs to be loved by everyone...but most of all, he needs to be loved by you.

“Homelander saves the day once again.”

“Homelander is our hometown hero after another heroic weekend.” 

“Welcome home, Homelander!”

One of his favorite things to do when he returned home was to flip through the news channels, swimming in the sea of compliments all for him…for whatever they’d scripted for him to do this time. He often found himself wishing he could drown in this sea - if he weren’t so fucking good at everything, maybe he could. This was always his favorite way to pass the time. The high he felt from the various phrases of approval for him would give him enough gratification until the next time he was let loose to do exactly what he was created to do. Your voice flooded his ears on a particularly cold mid-October afternoon, yet the sweet sound only provided poisoned words. 

“Homelander - Hometown Hero or Homegrown Hoax? On this episode we’re-”

A hoax? Despite the chill of the day, Homelander found his body immediately surged with heat at your selfish words of disapproval. Not that these petty chores were any real risk to him, but there was no law that he had to help people. In fact, he could choose to never help a single person ever again with his gifts, and there was nothing anyone else could do about it. Who was strong enough to stop the Homelander from doing exactly what he wanted? And yet, here you were, with a voice entirely too sweet to be saying such ugly things about him – about the one true god of this sorry planet. 

Failing to drain out your words, he found himself turning his attention away from the news channels on his tv praising him, and instead focusing on the laptop in front of him – on pulling up the video for your silly little podcast. He had to see what the woman who dared speak of him this way looked like – to see who such a sweet voice could belong to. And he was quite possibly the furthest thing he’d ever been from disappointed when his eyes finally saw you for the first time. 

You were so beautiful, so tempting and delicious, and yet you were tarnishing all of the perfect things you presented about yourself by speaking so poorly of him. Who were you, with your insignificant podcast, to sit here and pass judgments about anything he’d done? Who were you to threaten to expose the things he deserved to do – the things that were his right to do? You were nothing, and yet right now, you were everything that consumed him as he wrapped his mind around your words, as he tried to process the hatred you felt you could so freely spout for him. 

The half an hour show felt like an eternity as your words washed over him like fire. He was red hot by the time the show wrapped up and he found himself breathing heavily through clenched teeth. Pausing with his eyes glued to the frozen image of you the ending video had left on his screen, he found himself rising to pace the room, eyes never leaving the screen. He’d saved an entire bus load of stupid kids tonight, and this is what he came home to? To this entitled little bitch talking about the things you thought he did wrong? Right or wrong – it didn’t matter, because it was what he wanted to do. 

He found himself unable to rest. For the entirety of the day, it seemed, he worked his way through the archive of your work – from the beginning, desperate for any mention of his name falling from your negative lips. Episode after episode took up hour after hour of his night as he set out on his treasure hunt, becoming desperate as years worth of cookie-cutter journalism flooded his ears. But there was nothing. No comments about The 7, no comments about Vought, no comments about him…he almost found himself wishing to hear his name slip from your lips dripping with hatred rather than he wished for you to ignore him completely. 

His efforts were not rewarded until he reached a podcast dated November 07 of one year prior - the last episode uploaded until about a month ago. It almost made him giddy to hear his name on your lips again, and the feeling didn’t falter as the story of the short-than-usual episode took place – you were sorry you hadn’t updated the channel in a while, and let your loyal followers know that you would be taking a break from journalism to work through some personal trauma. The trauma was that in October of last year, Homelander had been told “no” a few too many times and decided to throw a tantrum to get his point across – laser beaming into a building full of innocent people without regard for their safety…without regard for their lives. Amongst the dead that day was a young man, the one with whom you’d planned to spend your life with. 

This wasn’t the story Vought told, of course – they could never tarnish the shining reputation of their golden boy who simply needed to learn how to accept disappointment sometimes. The story that capitalistic cunt-filled company twisted into the media for themselves was that Homelander had tracked an extremely dangerous group of gun-wielding terrorists to the building and taken the route with the least amount of damage by using his laser eyes to take out the terrorists (and half of the building with them in a tragic loss). He’d rehearsed the speech the company had written for him enough times to where his apology sounded sincere, though you seemed to see right through that little façade, according to your podcast. 

He could feel the hollowness in your voice as he watched you speak about how the last couple of weeks had been for you - about how you’d been feeling since you lost Adam. Homelander found that every time the name Adam fell from your lips, every time you mentioned how good of a man Adam had been , his eyes gave an involuntary roll. I mean, honestly, he worked in some totally unspectacular building on an unspectacular street - how special could he honestly be? This nobody was good enough for you to speak so highly of on your podcast, yet Homelander wasn’t worth an ounce of that attention? Who the fuck cares about Adam when Homelander exists?

The first episode you’d uploaded since then was from a month ago, and Homelander had to admit that the anger forming in your features as you spoke about him made you look so deliciously pretty. To his absolute pleasure, you hardly seemed to even mention Adam by name all this time later, but Homelander fell from your lips like a symphony…no matter how angry it was. He could listen to you say his name laced with every emotion for hours, and he desperately wanted to hear how you’d sound saying his name with praise. 

But you had no words of praise for him, not a single one. Every good thing Homelander did was scripted, and you pointed that out frequently. The real Homelander was the one who threw tantrums and killed innocent people. A hoax. You’d called him a hoax a lot over the last month across several episodes, and that word was not particularly pretty when you were saying it about him. You hated him. He was “everything wrong with being a superhero”, and a “mockery of the word hero”...blah, blah, blah. The feeling surged through him like fire and he swiped the laptop from his desk, sending it crashing into the nearest wall and snapping. No one talked about him like this. No one dared speak his name alongside such negativity, alongside such open anger. He was outside and landing on the roof at Vought in almost no time at all, making his way down to crime analytics - to Anika. He knew she could never refuse what he demanded. Dropping an image of you he’d printed on her keyboard he placed his hands firmly behind his back. “I need an address for her,” he snapped, tone serious enough to let Anika know the man wasn’t in the mood to wait today. “If an address isn’t possible, I need somewhere to find her. Today .”

All Anika could do was swallow and nod as she immediately began her work, searching for a trace of this poor woman who, for some reason, had Homelander’s attention. He never gave a backup option without her suggesting one, and the fact that he suggested anything other than an address meant he was desperate. Anika – and everyone else in the room – could feel the tension dripping from the dangerous Supe as he waited. Anika almost regretted handing over the information he asked for, but dared not to deny him what he asked. 

It was a genuine joy when he found himself outside of your meek apartment, gazing into the privacy of your home. It was getting late, well after 8pm now, and yet you still weren’t home. Just as the possibilities began swimming in his head about what could be keeping your attention this late at night you walked through the front door, dropping your keys in a bowl on the counter and immediately walking to the bedroom. He gulped down as you pulled your shirt over your head, reaching behind yourself to unclasp your bra. You lived high enough up in the building to where you felt safe enough to do this – to undress in front of an open window, free from the prying eyes of the streets. But you weren’t free of him now. You’d probably never be free of his obsession again. 

You wiggled your hips as you worked your jeans down the curve of your hips, your thighs, dropping to the floor and giving Homelander a glance of what you had to offer him – though with your back to him, he still couldn’t see what he wanted the most. Still, the view was enough to make him begin to tent his pants despite the cool evening air on the rooftop. You let your hair down from the messy updo it had been in all day and run your fingers through your hair as you walked to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine in your underwear. Taking in a big drink you turned to walk back to your bedroom, and Homelander couldn’t help but push his pants down, face cold and emotionless as he watched you parade around your apartment looking delicious for him.

You walked to a record player and began an old jazz album before walking to the bathroom to run some water for a bath, right as Homelander grasped his cock in his fist, hissing at the feeling into the dark night. You swallowed another large drink of your wine and walked back into your bedroom, grabbing a vibrator from the nightstand and laying back on your bed. You would be sick to your stomach if you knew you were on complete display for him like this and the thought made his cock twitch in his hand as Homelander began working an orgasm from himself right as you ran the toy along your folds. He had never been more thankful for his sense of hearing than the moment he heard a moan fall from your lips. 

Groaning at the combined visual of the vibrator slipping into you and the beautiful sounds you made (which he felt was a much better use of your pretty mouth than your little podcast), he began to pump himself faster and harder, eyes briefly rolling back into his head before he pulled himself together again. His eyes needed to stay glued to you right now – needed to watch you pleasure yourself. Clearly your life wasn’t so fucking miserable, after all.

Homelander didn’t last long before he came into the air, not giving a single thought as to where it would land as it fell from the building’s roof, nearly yelling out a groan as you moaned once more. Allowing yourself a moment to come down from your high you then slipped the toy from your sopping core before throwing back the rest of the wine and walking your way into the bathroom to finish unwinding from your day. When you disappeared into the bathroom where Homelander could no longer see you he took this as his opportunity to return to his own home. 

It was infuriating for him…wanting you to adore him as everyone else should, knowing you despised him, and witnessing how fucking hot you could be. It was obvious your life couldn’t be so bad considering you appeared to have a job, an apartment, and enough drive to pleasure yourself the moment you got home. For a moment Homelander wondered if you had been with a man who couldn’t please you tonight, so you finished the job yourself when you returned home – but he pushed the thought from his mind when he felt the anger boil within himself again. 

It just wasn’t fair. He should be allowed to have whatever he wanted – he was a god, and god didn’t have to ask for things. They shouldn’t have to convince anyone to love them. Fear and respect for those superior should come naturally to everyone, and yet here this weaker non-super powered human was having the audacity to say such horrible things about him…having the audacity to ruin his homecoming this way. All he’d been able to focus on since he got home was you and your hatred for him when he should’ve been masturbating on his couch to all of the beautiful things people had to say about him. A journalist in his city as beautiful as you who only had negative things to say about him? That wouldn’t do, and he would get you in line no matter what he had to do. He would do anything to hear your praises, including putting in a phone call to an old acquaintance for a favor involving kidnapping his pesky journalist to get a point across – and he didn’t even have to ask nicely. 

And so as you slept that night a nightmare came true as a stranger crawled through your window to do Homelander’s bidding.

There wasn’t much to decipher about your current situation, and as day after day passed you began to lose that fighting spirit you usually displayed with pride and the pit  in your stomach seemed to grow. You were fairly certain you’d been on this concrete floor in a windowless room for at least 3 nights now, and you were beginning to come to terms with the horrible facts about your situation – you probably weren’t going to like whatever came next, whether it was trafficking, or worse. You hadn’t heard another human voice in the time here, despite the fact someone – a man – stuck his arm in through the door to hand you food and water. It wasn’t exactly comforting to know that he was trying to keep you alive. 

The time passed slowly in isolation and only seemed to pass slower as new aches and pains sprang forth everyday from the harsh concrete beneath you. It felt like every couple of hours you were crying again, desperate to be home and in your bed, desperate to feel the sunshine on your face, desperate to hear someone, anyone talk to you. But reality was often cruel to you and now was no exception. Fortunately for your breaking spirit, the third sleep would be your last. There was no way to discern what time it was when crashing sounds could be heard above you, startling you and immediately sending you into a panic attack. Whatever it was upstairs sounded horrible – like the tossing of furniture, yelling, loud thuds – and you were certain this could only mean bad things for you. 

As the door to the small prison you found yourself in was ripped off its hinges you felt the tears flow down your cheeks faster than they ever had, a sob leaving your lips as you buried your face in your knees, fearing for the worst. The sound of boots came closer and it felt like your heart was going to stop before that voice filled your ears – a voice you knew well, and often wished you didn’t, but right now it was the best sound you’d ever heard. 

“Uncover your eyes, ma’am,” his overly-confident voice slipped into your ears, his tone even and soothing in all of the uncertainty you’d been feeling. “You’re safe now.”

You uncovered your eyes from the curtains of your shaky hands and they found their way to his outstretched hand before settling on the two sapphires that embedded themselves as eyes in his skull. You reached out one of the hands to his, which he used to firmly, yet surprisingly gently, lift you to your feet, pulling you against him to steady you as your legs began to give out. You hadn’t gotten to do much moving the last couple of days, and the concrete had done your muscles and bones no favors. 

Supporting your full weight against his solid frame with an arm around your waist the strongest man in the world helped you outside, failing to push the thoughts of how your body felt against his from his mind to try to be the best hero he could for you right now. When the cool, fresh air sucked into your lungs for the first time in days the tears came harder. Your mind continued to go into hyperdrive as the sirens surrounding you flooded your ears and the cameras of far away yet too close news vans. Your chest began to rise and fall faster as a sob fell from your lips, your lungs desperately attempting to find stability. 

He turned to you as your breaths became more desperate, your eyes darting around at all of the different people, all of the noises, everything happening , frantically trying to make sense of things you didn’t understand – that no one should have to understand. His hands reached to cup your cheeks in his hands and he turned his head down to look at you fully, eyes burning like ice into yours. His thumbs brushed themselves over your cheekbones lightly as his voice dropped so only you could hear him. 

“Hey now, miss,” his voice was gentler, less arrogant yet still confident as he tried to bring you back to Earth. For the first time you understood how so many people could find comfort in this Adonis of a man – this close to him the world didn’t matter because there was nothing that could ever hurt you, because there was nothing that could come close to him. “I need you to breathe with me. Deep breaths, right with me. I know you can do that.”

He was so reassuring, and hearing this man that could truly do anything instill confidence in you being able to do something with him gave your brain a moment of clarity. You nodded your head in his surprisingly soft hands and found yourself incapable of looking away from his eyes as he began to coach you through deep breaths, your body relaxing as the oxygen settled within you and thanking this man by relaxing into the safety of his grasp. When your breathing steadied enough you clenched your eyes closed, tears spilling onto his hands. At another time, in another place, he’d have licked the salty liquid off to sample what you had to offer, but here, in front of these cameras, he was intent on being your perfect hero. 

“Thank you, Homelander,” you managed out with a shaky, unused voice that caused his eyes to close, his fingertips to sink into your skin at your cheeks just a little deeper before he remembered himself and stepped away, swallowing a whine at the loss of warmth beneath his hands. His eyes opened again to meet yours and he gave you his best smile, one that you couldn’t deny made your heart skip a beat, despite where you were and what you’d lived through the days prior. 

“I need you to go to Vought to file a report…to have photos taken of your condition…before we can get you home. The best doctors in the city will take care of you if anything is wrong,” he spoke dutifully, like he had done this a million times because he had , but this time it was more important to him than ever to ensure his words carried weight. To ensure that you felt the safety of him. He dropped his voice lower to continue, “I will be there to take care of you every step of the way.”

All you could do was nod and relinquish yourself to this man – this man who you knew was so dangerous. The reasonable voice in the back of your mind was screaming at you to remember your hatred for him but the horrible, terrified part of your soul that longed to be cared for latched itself onto him, anchoring into the act he was putting on display for you. He steadied you against his frame just as he had before to escort you to a black suv, helping you into the backseat before leaning against the roof to speak into the car to you. 

“These drivers will take good care of you,” his voice was soft, reassuring, coaxing you into relaxation you craved as you felt the first soft surface against your body in days. He noticed how your features relaxed and a light smile played out on his lips briefly. “I will meet you at the Vought medical center when you arrive. I’ll arrive before you.”

“N-no,” your voice was louder than it had been before, desperate to silence the plan he had in mind. Your hand reached out to grab anything you could on his suit, and when the fabric wouldn’t give your hand found its way to his shoulder, grasping like he may disappear at your fingertips at any moment. “Please.”

You were tired and it was all you could manage, but he didn’t need to hear more than those two words from you to understand what you wanted of him – what you needed of him. Your eyes were once again widened with worry, and he found himself slipping into the backseat of the car next to you, shooting a look to the cameras as he went. He didn’t know why he did it – perhaps it would make him look good to be with a victim every step of the way, gain him more points with women. Deep down, however, the supe knew that the real reason he found himself riding in a fucking car to Vought for the first time in so long was because you had choked out the most broken, desperate ‘please’, and he just couldn’t bring himself to refuse you what you wanted. 

It wasn’t long into the drive that Homelander was rewarded for his desperate ploy for your attention when you succumbed to the comfort of the vehicle, falling asleep with light breaths cascading from your lips as your head rolled from the headrest to his shoulder. He’d never felt more justified in his actions than in this moment. He started dreading moving you away from him prematurely, and instructed the drivers to take a longer route. He deserved this moment to last as long as he wanted it to. 

When he was content with the length of the drive, content with the way you seemed to melt into his side as your sleep deepened, he allowed the drivers to return to Vought, where he gently reached a hand up to touch your cheek, voice gentle as he spoke your name to bring you back to consciousness. Forgetting your safety momentarily you jolted awake, hand shooting out to grab his where you clutched it against your face, eyes finding his and realizing yourself again. His hand melted against your cheek and he didn’t mind your grasp around it in the slightest – it’s not like you could ever hurt him or stop him if you really wanted to, and your hands were soft. 

Giving you a moment to center yourself and taking obvious, deep breaths beside you, in this proximity he enjoyed the flecks of color in your eyes and the freckles that formed constellations across your nose and cheeks. He hadn’t noticed these smaller details about you before, and he wondered how many more small details he could find decorating your body, but he once again pushed the thought down before he became too eager. His performance of the day was far from over. 

He released your face from his gentle hold and exited the vehicle first, shooting a look over to the crowds of people holding cameras and phones to see their favorite hero do what he did best. As the door opened you heard the noise from the building again and your breath seemed to catch in your throat again. The bewildered, frantic look returned to your eyes that reminded Homelander of an animal stuck in the path of a predator, and he exhaled deeply, turning back to face the crowd and analyze the best way to address this situation. He’d never turn cameras away from capturing his glory, but you needed to be taken care of by him. 

He offered his hand to you again to direct you to exit the car. You hesitated, unwilling to feel crushed by the weight of the world around you outside of the vehicle, but ultimately slipped your hand into his and allowed him to assist you off of the comfort of the soft seat. His eyes flickered down into yours as he kept you between the car and himself, blocking you from the cameras that awaited your arrival. What a world you lived in where you couldn’t be rescued from being kidnapped without your image being everywhere.

“We’re going to have to walk past them,” he spoke low and direct, leaving no room for a counterargument to his plan. All you could do was stare up into his eyes, surrendering to the fact that you would ultimately listen to whatever he asked of you, not that he really asked. “If you trust me, I can make it more comfortable for you.”

Your head bobbed in a nod before you really thought about what you were agreeing to, unsure still due to the lack of details until he pulled you under his arm, keeping a firm hand around your shoulders as he used his other hand to reach down and wrap his cape up to cover you, shielding you from the harsh world. He smiled his most dashing smile for any cameras he could, all the while speaking soft praises about how well you were doing as the two of you walked toward the building. Several times he declined to stop for a selfie with those who asked, stating that he had a more important job to focus on right now. 

This was definitely why millions of people loved him. This is why people had spent the past year relentlessly attacking you online, saying you had no idea what you were talking about when it came to your criticisms of him. You had said so many horrible things about him and yet today he ripped a door from its hinges from you, and now he was ensuring you made it into the privacy of the building without slipping into another state of panic. He was a hero. Right now he was your hero. 

Once inside he released you from under his cape and spun you back around to face him, his hand resting on your shoulder as his eyes met your face again, scanning for any sign of discomfort. The two of you were immediately joined by a team of people, primarily medical professionals and the Vought equivalent of detectives who started to maneuver you into an elevator. You desperately reached for his forearm, not ready to let him go and relinquish the safety net that he had enveloped you in. He was happy to oblige your need for him and he stepped next to you, mentally noting how your fingernails sank into his skin. He could get used to that.

He stayed next to you for the majority of the day after that. While you were being examined he’d gone to get you water – a whole 32 ounces of electrolyte balanced water and he’d asked you so nicely to drink it. After the medical examination and clearance (you had some bruises he definitely wasn’t privy to or happy about, but that could be addressed later), he’d gone to fetch you some wet wipes and a change of clean clothes, wishing for once that he had a real shirt to provide you with. Of course, he’d stashed your underwear in his suit instead of turning it in with the evidence…surely someone would ask, but it could be covered up. It could always be covered up for him. 

You’d been offered many places to stay tonight other than your own apartment – Maeve’s spare bedroom, Starlight even jumped in to offer her bed (she’d take the couch), Vought offered to pay for a hotel room after being urged to by Homelander. You’d passed on every offer, insisting that you wanted to sleep in your own bed, that you needed to use your shower. You did have one, simple request, however. 

“I…would feel better if you came with me, Homelander,” you’d barely spoken above a whisper, your voice still coarse undoubtedly from the screaming you’d certainly done throughout your ordeal. He couldn’t stop the light smirk that fell across his features at your request, his ego feeling the boost of your desire for him. “If you could check my doors…and windows.”

And so he had escorted you home, once again joining you in the back of an SUV and once again enjoying the heat passing between the closeness of your bodies. Walking into the confines of your apartment punched him in the face with the overwhelming scene of you everywhere, all around him, and he had to close his eyes in the doorway to pull himself together before he set off on his final job of the night – making you feel safe in his absence. 

The door was checked twice, and he pointed out that he would have the locks changed the next day. Each and every window was inspected top to bottom, locked and pulled on, and checked for any cracks before he returned to where you sat on the couch, curled into the corner with a glass of wine in your hand, staring at nothing, your mind actually miles away. He moved to the side of the couch and crouched down, reaching out to touch your arm gently to coax you from your trance. With another jump your eyes found his and a relieved breath passed through your lips. 

“Everything is locked tight…no one is getting in here. I put my phone number on your nightstand…just in case,” he was choosing to act so nonchalant but in actuality his insides were marveling at the way you seemed to be holding on to his every word. Your eyes found his again and he could see the conflict in them, and briefly considered asking you to stay with him, to allow him to protect you…but he knew you’d say no. Staying with him would be too much on top of the last four days. “Try to sleep tonight, your body needs it.”

You nodded and finished the glass in one swift drink, setting the glass on the coffee table before turning your head to look back up at him again, contemplating the questions in your mind that you weren’t entirely ready to face. As you attempted to stand your knees gave out, muscles caving to the pain from sleeping on the concrete floor and from walking the most you had in days for hours. Luckily your hero was there and he had the best reflexes on the planet, and he only had to reach out one arm across your waist to stabilize you, pulling you close to his chest in the process to ensure you didn’t actually fall. As he looked down at you his eyebrows furrowed so quickly a camera would miss it in a genuine show of concern for you. 

“If I leave here tonight, are you going to start falling all over the place?”

You couldn’t help the light laugh that left you with a huff of breath through your nose, and you shook your head, rolling your eyes at his light humor. Laughing at him and enjoying his attention felt wrong, but the part of you that craved his protection shoved the guilt down. “Maybe you can just help me to bed? I probably won’t move once I’m there.”

With a nod he faced you forward and took his place by your side, wrapping an arm across your lower back to steady you as he took you to bed, head swimming with the many different ways he’d rather be carrying out this task – but to truly win you over, he needed to be kind. A gentleman. A true American hero – and he had practice. Once you were comfortably laying against the familiarity of your own bed you released the most delicious, pleasured breath from your lips and Homelander’s heart wrenched at the sound, filled with the desire to work those sounds from you himself. He kneeled next to the bed, face close to yours, eyes serious as he wished you a goodnight in the best way he could while playing this role. 

“I will catch the man that did this to you,” he assured, and noted how your eyes seemed to melt at his declaration of intent to seek justice for you. “And I will make sure he can never hurt you again.”

It had been four days since Homelander had left you alone that night. You opted to stay home, only leaving the walls of your apartment to meet delivery drivers for food. Going to the grocery was not something you were quite ready to tackle. To your surprise, Homelander had not returned (to your knowledge, at least – in actuality he had returned every day, sometimes twice a day, just to peek through that wide open window and hope to see a glance of you) since he’d brought you home that night. While you repeatedly reminded yourself that he was likely trying to capture whomever had done this to you. 

Even still, you found your mind frequently wandering to him – wondering when you’d see him again, swallowing the disgust you felt toward yourself for wanting to see him again, thinking about how safe it felt to be held against him. This fourth night was particularly difficult – you were lonely, yet weren’t ready to face the questions of your usual friends or leave your apartment, for that matter. As you settled yourself onto the couch for yet another old black-and-white film, a knock at the door caused your heart to jump and your stomach to sink. Standing and walking toward the door cautiously, you decided to use your voice before unlocking the new locks that had been installed three days before. Just because Homelander hadn’t been around didn’t mean he wasn’t upholding promises. 

“Who is it?” You tried to sound intimidating, you really did, but the fear was rising in your torso and settling in your chest and you suddenly felt like you weren’t breathing enough at all. You tried to suck in a steady breath, remembering the way Homelander had taught you to do so just days before, as the voice you most wanted to hear sounded through the door.

“I wanted to let you know I found the man,” he stated simply, ignoring the question you’d asked altogether. You didn’t need him to answer it, anyway – the moment you recognized the familiar ring of his voice you were unlocking the doors, and were soon face to face with him. You gulped as you realized this must have been recent, as he was covered in dirt, and a mixture of blood and sweat painted his face and caused pieces of his hair to cling to places it normally didn’t. He continued as you opened the door and his eyes met yours, “he fired a gun at me, so I had to eliminate the threat. He won’t be bothering you again.”

You released that breath you’d been trying to focus on and leaned against the door frame, closing your eyes to take in the news for a moment. Maybe you could go outside again. Maybe you didn’t have to be so afraid. Maybe you’d never meet another man like that again – one willing to create this fear in you. Maybe Homelander would always be around to protect you now. 

And he would. Mentally he knew that now. He couldn’t stay away despite any effort he put into the task. Yesterday he’d told himself he would only stop by your apartment once to check-in on you, needing to put some distance there, needing to get over this infatuation he had. Instead, he’d shown up at your apartment four times that day, finding himself rubbing his cock fiercely and coming over a photo he’d printed of you and him – it had printed in the newspaper and was of the day he rescued you, with his hands cupping your face as he reminded you how to breathe. He was trying to stay away from you, from this human who had created such a response in him, but he couldn’t help himself any longer. He needed your attention, he needed your gratification, he needed to hear you praise him…he needed you to need him. 

And so he’d done what thousands of other men have done in history: he murdered a man to impress and win a woman. He reached out a gloved hand to you to lightly tap your chin, asking you without words to look at him. He needed you to look him in the eyes – he needed to see how you flushed under his attention. You granted his wish and he noticed the tears in your eyes, tears that appeared not to be from sadness, but from gratification. Of relief. Of sheer joy. And it was all because of him. 

“Thank you. I don’t know what to say other than…thank you,” you were bashful under this intense gaze from him and tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as he gave you a smile somewhat different from his normal – somewhat genuine. Somewhat natural. He couldn’t stop himself from catching the tear that fell from one of your eyes on his gloved finger, and he fawned at the way your lips fell open at that simple gesture. His mind could only wonder what your reactions to more serious actions from him would be. Ignoring the thick tension between you he leaned slightly closer, his arm resting above yours on the door frame, towering over you. 

His eyes met yours as he spoke, the smell of him entering your senses – the sweat, the dirt, the blood, but something else there…something alluring. You had to swallow the thought down as his suddenly unscripted, unpracticed, uncalculated words slipped an invitation to hell with him into your ears. “To thank me…you could come to a Vought fundraiser. Tomorrow night. It’s short notice, but I want you there.”

Your lips parted in that way that made them look so kissable again, and he had to resist the urge to dip his head down and sink his teeth into that tempting bottom lip. You seemed to accept that you were in no position to deny him, in no position to question anything he could ask when he’d proven to be your hero, proven to keep his word to you…you would never be able to say another bad thing about him again, and you knew that. He had ensured that the world knew he was your savior, and truthfully, you didn’t mind. He was your hero. He had righted the wrong that was done against you. 

You nodded and tucked another falling piece of hair behind your ear, breathing in the scent of him again and beginning to feel slightly warmer than normal under this intensity of his gaze. “If you have someone send me details, I’ll make sure I’m there. Since…you asked so nicely,” he smiled again as you spoke and you couldn’t help but swoon at these genuine smiles he was giving you so freely right now, wondering how many other people got to see them. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow to…make sure I know what to do?”

You’d call him. The words repeated themselves in his head as he nodded. They repeated themselves for the hours that passed before he spoke to you in the morning. A dress would be at your apartment that afternoon. A car would pick you up for the event at 5:45. The event started at 6:30. And so the hours passed as both of you prepared for the event, both of your minds occupied with the possibilities an evening like this could hold – both of you unsure what these thoughts you were having meant. 

Homelander had followed through and sent you everything you needed – including a dress that felt far too expensive for you, shoes, and a necklace that had the most beautiful, unique white gemstone cut into its center. It was all far too expensive – far too nice – for you, and you elected to opt out of wearing the necklace, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the extravagant gifts. It was easier to collect yourself, to remember the stance you’d had on him for over a year now, when you weren’t frozen in his gaze. If you knew the truth of the desecration that went into Homelander’s chosen attire for you – that he’d rubbed the dress all over his body to cover you in his scent and that the unique gemstone was actually his cum encased and designed to look like a gem – the grand gestures would seem so wholesome and kind. In his mind, however, this was affection…or at least a form of affection he could provide. 

He, of course, arrived at the event far before you did, far before most people did, but immediately began his waiting game for you, itching to see how you looked in the dress he’d chosen for you. When he caught a glimpse of someone’s watch, his jaw briefly clenched, despite the mask he was trying to present to the world right now. 

Where were you? He couldn’t pay attention to whatever this dumb whore was talking about because his mind was burning with questions – were you just running it dangerously close to being late, or were you not truly coming at all? Just as the rage started to bubble in his stomach a new heartbeat entered the room and his head immediately turned to find its owner. When he saw you, he couldn’t have taken his eyes off of you if he wanted to. He gently moved shoved the woman who had been trying to work for his attention out of the way so nothing was in the way of your view of him as you made your way further – closer to him. 

It wasn’t that he was particularly stylish, but he understood what made people look good, and that fact was proven once again by the way that the dress he’d chosen for you made you look tonight. The thin, metallic gold fabric clung and flowed around your body in a way that mimicked liquid. The v-cut line gave enough away to inspire Homelander to drag his tongue across his lips and stand a little taller, but kept enough up to the imagination that he didn’t feel the need to rip the heads off of every man who looked at you. 

But you got closer and more of his senses kicked in, and he soon realized his earlier actions had been rewarded and you smelled so deliciously like him , mixed with the sweet scent of you. As the scent consumed him his cock twitched in his pants and he had to force a smile to cover the real things he was feeling, though anyone would be a fool to think he, or anyone else for that matter, would feel differently looking at you right now. You moved so gracefully, so lavishly as you made your way to him, a small smile dancing on your lips despite your best efforts. It wasn’t often you held the attention of the most famous man in the world.

There were too many eyes on you that weren’t his own and though there was comfort in the delicious mingling of your scents, he needed the room to know you looked this way for him tonight. You wore this dress for him, you’d clearly had your hair done for him, you were wearing the perfect shade of red on your lips for him…it was all for him. You were all for him. Maintaining what slight composure he could hold over himself when you looked like this, he covered the distance between the two of you and looked down at you over his nose, his blue eyes sparkling with something sinister as you looked up at him. 

“I was beginning to worry you weren’t going to show,” his confession caused you to still, your mind still not quite able to process these niceties from him, unable to comprehend that you may have been wrong about him. Giving you his best smile he enticed you to fall deeper into his trap, like a bee clumsily finding her way into a venus fly trap. He offered his arm to you and despite the parts of your brain screaming no you took it, wrapping your hands to clasp together around his bicep. His gloved hand found its way to your lower back, where the dress dipped to right above the curve of your ass, and he made a mental note to himself to take his gloves off at some point in the evening. “You didn’t like the necklace I sent you?”

Your cheeks burned red as you started walking with him, highly aware of all the eyes on the two of you as you made your way to the front of the room where a small stage awaited, surely, him. You shook your head and glanced up at him, voice still soft and timid since your ordeal. It only made him make another mental note – to find a way to make you be louder later. “Oh, it was lovely, I just…”

“Didn’t appreciate it?” 

It was, in some ways, the same arrogant tone that he always used and yet different – insecure, questioning, maybe even a little frightened, and certainly much quieter than usual, much more intentionally for you alone. Your eyes glanced up to his face to find him facing forward, jaw set in a harsh way you hadn’t seen on him in person yet. He always looked so happy, so pleasant, so perfect around you…but now, he looked like a man fighting his own battles like everyone else. 

“I loved it. It was so lovely. Everything is so…lovely,” fell from your lips in a desperate plea for his face to soften, for him to lighten the tension passing between the two of you. His features faltered slightly and his eyes glanced down at you briefly before r eturning to his hardened position. You lowered your voice to ensure only he could hear you. “Everything smelled so…good…when I opened the box from you earlier. That was a nice…touch.”

His lips parted slightly as his head turned down to look at you, shock written clearly across his face from your words of praise for him, in front of all of these people. When he remembered the surrounding guests he closed his mouth but immediately smiled, turning his eyes forward again to lead you abruptly to the right, away from the crowd. Sucking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Homelander chuckled softly, shaking his head slightly. 

“You have no idea what you just did to me,” his voice was low, rumbling, and yet dripping with desperation as he led you away from the event. Finally reaching an elevator he dragged you inside, pressing the button for the floor he needed. Waiting for the elevator to rise for a moment he connected his fist with the emergency stop before turning to face you, placing your body between the wall and him. His eyes dragged down you so slowly as he leaned forward to inhale deeply, allowing a quiet groan to slip through his lips as he exhaled. “You should smell this way all of the time.”

Your body seemed to reach a boiling point immediately at his words, at how close he was, and how he felt like he was staring straight into you, examining exactly what made you tick – it was the only explanation for how he seemed to know exactly what the worst parts of you were crying for deep within. Pulling a glove from one hand he reached out to drag his fingers along your clavicle before flattening his hand at the base of your throat, sliding it up to grasp your jaw and tilt your head back to look at him fully. As he slipped his hand around your head and into your hair he dropped his voice again, “who do you look so gorgeous for tonight? Who made you show up looking so delicious?”

“You,” the affirmation came out as the saddest, most desperate moan that had ever passed through your lips and he smiled, his fingers gripping your hair at the back of your head and bringing you closer to his face. His eyes darted across your face, paying particular attention to your lips, as his free hand reached behind to start the elevator again. “Where…are you taking me?”

“Wherever I want,” was the reply that came from his mouth, quickly dismissing any idea of argument you had in your mind. He leaned his face closer to yours and breathed in deeply, groaning when the elevator door opened. Stepping away from you he gestured for you to exit ahead of him. “Through the door down the hall.”

For a moment part of your brain that was probably correct told you to refuse, to stay on the elevator and take it back down to the event you were here for, to avoid whatever Homelander was shepherding you toward. Your feet, and the embarrassing heat growing in your stomach from how he’d touched you and groaned for you betrayed your brain and delivered you exactly where he’d desired – The Seven meeting room. 

Ignoring the door entirely and closing the distance between you when the realization hit he grabbed you by the back of your head again, voice quiet as he spoke, “why can’t you say nice things about me all of the time, hmm?”

His hand that wasn’t tangling fingers into your hair snaked its way down to your side, pulling you flush against him to which you both released a strangled, breathy moan. The room was on fire and you felt like your skin was melting as he walked you backward toward the table, forcing you to sit on the surface when you got exactly where he wanted you. Leaning over you fully he gave you no time to protest as his lips sought yours in desperation, releasing another groan at the feeling. Everything about him was pulling you in, anchoring you into him further and further and you couldn’t stop yourself from returning his kiss – from giving him what he wanted. 

He didn’t ask to slip his silver tongue into your mouth but you didn’t deny him it either as his hand slid from your hip up to your left breast, squeezing firmly and moaning into your mouth once again. You pulled back, desperate for air right as his fingers pinched your nipple through the fabric of the dress he’d given you, and the most earnest of moans slipped from your mouth as your eyes rolled back, desperately grasping the edge of the table with your fingers. His voice was hurried, flustered, needy and yet so commanding, so precise as he leaned forward to speak in your ear, “you need to take this fucking dress off right now before I tear it to shreds. And I will.”

Your heart skipped and you felt how he huffed out a laugh against your neck briefly before pressing his lips against your neck, eliciting another moan from you. This was all it took from him to make you come undone? He chuckled again as he dragged his lips lower, to that tender spot where your neck and shoulder met where he dragged his teeth lightly, breathing in deeply. Your voice could hardly reach you when you managed out a hurried, “I…I’m not sure if…if this is okay, if we should…be doing this.”

The sound that left him was nothing more than a growl as he stood back over you, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head. His eyes had become the ocean on a stormy night and he looked so dangerous, so much like a predator as he looked down at you, releasing his hold on the back of your head and sliding both hands to your hips. His voice was low, matter-of-fact and offered no hint of compromise as he repeated himself, “you need to take this fucking dress off. Right now. Before I tear it…to little…tiny…shreds. And I will.”

Your hands had already found the zipper at your side before he finished speaking and you lowered it, trying to shimmy the tight fabric down your body as you sat, unwilling to tell him you needed help. He was more observant than that and saw your struggle, lifting you to your feet and effortlessly lifting you up, smirking as the dress fell down your body. Sitting you back on the table he took a step back, drinking in the sight of you on his fucking team’s table. He crossed his arms, raising a hand to rest his chin on it as he looked at you in adoration before continuing with a lighter tone. “That’s better. We just have one thing to talk about.”

As your mind instantly went into a state of mild panic at what he could possibly want to talk to you about he moved to run his hands to your thighs, giving them a squeeze. You couldn’t help but moan quietly and found yourself unable to voice your protests as he used his knee to bump your legs apart, running the hand that remained gloved to your core, slipping it into your panties. As the gloved finger found your clit he pressed firmly, earning another desperate cry from your lips as your eyes widened up at him. He smiled his false innocent smile and rubbed that same finger in a circle, pausing when exactly one circle had been completed. 

“You have said so many mean, ugly things about me on that little podcast of yours,” his voice was laced with disappointment, with genuine anger and a whininess you weren’t aware he could speak with. He rubbed another circle and finally took direction from the gasp that fell from your lips to slip his gloved middle finger down and straight into your pussy. You momentarily clenched at the intrusion but when the sweetest whimper fell from your lips he smirked, and removed the finger all too quickly. “I think I have been the perfect gentleman to you, and I would appreciate it if that depressing podcast could be erased. All of it.”

He reached to switch hands and slid his ungloved hand into your panties, immediately slipping his index finger into you as his gloved hand reached your mouth and he stuck the finger that had been inside you moments ago into your own mouth, groaning at the dumbstruck look that formed on your features as you tasted yourself. Keeping his finger in your mouth he forced your head to nod by placing his thumb under your chin and he looked so proud of himself as he added a second finger and began pumping them in and out of you, cherishing the flustered sounds of mild protest that came from your lips. 

“That’s right, just agree. There’s no use telling me no,” his voice was teasing, low and laced with a sinister tone as he began pistoning his fingers in and out of you, looking down to watch how the digits disappeared within your tight, slick cunt. When he curled his fingers to rub the spongy patch deep within you the moan that left your mouth around his fingers was your loudest yet and he smirked, the blue pools eyes flickering back up to yours. “You sound so fucking pretty for me. Tell me how it feels.“

He removed his finger from your mouth so you could have free reign of your responses now, and he slid that now free hand back to your chest. He cupped a breast in his hand as his head followed the pursuit, leaning to slowly flick his tongue across your nipple, earning a gasp from both of you. You knew if you didn’t respond to his orders he was just going to get angry. “God, Homelander…your fingers feel so good. You’re so good at that.”

Your words of praise went through him like a knife and with a wanton groan his mouth attached itself to your breast, suckling your nipple and flicking his tongue across the sensitive nub as his fingers continued their assault. His fingers pumping in and out of your cunt were causing the most downright pornographic noises from your body as you continued to grow impossibly wetter, your body preparing for the sweet high of release. When his thumb connected with your clit and began rubbing rushed circles he removed his mouth from your breast to look deep into your eyes. 

“I want you to come for me before you take my cock,” was his simple statement as his fingers inside you curled again, hellbent on discovering what made you come undone for him. He could feel your clenching walls around his fingers and the moans falling from your lips told him he’d have you under his spell. “I want you to tell me you’ll delete the podcast, and I’ll let you come, and then I’ll reward you with my cock.”

You couldn’t stop his name leaving your mouth as a moan which only pushed him further — only made him want you even more. With a low growl the speed his fingers were moving picked up as he connected his lips to your neck again, sucking softly at the skin over your pulse. If they didn’t know already, everyone downstairs would certainly know who you belonged to when you returned with his purple masterpieces covering your neck, chest, and shoulders. As the building feeling deep within you reached the point of no return your walls clenched around him and you whined as his fingers left you fully, his eyes glancing up expectantly at you. He wasn’t going to continue without you giving him what he wanted. 

“P-please don’t stop,” were the desperate words that left your mouth as you planted a half kiss against his lips, your breath still leaving you in gentle pants. The heat inside your core was too much and being on the edge wasn’t enough — you needed him to push you. “I’ll delete it. You can delete it, we can delete it just please let me come for you.”

You weren’t coming for yourself, you were coming for him, and your confession earned his fingers entering into you again as he groaned, leading you toward your orgasm as he reached to work his cock free from his pants. With a cracking moan your walls clenched impossibly tighter around his fingers as your orgasm washed over you, panting breaths falling from your lips as the world seemed to melt around you. There was no time to waste (he did have a speech to make, after all) and the moment your orgasm finished you found his fingers exiting to make way for the head of his cock slipping into you. You’d hear the grunt that fell from his lips into your ear for the rest of your life. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he praised, his eyes never leaving the sight of inch by inch of his cock disappearing into you as you moaned again, your hands grasping his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself. If there was any point in arguing you’d tell the man he had to wear a condom, but you knew giving him orders would be futile. His thumb still attached to your clit rubbed a circle again, his lips meeting yours in a gentler kiss as he bottomed out within you, groaning as the head of his cock pushed at your cervix. Surprisingly, he did still to allow your body to adjust to his impaling. “Tell me how it feels.”

His words were desperate, pleading against your lips as one of his hands gripped your waist impossibly hard, surely leaving more purple in their path. The feeling of him stretching yours wall combined with this being the first you’d felt an unprotected cock inside of you had your chest tight, your heartbeat fluttering as you searched for the words he deserved. The words left your mouth in a pleasured sigh. “You feel perfect inside of me, Homelander . Please, please move.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. No longer needing to see how your face reacted to him claiming you, he forced you to flip on the table, your stomach against the cold material as he began to thrust in and out of you, his hips finding the pace that worked for you both almost immediately. His groans were damning and your moans only matched his sin as you pushed back into him, coaxing him to use your cervix as a punching bag. 

One of his hands maintained its position at your waist as the other slid to connect with your neck, moving it to loosely wrap around your throat. The gasp that fell from your lips at the slight pressure of his hand told him to move faster and he did, plummeting into you like this was the only time he’d get to claim you. Without words the two of you knew that would never be the case. You were his now. 

“That’s a good girl,” he purred out as he leaned down to connect his lips to your shoulder blade, sucking a mark in the spot for good measure. You took his praise as scripture and pushed back into him again, earning a deeper angle that resulted in a groan to erupt from his chest again. “That’s my good girl. My golden girl. Are you going to come for me again?”

You could only moan as his hand that had been on your hip slid south to reconnect a thumb to your swollen clit, beginning to rub relentlessly against the nub as his cock continued to be milked by your cunt. It was a good thing you had an implant, because convincing this man to spill his cum anywhere other than deep within you would have been pointless. To him, the best reward he could give you when you were being so good for him was his hot load deep within you. You should be so lucky to have his seed inside you. 

“Yes,” you managed to breath out, your words hinting at your desperation for another release. His grasp on your neck tightened and despite that you fought to coax him toward his own finish alongside you. “You feel so good. You fuck me just right. P-please give me your cum, Homelander.”

The sound that erupted from him was probably best described as a roar as he picked up his pace, trying to remind himself not to break you but unable to stop the ferocity at which he began pounding into you. As the world shrunk to only this room and the two of you in it the euphoric state began to wash over you once again and you felt your walls clench around him, his name leaving your mouth as a scream. Hoping that everyone downstairs could hear you, hear what he was doing to you, he gave another harsh thrust before painting your walls with his cum, his movements becoming sloppy as he worked every last drop out of himself. 

When he was certain he’d finished he removed himself from you, tucking his cock within his pants and grabbing your panties from around your ankles and raising them to their rightful place again just as his seed began to leak from you. His hand found its way to your cheek and his thumb brushed a gentle line across your cheekbone, his lips lowering to yours in a kiss. His words showed no sign of tiredness from his time with you.

“You’re going to keep those panties on and my cum is going to stay in them all night,” he placed another kiss to the corner of your mouth before continuing. “We’re going to go downstairs, we’re going to be the perfect couple for these fucking ingrates, and then you’re going to take me to your apartment so we can delete that podcast.”

As you re-entered the elevator with him your eyes connected with the smashed emergency stop button before drifting back up to him, soaking in the proud look that covered his face as he leaned against the elevator wall. A realization washer over you as your eyes cling to him like a sculpture in a museum — you were completely fucked.

Fucked, as it turned out, was a slight understatement. The moment the elevator doors had opened and the two of you stepped out he had wrapped an arm securely around your waist, holding you against him as he made his way back to the center of the room where a round stage was awaiting him. The event had gone on in your absence and the room was full to the brim with Supes and people kissing their asses. 

There was no rush to his step as he proudly displayed you to everyone who could see, stopping to say hello and make pleasant, drawn out introductions to seemingly anyone who asked. His arm maintained its hold around your waist the entire time, his fingers occasionally pressing harder into you. The purple hickeys decorating your neck and shoulders went unnoticed by none.

By the time you made it to the center of the room it was time for him to give his speech, and he made sure to give your side a brief squeeze before leaving you next to The Deep…one of the only idiots he still felt he truly had control of. His eyes connected perfectly with camera after camera as he monologued for several minutes about the honor it was to protect New York City. When it was clear he was wrapping things up he stepped to the edge of the stage in front of you, his eyes meeting yours once more as he tapped your nose.

“Mostly, I have to say the best part about the job is getting to save the beautiful people of this city,” he practically cooed, his gloved hand cupping your face in a gesture that caused the cameras around you to flash and several voices to "aw."

There were immediately noticeable perks to being this close to Homelander, and even you couldn’t ignore him. People were more respectful to you, and consistently prepared to shower you with compliments at his prompt – “Doesn’t she look so lovely tonight?”. Men kept their eyes anywhere away from anywhere that wasn’t your face, afraid what offering true appreciation toward you would bring unto them. You were constantly brought snacks on trays to choose from and had three glasses of champagne before he decided to cut you off.

“I don’t need my golden girl sloppy for me tonight,” he tutted quietly, leaning from behind you so his mouth nearly connected with your ear. You could hear the smile in his voice that formed when your heart rate picked up and goosebumps decorated your skin. “I hope you haven’t forgotten that I’m not done with you.”

It was only a mere two hours before he decided it was time for the two of you to leave. It took a considerable amount of back and forth between the two of you before he conceded to allow you to take a car back to your place. As he helped you into the back of the SUV with a hand on the small of your back he pressed a firm kiss to the side of your head, leaning in to buckle you into the seat. His voice was once again lower, free of the light lilt he used to be camera ready.

“You know,” just those two words dripped with sarcasm and you knew whatever was to follow would match. “You’d be safer flying with me than driving around in these big metal death boxes. Some junkie could hit you with a truck…and what, you really think I’m going to drop you?”

A soft laugh fell from his lips before he pressed a final kiss to your forehead, withdrawing from the car before taking off into the sky. Finally alone you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, laying your head back and closing your eyes as you soaked in these moments alone, processing the evening. The more familiar your surroundings became the more your worries grew, remembering what he had promised to do. Your heart was pounding by the time you stepped out of the car, the cool air sending a chill down your spine.

From the sidewalk you could see the silhouette of Homelander standing on your rooftop, awaiting your arrival with his arms crossed firmly behind his back. You were certain he could hear you as you made your way inside, leaning against the wall of the elevator and preparing yourself for what awaited you – not that anything could really prepare you for what awaited you. When you exited the elevator and rounded the corner toward your apartment you nearly froze at the sight of your door wide open, his star-spangled back waiting for you in the doorway already. 

When you approached the doorway yourself he finally turned, his eyebrows pulled together and his mouth set in a hard line. The annoyance in his voice was evident, and now that you were truly alone his voice was free of any mask. As you closed the door his right hand raised, the necklace he had sent to you dangling from his fingertips, his gloves having been placed on one of your counters.

“I wished this was on you all night,” his voice rumbled in your ears as he stepped closer to you, circling around you much like a predator. As he stepped around behind you he brushed your hair away from your neck, placing himself right up against your backside. “Hold up your hair so I can see how perfect you could have looked.”

Your cheeks burned hot as you reached behind yourself to lift your hair into your hand, your fingers shaking lightly with the nervousness of the situation. The metal of the necklace was cool against your skin as he placed the delicate chain around your neck, fastening it with little fuss. His hands slid across your shoulders and down your arms before turning you to face him, his eyes eagerly dragging downward toward your chest.

His hands reached to grasp your hips, pulling you forward toward him with a hum of approval as he soaked in the experience that was you wearing exactly what he wanted and already covered by purple hickeys from him. Lowering his head he crashed his lips into yours, grasping you tighter as if he feared you may try to stop him – not that you could. Your lips were still tender and lightly bruised from your earlier kisses and yet you pushed yourself to return his kiss, unwilling to leave him feeling rejected. 

As his tongue worked your lips open one of his hands slid to work the zipper to your dress, eager to see you on full display for him again. As he tasted the remnants of champagne and chocolate on your tongue the dress fell to the floor, making up for you removing your heels by lifting you to his height with ease. As he pulled away from the kiss he released another hum of approval at the warmth of your body even through his suit – but it wasn’t enough. 

Taking a few steps further into your apartment he placed you on the kitchen island, spreading your thighs when you instinctively closed them. His voice was firm, commanding, and somehow laced with desperation as he took a few steps away from you, beginning to remove his suit. “That bra and those panties better be off by the time I make my way back over there…” he huffed out, his eyes now cloudy with lust as he watched your fingers immediately set in on the task. 

When you released your breasts from their restraints and tossed the fabric to the side you noticed how his hands faltered, his breath catching at the full sight of your breasts accompanied by the necklace hanging just above them. Running his eyes down you again he removed his own boots, lifting the torso of his suit up and off with slight hesitation. 

He hadn’t been barred to you this way before and he caught the way your breath caught in your throat and your heart rate skipped momentarily at the sight of him. The way your body responded to him was a sweet compliment, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the need he had to hear everything you were thinking. It was impossible to mask the desperation in his voice as he barked out another order to you, his voice slightly breathless. 

“Tell me what you think,” he begged, his blue eyes meeting yours as he worked his boots off, kneeling as he did so. It ended up being the perfect height for him to receive the beautiful view that was presented by you removing your panties and tossing them across the apartment. “About how I look without the suit.”

Feeling self conscious about how exposed you were to him as he stood up and dragged his eyes across your body you moved to play with your hair, aware covering yourself would make him angry. His hands moved to work his pants free from his body as you bit your lip, your cheeks heating up as he truly started to just look like a normal guy, albeit an incredibly attractive one. His eyebrows beginning to pull together again was your cue that you were taking too long to respond.

“You’re…a very attractive man, Homelander,” you breathed out, an unfamiliar tone of submission filling your voice. His pants dropped to the floor at your words and his cock sprang free, giving a slight twitch at your compliment. Your eyes met his and with that simple look you knew what you’d given wasn’t enough. At the same time, you found yourself unable to give more, unsure what words would be enough for him and still figuring out how to navigate around him. 

Resorting to a more universal language you beckoned him forward, your hands seeking out the firm muscles on his biceps to pull him closer to you as you placed a soft, experimental kiss to his chest. Tilting your head barely backward, your eyes sought his to find his filled with hunger, his hands finding your shoulders to hold you closer. Leaning downward he placed a firm kiss to your forehead which instantly buried your worries that you weren’t doing enough, only to have them reignited as he pulled you from the counter, carrying you across your apartment. You assumed he was headed toward your bed, but as he approached your desk and sat your ass against the cool glass top you were quickly reminded of his real reason for being here.

The podcast.

Sinking into the chair you’d spent so many hours of your life in he clicked your computer to life as his eyes scanned every inch of your torso that he was granted access to earlier in the evening. Keeping his right hand on the computer mouse he reached his other hand lazily to your chest, cupping one of your breasts and rubbing his thumb over the nipple as he pulled up various websites – your website, your YouTube channel, Twitter, and the DropBox you kept everything stored in. Once satisfied he had everything on the screen he needed he pulled you closer to the edge of the desk, sliding the chair to the side to sit in front of you. 

He hadn’t gotten the proper opportunity to showcase to you exactly how much he appreciated your breasts, and decided the podcast could wait just a few minutes longer while he took this moment to do so. His hands – almost lovingly – slid up your stomach to eventually cup both of your breasts, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest at the feeling of the soft tissue beneath his fingertips. Satisfied that he couldn’t fit them in his hands fully he began to knead into them lightly eyes seeking yours again. 

His mouth pressed hot and wet kisses down the space between your breasts before he turned, eagerly taking your already hardened nipple into his mouth and circling the nub with his tongue. With a moan he began suckling, rolling your other nipple between his fingers in his other hand. He continued his attention on your breasts for a few moments before pulling his mouth away, dragging your nipple between his teeth as he did so. His voice was desperate, unhinged, and a tone you had only heard him use for you – in a way, it was special, and you recognized it as such.

“Come here, you remarkable little -” he tried to purr before he cut himself off, forgetting his intended term as he chose to suck a purple mark into the side of your breast, easing the brief pain with a light brush of his tongue across the skin.

Grasping his cock in his hand he motioned for you to come to him, which you found yourself almost eager to oblige. Climbing into his lap to straddle him you found the head of his cock slipped into you almost with ease as you were already embarrassingly wet from the attention he had been providing you with. A sinful groan slipped past his lips as your walls welcomed him in again, both hands grasping your hips to steady you. 

“So fucking tight,” he practically whined, lowering his face into your neck to make an attempt at covering such a pathetic noise. As you accepted inch by inch of him again another whine left his chest and his teeth brushed against the hollow of your neck before you’d taken all of him, his well-trimmed curls brushing against your clit. When he was completely inside you he reached behind you to press play on one of the podcast episodes, using his other hand to hold you still. He chuckled at your feeble attempt to move your hips against his, forgetting for a moment who was holding you. “I wish I could fuck you, sweetheart, but…we have to take care of this podcast first, don’t we? I wish we didn’t, but we do.”

You whined and stilled your attempt at movements as your eyes met his, a small nod giving him enough of a response at the current moment. Bringing your hands up to his shoulders you clutched to him, prepared to raise yourself off of him at his instruction. Another chuckle left his lips as he shook his head, his hand holding you down to him. His voice, while still low and desperate, was now full of affection and adoration as he spoke to you. 

“Oh no, baby…you’re staying right here, with me inside of you…feels too good,” he breathed out deep, leaning forward so your foreheads connected in a moment of what at any other time would be considered intimacy. Now, however, your own voice was filling your ears from the speakers of your computer, an episode of the podcast you’d made months ago playing in the background. “But you’re going to apologize for all of these mean things you’ve said about me.”

Almost on cue your voice from the past said words you remembered saying well – “Homelander is everything wrong with superheroes.” His eyes were pained as he heard the words once again, his head shaking. To his surprise, he didn’t even have to prompt the words from you. 

“I’m sorry, Homelander,” you breathed out quietly, closing your eyes tightly and anticipating an explosion from him as he withdrew his forehead from yours. With firm and swift movements he pushed your head against his shoulder, his fingers lacing into your hair to hold you against him as he focused his attention on deleting content.

It went on like that for over an hour, with him inside you, holding you closely and playing clips of your own words while you apologized to him with words, gentle kisses, and soft caresses. Eventually, there was only one episode left – and you recognized the episode from the title alone when he read it aloud. 

“This is what confuses me, darling,” he stated plainly, pulling your hair slightly to tilt your head back to fix your gaze on his. His other hand pressed play as his icy eyes met yours once again, his eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. “In parts of your podcast you say some really intelligent, hard-hitting stuff.”

“If there’s anyone on this planet who is a bigger fraud than Homelander it is Stan Edgar himself, who should absolutely be looked at for a litany of legal and ethical issues – yet somehow manages to live above everyone.”

“I was so proud of you the first time I heard you say that,” his words were genuine, the look in his eyes matching the tone as he brought one hand up to cup your cheek. He paused the podcast for a moment to brush his thumb across your cheek, his movements slow and intentional. “How could you possibly say something so intelligent, so brave for someone with no powers…only to follow it up with something as cruel as this.”

He didn’t need to press play for you to know the words you were about to hear from yourself.

“I do have to say that some days I just feel bad…because Homelander is definitely the result of someone who wasn’t hugged enough as a child.”

As soon as that phrase was done he pressed delete, removing the last of the official evidence of your podcast from the internet. His eyes stayed on yours and you noticed how his features twitched involuntarily, a trait that seemed to happen when he was attempting to cover an annoyance. Was there an apology that could suffice for that one?

“Homelander, I -”

“Shut up,” it was firm, unquestionable and even slightly threatening as he stood from the chair, keeping his hold on you steady so his cock remained buried in you as he made his way to your bed. To your surprise he laid on his back, allowing you to straddle his waist and lean over him. His eyes immediately went to your breasts, his tongue darting out to slicken his lips. “Do you want to apologize to me?”

“Yes,” your response was pathetically fast and little more than a whine, eager to do anything to take the edge off of his voice again. You would have never guessed his next words, nor would you have expected the dripping desperation in his tone. 

“Use my cock to come,” he whined, his hands now eagerly grabbing for your breasts to pull you closer, his mouth seeking the soft flesh of your breasts again. His face was mostly hidden by the flesh of your breasts as he ran his tongue over one of your nipples, his voice barely audible as he begged in a way he had done for so few in his life. “Please, take what you want just…tell me how good I am.”

Finally free to move as you pleased you immediately ground your waist down into his, moaning at the feeling of him finally moving inside you slightly. With a moan of his own he took the nipple he’d yet to pay attention to into his mouth, suckling eagerly and stealing a glance up into your face. As the two of you reached orgasms together, his eyes rolling back as his hands grasped your hips in an impossibly hard grasp, his hot seed painting your inner walls like his own personal art display. Finally releasing his mouth from your breast he whined quietly as his head leaned against your chest, soaking in a true moment of comfort. He had only experienced a few moments like these in his life, but this one was the most authentic, the most unscripted, and Homelander resigned himself to having at least a thousand more moments like these.

You had a new routine to get used to over the following weeks, and by the time December came around there was no leaving your apartment without the flash of cameras or strangers pretending they knew you. It was often too much, the attention and niceties you were paid everyday by people who weeks ago would never have paid any mind to you overwhelming you and making you wish for a moment to yourself. If you were lucky, Homelander would show up in these moments and instruct those around you to “stop their fussing”, adding another entry onto the perks of being with Homelander list.

In these beginning weeks he was being kind enough to allow you your own space still, and you had continued to sleep at your apartment, though it was seldom alone. Which is why when he told you that you’d be alone for two weeks while he accompanied a politician to Europe, it was almost panic-inducing to think about 14 days without him, and what that would mean for you. It wasn’t surprising when he instructed you that you’d spend the time in his apartment, which you had only briefly stopped into once thus far. He promised Ashley or The Deep would check-in on you daily and that you’d have everything you needed (except for him). 

The night before he left he had displayed a moment of fear and weakness for you again, this time choosing to act out the frustration by fucking you so hard on his couch you’d be forced to stay in Vought Tower for at least a couple of days. For the first three days he was rewarded for his efforts during your nightly calls to hear that you’d really stayed in his apartment thus far, lounging on the couch and whining that he’d bruised you with his “super dick” – you could hear the smile and pride in his voice at your words, though you hardly meant them as a compliment. On the fourth day you were in better spirits, and had apparently invited The Deep to stay around for dinner – it was the first time Homelander had been forced to feel jealous over you.

“Well, I guess you don’t need me to come home, then,” he tried to cover the pain in his voice with indifference, though at this point he couldn’t get away with that with you. Still, his pride insisted he try. “I guess you prefer The Deep’s company, hmm? You replaced me quickly.”

“There is no replacement for you, Homelander,” you’d cooed, instantly soothing over the insecurity he felt and reassuring him that he had truly won you. There was no fighting the smile that spread on his face as you giggled, continuing with your kindness toward him. “As if The Deep could ever compare to you – as if anyone could come close to you.”

That particular phone call had stretched out to over an hour of you giving into his need for reassurance, filling the passing time with compliments and wishes that he would come home – filling the passing time with whatever he needed. Thus far, you had mostly managed to avoid driving him too far to anger, and he did reward you lavishly by ensuring you continued to want for nothing. The phone call ended with you confirming you were still sore from your last morning together, which had made his cock twitch in his pants.

After a week of you still feeling sore he was beginning to worry that he may have taken it a bit too far, and had even nearly expressed such when you whined on the phone to him once again, but insisted that you would be fine. For one of the first times in his life Homelander was genuinely worried about someone, and opted to call you on the ninth day much earlier than he had thus far. He expected you to sound surprised, yes, but he didn’t expect you to not be in his apartment – and he especially didn’t expect you to not be alone. 

The voice he heard in the background of the phone call was clearly a man, and he was telling you he hoped you’d feel much better now. Despite the fact that Homelander desperately wanted to hear your voice he had hung up the phone immediately, leaving the boring, old ass building he was stationed in for the remainder of his trip to launch himself into the sky, his only focus returning to you – Vought and the entire U.S. government be damned. Seeing as you couldn’t get Homelander to answer your return call, you figured he must have gotten busy and had returned back to his apartment once your afternoon of errands was complete, intent on finally relaxing.

When he landed on the main balcony attached to his own apartment the sun had set, and yet none of the anger boiling within him had subsided. He stilled for a moment, focusing his ears on the sounds he could hear from inside. On the surface there was enough going on for him to know you were inside – a record from the 50s he recognized from you playing it before, the sounds of water filling a tub…you were inside relaxing in his apartment after having the audacity to betray him. Focusing deeper, he finally heard your heartbeat – alone – and the soothing rhythmic beat he’d grown to recognize and adore over the last few weeks nearly calmed him. Nearly.

Forcing the door open he stepped inside, his anger nearly faltered once more at the lingering smell of you overwhelmed him. Hearing the broken door had caused you to rise from the filling bath, turning the water off and clutching a towel around yourself as you walked with wet feet into the dark hallway, calling out a soft ‘hello’ into the night. You weren’t greeted with words – instead, from the darkness emerged two glowing red lights, and as they approached closer you backed yourself against a wall. 

The red glow against his features, all of which were hard set in clear annoyance and anger, made you remember the horrible things he was capable of, none of which you were equipped to handle. When you realized there was nowhere left for you to step, you closed your eyes, holding a deep breath as you prepared for whatever was to come. When you felt him in front of you you were certain your heart would burst, until you felt his hand on your cheek, and heard the pain behind his voice. 

“Who is the man you were with today? And don’t you dare fucking lie to me,” his fingertips dug into your skin lightly, your eyes still closed tight for fear you’d be met with glowing red. “I’ll know if you’re lying to me. Look at me.”

With an elevating heart rate you slowly forced your eyes open, and despite expecting your own pain, instead you were faced with his. His blue eyes were wide, contrasting to the harsh line of his mouth, and tears were threatening to spill down his cheeks. Where you had expected to find anger and harshness you were faced with the broken pieces of him, which only raised a further question – which was worse between his red-hot anger or his jagged, broken edges?

You began to raise your hands to his shoulders tentatively, your fingers shaking as your brain screamed at you to just stay still and answer him. Honesty, however, was not the only thing Homelander needed – he needed love, and the look behind his eyes proved it to you. This was him – the real him. The realization that you were wearing his necklace had helped level his head somewhat – but the sternness in his features let you know you needed to answer, quickly.

“The man you heard in the background was the pharmacist,” your voice was soft, hands settling on the sides of his neck lightly in the hopes that skin-to-skin contact would settle him further. “I went to the gynecologist this morning because I was still…sore. From the morning you left.”

His features noticeably softened, a new look of curiosity forming on his features that pulled his eyebrows together slightly. So far, he was content that you were being honest – but you weren’t giving him enough information, either, and the annoyance that lingered was evident in his voice. “Did the doctor have an answer for you?” 

Nodding, you hesitantly reached up to lace your fingers in his hair with one hand, your eyes cautiously watching his every reaction. Still, you held strong and continued your commitment to answering his questions – despite the fact this was information you had initially planned to keep from him.

“I…we…you,” you breathed out carefully, choosing the words for your explanation carefully. “You…broke my birth control implant…probably that morning based on when the pain started. It had to be removed and so…they prescribed pain medication for a few days.”

It was impossible to miss the hunger that flashed in his eyes, or the low rumble to his voice. “And did they replace it? The implant?”

“No.”

His hand left your cheek and he took a step back from you to drag his eyes down your body. Aware that meant he was likely being invasive and using x-ray vision to see for himself you suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed, and your cheeks burned red to emphasize the fact. When his eyes met yours again he was pulling the gloves away from his hands, tossing them to a nearby surface so he could step close to you again and cradle your face with his bare hands. 

For a moment his eyes expressed only conflict as they burned into yours, his fingertips digging a little too deeply into your skin as he analyzed the conversation – as he thought about his feelings. Moments of silence passed before his emotions seemed to land on entirely new territory – new territory for you, at least. His thumbs tenderly brushed along your cheek bones, his grasp lightening as an almost sinister smile spread across his face. 

“So exactly what is going to stop me,” he started, leaning forward to brush the tip of his nose against yours lightly. You were keenly aware that he was being entirely too nice. “From getting you pregnant?”

A shaky breath slid past your lips as he placed a light kiss to the corner of your mouth, sliding one of his hands down to take hold of the towel that was wrapped around you. Your voice was embarrassingly small. “I guess...you’ll have to…to use a condom or pull out?”

A deep laugh burst through his chest that rumbled against your own torso now that he was flush against you, his lips kissing a small trail to your ear where he pulled the lobe between his teeth for a moment before growling out a quiet, “No.”

One swift movement from his hand and the towel was on the floor, goosebumps immediately forming across your skin at the cool air. With a hum of approval at your lack of covering now he turned his head, connecting his lips to yours in a starved kiss. It was nature now for your lips to part for him and allow his tongue entry, and the two of you shared a heated kiss until you were breathless as he carried you to a room you’d yet to see, as you had spent your time in his apartment in a guest room – his bedroom. 

“You were supposed to be gone for five more days,” you breathed against his lips, working some of the few buttons on his suit that you’d grown to understand. Pushing you onto an oversized bed with satin sheets, he began to work at his own suit, a cocky smirk covering his face.

“If you think I’m going to stay away when I hear another man in the background on my girl’s phone…you must not know me very well,” he shook his head as his boots were kicked to the side, his movements a little more desperate and uncalculated than they’d previously been with you. When his pants were pushed to the floor he continued. “You’ve got another thing coming, doll.”

His torso took too long to free and by the time he was climbing onto the bed with you he was starved, desperate to devour any part of you his mouth could connect to. His lips pressed firm and intentional kisses along the insides of your thighs as he made his way to your sweet core. Running a stripe through your folds with his tongue his eyes searched for yours as his hands reached to caress your breasts, a quiet hum vibrating your skin as a moan left your lips. 

It was truly as if he hadn’t eaten for days, his tongue thoroughly swiping along every inch you had to offer, savoring every drop of arousal that came across his tongue, alternating to suck your clit softly. He hadn’t been this hungry for you until now, and it took him no time to cause a rising heat to build in your core. Your fingers found their way into his hair and you threw your head back as he began to fuck into you with his tongue, moaning in appreciation at the noises you made for him. 

His way of thanking you for not needing the instruction to come against his tongue was to slip a finger into you, curling it right against your tender spot deep within as you threw your head back for him. “ Oh, god… ”

Sucking your clit into his mouth once more with a sinful noise his eyes found yours once more as he leaned back, grasping his cock in his hand. “No, not god,” he breathed, beginning to stroke himself in preparation for you. He leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips, his eyes closing as he rubbed the head of his cock against your opening. His voice was hardly above a whisper against your lips as he began to slip inside of you. “Not god, not Homelander…John.”

You moaned out his name for the first time, and he clutched to your sides as he forced himself to behave tenderly and slowly with you, aware that you must still be sore. Burying his face in your neck to place soft kisses he eased in inch by inch until he was fully within you, finding the comfort that only you could bring him. For a moment he stilled, enjoying the feeling of simply being encompassed by your warm walls, before he slowly, lazily began dragging his hips back and forth. 

He hadn’t been rhythmic like this with you before, his movements always thought out well in advance for the maximum impact. Now, however, his movements only aimed to bask in this moment with you, this moment where he could truly claim you for the first time in his mind. Lifting your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist to beckon him deeper you found yourself unable to do little more than moan his name and claw at his back. 

Trying impossibly to push into you deeper he held you against him, leaning down to suckle one of your nipples into his mouth as his movements picked up some speed. As he flicked his tongue over your nipple his blue eyes gazed adoringly up into your own, grinding against you to hit that perfect spot deep within you. You rewarded him for his effort by moaning out his name again and clenching your walls ever-so-slightly tighter, but he was greedy for everything you had – and he needed more. 

“Please,” was all he could beg you for, his hands grasping at your hips as he tried to do anything he could to pull you closer. His lips reached for yours in a wet, heated kiss which he cut shorter than he truly wanted to await your response. 

“I missed you inside of me so much,” you whined, meeting a couple of his thrusts by raising your hips at the same time, moving one hand to the back of his head. Pulling your head back slightly you were able to take in the sight of his sweat-slicked, messy hair and the way his lips were parted slightly. Seeing him this way, in a way you knew could only truly be for you, added a new depth to the dynamic between the two of you – and though for you that could go unspoken, for him, hearing it was everything. “Want…want you like this every day.”

His fluid movements were coaxing another orgasm from you and your words could hardly leave as more than strangled whines, but you had given him everything he needed and in a sign of appreciation he picked up his speed. Normally, he only restrained himself enough to not completely break you, but tonight he was truly making an effort to reign in his strength and make sure his thrusts were enjoyable for the both of you, and you could tell. 

His grunts confirmed that this worked for him, too, and it wasn’t terribly long before your legs were shaking around him, a second orgasm rushing through your body. When he felt your walls tighten around him as you rode out your high by thrusting sloppily up into him he could barely restrain himself, knowing that his own release was chasing yours. 

“Tell me…tell me that you want my cum,” he moaned, burying his face in your neck in preparation of being unable to hold back anymore. All you could manage in your fucked-out buzz was was a quiet ‘yes’ and a kiss to the top of his head as his orgasm rushed through him, painting your inner walls white with hot ropes of cum. 

When he was certain both of you had finished your orgasms he slowly removed himself from you, laying on his side next to you to keep his gaze transfixed on your bliss-filled face as you returned to earth. With your eyes closed, you had no visual warning when his fingers slipped back to your core, his middle finger pushing the cum that was leaking from you back inside. When your eyes flew open in question he leaned over to place a soft kiss to your lips, leaning his forehead against yours in a moment of intimacy. 

When he was satisfied with the amount of times he’d repeated this motion he left only long enough to get a towel for you, tenderly wiping your legs and discarding the towel before crawling back into the bed next to you. Laying his head on your chest he closed his eyes as you began running your fingers through his hair, enjoying a rare true moment of peace. Eventually, he pulled you to roll you to your side, his hand finding its way to your cheek again.

“I would like…” he started, clearly having been deciding on his words for several of the quiet moments that had passed between the two of you. Sliding the hand that was on your cheek back into your hair and running his fingers through the strands gently he continued on, his normal confidence wavering slightly. “I would like for you to call this home.”

masterlist.

[hottestvirgin]

17 + anton pls :)

𐙚 prompt #17 | “i’ve never been with someone so big before.”

𐙚 nerd!anton x reader

anton lifts his hand to push his glasses up, pressing them against his face with a shaky breath to make sure that his sight was clear enough to watch you sink down onto his fat cock. his hands rests on your waist as he’s too nervous to grip them. he’s avoiding your intense glare until he’s fully inside of you.

taking in a long deep breath, you seductively meet his gaze. “you’re so big,” you mewl, slowly rocking your hips and earning a desperate whine from him, “i’ve never been with someone so big before.”

pride slaps anton hard across his face and he tightens his fingers on your waist, gasping at the pleasure. “hah, feels good.” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. the wet squelching noises makes anton’s stomach churn in arousal.

“feel how wet i am for you?” a teasing smirk plasters on your face when you grab his hands and make them touch your tits. he squeezes them warily, thumbs grazing over your nipples. “yes..” he answers.

another whine leaves his mouth when you clench hard around him, bouncing desperately on his big cock with soft moans. he was stretching you so deliciously— each drag had you whining in pain. “are you okay?” anton questions, noticing the way you struggled to ride him. nodding your head, “i love your cock so much..” you confess.

now, he was embarrassingly getting closer and closer and couldn’t keep his needy hands off of you nor hold back the orgasm that threatened to release any minute.

anton takes a deep breath before speaking, “i think i’m gonna cum..” he feels himself already at the edge, and doesn’t think he can hold on any longer. he can feel your warm walls pulsing around his cock and it absolutely drives him crazy, “i don’t wanna finish before you.”

biting back your lip with a sly smile, “it’s okay. just fill me up..” you tell him. his breath hitches at your words and he groans, squeezing your hips and painting your walls with his load while his body twitches beneath you.

“there you go. you did so good.” you praise. raising off of his lap, you sit back and spread your legs to show him his huge load gushing out of you. “now come eat your cum out of me.”

[violetarks]

hello hello!! congrats on 3k. i love your work so much so you deserve it!! ^_^

if it’s okay could i request luka from alien stage with miscommunication & high school au? ( ´ ▽ ` ) and if it’s okay could the reader be amab? thank you!!

congrats again!!ヽ(；▽；)ノ✨✨💖💖

“but we can’t take back all the words that we said!”

show: alien stage

character: luka

summary: you overhear luka tell his friends that he missed being in ‘the single league’.

warnings: g/n! reader, no pronouns used (i didn’t end up put any gender indications at all, i hope that’s okay!!), miscommunication, high school! au, hurt/comfort, angst/comfort, reader is very self-conscious, established relationship, popstar! luka, he’s nicer in this au LMAO

"are you kidding me?" luka laughs out from inside the classroom.

you recognised that sound from anywhere. it was lunch time and you had told your boyfriend that, as class president, you had to prepare some things for the upcoming school festival during lunch, so you wouldn't be able to eat with him. he was a bit whiney and teasing, but soon let you go. you thought he'd be with some of his friends from his choir class, but no; he was in the classroom with a few of his peers.

you stop before you enter to talk to him for a bit. you were wondering what he was doing here.

"i mean, it's a bit hard, isn't it?" someone says.

"i wouldn't say it's hard," luka sighs out, "it's just a bit of a hassle trying to work around other people."

you're even more curious now. you hold your clipboard to your chest and wait to hear more.

"do you ever miss it? being on your own?" another person asks.

you stop, even halting your breathing in case he would stop talking because you were there.

dating someone as popular as luka was hard, but it was worth it. he was such a handsome guy and had an even sweeter voice. it was hard not to fall for him. you felt lucky enough that he loved you too. he was always on tv or always in the studio, and he brought you along too. you wondered the same thing sometimes; did he miss not being in a relationship?

you weren't a jealous person, but you didn't enjoy luka having a partner in music videos or anything. you had told him such, and he told you that he could fix that. maybe he didn't like the hassle.

"oh, of course," he replies far more quicker than you'd like, "i'd much rather be a single idol. i could do whatever i want, but now… i always gotta’ think of others. such a pain…"

the others around him begin to ask questions about why, but you only stand still. hearing it for yourself only confirms it; luka didn't really want to be with you. it only made his life harder. you somehow always knew that.

he probably didn't want to be rude in fear that you might spread something around to everyone that he was a bad boyfriend and ruin his reputation. or maybe he was just bored.

after all, you weren’t a popstar like him. you were just another student.

“y/n, hey,” mizi and sua turn the corner to see you. the pink-haired girl holds out a pamphlet to you with a smile. “here, this is what we came up with for the concert. is it okay?”

you take it from her and try to ignore the tears threatening to spill. you don't care to stay and listen to more. instead, you turn around and walk away with the girls at your side. you couldn't let him know that you knew, not until you were ready.

after school, luka is waiting at your locker. he is leaning against the wall and scrolling on his phone with his bag on his shoulder. once you're close enough, he tucks his phone away and smiles.

"hey, pretty thing," he greets you as you put your books away, "how was your little presidential duty?"

"it was fine," you retort shortly as you pack up your things, "don't you have a recording today?"

"oh, uh, yeah," he says as he watches your face, "it's later though, i can walk you home."

"it's okay, luka, i need to do some things before i go home anyway," you state as you shut your locker. you look back to him and his pretty face that tilts at you. it takes everything in you to not show that you’re upset. “i’ll see you on monday.”

“hey, wait,” he grasps your wrist as you try to walk passed him. he’s a music sensation, he knows when people are upset and when people are angry with him. you have both of those looks on you. “what about…?”

you two are supposed to go out together on sunday. you had organised something this time — a nice picnic by the lake. the both of you were so excited for it. until now, that is.

“oh, right,” you sigh out. he freezes as you lean closer to him and press a kiss to his cheek. “have fun.”

with that, you slip out of his grasp and leave. luka doesn’t call out. maybe you were just not in the mood, or it slipped your mind and you would come to your senses later.

he texts you when he gets home, when he leaves two hours later for his recording session, and when he gets home. he even sends you photos of his dinner with him and his new band. you only heart the photo and reply dryly. you’ve never acted like this.

you just want to make it easier for him to break up with you. maybe if he realised how little you added to his amazing life then he’d finally agree to let you go.

saturday comes and goes, and finally sunday does too.

sweetheart

sorry, can’t come today, i have some things to organise before the school fest next week

luka stares down at the text with his other hand holding the picnic blanket. he stands outside his door in dismay. at this point, he’s had enough.

love

seriously? whatever.

there, you think, he’s finally done with you.

he's gotten annoyed with this change of pace. you weren't acting like yourself, and he hasn't had any good time to ask you about it properly. you just shrug it off and then leave.

he tries to think about what he did, if he did anything, and nothing comes to mind. maybe he forgot to pick something up for you? or maybe he made you miss an important meeting? he couldn't think of anything.

monday comes around and you’ve prepared yourself. you two haven’t spoken since sunday morning and you’ve found it a bit hard to do so.

luka is upset with you, and you feel unable to be enough for him. so you put your things away, attend homeroom and explain the plans for the festival that runs from wednesday to friday, and head off to help your peers.

“y/n,” a voice calls from the doorway. you glance up from painting something. luka stands there with crossed arms. “can i talk to you for a sec?”

you stand up and and follow him out to the school yard. everyone else is planning their things for the festival, so nobody would be out yet.

“okay, out with it,” he grumbles with furrowed brows, “what’s going on with us? you’ve been totally gone and i have no idea why. did something happen?”

you don’t say anything, despite what you want to say. and that makes luka a bit more upset.

“y/n, seriously. can you just talk to me? i really wanted to see you yesterday and…” he holds his breath as you continue to stare at the floor, “why are you being so distant? you act like you want nothing to do with me! and instead of talking to me, you just—”

“you’re the one who wants nothing to do with me,” you grumble out with a hot face. luka stops. “you and… you just want to be by yourself, you don’t want to be with me anymore, luka.”

“what are you talking about?” he questions, now even more confused.

“i heard you!” you say as you jab a finger into his chest, “you told your friends that you missed being single and—and you didn’t like having me around. so i… i just thought that if i stopped being around you so much, that you would break up with me. at least then it would make sense.”

you have tears pricking your eyes. luka is almost the same, simply by looking at you. he knows what you’re talking about.

“i know it’s impossible, but i sometimes wish you and i were the same,” you mumble out, “it’s hard for the both of us, i guess. i’m sorry.”

he lets out a small sigh to himself before a smile dawns on his lips. he pushes his hair back and tugs you closer, gently.

“c’mere,” he mutters out. you’re reluctant, but seeing him with a sorry smile makes you step forward and wrap your arms around his waist. he holds you around your shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “oh, you poor thing. that must’ve been holding you down all weekend.”

“luka…” you say against his shoulder as tears stain his blazer.

“i know, baby, i’m sorry,” he shushes you, “i didn’t know you were nearby when i said that, i confused you. i wasn’t talking about you, sweetheart. i was talking about how much i missed being a solo idol.”

you blink and slowly lift your head from him. with slightly puffy eyes and an embarrassed look on your face, you stare at him.

“solo idol?” you repeat.

he chuckles and reaches a hand up to brush away the tears from your cheek.

“yes, i was talking about music,” he states, “not you, my love. i’m sorry that i said it that way, i didn’t intend on making you feel that way. i would’ve never said something like that if i knew it would make you feel like this.”

you can’t even look at him anymore. you cover your face with your hands.

“ah, i’m so sorry, luka,” you mumble into your hands, “i made a big deal out of nothing.”

“it’s okay, i understand, sweet thing,” he replies to you, “you can make it up to me with that picnic date if you feel so inclined.”

you nod your head at him before luka begins pressing chaste kisses to your tear-stained cheeks.

“aw, look at you, my poor baby,” he says to you, “don’t ever think i’d say such a thing. you’re my favourite person in the world, okay? don’t want you thinking otherwise.”

you wipe away your tears and nod your head again with a smile. luka grins as well at your return of personality. he leans forward and finally presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

“now c’mon,” he says after he pulls away from you, “let’s skip the planning stuff and go get something to eat.”

“no, luka," you chuckle out as he tries to drag you away. he forgets that you take your job as class president seriously. "i need to talk to class c's representative about their event."

"ivan's such a bore," he groans, "hang out with me instead."

you have to pull him by his blazer back to his classroom as he sulks behind you. you were glad that things were back to normal, at least.

[acid-ixx]

I truly LOVE THIS SERIES!!! I also read the reader as female too. I really like how you delve into damiens mind on this one. He is the one I was curious about the direction you will take him in with dealing with reader. I especially can't wait for Jason's too. Will any of the batfam be romantic toward reader in future chapters?

directory !

a/n: tysm for liking it so far !! for me i prefer it if the reader is gn/male (since im also a trans guy and it's hard to find content of my preference. it's funny how a lot of ppl in my inbox call me a girl bec i am not 😭). also none of them are going to turn romantic later on. i prefer strictly writing them as platonic in the series since it's often stated that they see you purely as their sibling who differs entirely from them. although i might make another series where it is romantic yandere, but for the a&a series, they're all platonic.

yeah, damian so far is a really complicated case. both him and the reader share a trait for contradicting feelings and that really ties with them being the only ones having blood ties in the family. which drives damian's obsession even further because in my opinion he's the most perceptive (and one of the least delusional alongside jason) of your emotions, knowing the right words to tick you off or make your vulnerable.

damian is also pretty touch-starved for a sense of normalcy that he couldn't achieve with his siblings who are raised to be crimefighters (so the way he sees his relationship towards his siblings would be more of a vigilante partner than family), but once he's matured enough, he'll soon realize just how much he craves for affection. having someone like you, who's the one trying to just live, and sharing blood with him (because despite trying to distance himself away from his assassin past, he'll always have this toxic mindset of "blood is thicker than water" and you're proof of that), damian pretty much demands attentions left and right.

when i mean he demands your attention, that means he also needs affection, both physical and emotional. that means he wants you to coddle him the same way dick coddles you. he wants to bond with you through quality time so that means you'll always find your schedule packed with activities you'll spend with damian, to both make up for lost time and as a quiet apology towards you that, no, he's not gonna threaten you with a sword anymore— he even makes a show of keeping his weapons somewhere far away from you, that your baby brother is vulnerable towards you and he means no harm.

his methods of gaining your spotlight are really inconvenient, but don't point it out because all he'll do is pout towards you whilst he'd grab your hand, preferably to take you somewhere away from all your other siblings who are trying their damn best also trying to take your attention.

meanwhile jason is more protective and would rather not let you go through the same path as he did; being impulsive and letting yourself get in danger. unfortunately, the reader in the series is already pretty much in their worst state and that makes jason's need to protect you from harm's way (just like bruce), especially right after meeting him in the series would make him realize that you weren't a replacement to him and that you both pretty much share the same trauma when it comes to seeing your mother being taken away from you.

just like dick, he pretty much sees you as a kid. but unlike dick, the more you show your impulsive actions and display breakdowns, the more he acknowledges that yes, you do have flaws and you need space so he won't shove his affection down your throat but he will make sure his angel is properly taking care of themself right after, he'll make drink water right after a crying session, make you eat something if you haven't, and if you're scared of criminals trying to target you in the streets, then don't worry because the red hood will guarantee to associate you with fear.

fear that if they even dare to lay their eyes on you, their eyeballs would be ripped out of their sockets. only god knows what would happen if jason were to find one of them having filthy intentions towards his angel.

unfortunately for you, if you don't like it when an intimidating, brooding man who considers himself your brother is standing by your door, then you're out of luck because he won't even budge unless you invite him over. his obsession with you is very subtle but unlike bruce with a no-kill code, jason won't hesitate putting a buller through someone's head once his angel is in danger.

though if you don't want to see jason snap, then it'd be better if you wouldn't put yourself in danger on purpose because he will get violent towards anyone who even tries to lay their hands on you and although his grip on your body is soft, as if making sure that he wouldn't be harming you; you would further increase the chances of being locked up in your own safe haven if you try to purposely get yourself killed because that gives him all the signs that you're incapable of taking care of yourself and he wouldn't want a repeat of what happened to him with you when it comes to any other criminals.

[clockwayswrites]

I didn't write Danny meeting more Bats.

wc: 813, Masterpost

“No,” Jason growled.

Tim threw his hands up in the air. “You don’t even know why we’re here!”

“Whatever it is can’t be good.” Jason stalked forward until he was toe to toe with Tim. The red helmet was angled down in a way that made it look like it was glaring. Cass loved how expressive Jason could be with it. “I didn’t invite you into my territory. Go home.”

Arms crossed, Tim jutted his chin up defiantly. “We’re not vampires, we don’t need an invite.”

“Boys, boys! You’re both pretty!” Steph said as she tried push herself between them before a fight started.

Tim sputtered and rocked back slightly from Steph’s efforts to separate them. “Pretty?”

“What? You’re a hundred p pretty and Red Hood’s got them thighs,” Steph defended herself. “Shut up, I’m only human, I’m allowed to look!”

Cass laughed silently as Jason’s shoulders slumped in weary defeat. Steph’s shoulder was really digging into him now as she tried unsuccessfully to get either of the boys to move.

“What the fuck do you three want?”

“Danny,” Cass chirped.

“What?”

“Danny,” Cass repeated.

“Okay, yeah,” Jason scoffed, “so repeating what I said at the start of all this, no.”

Cass would have pouted if she wasn’t wearing her mask; pouting usually worked on Jason. She would have to try using her words instead. “You like Red more than me?”

“Him?” Jason asked, incredulously, as he motioned around Steph to Tim.

“Hey!” Tim snapped and finally took a step back. He could pout.

“What? Fuck,” Jason cussed. “No, I mean. It’s her, I don’t like any sibling more than her. Don’t look at me like that, she’s your favorite too!”

Tim sighed, though he was still pouting a little. “Of course she is. She’s everyone’s favorite. Except maybe the brat, I mean, but does he really count?”

“No,” Cass said serenely. Besides, she would win Damian over yet. He just didn’t understand it was alright to care that way for people and show it yet.

“See all good here. So I’m going to—”

“Red met Danny. If I am your favorite I should too.”

Jason just stared at her. His eyes may have been unreadable, but she could tell the moment she had won by how his body shifted. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” she said confidently.

“So much hate,” Jason grumbled before turning his back to them and leaping over to the next building.

The rest of them followed loyally along as Jason lead them through Crime Alley and to a dinner.”

“Jenny,” he rasped as they entered.

“Hood,” she said back and nodded with her head. “You boy is in the back. You might want to see if you can get him to lay off on the coffee.”

Jason gave a sigh at that, Jenny didn’t react at all to the way the helmet made the noise threatening or the rest of them following after Red Hood to the back booth where a mop of black hair was bowed down over the table covered in books, paper, and a battered laptop that glowed faintly grew under the keys.

“Danny,” Jason said, motioning to the guy in the booth.

He didn’t look much like Tim had described him, dressed in a light, long sleeve shirt over a tank top.

“Hum?”

“Guests,” Jason said and settled into the booth. He ran his hand through Danny’s hair and the other just leaned into the motion with a pleased nice.

“Guests?” Danny asked, finally looking up. “Oh, Bats! Hi.”

Cass waved back.

“Red you’ve met. Spoiler, don’t trust her, and Black Bat,” Jason said. “They wanted to meet you.”

Danny gave them a smile from over the lip of his coffee cup. “Little ‘ol me?”

Jason snorted and reached to take the coffee away. “Don’t act innocent.”

“My coffee…”

“Jenny tattled on you. I’ll get you a milk shake instead. When did you eat?”

‘See?’ Tim mouthed at Steph and Cass.

“I ate! I ate lunch when I got here.”

“Danny, it’s dark out,” Jason said, sounded so worn down.

“I’ve been studying?” Danny said, innocently, and made another grab for his coffee.

Jason just scoffed and handed Tim the coffee as he got back out of the booth. “Drink this before he can and sit down. I’m getting menus.”

“Sweet, I’m going to get waffles!” Steph said as she slid into the booth. Cass nudged Tim to slide in after her.

Danny eyed the coffee cup. “If I promise to drink it before he can see will you give me that back?”

“Oh my god, there are two of you,” Steph grumbled. She grabbed the cup out of Tim’s hand and chugged it. “There, solved.”

“Hood is right, I shouldn’t trust you,” Danny said with a pout.

It was a very good pout. Cass bet it got Danny his way a lot.

---

AN: This could/should have been longer but I wanted to get you all something this week and it is A) hell week and B) I am not doing Great™️(almost fell down last time I got up, which wasn't great as I was above the basement stairs but hey, we're ooooookay). Anyways, enjoy some Cass POV and more Bats meeting Danny!

I no longer tag, you can subscribe to the masterpost!