#i don’t usually get mad but!! i’m tired!!

[skysdelusions]

Where are you going?

Summary: An argument that turns rather spicy

Pairing : Stray kids (ot8) x Fem!reader

Genre : Angst , Smut

Word count : 2.3k

Warnings : multiple positions , unprotected sex (I don’t condone, wrap it up), creampie after cream pie, oral sex (m!recieving) , name calling (kinda) , overstimulation. (Let me know if I missed anything)

Notes : Lord , I pushed through writing this. This is kinda of everywhere but I just want to get something out😼.

(This isn’t proof read , please forgive me 🧍🏽‍♀️)

You had been in a polyamorous relationship for about a year now with eight men. You loved these men so much that you could explode but your relationship was getting to that point where you guys had constant arguments. It wasn’t like your arguments were just with one person but eight people, Once one started the rest followed. Usually you’d end the fight with something hurtful then have hate sex. Today was nonetheless one of those days.

You were arguing with Minho because he had said something so out of pocket that it hurt your feelings. That argument had gotten so loud that the boys started piling out of their rooms to see what was all the yelling for.

“No cause your being such a bitch about it” Minho yelled

“I’M BITCHING? YOU FUCKING STARTED THIS!” You yelled

You were so fucking livid at this point , he tried to act like he was the victim when he didn’t have to say anything negative to you.

“YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO OPEN YOUR BIG FUCKING MOUTH TO CRITICIZE SOMEONE , SHUT THE FUCK UP SOMETIMES!” You yelled

He looked stunned , you never really curse anyone out that bad before. You didn’t care how he felt , you were tired of him poking and prodding at you. He needed to be put in his place.

“Baby don’t you think you were a little harsh?” Chris started

“No, I don’t think I was too harsh Chris , he had it coming .”

You were trying to calm down but they just kept saying you should apologize to Minho. Of course they were taking his side.

“I don’t think she should apologize, you guys know how Minho gets” Changbin said

Tears started to stream down cause you were getting frustrated. When you get mad , you start crying . It's been like that your whole life. Finally, some stood up for you and it was your lovely changbin. You loved changbin so much and you were thinking about rewarding him tonight but your thinking got interrupted.

“She should’ve never said those kinds of things to him though.” Jisung said, and the rest of the boys started agreeing. You honestly couldn’t take it any more and you didn’t have the heart to listen so you walked past some of the boys , to the front door and started putting on your shoes and coat. They started to walk towards you and asked where you were going but you just continued to leave.

You just needed time to breathe, to think, to calm down. You went home and replayed the argument in your head so many times that you cried yourself to sleep.

Hours passed, you woke and it was 10 pm already. You had worn yourself out. Even though you were mad at the boys, you missed them so much. You couldn’t stand being mad at them so you ultimately decided that you were going to make up with them , even though Minho started it.

On the ride to the boys dorm , you were just thinking about the argument and how Minho said those rude things to you. As you pulled up , you had to mentally get yourself together before going inside.

As you used your key for their apartment, you saw that they were sitting on the couch. Once they heard the clip of the front door , they quickly got up and tried to make their way towards but they were toppling over one another.

You put your hand up to stop them from coming close.

“We all need to talk.”

As you all sat on the couch , Before you could explain what’s been weighing on your mind, Minho started to speak.

“Baby, I’m so sorry , I didn't mean anything I said.”

“It felt like you did , you even called me out my name. Then everyone started to gang up on me. You guys made me feel like an outsider in my own relationship.” You cried

“Baby , we never wanted you to feel that way .” Chris started

Before Chris could say anything else , you cut him off.

“Well you did. Only changbin was by my side.” You sniffed

“But I don’t care any more , I said some things I shouldn’t have. I just can’t stand to be mad at you guys.”

After the boys started to give they’re apologies and hugs, you were thinking of a way to punish them.

“I want everyone to sit on the couch except changbin.” You said

As everyone settled on the couch , you went and grabbed a chair from the dining room and placed it in front of them.

“Sit , Changbin.”

Changbin had sat down and you started to explain what you were doing.

“I felt the need to punish you guys so this is what I’ll be doing. I’ll be fucking changbin and you guys will be watching. You guys can’t touch yourselves , you guys can’t touch me , you guys can’t touch changbin and you cannot touch each other. If you break these rules then I won’t be fucking you guys for the rest tonight and the rest of the month. Got it?” You smiled

You were so ready to punish and make Changbin suffer. Your sweet baby was just staring up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Baby , just be a good boy for me and let me do everything ok?”

“Yes.”

You started kissing changbin's body, as you were kissing him , you started to strip him until he was naked and until you were on your knees in front of him. You pulled his boxers down and his cock shot up and hit his stomach. You grabbed it and Changbin let out a sweet moan. You started stroking up his cock while sucking on his tip. You smiled around Changbin's cock as You heard groans behind you. You continued to take changbin whole cock in your mouth , saliva running down the sides of your mouth as changbin started to fuck your throat.

“Fuck baby, I can’t take it, I’m going fucking blow.” Changbin groan

You continued to deep throat Changbin’s cock until he came down your throat. You made sure you swallowed everything he gave you with a smile. As you get up , you decide to start stripping. You made sure you put on a show for the boys. Once all your clothes were off, you started sinking down on Changbin’s cock. The stretch felt so good. You didn’t have time for being prepped.

“Fuck look at her, that pussy is just sucking binnie up.”

“Baby, I’m so hard.”

“Baby I need that pretty pussy.”

You sank down on Changbin and wasted no time bouncing on Changbin's . Changbin gripped your ass and helped you bounce on his cock. It felt so good but you didn’t want to cum just yet, you have seven cocks to go. You kept bouncing until you felt Changbin tighten his grip on your ass.

“Baby , I’m going to cum fuck.” Changbin whined

You started bouncing faster until you and changbin came undone , he filled up your hole so well.

“Fuck I need a turn.”

You got up off Changbin and turned around to see if the boys had broken any of your rules. None of them broke your rules so you knew they wouldn’t take the chance to not fuck you for a month.

“Han, I want you next.” You said

Han got up and started stripping , he was eager to have his fill of you or you filled up of him.

“How do you want me babe?” You asked

“I want you to ride me like changbin please baby.”

“Anything for you , love. Now lay down.”

You had Han lay on the floor because Changbin was still fucked on the chair. Han looked utterly pretty on the carpet but you were going to have him drooling after you were done with him. You were going to give the rest of them head , they didn’t deserve it today. They were lucky enough for you to fuck them.

You grabbed Han’s cock and started to stroke it. He started to whine so you just eased his suffering and sunk down on his cock. The moan he let was just music to your ears. You got on your knees and started to lift yourself up and down on his cock. You quickened your pace and not even long after, you and Han were cumming together.

“Fuck baby”

You got up from Han, cum dripping out of you but you didn’t care. You were still hungry for cock.

“Felix I need you love”

“Sweetheart , please” Felix begged

Felix's voice always made you feel some type of way and that feeling somehow always made its way down south.

You knew how Felix loved to have you. You grabbed a pillow off the couch and laid on your back. Legs wide and open for Felix. By this point , everyone were stripped down to nothing so it was easier for Felix just to fit between your legs and just start fucking you.

“Shit baby, you already had three cocks in you, how are you still so tight?” Felix groaned

You threw your head back and moaned, enjoying this time on your back cause you still had five delicious cocks to go and they just knew how to fuck you. You came and Felix followed. Fuck this was a lot but you never backed now.

You looked at Seungmin next, oh you were so ready for your puppy. Felix got up off you so Seungmin can fill your hole up with his cock. Seungmin just started to fuck you, he grabbed onto your jumping boobs and started groping them aggressively

“You think you can try to punish me ? Bark for me.”

It looks like he made you his puppy for today.

“Mong , Mong” you moaned put

He was quickening his pace , you came after he finally finished in your hole.

Fourth cock down, four more to go. You had mixed cum stuffed in your hole , running down your legs onto the carpet. This carpet might need to be replaced.

Now you are ready for your pretty hyunjinnie and his long cock. You turned over so you could be faced down, ass up. Hyunjin sank down to his knees and started to knead the flesh of your ass, his finger running over your leaking hole. He was observing.

“So much cum baby, you ready for mine?”

“Yes love.”

Then Hyunjin just stuffed his cock into you without warning , it felt so much different from behind you , Hyunjin was pounding into you and it felt so good fuck. He was hitting the sweet spot in you that made your toes curl.

“Fuckkk Hyunjin.” You moaned as you came, you were so sensitive at this point.

Hyunjin continued to fuck you until he was cumming in your hole. You were left trying to catch your breath.

Five down , three to go.

It was now the maknae’s turn to have you.

“Baby you ok, you’re not too far gone right?” He smiled at you

“If not , I need to hold on to the couch.” He said that with so much dominance. Your innie always seemed to disappear when it was time to fuck you. You got up on shaky legs and held onto the couch. Jeongin rubbed the small of your back as he eased his way into your fucked out hole.

“Fuck, still so tight”

Jeongin snapped his hips into yours at a pace you couldn’t keep up so you just stood there taking it. Jeongin had power , the way he was blowing your back out was utterly so much that you came without even knowing. By this point you were fucked out of your mind , just letting Jeongin fill you up.

Fuck , two more and these were by far the worst cause you knew your pussy was going to be destroyed.

Someone had pulled you down to the floor on your knees and that someone was Minho. He loved to fuck you from behind because he loved to see your ass.

“Just sit here and take it jagi.”

Then you were stuffed full of Minho , you moaned. He set a brutal pace as he grabbed the back of your neck and forced you into a deeper arch. He was ramming his hips into you while keeping you in place.

“I’m so sorry for earlier jagi , please forgive”

Minho was hitting that spot that made your insides tingle , fuck your were about to cum so hard. Minho continued to abuse your hole and you eventually creamed his cock. Minho continued until he stuffed you full.

You were wrecked , cum leaking out of you , hair everywhere but you weren’t done.

“Chris, I need you.”

“You sure baby? You already taken a lot-”

“ I’m sure come on and be the last to stuff me.”

Chris put you on your back with your legs pushed up by your head. Chris loved the matting press. Chris made sure you were comfortable before pushing his big cock into your worn out pussy.

“Fuck , Chris.”

Chris started to put his weight on you and drilled his hips into yours. The sound that was echoing through the living room was sinful , his balls were hitting your ass every time he thrusted into you. Chris was set on making you cum first and hard. Chris quickened his pace until you were babbling. He was hitting your cervix so good that it made you so stupid his cock. It was too much.

“Yes baby girl , take it.”

“Too much, I can’t take it.”

“You can and you will baby girl.”

With that you came on Chris’s come , your juices and the mixed cum running down his balls. Chris came and pulled out. Your legs were shaking and you were fucked out. All you wanted now was sleep. One of the boys picked you up and started taking you to the bathroom so you could pee.

Once you were clean , you were laid in bed and cuddled with your lovers.

[writhyv]

⋆｡°✩ your domestic boyfriend ignored you

fairy of shampoo | park jongseong x male!reader

pairing: jay x male!reader genre: fluff (itz not zat zeep) word count: 1.8k notes: soft jay hours

Lately, something has been bothering you.

"Ugh..." You scrunched your forehead as you sat in your corner of the office, lost in your thoughts. Your mind was full of worries, and you couldn’t shake off the confusing feelings that weighed on your heart.

"What's wrong with him?" One of your co-workers passed by your desk, curious about your mood.

"He's just thinking too much," your quirky office friend jumped in, excited for some office gossip.

"About what?"

"He'll be fine. He’s just being dramatic," your other co-worker said, leaning back in his chair. "He’s been like this since he got here—"

"I'm not being dramatic!" You protested, your voice rising a bit.

"See?" Your co-worker pointed at you with a teasing look.

Frustration filled you, and you scratched your head quickly, feeling stuck with this problem. It wasn’t just any small issue; it felt really important.

"Totally," your quirky friend agreed, tapping her pen on your desk playfully. "Veins popping, eyes turning red... He’s really in his head."

"But it’s Jay!" You whined, spinning your office chair around.

Your colleagues groaned collectively at the mention of your boyfriend’s name. Of course, it had to do with your sweet love life.

"Let me guess, he wanted to see that new musical movie?" Your laid-back co-worker chimed in without missing a beat. You turned to him and nodded eagerly.

"Yes! Yes!" You stomped your feet like a child. "But now I feel like I messed up!"

"It’s not the end of the world if you don’t go to the movies. The film will still be there," he pointed out, trying to be practical.

"But still! He really wanted to take me out since this is all the time he has before going back to his gigs!" You squeezed your face in frustration. "And this morning, he just ignored me."

A chorus of mock gasps filled the air.

"Come on!"

"You do realize he’s still a person, right? He probably didn’t notice he was ignoring you," your co-worker patted your back, trying to comfort you.

"But..."

"But?"

"He didn’t give me cuddles... I miss his cuddles when he’s all tired and sleepy..."

Your quirky friend let out a dramatic sigh, moving closer to you.

"You know what you should do?" she suggested, her eyes sparkling with ideas. "Surprise him tonight."

You looked at her, confused. "With what?"

"You know."

"Huh?"

Your other co-worker facepalmed at her suggestion, while you raised an eyebrow in realization.

"It’s not that easy!"

"What? You said he gives in easily!" Your friend insisted, pushing the idea.

"You really need to stop sharing so much about your boyfriend at work," your laid-back co-worker sighed, shaking his head.

"But he can’t be that down right now! He hates being upset..."

"Okay, I’ve heard enough," your closest co-worker stood up and walked away from the conversation.

Your quirky friend leaned in closer, her expression softening. "Just try to stay calm and talk to him before the day ends," she said sincerely. "I’m sure he’s not mad."

You thought about her words. Even though Jay could get mad at his friends, he had never gotten mad at you, even during playful teasing.

"I hope so..." You rubbed your forehead, trying to ease your stress.

"It’s just not like him to ignore me..." You mumbled, feeling down.

"Oh come on, you sometimes forget to text him back when you’re here," your friend reminded you.

You looked at her, realization hitting you. "Oh my god... I'm a hypocrite, aren’t I?" You sighed, feeling embarrassed, but your quirky friend just laughed.

"Don’t worry," she said, trying to cheer you up. "He still loves you, I’m sure."

As the long workday finally ended, you packed your things and got ready to head down the elevator. With your phone in hand, you scrolled through your contacts, searching for that one sweet photo of your boyfriend.

I should call him like I usually do, you thought. Maybe he’ll be okay and reply like nothing happened.

With a light tap, you dialed Jay's number, his nickname decorated with two hearts on your screen. You gazed at the cute photo you took of him on one of your dates. His smile was unforgettable.

"Hello?" He answered, his voice warm and familiar.

"Hi, honey..." You said softly.

"Hi? What's up?"

".... I'm sorry." You mentally kicked yourself as you said those words. You were supposed to hold back, but it just slipped out.

"You're cutting in and out..." He tried to speak clearly, but the call was breaking up. All you could hear were garbled sounds like "ksher ksher" and "zzh zzhh."

"Hello? Honey? You’re breaking up—"

"Let me call you later." He hung up before you could check if the problem was on your end. You sighed, watching the call end, the wallpaper of him smiling back at you.

So you just have this saved pic as your wallpaper, huh? WHIPPED.

All you could think about was how much you loved this man.

As you let out another heavy sigh, you stepped out of the elevator, fixing your hair and scarf as you walked outside.

As you passed through the rotating doors, you noticed a crowd gathering outside your office building. People were piling up, excitement buzzing in the air. You felt the urge to see what was happening.

"They're definitely a band. I saw them on TV."

A band? Right outside your office building was a plaza, a usual spot for performances. But the crowd seemed too big for it to be just any local act.

"Are they famous?"

"Are you kidding? They're Enhypen! They were on that band show..."

You turned sharply to one of the people trying to see what was going on. "Enhypen? They’re here?"

"I think so? It’s just a random plaza, though. Could be cover artists."

"No, it’s them! I saw Jake and Sunghoon there!"

They’re just outside?!

"Hey, you over there!" A familiar voice boomed through the speakers, full of energy. It was a voice you knew well, one that made your heart race.

Slowly, you turned your head as other people stared at you.

"This one's for you."

Park. Jongseong. In the flesh. Pointing his damn finger right through your heart.

He adjusted the microphone on the shaky stand, his charm lighting up the crowd. Even if the equipment wasn’t the best, he looked amazing, holding the mic like it was meant for him. He began to sing your favorite song—a sweet, romantic tune.

Cheers erupted as he finished, applause ringing out from everyone, including your co-workers, who cheered for him and his bandmates.

As snow started to fall gently around you, Jay rushed toward you, concern on his face as he adjusted your scarf.

"You’re shivering," he said, worry in his voice. But all you could do was look at this wonderful man you called yours.

"It’s... fine," you replied, holding his hand. He paused, looking down at your joined hands before meeting your gaze.

In that moment, everything felt perfect as snowflakes floated around you. His eyes sparkled, reflecting the light and warmth of the moment.

You couldn’t hold back any longer.

"I'm sorry!" you both blurted out at the same time, creating a funny mix of apologies.

"Wha-what?"

"I'm sorry, why are you sorry?"

"Wait, I'm sorry. What are you trying to—"

You both laughed, the tension fading away. Jay still looked a bit confused, which only made it more charming.

"I said I'm sorry. I felt like I hurt your feelings when you wanted to watch a movie with me during your free time..." You held his hands tightly, feeling sincere.

Jay tilted his head, a smile spreading across his face. "No way! I totally get it, honey." He pinched your cheek playfully. "It’s not like I’m going far away."

"But you wanted more time with me."

"I know." Jay’s smile was real, a sign of understanding. "I thought you were mad at me for being too needy."

"What?" You exclaimed, your voice rising in surprise.

"Slow down."

"I would never! NEVER!" You declared firmly. "If anything, I want to always be close to you! I like the clingy you!"

Jay couldn’t help but laugh, and you hugged him tightly, feeling the warmth between you. At that moment, he rested his head on your shoulder.

"I was worried for nothing," he whispered softly.

"Hey, that tickles!" You booped his nose playfully. "And same here. I thought you were ignoring me."

Jay looked at you with sincerity. "Sorry. I was just in my own head this morning. I didn’t mean to tune out."

You smiled back, brushing a stray hair from his face. "It’s okay. I understand now."

Taking one last look at him, you wrapped your arms around him again. "Don’t ever feel shy with me! We’ve been a couple for years! Come on!"

Jay chuckled at your words, a mix of affection and disbelief shining in his eyes. He often felt insecure whenever you seemed upset, worrying that he could do better. But in the end, you always calmed him down, reminding him that he was enough and that you accepted him just as he was.

You fixed your clothes, pulling away slightly from Jay’s embrace. "So, are we still going to see the movie?"

Jay’s smile grew wider, his eyes filled with joy. "It’s tonight. We won’t be late if we hurry."

"Yay!" You grabbed his face and kissed him quickly, catching him off guard. He blinked in surprise as you linked your arm through his, walking side by side toward the cinema.

Meanwhile, in the distance...

"Are you seeing that? He just left us!" Jake shouted, struggling to carry amplifiers toward the van as he watched you walk away with Jay.

"You're just jealous you don’t get to use anyone as an excuse to go out," Sunghoon replied dryly, packing up other gear. He wasn’t wrong, though.

"Shut it, man!" Jake scratched his head, feeling a bit embarrassed by that comment.

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[lesbianpegbar]

why are we sooooooo reactionary against women saying that they hate men. we are so quick to coddle every guy on this planet before we ask ourselves why women might feel and say that. “ugh i hate women who say they hate men men are so beautiful and wonderful don’t forget that” like do you guys go outside. do you know what it’s like to be a woman. maybe i say i hate men bc my entire life i’ve been sexualized and harassed and talked over and ogled and infantilized and followed and yelled at and treated like a lesser human being. idk maybe that’s why. but sorry that’s mean i love men so much i’m kissing and holding all the kings out there so gently

[ticchina]

Top 3 favourite Kinn Porsche scenes?

3 times they had sex

[girlgen1us]

feel so stupidly horribly miserably painfully Bad . Lol

[lov3notts]

"you what?"

ᥫ᭡Theodore Nott x F!Readerᥫ᭡

summary: accidentally drinking a lust potion, you asked your best friend Theo for help.

warning: smut, cursing, unprotected sex, size kink maybe? cream pie.

word count: 2.4k

18+only; minors don’t interact

“You what?” Theo’s eyes widened, you wanted him to do what? He wasn’t sure if this was a dream or not but if it was he didn’t want to wake up

Earlier that day , you had accidentally drank a lust potion. 

How, you might ask?

Well the boys (Enzo/ Mattheo) thought it would be funny to prank Draco by giving him a lust potion as payback for pranking them earlier that week

At lunch the 2 boys were there first, taking their usual spots they slip the potion to a bottle of Draco's favorite drink and placing it on the spot were Draco usually sits

One by one the group gets to the table ,leaving you and Draco left. 

Soon both of you walk in, but you seem to be in a rush

“Sorry guys I can’t stay and chat, I have to get back to studying, i’m just here to get some food to eat while studying” grabbing random things and the only drink you see left, you quickly stuff it in your purse

“Wait y/n!” Enzo saying frantically, giving Matt a worried look

You look up at Enzo as you start to zip up your bag. “Yeah?” 

“We were actually saving that for Draco, um- were having practice later and that’s his favorite”

“Omg I’m so sorry! Here-“ as your opening you bag Draco comes behind you , going to sit down 

“I actually got my own drink, y/n can have it” Dracos says while pulling out his drink from his bag,

Enzo’s and Mattheos’s eye widen.

“I- um, but we got it for you” Matt says with a bit of a shaky voice 

“Its fine, I don’t need it” as he waves his drink showing the 2 boys

“But-“ 

“Omg thank you Draco, I really have to go now guys see you later” you say as you're walking away before the boys have a chance to take away the drink.

Both Enzo and Matt try to call you back but you’re already gone, both freaking out inside. praying you don't find out what they did.

While studying in your dorm you couldn’t focus for more than 10 seconds. Thinking you might just be tired from all the studying you took a break. Getting up from your desk you head towards your bed. Laying in your bed you start to space out

At first it was all innocent thoughts, school, weekend plans but then they started to shift The only thing you could think of was pleasure. Thinking of a certain boy made your cunt throb, making your body hot

Your hand slowly creeps down to your shorts. Slowly playing with yourself imagining it was Theo’s fingers rubbing circles on your clit.

“Oh god Theo” you moaned 

but no matter how good it felt you couldn’t reach your climax. You were so needy and nothing was working. The rising heat from your body only made things more uncomfortable.

“God what is wrong with me, and why is it so hot” getting up from your bed you walk towards your desk, trying to find your drink, in hopes of it cooling you down . You picked up the bottle and before you can finish the drink you saw something written on the bottom of the bottle

“Payback- Enzo and Mattheo”

Your eyes widened with confusion. 

What?

Then you remembered how the drink was meant for Draco. 

everything started to make sense

This is why you were like this

You couldn’t even be mad at them, Your mind was clouded with the urge to get any satisfaction you could. all you wanted was any sort of pleasure but nothing was good enough. it started to get painful and a sudden thought popped in your head. Theo

he’d help right? He was really the only one you can go to. 

Your heart was racing at just the thought of Theo agreeing to help you out, being best friends all these years you had developed a crush on him, of course you never acted on it because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship 

Pacing back and forth your room, you finally decide to ask him for help. Nervously picking up your phone, you open Theo’s contact.

“Theo?”

“Hey Bella, what’s up?”

The nickname itself making you get butterflies.

 “Um- I need a favor, can you come over?”

“Of course, i'll be over in a few”

“Okay see you” hanging up the phone, your thoughts begin to consume you

What if he says no?

What if he laughs at your face and runs off

What if…

What if he says yes… 

Before you can continue, there was a knock on your door. That must be him. Slowly walking to your door, palms sweaty, you turn your door knob

“Hey, what did you need help with?” Theo goes in to give you a hug

Hugging him back, your nose is infused with his cologne  

God why does he always smell so good

He lets go and looks at you closely, he moves a strain of hair behind your ear to have a better look at you. His eyebrows frown, noticing your face is flustered and incredibly warm.

“Are you okay? Your face is warm” resting his hand on your cheek

“Yeah, um actually funny story-“ Quickly leading him to sit on the edge of your bed, holding his hands as you begin to explain

“Please just hear me out. I know it's odd ,but I have no one to go to,- just please-“ falling to your knees, begging.

“Hey hey, breathe. You know I'm here if you need anything. Now tell me, what’s up?” Theo's eyes looking at you with worry.

“Please I- I need you to fuck me” you blur out

That was the last thing Theo thought would come out of your mouth. 

You wanted him to what???

He was speechless, absolutely at a loss of words. jaw wide open

“Please, I'm sorry for asking you for this, I know it’s a lot and we’re best friends. But please I can’t take it anymore. I accidentally drank something that wasn’t meant to me and it had this effect on me. I’ve tried everything but nothing is working. I need your help please” your face heating up from embarrassment . I mean you only ever had the biggest crush on your best friend for years, but what you didn’t know was that so did Theo.

Theo had dreamt of the day he got to be with you.

How’d he spend hours pleasuring himself of the thought of you under him, on top of him and how good you’d take him in your mouth. God, was he hard the second you asked him to help you out.

How could he say no? 

Without another thought he picked you up from the floor. Sitting down back on your bed while you straddled his lap.

Looking into your eyes, moving a piece of your hair behind your ear, resting his hand on your cheek, he leaded in.  

Your soft lips on his, both whimpering into the intense kiss. Licking your bottom lip asking for access. You gladly gave it to him. 

Slowly rocking your hips on his clothed boner, trying to find any friction to satisfy you.

Slowly laying you down your bed, taking off your clothes until you were left in nothing but your matching black lace set. 

“Don’t worry Bella, i’ll take good care of you” Theo whispers as he starts to leave a trail of kisses down your body

“Theo please~” you pleaded, needing to feel something, anything.

“poor thing, you’ve must of been so uncomfortable for such a long time, don’t worry i’m here now”

He stopped to look at your lying body, face all flustered, messy hair. 

“God you’re so beautiful” he wasn’t lying, he’d always thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Always jealous of your ex boyfriends because they got to be with you. But now it was his turn and he was going to give you the best you’d ever gotten, he was going to ruin every other guy you’ve been with. 

Slowly pulling your panties off, dick throbbing at the sight of your wet glistening pussy. Trying to ignore his throbbing cock and focus on you, he gives you a sweet smile. 

“You're soaking wet, so ready for me” leaving little kisses around your pussy, teasing. finally burying his face between your legs, painfully slow licks as he takes it in, savoring every moment. 

As soon as you felt his tongue, you became a whimpering mess.  

“Theo~ oh my god yes” moving your hand to his hair, giving it a little tug. 

Theo couldn’t hold it in anymore, he started to devour you. eating you out as if he’d never get this opportunity ever again

“You taste so fucken good” he groaned against your dripping core. The vibrations sending you waves of pleasure 

“More please, Theo! oh my god~” it felt so good, his tongue making you feel things you’ve never felt before with anyone else

“So polite, even when your so needy” Theo smirked as he sees how much of a mess you were for him

He starts so pump one of his fingering into you while eating you out. Soon enough you felt the feeling you were craving for

“M-so close, fuck Theo i’m so close”

He stops what he’s doing, getting up grasping on his zipper and undoing the button. Tugging his jeans and boxers off. 

“Theo? Why’d you stop? I was so close” you looked at him with teary eyes. you were so close, god why did he stop

“Sorry princess, I wanna be in you, want you cum on my cock” godddd was he hot

His cock strung out his pants hitting his stomach , you were lost for words. In no world was Theodore Nott small, he was big- huge even. you’ve never taken anything close to his size.

Theo noticed your starring

“Like what you see?” A smile tugged the corner of his lips

“Don’t worry you can take it, I know you can”

You nodded at his works 

He lined himself up to your pussy, tracing himself up and down, teasing you.

“You have no idea how long i've been wanting to do this for” 

“Fuck ,Theo please, please fuck me” you whined 

“Anything for you, love”

he slowly pushed himself into you. You both let out a loud moan. 

“fuck, your so tight” Theo was out of breath.

You felt so good around him that he never wanted this moment to end.

“fuck Theo your big” you said panting 

“You think you can take more?”

More???

“There’s more??” Looking at Theo with a disbelief face

He chuckled “i’m only have way”

“Don’t worry you can handle it, can’t you baby?”

“Mhm- yes yes, I can take it”

Pushing the reset of himself into you. bottoming you out. heavily breathing, getting comfortable with the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“good girl ,You’re doing so well for me, are you ready?”

“Yes! fuck-please move, please” you begged

Brining your legs above his shoulders and laying them there. Gripping your ankles to keep you steady as he started to thrust into you. Both a moaning mess

“Fuck fuck fuckkk, Theo-” your eyes roll back, arching your back.

“You feel so good Bella, oh god-“ panting 

“Your squeezing me tight- fuck”

One of his hands moving to your waist. fucking you harder now, unable to stop. His cock was so fucking good, hitting your g-spot every time.

“Fuck Theo just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop please!” Your hands holding onto your bed sheets as he rocks his hips.

“You like that huh? You like it when your best friend is pounding into you, god you look so beautiful, taking all of me like a good girl” he groans while leaving kisses on your ankle.

Your walls clenching at his words

He groaned again as he felt your cunt throb at his praise. 

“Oh you like being called a good girl don’t you?” letting go of your ankle to grip your jaw to make you look at him.

“Who's a good girl are you?” Theo says as he speeds up his thrusts

Looking at him with half lidded eyes “Yours, all yours!!~“ you moan

“That’s right all mine, no one can ever make you feel this good, isn’t that right love?”

 “Mhm only you, ah~ i'm so close”

“Cum for me baby, come all over my cock”

You were absolute bliss, god you’ve never seen fucked this good, yeah you’ve had other hookups but nothing can compared to this, to Theo

You moaned loudly, shutting your eyes as you reached your orgasm “im- im cumming!!” Your body shaking from the overwhelming feeling

The way your walls clenched from cumming made Theo on the verge of spilling. He continues to thrust into you through your first orgasm. He didn’t expect you make such a mess all over his dick, your cum spilling out of you as he thrusts into you

You felt Theo twitch inside of you, knowing he’s close you moved his hand from your waist to your breasts.

“Mmm so soft…” Theo whispered. leaning down, putting his tongue on your nipple, swirling it around. “Mmm Theo that feels good” throwing your head back from a little act. Theo was soon approaching his climax.  

“Fuckk- can I cum inside of you? please oh god I can’t hold it anymore, please? Fuck-” Theo begged as he tried to hold it in, waiting for you response 

“Yes!! fuck Theo cum inside me” you practically screamed as you felt you stomach tighten.

He let out a loud moan as he spilled his cum inside of you. You screamed as you felt his warm cum spilling in you, triggering your second orgasm.

Theo’s thrusts became sloppy, riding out both your highs. He pulled out and laid beside you. Dizzy and breathless, taking a moment to catch your breath.  Finally when you both got steady, you look up at Theo

“Thank you Theo, really”

“No need to thank me Bella, you can come to me for anything anytime” smiling at you.

crawling onto his lap you whispered into his ear “stay the night? I don’t think the drink has worn off just yet~”

This was going to be a long night for Theo.

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

a/n: Thank you for reading my first ever fic!! a special mention to @leona-hawthorne for being an angel and giving me feedback on my first rough draft. It helped a lot:)!! another honorable mention to @nottsangel!! Im that anon who mentioned writing their first story, hope you like it^-^ thank you both, your blogs have inspired me to start writing. xoxo

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

[mostly-imagines]

Motion Sickness

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason makes you cry after a fight

warnings: angst with comfort

“Jason—”

He waves you off immediately, “No, I’m not your problem, okay?”

Your arms drop, “You’re not a problem at all, that’s not what I’m saying—”

“Then what are you saying?” he challenges. 

You almost bite your tongue but then decide against it, “I’m saying you’re being an asshole right now just because I tried to help.”

He’s angry and you’re someplace in between desperate and tired, but you push on, hoping you’ll be able to solve this without an extended argument. To little avail though, apparently. 

A tense exhale from him, “I don’t need your help, I don’t know how I can make it any clearer.”

“It’s not about needing it—”

“No, it’s about wanting it. I don’t want your fucking help,” he snaps. “I’m grown, I can handle my problems myself.”

You drop your hands to your sides, “Then what am I doing here, Jason?”

“I don’t know!” You can literally see the regret sweep over his face but he lets the moment consume him and the words linger anyways. 

You know he doesn’t always think before he talks, especially when he’s mad. You’ve seen it plenty when he’s fighting with his family. This is the first time it’s shown up with you though, and while you know it’s not coming from a place of genuinity—it still really fucking stung. 

Far from being in your control, tears slip out, more at his tone than his words, and you remove your gaze in favor of the linoleum tiles. He says nothing as you start to cry, which only makes the heat of the moment worsen. 

“Okay,” You take a deep breath, pursing your lips. “You need to go away.”

There’s a long, hard moment of silence, but ultimately he doesn’t fight you on it, only exhales harshly and slams the door on his way out.

The resulting reverberation of the apartment has your shoulders shaking, tears falling onto your shirt.  

You and Jason don’t fight often but when you do it’s usually about insecurities and fears coming forward. He’d been having a bad night to start with and all you wanted to do was make him feel better but he wasn’t willing to talk to you or let you do anything for him. He gets selfishly selfless like that, but you know why.

You know him, in and out. You could’ve anticipated this—you should’ve. You should’ve approached the topic more sensitively. And it’s not his fault, his life has taught him that it’s safer to believe that other people don’t have his best interest. You know that. 

Yeah, you know him in and out, but he knows you in and out, too. He knows you’ve shown him nothing but kindness and generosity since the day you met and you’ve reinforced a thousand times how safe you are for him. But if he still can’t trust you to care about him, then what are you doing here?

You let yourself fall back onto the arm of the couch, huffing in defeat. 

It’s nearing two in the morning when Dick awakens, the bandages across his abdomen digging into his skin uncomfortably. He sits up, bedsheet pooling around his waist. The ache of the bruising pushes him towards his old bedroom door before he’s even fully coherent, narrowly missing shouldering the door frame as he passes through.

He’s still half asleep as he thumps down the staircase, cold hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He’s so out of it in his blind search for painkillers, that he nearly misses the large shadowed figure huddled up on the couch.

Dick stills, blinking warily.

“What’re you doing here?”

His younger brother says nothing, only continues to stew in the shadows, staring at the rug.

As his eyes adjust, Dick takes in his appearance: messy hair, tired eyes, only clad in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

He rubs his eyes, approaching with measured steps, “What happened?”

Jason remains silent for a long minute before grunting out, “Got in a fight.”

Dick nods slowly, shuffling forward a little more to sit on the far end of the couch. 

“What’d you do?”

Jason doesn’t have it in him to comment on how his brother immediately knew he was the issue. It just makes the entire thing hurt even worse. Instead, he tells the truth. 

“Be myself.”

Dick says nothing, 

When the silence persists, Jason elaborates, even though it’s the last thing he wants to admit to.

“I made her cry,” he says, voice below even a whisper. He hates it and he hates himself for leaving you when he knew he’d hurt you.

Dick nods, not saying anything. He’s definitely been there before, though he’s not nearly as volatile as Jason can be, so he can imagine how this likely played out. In any case, Jason has never responded well to being pushed to talk about his feelings so Dick lets him get there in his own time.

He’s half expecting to end up with no results at all, but Jason pipes up after a minute, voice broken.

“I don’t know what she wants me to do,” he rasps.

Dick takes a deep breath, adjusting his posture. “When girls are mad you give them space but when they’re sad you definitely don’t. Is she sad or mad?”

Jason exhales desperately.

“Both, I think.”

Dick nods, understanding.

“Then go home.”

Jason shakes his head, defeated. “She told me to leave. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“What did you say?”

He huffs, not wanting to bring the memory back up. “I basically told her to fuck off.”

“Yeah,” Dick drawls. “I wouldn’t let that simmer.”

Jason’s head snaps over to him. “She’ll break up with me?”

“No, I don’t—” Dick pauses, thinking over his words. “It’ll be fine. Just go home.”

Despite taking the long route on the way to the manor, Jason sped back home on his bike, now unwilling to leave you alone for another second longer than he had to. 

He creeps through the front door of your apartment, proud and only a little hurt that you’d remembered to lock it. 

The apartment’s mostly quiet, nothing but a lamp lighting up the front half. He can hear the shower running from where he stands, the waterfall noise awfully muffled from behind the closed bathroom door.

He bolts the door behind him, pushing forward towards the hallway. He approaches the bathroom door, noticing how there’s no light flooding out from underneath.

“Baby?” Jason calls it out quietly, like he’s scared to commit to alerting you of his presence.

He hears no response, but he knows you heard him. He knows you heard him in the same way that he knows you’re sitting on the shower floor, curled in on yourself under the sensory relief that the pouring water brings. He doesn’t know how, he just does.

So he leans against the door, listening closely, and calls out again, “Can I come in?”

There’s a solid ten seconds of silence before you respond, just barely audible over the cascade of water.

“Not right now.”

Your volume has him wincing, saddened and embarrassed that he’s the one that made you feel like this.

He reluctantly walks back to the bedroom with heavy shoulders, thudding his weight down on the mattress. He sits half folded over himself for the next ten minutes, thinking only of you, sitting alone in the shower with your thoughts.

He perks up considerably when he hears the water shut off, and after several long minutes, you emerge from the bathroom, towel wrapped around your middle.

He stands up when you enter the bedroom, hands stiff and awkward at his sides. You barely look at him, having trouble willing yourself to do more than glance. 

Your eyes fall downward, your lips pursing. You instinctually move to clutching the towel tighter around you, more than anything because you don’t know what to do with your hands. 

It makes his heart break to see you so out of comfort around him—because of him—so he gives you the benefit of privacy, turning around so you can get dressed. It kills him to do it, makes him feel like he’s just some stranger in your life rather than him. But he supposes that he deserves to feel like that right now. 

Whether or not you wanted him to turn around goes unsaid, he can only hear the quiet shuffling of you putting clothes on.

He waits until the movement stops, after he hears the squeak of the bed springs and the faint sound of the sheets being pulled up.

He turns around again with a silent sigh, taking in the sight of you laying in bed, back turned to him.  

He approaches slowly, stopping just before his knees hit the mattress. He notices quickly that the t-shirt you’d chosen was one of your own. He frowns.  

“Sweetheart. Can I touch you?” His voice is soft and low, like he’s trying to coax you back out to him.

It takes a long few moments, but you nod.

He sits down on the bed, still hesitant to go through with it.

“Will you turn over?”

An even longer pause and you’re flipping over to face him. You don’t make eye contact, only look blankly past him. Your blinks are heavy, and even in the dark, he can see that your eyes are still bloodshot. 

He brushes your hair back, his fingers feather-light against you, like he’s scared to touch you too harshly. Like he’s touching porcelain.

He lets you hold the silence for a while, reasoning with himself that you’ll talk when you’re ready.

You let it go on longer than he’d hoped, past the point of him knowing what to do with it. He’d hoped you’d yell at him. He can take that, he knows he can. He can see plainly that you’re thinking deeply and wants more than anything for you to say it, scream it if you have to. 

He knows he deserves it and he frankly would take anything over the silence. But then again, he doesn’t deserve the reprieve, does he? No, but he’s not strong enough to deny himself the chance to hear your voice.

“Say it,” he urges. “Please.”

Your fingers tap against the bed sheets for a moment before you sit up, almost defeated. 

You face him, taking a breath and relenting. “I don’t like that you said that to me.”

He nods, brow deep. “Me neither.”

Your shoulders sag at that, and you feel stuck in the moment. You feel guilty too but you don’t know if you should. He didn’t mean it, you know that, and they weren’t his words, really. But the snap of his voice when he’d said it and the look on his face—it made you feel terrible. It still does.

You look awkwardly to the left, feeling heavily spectated by him and so hyper-conscious of all of your movements. The downturn of your lips gives way to burning in your eyes and before you can do anything about it, tears are spilling out. 

Jason sees it immediately, his head lulling helplessly. 

“Oh, baby. Please don’t cry, please.”

But that only makes it worse, the tears falling faster and heavier at his soft tone.

He forgoes asking permission and pulls you directly into his chest, a firm hand on the back of your head. It’s what you needed though, to be close to him right now.

“I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry, baby—” he murmurs against your hair, pressing a rough kiss as he holds you tighter.

You shake your head, sniffling. “It’s okay, Jay.”

“No, it’s not.”

That sentiment lingers for several minutes, as he holds you cheek to chest and rubs soothing patterns into your hair.

It’s not long before you’re able to fully relax against him, his touch feeling nothing short of therapeutic. Your breathing eventually levels out back to baseline and your thoughts start to find peace amongst themselves.

When you’re ready, you sit back from him, letting him see your face again.                    

He visibly winces as he scans over the tears on your cheeks, how they’re starting to stain.

You’re still upset, a little, but not nearly as much as you’re sure your face is conveying. 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.

He shakes his head, “If I ever say something like that to you again, hit me. I’m serious.”

You drop your hand onto your lap, tilting your head at him with a serious look. “I’m not going to hit you—”

“Then break up with me. Don’t ever let somebody talk to you like that, especially not me.”

His voice is hard and you can tell the impact of his words have every bit of weight intended.

Your mouth closes and you waver unsure of where to go with that. Your gaze falls down to where your hands lie discarded on your lap and there’s a palpable shift to the air in the room.

“Hey.” He pushes your chin up to make you look at him, “Listen to me. You’re the love of my life. You hear me? I’m supposed to take care of you, make you happy. I don’t…I can’t talk to you like that. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Your eyes flicker back and forth across each others and you can see the genuine sincerity etched plainly across his face.

He processes the comprehension across your own before his jaw tenses for a moment and he adds, “Nobody’s gonna talk to you like that, much less me. Yes?” 

You start to nod slowly and he mirrors you until he’s convinced of your belief in the statement. 

He rubs calm circles into your thighs as you both sit with the conversation, the light sounds of each others breaths the only sound heard. This silence isn’t the same as it was before though, it’s safer, more comfortable. It’s familiar, if not weighted.  

“I love you,” you tell him quietly.

His eyebrows furrow like his heart was just shattered. 

“I love you too, baby. So much.”

🦟 if you don't reblog things i'm actively sending bad vibes your way 🦟 and maybe also a plague

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four

The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.

It had been a long month.

Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.

But this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.

Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.

You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing

You weren’t stupid.

You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.

You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.

But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.

"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.

You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.

“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.

What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.

“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.

“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”

You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.

“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.

You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.

And then you heard hers. No fucking way.

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.

She was there, with him.

You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.

There they were.

She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

You froze.

He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.

You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?

Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.

It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.

That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.

After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?

Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.

What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.

But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.

Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.

“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.

Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"

You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”

He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”

You hated saying her name.

Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.

Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.

“Did everyone fucking know?”

Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”

Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.

You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”

He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”

But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.

With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.

Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”

That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.

You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.

You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.

He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.

The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.

A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.

How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?

Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?

All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."

You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.

But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.

And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?

But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.

Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.

You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.

Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.

You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.

"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."

The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.

But then…

You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.

Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.

You hadn’t had your period in… so long.

Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.

You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."

How could you not have noticed?

Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"

You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.

You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.

“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.

He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.

Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.

"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.

You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”

He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.

You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."

The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.

Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.

You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.

Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.

You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.

“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”

“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.

You just needed to get out of here.

“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”

His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”

Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.

And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.

Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.

While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.

You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.

“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.

You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.

“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.

You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.

The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.

You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.

The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.

You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.

The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?

You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.

You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.

You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.

You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.

Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?

Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?

It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.

You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.

The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.

You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.

This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.

You were tired.

Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.

Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.

Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.

Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.

All of this would go away.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb

@rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2 @starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols

@icaqttt

[kitten4sannie]

antithesis

pairing: peter parker/venom! yunho x gf! reader

genre: spider man au, smut

summary: your boyfriend is going through a phase.

w.c: 3.3k (porn with a microscopic amount of plot)

warnings: dom! yunho, sub! reader, venom should have his own warning bc bro is NASTYY (so is yuyu 🤝🏻), partial mind manipulation? on yunho’s part? bc venom is in his head? idk, praise/degradation, pet names/name calling, teasing, fingering, hand kink….,, SIZE KINK., manhandling, pussy eating, tongue kink, raw feral sex (doggy + missionary), bro has a monster cock, also monster fucking!! bc venom takes over <3, cum eating, breeding kink, bulge kink, dacryphilia, mind break, record breaking creampie

a/n: listen …….i LOVE venom, the things i would let venom do to me would set humanity back at least fifty years. NOW VENOM YUNHO ON THE OTHER HAND,, oh boy. boyyyy oh boy. i don’t think i have to explain myself when it comes to that combination bc this fic speaks for itself lol. are you curious now? why don’t you give it a peek then, hm? (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ and then lemme know what you thought of it pretty please? <3

song rec: new woman - lisa feat. rosalía (get it bc he’s a new man - bc of venom - 😼)

fictober 2024

“And just where have you been, Jeong Yunho?” you asked your boyfriend in a more teasing manner than anything, once he snuck in past the sliding glass door of the balcony, getting up from the couch you were waiting restlessly on. When he stood there silently just looking at you through the white eye shaped sections of his mask, you pouted, nervously wrapping a lock of hair around your finger. “Just be honest with me and I won’t be mad, okay?” 

Despite the lack of sleep, you were ready for him this time. He wasn’t about to casually sneak in or out of the house another night that week without you catching him. Usually, you wouldn’t have been concerned because you were used to him being gone when there was crime taking place or a super villain that needed to be brought to justice, but recently…your boyfriend was acting strange. He was starting to become moody and secretive, opting to brush you off when you asked him about it. Yunho had even taken up using substances in his free time, finding him drunk or high off his ass in the apartment when you got home from work. The final straw was when you came home one night to find him in the kitchen with freshly dyed hair and new piercings he had given himself, a few empty boxes of black hair dye and bloody safety pins laying haphazardly on the kitchen counter. 

Yunho took off his mask and rubbed at his eyes like he was tired, leaving a bit of smeared eyeliner underneath them, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his frayed jacket, the one that was slightly zipped just enough to cover his iconic red suit. 

“She knows about us,” said the annoying parasite that had just recently made a home inside him. “We should eat her.”

“No, I’m not doing that,” Yunho grumbled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

You walked up to him, gently putting a hand on his chest. “Yun, I just wanna know where you were at, that’s all. You know I respect your space,” you murmured, your pout growing slightly, your eyebrows upturned with concern. 

“She’s looking at us with those big round eyes again, Yunho,” Venom told his host, letting out a disgusting groan only he could hear. “It’s gonna make us hard. If we’re not going to eat her, let’s fuck her, at least.” 

“Mingi asked me to take care of some douchebags that had been causing trouble at that new club he works at. That’s all, baby,” Yunho replied softly, reaching down to press the back of his hand against your cheek, before cupping it. He noticed the teary look inside your doe eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” 

You nuzzled into his big warm hand, before reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck to hold your boyfriend close. “I’m fine…I’ve just been worried about you, Yun. You’ve been acting a bit…different.” 

“Let’s show her just how different we’ve become, Yunho,” Venom egged him on, knowing Yunho could feel just how much he wanted to break through the barrier of his host’s mind and take control. “She’ll love it.”

How could he possibly explain to you that he was always in a never ending battle with a frightening otherworldly parasite that had found its way inside of him? You would be so scared and disgusted, you’d probably never trust him again. He couldn’t risk losing you, not when you were his only anchor to the normal life he desperately craved, and the first person he’s ever felt this strongly about. 

“I’m just going through a phase, I think,” Yunho expressed wholeheartedly, resting his hands around your waist, his thumbs slightly pressing into your hip bones through your sleep shirt, feeling just how delicate you truly were. You were so small compared to him, practically swimming in one of his band t-shirts that you regularly wore to bed; you were so tiny and cute, and…”Malleable,” Venom finished. Yunho couldn’t tell if the parasite was influencing all of his thoughts or if he was just that perverted. 

“Do you wanna talk about it, Yun?” You pressed yourself closer to Yunho, feeling his large hands enclose around your small waist, making you feel a bit dizzy. When he shook his head, you tilted yours, wondering if what you felt pushing against your middle was exactly what you thought it was. “Or, do you want to take me to bed?” 

It had felt like forever since Yunho had touched you, kissed you even. You had almost forgotten what it was like to feel him inside you, filling you up over and over again until his love spilled out. Just the thought alone made your body begin to overheat. Was it wrong of you to take his simple answer at face value? Should you have pushed the issue, instead of letting him push you back into the wall of the hallway? You weren’t sure, but you were just grateful that your boyfriend still wanted you like this. 

“Did punching those guys at the club make you this horny?” you asked playfully, a sudden shiver of pleasure shooting up your spine when Yunho’s warm hands snaked up underneath your shirt and began groping at your tits.

“So horny,” Yunho joked back, a shaky exhale escaping his bobbing throat as he swallowed. 

 “Nnngh, I didn’t know fighting crime did it for you, Yun.” 

“Knowing I’m already getting your little pussy wet just from this is what’s doing it for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, having to practically lower himself to your height just to do so, able to clearly hear the breathless moan that left your lips. Yunho was already breathing hard, his mind swimming with constant racing thoughts that all pertained to his pretty little girlfriend and what he was going to do to you, squishing your soft flesh in between his slender fingers, using his thumbs to rub your hardening nipples in teasing circles. 

It had felt like eternity since Yunho had allowed himself to feel you underneath his touch, to even simply look at you with unbridled lust. He wanted to see all of you, witness the way you completely opened yourself up to him. It was driving him insane. Was it selfish of him to give into temptation when there was something else living inside him? Something that he knew was taking even more pleasure in this than he was? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he knew it was far too late to stop now. 

“Let us see her tits, Yunho, they feel so nice inside our hands, we need to see,” Venom demanded, desperately shaking the bars of his figurative cage. 

When Yunho tugged your shirt up and over your tits, your gasp became muffled, your eyes widening as he stuffed the hem of the shirt into your mouth. You were going to close your legs to keep your arousal from spilling down your thighs, but your eager boyfriend pushed his larger one in between them. 

“You’re so pretty, angel,” Yunho cooed softly, admiring the way you began to grind your cunt against his thigh, despite the sheepish expression you offered him, a bit of drool escaping the corner of his mouth from witnessing such a display of pure desperation. “Look at you go…rubbing yourself all over my thigh like a horny little slut.” 

“N-not a slut,” you whimpered softly, his insult causing a fresh wave of slick to leak out onto Yunho’s torn jeans. “Just need you, Yuyu.” 

“Her breeding hole needs to be trained to handle my size. Do it now,” Venom growled into Yunho’s mind, growing more and more demanding by the second, very aware that his host was starting to lose control of himself. 

“Yeah? How about this?” Yunho pulled your panties to the side so that he could watch as your greedy cunt swallowed up one of his long, bony fingers to the knuckle. “Is that enough, baby?” 

“I meant with your human sized cock, you insufferable prick,” Venom chided, simply not understanding the pleasurable benefits that prolonged foreplay could offer being the inhibited hothead that he was. 

Something about the way Yunho was taking his time with unraveling you, the way he was drinking in the sight of your bare body with pure lust inside his dilated eyes, all while he had one of his digits plunged inside you. It made you pulse and squeeze around it. “F-full.”  

“But I barely fit one finger inside you, sweetheart. What’ll happen if I put another?” Yunho suddenly tugged your borrowed t-shirt up and over your head, leaning in close to your face to catch the way your breath hitched as soon as he slipped another finger inside, curling them just enough to hit your sweet spot each time he finger-fucked you, earning a few whiny moans from his beloved girlfriend. “Oh, that’s right. You turn into my little sex toy, don’t you?” 

“Y-esss, Yuyu, just for you, fuck,” you cried out, hooking your arms around his neck to keep yourself from completely melting into the floor. 

“That’s a good girl,” he groaned into your ear, quickly stuffing his thick digits into you, unable to get Venom’s ungodly thoughts out of his head all the while, unable to keep himself from shoving a third finger into you, your slick walls pulsating around him. “You think you’re feeling full now…just wait till my cock’s inside you.”

Gasping, your nails dug into his back through his clothes. “Oh my god, Yunho, give it to me, please, please, please,” you whined breathlessly into his neck, trembling in his arms as overwhelming pleasure washed over you. “N-need your cock in me.” 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re already begging to be fucked like that. I almost forgot how much of a needy little slut you are when you need cock. You like the thought of me stretching out your little pussy that much, huh?” He smiled against your heated skin when you whimpered and nodded eagerly, not allowing you to witness the brief moment his eyes turned completely black. “I just might split you open.” 

You almost didn’t recognize your boyfriend when he tossed you onto your shared bed like you weighed close to nothing, and you certainly didn’t recognize him when he manipulated your limbs until you were laying with your head down against the mattress and your ass up in the air. Usually, he wanted to do missionary, so that he could kiss and look at you when you both came undone, but now, now he had you in a position that was apparently ‘perfect for breeding’, or at least, that’s what you thought you had heard him mumbling about from behind you. 

“Now’s the time, human. We must show her how great we are,” the alien reminded Yunho, delighted that his black parasitic poison was now making its way through his host’s veins, showing up from underneath his milky skin. It was changing him in ways that would most definitely benefit all three of you. 

Yunho squeezed his large hands into the sides of your ass and spread it open, hyper focused on your dripping cunt and how it struggled to accommodate his obscene size. “Poor baby’s so tiny, my little princess can barely take me inside her pretty cunt,” he sighed, pulling out just enough to send a few strands of spit onto his own cock, lubing up the base of it and pushing back in, a shiver of pleasure shooting up his spine as soon as he heard the broken cry that left your drooling mouth. “Looks like we’re going to have to break you in.” 

You felt like you were losing your mind. Your boyfriend had just barely bottomed out inside of you and you were already about to cream yourself. And, it might’ve been the cock drunk state you were in, but you swore to god that his dick got bigger. It felt like it was kissing your cervix already and he hadn’t even moved yet. Not to mention, it felt so hot inside you, and there was so much pre-cum coating your walls, you almost thought he had came prematurely, but he would’ve been asleep and snoring away already if he did. 

Yunho violently interrupted your train of thought by slamming his hips forward, letting out a deep, long groan as though he were experiencing euphoria. He grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back, tucking them together so that he could hold them both with one large hand, and quickly got to work, yanking you back onto his cock, using you like his own personal sex doll. “That’s fucking it, isn’t it, angel? You like that? You fucking like that?” 

“Yeah, fuck me,” you moaned back, realizing this ‘phase’ of Yunho’s was one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to the both of you, previously unaware that something this rough, something this animalistic, could feel as good as it did. 

“She’s ours, she’s ours, Yunho, fuck, we’re going to cum inside her,” Venom blissfully announced into Yunho’s head, fully taking over his host in that very instant, gracing Yunho with the symbiote’s much more endowed features. 

It was then that you let out a sudden gasp, the air that quickly filled your lungs leaving as a wavering moan of pleasure instead. It was almost as if Yunho’s cock had grown twice in size. You didn’t even know how that was possible, but you were too lost in the moment to question it. “So big, it’s so fucking big, Yunho, nnnngh, it’s gonna break me,” you exhaled, quickly pulling at the sheets once he gifted you partial physical autonomy, your eyes beginning to disappear underneath your eyelashes. 

“That’s right, pretty girl, and you’re going to keep taking it all, even after I’m done impregnating you,” Yunho agreed huskily, bending over you until his overheated body pressed into your shoulders and back, his long fingers curling around the softness of your hips. Just as his never ending seed spilled into you and made its way into your womb, Yunho dragged his long tongue up in between your straining shoulder blades and along your neck, savoring your flavor. He truly wanted to eat you, unable to stop drooling, but the annoying mortal he shared this body with wouldn’t let him. Venom figured he would have to settle for the next best thing.  

You didn’t even have a chance to finish shaking, let alone take a breath, before you were being lifted up and lowered back down onto your boyfriend’s face, your cunt fitting snugly between the curves of Yunho’s lips and nose. Just as he lapped at your extremely sensitive clit and slit, you couldn’t help but jolt away, his forearms suddenly locking tightly around your middle. “O-oh…!” 

“Hold still. Need a taste of this pretty cunt,” Yunho growled under his breath, angling his head back and opening his mouth wide enough so that he could explore the entirety of your used cunt, licking and drinking up the mixed arousal that spilled out of you to his heart’s content.

“Y-yunhooo,” you whined pathetically, reaching forward to hold onto the headboard to keep yourself from passing out from the pleasure that was overloading your mind, looking down to watch how he eagerly nosed at your clit. “Fuck, i’ll cum again…” 

“Then, do it, princess.” Just as he swallowed down more of your wetness, he realized it wasn’t enough, unable to keep himself from sliding the entirety of his tongue inside you, feeling you clench around the base of it. 

“Oh my god, your tongue, it’s so–haaaah,” you reacted breathlessly, digging your nails into the wood of the headboard, the longer his serpent-like tongue slithered in and out of you so seamlessly, unable to fully understand how any of this was possible. When the thickest part of his appendage rubbed at your g-spot, you saw white around your vision, your ears ringing, unable to hear the filthy slurping sounds Yunho was making underneath you as he drank up your squirt. 

When you came to, you were back underneath Yunho, in the missionary position he loved so much, yet this time it was profoundly different. His eyes were as dark as his freshly dyed hair, one corner of his mouth split open, inviting a myriad of long, serrated fangs, all while black wispy tendrils clung onto one side of his face like a second skin. You realized too late why Yunho was acting so out of character, and that you were never actually alone with him the past few weeks. You had an uninvited guest, an alien symbiote known as Venom, to be exact — and here you were, face to face with him, his disgustingly oversized cock stretching you wide open.

“Oh god, you’re actually going to split me open, what the fuck,” you gasped sharply, clutching the sides of Yunho’s cheeks, your fingers tugging at the ends of his sweaty hair. 

“Silly human, as much as we’d enjoy seeing that, you won’t split apart. You have a prime body for breeding, didn’t you know?” he chuckled darkly in a two-toned voice, pressing his hand down into your abdomen to feel the sheer size of himself protruding through your lower belly each time his hips routinely smacked into yours. “We knew Spider-man’s pretty little girlfriend would make a perfect host for our offspring. Just look at you, you’re taking us so well.” 

You didn’t know what was going to break your mind first, the fact that you were essentially being used as a breeding tool for an alien that would take great pleasure in swallowing you whole, or the fact that your cunt was eagerly swallowing up something so absurdly large, its heavy girth and width stretching you so wide, it felt as though you would fall apart at any given time. Despite the insanity of it all, your body and mind welcomed it, creaming yourself on his alien cock. 

“Good girlll,” Yunho praised, letting his long slimy tongue slip out to lick up the side of your cheek until he tasted the salt from the tears that fell down your face. He fully sheathed himself inside you one last time, before his large hands cemented around your waist, holding you completely still as his hot load joined the other one he had previously fucked into you, his heavy breaths warming the skin of your neck. “That’s it, princess, take it all, just like that…” 

You could hardly breathe, let alone move, simply laying still in your boyfriend’s arms, taking everything he gave you, as wave after wave of cum coated the insides of your aching cunt and flooded womb, some of it spilling down the insides of your legs and dripping onto the stained sheets below. It felt so good to be filled up in such a way that you came again without direct stimulation, letting out a broken cry, before Yunho silenced you with a kiss. 

When you opened your teary eyes, your boyfriend’s previously monstrous traits were gone, instead replaced with his usual soft, flushed features that you adored so much. You watched him open and close his mouth, as if he didn’t know what to say. You pressed another kiss to his lips, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Should we go to the drugstore to get Plan B?”

Yunho gave you a goofy, though apologetic smile, leaning his face into your neck to give it a few kisses. He pulled himself back up to face you, his eyebrows upturned. “D-do you think it would work on an alien symbiote?” 

You patted his head, knowing what you signed up for when you decided to date the Spider-man, figuring one of his superhero friends would have a solution for the both of you. You gave him a soft smile, happy when he returned it. “If not, let’s get a refund.” 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

fictober taglist: @littlefireball @crazylittlebisexual @luvbit3z @hwasbbyg @ane102 @linearities @hoe4yunho @tearfulsparks78 @sunkislove @binniesbabe @peelingpaint-heavyheart @prodsh00ky @dawn-iscozy @peachyy-jooniee @sunwoosbaby @screaming4san @cowgirlkller @markleecankickme @comicnerd557 @stay-thing-things @Alexxbear69 @kpopandthings @dekyepunn @m4m4-s4m4

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[ivyues]

A Lap to Nap - Bang Chan

Bang Chan finds peace in your lap, but duty calls him back to the studio.

Chris pushed open the door to your apartment, his eyes heavy but brightened by the sight of you waiting on the couch.

"Hey," he said softly, dropping his bag by the door. He crossed the room in a few steps, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. "Missed you."

You smiled, reaching out to brush his curls away from his forehead. “Missed you too,” you said, patting the cushion beside you. He sank down heavily, the weight of hours spent in the studio evident in his sluggish movements.

"You okay?" you asked, letting your fingers wander into his unstyled hair.

"Just tired," he murmured, eyes fluttering shut as his head found its way onto your lap. He exhaled deeply, his body melting into the couch. You continued stroking his hair, marveling at how peaceful he looked. The usual intensity and focus you associated with him were gone, replaced by serene exhaustion.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence, broken only by the hum of the TV. You glanced across the room when the soft buzz of a phone vibrating caught your attention – it was your boyfriend's phone, still in his bag at the door. For a moment, you considered getting up, but his head on your lap anchored you in place.

Your own phone buzzed on the coffee table instead, and you reached for it carefully.

Changbin: "Yo, is Chan with you? Can't reach him. Need to talk about re-recording something."

You smiled at the irony, glancing down at Chris. He was fast asleep, his lips slightly parted, utterly unaware of both phones vying for his attention. Gently, you took a quick photo – his head tucked against your thigh and your hand in his hair as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

You: "Does this answer your question?" You attached the photo and sent it.

Changbin’s reply came almost immediately.

Changbin: "😂 Sorry for disturbing. Tell him to call me when he wakes up. Hate to take him away, but we need him back for a bit. 😅"

You sighed softly and put your phone back down. Your gaze returned to Chris. You hated the thought of waking him, but you knew how important his work was. With soft fingers, you traced his cheek.

“Channie,” you called softly. “Baby, wake up.”

He stirred, his brows furrowing slightly before his eyes blinked open, glazed with sleep. He looked up at you with a faint, sleepy smile. “Didn’t… didn’t think I’d be out like that,” he mumbled, his voice warm and husky.

You chuckled, still massaging his head softly. “Changbin texted,” you said gently. “He says you need to go back to re-record something.”

Chris groaned softly, his eyes closing again for a moment, enjoying the tender sensation of your fingers against his scalp for a few moments longer. “Of course he did,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your leg.

You laughed, brushing his hair back. “He felt bad for disturbing. You were completely knocked out.”

“Was I?” he asked with a shy smile, looking up at you. “I’m sorry. I just… couldn’t help it. You’re too comfortable.”

Smiling, you leaned down to meet him, your lips brushing his in a soft, lingering kiss. When you pulled back, you whispered, “Go finish your work. You’ll have me – and my lap – all to yourself after.”

Chris grinned, sitting up reluctantly. “You better keep that promise,” he teased, stealing another quick kiss before standing and grabbing his phone.

-----

Later that night, as time in the studio slipped by, Changbin nudged Chris with a playful grin. “Hey, hope your girlfriend isn’t mad at me,” he teased. “I mean, I did kind of steal you away. I don’t want to end up on her bad side.”

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s not mad, Binnie. Trust me, Y/N’s way too chill for that.”

Han, who had been quietly listening, raised his head. "Whaaat? You called him when he was with Y/N?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Really? What a move, man."

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault,” Changbin chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Still, you owe her a date night after this.”

Chris smiled softly. “Oh, don’t worry—I’ve got plans.”

-----

The next day you received a message from Chris. It was a screenshot of the Stray Kids group chat. Your eyes widened as you saw the very picture you’d sent Changbin the day before – Chris peacefully sleeping on your lap, his curls messy and his expression serene.  

Changbin: "Guys, look what I got yesterday 😂"  

Your cheeks instantly heated up. You looked through the messages that followed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.  

Han: "OMG, this is ADORABLE."  

Felix: "Can we all agree this is peak boyfriend goals? 🥺"  

Hyunjin: "That’s so cute... 🤢❤️”

Seungmin: "The old man needing his afternoon naps – I’m saving this for future blackmail."  

Jeongin: "Honestly, same. Imagine the chaos this will cause when we tease him about it."  

At the bottom of the conversation Chris’s reply stood: 

Chris: "Blackmail? Nah, y’all are just jealous. I’m living the dream." 

masterlist

[dollishmehrayan]

BATBOYS TOXIC TRAITS / RED FLAGS + GREEN FLAGS ── .✦

a/n: the thing is, they all aren’t like problematic when it comes to relationships but they do have some things and flaws which when heard sound “oh okay that’s fine” but may be like super annoying in a irl relationship also this was a request by anon (here)! (Tags: batboys x reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Chronic People-Pleaser: Will prioritize everyone’s needs over his own (or yours), leading to burnout… and you having to remind him you exist.

Flirty by Nature: He’s not trying to flirt… it just happens. That waitress? Nope, not on purpose, but yeah, you’ll roll your eyes a lot.

Hero Complex: He always has to “save” people, including you, even when you’re perfectly fine handling it yourself. “I got it, babe.” No, you don’t, Dick.

GREEN FLAGS:

Emotionally Intelligent: He can read your mood like a book and knows exactly how to make you smile (with pancakes shaped like hearts).

Physical Affection Expert: Hugs, cuddles, forehead kisses—you’re basically his personal teddy bear.

Supportive King: He’s your biggest cheerleader, hyping you up in the most genuine, heartfelt ways. “That’s my girl.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Anger Issues: He’ll throw hands for you at the slightest provocation. Guy looks at you wrong? Jason’s already removing his jacket.

Emotionally Guarded: Good luck getting him to open up. He’s more likely to tell you his deepest fears after you’ve fallen asleep.

Reckless Behavior: He’ll drag you into the most insane situations and act like it’s no big deal. “What do you mean this is dangerous? It’s fine.”

GREEN FLAGS:

Loyal to a Fault: He’ll defend you with his life, no questions asked. “You mess with her, you mess with me.”

Soft Romantic: Beneath the tough exterior, he’s writing you sweet notes and remembering the little things, like how you take your coffee.

Protective (in a good way): He won’t smother you, but he’ll make sure you always feel safe, even if it’s just crossing the street.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Workaholic: He’ll forget to eat, sleep, and sometimes text you back because “the case was just getting good!”

Overthinks Everything: Spends hours analyzing your last text to figure out if you were mad or just tired. “Was that period passive-aggressive?”

Terrible Self-Care: You’ll have to force him to drink water and go to bed like a mom with a rebellious child.

GREEN FLAGS:

Incredibly Thoughtful: He remembers every detail about you, from your favorite flower to that obscure hobby you mentioned once.

Adorably Awkward: His shy smiles and fumbling over words when you flirt back are endlessly endearing.

Problem Solver: He’ll find solutions to all your problems, from fixing your computer to making your bad day better with tea and soft music.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Insanely Jealous: He glares daggers at anyone who looks at you too long. “Why is he breathing near you?”

Judgmental: He might critique your taste in music, books, or anything else with his usual bluntness. “This… is what you listen to?”

Control Freak: He likes things done a certain way and will try to “help” you by micromanaging your life.

GREEN FLAGS:

Devoted Partner: Once he’s in, he’s all in. You’ll never doubt his commitment because he’s always showing up for you.

Loyal Beyond Measure: He’ll defend your honor to anyone, even Bruce. “She’s perfect, Father. You simply lack taste.”

Surprisingly Gentle: Despite his tough exterior, he has a soft side that only you get to see, like the way he pets animals—or you—so tenderly.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Emotionally Repressed: He’s basically a human brick wall when it comes to expressing his feelings. “I’m… fine.” No, Bruce, you’re not.

Work Comes First: He’ll disappear into the Batcave for days unless you drag him out by the cape which becomes quickly annoying.

Overprotective: He’ll want to track your every move, not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he worries too much. “It’s for your safety.”

GREEN FLAGS:

Quietly Romantic: He may not be overly expressive, but he’ll show love through subtle gestures—like a bouquet of your favorite flowers left on the table.

Ultimate Provider: He makes sure you never want for anything, whether it’s emotional support or physical comfort.

Unshakable Devotion: Once you’ve captured his heart, he’s yours forever. There’s no halfway with Bruce—he’s in it for the long haul.

[sinning-23]

Calling Them By Their Full Name

OPLA Headcannons! I thought htis was a funny little thing lol. Anyway enjoy

Warnings: slight mentions of nsfw topics but nothing too serious

Sorry for any spelling errors!

Luffy

-ohhhhh that did not sound like your usual happy, loving voice.

-he knows he fucked up and now he’s hiding from your wrath.

-“MONKEY D. LUFFY, GET YOUR ASS IN THIS KITCHEN. NOW.”

-you could hear a pen drop from how quiet the ship got

-ok so maybe he ate that super expensive, super special dessert you had been saving for a while now. And like, it was going to go bad! All he wanted was a little taste! Than a taste turned into accidentally eating the whole thing.

-He was gonna tell you, honest! But it had proven obvious you found out before he could. He seen you round the corner with RAGe on your face and tears in your eyes.

-"TRAITOR!" You yell, throwing a tired punch to his chest.

-“I’m sorry mami, I’ll find you another one. Promise.” He hums, peppering your face with kisses, squeezing your face between his palms when he did.

-There’s no way you could stay mad at him for long

Zoro

-whoa whoa whoa why are you so ANNNGRY

-hated when you call him by his full name like that, makes him feel like a child being reprimanded

-“RORONOA GODDAMN ZORO.” You boom, Nami’s jaw dropping at the sound. Even she could tell you were pissed

-he’s the sassiest mf alive so he’ll probably just be like, “who the hell are talking to woman?!”

-“You’re a real piece of work you know that??” You’re still yelling and he wastes no time rolling his eyes at you and grabbing you by your waist, the action shutting you up.

“Wanna stop yelling and be a big girl and tell me what’s wrong?” He teases, that stupid smirk you love falling over his features at your speechlessness.

-It’s not often you say his full make but when you do he makes sure you’ll never forget it that same night.

-“Say my name baby, real loud.” He groans, a hand around your throat to steady spent body as he slams back into you

Sanji

-I know thats not a cigarette i smell Vinsmoke Sanji."

-awe hell. Yout tone is deadly. he tried he damndest to stomp it out before you rounded the corner but nope.

-You never use his full name like that. Never.

-did he just get chills?

-"Of course not my love!" He lies throigh his teeth but before he can say anything ese you re lips are on his, you fist gripping the fabric of his shirt.

-He knew he was caught, the taste of tobacco mixing with your usual mint. You pull away, smoothing his shirt out with a warning smile.

-"Don’t lie to me again, I’ll always know when you do, Black Leg." You explain , taking the small cardboard box from his pocket and walking off.

-Even though it was ment as a threat, he couldn't help but feel hotter than ususal. God he loved it when you talked all serious to him.

Bonus: Mihawk

-You know better than to use his full name. Orr to even call him anything besides the usual endearing pet name.

-So when he hears his name called with nothing short of rage, hes trying to figure out who you think you’re talking to.

-"Dracule. Mihawk." You spit, holding the empty bottle in your hand

-Ok so your rage was warented cause he managed to drink the entire vintage bottle of wine you'd been saving...it wasn’t like it was on purpose!

-He doesn’t even bother to look up from his book, just barely giving you a slight glance when you were right in front of him, pointing to the bottle.

-"Id watch your tone darling." he warns, smirking at the way you purse your lips and turn away with a fierce attitude he'd be sure to deal with later.

-“Oh shove it up your ass Dracule.” You scoff, trying to quicken your pace but failing when he’s already behind you, his much larger hand holding your wrist as you yelp.

-His look says it all. You’re screwed.

-So now you’re sitting pretty, bent over and counting each time his hand meets the sore and slightly reddened flesh of your ass.

-“Now, what’s my name again darling?”

[luveline]

hotch sister idea-- convincing hotch to take you out to dinner with the whole team because you "want to properly meet his friends" (i'm a sucker for team dynamics) but then being shy and cute with spencer the entire time to the point that hotch notices and gets a tad protective...but ends with spencer getting her number or something

thank you for requesting 💌 —you attend a party with your older brother in a not so secret plight to see Dr. Reid. You fawn, Spencer flusters, and Hotch drinks a tad more than usual. fem, 2.3k

cw for mentions of past child abuse

The car is quiet besides the tread of the tires on asphalt. You click and unclick the clasp of your shoulder bag, checking for your purse, getting worried your purse isn’t in there, and checking again.

“If there’s something you want to ask me, you can ask me.”

You move your gaze to your brother. His quietness can make you nervous, a reflection of your father but with none of the cruelty. “I don’t want you to get mad at me if it’s stupid.”

“Well, I won’t. I promise.”

You know he won’t, but sometimes the fear remains. Even when you’re far from being a kid. “Do you remember when I got suspended for, um, disrespectful behaviour? My senior year?”

Aaron turns the wheel with care. “I do.”

“And we went for ice cream.”

“Yeah, honey, I remember.”

That’s the point you’re trying to make, maybe. That tenderness sewn into the middle of his sentence. If your dad knew you’d been suspended again he would’ve made you feel it. You remember the sinking sensation in your chest waiting for him to pick you up, having written the speech he’d give you in the car ride home in your head ten times over, the sting of his palm grazing your cheek before you’d even seen his hand. So you waited in a total violent panic, head rush, wondering if anything was worth anything, when Aaron arrived to pick you up.

How did you know? you’d asked.

I changed your emergency contact. I hope that’s okay.

“You asked me what I wanted and…”

What flavour did you want, honey? he’d asked. Honey, like he loved you, the only person in the whole world who’d bother asking. The only man who’d take you for ice cream at seventeen years old to cure a bad day.

“And you burst into tears,” Aaron says.

He’d sat down opposite you in his suit, torn from one of his trials, and you can’t remember anymore if he was an attorney or already in the FBI, but you can’t forget how he’d taken your wrists into his hands and asked you not to cry.

“When you took me home, Haley asked me if you’d upset me, and I didn’t know how to explain it so you said yes. And she shouted at you for a whole half hour.”

“Why are you thinking about this now?” he asks.

Maybe because college is over and you’re forced to move on. Aaron asked you to try hard and you have, but now you have your degree and you don’t know what to do with it, you’ll get a job, and then what?

“I’ve been thinking about… my love life.”

“Oh. And you have to talk about this with me?” he jokes.

“I don’t have anybody else.”

He tears his gaze from the windshield. “That’s not true.”

“But…”

He turns into the parking lot outside of Dan’s Fine Wine Bar and pulls into a tight space with ease. He hesitates before he flicks off the engine, turning to you with a smile. “You’ll always have me,” he says, “and we can talk about your love life. I want to. God knows you’ve heard enough about mine this last year.” You both grimace. “But if I have to listen one more time to you talking about Spencer–”

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

“Honey.” He takes off his seatbelt and opens the door. “I’m not mad. But imagine your younger sibling comes to you one day to tell you they have feelings for your employee and try to find some sympathy for me!”

He clambers out of the car. You rush after him, unbuckling your seatbelt and nearly smashing your door into the car next to you. The air outside is cold, and you didn’t bring a jacket even though Aaron told you to twice, so you can’t mention it aloud. “I don’t have feelings for him.”

“You have a crush. You’re too old for it.”

“I am not.”

He gestures for you to walk in front of him as he clicks the fob for the car and the doors lock automatically. “I don’t understand what this has to do with your suspension.”

You chew on your cheek. Neon from the wine bar mottles your skin as you pass under it and through the door, air quickly turned from cold to temperate, the smell of old rain replaced by carpeting and beer. When you lift your head to his gaze, he’s still waiting for your answer. “You told me things wouldn’t be that hard forever. I was just wondering when it’s safe to say you were right.”

He grins at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to give you a rough hug. “Right now. Be happy right now, honey.”

“There they are!” Penelope calls from a table near the back. Suddenly, Aaron’s entire team of work colleagues stand up where they’ve dominated a whole row of tables and booths alike to greet you. “Oh my gosh, I missed you!”

You met Derek a long long time ago, and JJ around the same time, but everybody else is basically new. College was busy and Aaron busier —there was hardly ever time to visit, and when you did it was to see him and Haley. Meeting his friends was somehow put off.

You’ve since been introduced to Emily and Spencer, so Aaron directs you to David Rossi first. That’s the main team done quickly. But then he has to introduce you to Anderson, Sweeney, Kelly, Cory, Davidson, etc. So many agents for one man’s birthday. Anyone would think Derek Morgan was a celebrity.

“Happy birthday!” you say, when you finally get a moment to speak.

Derek reaches over the table to hug you quickly. “Thank you, gorgeous. We’re thrilled you’re here.” He pulls back, elbowing Penelope lovingly. “Aren’t we, mama?”

Penelope squeals and jumps for you. “So thrilled!”

Aaron touches your back, as if to say, I’m here, before taking a seat opposite Rossi. You hear snippets of a conversation about whiskey and when, but you’re distracted, because suddenly Penelope’s forcing you to sit down in her vacated seat, smack bang between Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.

Dr. Spencer Reid. “Hi,” you say quietly. Can’t help it. You remember how you’d reacted when you met him the week before last and wonder if it’s too late to pretend you’re cool —you’d gotten so worked up about him. He wrote a bunch of papers you had to read for your degree, some of the most sophisticated theory on elliptical math you’d ever read, and you’re supposed to act like he’s just a normal guy?

It doesn’t help that he’s model pretty. You’d never have thought of him as he is now over email, his huge brown eyes, pale skin, the flicking curl of his hair behind his ears. When he turns his head, he has indents on his nose from a pair of glasses you wish you’d seen. You clear your throat.

“Hi, Y/N, how are you?” Spencer asks.

“I’m gonna go get a drink now,” Aaron says. “What do you want?” he asks you.

“Um, anything. I don’t really wanna drink.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” he says with deliberateness.

You feel heat like a rash on your neck. He’s embarrassing you doing his dad routine.

“You look pretty,” Spencer says.

You hide your hands under your thighs. “You think so?”

“You look beautiful,” Penelope says from across the table.

“Didn’t inherit that Hotchner scowl,” Derek says with a grin, “I thought it came with the name.”

“I learned how to do it the day they signed the adoption certificate,” you nudge in, “I just keep it to myself. I think Aaron has it down.”

Everybody within hearing distance laughs at you, to your relief. To your left, Spencer’s shoe hits your heel.

“So weird to hear his real name,” Emily says, tipping her drink to the side, ice and sugar on the surface. “I thought for sure you’d have to call him Hotch too.”

You look around in surprise. “He can’t be that bad. Does he really frown so much?”

You’re told vehemently that your brother is a grump, which is something you were aware of, just not experienced in. Sure, he’s had his unhappy moments, no one can smile every second of the day, but if everyone is to be believed he’s the sternest man alive. Eventually things drift into storytelling. Aaron brings you your drink with a straw and a napkin wrapped around the base, and you find yourself listening to a graphic rehash of Derek’s first case with the BAU.

Spencer’s leg is a coal at your side.

Your self preservation runs out. “You don’t drink?” you ask, nodding to his glass bottle of coke.

“I– I never did. I never had the opportunity. I’ve never even been to a party.” He pauses. “I don’t know why I just told you that.”

“I didn’t go to parties either,” you say, overjoyed to find common ground so quickly.

“I mean, I was never invited, but highschool parties didn’t seem like my thing. And, you know, I was twelve.”

“You were twelve in highschool?”

He’s doing that thing you noticed the day you met, where his lips move before he’s ready to talk, his emotion clear. “You weren’t?” he asks, not quite smooth but enough to make you laugh suddenly.

“I wish! I could’ve been done with college years ago.” Your brows pinch together. “Wait, so did you go to college as a kid?”

“I mean, sort of.”

“What? No wonder you didn’t go to any parties, that must’ve been insane. When I was twelve I was still setting my Barbie’s up for dance parties. Aaron has a photo of me dressed up in mom’s old clothes.” You lean forward for a sip of your drink.

“Oh, don’t worry, there’s a photo of me just like that when I was twelve, too.”

You laugh so hard you almost choke.

A cup comes down hard somewhere behind your turned head.

“You okay?” Emily asks.

She wears a smirk you don’t understand, a joke you’ve missed. You peer past her to look to Aaron for advice and find him rather sullen, hand curled tightly around his drink. You try to give him a signal to ask if he’s alright, but it’s to no avail.

“I’m fine, sorry, just a joke.” You turn back to Spencer. “That’s adorable.”

You’re breathless talking to him. He must notice, but Spencer doesn’t say a word.

If someone asked you why he caught your attention, you’re not sure you know the answer. He’s pretty, undeniably, and it’s fascinating that you used his theory while you were in school, but fascination isn’t endless. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you. No ones ever given such a clear sense of awe; he gets stuck on you, his eyes tracing your cheek and your nose and your lips. It’s noticeable, but it isn’t unwanted. You keep coming back to his smile as he talks, the flash of his teeth.

“I honestly didn’t know Hotch had a sister,” Spencer says.

“He was keeping us apart for a reason,” you say insistently, “I just don’t know what that reason is yet. He must’ve known you were the Dr. Reid I’d been reading.”

“It makes it sound like you’re reading me,” Spencer laughs. “Like, my hands.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Do I want you to what?”

“To read your palm?”

“You know how?”

“No parties, remember?”

Spencer gives you his hand. He has nice hands, big but slim-fingered like a pianist’s, though if he plays isn’t something you know. You angle it flat careful, your thumbs to either side of his open palm. “What do you want to know?” you ask.

“What can you tell me?”

You hum gently. “You have your life line, your head line, your heart line– your love line.”

“What does that– that mean for me?”

You press your thumb to his mount Jupiter, a soft hill of his hand under one of his fingers where the heart line begins. “Your desire for love, and your capacity for it. See how deeply curved it is?” you ask, drawing along his heart line gently. “It means you’re warm, and loving. That you could have a great love.”

You look up, his hand held gently between yours. “But I could be really wrong. I haven’t done this in so long, I might just be making stuff up.”

You sound insecure to your own ears, cringing away from his hand, but Spencer ducks his head just a little to keep your gaze, and he smiles at you softly. “It’s okay. I like your reading, even if it’s wrong. Where did you learn how to do that?”

“Aaron would buy me any book I asked for growing up, he…”

Your brother, sitting only a few seats away, can’t find it in himself to regret that particular generosity even if the sight of you holding Spencer’s hand isn’t one he wants to see. It’s odd. You’re fully grown up, and it’s not like Aaron thinks Spencer would ever hurt you purposefully, but it’s hard to see anyways. He can admit to feeling like a father watching his daughter finding a first love; he can’t keep you forever and he doesn’t want to, but it’s still hard to watch as you descend into giggles that border on dizziness.

“This is a good thing,” Rossi says. “You’ll never have to worry about her being out past curfew.”

Aaron laughs, it’s funny, and then he knocks back his drink.

[notlongtolove]

like a lover

he doesn’t answer. he doesn’t even look at you again. he just shakes his head and walks into the bedroom. by the time you follow him, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the answer to whatever’s boiling inside him. fine. If he wants to ice you out, two can play that game.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: hurt comfort

content: student!reader gets drunk after a brutal final and spencer is beyond mad. very brief mention of abduction. lowkey spencer is in the right bc #safety but he made reader cry n for that he is found #guilty!!!

word count: 3.1k

note: based off this ask! random fact the last line of this fic was the inspiration for empty my soul but idk why i just couldnt fit it in there, anyways i hope you guys like it! (pls tell me if u do i was struggling with a resolution for this)

a line: Spencer thinks, for a split second, that he’d rather die than ever have to see you cry like that again.

I give you an onion. It is a moon wrapped in brown paper. It promises light like the careful undressing of love. Here. It will blind you with tears like a lover. It will make your reflection a wobbling photo of grief. I am trying to be truthful. - carol ann duffy

You probably should’ve stopped five drinks ago—maybe four if you were feeling merciful. That last Vodka cran? A spectacularly bad idea. But whatever. You earned this. You’re young, you’re fun, you look good, and for the first time in weeks, you have no deadlines clawing at you. The final had been a nightmare. You knew your fate was sealed the second you flipped to question three. What the hell is textual and symbolic environmentalisation? But it’s over now. That’s all that matters.

The wind bites at your bare legs as you stand by the curb, aimlessly kicking a pebble. You hug your arms close, fighting off the chill. Maybe you should’ve brought a jacket. Spencer had suggested it, but you’d waved him off. He’s usually right.

You frown, glancing up at the street sign. He said he’d be here. Right? Your phone’s dying battery blinks at you in its final moments, mocking you before shutting off completely. Definitely should’ve taken his offer of a portable charger, too. You sigh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

A man stumbles by, reeking of booze. You don’t need to look to know.

"Hey," he calls out, voice slurred and gravelly.

You keep your eyes down, pretending not to hear.

“Hey,” he says again, louder this time.

Where the hell is Spencer?

"D’you know when the bus starts running again?"

You hesitate, half-relieved that he’s asking something semi-coherent. "I—I’m sorry, I’m not sure."

He nods to himself, swaying on his feet. 

"I told you to wait by the bodega on 3rd," a familiar voice mutters. Spencer’s hand closes around your arm, already steering you away.

"Oh, hey," you say softly, relief washing over you. "Is this not—" You glance at the street sign overhead—4 Maple Drive. Shit. "I—sorry, I thought—"

"It’s fine," he says, but the sharp edge in his voice tells you it’s not.

The car ride is suffocatingly silent. When he pulls open the passenger door for you, there’s no trace of his usual warmth. No soft smile, no gentle tease about your perpetually dead phone. Just a click of the door and the quiet thud of it shutting behind you.

You hate this. Hate the tension humming between you, the way his jaw is set tight as he drives. He was so different this afternoon, greeting you after your final with those cupcakes he knows you love from the bakery on the other side of town, his lips brushing yours in endless, giddy kisses. This Spencer is nothing like that. 

"They played ‘Dancing Queen’ tonight," you venture, voice tentative. He knows it’s your favourite. Knows it always pulls you to the dance floor, no matter how tired or tipsy you are. "It was so funny—some guy bought us a round of shots—"

"And you drank it?"

The question lands heavy. His first words to you since he’d started driving. 

"Well... yeah?"

"What else did you drink?"

"Not a lot," you say quickly, tripping over your words. "Just vodka, tequila, a bit of wine—"

"You mixed?" 

The way he says it makes you bristle. There’s a hint of disbelief, maybe even disappointment. 

"Spence," you say softly. "I’m not that drunk, I promise."

Nothing.

His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. The silence in the air is almost tangible, a crackling, oppressive thing. When he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine, he doesn’t move to open your door. He always does that. But not tonight. 

You’re pretty sure he’s mad at you, though you’re not entirely sure why. It’s not like you go out that often, and you can’t even remember the last time you let yourself get this drunk. Tonight was an exception, a celebration. He understands, doesn’t he?

You follow him inside, trailing behind like a shadow. He doesn’t head to the kitchen like he does after you get back from a night out—no tea, no toast, no quiet ritual of making sure you’re okay. Instead, he walks straight into the study, his back to you. Yeah, he’s definitely mad. 

"You’re mad at me," you say, standing in the doorway.

He doesn’t answer. His hands grip the back of his chair, his head bowed like he’s trying to gather himself. You’re not one to push, usually giving him the space he needs when he gets all broody like this, but the alcohol that’s running through your system is making it hard to practice patience. 

"Why are you mad at me?"

Still nothing. 

When he finally moves, it’s only to brush past you, heading for the bedroom without so much as a glance. "We’ll talk about this tomorrow," he says, his tone flat, clipped. "I can’t talk to you when you’re like this."

This. The word hits like a slap, sharp and dismissive. It irks you. 

"If you didn’t want to come, then you shouldn’t have come," you mutter under your breath, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "I could’ve gotten a ride—"

"You were slurring on the phone." He stops in the hallway, turning just enough for you to see the tight set of his jaw. 

"Yeah, no shit, Spencer. People slur when they drink," you fire back a little too harshly, the alcohol fueling your irritation as you cross your arms defensively.

"Don’t," he warns, his voice low, dangerous in a way that makes your chest tighten.

​​You glare at him, heat rising in your cheeks. "Don’t what? Don’t point out how ridiculous you’re being right now?"

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look at you again. He just shakes his head and walks into the bedroom. By the time you follow him, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the answer to whatever’s boiling inside him. Fine. If he wants to ice you out, two can play that game.

You head to the bathroom without a word, your movements jerky as you swipe at the remnants of your makeup. You grab your moisturizer, fingers fumbling with the cap. A sharp tug and it goes flying out of your hands, clattering to the floor. 

"Fuck," you mutter, bracing yourself for a bout of instability as you bend down to retrieve it.

Before you can grab it, Spencer moves. He scoops it up, straightening with an ease that feels almost mocking. When you meet his eyes, they’re unfamiliar. It’s not the Spencer you know. Not the Spencer who covers your eyes during scary movies or kisses your forehead when you’re half-asleep. No, this Spencer feels distant, cold. 

"And I’m supposed to believe you’re not that drunk," he says flatly. Your chest tightens, a lump forming in your throat as heat flushes your face. He offers a hand as you steady yourself, trying to rise to your feet, but you brush him off, snatching the bottle from his grip with a bitterness you don’t try to mask. 

"What the hell is your problem?" you snap.

"My problem?" he repeats, incredulous. "I’m not the one blackout drunk on a Wednesday night."

"I’m not—"

"Would you—would you just stop!" he barks, the words sharp enough to make you flinch. "You’re slurring your words. You got the streets wrong. You couldn’t even get the damn moisturizer open," he snaps, gesturing toward you harshly with a mixture of frustration and exasperation.

Your knuckles whiten as you cling to the edge of the sink, unsure if you’re holding on for balance or just to keep from breaking. You spin back toward the mirror willing yourself not to cry. The frustration, the confusion, the ache in your chest—everything wells up at once.

"God, you’re being so—"

"So what?" he interrupts, his voice rising as he steps closer. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to say it. "So concerned? So worried? So—"

"So fucking mean!"

The silence that follows deafening. For a moment, he freezes, the hard edges of his expression softening into something else—shock, regret, guilt—but it’s fleeting.

"So what if I’m drunk?" Your voice cracks as the words tumble out, your frustration too overwhelming to contain. "And yeah, maybe—" You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat as you glare at him, "Maybe I’m slurring a little but forgive me for wanting a drink after the final I’ve been stressing over all fucking month."

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration barely contained. "It’s not about you having a drink. It’s about you not knowing your limits—"

"Oh, for fucks sake," you interrupt, throwing your hands up. The movement makes you sway slightly, and you hate how it only seems to prove his point. "Newsflash, Spencer, I’m a university student. Sometimes we get drunk. You don’t get to make me feel like shit just because you don’t drink.”

You push past him, your shoulder grazing his as you move to sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, and you grip the edge, willing the room to stop spinning.

"You were being reckless," he bites back, the word hanging heavy in the air. "You don’t see what I see. You’re out alone, you don’t—"

"I wasn’t alone," you say, your voice rising to meet his. "I had friends—"

"Yeah, friends who left you alone on a curb at 3am," he shoots back, cutting you off. The words land with precision, a calculated jab, but you refuse to flinch.

"Because you said you were on the way!" you fire back.

His voice is cold now, practically seething. "And what do you think would’ve happened if I hadn’t reached you just as that guy was coming on to you?"

"He was asking for the bus!" you shoot back, the words ringing out louder than you intended. You hate everything about this fight. You hate how unfamiliar he feels, hate the part of you that wonders if you’re the one who brought this out of him. "Nothing would’ve—"

Spencer’s expression darkens, his gaze narrowing. "Nothing?" He scoffs. "Tell that to Nina Radha. To Caroline Wrenley. To Mindy Denver. They were all ‘just waiting for a ride home’ last week. And now? All abducted. All dead." 

The room goes silent. Your chest tightens, and the fight drains out of you as his meaning sinks in. 

"You’re being cruel," your words are barely audible, trembling on the edge of your lips. The tears come faster now, streaking your face, but you don’t bother wiping them away. "Why—" you whisper, weak and watery, "Why are you being like this?" 

When Spencer finally turns to look at you, the sight of your tears stops him cold. They streak your face in uneven paths, and he feels something inside him splinter. Spencer never likes seeing you cry—he hates it, actually. It’s not just discomfort or unease; it’s a literal, physical ache. But knowing he’s the reason for your tears tonight? That’s pain in its most visceral form. It’s failure in its purest state.

"I—" he starts, his voice faltering. It cracks mid-sentence, and he stops, swallowing hard. His breath shudders as he exhales, trying to find the words, but all that comes out is a quiet, broken, "I was scared." 

Your tears have momentarily slowed, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. The anger in his voice has faded, replaced by something softer, something raw—fear, tangled with guilt, with regret. He takes a tentative step closer, then hesitates, unsure of what to do. 

"I thought that… something could’ve happened to you, and I—I didn’t know how to handle it." 

After a moment, he lowers himself to your level, crouching in front of you. He lifts his hand, reaching out to wipe away the tears that stain your face. But the instant his fingers near you, you flinch, turning your head to avoid his touch. The movement is small, but Spencer’s heart shatters at the rejection all the same. He hates that he’s made you cry, hates that you won’t let him near you, hates that you won’t even look at him.

"I’m sorry," he says, the words low and weighted with sincerity. He knows it’s not enough, but it’s all he has left to give. 

Your tears fall, dripping onto your hands that rest limply in your lap. You shake your head, your shoulders tense, refusing to meet his eyes. The rejection stings, sharper than he expected, but he doesn’t blame you. He knows he deserves this. The room is still except for the sound of your quiet sniffles. 

Spencer tries again, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. "I just—" His breath catches as he exhales, his hand running through his hair in agitation, the movement more to calm himself than anything else. "When I saw you standing there alone—alone and with that man, I got scared. And I lashed out. I shouldn’t have. You didn’t— you didn’t deserve that."

The silence that follows is thick, but finally, you break it. Your voice is quiet, bitter. 

"I’m not them."

You’re still not meeting his eyes, still keeping that distance, but at least it’s something. 

"Those girls… I’m not them, Spencer."

"I know, I know. I was—", his voice is low, the regret weighing heavily on every syllable.

​​"That case was tough on you, I know it was," you interrupt, "And what happened to those girls, it was horrible. But I'm not them, Spence. I'm not…" Spencer watches helplessly as you furiously wipe away a tear from your cheek. 

"I'm not dead. I'm here."

“I was projecting, I—” His voice catches, “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” he admits quietly. You nod, grimly. Another single, heavy tear slips down your cheek and Spencer feels his heart break all over again. 

"I know you’re scared. How do you think I feel every time you go out into the field?" You take a deep breath, and say bitterly, "I get it." 

Each word is a struggle, but you say it with conviction. He can see how much you’re holding in, the effort it takes for you to keep your voice from cracking. 

You pause, swallowing hard as you steady yourself, "But you—You don’t get to talk to me like that." When your eyes meet his, they flash with both anger and sadness. "You don’t get to take that out on me." 

"I know, I—That was—I was being horrible, I was an ass," Spencer admits, his voice small. "You didn’t deserve that, honey. God, I’m just—I’m so, so, sorry." 

You look at him for a long moment, searching for any sign that he’s being sincere. All you see is regret, raw and heavy. And something else, something softer. Love. He reaches out, and this time you don’t pull away. Just getting to touch you is a brief, bittersweet, blinding relief. Spencer lets his fingers graze your cheek as he wipes away your tears gently, his thumb brushing over the wet path they’ve left behind. 

A soft, almost bitter laugh escapes you. "An ass is putting it lightly." 

Spencer’s chest tightens, a small breath of relief escaping him, though it’s quickly replaced with guilt. "M’so sorry sweetheart," he breathes out, comforted by the familiar bite in your tone. It lightens the air between you, just a little.

He shifts to sit next to you on the bed. "I didn’t—I really didn’t mean to," he says quietly. You rest your head on his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh, the fight slowly draining out of you. Spencer gently takes your hands, cradling them in his. 

"I—I never want to hurt you, never want to make you cry. Ever." Spencer's voice cracks slightly as he talks, fingers tracing your palm. "You know that, right?"

You nod, your voice small but steady. "I know."

Shifting, you tuck your legs beneath you, turning to face him fully. Your hands lift to cup his face gently, your thumbs brushing against the faint stubble on his jaw. The touch is tender, almost protective, as you guide his face to meet yours. His eyes can’t hold your gaze for long, shame clearly written across them.

"I was just—I was—" He stumbles over his words.

"Scared," you finish softly, filling the silence for him. 

"I—I’m sorry," Spencer’s voice falters, "I’m really sorry honey, I should’ve never—That was—"

Your hands guide his face back toward yours, coaxing him to meet your eyes. This time, he doesn’t resist, his breath shaky as he clings to the comfort you offer. "S’okay, baby. M’not mad anymore," you murmur.

"Sad?" he asks, his voice barely audible, like he’s afraid of what you’ll say.

"No," you smile faintly, shaking your head, "Not sad, baby," you whisper, leaning closer. Your thumb traces the curve of his cheek in silent reassurance. His shoulders relax just a little. "I just—" you sigh as you let out one last, quiet sniffle, "I really hate fighting." 

Carefully, he coaxes you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you. "Me too, honey," he says, his voice thick with emotion as he shifts closer. You don’t resist, letting your head rest in the crook of his neck, your breath warm against his skin.

"S’not nice," you murmur against him, your words muffled.

"I know, I know," Spencer whispers, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles along your back. You let out a shaky sigh, sinking further into his embrace. “Was awful, wasn’t it?” he says, quietly.

"Mhm," you mumble quietly, your voice soft but pointed as you lean into his touch. "Made me cry," you say, looking at him through wet lashes to prove your point. Spencer thinks, for a split second, that he’d rather die than ever have to see you cry like that again. After a beat of quiet, he tilts his head just enough to press a soft kiss to your temple. 

"I love you, you know that?" 

You hum softly, nuzzling your face into his neck with a contented sigh, "Love you too."

"Love you so much, sweet girl," he says again, quieter this time, like it’s a truth meant only for you.

"Sap," you tease, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze, the faintest hint of a smile on your lips.

Spencer grins, soft and boyish. "Always for you," he mumbles fondly, and before you can respond, he leans forward, pressing a playful kiss to the tip of your nose.

You stick your tongue out at him in mock protest, but he’s already chasing the moment. A kiss lands on your cheek. Then another on the other side. Each one dripping with easy affection. 

"Spence—" you laugh, the sound bubbling up. It spreads a warmth through Spencer’s chest. 

"My sweet girl," he says quietly, almost to himself. 

His smile only grows as he drinks in the sound of your giggles, tears long gone. He presses a fluttering series of kisses across your form until you’re laughing into his lips, each kiss softer than the last. 

One on your cheek, two on your shoulder, a thousand on your lips.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: false god by taylor swift moon river by frank ocean

[ghostlyglimmer]

You're Grounded Mister

Summary:

A mission gone wrong leaves the Batkids bickering—until Batman grounds them and Danny Fenton, a confused civilian caught in the chaos. This one-shot is based on this post by Shower-Phantom-Ideas

It had all gone downhill fast.

The plan had been Dick’s idea—though Tim and Jason definitely could have pointed out the glaring holes in it, and Damian hadn’t exactly offered his usual dose of cynicism. It was supposed to be a quick, in-and-out operation. Minimal risk, maximum payoff.

But things got complicated when that guy showed up. Just some kid, and not even a vigilante or a rogue. It was supposed to be a straightforward job in Gotham’s shadier district—stop the exchange of a highly dangerous chemical, break up the bad guys, be home in time for breakfast. But, no, some civilian had gotten in the way and distracted the gangsters long enough to mess with their timing.

As Jason would tell it later, “It was just bad luck.” As Bruce would say, “It was complete negligence.”

And as for Danny? Well, he didn’t have much of a say in it. Not that he was about to back down from a bunch of armed gangsters, especially with the Batkids swooping in around him, leaving chaos and knocked-out criminals in their wake. Danny had handled a few of them before they even showed up, quietly taking out the last of them when Bruce finally stepped in.

And now they were here, a tense, heated argument in a dark Gotham alley.

“You should have waited for backup!” Bruce snapped, his voice slicing through their squabbles. “I told you it was a risk to go in alone—especially when we didn’t have all the intel! This is about safety, and clearly—”

“Right, clearly we were fine until you stepped in,” Jason shot back, scowling.

“It would have gone smoothly if someone didn’t just happen to be there,” Dick muttered, clearly feeling defensive.

“It was your idea, Grayson!” Tim hissed, his voice laden with frustration. “Don’t turn this around.”

“Maybe if you’d listened—”

Damian scoffed. “I could have handled them on my own.”

Bruce’s frown deepened, and he turned to Danny, who was awkwardly inching his way toward the exit.

“And don’t think you’re getting out of this,” Bruce said, turning his Batglare on him. “You’re grounded too.”

Danny froze, one foot halfway lifted in a tippy-toe pose. “I… I’m sorry, what?”

The Batkids stopped mid-argument and looked at Danny, then back at Bruce, then at each other, as if piecing something together. Dick’s face morphed from irritation to confusion; Jason’s went slack.

“Uh… Mr. Batman, sir, with all due respect, I’m just some guy,” Danny said slowly, staring at Bruce. “Can… Can Batman even do that?”

“Everyone in the Batmobile,” Bruce said firmly, ignoring Danny’s question. “We’ll discuss this further in the morning.”

Danny, still too stunned to process much beyond “Batman grounded me,” felt himself nodding along. Guess we’re going with it.

The ride was silent and tense. Jason looked broody, arms crossed, staring out the window. Tim rubbed his temples, probably rethinking every tactical choice. Dick was sulking, and Damian, surprisingly, just looked mad at being lumped in with the others. Danny, meanwhile, stayed very still, wedged between Tim and Jason, trying not to breathe too loudly. It was a surreal experience—he was tired, his limbs ached, and his brain was reeling from the absurdity of it all, but it was Batman. The Batmobile wasn’t exactly the place to make his objections.

By the time they reached the Batcave, Danny figured he’d try for some clarity.

“Uh,” he started, looking around at the cavernous space, vast and impressive, filled with tech and lights. “So, do you mind if I, uh, call my family to tell them I won’t be home tonight?”

The entire cave fell silent. Jason froze mid-complaint, Dick and Tim stopped sulking, and Damian’s scowl melted into shock. All four of them stared at Danny, and then slowly, like someone had hit pause, their heads turned to look at Bruce.

He seemed unbothered, glancing at Danny as if this were just standard procedure. But for everyone else, the realization was dawning. Dick was the first to speak, his voice wavering.

“Uh… Bruce?” Dick asked slowly, eyebrows raised. “Did… Did you kidnap a civilian?”

Bruce frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jason burst out laughing, doubling over, his hands clutching his sides. “Oh, this is gold. He’s not even a rogue, B. He’s just some random guy you told to get in the car!”

Danny held up his hands. “In my defense, it was Batman, okay? Who’s going to not get in the Batmobile when Batman tells you you’re grounded?”

Tim covered his face with both hands, muffling his laugh. Damian scowled, crossing his arms.

“This is embarrassing,” he muttered. “Father, you’re losing credibility by the second.”

Bruce’s expression tightened, clearly irked by the fact that his kids’ attention had wandered from the initial issue. They had disobeyed him, endangered a civilian, and now they were laughing because, okay, maybe he had unintentionally forced said civilian to join them in the Batcave.

He sighed, rubbing his temples, clearly rethinking several recent decisions.

“Alright,” Bruce finally said. “My apologies. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you don’t need to be here. We’ll get you a ride back home.”

Danny blinked, a little surprised. “So, wait, I’m not grounded?”

“No, you’re not grounded,” Bruce replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jason snickered. “Damn, you got off easy. We’re grounded for sure.”

Bruce cleared his throat, and the smiles faded from the other Batkids’ faces. “Yes, you’re grounded,” he said, looking at each of them in turn. “All of you.”

They groaned in unison, but Danny, relieved beyond measure, was already edging toward the door. He nodded a quick thank you to Batman and managed a small, awkward wave to the others.

As he left, he could hear Dick muttering, “Grounded… from what? We’re grown men!”

Jason groaned. “Grounded as in, no solo missions, genius.”

Danny paused, letting the sounds of the Batfamily’s complaints echo behind him as he took the lift back to ground level. He shook his head, chuckling. Only in Gotham. Only with Batman would you end up “grounded” for just existing in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But hey—at least he got a free ride in the Batmobile out of it.