#he might have on the release build for one of the endings

[morro-guardian-of-the-departed]

Okay so, let's start off after the Day of the Departed, where Cole turned back into a human. OH FIRST SPINJITSU MASTER, THIS IS GOING TO BE LONG.

Like the day after, Acronix returned from the time vortex and joined with his brother. (I assume you know who they are, as they were friends with Wu during the time you were with him.) They made these warriors out of snakes and kidnapped a bunch of different workers to build them a giant time travel machine tank thing. Acronix also made Wu rapidly age with the fast-forwarding time blade, which Nya and Kai fixed using the reversal time blade. They got stopped, but Wu and the Time Twins got lost through time. And the ninja spent the next couple of years trying to find him.

Then there was this girl, Harumi, who was the Jade Princess of a dynasty, until she got her gang of bikers, called The Sons of Garmadon, to blow up the palace, with her adoptive parents inside. (To be fair, they were a bit abusive.) She did this because inside of the palace, there was this oni mask out of a set of 3, to which these 3 masks would allow her resurrect Garmadon from the grave. The evil, bad lord one, not the Sensei "Art of the Silent Fist" Garmadon. Why did she want to do this? Because she hates Lloyd for not saving everyone (including her bio parents) back when the Great Devourer and Garmadon was the one that killed the GD.

The ninja also found Wu during this time, who was reverted back into a little baby due to the reversal blade.

Harumi ends up being successful with her plan, so she gets Garmadon to beat up his son and to take over Ninjago with her, including this giant colossus. Kai, Cole, Jay, Zane, and lil' Wu get sent to the First Realm during the whole takeover. Some other stuff happens and they get back together, Wu grows up again, and they win. Hooray! And, oh yeah, Harumi dies just like her parents did (building).

Then Ninjago City gets invaded by Oni and their dark cloud of doom that turned people into stone. The ninja, Wu, and Garmadon are able to remedy this by using the tornado of creation.

I'll add more information in another ask later. Any questions about these events?

Ah, The Day of the Departed. That was the last time I saw Master Wu—and also when my third death occurred, but that’s not important.

Time vortex? Since when was there a time vortex? And why was Acronix in it?

Kidnapping? That doesn’t sound like something Krux and Acronix would do. Wu would never enable something like that, and they were close friends of his, last I heard.

Time blades? How does that work? Did the Time Twins transfer a portion of their abilities into the blades, like how the First Spinjitzu Master fused parts of his four core elements with the Golden Weapons?

Wu should be fine from rapid aging, though. He’s semi-immortal, so simply aging shouldn’t do him in. It’d have to be something violent, or maybe an illness.

WU GOT LOST IN THE TIME STREAM??

Ugh. The Jade Family. In my experience, more often than not, Ninjago’s royals don’t give a fuck about their people. Just the aristocratic class.

This Princess Harumi named her gang after Lloyd? Holy wannabe Garmadon. Or she might just have a crush on him. I’d need more info to properly draw a conclusion.

Oh, I’m all for overthrowing abusive parents. I have experience with terrible parents, though my adoptive parent was a good one. My biological ones weren’t.

…the First Master hid one of the the Oni Warlords’ masks with the ROYAL FAMILY?? You’ve got to be kidding.

And he hid all three SO HORRIBLY that some WANNABE GARMADON Princess of Ninjago FOUND THEM??

Wait. GARMADON created the Art of the Silent Fist?? I remember that I absolutely hated when Wu would try teaching me that style. It’s so passive…that being said, I do use it against the soul-suckers a lot.

I would understand if she hated Lloyd for releasing the Serpentine, because they released the Great Devourer. But hating him for not saving her bio parents in a city full of people? When he was a literal ten-year-old?? Holy Weapons, that’s psychotic.

I MISSED BABY WU?!? PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE JOKING.

Garmadon? Hurt Lloyd?? No way. He adores Lloyd more than anything in this world. If what you’re saying is true, the resurrection must’ve fucked him up bad.

Wait. For the resurrection to work, DNA from the wife, brother, and son is needed. I get how she would’ve gotten it from Wu. Considering she managed to track down the Oni Masks, finding a baby Dragon-Oni hybrid wouldn’t be too hard. Misako is tough, and she can fight, but she’s still a human at the end of the day. But Lloyd? The Legendary Dragoni-Human tribrid Green Ninja?? Who has elemental powers that he’s able to access??? 

How the heck did the Princess manage that? Unless she stole a piece of his hair or something while he wasn’t paying attention.

No way Garmadon called upon a Colossus to take over Ninjago. This family really loves dramatic flair, doesn’t it?

THEY WENT TO THE REALM OF ONI AND DRAGONS?? WHAT COULD HAVE POSSIBLY LED TO THAT???

As for Wu, if he was hit with opposing Time Blades, then they should’ve cancelled the effects out, but since the Time Blade that caused aging hit Wu first, and the Reversal Blade hit him later, I can see how the effects would be delayed. That being said, it explains how he’d be able to rapidly age back to adulthood. If it’s not as simple as that, and it’s actually more complex than that, I will cry.

Still salty I missed Baby Wu.

They probably made it back to Ninjago via dragonback, since dragons can travel the realms.

Harumi dies? Oh. Well, consequences of your actions coming back to bite you, etc. etc. I’m very familiar with that. Wait she was crushed by a BUILDING—

Hold on what happens to Garmadon? Isn’t that a big problem too? And what about the Colossus?

THE ONI INVADED?? AND THERE WERE NO PRECAUTIONS FOR THE ELEMENTAL DARKNESS???

Oh, so we’re just fine with Garmadon now? Even though he, like, conquered Ninjago and abused his son?

…yes. I have many, many questions.

[blacktabbygames]

(slight, vague spoilers ig?) about the HEA route, were we always intended to dislike smitten and his actions here were clarifying that intent, or was it more like character development? I've been seeing more people say that his actions here have made them dislike him during other routes too, so I wasn't sure if he was always supposed to be difficult to like or not

The voices are, among other things, manifestations of the player's emotions. Even the best things in life can be destructive in excess, and in terms of voices, this is far from being a unique characteristic of the Smitten. See also: Cage!Skeptic; Tower!Broken; Witch!Opportunist, etc. etc.

Smitten in HEA is an interesting stand-out case because the route hits particularly close to home for a lot of players. And when something in a fantastical setting hits close to home, there's a tendency to apply real world standards to the characters involved in that event. So players are more likely to take Smitten to task, than they are, say, Hunted, who traps you in a cycle where you and The Den violently eat each other forever, or Broken, who insists on torturing Apotheosis.

If anything, prior to release, I thought Smitten-heads would mostly be upset at his lack of screen time. He has almost *no* dialogue in The Pristine Cut, even in "his own" route, where the role he serves is more that of an echo than that of an active participant. I liked abby's answer in our AMA.

All of this is to say, there's no overarching intention for you to "like" one voice or "dislike" another. Each iteration of them is "different," much like each iteration of the Player is "different" at the start of each version of Chapter 1. And all of them have the capacity to change, for better or for worse.

[bunni-v1]

Competition

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

Tw: Marking; Threesome; NSFW

Info: Mydei x Reader x Phainon; NSFW; Fic

Word Count: 3.8k words

MDNI

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You should start,” Mydei comments dryly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sugarwarachan]

(･ω･)つ andy’s notes: honestly just being disgusting about nanami on main cws: smut, fantasies about oral - m!receiving, face fucking, dirty talk, degradation, gn!reader

nanami kento has the nastiest desire to stuff your mouth full.

it starts early, shamefully, and all because he initially can’t stand how much you talk. you fill each mission with chatter that never has anything to do with curses, and it’s enough to drive a man to the brink.

he hates that he comes to expect it, that you coax words out of him he normally wouldn’t offer, that he’s getting closer to you despite himself.

he especially hates that the talking draws attention to your mouth. he nearly loses himself every time you wet your lips with your tongue, the sight of the pink muscle swiping at the fullness of your bottom lip never failing to make his vision white out.

it's depraved, he thinks. you're his colleague, possibly even his friend. he shouldn't have these filthy thoughts about your lips stretched around his cock, drool sliding down your chin.

he can't help it though, that every mission ends with his hand wrapped around the pulsing length of his shaft, his shirt trapped between his teeth. you're always so eager in his fantasies, so hungry and wild. he'd have to order you to slow down, to be good, just this once, just for him—

"you can do that, baby, can't you? or do i need to shut your pretty mouth for you and put it to better use?"

in his head, you love when he's mean, that you drive him to talk to this. the strokes along his dick are rough and fast, a punishing rhythm that amplifies the slick sounds of his dick sliding in and out of the ring of his fist.

god, he wishes you were here, pretty eyes fixed on his as he snaps his hips into the welcoming cavern of your throat.

"dirty fucking slut," he pants. his hips buck off the bed as the fire in his lower stomach builds. "that's it, pretty, let me use you, let me spill my seed right down your fuckin' throat—"

his balls draw up tight, and with one hard pass over his cockhead, he cums in heaving spurts, ropes of semen splattering across the ridges of his stomach.

he wishes you were here for more than just sexual release, too. after he's cleaned himself up, he imagines how you might press the length of your body along his, how you'd probably talk his ear off until you both fell asleep.

ah, well. a man can dream.

2025 © all works belong to @sugarwarachan. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works. masterlist here.

[penelopepine]

Little Kicks

141 reacts to feeling the baby kick for the first time. 

Price: 

It's late at night and Price is helping you with your nightly routine. He helped with rubbing some soothing cream onto stomach; it was something he honestly looked forward to every night now. To feel your pregnant stomach under his palm is something he would never deny himself; not even for a second.

The bedroom is quiet; your eyes are closed and clearly enjoying his touch. At least that was until you suddenly wince in pain. Immediately Price is on alert, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Just-," you gasp and wince again, "Just the baby kicking me. "

Price releases a relieved breath hearing those words. He knows the little one has been more active as of late, and that the one light taps are slowly but surely getting harder.

"Here give me your hand! With how hard she's kicking inside there you might be able to feel it now."  

With your words Price reaches out and puts his hand on your stomach once more. He spreads his palm out wide hoping to feel even the lightest tap. And eventually after a few seconds he does! He can feel his baby girl kick his hand. 

Looking at you he sees that you have the softest smile on your face as you watch him. You know that this has been something he had been waiting for ever since you first mentioned it. He couldn’t help, but think how this was all he had ever wanted. Price wouldn’t change this moment for anything in the world. 

He moves himself up on the bed towards you, and pulls you into his arms. Doing so he makes sure to have one hand pressed on stomach as he whispers praises in your ear. 

Gaz: 

Gaz is in the living room building some furniture for the baby’s room when a gasp followed by a loud thud of something hitting the ground. He is immediately calling your name, and rushing to find you. 

Once in the kitchen he sees you standing in the middle of the room. You're obviously in pain, but you have a wide smile on your face. A tupperware container sits on the ground; the lip Is still on and luckily nothing spilled out onto the floor.

"What! What is it? Is everything alright?" Gaz quickly asks, coming to stand right in front of you. 

 "Give me your hand!" You excitedly exclaim while reaching for his hand and placing it on your stomach. 

 Confusion and worry quickly leaves him as he feels a sudden pressure press up against his palm. "Is that-?"

"It is!"

Gaz drops to his knees; his hand never leaves its spot. He loves you so much, and this pregnancy has only strengthened that bond he has with you. 

Everything in this moment is perfect, and he can't believe his life has turned out like this. How he ended up with you he'll never know, but he'll forever be glad he did. Gaz gives your stomach a kiss before rising to his feet, and leading you to the couch. All he wants to do right now is hold his family in his arms. 

Soap: 

Soap had his head right on top of your stomach as he talked to you and baby about how he couldn't wait for them to be born, and everything he had planned after that. When Soap had found out you were pregnant he was ecstatic, and would talk to the baby any chance he could. 

While doing so this time though a hard pressure hits him on his check. You gasp at the same time Soap jerks his head up to meet your eyes.

"Did she-?

"Was that-?"

You both say at the same time before focusing back on your stomach. Soap is immediately placing his head back on your stomach; waiting for the baby to kick him again. 

"Do it again, little lass, do it again!" He whispers repeatedly to the baby.

It only takes him a few short moments for it to happen again, and when it does Soap lets out an excited laugh. 

"I think she likes your voice." You affectionately mention to him while running your fingers through his hair. 

"Aye, just like her mama!" Soap reaches up and grabs your hand that's in his hair and brings it closer to him to give it a kiss before returning it where it once was. This right here was his favorite way to relax when home. 

Ghost: 

In the middle of the night Ghost feels you wiggling in his arms. Your pregnancy had been affecting your sleep so this was pretty normal, but before he can pull you closer to him he hears your pained wheeze. Instantly he’s wide awake and calling out to you. 

“Love, what’s wrong?” 

“The baby,” you gasp, “the baby is apparently wanting to be a football player, and decided that now is the perfect time to practice.” 

The relief he feels from those words are instantaneous. He hates that you’re in pain, but he would rather this than the worst possible scenario. “I’m sorry, love. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Can you talk to her? She always calms down when you do.” You sleepily ask him. 

And he does; if simply talking is what it takes to help both of his girls then he will do so. Leaning down towards your stomach he places one hand on it, and starts to speak. What surprises him though is that when he does he feels a light punch against his palm. 

That was the baby he realized. He felt her. A wave of love overflows inside of him, and for a second he thinks surely this can’t be real. There is no way his life has turned into something this perfect. 

[aliteralsemicolon]

Bad, bad news 2 (worse news) - 18+

Masterlist | Part 1

GIF by Reidgif

Requested - "I daydream abt that one fic of yours (bad bad news) from how bad you edged me is it possible that we might get part 2"

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Minors do not interact at all. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. 

WARNING: Smut, soft dom!/dom! Spencer, slight manhandling, PinV, no mentions of protection, brat tamer if you squint, no rhyme or reason, just mostly filth, ass-obsessed Reid, light/minor spanking, man moaning!!!, slight nipple play, back shot esc.

Word count: 2K See notes at end for author's note & spoilers.

You can only muster a feeble squeak before Spencer tugs you off him and gently tosses you aside. You land on your stomach, nearly face-planting into the bed. When he drags you closer by your legs, you half expect him to turn you around.

And he would, if he wasn't so entranced by the view.

You've pushed yourself up on your arms creating a mouth-watering arch between your lower back and your ass. The way it's raised allows him to catch a glimpse of your glistening cunt. So, so wet and so inviting. He doesn't even realise when his head bobs to plant a hot, sticky kiss to the back of your thigh, sight set between your legs.

It makes you shudder.

"Spence..." His name escapes you in a small gasp as he travels up, leaving a trail of kisses on his way.

You barely get time to react before his mouth meets your cunt, hungry and desperate. The sound of your moan surprises you and your face inevitably falls against the mattress, fingers curling the sheets into a tight fist. He's obviously had a target in mind since the moment he laid eyes on it.

Spencer Reid also has an incredibly good aim.

His arms hook around your legs from under your hips, hands digging into your skin. His lips wrap around your clit and immediately tug. You feel his teeth barely scrape against it before it audibly pops out of his mouth. You whine, instinctively jolting away before pushing yourself closer to him. He doesn't object, licking a slow stripe from your bud to your entrance.

"Please. Please..." You don't know what you're begging for, you just know that you want more.

Not only does he take pride in the fact, but he delivers. His tongue prods your hole, lapping up the fruit of his labour. He's barely begun and you're already lost in his touch. You can feel yourself going limp, succumbing to the pleasure. It takes no time for your orgasm to brew, he knows you're close. Your eager mewls give you away. The thought of tasting your release sends a rush of excitement straight between his legs.

You grind against his tongue and he can't help himself from picturing how good you'd look taking him from behind, just like this. It gives him a new, utterly sinful idea. He lets you ride his face for a little bit longer. You're almost there, but just as quickly as Spencer brings you your orgasm, he snatches it away. And you damn near yell when he does, twisting your head with a displeased frown.

"Baby! Baby, I'm so close. Please–"

He cuts you off with a firm spank, kneeling directly behind you. It doesn't hurt in the slightest, but the sting shocks you enough for you to drop limp, again. He watches you roll your hips, arch deepening as you hum. It's a weak attempt to build some friction. Lust takes him over. If he could pick one, single moment from his entire life to be etched into his brain, it would be this one. More vividly than it already has.

"I told you," he grabs himself from the base, stroking up to his tip and wiping away his pre-cum, "only good girls get to cum."

You whimper when he drags his hardened cock through your folds. That whimper turns into a string of more pathetic whines when he repeats a motion a few more times. He fixates on your clit, rubbing the tip against your extremely fragile bud.

"You have to prove that you're my good girl."

You could honestly cum from this, but he won't let you. Prick. You push your weight onto your arms, turning your head again. Your hair is a mess, eyes wide, brows pleading–you look almost ruined.

"Do you..." You begin to speak, inhaling slowly, tone uncertain. As if you don't know if what you have to offer is sufficient. "Do you want me to suck you off?"

He wants to ruin you. Completely.

"Oh, baby. That's very tempting." He lets go of himself, both hands caressing your skin from thigh to cheek. "But you look so good like this."

You unintentionally whine your hips as he spreads you like he's inspecting the mess he's caused. His tongue swipes his lips in satisfaction.

"Then how?" Your bashfulness has more blood rushing down to his already painfully hard cock.

"Hmmm." He bites his lip, pretending to contemplate, like he hasn't known exactly what he's wanted since he put you in this position. Spencer grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck, just gently guiding your back to his chest. You follow his direction blindly and tilt your head at his command. He nips at the skin below your ear and then you hear his voice–a beautiful combination of gravelly and sweet–whisper to you. "Do you have any idea how pretty you are? Grinding your pretty cunt on me? I could watch you forever."

You pull away from his loose grip to meet his eyes. There's a noticeable lack of brown in his irises, pupils almost completely dark. You don't know whether to be concerned or flattered. He doesn't give you time to think too much about it, steadily lowering you down into your previous position.

"Spence, I'm not sure if I know what you mean." You mumble, hesitantly.

That's when you feel him line himself up with your entrance.

"Give me a show, won't you?"

Six words that stir in your stomach. Goosebumps rise everywhere.

"What?"

"You heard me."

You hesitate. You've never been in this position before, literally. On your knees, bent over with him kneeling behind you. You look back at him, his eyes locking with yours and he's mesmerised. Certain. He tilts his head. Like he expects you to act up. And he's ready to put you right back in your place. Then you remember how you got here. How badly you wanted to make him lose his mind. The stupid bet.

"Will you let me cum after?"

Spencer smirks like he's holding back a chuckle and gives you a light nod. You pout. It's playful. The pout you utilise when you want something.

"Promise?"

He huffs, playfully rolling his eyes.

"Yes. I will make you cum."

You give him the sweetest smile you know to muster and then lean forward, resting your head on the bed and sticking your ass up as far out as you can. His attention returns to where he's patiently waiting for your bodies to connect. You roll your hips again, slowly sinking down on him.

Fuck.

You can't escape the fluttery feeling from every inch of him you take. He throws his head back, hands rushing to grip your skin. Both of you moan loudly, almost primally. By the time he bottoms out, you swear his cock is pulsating from how hard he is.

"God, you feel amazing."

It takes you a few seconds to adjust, breathing deeply to ground yourself. He eases his hold on your flesh and that's when you raise your hips again, maintaining a slow, steady pace. You have to use the back of your hand to muffle your sounds, trying to stay focused on fulfilling his request. He wants a show. You'll give him a show.

You wiggle your hips when you reach the tip, swiftly sink back down and then up. Spencer hisses, hands squeezing you tightly from behind. He can't take his eyes off you, entirely under your spell. He relishes the sight of his cock disappearing in you and the warmth of your walls. You're hot, sweaty, sticky and it's driving him crazy. Only when a strained moan escapes you does he realise that you're holding back.

He doesn't appreciate it.

"Stop that. Let me hear you." He pleads almost out of air. It's polite.

You don't adhere to his request, opting to increase the speed and fluidity of your movements instead. He groans as you clench around him, annoyed at how he's unable to fully enjoy himself because of your restraint.

"Cut it out." He spanks you again only achieving a small squeak before you shake your head defiantly. His breathing is heavy and you can sense his glare. "Can't behave for more than a few minutes."

The snark on your tongue is replaced by a loud moan as his hips impulsively snap into you until his length is impossibly deep inside. You shriek, not expecting him to pull your knees straight out from under you, pinning you flat on your stomach. In that same motion, he lifts your ass just enough for him to comfortably thrust in and out.

You barely get a chance to blink and he's pounding into you. The sheets can't ground you. Every mewl and moan you withheld from him leaves you tenfold.

"That's it, scream for me. Just like that. Oh, baby, yes like that." His grunts lace with your voice, and the sound of skin slapping fills the room. You try to rebel once more, burying your head further against the bed. "No, oh, no."

Spencer pauses for a brief second, roughly grabbing you by your arms and pulling you upright. He pins them in place behind your back, his hold just above your elbows like they're handlebars.

"Hey–ah–Spencer!"

"That–my name–is the only coherent sound I want from you." He slips inside you again, barely giving you time to adjust and then ramping up to a brutal pace. You're on fire, it's like he's reaching every part of you. You can't tell whose moans are louder. He's drilling you at an impossible speed, stretching you open. He yanks you flush against his chest, hands rushing to cup your breasts. Your back stays arched, paralysed from intense pleasure.

"Oh–fuc–uh–Ah! Ah!" Your head falls back and you're basically just yelling.

You're back at the edge of your orgasm before you realise it. It's when you feel him tug your nipples that you know you're done for. He rolls the nubs between his fingers and you're panting like you've gone mad.

"Sp–Spencer, baby–"

"Yeah?" He's panting with you, his breath fanning across your neck.

"Gonna cum–fuck–I'm–so...fuck–"

"C'mon, use your words."

You'd bite back if your brain wasn't so scattered.

"Say it or you don't get to finish."

"Cum! I'm gonna cum! Now! Now! Please!"

Not that either of you has a choice. He's edged you for far too long, your release is inevitable at this point. He gathers as much when you limp in his arms, head lolling from side to side on his shoulder. As if you're trying to run from how overwhelming it is.

"Cum. Cum all over my cock."

That's all you need before the dam breaks. Your legs spasm as the pressure leaves your core, orgasm wracking through your limbs. By the time you come to, you're on your stomach again, Spencer's just watching you, soothingly rubbing your calves on either side of him. You muster any leftover energy to peek back at him. His whole body is flushed.

"How are you feeling? Feeling okay?" He mumbles, out of breath.

"Mhm." You nod, voice hoarse.

You attempt to shift and turn around but he stops you.

"No, don't turn around. You'll get it all over the sheets." You furrow your brows, confused. That's when the warmth on your back registers. "Stay there. I'll get a–"

"You didn't finish inside?" You look betrayed, almost hurt. He knows how much you love it when he cums inside you. You'd think he feels bad and he almost does, but the smirk on his face tells you otherwise.

"Good girls get what they want. Brats take what they're given."

Spoilers: None, you get what you see.

AN - Ermmmm...surprise? This was an entirely spur-of-the-moment decision. I started answering this ask and then started writing within the same answer and just never looked back. Still formatted it nicely for my peace of mind. Please note that this is not who I am (it might be) and this is not a reflection of my writing (it might be). I haven't written smut in sooo long please don't judge me rn.

Also, the title and gif selection were sending me. I really thought it was the funniest thing ever (it was not).

Thank you for reading!

[invincibledc]

ᝰ.ᐟ𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍?

────୨ৎ────

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 (𝐎𝐂) 𝐗 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐒!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

── .✦ Summary: obsessed clown boy versus girl boss who walks him like a dog? Wait, is that the female Robin?

── .✦ Genre: crack fic(?) idk but I wrote this

── .✦ Info: this OC is an OC I’m written for my own amusement. He’s the son of Harley Quinn and joker. Full name, Jacklyn Oswald Quinn. Jack and reader are in their mid teens, 15-17. Jack is considered canonically handsome. Reader is the twin sister of Damian Wayne.

── .✦ Word count: 1,039

Being a duo, especially another Robin with your twin brother. You were patrolling Gotham in the east, sighing as you looked over the busy streets. It’s boring, but this is what you do now for a living since your mother dropped you and Damian here to meet your father.

Leaning back with a sigh, your vision was soon taken over by gloved hands. “Guess who~,” a deep raspy voice said into your ear.

Shivers ran down your spine, you pulled the hands from you, twisting the arms of the person and forcing them onto their back.

Eyes narrowed, you see the boy joker. Son of Joker and Harley Quinn. “Jack.” “Birdy~” he purrs as he pulls his arms forward. You couldn’t help but yelp, leaning forward. You were soon on the ground as well of the roof of this building.

“Isn’t it nice to just, relax with me puddin'?” Jack says gently, wrapping his arms around your waist. You stared at the boy who gave you soft puppy eyes. You.. hated him. Is what you repeat in your head despite your fingers combing through his dyed hair.

Jack knew you couldn’t resist him, and he couldn’t be with you. “Is the big bat patrolling, or did you come out to see me, sweetheart.” You hum, facing the night sky that has cloudy skies.

“The whole gang is patrolling. And if they see me cuddling up with the son of the most crazed man ever. This might not end well.” You pull your hands from his hair, Jack has already relaxed against you. He frowned at the absence of your fingers through his hair.

“Well, fuck 'em. Keep spoiling me with all your attention birdy.” Couldn’t help but laugh, you rolled your eyes as you moved from Jack. Sitting up til you fully stand.

“I love to entertain you clown boy, but I got things to do.” You said lastly before jumping off the roof. Jack grins, looking over the roof to not see you anymore.

“Damn, she’s good.”

✦

It was another night, you were defeating some goons. A tall goon came behind you, grabbing you in their big arms. Grumbling, you gritted your teeth. “Got you, you little bitch!” The male exclaims as if his favorite football team won.

But as you go to release your arms, a king card hits the goon’s left arm. The card was sharp, apparently so sharp as the male’s arm started to bleed.

“Agh!” The goon lets you go, just to try and take the card out. But you didn’t give him as much chance as you did a spinning roundhouse kick to his face. The man was then knocked out, you picked up the card that had impaled the male’s arm.

“I think that belongs to me, babe.” Feeling arms wrapped around your waist. His heavy hands gripped your hips. You jolted, turning to face Jack who had a soft grin. “You could’ve at least told me you were fighting bad guys. Then I would’ve protected what’s mine.”

Your face felt heated up as he gave your hips another squeeze. “Get off me you clown!” flaying your arms around, Jack had gotten elbowed by you. But he didn't care, he loved it.

You could have easily stabbed him, pinned him down, hurt him, or maybe even arrested him.

But you haven't.

And he loves it.

“Calm down puddin`, let me take care of you.” effortlessly, he lifts over your shoulder. Eyes widen, shocked, you look at Jack’s back, and at the knocked-out man.

“Wait! I need to tie that guy up, so Officer Gordon can get him.” pointing to the slight bleeding man. Jack sighed annoyed, his eyes relaxed and narrowed. There's one thing he hated about you, which is your empathy. He loves it, but damn was it annoying.

“Why should we, he’s just gonna try and mug someone again.” soon Jack felt a smack at his head.

“Do it now.” your voice lowered with authority. “Yes ma’am,” Jack said lastly, complying to you. He never denies his girl, if there’s one thing his mom taught him, was to always give your hardest to get what you want. And it's you.

✦

Jason and Damian hate the boy joker, mostly Jason. Jason wants to strangle Jack. Jack could try and hide, taking off his painted face and looking normally like an average boy. His blonde hair and blue eyes stared into yours as you looked completely over him.

The ‘normal’ looking boy had equipped a rose, smiling as Jason was behind you. Glaring at Jack like a protective and angry older brother.

“Get lost kid,” Jason says pointing out more. “And If I see you close to the manor, I'm shooting you.” “Jason?!” you blurted shocked at how Jason said that. Jack rolled his eyes, “whatever old man.” Jason raised a brow. “Old man?” Jack gave you the rose simply, walking off as he waved at you.

Jason slammed the door, taking the rose from you. “Of course, you get a villain’s son to fall in love with you. I can't believe this.” you chased after Jason as he ripped the flower up. “You are Bruce’s kid.” the tanned male with scars all over his body said lastly.

Scoffing, you kicked the back of his knees, having him fall onto his face. “Shut the hell up, don't try and say that shit to my face when you’re single and miserable.” you walked past his fallen body before he got up and grabbed your ankle. Leading you to scream. “AHH!! Let go!!” you screamed for the whole manor to hear.

Damian came rushing down with a katana, “Sister! I'm here, what's the problem?” “Jason’s the problem!” you exclaimed, trying to pull your leg from Jason’s tight grip. “This little shit is dating the Joker’s son!” he shouted.

“No I'm not!” you shouted at Jason with a shocked expression, your heart racing, you turned towards your twin brother who dropped his katana in shock. His jaw was wide open before he grabbed his sword and walked past you and Jason.

“Where are you doing?” you questioned Damian who went to the front door.

“I'm out to get the head of a clown.”

“DAMIAN NO!”

[alchemistc]

They still have a rifle trained on Evan.

He's a reckless idiot, chasing after a bunch of assholes with guns, ditching the rest of his crew with their fucking ladder because he'd heard a detail Tommy had been desperately hoping Mehta wouldn't release over comms, and now Tommy is going to be responsible for the death of more than just himself and these dickheads who think they're getting away with this.

He'll try to live, but he's calculated the odds - sorry, Mr. Solo, force of habit.

The one who'd knocked out his co-pilot and dragged her out three hours ago huffs a breath like the inconvenience of distraction annoys him.

Evan's hand is still poised on his radio at the edge of the rooftop - setting sun shading him in a brilliant orange glow, curls on display because he'd clearly ditched any equipment that would bog down the climb. A finger twitches. Static fills Tommy's comms.

His new co-pilot never put his headset on. It's just Tommy and Evan and the entire LAPD/LAFD on comms, and four equally reckless, armed men with their weapons at the ready.

Tommy doesn't even know their endgame. They'd been waiting on the hospital roof, and he's landed them three times and never seen them return with anything when the three not shoving a barrel in his gut disappear into a building.

"Go for Kinard," he says, ignoring the dig into his ribs; at the very least he'd warned them early on that he needed to appear ready and available to communicate if they wanted whatever it was they'd hijacked his bird for. It was a blatant lie, but the moment they'd first pointed a weapon at him he'd known it'd be his only chance at a possible goodbye.

He just hadn't realized it'd be this.

Not face to face, with the added terror of knowing he might lose Evan and never even know for sure.

Not like this, he thinks, and then reminds himself that he was the dumbass who fell for Evan Buckley knowing full well the kind of stunts he'd pull for someone he cared about.

But, hey. At least this is confirmation that his petty lash-out had just been a response to feeling hurt. Confirmation that he did care, in some way.

"Tommy, can you hear me?" Evan asks over comms, voice clear as a fucking bell - Mehta's been a tyrant about keeping this line clear. Could just be Mehta and a negotiator listening in. Could be the entirety of the fire and police departments of the city.

We're all gonna die anyway, Tommy thinks.

"Loud and clear, Firefighter Buckley."

His neighbor stares him down, barrel still at his rib cage. If he was a betting man, he'd say they'd never actually been taught not to hold a gun close enough to a hostage that they might be reckless enough to try to take it.

"I have a plan," Evan says, and with the distance between them and the sun at Evan's back he loses some details, but he knows that determined set to his shoulders.

"Negative, Firefighter Buckley."

Two of the men have lowered their weapons. Confused, maybe. Unsure what the hell this random guy thought he was doing clambering up a ladder and onto a rooftop occupied by a search and rescue chopper, a harried pilot looking death in the mouth, and four armed men.

The quiet one doesn't lower his weapon.

"Tommy -" Evan starts, and Tommy tries to split his focus. Four hostiles, upwards of ten quick-shot weapons, too many bullets to count. A strangely shaped chest settled in the roof between Two and Four: is that their end goal? Is this his last flight?

Fuck it.

"Evan," he cuts in, and even from this distance Tommy can see him go stock still. "Evan, whatever happens, I just want you to know -."

His co-pilot rips the headset off his ears.

Through the blind panic, Tommy catches sight of Evan ducking for cover behind an HVAC unit.

Shots - he loses count after seven, takes the butt of a gun to his cheekbone, listens to Three yelling about not knocking out their ticket out.

The odds are shit for Tommy either way, and One is distracted now, arguing with Three, weapon no longer aimed at the bulk of Tommy's organs. His belt is a quick release. His door is still open.

Dumb of them to let him do that every time they landed.

This building isn't half as tall as the surrounding ones. It's possible they've managed to get snipers up on some of the other rooftops. For once in his life he doesn't mind how glaringly bright his flight suit is, when he takes a final stock of his captors positions in their all black ensembles. Maybe. Maybe.

He wants to finish that sentence. Christ, he wants to give Evan a full novel of painful stark truths. Jesus. He's gonna die, either way, one day. Might as well try to make it fucking count for something.

The belt makes a shit ton of noise being unbuckled, but over the rushing vortex of the blades, the hum of the engine, the quickly devolving argument happening between the four men in black, he doesn't think anyone hears it.

Tommy rolls right out of his seat and makes a break for another HVAC unit.

He's out of sight before they realize he's missing, and from this angle, back to the humming fans, he can see Evan two units over.

Tommy finds a rock. Peeks just long enough to confirm the absolute shit show of the four men who've just now realized they're down a pilot. Tosses it just far enough to catch the protruding length of Evan Buckley's leg.

He's always appreciated those legs, but if they get out of this alive and this means what he thinks it means he'll spend some extra time reminding them how grateful he is of them.

Two of the men are beelining it for the door to the roof - the opposite direction from Tommy, but if they get there Evan will be in a direct line of sight.

When Tommy's rock hits, Evan glances up. Catches his eye. Starts crawling the fucking moment Tommy crooks two fingers and hell if that doesn't do something to both his heart and his dick. Jesus. He's so fucked.

If this doesn't mean what he thinks it means, Tommy's gonna wish he'd stayed in his seat long enough to kill the engines over the Pacific.

"This was not the plan," Evan hisses the moment he's perched behind Tommy's air conditioning unit.

"New plan, don't die," Tommy says, and Evan glares at him, full piss-and-vinegar scowl like he doesn't think Tommy's very funny. Howie would have laughed himself into discovery. Tommy risks another glance over the fans.

One, his forcefully appointed co-pilot, is trying to figure out the birds controls. Three is hefting the chest up into the back. Looks like Two and Four are about to be abandoned. If they could fly their own damn chopper what the hell was Tommy for?

"I'm in love with you," Tommy says. "And you scare the shit out of me."

Evan's eyes settle on him, pinks and purples reflecting off the lens, yellows and oranges burnishing his curls.

"This is how you choose to tell me?"

Tommy's grin is wry. "No time like the present, sweetheart. That, and the adrenaline is kicking my ass right now."

"If we make it out of here, I'm gonna kick your ass."

Evan's hand is right there, balanced on his knee, and Tommy - the plan he's been formulating out of thin air coalesces. It might actually fucking work, too.

Tommy reaches for it. Squeezes. "That a promise?"

Evan rolls his wrist, and palm to palm he squeezes back.

If he ever has the chance to look back on this, he's going to have some pointers on the script. He's always eaten up rom-com stakes in the middle of an action movie, but the dialogue could use some work.

He needs to keep Evan occupied at least until that bird is in the air.

"You think anyone had bets I'd say it over comms? LAFD has a whole bookie system devoted to your house, you know."

"Tommy."

"In about seventy seconds they're gonna realize I disabled a bunch of systems they can't enable back in the air, and we're gonna make a run for the ladder."

"Tommy," he says again, eyes bright, hand squeezing harder.

"Stay low, do not engage, if the guys who went down the stairwell come back you let me handle it."

"Tommy, shut up," Evan says, and ducks in to kiss him.

[tuiccim]

A Little Jelly(fish)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1768

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: Your hobby attracts the attention of a handsome super soldier.

A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby.

Sitting in the common room, you were so close to finishing the crochet project you had undertaken. It would hopefully turn into a large, stuffed jellyfish for a friend's baby shower gift. The baby's bedroom was under the sea themed, and you hoped your homemade creation would be a fun addition. Now, you were working on crocheting the frilly tentacles and attaching them. It was a quiet day and you were enjoying a bit of calm with just some quiet piano music playing as you moved the hook. 

"Whatcha got there?"

You jump at the sound and then turn with an embarrassed little laugh to face Bucky, "You startled me. I was in my own little world."

"Sorry, doll," he smiles with just a hint of mischief in his eyes. 

"Mm-hm," you smirk. "It's a gift for a friend's baby shower. It'll hopefully turn into a jellyfish. Their room is ocean themed." You felt a little sheepish as you explained. You don't know Bucky well and try to hide your surprise when he sits next to you. 

"That's really cool of you to make a gift. I'd be curious to see it when it's done," he says.

"Thanks for saying that. I was kinda wondering if it might seem cheap or stupid to make the gift. I'll make sure to show it to you before I wrap it up,"

"When's the party?" Bucky fiddles with the end of the tentacle you're working on. 

"Two weeks," you answer before laughing, "I actually have this baby shower, another one a few weeks after, and two weddings in the next two months. I'm gonna go broke if I don't make at least one of the gifts."

"Are you going to make another one for the other baby shower?" Bucky asks as he watches your hands. 

"No, it's more of a sprinkle than a shower. It's their third baby so we're just doing diapers and wipes for gifts," you explain. 

"Wow, three," Bucky's eyebrows rise. 

"Yeah, it's a lot but they're great parents. Do you have any hobbies?" You feel inexplicably self-conscious talking about babies and attempt to change the subject. 

"Yeah. I like to read, work on my bike. I build models sometimes," he shrugs. 

"What kind of models? Like cars or planes?" You ask. 

"Uh, sometimes," he scratches his neck as if embarrassed, "Spaceships more often." His cheeks tint a little pink. 

"That's cool. I love space. I'm always so interested when NASA releases new photos and information about the universe. I especially like the pictures of the nebulas. There's an abstract beauty to them," you smile at him. 

"Exactly. I'm always interested when they find new planets or stars. Black holes," Bucky says excitedly. 

"It's so vast. I wonder if one day we’ll see a planet with satellites and space debris. A world similar to ours. I mean, we know there’s life out there now but I’m still curious to see if we ever find one. I’m sorry. I sound crazy.”

“Not at all. I agree with you,” Bucky launches into some of the things he got to see in Wakanda that fascinated him and you ended up talking with him for over an hour before it was time for you to go. With another promise to show him the finished product, you head out to your meeting. 

–

Several days later, you timidly knock on Bucky’s door. You had the crocheted jellyfish in hand to show him. You heard what sounded like a minor tussle behind the door and leaned closer to listen. 

“Oh, no, you don’t! You can’t get away from me that easily,” Bucky’s voice can be heard before a sudden bump against the door had you jumping back. “Damn cat!” He growls aggravatedly before opening the door while rubbing his chest as if injured. When he looks up, surprise registers and he straightens quickly, “Oh, hi.”

“Uh, hey. Is- is this a bad time?” You ask with concern. 

 “Fine. Great. What, uh, brings you by?” He smiles nervously. 

You hold up the jellyfish awkwardly, “I finished it. Um…”

“Oh my god, it’s so cute! Look at it,” Bucky smiles brightly as he holds his hands out. You readily hand over the stuffed animal, “I made it so it can be hung up until the baby is a little older.”

“That’s such a good idea. I’m so impressed,” he enthuses. 

“Oh, thank you,” you smile pleased but slightly embarrassed. “It really wasn’t that difficult-Ow!” You look down to find a beautiful cat swatting at the jellyfish’s dangly legs. Unfortunately, her last swipe went right across your leg leaving three thin lines of blood. 

“No! Alpine, no!” Bucky swoops down to pick up the cat but then ends up comically holding the jellyfish as far as possible from the flailing cat determined to capture the legs.

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as you retrieve the jellyfish and quickly stuff it into your bag. The cat, apparently named Alpine, calmed as it realized playtime was over. Though she did look aggrieved at losing the new toy. “Well, hello, I usually request that drawing blood waits until the second meeting but I guess you’re more of a draw blood first, ask questions later, cat, huh?”

“I’m so sorry! I was just trying to clip her nails before you knocked. Let me get you a bandage,” he turns away and you can hear him whisper to the cat, “You are in SO much trouble.”

You giggle to yourself at the adorable display and then straighten your face quickly as he makes his way back with a cloth and bandage in hand. You reach for them but he pulls back. 

“Here, let me,” he reaches down. 

“Really, it’s nothing. I can do it. Thank you,” you reassure him. 

“I’m sorry. Do you want to come in?” Bucky gestures to the interior. 

“No, thank you. I was just stopping by to show you now that I’m finished. I should be going,” you smile as you take the bandage from his hand. “See you later.”

“Thanks for showing me, doll. Bye,” Bucky watches as you leave but then shakes himself and closes the door quickly. 

–

You berate yourself with each stitch you make of the silly project you had set for yourself. As the hook moves quickly in your hand, you tell yourself how pathetic this little crush on Bucky is and that making a stupid crocheted present for his cat is an act of desperation he would immediately see through. But your hands just kept making the necessary loops. 

After your little encounter with Alpine you had decided that making her a catnip stuffed jellyfish would be a great way to use up some of your scrap yarn. It would be a smaller version of the one you had made and wonky looking from all the different yarns but you were sure it would make the cat happy. Even if it made you look like an idiot. 

When it was finished, it sat on your desk and mocked you for not dropping it off. You were nervous and felt stupid for even making it. What if he hated it? Worse, what if Alpine hated it? What if he figured out your motive? Did he already know about your schoolgirl crush? He would probably see right through this gesture and you’d never be able to face him again. 

You should just take it to him and say ‘Here is my desperate attempt to get you to talk to me because I think you’re amazing’ and then you could just die from the embarrassment and not have to worry about it anymore. You shake your head at the stupid thought. You considered finding a gift bag but felt that was too formal for the simple gift. Instead you grabbed it so it’s very presence would no longer send you into your own head. You doggedly march to Bucky’s door and then knock gently. As soon as the door opens, your mind goes completely blank and you just stare at him.  

“Hi. What’s going on, doll?” Bucky’s brow furrows as he studies you.

“Uh, I, um, hi. I’m sorry. I, um, I,” clamping your mouth shut, you close your eyes, take a deep breath and start again, “I made this for Alpine.” You hold out the crocheted jellyfish with a smile pasted on. You felt like an idiot. 

Bucky looks down at the colorful cat-sized toy and smiles broadly, “This is amazing, doll! Let’s find her.” 

Before you realize what’s happening, Bucky grabs your hand and pulls you along behind him until he locates the cat. She was laid in a sliver of sunlight on the floor making her white fur look luminous. At his approach, Alpine lifts her head and within seconds of him jiggling the toy above her, is on her feet and batting at it. As soon as she catches it and manages to wrestle it away from Bucky, she takes a long sniff at the toy and then rolls her body over and around it. 

“I think she likes it,” Bucky smiles at you. 

“I’m so glad. I thought she might be a little jelly that the first one wasn’t for her, so I…” you shrug. 

“Alpine, were you a little jelly you didn’t have a jelly?” He laughs. “That was really sweet of you to do that for her. Thanks,” he gives the hand he’s still holding a squeeze.

“Of course. I figured it would be a good way to use up some old yarn,” you nod and wonder if you should keep holding his hand or let go. 

“Yeah. Sorry,” he says sheepishly as he lets go of your hand. 

“Oh, I didn’t mind. Anyway, I just thought I’d bring it by,” you fidget with your hands and turn for the door, “So-”

“Would you like to go out to dinner?” Bucky interrupts. 

“Wh-what?” You stammer. 

“Like on a date? With me?” Bucky raises his brows hopefully. 

“Um, yeah, I’d like that,”  you smile, trying to hold in the surge of giddiness that washes over you. 

“I’ve been wanting to ask you that for weeks,” he confesses with a sigh of relief.

“Really?” You ask. 

“You didn’t know? I figured I’d made an idiot of myself trying to get opportunities to talk to you. I was worried you’d think I was a menace,” he blushes.

“I’d never think that of you.”

“Are you free tonight? I admit, I’ll be a little jelly if you’re not,” Bucky grins. 

“No need to be jelly. I’m all yours,” you smile.

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[venomvalley]

Do you accept requests? If so, I thought of a fic where Sevika teaches the reader how to play that card game she plays so much, and then the reader ends up getting addicted and keeps begging Sevika to play with her

TWO OF A KIND

sevika x fem!reader | 2.6k words

TAGS: mentions of drinking and smoking. this is actually cute

NOTES: im so obsessed with this request u have no idea thank u !!!! btw i have no idea how the card game works so uh

“No, not that one. This one.”

You're ready to flip the damn table, cards and coins and all. With her lack of patience and her proficiency at the game, Sevika proves time and time again to be a horrible teacher. Especially when there's real money on the line.

You fight against the arm slung around your waist to turn and glare at her, the lights of The Last Drop bathing her in soft, orange-toned shadows. “Sev, you just said that these two make a pair.”

“Save those for when you have a better hand. Your cards are shit right now.”

The man across from you, rosy-cheeked and burly, exhales a wheezing laugh. One of many bar regulars that she often plays with, empathetic to your newborn-gambling plight. “Aw, cut the poor woman some slack. She's learning.”

“Well, she needs to learn faster.” At the smack you give to her thigh, she peers down at you, plush lips stretching into a grin. Teasing.

"One of these days, I'll beat you. Mark my words."

Another one of the men leans forward with a toothy grin, canine freshly missing after that fight in the alley last week. "Let's bet on it."

Sevika shakes her head as a cheer echoes around the table. "No. No betting. She's cost me enough money already."

You fidget in her lap as the men grow rowdy, slapping the table with each chant of BET! BET! BET! BET!

"Sevika's just scared I'll win," you yell over the chaos, drink sloshing over the rim of your glass and onto your pants as the man to your left jostles your shoulder in excitement, shoving you a bit too far. If not for the arm around your waist, you would've sprawled out onto the floor.

It doesn't scare you, but it startles you. Makes you gasp in surprise—

The air ices over when a prosthetic hand clamps around his wrist, and he hisses a pained breath through his teeth but doesn't attempt to pull away.

You tap her on the shoulder, cards bent between your fingers, explaining to her that you’re fine to no avail—it’s about the principle. The other men lean away from the building chaos, glancing back and forth between each other.

Well. Game's over.

"What's the number one rule when she," a nod of her head to you, "plays with us?"

He gulps, eyes flickering down to where she holds him. "No touching."

"Exactly." She releases him with a huff, pries the cards from your hand before bending them back to straighten out the crease down the center. "Next time you forget, I'm taking your arm home with me."

Gods, being on the receiving end of her anger must be terrifying. Something you've never had to worry about—usually, the confrontations start because of you. People getting a bit too handsy, making comments she doesn’t appreciate, swearing threats of harm to spite her.

She’s protective of you because she has to be. Still doesn’t talk about the incident on your birthday two years ago, and definitely doesn’t want a repeat.

"Won't happen again," he says, voice small and wavering. Poor man might piss himself right in his chair.

She gives him one last glare before turning back to the table, eyes landing on you, then spreads out your cards directly in front of your face. "Now, where were we?” . . . The weeks continue on much the same. Every weekend, she takes you to the bar to play with your group. Sends you to fetch drinks for the table as she deals out the cards. Tugs you into her lap with a hand around your waist. And you get better with each game, more confident in your decisions as time goes on.

Today is different, though.

You play most of the game on your own, only seeking her knowledge on terms unfamiliar to you. She corrects you in certain rounds, namely the effectiveness of your strategy, but gazes down at you with pretty eyes filled with pride each time you seek out her validation.

And you find yourself genuinely enjoying the experience. A fun way to socialize, good competition, flexing your brain power. The money aspect doesn't personally interest you like it does her, but you understand why she loves playing so much (and you're a lot less sulky about all the times she stayed out late at the bar).

The others go easier on you once you win your very first round with minimal influence from Sevika. The drama from last month is long-forgotten as they cheer in celebration, one of the men leaving to buy your favorite drink as a reward.

Like always, she takes the first sip when he hands it over. You had asked her about it a few weeks back, and she simply shrugged and said, 'I don't trust anyone with you,' the absolute sap of a woman. Every time she's done it since, you like to think of it as her showing her love. A running theme in your relationship: show don't tell. You've always appreciated her approach to things.

But it isn't until late into the night when the game begins to heat up that you get your very own seat, shoved right up against hers. A first for you, a clear sign of your improvement. Finally part of their little group instead of being brushed off as Sevika's decorative lapdog.

Except now, you play against her in earnest. Your first tried and true test. No hints, no help, just the knowledge you've absorbed thus far. You do better than expected. Drop out in third place with her scraping up a win.

This is when your obsession officially begins.

A few months go by, and you find yourself spending more time at your little table in the corner of the bar. More time without her playing alongside you. The guys welcome you with open arms when you stroll through the door by yourself, and you can almost smell her influence. Must've given them a stern talking-to on one of the nights you didn’t feel like playing.

Tonight, though, she accompanies you, only hours back from whatever run Silco sent her on. You had begged her to come with you for the perfect way to end out the week, a good bonding activity, she owes you after being gone four days.

(”Fine. I'll go, but we aren't staying long.”)

And tonight, it happens. You finally win.

Ignore the fact that the whole table is piss drunk, Sevika included, and it's been a solid month of frustration and tears and perhaps a tantrum or two, but you finally did it. By a landslide, to boot.

She pulls you into her lap with a chest-rattling laugh then kisses you hard and messy on the cheek. “That's my girl!”

You soak up her praise and the resounding group's cheers like a sponge, ears flushing with heat, and throw your arms around her neck.

The next morning, she asks about who won the final game, pouting over a piece of toast from the headache thrumming through her skull.

“I did, actually.”

A raise of her eyebrow. “Don't remember you drinking.”

You sputter, brows furrowed in offense. “So? I still won.”

She shrugs, mouth splitting into a teasing grin. “Whatever you say.”

“I did.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“You're an asshole.”

And yet you press a tender kiss to the top of her head as you pass by the table.

.

.

.

Sevika is gone again, and you need a change of scenery. Your new destination? A club a long ways away from her apartment that she's mentioned a few times before, with a rumored underground lounge perfect for one thing: card playing.

Alright. Well. You've been here for a while longer than you intended, but what else is there to do in the Undercity besides sit at a bar, go clubbing, and eat? (A bit oversimplified, but the general point still stands.) And none of those things are fun when she’s off risking her life at some warehouse or dock or sketchy alleyway.

So you need a distraction, and nothing fills your dopamine tank like winning. And you've done a lot of it over the past two days, to the point where you’re starting to believe that some of the men sitting at your table have a losing fetish.

Or maybe you’ve just gotten that good.

However, the fun stops when a pair of boots pound down the steps into the small room you reside in. The air thick with smoke, three sets of tables and occupied chairs squeezed as close as possible to make room for a small bar and a jukebox.

Sevika ducks through the cramped doorway with a determined furrow to her brow, and you've never felt terrified of her—the sharp search of her gaze—until now.

“Oh shit!”

You shove your chair away from the table and crawl beneath it, knocking your shoulder on its edge. Through the throng of seated legs, you spot her walking around the room, pausing every so often to no doubt ask about you.

She wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow.

On the other side of the table, the face of the woman you’ve been playing with comes into view. “What the fuck are you doing? We're on the last round!”

Slowly, Sevika's boots move closer to your table, and the scrape of chair legs spins you around. You lock on to her shadowed form, bent uncomfortably at the waist just to pin you with a disapproving glare.

You immediately start begging. “One more game, please—”

“No. I'm cutting you off.”

You crawl out from beneath the table with a frustrated growl, shoulder tender with each movement. “I'm on a winning streak!”

“You haven't been home in two days. Where the hell have you even been sleeping?”

You don't even ask how she knows that. If a rat so much as shits in the street around the Lanes, somebody runs to tell her. Of course your little adventure would trigger alarm bells (namely because you can’t be bothered to go anywhere too far).

Yeah, this is admittedly very odd behavior from you.

The man to your left raises his hand, belches, then almost topples over onto you. “We got an apartment in the next building over. Our girl's been crashing on the couch.”

She slams a hand on the table, knocking over the remaining glasses still filled with liquid (some of which ends up on your favorite pair of pants). Points a murderous finger at the man with an adorable, pouting frown. “First of all, there is no our. And you—” she rounds on you so suddenly you jolt, then grabs you by the arm, “we’re going home.”

A wave of protests echo around the table, and it takes only a single scowl from her for them to concede.

She leads you out of the room and up the steps, eerily silent the whole way.

Once you step out onto the street, she starts on you, furrowed brows hiding the fury in her gaze. “What the hell were you thinking? I was—” she pauses, chin dipping toward her chest for a moment before she looks at you once again. “You seem to forget who I am. Who you are to me.”

Worry leaks through her pores, radiates from her in waves, and she tries to stay calm, to shove the feeling down, but the glimmer in her eyes gives her away.

Any other time, you would comfort her, but your hackles raise at the implication. “That goes both ways, you know.”

“It's different. You know that.”

As if you don't worry yourself sick every time she walks out the door. You fucking love her. How could it be any different? Capability means nothing in the face of statistics. And statistically, there’s always a chance she doesn’t come home

“Why, ‘cause I'm weak? I've lived here all my life, same as you, Sev. You act like I'm incompetent.”

Anger burns hot in your gut, and you turn on your heel to storm off. Up ahead, there's a split in the road that goes either right or left, and you bank on the latter.

A short ways behind you, she calls, “Wrong way, honey.”

You whip around to give her your meanest glare, a sunstorm surging inside you at the sight of her smug grin. Beautiful asshole.

“Thanks,” you spit, leaving her in the dust as you walk as fast as your legs can carry you.

Except you don't. She gives you space to cool off, but the thump of her boots still echo off the pavement. Close enough to look out for you. It's sweet and it shouldn't be because you're angry at her, which pisses you off even more. She's so hard to be mad at when she’s all concerned and protective and soft with you.

Upon realizing that you're totally, completely lost, you stop long enough for her to catch up, and her form quickly appears in the corner of your eye.

“You done sulking?”

All it takes is a glance at her relaxed face and a heavy sigh from your lungs for the remaining upset to dissolve. Because you love her, and you don't like being angry. “Yeah… Sorry for being an asshole.”

“Apology accepted.”

With a scoff, you slap her hard on the ass, quick enough to pull away that her hand just barely misses your wrist. “You're the bigger one, though.”

The startled glare on her face makes your future punishment worth it. She'll catch you unawares, maybe not today or tomorrow or even a week from now, but she'll eventually give as good as she got.

And then the surprise fades away to something tender, face softening.

“I'm sorry, too,” she mutters. “But you know how I am. Can’t protect what I can’t see.”

With an aching chest, you bring her hand to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to the scarred ridge of her knuckles. “Apology accepted.”

The walk home after that is long and quiet, her hand in yours warm and comforting. By the grace of the gods, your outing ends peacefully for once, and spending time with her in such a simple way is a huge plus after being apart for so long (two days—psh).

Once you near her apartment, she finally speaks, a hint of irritation woven between the words. “So. Did you at least win anything?”

You perk up at the question, a toothy smile sore-ing up your face. “Oh, did I?” With a tug to her hand, she stops. Crosses her arms, expectant (and you absolutely don't pay attention to the delicious bulge of her bicep). “Let me show you.” You reach beneath your cloak, and from the pocket of your pants you pull out a hefty coin purse. One she immediately eyes with a raised brow. “You see this?”

“I see it.”

“Who knew that guys around here paid extra to have their asses handed to them by a pretty girl?”

She tries to suppress her mirth. Really, she does. But there's no mistaking the twinkle in her eye or the wide grin that stretches her lips.

“Yep.” You nod, chest puffing with pride as you wield the bag like a prized trophy. “I'm taking my woman out for a night on the town.”

“Not tonight, you aren't.” She rolls her eyes, dragging you along with a warm hand between your shoulder blades. “That was fucking stupid, by the way. Sleeping on a stranger's couch?”

“To be fair, he forgot to mention that he has a wife and kid.”

“That doesn't matter.”

“She fixed me breakfast, Sev.”

“I fix you breakfast.”

“Yeah, but mom breakfast tastes different.”

She heaves a resigned sigh and runs a hand over her tiny ponytail. “I've created a monster.”

[sincerelybubbles]

Hii

How are you doing?

I just read your shy reader and Hotch work and it's beautiful.

If you don't mind can I request something in a shy reader and Hotch setting? So, my request is that during a case reader and someone else on the team (other than Hotch) gets injured but the reader gets a concussion and other injuries and that's why she's not lucid. No one notices that R is injured and they focus on the other person until R just faints like Hotch did after the explosion on the show and the aftermath....

Thank you!!

tw: blood, cannon typical violence, poor writing after a too-long break

The room is spinning and Morgan is on the ground, clutching his arm. In the distance, you watch JJ drag the unsub over by the arm, his hands cuffed behind his back and a smug smirk on his face.

"Got you," the unsub barks at Morgan, spitting on the ground near his feet before JJ yanks him roughly toward the police cars.

Slowly, you stand, refusing to use the wall near you as support as you stumble to Morgan.

"Medic over here!" Hotch yells, jogging over and beating you to Morgan.

"It's just a graze," Morgan reassures Hotch, lifting his hand from his bicep and revealing the wound. Blood is trickling out in a slow stream from the wound, painting his dark skin crimson.

You nearly gag at the sight, nauseous from slamming your head against the ground. The fight is blurry in your memory, but you vaguely remember missing a step chasing the unsub down the stairs and knocking to the floor. You think the man might have pushed you, but you're unsure, the details lost in the loud bang from his gun, pointed at Morgan.

You drop to your knees near Morgan, pushing his and Hatch's unexperienced hands away and forcing your eyes to focus on the wound.

You were added to the team to fill several gaps, an experienced medic one of them along with another profiler on the team. While you wait for the paramedics to arrive, you can at least staunch the bleeding.

You think you hear Hotch asking questions but you can't focus on the low register of his voice over the ringing in your ears, solely prioritizing slowing the blood steadily pumping out of Morgan's bicep.

"Hey, sweetheart," Morgan nudges you away from his arm. You look up, confused. "Your boss is asking if you're alright." Nodding toward Hotch, Morgan smirks and rolls his eyes, "You know I'm good. Hurts like a bitch, but I'm good."

"Yeah," you mutter, nodding at the ground before refocusing on your task, "I'm alright."

You don't want to bring attention to the throbbing in your head, sure it's fine and even more sure that nobody saw you fall. The embarrassment of bringing attention to it is more then you could bear with the pounding between your ears incessant in its annoyance.

"If you're sure you have this handled, I would like to go talk to JJ." You wave Hotch off, catching sight of the paramedics rushing over.

He walks off, purposeful in his long strides, following JJ where she's leaning over the unsub in the back of a cruiser. You notice, in a fleeting moment, that his hair is rumpled, his shirtsleeves wrinkled. Hotch disheveled is a rare but welcome sight, one you ache to see more often, and you let yourself fall back and away from Morgan to admire it while the paramedics tend to him.

Blood has dried on your hands and you wipe them absently as you settle onto the ground. Nobody has quite noticed your sluggish movements in the awkward space of releasing adrenaline fading after days of building. The emptiness of it, the sudden space for more emotion and thought, is something you usually relish in. You enjoy having a puzzle to focus on, a problem to solve, simply for the pleasure of the release of that worry at the end. The solution is more satisfying than the untangling but you can't focus on that now, eyes unfocused as you watch Hotch cross his arms.

His muscles flex under the fabric of his shirt pulled tight around them. It's this distraction that you'll blame on the haziness of your thought, ignoring the consistent pain at the side of your skull.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, trying to bring your mind to focus on your actual priorities. You have processed you should be following, things to focus on, something important that you need to tell someone. You can't remember what, though, everything buried under the ever present haze of pain.

A call of your last name has your eyes snapping open. Hotch is looking at you now, eyes concerned. You struggle to think of what you've done to bring that look to his face.

Slow processing brings you to remember that you should probably be over there, reporting on the fight that he didn't see.

"Sorry," you say, louder then you wanted, scrambling to stand up.

"For?" Hotch asks, striding toward you. You could have swore that he was further away, that the space between you two was vast, far enough that your vision had reason to blur and you had enough cover to be staring at anything - not obvious that you were ogling him.

"Hm?" You ask, confused already, ignoring his offered hand to stand.

"Are you okay?" He asks, eyes flickering over your face.

You flush, blinking hard once and then again, slowly, nodding before attempting to walk closer to him, stumbling on your steps.

The world tilts, spinning, focused around Hotch (always, always focused on him) and you see his face catch on panic as you fall before everything goes dark.

----

You wake up in a hospital, the fluorescent lights familiar and unwelcome. You groan out, upset.

Your name catches your attention, a voice you would know anywhere. God, why is he here? You're sure you look a mess and whatever injury caused this visit is certainly not enough to warrant his attention and worry.

"Come on beautiful, it's time to wake up," a hand passing over your forehead reminds you that you shut your eyes against the lights and you warily open them again.

Hotch is in a sweatshirt, leaning against the railing of your bed, a kind smile on his face.

"Hi," he says, voice soft. "I'm very angry at you."

"Yeah, seems like it," you say, sarcasm dripping, before you remember who you're talking to. Your face warms rapidly, "oh my god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

Hotch looks overjoyed, though, a smile widening across his face, warm and sweet. "Who knew a concussion is all I needed to crack that shell of yours?"

"Concussion?"

"Exactly the reason I'm mad, actually."

"What?" You ask, confused again, closing your eyes at a throb of pain.

Hotch chuckles, you're sure the sound of it will be your undoing, too hot as the sound of it bounces through your ears and straight to your chest.

"We'll talk about it later, rest now."

sorry I've been gone. I haven't proof read this, either, nor have I written in weeks. I missed you guys, though <3

[princessbrunette]

having sex with your ex boyfriend jj maybank isn’t for the weak, not when you make it so difficult for things to be normal.

you’re on your back, in the most intimate of positions, legs over his shoulders, face twisted and glossy walls squeezing him tight. you’re all teary eyed, but you always got that way during sex when you were together. he doesn’t notice anything might be wrong until he hears you sniffle and you run two hands through his hair.

he stops his thrusting, panting above you and holding himself up on strong arms. “you good? what’s up?” he breathes and you bite down on your bottom lip, the way you do when you overthink.

“have you fucked anyone else since we broke up?”

you weren’t unaware of the way jj was before he met you. he got around, and you expected him to go back to the way he was after you broke up. he huffs an awkward laugh through his teeth when you ask the question, dropping his head to avoid your eyes. it wasn’t a no, then.

“why you askin’ that kinda thing, c’mon babe.” his slightly southern drawl is charming enough to almost make you drop the whole thing, especially when he busies himself with repositioning you now he knows it’s nothing serious that’s wrong with you, wide hands scooping beneath your ass to handle you closer to him as he begins to build his pace in thrusts again.

you groan, eyes fluttering when he hits a new spot, briefly blanking out on your conversation. but when he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, you remember, and you’re hit with the emotion all over again.

“did— did you look at her?”

“wh— huh?” he squints, catching his breath as he tunes into your questioning again.

“did you look her in the eyes when you fucked her jayj?” you mewl, clearly deeply upset. he squeezes his eyes shut, straight up ignoring you to speed up his thrusts, working towards the finish line. “jj!” you cry out at the lack of answer.

“no, okay— shit! can you stop bombardin’ me with questions?” he fucks you a little harder now, the bed starting to creak and slam repeatedly into the wall.

“did you tell her to move her hand? did— did she moan when — when you pushed it back in after it slipped… slipped out—” his dick feels good but your emotions get the better of you, staring up at him begging for the eye contact. he licks his lips, adjusting where he rests his weight so he could stuff two fingers into your mouth, palm resting on your chin as his digits lay heavy on your tongue.

“how ‘bout no more questions.” he mutters, sitting up a little so that his one free hand could slither down and abuse your clit until you were creaming around his base, crying and pleading incoherently. he didn’t know where your pleasure ended and where your hurt began, but he couldn’t think straight — continuing to beat your pussy until he was releasing himself.

he makes the skin of your neck all warm and tepid as he pants into it afterwards, recovering.

“haven’t fucked anyone. not since you. that what you want? god damn.” he hisses breathlessly against you and you melt into the bed, tension expelled from your body just like that.

“good.”

[kinda-indecisive]

･˳ . ⋆   .˳⋆ Face Kisses pt. I ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳

Basically how I imagine their reactions to an onslaught of face kisses from you (MC). Fluff.

Part 1: The Xavier and Zayne Edition!

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Xavier

Xavier locked himself out of his apartment. Again.

You’re not sure what it was this time, whether he got distracted by the comic he’d been reading as he’d left this morning or if it was something else. But when he returned from the store carrying the two latest releases from that same series, he bumped into you outside the front door of your building and his eyes had widened in horror, then quickly settled into resignation. It was as if you had been a reminder of what he had forgotten and, before he said a thing, you asked, “You locked yourself out again, didn’t you?”

He admitted it with a sheepish nod, half-turning to return to chilly street. But you quickly stopped him by gently grabbing his sleeve.

“You can use the key you gave me. It’s on the kitchen counter. Or…”

“Or…?” He inquired, giving you a small squint and a smile as he tried to read your mood.

“Or you could come over for dinner! I was going to order something tonight, but I don’t have to. I'm sure I have the ingredients to make something simple.”

“Either sounds good to me,” he smiled, resolving to follow you up to your apartment, “And all food usually tastes better in good company.”

Your ingredients ended up being mismatched and a bit embarrassing, but Xavier hardly seemed to notice as the two of you decided on a menu to order from. You chatted over the meal, watched some funny videos on your phones together, cleared the table together, and now Xavier has made himself comfortable on your couch, his brow scrunched ever so slightly as he reads one of the comics that likely got him into this situation.

You pretend to be doing something, though if Xavier looked over he might be very confused by the strange way you wring the dish towel in your hands.

In all truth, you can’t help but watch him as he reads, his expression changing ever so slightly at the events in the story. A tiny frown appearing between his brows before his eyes soften and he lets out a tiny ‘hm’, though you can’t quite tell if it’s a sound of relief or annoyance from the character’s decisions.

He’s so cute. And devastatingly handsome. Sometimes you want to just squish him. And other times you just wanna smooch all over him.

Right now, it’s a bit of both.

You were so deeply into your own thoughts that you hadn’t realized you walked up to him. And now that he’s looking up at you in mild confusion and slight concern, you aren’t quite sure how to explain yourself.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, setting aside the comic and sitting up without taking his eyes off of you.

You shake your head and a little of the worry in his expression dissipates, though the confusion remains.

“Well then… have you come over just to say hi?” He chuckles, averting his eyes a little, his hand finding the back of his neck. When he turns back to you, his eyes widen in surprise when you take his face in between your hands.

“You’re just so… ugh!”

He looks up at you sheepishly while you resist the urge to squeeze his face between your hands. Sometimes your cuteness aggression goes wild around Xavier. Most of the time, you have a good handle on it. But right now, not so much.

His cheeks flush with heat when you start to place kisses all over his face, his eyes closing, his nose scrunching ever so slightly, only making him look even cuter.

Once your task is finished, he finally opens his eyes, his face still flushed, his lips parted slightly as he looks up at you.

“What was that for?”

“Did you really think I was going to let you just wander around after you locked yourself out? Didn’t I already tell you that you can always come here when that happens?” you say, placing your hands on your hips so that he knows you’re being serious.

He smiles faintly, “Okay, then. Besides, I really like it here. The hostess is very… friendly.”

Your own cheeks turn warm as you turn away, “You better not be meeting up with any other friendly hostesses.”

He shakes his head, chucking softly at your subtle jealousy, “Nope. I could never.”

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Zayne

When you wake up, you find the bed otherwise empty. It’s likely he’s already up and working, though it’s supposed to be his day off. That is, if he hasn’t already been called in for an emergency.

Peeking your head from the bedroom, you can’t help but grin at the sight of the dim lamp light and quiet sounds of the keyboard in the living room. He’s still here!

Slinking into the room, you buzz with excitement, but still manage to approach him without making any noise. As per usual, he is so focused on what he’s doing that he doesn’t look up for a second. And when you come up behind him and drape your arms around his neck, he acknowledges you with a tug at the corner of his lips and a small kiss against your forearm.

“G’morning,” you greet him, eyebrow raising when his typing doesn’t cease for a second.

“Good morning. Though it’s still quite early. You should go back to bed,” he says, his voice a mixture of affection and ‘doctor orders’ at the same time.

“But what if I wanna stay up with you?”

He acknowledges your somewhat rhetorical question with a hum, his eyes partially blocked by the light reflecting off the laptop screen as he types out a quick email and sends it off.

“Then you’ll have to keep yourself occupied a little while longer. I can’t provide much entertainment for you for at least three more emails.”

He still hasn’t taken his eyes off the computer once and you find yourself pouting about it, even though you know that most of the time when he does his emails this early it’s so he can give you his undivided attention later in the day, which you really appreciate.

The thought makes you want to squeeze him tighter, but you resist, settling on placing a quick kiss on his cheek. Lifting your head, you lean over his other shoulder to place a kiss on the same spot on his other cheek.

Back and forth you move, showering your good friend, your doctor, (the love of your life?!) with the affection you feel bubbling out of you. You are a little dejected, however, when he still gives you little more than a head tilt in response.

“Wow. Sometimes I’m impressed by how professional Dr. Zayne is. He really gives me no reaction at all when he’s in ‘the zone’,” you tease.

“Are you trying to get a reaction out of me?” he asks, clicking through his tabs before stopping on one with what looks like the results of someone’s EKG. When he is concerned about something he sees, he’ll spend a long while examining these kinds of results, his fingers steepled, his eyebrows furrowed. Today the patient appears to be lucky, as he glances over them briefly before sending it off to Dr. Greyson.

You ignore his question, “Are they having a busy morning without you or something?”

Silence. Then, “I had some trouble sleeping, so I offered to look over a few things before attempting to go back to sleep. However, it’s been about an hour or so since.”

Nightmares. That would explain the reason he still has yet to look at you. The reason he has yet to respond to your kisses. He’s right, however, that you would like a reaction from him.

You resume your playful kisses. This time, however, he sighs softly, slumping into the chair just a bit, placing his hand over your forearm.

“I wish I could fight your nightmares for you,” you murmur and he finally looks up at you, his eyes slightly humored behind his glasses.

“I imagine you would if you could, though the image of your attempt might be sufficient in chasing them away, as well. If nightmares were sentient things, I could easily imagine you putting it in a headlock and bullying it into doing as you wish.”

Heat creeps into your cheeks, “Is that how you see me? As a bully?”

He shakes his head slightly, his hair brushing your cheek, “Not a bully, exactly. But you have a tendency to get passionate about things. For example, you sneak into the room while someone is working and shower them with kisses from behind.”

“Oh? So you think I’m passionate about everything when it comes to you?”

“Certainly. I know that for a fact,” he murmurs, clearing his throat as his ear turns warm against your cheek.

Giggling, you concede that it’s true.

Lowering your head, you place a kiss against his jaw, just below his earlobe, causing the blush in his ears to deepen. You are quite pleased with the reaction you’ve finally gotten out of him.

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

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Let me know if you wanna be tagged on the next post :)

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MASTERLIST LINK

[pennyluna]

Secretly Mine - One Shot -Jeon Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (Female) 🔞

Genre: Secret dating - slight smut - friends

Plot: little secret being revealed

Word count: 1.243

A/N: This one shot is part of a collection of one shots I am working in right now. Sorry it took me a long time to post again, I was busy moving to a new country and settling in so I haven't had much time to post but I am back now.

I open my eyes, my sight blurry and I feel my head pounding... ugh. I went out to a club with a couple of friends last night and ended up bumping into Jungkook and his friends, it was a fun night that ended on me having to help him bring two very drunk Jimin and Mingyu back to Jungkook's apartment, where I ended up also staying the night.

After putting Jimin and Mingyu in the guestrooms, I tried to leave but Jungkook's very good passionate kisses convinced me otherwise. Now I look at the handsome man laying next to me, his breathing calm and even, he seems so peaceful so I try my best not to wake him, I try to move his heavy arm from around my naked body, which results on him steering in bed but staying asleep.

I need a shower so I get off the bed noticing how our clothes are all over the floor, my tight leather dress that was almost ripped from my body seems so small laying there next to his t-shirt. I grabbed the clothes and pulled them all into his corner chair  -My head hurts-

I love the water pressure in Jungkook's shower, I love the frosted shower screen and how spacious it is.

I let the warm water run from my head and  wash over my body in hopes that it will take the hangover away, while relaxing I hear the bathroom door open and close but I don't move, I know it's him.

"Good morning, beautiful" Jungkook says while lowering himself to kiss my shoulder. I tilt my head back onto his chest now firmly pressed against my back.

"Did I wake you?"

"Did you not get enough last night?" I say, a moan escaping my lips. "The boys are still here, they might hear us."

"Nah. I just missed you out there" he says while starting to trace kisses on my neck. His hands moving one to my breast and one to my core, where his fingers start rubbing my clit.

I let myself melt into him.

"Never." He says between neck kisses " They are still asleep and the walls are pretty thick so don't worry."

We had done it in here before but no one else was ever in the house at the same time so I worry, I'm not ready for people to find out about our little secret.

He turns me around "(Y/L) trust me..." he looks at me, scanning my face that seem to not be showing the emotion he is looking for so he drops to his knees, pulls one of my legs over his shoulder and looking into my eyes he adds "let me help you relax"

I'm so close to my release that I start shaking and he is smiling at me mischievously, he is dragging it out, torturing me a little and enjoying it.

After one of the best orgasms I've ever had through Oral sex, he gets up pulling my legs to his waist and holding me against the wall. I can feel his cock rubbing my entrance and taking a break from a very intense kiss, he pushes in causing us both to groan in pleasure.

Once he knows I have adjusted to his size, he starts pushing in and out of me, making my eyes roll back ad shut.

He picks up the pace, our kisses more passionate each time and my orgasm is building. I know his is too. I know all the signs of his body like he knows mine and this is meant to be a morning quicky, I can feel the muscles in his back tensing under my fingertips.

"Oh My Gㅡ YES. YES! I'mㅡ" my moans get placated by his big hand placed on my mouth. I want to complain because he stopped thrusting into me while I was trying to ride my orgasm but when I look at him I notice the panicked look in his eyes and then I hear the reason.

"Hey Kook, sorry for barging in. I really need to pee and I think Mingyu is throwing up on the other one" It's Jimin. Jimin is in the freaking bathroom while I'm fully naked. Not to mention the fact that his precious golden maknae's cock is buried deep inside of me. OH MY GOD.

"Jimin. What the fuck? Get out" Jungkook orders him.

"I just need to pee. Give me one second" I hear a belt buckle followed by a zipper and my eyes widen.

"JIMIN. GET THE FUCK OUT." His voice is now seriously scary and some how it turns me on, causing my pussy to clench around Jungkook's cock who closes his eyes trying to level his breathing and then gives me a warning look.

"Kook, I'll be out in a second" I hear the sound of what I assume is his pee hitting the water in the toilet and resign, throwing my head into Jungkook's chest. -I don't think this could be any worse- " Hey so, I think I'll ask (Y/N) out." My head snaps back up and I lock eyes with Jungkook who looks very annoyed. "She looked so fucking hot last night with that dress. I couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel to take it off her..." my brain shuts off, I could not continue listening to what seemed like a mini rant about all the ways he would do me.

"Jimin shut up and get the fuck out" Jungkook's words came out slowly but they were a warning that sounded dangerous and it snapped me out of my disassociating state.

"Bro what the heck is your problem? I'm telling you about a girl I want to hook up with" Jimin's tone seems annoyed but pleading.

"I can't help you get (Y/N)..." 

I've always known Jungkook gets jealous easily, specially when people talk about me but this is not Jimin's fault, he doesn't know his friend and I are in a relationship. Jungkook and I have been dating for a while now but held off on telling the others because we want to enjoy our privacy bubble a bit longer. Well that and the fact I was scared of telling people.

I touch Jungkook's hand to get his attention and when he looks at me, I mouth 'it's time', he needs to tell his friend before this gets any more awkward. He has been wanting to tell him for a while but didn't because of me, so I let him know it's okay.

"Why not? You guys are close, you could just talk to her for me."

" Yeah, right. We are close. Very close. So I can't help you out with her"

"What do you mean? Why-" there is a few seconds of silence "Wait Jungkook... are you and (Y/N)... are you guys fucking?" his voice sound surprised and amused.

Jungkook turns to look at my blushing face and grins "Thanks to you, not anymore" 

"Huh?" there is a few seconds of silence and then a gasp "Wait.. are you- is she-?"

I can hear the realization hit him so I do the only thing I can think about "Hiii Chim"

"OH.. mmm... Hii (Y/N)!!"

"Oookay" Jungkook says slowly "Now can you get the fuck out please?"

Jimin leaves the bathroom and I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding. Jungkook's hands go to the back of my neck to hold me upright and he bends down to kiss me deeply.

"Mine. I can finally tell everyone that you are mine. My girl."

A/N 2: Hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if there is anyone you would like me to make a story one and I will try my best to add it to my list of one shots 😘

[deerspherestudios]

Short Break and To Dos!

Hello all! 🍄🍄👻 I'm glad to see people enjoying Day 3 so far! I was so nervous about showing another side to Mychael in the update I thought people wouldn't like him as much but plenty have reacted positively! ❤️

I'll add a TLDR; above the read more, but if you don't mind my ramblings and want more details about everything, I'll write everything below! Light spoilers ahead!

I'll be taking a short break from MO development until 28th October to work on a short VN for the Monstrous Desires jam!

Most probably missed it, but there's a tiny small patch to Day 3 explained here.

Queue will return soon! I just gotta handle some housekeeping first with my Patreon.

Regarding the feedback on Day 3, I'm glad people aren't as averse to the new side of Mychael, in that he isn't always soft and sweet. I want people to fall in love with a person after all, not a yandere caricature, and that means that person can get upset, angry and sometimes irrational when we don't know what's going on in their head even towards the subject of their affections. While some (understandably!) were shocked about his reaction to the mushrooms, it'll be clear as to why (hopefully!)

Some of you have given incredibly accurate theories, and I'll take that as something I've done well in building up the mystery!!! I'm excited to share more in the next update, but for now!

1. I'll be taking a short break from MO development to work on a short VN for the Monstrous Desires jam!

What I have planned for Day 4 of MO might be the biggest update so far, since one route will lead to a few official BAD ENDINGS as opposed to 'dead ends' like the current demo has. To those who really want to, you finally get to see Mychael at his worst. As usual, writing the script takes a few months with plenty of changes in between, and I don't wanna bulldoze ahead and rush the story when it's getting to the climax!

But before I jump into all of that I just wanna give myself a creative exercise and try exploring a different theme, style and setting with a fresh new character for the jam! Since I'm a sucker for the trope... yes, the new blorbo will also be a yandere, sorry, I'm predictable.💔 The jam ends on October 28th so development on MO will continue then!

The last time I wrote something remotely sci-fi was in high school, so this will be fun to try!

2. Most probably missed it, but there's a tiny small patch to Day 3 explained here.

What it says on the tin! If you've already played Day 3, rest assured there's no significant story changes. Just an updated credits list, three extra sprites for one route and a small fix in the code.

3. Queue will return soon! I just gotta handle some housekeeping first with my Patreon.

Plenty of people have sent such sweet and encouraging messages to my inbox on what they thought of the update and I cannot thank all of you enough for the support!! I can't wait to post them out to archive them on the blog and answer all your interesting theories and queries in my queue!

But for now I'm due for a short break from my socials and to catch up on my Patreon sketch requests haha. I also plan to release cut content from Day 3 for my Yearling and Deer patrons. Plus, I'll be working on some written prompts for extra lore so that's something to look forward to!

I'll be back soon! Take care, fireflies!! ❤️

[yeonzzzn]

eyes on me ; lee heeseung

pairing: biker bf!heeseung x afab!reader word count: 1k synopsis: heeseung picks you up after a later shift from work and showers you with kisses in front of your work building. warnings: making out in public, fluffy cutie heeseung, a bit suggestive.

Excitement settled through you at the sound of your boyfriend's motorbike ringing in your ears from your work desk. 

You rolled your chair over to the window and peeked out the blinds, seeing him take his helmet off and run a hand through his dyed hair and resting the helmet on the handle, a secondary helmet attached to the seat's pouch—your helmet, more specifically. Heeseung always made sure to secure your safety whenever you rode with him.

Heeseung also insisted on picking you up on days you worked later. You don’t live far from your workplace, but on days you stay past the sun setting, Heeseung didn’t like you walking alone and would rather you be with him safely. And to ya know, just be with him. He couldn’t ever get enough of you. 

You had roughly thirty minutes before your work day was over, so you rolled yourself back to your desk and counted down the minutes as you finished the rest of your work until it was finally time to punch out, gather your things, wave to your work bestie and skip out the building. 

Heeseung’s eyes lit up as he saw you walking out the door, his arms already stretched out and ready to hold you close. His smile is contagious as the corners of your lips curl up. 

“Hello, my love!” he said softly, pulling you by the ends of your jacket to press your body to his, placing a kiss on your forehead, “How was work, baby?” 

You wrap your arms around his waist and fully lean into him, pressing his lower back onto his bike, “It was boring, as per usual, but overall a pretty decent day.” 

Heeseung nodded and squeezed you tightly, “C’mere,” he whispered, slightly pulling back for you to look up at him, taking your chin between his index and thumb, “Can I have a kiss? I’ve missed you.” 

You smile up at your boyfriend, nodding without a second thought and standing on your tippy toes to reach his lips. They pressed to yours like the missing piece of a puzzle, so form fitting to yours. So perfect. 

Your smell intoxicated him and filled his senses, the perfect smell of your floral perfume making him dizzy and wanting more of you. He kissed you again, and again, and again. Deepening the kiss as his hands slid from your biceps down to your hips, slightly squeezing. His tongue licking at your bottom lip for permission to enter. 

As much as you wanted to open your mouth for him, you remembered you were outside your workplace with plenty of your coworkers still inside doing their jobs and you pulled your lips from his leaning your upper half away from him. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” he whispered, eyes slightly hooded and staring at your kiss-swollen lips, wanting nothing more than to dive right back into them. 

You tilt your head, “We are outside my workplace, Seungie…” 

Heeseung raised a brow, “So?” 

You slightly roll your eyes, attempting to move further away from him, but his hands slide to your back, keeping you firmly in place against him, “My coworkers might see us.” 

Heeseung understood where you were coming from. He loved your coworkers and had a pretty solid respect for them as they do for him. But he also does not care right now if they catch the two of you making out. They’ve all seen him give you kisses at dinner parties or company get-togethers. So what if they catch you two making out outside the company building? You’re off the clock.

Slowly glance behind you at the building, tracing your eyes up to each window. Heeseung releases one hand from your back to cup your face and turn you back to face him, “Baby,” he smiles cutely at you, pressing kisses over every inch of your face, not letting a single piece of skin on your face go untouched by his lips until finally placing them back onto your lips, “I adore kissing you, who cares if they see?” He whispered between kisses, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. 

You went to look back at the building, but his hands stopped you, “Hey,” He softly snapped, “YN, eyes on me, baby girl.” You locked eyes with him, seeing a mischievous smile curl on his lips, “Let me make out with my beautiful girlfriend, ya?” 

There was no protesting before his lips crashed back against yours. Hands roaming down to your ass and squeezing. Your mouth opened as you gasped at his touch, finding the opportunity to slide his tongue into your cavern, wrestling against your tongue as both your spit mixed together perfectly. 

Heeseung relaxed his body on his bike, pulling you completely to him. You lean further on him, not wanting a single part of him to not be touching you. If you could crawl into his skin, you would do it in a heartbeat right now. Your worries of a coworker catching you here are long pushed to the back of your mind and forgotten. You snake your arms around him tighter and open your mouth wider for his tongue to explore more. The taste of his strawberry chapstick filling your senses and…

Making you hungry. 

Your stomach growled loudly and Heeseung laughed against your lips, slowly pulling away and pushing your hair behind your ears, “Someone’s hungry?��� With a nod, to reached back up and planted another kiss to his lips. He welcomed the kiss and leaned into your touch, “Want to pick up something on the way back to your apartment?” He asked, pulling you away from him. 

You pout at the coldness that hits you once he fully removes your body from his, his hand reaching for your helmet, “Yeah, I guess.” 

Heeseung smiles as tilts his head, “Baby, I can give you more than just kisses after dinner, how does that sound?” 

The corners of your lips curled as you bit down on your lower lip, nodding at his proposal. Heeseung kisses your nose and places the helmet on your head, “Jump on the bike then, baby.” 

You giggle and fit yourself behind him on the bike, watching as he fixes the helmet to his head and starts up the bike then rides off into the night.

— tags: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @vixialuvs @seunghancore @enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @teddybeartaetae @kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @hee-lvrr @1309zip @moon0fthenight @jakeflvrz @021894s @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @surrik-i @heeseungsbm