#i don't know the answer but good questions to ask nonetheless!

[solarplanet2]

Which one is in Danger?

Part 2

DCxDP Prompt/Drabbles

Part 1

"We have your son."

Bruce was expecting a very normal day. If you consider having to deal with the chaos of his children and being a vigilante at night as normal.

But nonetheless, a very simple day of his normal routine and once a week dinner with his family.

Only to be broken by a phone call by someone stating that his son has been kidnapped.

Bruce didn't answer right away, he was mentally counting his sons who, are all counted for, are on the dinner table.

"Which one?" Bruce eyed each of his sons and counted them again just to be sure.

"Timothy Drake-Wayne."

Bruce immediately eyed Tim who was sitting in between Jason and Cass.

Tim's here.

Then who's the one being kidnapped?

"Bruce?" Dick spoke up, thinking that something was wrong the way Bruce was looking at all of them.

Bruce slightly waved at Dick, telling him to calm down first. "What do you want?"

Dick's question seemed to catch everyone's attention since they were all looking at Bruce now.

"Two Million. Or he gets it."

A standard threat. The kind he was expecting.

"Can I speak to my son?" This earned confused looks of his children and Bruce waved them off gesturing that it was not what they were thinking about.

"Alright kid," The kidnapper from the other said grunted, almost sounding smug. "Say hello to Daddy."

Bruce could hear heavy breathing, almost sounding like a grunt. It made Bruce slightly worried. "...Tim?" Bruce decided to speak first. "Tim, Are you okay?" And Bruce hopes that he is.

A soft grunt responded. "Hi." A croaked voice managed to respond. It sounded young. And was punched in the stomach. He should know, almost all of his children had experienced that way.

"Don't worry, chum. I'm getting you out of there." Bruce tried reassuring the kid, worried about what they might do to him. Because this isn't Tim. Tim is right across from him and these kidnappers basically had kidnapped the wrong person.

He gestured to his children, a familiar gesture, for them to head to the cave and suit up. They quickly followed, not without worried glances and confused glances at Bruce's way.

"No.." The kid had said, choked out which made Bruce paused on his step in confusion. It caught his children's attention, stopping as well.

"Uhm...Dad? I'll be fine."

Bruce believed that, for some reason, but it didn't stop his worry. But the next words from the boy made him blink

"Please give me your permission."

"....To what?" Bruce asked confusingly. Permission to what?

"To hurt."

Bruce has raised enough children to know enough about silent words in some part of the sentences without right out saying it.

To hurt them.

The kid is asking permission to hurt his kidnappers.

Bruce should say no and wait for help. Should be saying that help is on the way.

Bruce should say that he'll come and save him.

Now, Bruce doesn't normally follow his gut. It causes too much mystery and had no explanation to either it would be a good thing or a bad thing.

But right now, for once, Bruce would agree with his gut.

"....Alright."

Static came in the phone, like it was losing signal but he could clearly hear the boy voice coming out like an echo.

"Good."

"What the-- AAAHHH!!!"

Beeeepppp

Bruce blinked as he looked down at his phone after the call ended.

.....Should he have not give him permission?

"B? What's wrong? Did something happen?" Dick asked, increasingly worried now as he saw Bruce staring at his phone.

"....Suit up." Bruce concluded. They should find the boy as quickly as possible. "And call an ambulance."

Bruce could see the confused look at everyone's faces as he walked passed them.

"Wait, B!" Duke had spoke up running after Bruce with his siblings. "Was someone hurt? Is it another gang fight?"

"No. The ambulance is for the kidnappers."

".....What??"

: )

Parts: Part 1

[thebestsetter]

"If I was a color, I think I'd be yellow"

"Why?"

"Non-important. I just feel it"

He has never seen yellow the same way again. It was everywhere. He looked for it everywhere. And everytime, without fail, he remembered you. A pretty sunflower. Your blinding smile. A little minion figure he saw on the mall. You crying after watching the latest "Despicable Me" movie (and him laughing at your cute stupid crying face). A silly Winnie the Pooh keychain on a crying child's backpack. You talking to the said sad kid you both saw on the street and trying to cheer them up, playing with them and making sure they were smiling, their worries melting away in the speed of light (you'd make such a great mother, he thinks, making his face grow bright red right after). The sun in all of it's glory. You. You. You. You.

You were like a plague infecting his brain and soul. He couldn't focus on anything anymore because you were always running through his head, the sound of your laugh playing inside his mind 24/7 and driving him half insane. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask you why you said to him you were yellow. How did you know? What made you so sure of it? Why you had put him under this spell in which everytime he catches just the smallest and quickest glimpse of yellow, the image of you came flooding his mind and senses? Did you even think about him the same amount of times he thought about you? He didn't know. He couldn't know unless he asked you. And it was not fair. Not fair at all.

"Remember that day you told me you were yellow?"

"Yeah" you said, stopping mid-sip of your milkshake and looking at him with your beautiful a confused face "Yeah, I do. Why?"

"You never gave me an answer to the question I asked you that day" he ignored how the first sentence you said made his heart fluster and his stomach go silly.

"Which question?" How humilliating. He's gonna have to swallow his pride and repeat it. Utterly ridiculous.

"Why?" He couldn't care less about how hurt his ego was right now "Actually, how. How did you know you're yellow?"

"Easy. It's 'cause yellow and purple are opposites, so they look good when put together"

"What?"

"Yellow and purple are on opposite sides of the color wheel, silly! So they're complementary colors and go well together"

"I know that. But what does purple have to do with you being yellow?"

"You remind me of purple"

And suddenly, he realized yellow has never been alone. Next to the beautiful sunflower, there's a bellflower, that looks gloom when compared to the yellow plant, but basks in the joy it seems to bring nonetheless. Just like you are the one to bring joy to his life. Beside the minion figure, there's a figure of those bad purple minions, and while one is considered pretty, funny and nice, the other one is scary, angry and people tend to avoid them. It reminds him of you two: extroverted and kind you and introverted and rude him. Perfect opposites. Perfect together. He hadn't noticed before, but the child's backpack was purple, and this memory was followed by the the sound of the laughs you and the little fella shared. Kids should always be happy, smiling, harmless and having fun. Comfortable. Safe. In that way, you make him feel like a little kid. Your warm embrace, so protective and oh so motherly. He feels relaxed around you. Overjoyed. And even though he doesn't smile a lot, you always seem to make him want to crack a real, big grin. It must be a superpower of yours. Lastly, the sun, always followed by the moon. Even though they don't "meet" often, when they do, they create one of the prettiest phenomena known to humanity: an eclipse. They're always apart, but when they're together, it's so beautiful that the whole world stops to see.

"That's cringy. And kinda stupid."

"No it's not! We're a perfect duo! Just admit it!!"

"'Course we are"

"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you!!"

"I'm not saying it again."

So don't act surprised when your wedding is full of beautiful sunflowers and bellflowers. You should see it coming. They look good together right? Just like you two.

RIN ITOSHI, Kunigami Rensuke, Nagi Seishiro, MICHAEL KAISER, Barou Shohei, SAE ITOSHI, TODOROKI SHOTO, SHINSOU HITOSHI, BAKUGOU KATSUKI, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, TSUKISHIMA KEI (his name's kanji meaning moon is just so-- perfect fot this fic) , Osamu Miya, Suna Rintarou, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO + any character you think fits this!!

Curiosity!!!: Bellflowers mean "everlasting love and commitment" in flower language, while sunflowers mean steadfast love!!

Masterlist

Wrote this in the middle of my portuguese class. I hate it. I'm in love with him

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Lemme Take Care of You | Jeon Jungkook One Shot

Summary: Your deadbeat baby daddy comes around and you fall for his charms again like you always do. Pairing: Baby Mamma oc x Baby Daddy Jungkook (exes to lovers?) Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: Explicit language and sexual themes oral f receiving and hints of body insecurity after having a baby. Newly discovered lactation kink for the both of them idk man lol it kinda just happened a/n: something random I came up with while talking to @kkusadmirer lmao hope you enjoyyyy (Barely edited but that's the usual here lmao) p.s. This is a one shot but I can do drabbles and asks for this couple if you'd like more from them.

"What are you doing here?" I question as a flirty Jungkook leans against my doorway, dragging his eyes up and down my frame. "You didn't answer your phone" he says, bringing his eyes back up to mine.

"I came here to see the baby and maybe spend some time with my baby mama too" he smirks, walking past me and into the living room when I don't say a word, his head on a swivel looking for our daughter. 

"She's taking a nap right now" I say, rolling my eyes and shutting the door, leaning my head against it and praying that I'll stay strong this time. "I guess that just means I get to spend time with you then huh?" he says, checking me out again as I walk into the living room. 

"We've been over this" I sigh, hating the fact that just the thought of him makes me weak. "We both know you don't mean it" he says, walking up to me and placing a hand on my hip while trailing kisses down my neck. 

"Y-yes I do mean it Jungkook we can't keep doing this" I say, trying to keep to my word but slowly losing the battle like I always do. "No, no you don't. Just lemme take care of you yeah? Wanna make you feel good" he says, trailing his nose along my neck making me shudder at the contact. 

He leans back and looks down at me, searching for signs of true protest but when he doesn't he leans in slowly still giving me a chance to pull away but I give into him like I always do.

The kiss starts off slow and sweet, gradually putting me under his spell like he always does, making my knees weak which he takes notice of and picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and taking us back to our bedroom, no my bedroom. 

He's not supposed to be here anymore but I can never say no to him. 

He makes us both tumble down onto the bed and continues to kiss me until I can't breath and even a little after. While I pull away and gasp for breath he continues to trail kisses down my neck, licking, sucking and biting his way down until he's stopped by my shirt. 

"Take this off for me yeah?" he asks, nuzzling into my neck and playing with the hem of my shirt, giving me the choice of letting this continue which he knows I will. I sit up and he helps me take it off, having clocked that I wasn't wearing a bra as soon as I opened the door, obsessed with the larger size of my breasts still full of milk.

"Lemme taste it yeah? Just a little bit" he asks, kissing his way down my breasts, begin careful knowing that they're probably sore. I widen my eyes after hearing his request to try my breast milk but I nod my head nonetheless, turned on by the thought of it. 

He gently takes my nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it, making it nice and wet for him before he gives it a light suck, humming after the taste hits his tongue. "Fuck you taste so sweet" he praises leaving my hips bucking up, begging for some sort of friction.

"My pretty baby mama wants some attention huh?" he taunts, grinding his hips into mine, my cotton shorts rubbing up against me as barely a barrier making me moan at the rougher feeling of his jeans, making me beg for more. 

"Please just fuck me the baby's gonna be up soon" I whine when he rubs up against my clit, letting out a dry chuckle remembering my weak defense of trying to deny him just moments before. 

"No, just wanna make you feel good" he says, kissing me before trailing his tongue between the valley of my breasts and kissing along my stomach almost as if worshipping the place that once held our baby.

"Jungkook stop" I say, pushing his head down to go lower but he doesn't budge. "No, wanna remind you of how thankful I am that you made our baby. Wanna remind you you did so well taking care of her" he says, kissing all my stretch marks and nipping on places that still had a little baby weight on it. 

I lay my head on the pillow, willing myself into thinking this is just sex with him. Nothing more than just wanting the pleasure that I know he can give me. If I let my mind go anywhere else I'm just gonna let him come crawling back to me and I can't let him do that. 

He isn't good for me and I know that but when I'm this close to him it's almost as if none of that matters. 

He resumes his downward journey and kisses right bellow my belly button and looks up at me, asking for permission to take my shorts off and I grant it to him, watching as he peels it all off of me, taking in my folds glistening with arousal, leaving his eyes lighting up at the sight. 

Time and time again no matter how many times he's seen me like this it's almost as if he can't get enough of it. "Fuck, wanna put another baby in this pretty little pussy again" he says, cursing at the thought of it. 

I shut my eyes and throw my head back, squirming from the long stripe he's dragged between my folds, taking my clit into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it just as he had done with my swollen nipple moments before, driving me even more crazy at the feeling. 

"Shit" I whine out, so sensitive from it having been a little while since the last time he came and being so drunk on the feeling of his head between my thighs. "Want that too? Wanna have my baby again?" he says, knowing I'm far too gone after him having made out with my cunt, bringing me almost to the edge of it making me agree to anything he might ask. 

"Fuck Jungkook yes just keep going" I pant, bucking my hips back into his face leaving him smiling against me and suffocating himself, leading me closer and closer to my climax and soon it's washing over me. Hitting me hard like a ton of bricks and making me cover my mouth to keep as quiet as I can so I don't wake the baby. 

Thankfully all I hear on the baby monitor are her soft snores, reminding me so much of her father's that I woke up to every morning. 

Jungkook continues to give me soft kitten licks until I'm whining and pushing him away leaving him placing a quick kiss on my inner thigh before hovering over me.

"Open your mouth" he orders and I do just that, sticking out my tongue as he spits in my mouth, followed my him smashing his lips against mine, wanting to share that sweet taste he always praising me for. 

After kissing for what feels like forever, slowly going from intense to lazy as the tiredness on my side grows he pulls back to say something but we're cut off by the sound of the baby crying on the monitor. 

"I'll go" he says placing one last kiss on my lips, picking my shirt up and wiping the rest of my arousal off his chin before running to the bathroom to clean himself up and throws me a damp towel to clean myself up.

He gives me a sly smile before leaving and heads over to our daughter's room and coos at her. 

"Hi princess, it's okay Daddy's here" he says picking up our six month old and rocking her back and forth, trying to soothe her and my heart melts at the scene I can see on the monitor. 

"You've been a good girl for Mommy right? You gotta take care of her because she loves you very much" he's cut off for a second by her coos back, recognizing him right away. "Hey, no back talk missy I mean it" he jokes along, pretending to be stern with her and she giggles in response. 

"I missed you, you know that?" he says peppering her face with kisses and again being met with more giggles. "I wish I could come over more often but living somewhere else makes it hard. I hope you know I do try to come see you as much as I can" he says, adjusting his hold on her and holding her even closer. 

"I know you don't know what I'm saying but I love you" he says but pulls her away to look at her again. "Mommy says your gonna be a big sister soon" he says excitedly, just imagining the thought of expanding our family even more but at that my eyes widen thinking back to what just happened and I throw my robe on before rushing into her room. 

"You know I didn't mean that" I say, crossing my arms over my chest and cocking a brow at him. "Aw come on, don't you want her to have a sibling?" he pouts, looking back at her before adjusting his hold on her and holding her at arms length as if he were showing her off. 

"Don't you want another one that looks just like us?" he asks guilting me into it by making me say no to our daughter which he knows I can't do even if she can't understand right now. "Let's focus on the baby we have now" I say taking her out of his hands as she reaches for me. "That wasn't a no" he says, his eyes lighting up and I'm reminded again by the fact that he's younger than me, always hitting me with that childlike joy he still has.

I turn my back to him and hold her closer to the little mood light I have for her so she can watch the purple and pink swirls on the celling accompanied by so many bright stars and she reaches out almost as if she was trying to touch them. 

I feel him snake his arms around my waist and places his head in the crook of my neck so he can look down at her, both of us just admiring the beautiful little girl we made together. 

"So do you think we'll give her a baby brother or sister?" he asks placing a kiss on my neck making my breath hitch, taking away the harshness of the answer I was going to give him. 

"Keep on pushing your luck and she'll be an only child" I huff and at that she starts fussing probably from needing to have her diaper changed. 

"Hey you can't just say that! Look you made her upset" I roll my eyes at his claims and turn around to hand her to him. "You want another baby? Fine, then you change her" I say, crossing my arms, seeing the light dim in his sparkly eyes replaced with the slight disgust after smelling the damage she had done.

"So if I change this diaper then we can have another baby?" he asks, patiently awaiting my answer. "Let's focus on her and go from there" I say and he nods his head, placing her down on the changing table and getting everything he needs out of the drawer bellow it. 

"You hear that? You're gonna get a new baby brother or sister" Jungkook coos at her and I slap him upside the head in response leaving her laughing at his reaction. 

"Ow! What'd you do that for?" he whines. "Just focus on the diaper Jeon" I order and he nods his head and I walk out of the room, hearing him mumbling something about how scary I am to her but I decide to let him be this time.

This is what I get for dating a younger guy.  

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[mommynott]

Hii I don't know if you're still taking requests but plsss 🙏🙏 I need I need Dom!Theodore letting reader take control and ride him plsss absolutely need

Always taking requests sweet pea! Even if it takes me a little to get to them sometimes LOL

Anything for my sexy smut sluts 🫡💋

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, chars 18+, college au, dom!theo, bf!theo, dombf!theo, PIV, riding, rough sex, dirty talk, choking, hickies, nipple play, dom&sub, creampie

Plap- “You’re Plap- So Plap- good”-Plap plap- Theo groans through his plows, one hand wrapped around your throat while his darkened gaze burns into yours. Beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and torso.

“Mmm-…Theo, baby?”

Through your whiney little whimpers, you manage to choke up your words. But Theodore didn’t stop. Not in the least, his hand tightened around your neck as he started to smack kisses to your jaw. “Hm?…Yes, Amore?” He asks in a deep growl, his thrusts moving at a slower pace now.

You glided your head to the side, making your eyes lock together through your heavy breathing. “Can I…Can I go on top?” Questioning him, you bat your lashes up at the Italian. Showing your full submissive side while you wait for his answer. Unsure of how this could even go.

Theodore’s eyes flickered between yours for a moment, his silver-chained cross hanging right in your face before his lips curled into a sinister smirk. “Since you asked so…nicely, I’ll allow it.” His voice held a hint of danger to it, arousing nonetheless. His strong hands moved to your hips as he laid back, pulling you on top of him as he did.

“Ride the cum out of me. Drain my fucking balls. But don’t you dare think of stopping until I’ve finished, understood?”

Of course, even having the tiniest bit of control over Theo, he still showed his dominant and assertive nature that seemed to come naturally to him. “Mhmmm- Understood.” You whispered, your hips bucking against him as your hands found their way into your own silky hair.

His nails dug into your hips, pushing you down his massive shaft harder as he rocked you faster against him. “Fuck-…That’s it, Tesoro. Just like that.” Moans slip freely from your swollen lips, your eyes glossing over as you fight to keep them open.

Theodore’s lips find their way to your hardened nipples, sucking on them with a burning need, his nails clawing so hard into your hips that it seems to break the skin. This time, he switches it up from the back-and-forth movement, lifting you slightly and thrusting along with your rhythm.

“Bouncing on my -Cazzo….cock…like such a good fucking girl..”

He hisses from his throat against your perked nipple before taking it between his teeth. Making sure to leave his marks all over your breasts because again…This is Theodore fucking Nott we’re talking about here. Does he ever fully let you take control?

“Gods- I love that dick!” The moans escaping your lips only getting louder by the second, Theo’s face buried between your tits, lost in the blissful pleasure of you. “Yeah, you fuckin’ do…fuck!- Finish with me, amore. Don’t hold back.” He husked into your sensitive flesh.

No edging. No punishment. No waiting. Oh, you were fucking taking this. Not waiting a second longer, you let your orgasm hit, creamy juices flowing down onto Theo’s cock. Your moans turning into screams of pleasure just as you feel the slight twitching from his shaft.

Theo’s seed was spilling inside of your juicy cunt, practically overflowing you with the sticky mess. His own body convulsing with sheer pleasure as he growls lowly between your chest, all in the while smothering your tits with sloppy kisses.

“You’re too fuckin’ good…Such a sight to see with you on top of me…Can’t get enough of you, amore”

Hehehe I hope yall liked this lil Drabble of our beloved dom!theo

As always asks and requests are open smut sluts 💋

Divider pinned in my masterlist 🌙

[ultravioletrayz]

soccer dad!miguel who, even with all the stress of his divorce, being a single father, and his job as a fancy geneticist at Alchemax, manages to keep a tidy home. His apartment is pretty minimalist, with the exception of a few decorations and clutter items that obviously stem from Gabriela's influence. Upon scanning the place, you take a breath and hold Tony's hand as the two of you step past Miguel and make your way inside. You nudge Tony slightly, coaxing a smile out of him directed at Gabriela, who politely smiles back.

"Um, you can come with me, if you want. I can show you the game room." Gabriela offers Tony, gesturing for him to follow her through the big apartment. You cant help but smile at how welcoming the little girl is compared to her father, who's still standing in the open front doorway, as if contemplating his choices.

Tony follows Gabriela with a little bit of resistance, now associating her company with being berated by her scary ass dad. But once he looks back and sees that Miguel isn't getting as involved as usual, Tony happily lets Gabriela lead him to the game room.

soccer dad!miguel who is stuck standing in a trance after your shoulder brushed against his upper abdomen so softly. God, it's been so long since a woman touched him so gently, and he feels like a creep for being paralysed by such an unintentional graze of your body against his.

But once the kids have left and you're left standing awkwardly in the entryway, Miguel sighs and pulls himself together, still feeling the musculature of his chest area vibrating with warmth as he shuts the door and walks towards you.

soccer dad!miguel who leads you to the kitchen, offering you a seat at the kitchen counter. Once you've sat down on a stool, Miguel leans against the counter, trying to act suave, wanting to win you over for the sake of the soccer matches, Gabriela, and his love life.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, juice?" Miguel questions, eyeing the way that your big jacket somehow fails to swallow up and conceal your supple breasts, the rippling, doughy flesh sitting pretty in the cute little shirt you're wearing. The sight makes him lick his lips, his fangs protruding ever so slightly from their spaces inside his mouth, dripping with desire to taste whatever you have to offer.

He's so caught up in the sight of your young, ripe body, that he completely misses your answer to his question.

"Miguel. My coffee?" You prompt with a raised brow, snapping him out of his more than disrespectful trance. Without acknowledging you or what just happened, Miguel swivels on his heels and marches towards the coffee machine, cursing himself and fighting the urge to slap himself upside the head for being so gross. He's just so desperate for some love and affection, especially from a pretty little thing like you, who's good with kids, sassy, likes soccer, and is busty as fuck. It got the better of him.

soccer dad!miguel who knows he's more than likely blown the whole thing for himself now, so from the coffee machine, his broad, defined back still facing you, he makes some rectifying attempts at small talk.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, why is it that Tony's parents don't take him to his games? Why you?" Miguel asks, his voice gentle in case it happens to be a touchy subject as the whirring of the machine acts as a subtle background noise to ease the initial tension and awkwardness.

"No, no, it's fine. I don't mind. They both just work a lot and they can't find the time or energy for his activities. So it becomes aunt duty. But he's my brother's kid, so of course it's no problem." You answer, being much better than Miguel at remaining focused on conversation... even while your eyes wander. The way his toned back curves at his small waist, his delts and lats so defined beneath his black shirt, the roundness of his ass, the thick, sculpted muscle of his thighs and long legs. He looks like a Greek God, an annoying, asshole sort of one, but he's fine nonetheless.

soccer dad!miguel who nods along with your words as he hands you your mug full of warm coffee. He rests his elbows against the countertop in front of you, sharp red eyes staring into your soul, trying to learn more about you than he can from just your words, wanting to see, wanting to feel the kind of woman you are, you were, you want to become.

And just like that, the two of you slowly develop a rapport, conversing back and forth, sharing stories about Gabriela and Tony, talking shit about your ex boyfriend and Miguel's ex wife, and obviously exchanging lengthy apologies for some of the awful things you had said to each other at the kids' last game.

Miguel's wide, toothy grin. Your melodic, enthralled giggles. They're things neither of you have shown another person in quite some time. And a mere week ago, the two of you would be appalled at the notion that you'd be getting along so well after almost beating the shit out of each other at an Under 9's soccer game.

soccer dad!miguel who's smile grows even warmer when he hears Gabi and Tony laughing and playing on her Switch in the game room.

This is the sound he misses, back in the early days when he still thought his bitch of an ex wife was a loyal, loving woman.

This is the sound he wants to hear every Saturday morning before taking Gabriela and the baby he'd give you to his eldest's soccer game. He'd set up a sturdy little lawn chair for you on the sidelines, and try not to focus on how beautiful you look holding his little baby in your arms when he's supposed to be watching Gabriela destroy the opposition. All he's ever wanted is to experience a family life that isn't so fucking dysfunctional. Even though you seemed to be the definition of it when the two of you had first met, Miguel knows he can achieve that with you.

"Let's get out of the kitchen, hm? Ven conmigo." Miguel decides once there's a break in the conversation, walking over to your stool and holding out a large, calloused hand to assist you. Part of him thinks he might be overdoing with the whole chivalry thing out of the guilt still haunting him from how he's treated you, but he also thinks it's just enough flattery to win you over in the end.

You roll your eyes and giggle, but gladly take his hand in your own and get up. You can't lie, you sort of hope he takes you for a tour of the bedroom and ends up bending you over the side of his bed and fucking ruining you. But you also just want to get to know this big, mean, lonely single-dad, whose charm is startlingly working on you.

soccer dad!miguel who watches you intently as you stare at an old picture hanging on the wall in the living room of Miguel and his ex wife's wedding day. He looked so young, so happy, and she looked like she was being held at gunpoint. But still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy that it wasn't you in that photo, and instead some cheating whore that didn't deserve a beautiful, strong man like Miguel.

"Don't get too caught up in the details. I mean, you've seen firsthand that there's ample reason why I'd get dumped like that." Miguel chuckles, trying to lighten the mood with his self-deprecating joke, but making it worse.

"You're a smartass, sure. But you didn't deserve what happened. And Gabriela definitely didn't, either." You answer softly, your gaze still focused on overanalysing the framed photograph. Miguel frowns at your comment about Gabriela, and it's definitely true.

And the fact that you even care about Gabriela and are aware of her struggles, it makes him fall even harder. It's so typical, obviously anyone would show sympathy for a little girl who's parents have divorced, but something about it coming from you of all people makes Miguel stop thinking right.

soccer dad!miguel who pinches the bridge of his nose harshly after he blurts out a swift "Do you want to go to dinner tomorrow night?" like an idiot. He's damn near close to 40 asking a gorgeous, younger woman like you out on a date... he's too desperate for his own good. He should've just minded his own business when Gabi was getting shoved and tackled by Tony those few weeks ago. Instead, he went and dug himself a hole of humiliation. This was a complete waste of time. He shouldn't be so desperate for a woman in his life. He's a god damn man, he's got his daughter and himself to keep him going. This is pathetic, and as if you'd say 'yes' after he called you such vulgar names and damn near attacked your nephew.

So, when your lips part and your gorgeous body stiffens so suddenly, Miguel is almost tripping over himself attempting to apologise, which just makes the warm buzzing in your bones increase at such a strangely adorable sight.

"Relax! I was gonna say yes!" You giggle, reaching out to grasp Miguel's thick, hair-covered forearm, squeezing it reassuringly as you look him in the eyes. He's speechless. For once, the witty douchebag has nothing to say. And he loves that you're able to do that to him.

In that moment, the kids come running into the living room, shouting and laughing about who beat who and how funny the games they were playing were, making you laugh even harder at the frenzied emotions all around you. And Miguel's overjoyed that he gets another chance to make it up to you after what happened.

"Oh. So, um, I'll pick you up at 8?" Miguel stammers, his tan, chiseled, handsome face graced by a bashful, pinkish hue. You nod and smile in response as Gabriela and Tony zip around the two of you as you stare into each other's eyes with an almost sinful longing. Fingers crossed neither of you sassy fucks mess this up for yourselves.

PREV. PART, NEXT PART

tagging people in part 4:

@lauraolar14 @mcmiracles @mimiemie @szal0v3r @jadeloverxd @raginghomo62 @faimmm @princesatracionera @keepitreal001 @rxckstarss @ghost-lantern @rhythmloid @lazyjellyfish300 @shadofireshinobi @t4naiis @laufftuhh @grapejuicenads @xxsugarbonesxx @lounilu @kerwin290710 @straw-berry-ghoul @lizaistewdelulu @questionable-behaviour @daddysfavoritesexkitten @kocho-catt @envyjmoney @6thhokageswife @vivianite-is-dead @improbable-outset @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiira @monarchberrysblog @0strawberrysorbet0 @mreowmoreww @delectableworm @miguels-aranita @ce3stvu @reader-1290 @queenmimis @keiva1000 @mikyapixie @bunnibitez @marshhbs @vera4luv @soph121212 @leviathxn

[whoskimii]

DO I MAKE YOU HORNY, BABY ?

★ touching him ft. gojo ! ★

˖˚₊ warnings ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ slightly subby satoru, he cums in his boxers (prematurely), brief mention of unprotected p in v at the end (don't be silly, wrap your willy :3), curse words.

˖˚₊ wc ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 1k.

“hn...” satoru shivered as you sat behind him, drawing slow, lazy patterns across the bare skin of his trembling thighs. his pretty eyes squeezed shut as he leaned his sweaty back on your chest before letting his head fall backwards against your shoulder.

he wanted this. needed this.

you were his everything, the love of his life, the girl of his dreams— hell, you were his dreams.

however, he was scared to cum prematurely. he knew it would turn out this way, but he forced the anxious thought at the back of his mind.

every aspect of you prompted him to finish sooner than expected. your softness, your gentleness, your warmth— it was bound to happen.

“wait... a–are you sure 'bout this...?” the silly question made him cringe internally.

he was the one who should worry.

your quiet giggle made him tense subconsciously. “of course, i am. are you, 'toru ?” you whispered into his ear, your hot breath brushing against the shell of his skin. your pretty, manicured hands ran up and down his thighs, slowly, teasingly.

you were testing him.

“yeah, i a–am too... why d'you ask ?” he muttered, attempting to conceal the way his voice was coming out shakier than intended. “by the way you're trembling, i'm wondering, y'know ? especially 'cause you were so confident before this whole thing started.” you gently mocked him.

his thin, white eyebrows furrowed slightly as you spoke. his cocky personality resurfaced. “who's tellin' you i'm not confident ? i am, i just don't wanna hurt— mphm !” he inhaled sharply as one of your hands slipped under the waistband of his boxers to wrap around his hard, leaky dick.

“mhm ? what were you sayin' ?” you smirked, dragging your lips along the skin of his tense shoulder tauntingly. “fuck me...” he breathed, letting his heavy eyelids flutter shut.

“aw, 'course i'm gonna do that,” you smiled softly. “but be patient.” his eyes opened again when he felt you move. you straddled him easily. he swallowed thickly but his hands flew to your meaty hips nonetheless.

“what are you—" he fumbled with his words but you cut him off. “shh,” you placed a hand on his chest and slowly pushed on it to make him lay on his back. “you trust me, right ?”

that question was also silly.

“of course !” he hastened to answer. “i mean, 'course i do...” he trusted you more than anyone else.

he didn't know how you did it but you made him trust you.

“good boy...” you whispered and leaned down, your chest pressing against his. the praise made him shiver but he would never admit it. you ran your hands down his chest before stopping at his toned abdomen. your rosy, plump lips met the sensitive skin of his collarbone, which made him whimper. “fuck...” he breathed.

you kissed the hollow between his collarbones before teasingly moving towards his shoulder. he hummed and tilted his head to grant you further access, letting his pretty eyes flutter shut. “you like that, 'toru ?” you whispered against the flesh of his shoulder.

silly.

“uh-huh...” he nodded lazily, focusing on the lovely feeling of your lips on him. your mouth traveled from his neck to his sharp jawline, the tip of your warm, wet tongue occasionally dipping out to lick at his skin. he felt you giggle before your lips met his. he instinctively melted into the kiss, reciprocating the embrace with a soft enthusiasm.

“want me to make you feel good, pretty boy ?” your lips brushed against the shell of his ear.

did you have a thing for asking silly questions ?

however, the compliment made him all tingly inside. he knew he was pretty. handsome, even. even a blind man could see it. after all, he had been told countless of times that he was the strongest— the prettiest— during his childhood and even after.

but somehow, hearing the words roll off your tongue made it even better.

“yeah...” he whispered breathlessly. he groaned softly as you began grinding your hips into his, your clothed core brushing against the damp fabric of his thin boxers. “baby...” he placed his pale hands around your waist, guiding your lazy movements.

the more you moved against him, the more he felt that familiar bubble in his lower tummy tightening.

fuck.

it was already happening.

“angel, if y'keep movin' like that— mhm... shit...” he sighed. “you were 'boutta say something, 'toru...?” you knew what he wanted to say. “yeah... if you keep grindin' against me, i'm gonna cum...” he admitted, almost shyly.

you hummed, pressing your lips against his. he kissed you back before the tip of his tongue slid out to brush along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. once you parted your lips, his tongue found yours eagerly. “shit, you— mphm— definitely have some killer hips, love...” he sighed into the kiss, his words slightly muffled.

he was about to cum. he knew it.

“baby, please, just... i don't wanna cum before being inside you, stop...” he broke the kiss with a breathless sigh. you hummed but didn't stop grinding against him. “love, shit, i... i'm 'boutta cum. i'm 'boutta cum.”

he gripped the sheets tightly, his eyes closing as he felt a pleasurable pressure in his lower stomach. “fuck... i don't wanna... cum before you do.” he managed to gasp.

“satoru...” the way you purred his name, mixed with the movements of your hips, was enough to make him finish. “shit—! ngh...” his back lifted off the bed slightly as he came in his boxers. “oh...” he panted.

once he finally came down from his high, his usually light-toned cheeks were flushed. he opened his half-lidded eyes softly, still hazy with pleasure. he met your gaze, slightly ashamed. “baby, i... i'm sorry, i tried to warn—” you placed your lips against his, cutting off his sentence. “do it again. inside me, this time.”

oh.

based on this ask.

[eilishsmuse]

no need to persuade

— billie eilish x fem!reader

context. at a dinner party for one of billie’s close friends, she pulls you away for a little bit. little do you know she just means a little alone time.

cw. alcohol, swearing, making out, teasing, no smut (sorry not sorry), billie has her little slutty glasses on, billie is a little cutie patootie

soundtrack. generous – doja cat

fer yaps. don’t be mad y’all but this is a little filler for right now. i’m gonna release the other angst fic on friday 😕

Laughter. Chatter. Music. Food.

It was a nice atmosphere. One of Billie's close friends had invited the two of you over to a dinner party in their backyard, and the two of you happily accepted the invitation.

You sat at the long dinner table, surrounded by many of Billie's close friends, and chatted with them all while sipping on some white wine. Claudia and Finneas were both sitting across from you, talking about a movie night they wanted to have with Billie and you.

A double date, Claudia called it.

As you talked with Claudia, you felt Billie lay a hand on your shoulder, making you tense up slightly.

"Hi baby."

Your voice was gentle and sweet, leaning back to look up at Billie and give her a small kiss at the corner of her mouth, followed by a small smile.

"Hi mama," Billie smiled.

"I'm gonna steal her away from you for a little bit, Clauds."

Claudia gasped in fake betrayal, but nonetheless, she let the two of you go and continued to chat at the dinner table. Billie then took your hand in hers and led you into the house, making small talk, asking if you were enjoying the party or not.

As you answered Billie's questions, she pulled you into what seemed like a library-slash-office situation. Pinning you up against the door softly with a smile, her hands finding your waist and gripping softly.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

A smile plays on your lips as your hands travel to the sides of Billie's face, "Yes. Many times."

There was a comfortable silence, and the only sound was the laughter and chatter from the dinner party.

You let a soft smile play on your lips as you looked at her blue eyes through her glasses, which she'd worn a lot more recently.

"Why'd you steal me away?"

Your hands tuck back a piece of Billie's hair behind her ear. Voice gentle

Billie gave a soft hum as she tilted her head into your hand instinctively.

"Hmm, I think you know why," she murmured, nuzzling into your neck softly, her breath tickling your skin and sending a shiver down your spine.

Her hands moved slightly from your hips to wrap her arms around your waist, holding you closer to her.

A small, quiet giggle left your lips as Billie's lips connected to your skin. Tilting your head to give her better access.

"Just wanted a little alone time with you, baby,"

Billie muttered, her lips now connecting to your neck in a trail of feather-light kisses. They were gentle and innocent at first, but they soon began to get more eager and desperate, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin.

"Besides, everyone was getting on my nerves."

A small hum left your lips as you closed your eyes at the nice feeling of having Billie share some attention towards your neck. Your breathing slowed, and you sighed in contentment.

“You don’t mean that.”

Billie chuckled against your skin, continuing to leave light bite marks on your neck.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," she mumbled, pulling back slightly to pull the collar of your shirt down so she could leave a hickey.

"You just taste really good."

A quiet whine left your lips at Billie's words, and you sighed again. This time your sigh was uneven and your legs grew weak.

"Billie."

Your voice was soft and low, eyes still closed, fighting to open to look at her before the two of you did anything in this office that'd make anyone blush.

Your voice was music to Billie's ears. She loved the quiet whine that left your lips, the heavy sighs you would give in between each kiss she bestowed.

But what she loved the most was whenever you would say her name. The way it slipped off your tongue so effortlessly, like a plea, a whisper for her to take you.

Billie let out a quiet hum at the sound of your voice, and pulled back to look at your face, admiring your closed eyes and parted lips.

"God, you look so good like this, baby," Billie muttered, her eyes roaming your face, watching your chest rise and fall with each breath.

"So beautiful, I'm so lucky you're mine,"

Billie then moved one of her hands and gently traced the side of your face, her fingers running across your jawline before moving to your lower lip.

With the left over courage you had, you got a hold of Billie's collar and pushed her back to a couch that was in the middle of the office.

You walked toward her and straddled her hips, your white skirt hiking up in the process. Hands cupping Billie's face and leaning down to finally kiss her soft, plump lips. Her lips sweet with some fruity flavor, probably the punch they were serving in the backyard.

Billie's mind was in a frenzy. One moment she was being the dominant one, and the next, you had her pinned down on the couch, straddling her hips in that pretty little skirt of yours.

Billie let out a quiet gasp in surprise, her hands automatically finding their way to your thighs, giving them a light squeeze. She could feel the fabric of your skirt riding up as you straddled her, and it took all of her control to keep her mind from wandering to impure thoughts.

But those thoughts seemed to disappear as soon as you kissed her. The taste of the wine still lingering on your tongue mixed with your natural sweetness, and she couldn't help but let out a quiet moan against your lips.

Billie's hands then slowly made their way underneath your skirt, hiking it up further, her cold rings against the soft skin of your thighs.

"Mmm."

The moan that left your lips was soft and eager. Your body was fully pushing itself into Billie's grip and touch.

You tilted your head to kiss Billie better, slid one hand up her head and laced your hand into her hair. Her cap falling off in the process, landing on the floor behind the couch with a small thud.

Not paying any mind to the cap and letting your tongue explore Billie's mouth, wanting and needing more of her taste.

Your eager moan went straight to Billie's core, making her squeeze your thighs again in a desperate attempt to keep her control. But as you pressed yourself against her, and let your tongue into her mouth, all thoughts of restraint went out the window.

One of her hands that was on your thigh quickly found its way to your hips, her grip firm as she pressed you even closer against her, her own tongue meeting yours in a passionate battle for domination.

The taste of wine and your natural sweetness was like a drug to her, and she couldn't get enough. She needed more. She needed all of you.

Without warning, Billie then suddenly sat up, a hand still on your hip and the other on the back of your neck, keeping you close to her.

"God, you taste so good, mama," she muttered against your lips, her voice low and raspy, "can't get enough of you,"

A moan left your lips and reverberated against Billie's lips at her words. Your hips bucking into her lap harshly in search for any friction.

Billie then began to plant kisses along the skin of your jawline and neck, working her way down to your collarbones.

"You're driving me crazy, baby," she muttered again, giving the skin of your collarbones a gentle bite, "you just look so good in this damn skirt."

A loud smack was then heard throughout the room as Billie's hand came in contact with your ass.

A half whine and groan left your mouth, throwing your head back softly and pushing Billie further into your skin.

At the sound of your whine and the feeling of you pushing yourself against her, Billie let out a quiet growl.

"You're such a tease," she hissed quietly, nipping and sucking on your collarbone, her hands still exploring your body, finding the soft flesh that lay underneath your skirt. Squeezing.

Billie's hands were everywhere. It was like she couldn't get enough of you, like she needed to touch every inch of your skin.

"Such a good girl, baby," she murmured against your collarbone, "so perfect."

“Dinner’s ready!”

The loud voice was heard from the backyard and caused both Billie and you to stop your actions.

A soft laugh left your lips at both of your reactions, cupping Billie’s face gently.

Billie groaned at the sound of her friend's voice, her head dropping to your shoulder in frustration.

"Do we have to?" she muttered, her voice muffled against your skin.

You lifted Billie's head off your shoulder and gave her a small smile, leaving a gentle kiss on the corner of her lips.

"Yes. I'm hungry."

Her lips were red and slightly swollen, her clothes were slightly ruffled, and her glasses were crooked and not fully on her face like they were supposed to be. The sight made you giggle and you carefully fixed the glasses on her face.

"But I'm still hungry too," Billie mumbled, her voice still whiny, but a small smile began creeping on her lips.

As you fixed her glasses on her face, Billie just sat there and let you, her eyes watching your every move. She then looked back up at you, and let out a quiet sigh.

"Damn it, I'm hungry for you."

You shook your head at Billie with a smile, rubbing her cheeks with your thumbs absentmindedly.

"You can wait till after the party."

Billie huffed at your response.

"That's too long," she whined, tilting her head and pouting slightly, "I can't wait that long. I'm starving."

"Shut up!" You exclaimed with a loud laugh.

You got off her lap and extended your hand for her to get up too and follow you back to the party.

Billie groaned and rolled her eyes, pouting a little but took your hand anyway.

"You're no fun," she grumbled playfully, standing up.

Billie reluctantly took your hand, letting out a final sigh.

"Fine. But as soon as this party is over, I'm absolutely ravishing you."

A laugh left your lips as you leaned to kiss Billie.

"You're such a weirdo."

Billie chuckled at your comment.

"Maybe. But you love me."

She intertwined her fingers with yours, and began to lead you out of the library-slash-office and back to the party.

‧₊˚✩彡

fer yaps!!!

amoooooo!!! 😫

[pantherxrogers]

happy birthday sannie - choi san x fem!reader one shot (smut 18+) 🎂

📱pairing: choi san x fem!reader (established relationship)

📱warnings: smut (18+), porn with no plot, explicit language, mutual masturbation, slight degradation, slight angst, use of petnames, phone sex, dirty talk, san has a filthy mouth lmao

📱summary: reader calls to wish san a happy birthday. luckily, they both get a happy ending! 😀

📱a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML 🥳 also, i'm just now realizing how much i write about phone sex lmao. i can't help it! it's fun! 🤠

my masterlist

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

"happy birthday, sannie!"

you squeal into the phone, clutching the comforter to your chest. despite the time difference, you'd never miss the opportunity to wish your boyfriend a happy birthday.

"thank you, my love," he hums, grateful to hear your voice. he knows it's super early in the morning for you, so the gesture makes him happy. even though he feels a little guilty, it's pointless to tell you to get some sleep. after all, he missed you too.

"really wish i could be there with you." san can hear your pout through the phone. it reminds him of the hollow ache in his chest, only filled by your presence. nonetheless, he's happy to have this moment with you now.

"i know, honey. wish you could be here, too," he sighs, relaxing into the stiff hotel couch. "at least you'll be here tomorrow, though."

"that's not soon enough!" you whine, suddenly annoyed by the job that you so desperately wanted all those years ago. you have your dream career. but, days like this make you wish you could pack yourself up in san's suitcase and be with him always.

his answering chuckle is low and deep, causing you to rub your thighs together beneath the comforter. it's been almost a week since you've seen him. he had a fan meeting overseas, and the distance is wearing on both of you.

as your boyfriend rambles about his day, you find yourself getting distracted by flashbacks of the day he left with his members. his strong body hovered over yours, giving you everything he had. that familiar ache between your legs is back, much stronger this time.

"honey, did you hear me?" his inquisitive tone cuts you out of your daydream. your heart beats faster, somehow feeling like san can access the dirty thoughts running through your mind.

"sorry, sannie. i got a little distracted. what did you say?" you mentally scold yourself, embarrassed by your lack of self control.

"i was asking about how your day was?" his innocent question makes shame creep into your heart. he's the caring boyfriend, while you're the horny girlfriend who can't stay focused long enough to answer questions.

"oh, it was pretty good. just missing you a little more today."

"me too, i've been jerking off like crazy."

"san!" his casual tone catches you off guard. but, you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.

"don't act coy now, baby. i could hear you breathing heavy when i was trying to talk to you about your day." his tone is slightly condescending and very sexy. if he were here, you can bet he'd be smirking at you and teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

your silence confirms his suspicions, inciting a knowing laugh from him. "you're just so easy to read, sweetie."

"don't tease me," you whine, basking in the slight humiliation you feel. san always know how to push your limits, turning you on like never before.

"tell me what you're wearing." his low pitch is rich and smooth, causing excitement to swirl around in your belly. you mindlessly bring your hand up to your chest, teasing yourself through the thin t shirt.

"i'm wearing your tour merch." a loud groan comes through the phone, followed by the sound of san shuffling around. your words never fail to make him hard.

his mind is overtaken by the thought of you in nothing but his t shirt. if he could have it his way, he'd be with you right now, buried between your thighs. instead, he settles for his hand, teasing himself through the fabric of his pants.

"bet you look so sexy, baby. all laid out on the bed waiting for me." the desperation in his voice strikes through to your core. "bet you do, too," you whine back, picturing his strong body once again.

"need you to touch yourself for me," he instructs, leaving no room for argument. not that you'd even dream of that.

you follow his command, gliding your fingertips down to the top of your panties. blood rushes in your ears, heart beating a mile a minute. taking the plunge, you dip your hand into the fabric, drawing light circles against your clit.

on the other end, san eases his zipper down. his bulge is prominent, and he can feel it throb with everyone sound you make. he teases himself, running a hand along his shaft. his boxers are the only barrier left now and they will be gone soon.

the faint gasp you let out is almost too much for san. unable to tease himself any longer, he pulls his hard cock out of his underwear. the coldness of the room makes him hiss, suddenly feeling more sensitive. he's lewd in the way he spits into his hand, making sure you can hear him.

"t-tell me what you're doing, baby," you pant, now drawing steady circles on your clit. the pressure feels amazing but you need more.

"i'm thinking about that tight pussy. you always squeeze my cock just right." his tone makes you clench around nothing, eager to have him back with you. you slow down, using your fingers to tease the outline of your pussy. "i'm thinking about your cock." your admission makes him pump himself faster, unable to hold back.

the only thing on his mind is you. you. you.

how you look when he stretches you out with his thick fingers, wetness leaking into the palm of his hand. how you look when he's between your thighs, using his tongue to draw figure 8s on your clit. how you look when he's inside you, one hand splayed across your lower back, pounding into you from behind.

that's the image that excites him the most. more precum leaks from his tip, messily mixing with his saliva. he imagines the way he'd paint your body with it.

"need tomorrow to come soon, so i can stretch that pussy out again," he grunts, prompting you to ease your fingers into your opening. "you gonna let me wreck that pussy when you get here?"

another gasp slips through your lips, the slight stretch adding to your pleasure. "w-want you to fuck me now," you whine out, making a scissoring motion with your fingers.

"yeah, bet you'd like that, huh? what a slut. can't even call your boyfriend to wish him a happy birthday without sticking your fingers in your cunt."

"mhmm, 'm your slut, sannie!"

"s-shit. you're so fucking sexy," he huffs, eyes rolling back in pleasure. the only thing to be heard in the hotel room is the vulgar, slick sound of his hand against his cock. he's a mess now, every nerve in his body is awake. every time he gets close to the tip, he feels a zap up pleasure shoot up his spine.

"wanna hear a secret?" the only answer you can offer him is a whimper.

"remember that thong you wore the last time i fucked you?" your voice is so faint, he almost misses your soft yes.

"i brought it here with me. i've been jerking off to it almost every night, imagining your pussy wrapped around my cock."

"ooo, i'm gonna cum, sannie!" it's the last thing you get out before a string of moans. you're seeing white, eyes shut tightly in pleasure. you imagine san fucking your through your orgasm, his hips bumping against your ass.

the sound of your orgasm has san seeing stars. he imagines himself buried inside of you. your pussy is always so slick, wet, and hot. he swears he can almost feel it. with a couple sloppy pumps, he's following right behind you. thick ropes of cum shoot out of his cock, painting across his abs.

both of you pant into the phone, slowly coming down from your high. after catching his breath, san is the first to speak.

"you did such a good job, baby. love hearing you pleasure yourself." his praise makes your cheeks burn, basking in his sweetness.

"thank you, sannie. i love hearing you, too." he snickers at your bashfulness, always surprised by how quickly you get shy on him. he finds it adorable, making him love you even more.

the rest of your conversation carries on, both of you complimenting the other throughout. you can pay attention now, finally feeling satisfied after a long day without your man. san's warm voice makes you feel relaxed, dragging you into a state of tranquility.

"baby? you there?"

silence answers him. he can't help but laugh and think about his sleepy girl. with a dopey smile on his face, he decides to let you get your sleep. he's grateful he was able to satisfy you.

"goodnight, angel. i'll see you soon."

[omgthatdress]

An Analysis of the Ubiquity of Mall Brands in the late 1990s to early 2000s, or

I Fucking Hate These Guys

by OMG!thatdress

If you were a tween to teenager from roughly 1997 to 2004, chances are, you were left with profound life-long trauma caused by someone wearing Tommy Hilfiger, Abercrombie & Fitch, Ralph Lauren, Nautica, American Eagle, The Gap, Old Navy, or, if you were came along a little later, Hollister or Aeropoastale.

I cannot overstate to my young followers how over-saturated these brand names were in teen culture at the turn of the millennium, the extend to which EVERYONE was wearing them, and yet, in a weird way, how light the imprint they actually left on fashion history was.

Watching iconic teen shows of the era, you don't see any of them because a.) TV teenagers tend to be way cooler and more stylish than awkward and desperate real teenagers actually are, and b.) these brands were all copyright protected, which kept their names and logos off the airwaves.

Look in a middle school yearbook, however, you'll see it. Look at your aunt and uncle's high school photo albums, you'll see it. Ask any late Gen X or early Millennial. It was real and it was fucking awful.

The big question is why? Why? WHY, GOD WHY?! There's a lot of answers to that question.

First of all, I'm going to cite this absolutely wonderful article from Collector's Weekly about why everyone's grandma had a hideous orange couch in the 70s, and give the most simple and straightforward answer: it's what was available.

This is when the concept of online shopping is still very much in its infancy, and the hub of American consumer culture was still your local mall. If you needed new clothes, you went to the mall. And guess what stores were at every local mall? You guessed it.

For the second answer, I'm going to dig up this utter relic from the early days of internet meme-ing, that has nonetheless stuck with me and had a profound impact of my understanding of how popular fashion works:

I'm pretty sure that the reason Abercrombie & Fitch manages to survive as a brand today rests solely increasingly middle-aged Millennial men whose sense of style has refused to evolve past the shit their mom bought them in high school.

And why the hell would they? Nobody wore Abercrombie because it made them stand out or feel special. I'm still pretty convinced that nobody actually *liked* the aesthetic or thought the clothes actually looked good. You need not look past the basic color palette to understand these were not brands meant for uniqueness or self-expression.

While Britney Spears pranced around stage in her iconic neon colors and body glitter, American teenagers existed in a never-ending hellscape of washed-out neutrals, faded denim, and American flag primary colors.

All of which served its exact purpose: it was safety. It was a way to appear cool if you didn't want to go through the ordeal of actually having a personality or a sense of style. Which, of course, goes back to point number one: it was just shit you bought at the mall because you needed clothes.

It wasn't enough to save you once the school bully caught that whiff of autism and/or queerness on you, but it was enough that you could blend into the herd and pray no one ever noticed you.

Underneath it all was a very subtle undercurrent of class and classism: to wear mall brands was to declare to the world that you could indeed afford to shop at the mall. It meant you weren't, god forbid, poor.

Status symbol clothing goes back to the invention of clothing itself. The concept of brands as status symbols is still very much alive and well, its just more limited to actual luxury brands nowadays. One need look no further than your favorite high-end children's clothing website to see that rich parents still very much think it important that you know their five-year-old is wiping its boogers on Versace.

None of these brands were actual high-end luxury brands, but they still advertised and presented themselves as such. Their ads featured signifiers of "all-american" (read: White) wealth: yachts, skiing, horses, beaches, shirtless dudes with chiseled abs playing verious sportsballs.

The color palettes and cuts mimicked the preppy "Ivy" style of the New England old-money elite, along with their hobbies and lifestyle. You may not actually own a horse, but you can wear a polo shirt. You may not be able to run without breaking your ankle, but you wear the same shirt as the dude holding a football in the ad.

It was an elitist, White and skinny image that didn't age well into the diversity and body-positivity of the 2010s.

In 2003, a lawsuit was filed against Abercrombie & Fitch alleging systematic racial discrimination. People of color were rarely hired, and if they were, they were given jobs in the back, away from customer view. In 2005, the U.S. district court approved a settlement of $50,000. A few years ago, Netflix released the documentary White Hot: The Rise and Fall of Abercrombie & Fitch which admittedly I haven't watched yet because my hatred runs too deep to remind myself of its existence.

It was a hatred of Abercrombie & the (white, thin, neurotypical, heterosexual) conformity that it represented that drove me screaming into the loving arms of Hot Topic and Linkin Park. Jordan Calhoun wrote an excellent article for the Atlantic about his experience growing up poor and Black and not fitting in to the Abercrombie aesthetic.

I would be very remiss if I didn't bring up the "urban" mall brands of the early 2000s: Fubu, Sean Jean, Ecko, Baby Phat, among others. They were favored by Black teenagers and White teenagers who wanted to be Black. I know there's a lot to be said about these brands, but I'm too Caucasian to really be able to talk about them with nuance. Maybe someone else will, and I will be very happy to listen.

As much as I hate Tommy Hilfiger, I really do have to give him credit for recognizing the incredibly lucrative "street wear" market and selling power of hip-hop. While most of these mall brands kept their image sparkling White, Tommy made Aaliyah his brand ambassador and regularly appeared in the wardrobes of popular rap and R&B artists of the time.

It'd be very easy and very reductive to say that the changing ideology of the 2010s was the downfall of preppy mall brands, but really, the thing that truly killed them was the downfall of the mall itself. Shopping habits changed, and logos and brand names no longer held the power they once had.

The moral of the story is that being a teenager is fucking hell, and these popular brands both offered the safety of conformity and a status symbol to hold over the heads of the poor and uncool. The irony is that everyone who hated them as teenagers (read: ME) and the freaks who grew up to truly love the power of self-expression through personal style (read: ME) became the truly cool people. If you wore Abercrombie you grew up to vote for Donald Trump.

GO GOTH. PREPS SUCK. THE END.

[mxtantrights]

Jason as red hood dropping off lost animals at a shelter and being smitten by one of the volunteers?

a/n: thank you anon for sending this in I could marry you!!! love love love this idea and If you want more.. my inbox is open!! <33 I hope you like it, enjoy!!

You think you'll have a door just for him. Only he can go through it, only he would have the keys to it. And he could come by as he pleases.

Yeah.

It's late at night when he comes in. The bell over the front door rings out and takes you out of your late night work. You were filling up needles for the night crew and also filling out paper work from earlier in the day.

"I've got another one." he says.

You lay down the needle and jog over to the front door. Jason Todd walks in with a cat in his arms. It seems calm and unmoving. It's white fur dirty and a bit matted.

"Highway?" you ask.

You take out your flashlight and carefully look at her pupils. They dilate to the light and track it as your move it around. No signs of a concussion but a scan would really answer that question.

"Yeah, she was doing cars left and right. Didn't seem hurt but you usually do scans right?" He asks you.

You look up at him.

You nod your head, "Yeah I can do an ultra sound...do you mind staying?"

In that moment, you try to dissect the way he's looking at you. No, you didn't mean for it to come out like that. But you did mean to ask. He's the one that saved her from the highway. His presence could help her stay calm.

Jason clears his throat, "Yeah I can, I can stay. Sure."

"Okay, follow me."

-

The cat, who Jason is calling Ziggy, is resting peacefully in a pen on her own. You close the gate gently and lock it after. You turn and look at Jason now.

He's standing a few feet behind you with his arms crossed over his chest. A serious look on his face.

"You know sometimes, it's not always a bad story. Sometimes its a good one." you speak.

"A cat on a highway dodging cars is a good story?" he asks you.

You sigh, "I've had some come in this office with extensive injuries and they were dumped on the highway. In a bag or no bag. Just left to fend for themselves in a dangerous environment."

"How do you do it?" he asks.

"Me being here makes a difference. I'm here when someone like you shows up with an animal in need. You make a difference too Jason." you answer.

He shrugs his shoulders, "I'm just doing what I can."

"Which is more than most do. So give yourself some credit."

"I don't really do that." he says.

"Well, you keep coming around here I'll do it for you." you reply.

He doesn't really answer. He just hums a response. An approving and a quite silent hum. But a hum nonetheless. You smile at that.

You remember the first time he came here and dropped of a lost bird. He barely said more than four words to you. He told you about the bird and then he parted ways. You didn't expect to see him again but he keeps showing up.

And you want him to.

[sparklingblu]

Limerence (ft. ILLIT Minju)

I don't even know what to call this. Somewhat of a fluff but not really a fluff either. Something that just pops into my mind.

"So he asked 'Is it better to speak or die?' "

"That's the stupidest story I have ever heard"

Minju leaves no chance for you to savour that feeling that comes after quoting something particularly clever. Or she's just being a jerk as usual.

"You are just anti-romantic"

You protest though you know she will have thought of a retort before you finish.

"There's nothing romantic about this story"

"It's a love story for christ's sake"

"Where's the 'love' ?"

You slump back in your chair, defeated. Either she's too dumb to understand your point or you are just bad at telling stories. The latter's probably more likely.

The story's not an ordinary one in the first place. It involves a knight and a princess but it ends neither with a 'happily ever after' nor a bloodbath where they both rip their hearts out. There isn't even an ending.

'Is it better to speak or die?'

The last sentence on this paper of the dusty hard covered book which has turned yellow from the years it have endured. It's a mircale how it's still intact.

You mummur the question under your breath, trying to make sense of the words. But they are still nothing more than a jumbled mess in your mind.

The funny thing is, this is not your first time reading this story. You are actually too familiar with it. The setting, the characters, the way it almost seems to tell the secret you have carefully hidden; it doesn't make sense that you are still confused what this single question everything has lead up to mean. Still, you are here, no wiser than the first time you have read this tale.

In some time immemorial in an unknown kingdom lived a princess and a knight, each a good friend to another. Perhaps because of this closeness, the knight started to feel something more than companionship to the princess. Feelings that shouldn't exist given their scoial status. The princess knew it too though she ptetends to be oblivious. Nonetheless, the knight found himself unable to express his desires - torn between the fear of losing what he currently has and the turmoil of hiding himself. So one day, when he took his usual walk with the princess through the garden, he mustered up the courage to ask one single question.

"Is it better to speak or die?"

The End.

Anyone can guess at this point that the knight meant if it's better to put his feelings into words and sacrifice their friendship or die knowing that he will never have what he wants. You wish it's that simple.

You and Minju have been stuck in the same page for an hour now, still having no idea how to progress your assignment. The task was a paper on an in depth analysis on a tale of your choice. Now you regret not choosing 'The Tortoise & The Hare".

"Why do you choose this one anyway? There are like a million other better choices"

Minju says, gesturing at the endless shelves of books that surround you on all sides. Not millions but perhaps a thousand other choices you could have made in this rectangular bank of knowledge; the local library.

Somewhere distinct, you hear a bell chimes, signaling the arrival to the later hour of the night. You glance at your watch. It's already 9 pm. A cough reasonates from the counter near the entrance, emitted by none other than the librarian. The ghastly old woman seems to be signalling that we don't have much time left.

I don't have much time left.

Minju's translucent pupils are fixed on you, still waiting for your answer. You break out of the haze.

"Because it's.."

'Relatable'. The word is 'Relatable'. But she doesn't need to know that. Never.

"Interesting I guess"

You finish, not quite daring to meet her eyes. She might see the guilt of your dishonest words in them.

"Seriously? This is interesting? Next time you think something is interesting, feel free to ask my opinion"

"Not everyone have great taste"

You mean it to be a playful jab but her face distorts to something along the line of fury and hurt. And her lips part.

No. Please don't be mad.

Please.

"Jerk"

Her words put out the flames of fear threatening to rise in your chest. There. All good. She's not mad.

You let out a sigh of relief but quickly mask it as a half formed scoff. She can't know. So you waver her attention.

"Tell me then. What's your opinion on this story apart from it being hopelessly stupid"

Her lips stretch to a soft smile. You have put her back into her comfort zone.

"It's not about love like you think. It's about cowardice"

"Enlighten me"

She crosses her arms, the pose she always takes before her rosy lips spill out a waterfall of the most beautiful syllables. It also makes her look superior. The table, which is the only thing between you two seems like a brick wall now.

"The knight doesn't say 'I love you' or anything of that sort, does he? He's scared out of his wits so he decided to go for a safer alternative. That question. It literally says 'I'm a coward who can't even properly confess' "

Is she mocking you?

Probably not. She doesn't know. She will never know.

Still....

'Is it better to spek or die?'

A coward's attempt at love; complicated and imperfect. At least he has the courage to mutter those cowardly words.

"You are not wrong but can't it be that he's just scared of losing her?"

Yes. You are referring to yourself.

But she won't know.

"He already loses her after saying these words"

"You don't know that. You don't know what the pericess's answer was. She could have accepted him"

"You don't know that either"

Now she's fighting you with your own words.

"What would you have answered if you were the princess then?"

Is that an indirect confession? An attempt to ask her opinion without facing the shame that comes after rejection? You hope not.

"I don't know...I would probably ask him to speak in English"

"Not funny at all"

Your answer makes her raise her brows in disbelief as if saying - "I know I will never not be funny to you. You are too obsessed with me not to."

But that's impossible. She doesn't know.

Has she spoken these words aloud, you would happily agree with her. But that's just momentary courage. Your tongue would be tied to knots in a hearbeat if that ever happens.

That begs the question again.

'Is it better to speak or die?'

"Whatever" she says in exasperation. "I'm not lovey dovey enough for this"

"Seriously. Just tell me what you would have said"

There. You are pushing again, desperate for that answer even if it's not directed at you. You would cling to a tiny hope if it's ever a positive one.

"I don't know. Probably tell him to speak because I don't want anyone going suicidal mode because of me"

"He will still go suicidal if you reject him after he confess"

"Why are you asking me those? Were you in such a situation before?"

You surpress a chuckle that nearly slips your tongue.

What a fool you are Minju. You can't even spot the truth that's hidden in plain sight. The truth that has gone rusty and rotten because it has been locked up for so long. Still, it's not her fault.

You have hidden it so well.

She doesn't need to know.

"Yes"

You can't believe you say the word. It's as if someone has possessed you and put those words on your tongue.

"Poor you"

And just like that, it ends.

You have expected her to push you, given her curious nature. You want her to lend you the courage to say those words you have mummur countless times in your dreams. But she just leaves you hanging there like that. Cruel.

Can't blame her though.

She doesn't know.

Another cough pierces through the invisible viel that has seperated you two from the world outside.

9:25 pm.

5 minutes away until this tedious session of back and forth ends.

Why is it that you don't want it to end?

The papers in front of you are bare as they were an hour ago. The book still turned at the same page. The question that haunts you still lies there, imprinted in black.

'Is it better to speak or die?'

Neither. Because that's a stupid question just like Minju said. It's constructed to mess with your mind. You gotta stop dwelling on it.

"Anyway-"

Chimes

That sound. It can only mean one thing.

Minju pulls her phone out of her pocket, the glow of it illuminating her angelic feature as she turns it on. Not a moment sooner, her lips hold the prettiest of smiles.

And in all the wrong ways.

"Gotta go"

Her dismissal cuts through the tense air as she hurriedly put the papers back into her bag. Is she that desperate to get away from you?

"My boyfriend's waiting for me. We have a date tonight"

You are not angry. It would be wrong. Though it's only natural to envy the one who's living your fantasy. But the faults are not in our stars.

"Alright. Goodnight"

Minju's footsteps echo on the mahogany floor as she finally escapes the torturous session you have put her though, flying away to an embrace better than yours in every way.

But it's ok.

Because she doesn't know.

She gives a quick wave to the old librarian who does nothing to reciprocate the action. That hag doesn't know how lucky she is.

"Minju"

You call before the rest of her form disppears through these creaking doors. She turns on her heels, a stray strand of hair clinging like an unifinished piece of art to her forehead. The shadows cast by the moonlight does nothing to hide her.

"Yes?"

You breath.

And utter.

"Is it better to speak or die?"

___________________________________________

Took the famous question from the movie "Call me by your name". Though I alter the story. Thanks for reading this madness.

[panandinpain0]

Miss Granger x female Slytherin I beg you 🙏🙏 but a nice one

Summer Lovin'

Sorry this took so long! I've got a schedule out now so I'll be doing these requests more regularly <3

Enjoy!

@@@

Requested by: Anon

Hermione Granger x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

--

The fresh smell of new books would always cheer Hermione up. Not that she was in a bad mood, but it cheered her up nonetheless. Hearing the bell ring above the door was something Hermione had been longing to hear all year, the smell of a citrus scented candle wafting around the sunlit shop.

The walls had chipped brown paint on them, a warm timber color that seemed to be fading, showing the true age of the building. The wood floors had colorful rugs placed here and there, the children’s section a burst of color against the serene atmosphere. Waving to the man at the front desk, someone she’d seen there often over the years, Hermione was on her way to find a new book.

She walked slowly down the fiction aisle, her finger skimming the spines of each book. When she found one that caught her eye she pulled it off the shelf, reading the synopsis on the back.

“Looking for something exciting?” a voice asked, making Hermione flinch in surprise. She looked up at the person next to her, eyes wide. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she laughed and held her hands up to show that she meant no harm.

“You’re fine, it’s just very quiet in here,” Hermione reassured, smiling gently at the girl in front of her. “And yes, something exciting. I’ve been reading non-fiction these last couple of months and decided to switch it up.” She waved the book in her hand around slightly.

“Hence the fiction section,” the girl commented, smiling with amusement when Hermione agreed. “That one is one of my favorites.” She gestured to the book Hermione was holding.

Hermione looked back down at the book, reexamining it. “Is it any good?”

“I’d like to think I have pretty good taste,” she replied, skimming the titles of the books on the shelf in front of her.

“Are you looking for something to read?” Hermione questioned, holding on to her book with more certainty than before.

“No, I just come here to find pretty girls to talk to,” she replied, her face completely serious.

Hermione was slightly taken aback, hesitating before asking, “Really?”

The girl’s serious face morphed into a smirk, shaking her head calmly. “No, I was being sarcastic. But that does tend to be one of the perks of this shop.”

Hermione laughed nervously in response, nodding her head before tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Yes, I’m here to find a new book to read. Any suggestions?” She motioned to the shelf they were standing in front of.

Hermione turned serious as she inspected the spines, her eyes catching a specific one. As she pulled it off the shelf she asked, “How do you feel about a mystery with a romantic subplot?”

“Sounds right up my alley, if I’m being honest.”

Hermione handed her the book and they both made their way up to the counter to pay.

“You’ll have to let me know how you like the book,” the girl insisted, scribbling something down on a nearby paper. Ripping it off she handed it to Hermione. “This is my house phone, don't be surprised if my parents answer.”

“I won’t…” Hermione trailed off as she realized she didn’t know the girl’s name.

Catching the hint, the girl stuck out her hand for Hermione to shake. “(Y/N) (L/N), at your service.”

“Hermione Granger,” she returned.

“Hermione?” a voice called from outside the shop, catching both girl’s attention. Hermione’s father waved to her through the window, motioning that it was time for them to leave.

“Ah, I’ve got to go. It was a pleasure meeting you! I hope to hear how you enjoy my book as well.” Hermione smiled, cheeks pink as she said goodbye. She scolded herself as she walked away, reminding herself that she had a new friend and she shouldn’t expect anything more. Well, she had a new and very attractive friend. There’s a difference…

A Week Later…

Sniffling, Hermione gently closed the book and placed it on her lap, wiping at her tears. It had been a wonderful yet heart wrenching book, in which the main character lost the person which they loved most. She took a deep breath as she looked out of her cracked window, reflecting on what she’d read. Taking a sip of the tea that had gone cold, long forgotten after the climax of the book started, she stood up.

Hermione had been using the slip of paper (Y/N) had handed her at the bookshop as a bookmark, so as not to lose it. Now, she’d use it for its actual purpose. Gliding down the stairs, Hermione found the landline in their kitchen, dialing in the number and holding it to her ear.

As it started to ring she felt pangs of nervousness with each ring that sounded. Should she actually call her? It wasn’t a prank, was it? She didn’t think it was- they both were interested in reading and it’d be nice to have someone to talk to about it… What if she’d been making fun of Hermione the whole time and-?

“Hello?”

Clearing her throat quickly, Hermione recovered from her surprise at the voice. “Yes, hello. This is Hermione Granger, I was wondering if I could speak to (Y/N)?”

“Just a minute,” what seemed to be (Y/N)’s mother responded. Hermione heard a distant shout for her, with a “your friend’s on the phone!” after.

After another moment a different voice echoed through the phone.

“Hey, bookshop girl! Hermione, right?” (Y/N) teased through the phone, and her ease comforted Hermione from her anxieties.

“Yes, it’s Hermione. I finished the book you recommended, just now actually.”

An excited gasp could be heard, followed by a, “Did you cry? How much did you cry?”

Hermione let out a somewhat offended scoff and shook her head, even though (Y/N) couldn’t see it.

“For your information I did cry, it was a sad ending! How come you didn’t warn me?”

“What would be the fun in reading it if I’d told you how it ends?” Hermione could hear the smile in her voice.

“I suppose you’re right,” Hermione sighed back, sitting down on a stool near the counter. “Have you finished the one I gave you yet?”

“Yes, I did! You know, I always do the same thing with mystery books. I think I’ve figured out who the culprit is within three chapters and am always completely wrong by the end of the book.”

Hermione chuckled, “I also thought it was Mr. Barnabee until chapter sixteen.”

“It so should’ve been him, right? And that crazy reveal in sixteen where Gracie the mistress pulled out the handkerchief- it was exhilarating.”

“I take it you liked it?” Hermione twisted the phone cord around her finger, giving her hands something to do while they talked.

“Oh yes, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Any more recommendations? I was going to go back to the bookshop this weekend to feed my addiction.”

“Addiction?”

“Of literature.”

Hermione snorted, laughing at the response. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” The smile in her voice was evident.

“Not at all. I can’t seem to stop and it’s draining my bank account.”

Hermione giggled again. “How about this, we can meet up and shop together?”

“Even better. I’ll be there Saturday at noon.”

“I will too.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

As the line clicked to signal (Y/N) had hung up, Hermione bit her lip and sighed. She stopped mid-giggling and shook her head, scolding herself again. She’d found another friend who enjoys reading just as much as she does, that doesn’t mean she can’t still scare them off. She needed to tone it down.

…

The summer had ended as soon as it began as the girl’s read together. They started going to each other’s houses to read, and Hermione had gotten into the habit of laying her head on (Y/N)’s lap, listening to her tell the most wondrous stories from the books.

They laughed together, cried together, damn near did everything together. None of which helped Hermione get rid of her feelings in the slightest. Little did she know, (Y/N) had started to harbor feelings for her as well, what with so much time spent with each other.

Today they were reading separately, Hermione sitting against the headboard of her bed while (Y/N) laid at the end, legs hanging off as she fingered the corner of the page. It didn’t seem like she was actually reading, but lost in thought.

Hermione’s gaze kept darting from her book to the girl in front of her, blushing every time she was almost caught.

Truth was, both the girl’s were trying to figure out how to tell the other they wouldn’t be at home for the school year. They couldn’t very well tell the other that she was a witch! Well, they could, but they didn’t know that yet.

(Y/N) shifted her position to sit up, facing Hermione and abandoning her book.

“‘Mione?”

“Hm?” Hermione set down her book, giving (Y/N) her full attention.

“I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” She began to worry, her own problems shoved to the back of her mind.

“Summer’s almost over… I just wanted to tell you that I won’t be here when school starts back up.” (Y/N) bit her lip, picking at the skin of her nails. “I’m attending this boarding school, it’s a live-in…”

Hermione let out a somewhat relieved sigh at the admission, setting her book aside and scooting towards (Y/N) on the bed. Taking her hands in her own, Hermione smiled at her.

“I won’t either for the same reasons.” Her worry drained away as she saw (Y/N) shoulders relax and a smile appear on her face. They still wouldn’t be seeing each other until winter break or summer, but at least she wouldn’t be leaving Hermione behind. They both had reasons for not being home.

“Can I send you letters?” (Y/N) asked, playing with Hermione’s hand that rested between them. She knew it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to have a muggle sending letters to a wizarding village, or castle, without knowing, but what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her- right?

Hermione seemed to be going through the same possibilities in her head, but ever since she’d met (Y/N), her priorities had been a bit skewed.

“Yes, you can. I’ll write down the address,” Hermione got up and scribbled on a piece of paper, handing it to (Y/N). She put it between the pages of her book immediately without looking at it, knowing she wouldn’t remember a lick of it anyways. When she sends her first letter Hermione can just look at the address she wrote from to write back.

Hermione sat back down on the bed and the two girls shared a look of understanding. They wouldn’t see each other in person for a while but that doesn’t mean this friendship had to only be for the summer.

(Y/N) reached across the bed and wrapped her arms around Hermione’s neck, pulling her into a hug. Hermione returned the gesture, arms around (Y/N)’s waist as she tucked her head into her neck. She just knew (Y/N) and the boys would get along so well if they’d ever get the chance to meet.

“I’ll miss you,” (Y/N) whispered into Hermione’s hair.

“I’ll miss you more.”

“I doubt it.”

“Don’t fight me on this, you won’t win.”

Hermione pulled (Y/N) back and they both laid on the bed, laughing together.

A Week Later…

They’d said their official goodbyes the night before hugging and holding hands until it got late enough that Hermione knew she wouldn’t want to wake up the next morning. When they parted, (Y/N) had kissed her cheek, handing Hermione a book she’d bought her as a farewell gift.

Sitting in her parents car, Hermione read the synopsis on the back of the book, smiling and flipping through the pages.

There’s no doubt Harry and Ron would hear more about (Y/N) than they’d care to, but that’s just what comes with being friends, you hear about each other’s crushes whether you like it or not. Not that Hermione would ever admit to it being a crush. Or that she’d touched the place (Y/N) had kissed on her cheek every time she thought of her…

Arriving at platform nine and three quarters, Hermione bid her parents goodbye with a hug and ran straight into the brick pillar. Coming out on the other side, Hermione took in the air, already feeling the magic thrumming through it, as if she could taste it.

Taking her bags off of the cart she had pushed them in with, she left it near the entrance and searched for her friends, specifically for the family of redheads, knowing Harry would most likely be with the Weasley’s.

Eventually she found Ron and Harry with them, and they boarded the train. Now they walked down the aisle, searching for an empty compartment, Hermione leading. Suddenly, as she was looking through the windows of one of the doors, someone ran into her. She was pushed back into Ron, who helped her stand back on two feet.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going- ‘Mione?” the extremely familiar voice gasped in shock.

Looking up, Hermione met (Y/N)’s gaze. “(Y/N)?!” Hermione asked back with just as much surprise.

“I didn’t know you were a witch,” they both said at the same time, laughing with each other after.

“Well, this makes things much easier,” (Y/N) admitted, pulling Hermione into a hug after handing her the bag that she’d dropped back.

“You two know each other?” Harry asked, gaze darting down to (Y/N)’s green and silver tie.

“We met over the summer,” Hermione filled in, also taking in (Y/N)’s uniform (but not for the same reasons). “I had no idea you went to Hogwarts,” Hermione repeated, moving out of the way as a few people passed by.

“I didn’t know you went here either! There’s an empty compartment just up here.” (Y/N) led them just two doors up and opened it, letting them all enter and following after.

“So how did you two meet?” Harry asked, looking slyly between the two as they sat across from Ron and himself.

“At this muggle bookshop, we were both looking for something to read and started spending time together,” (Y/N) explained after putting Hermione’s bag above them next to her own.

They spent the rest of the time getting to know each other, Ron still holding a bit of distaste for her house, but pushing that aside as they talked about the Chudley Cannons together. Harry had liked her from the start, well- as soon as she said she disliked Malfoy about as much as the rest of them.

Once they arrived at Hogwarts they got off the train, knowing they’d have to separate soon. (Y/N)’s Slytherin friends waved in the distance, calling out her name.

“Well, I’d better go now. It was a pleasure meeting you two, and it was a welcomed surprise to see you, Hermione.” (Y/N) smiled and took Hermione’s hand, kissing the back of her knuckles. Hermione’s face heated at the action, Ron and Harry deciding they should just start walking to avoid making things awkward.

“Don’t be a stranger. Now that I know you go here I want to spend time with you,” Hermione admitted, not letting go of (Y/N)’s hand until she did it herself.

“I promise, I’ll see you as much as possible. And hey, now we recommend wizarding books to each other.” (Y/N) winked and hugged Hermione goodbye, walking away to see her friends.

Hermione bit her lip before turning to where Ron and Harry had waited for her. She jogged to catch up to them, and they started walking to the carriages.

“So, a Slytherin?” Harry teased and Hermione elbowed him in the side, Ron throwing his head back as he laughed.

This was going to be an interesting year.

End

--

Hope that was okay! Thanks again for requesting <3

-Author Max <3

[snowyquokka]

I hope you r gonna read this bc Im really down bad for this😭(u don't have to tho<3)

Okay so...Bang chan notices that fem!reader is on a like meet call w her boss and her team from work, he gets under the table and starts eating her out, while reader is trying to keep quiet, u can let ur fantasy end this story<3 (js a random tought I had a while ago hehe)

Also, u dont have to do it! Just asking♡

SILENCE

- chan drabble

cw: smut MDNI, fem reader, oral (f!receiving), implications of edging, praise, implied aftercare

wc: 0.3k

a.n - woah, three days in a row !?! im unstoppable (my motivation came back) thank you for the request love !! <3

❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥

Chan walks through the door after getting home from the studio. He frowns as he spots the stressed look on your pretty face, noticing the laptop set in front of you. Even he’s getting annoyed by your coworkers voices as they drone on. He smiles at you innocently as he walks towards you just out of view of the camera.

Before you know it he has somehow managed to shuffle in between you and the table while on his knees, reveling in the way your cheeks turn bright pink as you try to ignore him and answer your bosses questions.

Chan makes you subtly scooch closer to the edge of the chair so he can fold your skirt over your lap, giving him access to your soaked panties. He puts his index finger up to his lips to request your silence before making quick work of pulling down your panties.

He eats you out as quietly as he possibly can, having to will himself not to finish in his pants at you struggle to keep a straight face.

Chan squeezes your thighs hard when your voice comes out too shakily for his liking before pulling away until you’re done speaking.

He won’t you come until your meeting is over, this way you can be as vocal as you’d like. His favorite part is making you whine and beg desperately, even though this was supposed to be a reward. He just can’t help himself.

Nonetheless, he praises you so so much for being his good girl and staying quiet for him. Maybe if you’re lucky he’ll fuck you exactly the way you’d like, not making you do anything of the work and putting your needs first.

❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥

tags: @godslino @myseungsunglove @seungseung-minmin @azuna-sz

[trippinsorrows]

in your hands + two

authors note: well, friends. we've done it again. this is going to be a short series. if you're unaware, it's yet another au based off "looking through your eyes."

need to catch up? read part one HERE.

warnings: fluff, angst and smut

words: 8k (don't ask)

“Remind me again what you know about this guy?”

It’s a valid question. One Solana has no answer to despite the understanding of and behind it.

She shakes her head, once again throwing aside another failed option for a dress, earning another look of disagreement from her best friend and older sister, Yolanda. 

Six years apart, while they weren’t the closest when they were younger, with Solana now being a mother and no longer just an aunt to her niece and nephew, she's found herself growing closer to her older sister.

Something about motherhood being a thing for both of them creating a bond. 

Not to mention, while they haven’t always seen eye to eye on things, in her hardest moments, Solana has been able to lean on her big sister. Hence why she’s packed up her daughter and a couple of different options for her date tonight with Roman and ventured over to her sister’s place.

It would have probably been easier for her to just invite Yolanda over to her apartment, but given that Trick, Solana’s brother-in-law, offered to swing by her place and pick her, along with Soraya staying with them for the evening, it just worked out better that way.

Plus, Yolanda has always been much better with makeup, fashion and things of the sort.

“His name is Roman, and he’s nice.”

Yolanda rolls her eyes. “Yeah, because that’s so much.”

“He’s older.”

Yolanda’s gaze becomes a bit more suspicious. “How old?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. 30s.” The gray in Roman’s beard would indicate he may even be in his forties, but looks wise, he just doesn’t appear that old. He must work a stressful job. Has to be given how wealthy he appears. Rich people seem to always be stressed about one thing or another. Even if it’s a trivial matter that’s very much first world problems. 

Yolanda nods, clearly pleased by the answer, finding the age gap agreeable. “And how did you meet him?”

Solana shrugs. “I told you. At work.”

“At that uppity ass restaurant?”

Solana rolls her eyes, grabbing another dress off the bed. “The one that helps me pay my bills.” Barely. “Yes.”

Yolanda is dedicated to staying on this topic. “So, he just walked up to you and asked you on a date while you had Raya on your hip?”

Solana fiddles with the dress in her hand. “Not exactly…..”

She had to be pacing across her room for a good half hour, cell phone in one hand, folded piece of paper in the other. The little piece of paper that she found wrapped up with the stack of money given to her by Roman exactly three days prior.

A piece of paper with a seven digit number written on it. Dashes and all. A phone number.

His phone number.

She’s thought about it on and off for the past three days, too. Considered throwing it away, considered calling it, texting it even. So many options, and none seemed like the right one.

Why would a man like him give someone like her his number? While on a date, nonetheless? Granted, given from what she saw of their interactions on said date, Solana wouldn’t be surprised if it was the first and last.

And it’s not like there was a wedding ring on either of their fingers. 

So……

It’s why she acts based on that fleeting moment of courage, deciding to bite the bullet and dial the number while Raya sleeps peacefully in her crib. 

It takes another five minutes between the time she dials the number and when she hits send. Her heart is practically beating out of her chest at each daunting ringing on the other end. 

“Hello.” And right away, Solana is regretting her decision. He sounds irritated. 

“Hi.” She clears her throat. “Umm, I—”

“Solana?” And just like that, his tone has shifted into something entirely different. Kinder, almost.

“Yeah, ummm, is this a bad time?”

A deep chuckle on the other end of the phone. “No. Not at all.” It certainly doesn’t sound that way, but she’s not about to call him out on the incongruence. “I was wondering when you’d call.”

“Not if?”

“I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

She swallows. He’s so confident. “I—I just didn’t—I wasn’t sure if it was—it was an accident.” And as soon as it comes out, she’s slapping her face as she continues to wear a hole into the floor. What a stupid thing to say. 

Another deep chuckle. His voice is so damn sexy. “You think I accidentally gave you my number?”

“I just…..” A glance at the photo on her nightstand, one of the first photos taken of her and Soraya when she was born, triggers the elephant in the room. “I have a baby.”

“I’m aware.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Should it?” He doesn’t give her time to answer. “Look, I’m not a phone person. I prefer to discuss things face to face.” Solana’s stomach twists.“What are you doing Friday night?”

And the twisting intensifies, because there’s no way he’s asking her out?

He can’t be…..right?

She clears her throat, offering an answer that’s not entirely true but not entirely false either. “I—I have to work.” She technically hasn’t picked up the shift yet, but it’s bound to happen. Among other things. Catch up on schoolwork. Be a mom. Stress over bills. Nightly scheduled mental breakdown. The usual. 

“Not anymore,” he says it so easily, like it’s a simple thing that shouldn’t even need to be discussed. “I’ll give you whatever you make in a night.”

Solana laughs, waiting for him to also join in. He doesn't. “Shit, are you—are you serious?”

“Send me your address. I’ll have a car come pick you up.”

And that was all she wrote, hence how Solana ended up in the position she’s in now, readying for her date with a Mr. Roman Reigns.

A knock on the door interrupts her, Heaven, Solana's ten year-old niece walking in, her eyes lighting up when she sees the dress. "It's so pretty!"

Solana smiles, "thank you, baby."

Heaven's eyes crinkle with a sense of playful mischief as she walks over by her mom, sitting on her lap and asks, "are you going on a date?"

Solana and Yolanda share a laugh, the elder sister answering, "she sure is, Heav."

Solana readies to ask her niece a question when Heaven beats her to it. "Is he gonna be Raya's new dad?"

It's unexpected, as are a lot of questions for kids. But, it's still something that gives her pause, makes Solana sad for a second. Cruz doesn't need to be anyone's father. Raya isn't missing out on anything with him, but the innocent question does stir up some deeply rooted fears.

If Raya will suffer from growing up without a father at all?

Granted, it's hard for Solana to justify the alternative. Her father was in her life, and look how that turned out.

Yolanda is wise and helpful, redirecting her daughter, "baby, did you need something??"

Heaven is young enough to not see the innocent subterfuge, instead asking her initial question. “What time is grandpa coming over?”

Solana’s head snaps up as she looks at her sister through the mirror. Yolanda’s pretty face is painted in guilt as she clears her throat, quietly asking Heaven to complete some made up task, resulting in them being alone.

“Sola…..”

“Is he coming over tonight?”

“Sola—”

“Answer the question, Yolanda.”

Yolanda swallows, defeat overcoming her. “Yes.”

Solana scoffs, partially in disbelief, mostly pissed the fuck off. Shaking her head, she throws the dress down on the bed and grabs her bag, angrily stuffing them in said bag. “Forget it. I’ll see if Kayden can keep Raya.”

Yolanda’s shoulder drops as she shakes her head. “Solana, you’re being ridiculous. He’s our da—”

“Do not call him that,” Solana snaps. “He’s your dad. He’s nothing to me.” She continues to pack away the clothes, the sting of betrayal fueling her actions. “I can’t believe you would try this shit. You know I don’t want him meeting Soraya.”

She sighs, trying to explain herself. “I wouldn’t have let him—”

“Bullshit,” Solana cuts her off, swinging the bag over her shoulder. “When are you going to learn to respect my wishes? I don’t want anything to do with him! The same way he didn’t want anything to do with me!”

“You’re so dramatic. Acting like he was never there.”

“And you’re acting like he was father of the freaking year,” Solana snaps before scoffing bitterly. “Oh wait, he was. For you. It was just when I rolled around he decided he was done with fatherhood.”

Yolanda’s pretty eyes flash with a slice of guilt, but not enough to cause her to confess her wrongdoing. “Solana, he wants to make things right with yo—”

“Well, that’s too bad, because I don’t want anything to do with him,” Solana vows, gathering her bag of clothing that holds her wallet, her phone stuffed in the back pocket of her jeans as she walks out of the room, down the hall, and in TJ’s bedroom where the crib is.

“Hi, baby…..” Solana apologizes as she lifts a sleeping Soraya out of the crib, grateful when her sweet daughter remains asleep. Solana kisses the side of her head and bypasses her sister who stands in the hall, following her out and into the living room. 

Solana finds her brother-in-law sitting on the sofa, watching ESPN. 

“Trick, can you drop me off at Kayden’s place?”

Yolanda is behind her, frustration in her voice. “Solana, you’re being childish.”

Solana ignores her, focusing on her request. “Please?”

She sees the way Trick’s confused expression lifts from her to behind her, Yolanda most likely nodding to give him the sign off. Awkwardly clearing his throat, he shuts off the television and stands up. “Of course, sis.”

Solana mumbles a thank you and ops to stand outside and wait on the porch. She’s too livid with Yolanda to be around her right now. 

She just hopes and prays that this isn’t a bad sign for the evening to come.

—-------

Le Bernardin

A fancy, rich, upscale restaurant. The type where people pay thousands of dollars just for a reservation. Solana had actually applied for a job there, overhearing the pay was a fraction above minimum wage. Only for them to take one look at her and send her on her merry way, less than ten minutes into the interview.

So, it’s a bit of a full circle moment when the SUV pulls up in front of said restaurant, and she realizes the same place that turned her away as a waitress is exactly where she’ll be dining this evening. 

God really does have a sense of humor.

Solana is taken back yet again as she is escorted into the restaurant only to see it completely vacant. There’s a couple of workers, and….and him. 

Roman Reigns.

Somehow, someway, he looks different. Better than before. Bigger. If that’s even possible. 

The closer she gets to him, the more she takes in his appearance. Dress pants, nice shoes, short sleeved, dark blue shirt that hugs his bulging muscles. That beautiful hair pulled back into a bun. Expensive watch on his wrist. And eyes glued directly onto her.

Solana suddenly feels severely underdressed, regretting letting Kayden talk her into wearing the short orange dress and gold heels she eventually settled on after a good half an hour of going back and forth on options.

But, it’s when she’s directly in front of him, his lips curling into a smug smile that the second guessing wanes ever so slightly.

He looks far from disinterested. 

“You look even more beautiful when you’re all done up.” 

It’s hard not to smile at such a compliment coming from such a man.

“Thank you…..” She looks around, nervously gripping her clutch. “Are we the only—”

“I rented it out for us for the night.” Her eyes widening make him chuckle as he moves to pull out her chair for her. “You could say I’m a bit of a private person.”

Solana swallows, still confused but moving to sit down. “How…..how did you?”

“Money talks,” is his simple answer as he sits across from her, motioning for the men who escorted her in the restaurant to leave. “I’m glad you came.”

In a weird sort of way, she is too. Even if she’s not entirely sure why. “I—I wasn’t sure at first.” 

He looks curious. “Why?”

Shrugging, she pushes a string of hair that’s escaped her updo behind her ear. “That woman you were with…..”

Roman rolls his eyes. “She’s irrelevant.”

“Not irrelevant enough for you to not take on a date.” It comes out before she even realizes it. Solana slaps her hand over her face. “I’m so sor—”

“I’ve known her since I was a teenager. We…..mess around from time to time.”

Solana grows quiet. She gets it. He’s handsome. That woman was stunning. It makes sense that attractive people like to fuck other attractive people.

“But, she’s not….she’s not your girlfriend?” Because as handsome and nice as Roman seems, that’s one thing she could never do or get behind. Being the other woman.

“Not at all.” His answer is a lot more relieving than she’d like to admit. “So, can I ask about your daughter’s father?” He skips to the real question. “He still in the picture?”

Solana shakes her head, waiting for the waiter who just walked up to finish pouring the champagne before she answers. “No.” Solana takes a sip, eyes closing, missing the relief that flashes in his eyes. “He—he abandoned her and me.” 

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t necessarily sound it, but regardless, it doesn’t make a difference.

“I’m not,” she shrugs, being more honest than what’s characteristic for her. “He’s a piece of shit who left me when he found out I was pregnant, showed back up a month after she was born because he assumed I put her up for adoption and left again when he realized I was keeping her.” Solana ends on the bitter but honest note. “I’m glad he’s not in her life. He’d only end up hurting her.”

Flashbacks of her own daddy issues flood in, forcing her to confront the fact that she’s probably just overshared. A lot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“You’re not wrong. Kids need stability.” He says it so easily, Solana wondering if there’s a story there. “How old is she?”

The question brings the smile back to her face. “11 months. She’ll be a year next month.” Solana can’t believe how time has gone by. It feels like only yesterday she was welcoming her sweet daughter into the world, and now she’s about to be one. Time truly does fly. “I’m sorry, I keep talking.”

“I think I could listen to you talk all night and never get tired.” Their eyes lock, Solana shifts in her seat. His gaze is intense and burning and has her cheeks reddening. “Tell me more.”

“About?”

“Anything.”

She looks away, briefly distracted, wondering just how much the chandelier above their table costs. Probably more than she’s even made in her working life. “I—I don’t know what to say. I’m—I’m 26. I—I have a child. An older sister. She’s married with two kids. I—I’m really close with my mom and my sister…..usually.” She chuckles, adding, “I work two jobs, and I go to school full time.”

He seems intrigued by that last part. “What are you studying?”

“I’m getting my masters in nursing, specifically for FNP. I wanna be a family nurse practitioner.”

“Will be,” he corrects, complementing, “that’s impressive.”

“Maybe.” If only she felt as sure as he sounds. Still, she's appreciative of the kind words and says as much. “Thank you. My—my mom is a nurse. My sister is an RN. Mami wanted to be an NP, but she got pregnant with me right when she started grad school and just couldn’t handle both, so she dropped out.” Solana swallows. “I want to do it for her. For me, too, of course. But her and Raya.” His slight confusion makes her smile as she clarifies, “Soraya’s nickname is Raya.”

Roman makes a sound, acknowledging, “your face lights up when you talk about her.”

The smile is unavoidable. “She’s my heart.” Emotion builds up as she finds herself sharing, “I had just moved back here from Cali when I found out I was pregnant with her, and it….it’s weird, but I—I needed her at that time. I needed her to help me heal.” Solana finds herself subconsciously rubbing at the horizontal scar on the palm of her right hand.

A battle scar.

Most of what she's shared with this man would probably rank pretty high up there on anyone’s list of shit not to say on a first date, probably cementing this being a one and done thing. And, it’s not intentional. At all. She just finds herself opening up to Roman in a way she hasn’t opened up to any man.

Ever.

And, it confuses the mess out of her.

If he's curious about the unspoken story, he doesn’t express as such, just offers her a path to deflection. “Well, I’m sure you have questions for me.”

She does. “What do you do?”

He smiles at her, and she feels her insides melting away. He’s such a beautiful man. “Business exec. I do buyout leveraging. I won’t bore you with the details. I’m also into real estate.” 

She nods, assessing the still vacant room, like she’s just waiting for other guests to arrive, even though he’s made it clear that won’t be happening. “I guess…..I guess you do well for yourself.”

He makes a face. “You could say that.” 

She’s most definitely saying that. 

“What about your family? Do you have any kids?”

“No kids. I have a twin sister. Parents are still alive, but that’s…..complicated.” 

Solana picks up on the almost tension that rises in him at the ending part, the way his eyes briefly dart away.

“I get that…..” Because she does. Oh, she does. “Are you close with your sister?”

Solana is relieved to see that pearly white smile return. “Depends on the day.”

She giggles. “I agree. My sister is my best friend, but she’s also a thorn in my side sometimes.”

“Is that who’s watching your daughter?”

“She was supposed to,” Solana chuckles, elbows on the table. “But, it ended up being a thorn day, so she’s with her godmother.”

He nods, asking, “what time do you need to be back?”

Solana starts to answer while pulling out her phone, “I put her down for bed a little early, so…..” Glancing at the time on the phone, seeing that it’s quarter to 7pm, she shrugs and shares, “I just need to be home by midnight.”

He makes a sound. “That’s a decent amount of time.”

Curious, she finds herself asking, “For what?”

“Whatever you want.” And it’s the way he’s looking at her, how his eyes briefly drop to her chest, the small smirk on his face that there’s definitely something he wants, too. “Or whoever.”

—-----

Straddling Roman Reign’s lap in the back of the SUV that’s currently driving them to his penthouse isn’t exactly how Solana pictured this evening playing out. Even if it was predicted by her annoyingly accurate best friend.

“Ten bucks says you get fucked tonight.”

It was laughable at the time. Solana has never been one to sleep around. Cruz was her first everything. First kiss. First boyfriend. First time. Hell, the father of her first child. She’s never been with another man except for him, never really saw it for or in her to try out different men.

It’s why Roman currently sucking on her neck as his big hand palms her ass through her dress has her thrown for a loop. This isn’t her. At all. And yet, there’s not a single part of her that wants to stop, wants to push him away, to tell him no.

She just finds herself smashing her lips back onto his, the two continuing to tongue each other down until they reach their destination.

His hand closed around her, Solana is trying to gather herself as he leads them into the building to the private elevator. The distraction of his lips on her pulling her from taking in the fact that this man seems to be surrounded by security. Men guarding the SUV as they walked in the building. Men in the lobby of said penthouse. Men in the restauraunt.

Just guards everyone.

Solana chalks it up to a rich people thing. 

Especially when she steps foot into his penthouse.

“Holy shit…..” The interior is dark and sleek. Some shades of red and blue strewn about. It all feels so expensive. “I can’t believe this is where you liv—”

“I’m not gon’ lie, I’m not listening to a damn thing you’re saying right now.” It’s a combination of brutal honesty and a strain of frustration, Solana turning around to see he’s inching towards her. “All I can think about is getting you naked and face down, ass up on my bed.”

She closes her eyes the minute he’s right before her, swinging his arm around her waist, yanking her to him. Solana has to crane her head up to look at him. He’s so damn tall.

The hungry look in his eyes is no doubt too different from the exact way she’s looking at him. He may want her, but she definitely wants him. 

Even if she doesn’t understand it. 

Even if a part of her feels slightly guilty for what’s about to commence. 

Still, it doesn’t negate the fact that she wants this. 

It’s what has her licking her lips and saying so calmly. “So what are you waiting for?”

His smile is wicked, and she only has seconds to think about what she just welcomed into her. Figuratively and literally before he smashes his lips onto her.

Solana has only been kissed by a few men in her life, the majority of them coming from her daughter’s father. And it’s always been…..okay. Decent. Nice, even.

Kissing Roman, however, is none of those things. That hunger in his eyes is matched only by the passion in the way he kisses her, the way his full, pink lips move against hers, his tongue entering her mouth, toying around with her own.

It’s all so powerful and ravenous, and she finds her hands locking behind his neck at the same moment he hikes her up on his waist.

A gasp leaves her mouth, forcing her to break said kiss as he walks her to the back of his place, toward his bedroom.

“How…..” Never a small woman by any stretch of the imagination, especially since having Soraya, it’s a complete surprise the way he lifts and holds her like she weighs no more than a gallon of milk. 

Roman, however, is clearly still not interested in talking, because the moment they arrive in his bedroom, he has her up against the back of his door. His mouth is back on her with those hungry kisses that has her nails raking up the back of his neck, her thighs tightening around his waist. 

His breathing is uneven, his voice strained, and that hardening pressing in between her legs tells her just how badly he wants this too. 

“If you want to stop, you need to say something now.”

It’s the do or die moment. The epic moment of meeting at the crossroads. A part of her is screaming at her to get the hell out of this man’s place and back home where she belongs. With Soraya. Her daughter. Being the best mother that she can be.

But, another part of her, a stronger part of her, wants this, wants him. Because she always does the right thing. Or, tried to, at least. She’s certainly never allowed herself to indulge like this, so where’s the harm?

It’s like Kayden said.

Even woman should have at least one one night stand story. And who better to do it with than the man before her?

Solana’s answer is to press a teasing kiss against the base of his neck. “I’m not saying anything.....”

It feels like she’s barely able to get the words out when he’s carrying her over to the bed, sitting down with her still on top of him. He pulls back and motions for her to climb off. Standing in front of him, Solana watches how his gaze travels over her body before he demands, “take your clothes off. Slowly.”

It’s a strange, almost unfamiliar thing how easy it is for her to follow his instruction without a second thought. One minute her fingers are hooking on the thin straps of her dress, the next she’s squeezing herself out of it, all the while of his eyes never once leaving her.

Heavy breast freed, the only piece of clothing remaining on her is the soaked, black, lacy thong that keeps her cunt covered. 

Roman licks his lips and beckons her over, Solana wordlessly stepping close enough for him to tug her to him, his face buried in her chest. Her head falls back at the same time her mouth drops open as he starts a dangerous combination of kneading one breast while tonguing the other.

“Oh, fuck…..” Her hand is once again on the back of his head. “Roman…..”

“You better get used to saying my name.” He hikes her back on his waist only to flip them, so she’s laid back on the bed with his big, strong body covering her. “Cause it’s the only thing I want to hear for the next few hours.”

Her eyes widen at that, the word escaping her, “hours?”

Roman smiles, and it’s the best and worst thing in the world. So much mischief hidden behind those pearly whites. Carnal, salacious plans. “I like to fuck.” His gaze drops down in between her legs. “And eat.”

There’s a bit of anxiety that spurs the minute he starts dragging those luscious lips from her breast down her chest, his teeth pressing against her skin when he bites down on the band of her underwear. Solana’s hands grasp at the sheets as he uses his mouth to rid her of her final piece of clothing. 

Eyes darting open, she nearly loses it seeing him bring her panties to his face, his own eyes shutting as he deeply inhales and smirks. “I’m keeping these.”

She doesn’t have time to process how he tosses them to the side redirecting his focus to the dripping mess that is her cunt.

He makes a sound, going to pull his shirt over his head, moving to his knees at the edge of the bed. “Look at this pretty ass pussy. Already nice and wet for me.” His words do something to lessen her anxiety but not as much as she’d like. Getting head has always been a mid experience for her. Cruz was…..okay, nothing to be overjoyed about, and he always acted like it was an inconvenience whenever she asked him to return the favor. Not to mention the fact that he rarely, if ever, made her come from it.

Penetration was also hit or miss.

So, her expectations are pretty low up until that first lick of Roman’s thick tongue that has her nearly jumping off the bed. 

“Shit!” Her reaction is a bit embarrassing, most likely more than what’s necessary, but if he’s annoyed by it, he does a damn good job hiding it. 

He looks more turned on than anything. Roman’s long, thick fingers are suddenly playing with the mess she’s certain has already dripped on the soft sheets of his bed. “Lay back, and keep these legs open for me. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

More embarrassment with how quickly and fervently she nods her head, again falling back onto his big bed. Solana moans quietly when she feels his face completely submerged in her drenched cunt. 

“Roman…..”

He makes a sound followed by his fingers spreading her folds, revealing her swollen clit to him. “Sweet ass pusssy….” 

Solana hasn’t the slightest clue how she’s supposed to last these hours he’s referred to at least twice now based upon the fact that his mouth alone has her about to climax and tap out. It’s so unfamiliar and borderline inhuman how he works his tongue on and against her, exploring, licking and sucking every part of her that Cruz has somehow seemed to neglect her. 

She has her hand on the back of his head, fisting and undoing his bun, curls cascading around her fist as she presses his face deeper into her. 

It’s when he lifts his head, however, beard, chin and mouth soaked with her essence that she truly has to hold it together. “I changed my mind. I want you to watch me.” She’s not sure how and if she can do anything but, Roman’s dark eyes dropping back to her vagina. “Want you to see how good I eat this pussy…..” 

Good isn’t the word for it, because the methodical way he alternates between flicking, swirling, sucking, all the while playing with her, one finger, two fingers, moving in and out of her, needs to be studied by all men.

This is how you make a woman come, and she does. All over his face. Solana practically convulses as he laps up every bit of her essence, not once letting up, even as her orgasm rips through her. He’s still sucking on her clit, forcing her to push him away due to the overwhelming sensation of it all.

She’s partially discombobulated as his mouth finds her, letting her sample the remnants of her cum mixed in with their saliva as he taunts, “see how good you taste?” Solana is incapable of answering, among many other things. “Gonna eat you out all fucking night…..”

It’s a promise that has her clit throbbing. 

Not as much as it does watching Roman stand up at the edge of the bed and start to undo his pants. She’s unable to look away as he also rids himself of the remaining articles of clothing, her eyes basking in every rippling band of muscle that seems to make up his entire body. 

This man is beautiful and strong and ungodly perfect. It feels too good to be true.

But, it’s when he slides his boxers down, his member springing out with hunger and need that her eyes nearly bulge out of her head. 

“Oh….”

To be fair, Solana has only had sex with one man, so comparing dicks is a hard thing for her.

No pun intended.

It’s a hard thing, because it’s quite unfair and borderline cruel to even have Roman and Cruz in the same category.

Cruz barely scratches 5’7. 

Roman is well over 6ft tall.

Cruz is lean and lithe with some muscle and fat that he’s acquired over the years.

Roman’s muscles have muscles. 

Cruz dick is….average, probably a little under average.

Roman’s dick is massive.

The mushroom tip alone, pre-cum oozing through the slit, is enough to have her rethinking this whole thing. She’s not sure even that can get in.

“I don’t…..” And Solana is suddenly forced to endure the most awkward conversation of her life. “How is it supposed to fit?”

A probably silly question if not for the fact she’s genuinely concerned for the state of her vagina right now.

“It’ll fit.” Roman, however, seems unbothered, stroking himself for a minute before he instructs her. “Get on your hands and knees. Hold onto the headboard if you want.” Despite her newfound anxiety, she follows suit, Solana moaning as he glides his tip along her slippery folds. It’s baffling to her how wet she’s been and stayed for him, even with him already making her come once. This man’s presence alone is orgasm inducing. “You just gotta let me stretch this little cunt for you.”

Stretching is one thing. Ripping is an entirely different thing.

“Trust me.” He seems so sure of himself, and she’s not sure why she seems so sure of him too, nodding as she goes back to focusing on holding onto the headboard. A much needed source of support, clearly. 

Eyes closed, she hears the ripping of the condom package. Can imagine him sliding that thing over the massive, heated, turgid muscle weighing in his big hand.

She feels one hand gently gliding down her back, settling on her ass cheek where he gives her a little slap. “Just try to relax.”

Much easier said than done.

Still, she says nothing, eyes closing and head nodding. 

Now or never.

But, the minute his thick dickhead intrudes her tight opening, they’re both moaning in synchronization. It’s a burning, tight sensation on her part, maybe his as well, but there’s also something pleasurable about it? Something satisfying about the way he carefully works inch by inch of his girthy member inside of her, all the while praising her, goading her, talking her through.

“That’s it. Take this dick like the good girl you are.”

“Come on, baby. Open up for me.”

“Look at how this pussy yielding for me.”

It’s still a tight ass fit, and Solana is partially nervous about what the aftermath will look and feel like. Ice packs, crutches, and Tylenol seem to be in her near future. But, none of that matters once he’s fully seated in her, Solana trying to get used to the feel. So full and filing. 

That time of adjustment seems short lived, almost non-existent, because Solana’s body seems to have a mind of its own when she starts moving her ass back on him, prompting him to grab her hips as he starts to thrust into her.

“Shit, girl, knew this pussy would feel amazing, but I didn’t know it would feel this damn good.” His words are accurate and relatable, the discomfort gradually easing into something of pleasure. “Look how good you taking this dick.”

Eyes shut, Solana rocks her big ass back against him, whimpering when he brings hand down and slaps it. “Roman…..”

“That’s right. My name. It’s the only thing I wanna hear leave that pretty mouth of yours.” He intensifies the force of his thrusts, clearly encouraged by how she eagerly throws her ass back on his big dick. 

“Fuck, it’s so big…..” The biggest she’s ever had. The best she’s ever had. “But, it feels so good….”

“You like that shit, don’t you, baby?” He’s such a tease, taunting her, throwing in her face how good he’s beating her shit up. Solana hasn’t had sex in almost two years, not since before she found out she was pregnant, and this being her return to such a, now, wonderful thing is one hell of an experience. “Like how I’m stretching this pussy?"

“Fuck, I love it.” Because she does. Her knuckles are practically white from how hard she’s gripping the headboard, because it’s the only thing keeping her from screaming to the heavens. This man is a demond. “So good….”

Roman continues to fuck her from behind, backshots at different angles. Her head forced into the pillow. Hands on the headboard. Hands held behind her back. And each time causes her to reach a new level of heaven. 

But, it’s when Roman switches gears, repositioning them so she’s on top, Solana feels emboldened. Being on top with Cruz was always an uncomfortable thing, mostly because he would make comments about her being “too heavy” to ride him.

With Roman, all the man he is, it’s not a concern in the slightest. 

She bounces on top of his god-tier dick without a fucking care in the world. 

And he seems to feel the same. 

“That’s it……” She can feel his eyes burning into her as she rocks down on him, her big breast bouncing back and forth. “Ride my dick just like that, baby. Take what you need.”

And taking is exactly what she’s doing, because if this is a once in a lifetime chance to be fucked, thoroughly fucked by a man like Roman Reigns, she’s going to ride it until the wheels fall off. 

Some pun intended.

Roman growls, big hands pressing into her meaty hips. “He can’t never fuck you like this, fill you up like I can.” His lips are hot and pressured against the neck. “He can’t do shit for you that I can.”

She knows exactly who he’s referring to, and not a single lie is being told. “Little ass pussy squeezing the hell out of my big dick.” She moans, pulling his hair as he sucks on her tits, stopping only to again tease her, “you like that shit don’t you?”

She doesn’t stop, just professes all of the wonderful things he and his equally wonderful member are doing for her. “I love it. Fuck, I love it.”

“That’s all you needed. Someone to fuck you nice and right.” Again, it seems this man is incapable of lying, Solana hissing as he squeezes her ass cheeks while his tongue plays with her areola. “Take that stress all out on me, baby. Let me relax you.”

There’s something inherently stressful and relaxing with the way she can’t seem to find the space between reality and fantasy, with how he’s giving her a form of escape she never thought possible. Guiding and talking her to that beautiful point of release. A place she’s never been able to reach before.

Not like this. 

Never like this.

And Roman is perceptive, he can see it. Big hands moving up her back, holding her against him, guiding her on top of him. “Come for me, baby.” It’s less a command and more a plea, his voice almost desperate. “Wanna feel you come undone all over me.”

“Mio Dios!”

Solana is squeezing him, her nails pressing into his skin, her head in the crook of his neck as she comes, hard, heavy, overwhelmingly beautiful and chaotic. And his release comes shortly after, Solana enjoying the sensation of his strong, hulking body against hers, the way his face shifts into something so sensual and perfect as he jerks up into her, emptying into the condom.

She’s not sure how long they stay like that, just long enough for her to start feeling him go soft inside her. That’s when he eventually and carefully lifts her off and lays her down on the mattress, Solana panting and staring at the ceiling. She feels the dip in the bed as he gets up, obviously to dispose of the condom.

It’s only then she realizes that the absence of him inside of her is….noticeable.

A tiny bit of her eager to have it again. To have just one more taste of that deliciousness. 

Even if she probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow. 

Or ever.

Roman returns to the room, completely unbothered by his nakedness. She readies for him to climb back in the bed with her, maybe even ask her to leave. 

But, he doesn’t. 

No, he instead moves back to his previous spot at the edge of the bed. Grabbing her by her calves, he starts sliding her down. 

“I told you.” Her pussy flutters as he spreads her thighs, face to face with her swollen, puffy pussy. “I’m gonna make the most of the time we have.” And Solana is already moaning, already anticipating another round of insurmountable pleasure. “Starting with you coming in my mouth at least three more times…..”

—-------

It’s a strange, unexpected experience for a lot of different reasons. One, Roman has never really been one to let women ‘stay’ the night. He gets his nut, she gets her, and he sends her on her merry way.

And while Solana isn’t staying the night, she remains in his bed. And not just for sex. He gets her to come again in his mouth twice more before she pushes him away, citing that she needs a break. 

He gives her that, but what happens next is….unexpected, to say the least. 

Pillow talk. 

It’s fucking pillow talk that’s started by her simply running her fingers along his tattoos, asking what they mean and represent. That’s followed up with him asking her about her tattoos, which leads into literally hours of them just laying in bed….talking.

No sex. 

Just…..conversation, and normally, Roman would shy away from such a thing like the plague. It’s just never been his thing. 

But…..with her…..it’s different.

He enjoys hearing her talk, the things she shares with him, the way her nose crinkles when she laughs, how her eyes light up when she discusses her daughter with so much adoration and love. He enjoys her presence, the fact that she treats him like…..like he’s normal.

Like he’s not who he actually is, a large part of that being because she doesn’t know who he is, and that probably needs to change. Will change. Just not right now.

He just wants to enjoy having someone to talk to, and it’s easy with Solana. He doesn’t have to second guess motives or intentions or wonder about what kind of hint she’ll drop about wanting something materialistically from him like Sam.

It’s just easy.

So much so that he ends up having a bit of a hard time with letting her out of bed as 11:20pm rolls around, with her once again reminding him that she needs to be home by midnight. He understands it though, respects her dedication to putting her daughter first.

It’s still a bit of a drag for him, a sense of almost disappointment that she can’t spend the night.

Again, wholly out of his norm. 

When they pull up in front of the apartment complex, he finds himself asking, “this is your friend’s place, right?”

The driver has just opened the door for her, but she looks back over her shoulder before climbing out. “Yes, why?”

Roman waits until they’re both standing outside, as he pulls her close to him, enjoying the sight of her wearing his jacket around her body. “Do you need me to take ya’ll home?”

With a soft smile that has him thinking once again about how soft her lips feel pressed against his, she answers, “no, we’ll just stay the night here. It’s late. I don’t want to disturb Raya.”

It’s also way too late for her to be on the road, let alone on public transportation with a baby, hence why he offered.

Pleased with at least that, Roman shares without much thought, “I want to see you again.” And again. And again. And again. Her presence is…..calming in a way he’s not used to.

But, he could certainly get used to. 

Mischief sparkles in her pretty eyes. “See me again or see me again?”

“Both.” It’s an honest answer, and Solana knows that. Can see that while he probably desires her sexually as much as she does him, it’s also something different. Something deeper.

It has to be for her to lay in bed with him for hours just talking.

But, she also knows something else, something that she can’t and won’t negate. “Roman, I—I have a child. I can’t—I can’t just sleep around with you like that. I can’t do friends with benefits.”

“I’m not asking you to.” And the honesty continues as he pushes back some of her hair. “I’m just asking you to give this a chance.”

The word this has her stomach tightening as well as the way he’s looking at her. With such authenticity. The same way she’s probably looking at him.

Solana’s volume dips as she shares with just as much honesty. “Soraya is my number one priority.”

He nods. “I respect that.” 

“She comes first.”

“She should.”

Solana grows quiet. It’s hard to find a reason to disagree with someone who’s being so amenable, and really, what would be her basis for disagreeing? She’s grown. He’s grown. He’s acknowledging that he recognizes her daughter will always come first. What more does she really need?

What reason does she have to not give this a chance?

“If we do this….” She takes a deep breath, fingers grasping at the soft material of his shirt. “You can’t be with anyone else. You can’t be sleeping with random woman while you’re fucking me.”

Because she went through that once. Ignored the signs because she wanted to be happy.

Never again.

Especially not when it comes to her health. 

There’s a bit of hesitation on Roman’s end that she partially understands. She highly doubts this was his first one night stand. “That’s fair,” he finally agrees.

Solana can’t hide her surprise at him not throwing the same stipulation back at her. “You don’t want me agreeing to the same thing?”

Roman chuckles and pulls her into him,“ nobody else could fuck you like I can. You know where it’s at. This the only dick you're gonna ever want now.”

Her cheeks are flushed. “You’re arrogant.” 

But not wrong.

And he voices as such. “It’s not arrogance if I can back it up.” She can’t find it in her to disagree or to call him out, because again, there is no disagreement. “I wanna see you this Friday.”

She can’t deny the small spark of excitement at his offer before the weight of reality sets back in. “I was gonna pick up a shift, Roman…..”

He shakes his head, offering, “I’ll give you whatever you’d make on average.” Solana’s eyes widen a bit. It’s one thing that he already snuck a stack of money in her purse when she was redressing to leave. It’s another for him to continue to offer to financially supplement what she would miss out on by being with him.

“Roman, you can’t…..” That’s trailed off by another realization, even if there is still a small smile on her pretty face. “I don’t think I can get a sitter again.”

Another shrug as he says so plainly. “Bring her.” The horrified expression on her face makes him chuckle as he explains, “we won’t fuck. We can go out to eat again and then back to my place. Now, if she happens to fall asleep and we have some time…..”

Solana’s smile remains as he drops his hand to her ass, palming it, reminding her that this man really did keep her underwear. “You’d be okay with that?”

He explains so calmly. “You have a daughter. I’m not going to pretend she doesn’t exist. If we’re going to see where this goes, she has to be included, too.”

It takes her by surprise. The way he’s so easily going along with this. For some reason, Solana always imagined re-entering the dating world would be stressful given her dedication to always putting her child first. Most men these days don’t get that or aren't trying to “deal” with that. And then there’s Roman.

So…..easy.

It’s nice. Very nice. 

“How about this?” She moves her hands up his chest, feeling how he tugs her even closer. “We can go grocery shopping, and I’ll cook dinner for us.”

Roman smirks, looking down at her. “I got you cooking for me already?”

She giggles, reminding him. “I like to cook. It has nothing to do with me wanting to do anything for you.”

“Hmm. That’s fine. There’s a lot of different things I wouldn’t mind doing for you.” She sighs against him as he squeezes her ass again. “Especially to you.”

Solana can’t say she would be opposed to that.

Either of them.

Finally breaking away, she acknowledges, “I need to get inside.”

“Mmmm.”

Her smile is stapled at this point. “Goodnight, Roman.”

His eyes flicker with something. "Goodnight, Solana." She's walking up the steps when she remembers his jacket. Shuffling back over, she attempts to take it off, only for him to reach out and stop her. "Keep it. It's yours." Finger to her chin, Roman rubs his thumb along her still swollen bottom lip. "Just like you're mine now....."

[gothamite-rambler]

Commissioner Gordon Meets the 3rd Robin

Jim Gordon had seen two Robin's at this point and figured out Batman's civilian identity at this point, so him arriving with a third Robin makes him finally tell Batman he knows he's also Bruce Wayne.

Commissioner Gordon waited on the roof for Batman, like he usually did, but this time he could sense something crazy was about to happen more than usual when dealing with a man who wore a leather bat suit.

Batman (hesitant): Commissioner... Gordon.

Gordon turned around and once he saw the new Robin (Tim Drake), he immediately closed his eyes and shook his head like a disappointed father.

Gordon (jaded): You gotta be kidding me.

Batman nodded in agreement.

Batman (ashamed): I'm aware how odd this looks. I can acknowledge the weirdness at this point. To be fair though... I made it clear I didn't want him to be my new Robin. Tell him, Robin.

Robin!Tim (looking at the bat signal): That's the bat signal... I'm next to it!

Batman groaned, covering his his eyes.

Gordon (tight smile): You sure are kid, you sure are... Batman, he looks the same age as the other kid. Nice to meet you, new Robin.

Robin!Tim: Sup Commissioner Gordon, I met your daughter she's pretty cool.

Gordon (accepting all of this): I raised her well, thanks. I like your suit.

Robin!Tim: Thanks, I added pants. It's form fitting, it works.

Batman (not sure how to word his defense): I'm aware that... I said I would not have another Robin but after needing his assistance I... adopted him. Sort of. Okay, this one came to me. I- I can tell by your expression that, that didn't help the situation.

Gordon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Robin!Tim (hands on his hips): I earned this roll, nothing weird about that.

Gordon: Fair point from the third child sidekick. Batman, at this point I'm not even shocked that you have a new Robin and I like his energy, but um... um... Do you have a specific preference for short, black-haired boys?

Batman glanced at Robin then shrugged because he couldn't think of a good response.

Robin!Tim (confused): Why did you phrase it like that?!

Gordon: I have dealt with this man having three robins at this point and yes it's been three because the first one had a different skin tone and was adorable, the second one was funny, but cussed me out at random and you are very pale, but all of them have had black hair... what is going on?!

Batman (exhausted with life): Honestly, it's a very weird coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless. That is the least of the questions you need to ask me at this point.

Gordon (sighing): Fair enough, what's his story?

Robin!Tim: I stay with Batman so he doesn't kill himself or murder so many criminals .

Batman (exhausted): Hn, thank you, Robin... that was what you should tell a police chief.

Gordon: Nah, that's the best answer he could have given me in this situation. Can I talk to you in private real quick, Batman?

Batman: Sure. I'm kind of accepting of this part of my hero life. Robin, um, stand here and don't eavesdrop on our conversation.

Robin!Tim: I don't like standing still for long periods of time... I'm just going to spin around my bo staff while you talk to Commissioner Gordon.

Batman: That works for me.

Batman walked off with Gordon to a corner of the roof, a good distance from Robin. Robin eagerly tossed his bo staff in the air and caught if effortlessly.

Batman: Honestly people call me odd for wearing a bat suit but that is the thing that makes the most sense to me in my life. Plus I look awesome so you can't even critique the suit. You know?

Gordon groans, covering his face and trying to wonder how he should start his next statement.

Batman: I already know you're going to ask me some type of evasive question... go ahead ask it.

Gordon clasped his hands together and takes a deep breath.

Gordon (deadpan): I've known you for a fairly long time and I'm going to cut to the chase... when were you going to ever tell me that you're Bruce Wayne?

Batman (shocked): What? No ... No I'm not.

Gordon: Bruce, don't play dumb, I figured out you are the same person a while ago, but since you haven't 'trusted' me enough to tell and that is the third Robin, I felt it was necessary to remove this weird barrier you have. I'm not going to arrest you or anything, your secret is safe with me. I want an honest answer though, I promise nothing you say here will leave this roof.

Batman buried his head in his hands and let out a defeated groan. He didn't want to admit it, but at this point in his life he simply couldn't keep it secret.

Gordon: That confirmed it. I became suspicious after Barbara got shot. Jason Todd, your adopted son, turning out to be the Robin definitely verified it. Then CPS visited your place to investiage you about child abuse... that was fasinating because you looked panicked that day.

Batman (embarrassed): I can't believe this happening, right now.

Gordon: Hold on, I'm not done yet. The rest of Gotham bought the story that your adopted son somehow became Robin with a random guy who is Batman and you weren't Batman because "Why would someone like Bruce Wayne be Batman?" Freaking Gotham news, you're lucky that they're so believable.

Batman (serious): You're not going to tell anyone are you? I'm going through a lot at the moment.

Gordon patted Batman on the shoulder reassuringly.

Gordon: As I said, your secret will remain that. We've been through these couple of crazy years together, you were there for Barbara when she got shot, and I wasn't too hot about the fact that it was the Joker, but I got over it. You've never given me a reason to arrest you and I've learned to see as a friend. And much like when my daughter told me she's batgirl... I'm fine with it.

Batman remained silent, surprised that the police chief who he had known for over two decades was keeping his civilian identity secret.

Gordon (sincerely): You're my friend, don't worry about it.

Batman: Oh... you see us as friends too? I'm... You said that before, but huh, not really used to this, am I?

Gordon: I go through the same struggles. Do you want to go over the case with him in front of us or I don't know how to handle this, this is like your third Robin.

Gordon laughs as Batman groans embarrassed.

Batman: Yeah this kid is pretty smart so he can be listening in and circle back, Barbara told you she was Batgirl?!

Gordon: Oh yeah, but I figured it out a two years before she had told me. You guys got to remember, I'm a detective.

Batman: This might sound rude, but I did not think you were that good at your job, the police here are very corrupt.

Gordon (nods in agreement): Fair enough, let's head back to the kid and get this case started.

Gordon walked back over to Robin along with Batman. Batman looks dejected but Gordon pats him on the back to give him some type of sympathy.

First

Second

[crookedteethed]

WORLD'S sluttiest assistant | r.c.

[warning] 18+ smut (pinv), oral (m receiving) face fucking, language, abuse of power, degradation, dubcon, porn with little plot, mentions of spit, Dacryphilia

You were always told to knock before entering Mr. Cameron's office, no matter the circumstances.

You wait for his response, your body shaking, not only because of the piping hot coffee (a request from Mr. Cameron) burning your hand but also the fear you feel for whatever lies behind the door in front of you because you know you had fucked up, bad.  

"Come in." you hear him say. His tone rich in annoyance, but what else was new?

You entered his office on his command a wobbling mess.

"Y-your coffee, sir. One black coffee. No sugar or cream.”

You didn't mean to stuttter, it was just something you often found yourself doing in the presence of your boss.

It was his cold cerulean stare that always made you feel so small.

As you walked the coffee to his desk, you made sure to watch your ever step--because even the slightest thing could tick off your boss.

When you placed the coffee on his desk, Rafe was quick to take it, taking one long sip from it. He let out a pleased sigh when he was done.

Then you watched as he stood up from his desk, walked to his glass cabinets, and pulled out a thick cream folder.

Your body tensed as Rafe slowly brought himself to the edge of his desk, nearly inches away from your body.

"Look over this for me." he told you, handing you the cream folder, a condescending smile tugged on his lips.

Instantly, you recognized your work. The same work you did overtime for the night before and left on Rafe's desk.

"What is this?" Rafe asked you when you were done skimming through the folder.

"I-it's the paperwork for our client, Coldwater Creek..." you trail off, unsure whether to continue, as you couldn't tell if this was good news Rafe was hearing or the opposite.

Nonetheless, you continued.

"This paperwork finalizes their demolition process, Sir.”

Rafe hums.

"So, this is the paperwork for Coldwater Creek?" he asked you, which couldn't have been more then a trick question.

You nod anyway.

You watched as Rafe visibly gotten angry, his eyebrows furrowing and is eyes turning wild.

"The same Coldwater Creek we dropped a few weeks ago, correct?”

Rafe stood up from his desk, his tall stature hovering over you like a skyscraper; it was right then that you wanted to kick yourself in the teeth, realizing you had settled the wrong paperwork for the wrong company.

You felt yourself get teary eyed, tears piled up in your tear ducts just waiting to be released.

Rafe continued. "Do you know how pissed the President of Coldwater Creek was to find out one of his branches had gotten demolished by our wrecking crew, Y/n? He'd threaten to sue."

It was the anger in his demeanor but the lack of it in Rafe's tone that made the first tear slip down your cheek.

"Jesus Christ, what are you crying for? This affects me more than it does you." He smacks his teeth.

He sighs.

"You can stop crying because I talked Mr. Cobblestone down, luckily, and he won't sue. However, this means that Cameron Development now has to build a free property for a company that owes us money. Like, Wow, Y/n, do you know what you have done?" He sounds astonished.

"I don't mean to sound rude when I ask you this, but, what the fuck? Are you that much of an idiot, Y/n?" He asks you.

You couldn't tell if he really wanted you to answer the question, but even if you could, you couldn't as you been a standing crying mess in front of him.

"Can you stop fucking crying!" He shouted for the first time, which ironically made you cry even more.

"Shit." Rafe gritted, palming himself. "Get on your fucking knees, now." He commanded, pushing you down by your shoulders and fumbling with his belt buckle and pushing down his slacks.

Rafe doesn't let you process what is even happening before taking your face and slamming his cock down your throat--all nine inches of him, causing a gag to elicit from your mouth. 

A forceful tear escapes from your closed eyes as Rafe brings your head as close as possible to his body to where his cock is pressed deep into the back of your throat.

He stays like this for a moment, sighing and relishing in the feeling of your warm, wet, pathetic mouth taking him whole. 

You stared up at him with pleading, teary eyes--with the occasional "GAK!" that would irrupt from your mouth. 

Then suddenly, Rafe begins getting himself off with your mouth. 

"Fuck, that's it, honey." He cooed, with a fist full of your hair bobbing back and forth. 

"D-do you know how bad this makes my company look, Y/n?" Rafe continued the conversation as if you weren't gagging on his cock right now. 

"Do you have any idea how bad this makes me look?”

Nothing in life could have prepared you for this very moment--giving your boss a bj while he yells at you about how much you'd fuck up. 

You hated yourself for how much you liked this.

Your cunt was dripping by the minute. 

"This makes me and my company look unprofessional. When people think of Cameron Development, they think of me, not a bimbo slut like you." Rafe told you, each thrust growing aggressive.

"Any little fuck up you do, will always get pinned back to me." He said through gritted teeth. "Do you understand that?" 

As Rafe continues to face fuck you, your jaw begins to grow sore, and you can't help but notice the saliva that drips down your chin. 

"Dicks got your tongue? Didn't you hear me?" Rafe had gripped your head. "I said, do you understand me?"

Why did he have to make it so hard on you? 

Pathetically, you nod, hoping he will give you a break. But to your dismay, Rafe said:

"I don't think you do understand me, Y/n. I guess I'll have to show you." 

And before you knew it, Rafe was lifting and bending you over the edge of his glass desk. 

The cool touch of the glass against your skin sent shivers down your spine as he tore through your tights with an almost animalistic urgency.

You could feel the adrenaline building as you surrendered to the moment.

It wasn't long until Rafe was shoving you to the brim with his cock.

Rafe's movements were primal and his grip on your hips were firm, yet possessive, as he held you in place.

Skin-on-skin slapping and quick breaths filled the room.

The sensation of the deep drag of Rafe's thick cock penetrating inside of your cunt had you blurring the lines between pain and ecstasy. 

You could feel the tension building, a delicious pressure that threatened to overwhelm you.

Now and then, Rafe would either degrade you about how much of a dumb slut you were or praise you for having such a tight cunt--which would only add to the tension building in your core. 

It was when you began meeting Rafe with his thrust did he stop insulting you and started focusing on one thing: his sweet release in your cunt. 

With each meeting of your hips, the intensity grew, and Rafe's focus sharpened. His breaths became ragged, and the primal urgency in his movements spoke volumes more than words ever could.

The heat was building up inside of you.

Rafe's grip tightened around your waist, guiding you to match his pace, urging you to meet him thrust for thrust.

With each thrust, Rafe's focus deepened, his eyes locked onto your heart shaped ass with intensity.

As the tension reached its peak, you felt yourself teetering on the brink, the world around you blurring into a whirlwind of pleasure.

Rafe's movements became more urgent, his breaths more frantic, and you knew he was close and the thought of his release sent a thrill through you, pushing you closer to your own climax.

In that moment, nothing else mattered as both you and Rafe came undone.

Rafe's urgent thrusts drove you both to the edge, and as he lost himself in the depths of pleasure, you felt the wave of your climax crashing over you.

It was a powerful release, a culmination of desire that left you breathless and trembling.

And like every time after you had fucked, Rafe was in such a hurry to act like nothing had happened. 

By the time you could strengthen yourself and fix your tattered and bunched clothing, Rafe had already been at his desk and typing away on his laptop, finishing up his coffee. 

And just as you were leaving his office, Mr. Cameron told you: 

"I've seen enough of you today; take the rest of the day off, and come back with your head screwed on right tomorrow."