#if i pulled her i would simply not fumble it up

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

PULL ME IN

summary: due to Bruce distancing himself from reading and seeing other women - batfam has to watch their mom willow away.

pt 2

For the twenty-five years, Bruce and Name have been married together - Alfred has never seen Name so withdrawn - so detached . He watches every morning how Name's frail body maneuvers around the kitchen making her own breakfast -

God knows how many times he's asked that stubborn woman to allow him to cook for him but she has always refused him with a quiet smile and a wave of hand. He watches her glide around the kitchen- a woman of once poise and grace reduced to her fumbling with simply holding a cereal box.

Alfred could never pin point where it had all went wrong in their marriage - they were both high-school sweethearts- their marriage was beautiful- he'd know because he had honored it himself. To see them so distant aches his heart.

Alfred knows Bruce has a mission - to save Gotham- a mission that seems ever lasting - a mission that had consumed him entirely to the point it took him over . It took away his relationship with his kids and his own wife .

Alfred would always shoot him disapproving looks when he sees Bruce being too flirty with Talia and Selina - he blesses Name's heart for loving Damian all the same like she has with all her other kids but Alfred notices since then she is virtual never in the same place with Bruce.

She no longer goes to galas anymore , no longer makes public appearances - maybe its because Bruce always had a different arm candy every other night. It's gotten so bad that even the kids started realizing this - Damian , upon realizing his birth had broken down in Name's arms one night - pleading with her to love him - that he's sorry for being born.

Alfred remembers Name cradling the young boy in her arms all night and assuring him he's the best thing Bruce ever made and that she would never blame him for Bruce's actions. Since then - the young boy has always stuck to Name - every morning, he'd affectionately hand her daily medicine and would always help her wrap a shawl over her shoulders.

Tim and Bruce began arguing - particularly because Bruce starting leaving the massive work of W.E for Tim to handle- it came to a head one night when Name and Bruce argued for two hours straight. He remembered how raw her voice was when she yelled at Bruce for overworked her poor son - that he's young and deserves to live and experience his teenage years.

Bruce had argued that Tim had wanted this - that this was what being Robin was about. Jason- god knows Jason and Bruce doesn't get along - ever since what happened to Joker but they argue even worse when it boils down to Name .

Jason was a child primarily raised by Name - she taught him to trust and showed him everything he knew - down to ironing his shirt to tying his shoelace - Name was the mother Jason never had and God could damn for all he cares but couldn't stand to watch Bruce treat her like she was an option because she wasn't - not to him or his brothers.

Jason always made it a point to call Bruce out for his own hypocrisy, himself and Damian always teamed up against him, especially when he was being too flirty with Selina or some random eye candy.

" I suggest you back off harlot , my mother might not kill you, but I will " - Damian when Bruce and Selina were flirting together on patrol.

" I don't give a fuck if ma begs me not to put a bullet in your head , the next damn time I see you talking about her like that I won't hesitate to skin you alive " - Jason when he caught some arm candy bragging to her friends how the 'Bruce Wayne' took her out on a date in front of Name.

God if anyone argues more with Bruce in this household was Dick - Dick was their first child and a child whom lost everything and yes Bruce may of made him robin but name made him dick grayson - bless that woman's heart for having to deal with his tantrums and outbursts when he was younger -

But that woman despite not birthing him was his mother - the woman who literally hugged him everynight to go to bed , the same woman who made his suit for prom by hand and also the same woman he goes to for advice and comfort - safe to say when he heard what Bruce was doing - they argued non stop-

" For god sake, Bruce, you're destroying us - you're destroying our family, and you don't even care." - Dick when Bruce had called you useless because you couldn't walk up a stairs anymore.

Someone from the outside might think they're dramatic, but ever since Bruce started distancing himself from Name and going out with God knows who , Name has fallen into a deep depression - a type of depression that ensnared them in their deep claws and deprive them of what little happiness and energy they have left.

Most days , Name sits on a swing outside and just exists- barely eats , barely talks anymore - how can they ? How can one fathom to be happy when their own spouse is out cheating on you with different people and to make matter worse the public condones it - even more so enables him.

Always publishing some new article of which new model or actress can become worthy of being Bruce's wife as if she doesn't exist. Alfred swallows as he watches her tonight - they're sat stiffly in a velvet love seat , a faint smile on her face, Damian is resting his head on their shoulder, showing them his latest art piece while quietly talking about his day.

Behind her, jason embraces her in a backhug , head resting on her head - his hands sometimes play with the loose strands. Tim quietly sits beside her , his hand holding her free hand - now and again he'd squeeze it . Dick is sat next to Damian on the love seats' arm rest as he prepares her nightly medicine.

Even if the public and her own husband loathes her, name still has the love of her kids and Alfred as always. Suddenly, the large oak doors of the living room are pushed open - the vibrant warmth interrupted as Bruce steps inside .

Damian quiets - everyone looking at Bruce except for Name - she has taken it to state at her hands. " It's time for patrol" Bruce says grufly . No one responds but reluctantly leaves Name side , Jason side hugs her one last time before leaving .

" Yeah, whatever you say, geaser," He says as he shoves Bruce out of his way to go to the cave . Damian glares at his father , " Hopefully, things are taken seriously on this patrol " he insinuated- knowing eyes glaring right at his father disapproving.

Bruce ignores them and stares at name, " Make dinner before we leave " he orders before promptly walking away. Name says nothing - too numbed out a long while to even react. Dick and Alfred himself curses him while Tim is glaring at the closing door harshly .

" Ma I'll order us something don't stress yourself " Tim assures her while ordering Uber eats for them on his phone . Name doesn't say anything but sends him a small smile. " I can't believe I raised that boy," Alfred murmurs as he shakes his head in disappointment .

Bruce may not realize it now but it's too late to fix anything - too late to pull his wife back in and live the happy life they once had - its too late to repair their broken family since the glue that's stuck them all together is fading away .

ty for reading, please like + comment + share !!!

pls do not hate a on queens talia & selina they won't do this , theyre too girlboss for bruce anyways

[personapeters]

𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝

— a rafe cameron one shot

✰ when y/n gets her boyfriend to partake in a viral tiktok trend.

rating: sfw — cw: none

anyone who had a phone and internet access knew of the viral couple’s trend, and y/n was no exception. endless sickeningly sweet videos flooded her feed of men effortlessly lifting their girlfriends onto their shoulders, some ending with them toppling over into a heap of laughter; it left a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach and she, too, wanted the first hand experience.

she knew rafe better than anyone; being recorded doing some silly trend for the world to see simply wasn’t something he’d be willing to do. despite that fact, she knew it wouldn’t hurt too terribly to propose the idea. so, with little hesitation, she made her request known.

“rafe?” she quipped from her place on the couch, her legs draped lazily over her boyfriends lap. “hm?” he hummed, his attention momentarily glued to the phone in his hand as he finished a text. “can we, maybe, try something?” she asked, watching as he completed his typing before tossing the device onto the coffee table with a clank.

“what’s that?” he mumbled, running a hand up her bare leg and resting it on her thigh, lightly squeezing as he gazed at her. “before you say no, just hear me out, okay?” she asked, his face quirking at the request. he nodded his head in a way that prompted her to continue, so she did.

“i wanna see if you can lift me,” she informed simply, to which rafe’s brows rose in question. “if i can lift you?” he clarified with a mild confusion, “y’know i can — do it all the time.”

“no, i mean, like—,” she fumbled with her phone for a moment, tapping at the screen before turning it to face him, “it’s for a video thing… like this.” he watched intently as a couple performed the ‘lift’ in reference and his face contorted to one of scrutiny.

“why?” he questioned, genuinely not understanding the appeal. “i don’t know, looks fun — it’s cute,” y/n mumbled with a shrug, gradually becoming less enthused. “looks kinda dumb,” he muttered honestly, completely disconnected from the internet and it’s need for spontaneous niches. “oh,” y/n spoke quietly as she stared down at the device — maybe he was right.

rafe noticed the shift in her demeanor instantly, his heart squeezing as she slouched against the armrest of the couch, a small pout pulling at her lips that she tried to fight against. he felt a pang of guilt in his chest, hating how filter-less his mouth could be. he didn’t mean come off as cold and dismissive, but he knew that he did, and often does; he also knew that he needed to fix it.

“okay, come on,” he sighed, patting her thigh before sliding her legs off his. “what?” she asked in surprise, her eyes following him as he stood. “let’s do it,” he shrugged, holding out a hand for her to take. immediately, a bright smile flooded her face as she wrapped her digits around his larger palm. “really?” she beamed as he pulled her to her feet. “yeah, i just— is that it?” he motioned to the phone in her grasp, “i just pick you up?”

“yeah,” she nodded enthusiastically with a grin, her eyes glistening as she did so and rafe couldn’t help but let his lips mimic her own. “alright, go set it up,” he instructed as he peered down at her, softly patting her hip in encouragement. she obliged quickly, propping her phone up on the coffee table and setting a timer to count them down from thirty, hoping that would allot them enough time to prepare.

“please don’t drop me,” she laughed as rafe situated his large hands around her waist, his long fingers nearly touching each other at the center of her stomach. “i’d never,” he scoffed with a soft smile, “just tell me when.”

“almost,” she muttered as she watched the numbers descend on the screen, “okay-okay, three, two, one.” instantly, she felt the hold on her body tighten as rafe effortlessly lifted her through the air; she didn’t need to jump in assistance, nor did he grunt or struggle in the slightest, carrying her gracefully as though she was a feather. she instinctively gripped his wrists as a squeal left her mouth, a melodic stream of laughter following as he propped her onto his shoulder, her body fitting perfectly on the broad surface.

the recording ended and the song looped softly in the background as rafe carefully slid her down his body, his hands resting underneath her arms as he lowered her to the ground. as soon as her feet hit the floor, she padded over to watch the perfectly imperfect recording — the framing was off, seeing as rafe was too tall to fit, and she didn’t lip-sync to the lyrics as most others had, but none of that mattered in the slightest.

“look,” she grinned, holding the phone out for rafe to see. he smiled fondly down at her, his eyes flickering between her face as she watched the clip and the clip itself. admittedly, he enjoyed participating, enjoying even more how giddy she was about it. “i see,” he assured with a small smile, his focus primarily on his happy girl as he rested a hand on her hip, rubbing small circles on the bone.

“i love it,” she gushed, ecstatic to have something so sweet and silly of herself and her boyfriend that she just knew she would watch over and over and over again. “good,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, the moment being interrupted when his phone rang out — a call he was expecting.

“i’ve gotta take this,” he informed, running his fingers under the hem of her shirt and softly grazing the skin before breaking the contact. he grabbed the cell from it’s place on the table, answering it with a hushed greeting before exiting the room, leaving y/n to rewatch their video again with a cheek-aching grin; her man was in-fact very jacked and oh-so kind (but only ever for her).

 personapeters 2024 — all rights reserved • masterlist

[starrdream]

Years

Anakin Skywalker x f!reader summary: Anakin sees you for the first time after a decade includes: SMUT, oral(f receiving), slight praise

Months turned into years-ones that seemed to last longer than they should, ones that stretched beyond time. He hadn't forgotten. No. He couldn't and he simply never will. That was something he made peace with long before it was over.

How could he? How does one forget something so pure, innocent and beautiful? How could he erase the happiest memories that could never be remade?

Every detail was crystal clear in his mind. Partially because he kept replaying various situations in his head every night, partially because he couldn't forget.

And even if he could, why would he? Why would he forget those eyes full of life? The laughter? The things he felt? No, he definitely didn't want to forget that.

Anakin Skywalker's life had been haunted by the past for the last 11 years. 11 years of melancholy, 11 years of longing, yearning...

So seeing you again was like a punch to the gut.

The small and rebellious Senator's daughter was no more. She was long gone, together with Anakin's memories. Instead she was replaced by something even more beautiful and dear.

You were the same age as him, yet so much more mature, more serious than him. He didn't want to acknowledge your beauty in fear of betraying what the Jedi had been teaching him for the last decade.

He never would've thought you'd be back but there you were, walking into the Jedi Temple with your father and a few guards on each side of you.

He was breathless, standing on one of the balconies as Snips talked his ear off.

"Ooo, who's that? She's pretty." She interrupts herself mid sentence, leaning against the railing and looks down at you.

"Yeah-I...I don't know." Anakin fumbled. "Let's go back to training."

"Whatever, you're so annoying." She rolls her eyes.

The next few hours are a blur-he was preoccupied but constantly thinking of you. His mind was a mess and he ended his lightsaber technique session with Ahsoka early.

The poor boy sat down in one of the many benches that filled the halls and leaned his head back against the cool tile walls. He takes a deep breath and relaxes further as the sun illuminates his face.

Seconds later, his peace is interrupted by a door opening and slamming shut. He cracks his eyes open, wincing slightly as they adjust to the sun.

His breath catches and he sits up straight because you come out the seemingly occupied room. His eyes widen in awe but you don't seem to notice him, not at first.

Just a few seconds later your eyes meet and he stands up before he could even think.

"Ani?" You whisper-shouted. "My goodness!" You smiled.

"Y/n.." He mumbled, smiling softly himself. "I missed you..."

The minute he's close to you, you hug him tight, burying your head in his shoulder as you practically knock the air out of his lungs.

"My, my..." He chuckles, hugging you back with a little less intensity, afraid he'll hurt you. "What're you here for?" He pulls away, keeping his shaky hands on your upper arms.

"My dad was called for some negotiations and decided to bring me along. Perfect opportunity to look at houses." You shrugged.

His eyebrows furrowed. "Sorry, houses?"

"We're probably gonna move back." You shrug happily.

His mouth drops open before he smiles so brightly and happily. "You're joking." Anakin shook his head. This was the moment he didn't even want to imagine in fear of waking up disappointed because it's not real.

"I'm serious!" You nudge him playfully. "I have to go now, but feel free to come by the guest rooms tonight if you wanna catch up."

And just like that you were pulling away like you did all those years ago, hurriedly walking off to wherever you were going.

"May the force be with you!" He called out to you.

"May the force be with you too!"

Anakin stood there stunned for a good minute before deciding to go back to his room and finish what he had left to do, all while grinning to himself like an idiot.

Each minute that passed until he could see you again felt like a minute closer to his prayers being answered. And in some ways, they were.

Because 4 hours after first seeing you, Anakin was kissing his way down your body. His hands grope your tits as he trails further south, kissing under your chest, your stomach, your hip and finally latching his mouth onto your center.

His hands find their way to your hips to keep you in place.

Slowly, he licks all the way up, nose is rubbing against your clit. Your hands immediately reach for his hair, gently wrapping your fingers around the soft curls.

"Anakin-" You breathe out, back arching. He gently lifts your thighs and carefully places them over his strong shoulders.

"Mmm..." He hums against you "You're doing so good baby..." He mumbles, the sound muffled.

Your hands tighten, pulling his hair in desperation for more.

"My favorite Senator.." He teased, chuckling against you and making you squirm.

"Ani.." You whined, pulling his head closer despite your protest seconds prior.

His hands are doing a great job at stimulating you further-rubbing your thighs and stomach. Gently, almost innocently, Anakin's thumb makes it's way to your clit-rubbing slow, yet firm circles in time with his tongue.

You squirm above him, walls clenching around his tongue. "A-ani..gonna cum.." You rasp out.

"Mhm.." He encouragess, tone pleased and pace not faltering for a second.

A moment later, your inner thighs are squeezing his head as you whimper repeatedly and desperately, coming undone on his tongue.

Anakin takes his sweet time in prolonging your pleasure, lazily suckling and kissing on you without a care in the world. And when he does pull away, he wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. Then, he throws himself on top of you and kisses you sensless before falling asleep cuddled up on your chest

A/N: May the fourth be with everyone reading this!!! I’ve decided to take a break until June first because i REALLY need to lock in and study I have a bazillion tests coming up😭😭. I’ll try my best to make time and post at least a few works but no promises.

As for when I do get back, I have a new series coming up..👀

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Could I request where pierre and Kika forget their daughters school performance so while every other kid is going to their parents the daughter is just stood their waiting to the where the teacher had to call them and the daughter ignores them until they get home. I know it’s long sorry but if you could do it that would be great ❤️

Forgotten in the rain

The rain had started in a soft drizzle but quickly became a steady pour that drummed against the school’s windows. Inside the assembly hall, the walls echoed with the excited chatter of children and the proud applause of parents. Flashbulbs popped every few seconds as moms and dads documented every smile, every wave, every bow.

Except for one little girl who stood near the back of the room.

Yn clutched her damp paper certificate, its corners curling slightly. She had performed a poem about the seasons—her voice clear, her hands animated. Her teacher, Miss Carter, had told her she’d done wonderfully. The kind of performance that deserved a bouquet, a warm hug, a proud parent grinning from ear to ear. But instead, she stood alone, eyes scanning every adult that walked in, every couple that greeted their child with open arms.

Her dress was a soft pastel pink, chosen by her mother, Kika, two days ago. Her curly brown hair was pulled into two neat braids, and her small boots were now soaked at the soles from pacing near the entrance.

She looked at the clock again.

7:12 PM.

Miss Carter finally noticed the way Yn’s smile had faded. The teacher walked over with a kind smile, kneeling beside her.

"Sweetheart, are you still waiting for someone?"

Yn nodded silently. Her eyes were bright, but her jaw was set.

Miss Carter’s heart ached. "Do you want to come wait in my classroom while I call your parents?"

"Okay," Yn whispered.

---

Pierre glanced at his phone as he sank deeper into the couch, his legs stretched over the coffee table. "Did we ever finish that bottle of wine from last week?"

"The red one? Yeah, I think I did on Tuesday," Kika replied from the kitchen, reaching for a handful of olives.

Pierre sighed dramatically. "We’re such adults. Drinking wine on a Tuesday night."

Kika chuckled, walking into the living room. "What time is it?"

"Just past seven. Why?"

She froze.

Pierre noticed it immediately. "What?"

"Pierre."

"What?"

"Oh my god, Yn’s school performance."

He shot up. "Shit."

She grabbed her phone, nearly fumbling it in her panic. Two missed calls. One voicemail.

"It’s Miss Carter," she said, already pressing play.

Pierre ran a hand through his hair, groaning. "We’re the worst parents."

The message played:

"Hi, this is Miss Carter from Willowbrook Primary. I just wanted to check in—it’s a little past seven, and Yn is still here. She had such a wonderful performance tonight, but it seems no one came to pick her up. I’ll keep her in my classroom until you arrive. Please give me a call back."

Kika was already pulling on her coat. "Let’s go."

---

The ride to the school was painfully silent. Pierre kept glancing at the clock, tapping the steering wheel. Kika sat with her arms crossed, her foot bouncing with guilt.

They found Miss Carter standing by the school doors, holding an umbrella over Yn.

Yn wasn’t crying. She wasn’t pouting. She wasn’t doing anything. She simply stood there, looking small and still, like a little statue in a rainstorm.

When she saw them, her face didn’t light up.

Pierre jumped out first. "Baby, I’m so sorry—"

She didn’t move toward him.

Kika tried. "Yn, we—"

But the child just turned back to Miss Carter. "Thank you for waiting with me."

Miss Carter smiled gently. "You were very brave, sweetheart. I’m proud of you."

Pierre stepped forward, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can we take you home now, bébé?"

Yn gave a tiny nod and walked toward the car without saying another word.

---

The drive home was colder than the rain outside. Kika turned to speak a few times but couldn’t find the right words. Pierre tried to hold Yn’s hand, but she pulled it away slowly, not harshly, but pointedly.

Once they arrived home, Yn unbuckled her seatbelt herself, climbed out, and walked straight into the house.

Pierre and Kika followed.

"Yn, baby, please, talk to us," Kika pleaded, dropping her keys on the counter.

Yn headed straight for her room.

"Sweetheart," Pierre tried, his voice cracking.

No response. She closed her door behind her with a quiet finality.

Kika sat on the couch, hands covering her face. "I feel like I just broke her heart."

Pierre sat beside her, shoulders slumped. "We really messed up."

"It wasn’t just a show, Pierre. She told us every day this week. She made invitations. She left them on the fridge."

He closed his eyes. "And we just... forgot."

They didn’t sleep much that night.

---

The next morning, Pierre was already in the kitchen by 6:30, trying to make pancakes the way Yn liked them—thin, buttery, with a swirl of strawberry syrup in a heart shape. Kika was chopping fruit, glancing at the hallway every few minutes.

At 7:10, the door creaked open.

Yn walked in, dressed in her school uniform, backpack already on. She looked fresh and neat, as if nothing had happened.

"Good morning," Kika tried, voice careful.

"Hi," Yn replied without looking at them. She opened the fridge, grabbed her lunchbox, and set it in her bag.

"We made you pancakes," Pierre offered.

"I’m not hungry."

The rejection hit harder than expected.

"Yn," Kika tried again, kneeling down, "we are so, so sorry. There’s no excuse. We forgot something really important, and you didn’t deserve that."

Yn met her eyes. "You didn’t come. Everyone else had someone. Even Noah’s dad came, and he works at the hospital."

Pierre approached slowly. "We know. And we feel awful."

"You always say I’m the most important thing," she whispered. "But you forgot me."

Kika’s eyes filled with tears. "You are the most important thing, baby girl. We just—our brains were stupid. We got busy, and we didn’t write it down, and that’s not your fault. It’s ours."

Pierre knelt beside her. "We hurt your feelings. And we’re not asking you to forgive us today. But we want you to know we’re sorry. And we’re going to do better."

Yn looked at both of them, her lips trembling.

"I stood in the rain by myself," she murmured.

"I know, mon coeur. I know," Pierre said, hugging her gently. "And it breaks me."

Finally, Yn leaned into him.

Kika joined the embrace, holding them both tightly. "We love you more than anything."

"Even more than the red wine?" Yn asked, voice muffled in Pierre’s chest.

Pierre laughed through a sniffle. "A thousand times more."

"Even more than your phone, Mama?"

Kika smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "So much more. You’re my whole heart."

Yn finally smiled.

"Can I still have pancakes?"

Pierre stood. "Absolutely. Even if we’re late to school, pancakes are happening."

As they sat together at the table, the storm from the night before seemed to pass, replaced by the simple warmth of shared forgiveness, strawberry syrup, and a heart-shaped apology made of batter.

And from that day on, every calendar in their house—paper, digital, and even the whiteboard on the fridge—had one line written across the top:

"Yn comes first. Always."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🤍🦢

[amxritt]

Wrong Code

Tim Bradford x f!reader

summary: after a home security mix-up Y/n lands herself in a holding cell

part 2 — lattes

word count: 1.4k words

warnings: wrongful arrest, fluff

It was supposed to be a chill morning. y/n was in her sweatpants, hair in a loose braid, and slippers as she padded up to her friend’s house. She was dog sitting for the week while her friend was away shooting for a new movie. She was happy to get a break from the chaos of her job, or so she thought.

y/n typed the code into the keypad next to the front door.

Beep. Beep. Error.

Weird.

She tried again.

Beep. Error.

Panic started to fizz under her skin. She was sure this was the right code.

The alarm went off—blaring, screeching, end-of-the-world kind of loud.

“Oh my god,” y/n muttered, fumbling with her phone and the slip of paper with the override code on it. Her fingers were shaking. “It’s fine, it’s fine…”

It was not fine.

The alarm company had already pinged the LAPD. Neighbors peeked out of windows, one of them already on the phone. And then—

Flashing red and blue lights.

A black-and-white cruiser pulled up, and outstepped two officers. y/n froze mid-button press.

“Ma’am,” Bradford called out, hand near his holster. “Step away from the door. Put your hands where I can see them.”

“I live here!” she yelped, then immediately corrected herself. “No—I don’t live here. I’m dog sitting! My friend’s an actress! She’s in—where is she filming? Italy? No, no—France! It’s in France—”

Chen raised a brow. Bradford was already walking toward her, expression unreadable. “Ma’am, we have a report of a suspected break-in. I need you to stay calm.”

“I am calm,” y/n lied, hands shaking as she gestured to her slippers. “Would a burglar wear slippers? These are bunny slippers!”

“Regardless, we’ll have to take you into custody until we can confirm your story,” Bradford said, matter-of-fact. “You have the right to remain—”

“Wait!” Y/n blurted. “Can I at least let the dog out first? He hasn’t been out since last night and I really don’t want him to pee on the couch.”

Tim blinked. It was the kind of request no perp ever made.

He looked at Chen. She gave him a “don’t-look-at-me” shrug.

“Make it quick,” he muttered, unlocking the door.

y/n dashed in, the dog—a fluffy golden retriever named Henry—bounding up to her in joy. “Hi, baby!” she cooed, then opened the back door. Henry zoomed outside, tail wagging, barking at the wind.

Bradford watched her carefully, arms crossed, but something in his stern face had shifted. Just a little.

“He needs to run a bit or he’s going to go stir crazy,” she pleaded, throwing a tennis ball for Henry. “Please. My friend won’t be back for days. I swear, if she would just pick up—”

“You have five minutes,” Bradford relented, jaw still tight.

She looked at him gratefully, cheeks flushed, and that was when he really noticed her. The way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. The messy braid. The oversized sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder. She didn’t look like a criminal. She looked… soft. Real.

Eventually, she returned inside, scooping up Henry’s water bowl and refilling it. “Alright,” she said, voice small. “Let’s go.”

Tim gently took her wrist. “Sorry, but we still have to cuff you.”

“Even if I’m cooperating?”

“Policy.”

“Ugh,” she muttered, holding her wrists out dramatically. “Do what you must, Officer Serious.”

—

Six hours. That’s how long y/n say in the holding cell.

Her one phone call? Straight to voicemail.

By the fifth hour, even Officer Chen had brought her a granola bar and an apologetic look. “We’re really sorry,” she said softly. “We know it’s a mistake, but we have to follow protocol.”

Y/n sighed, head in her hands.

At hour six, the holding cell buzzed open and Bradford appeared.

“She called,” he said simply, unlocking the door. “You’re good to go.”

Y/n stood, rubbing her wrists, eyes wide with exhaustion and relief. “Thank God.”

—

Outside the station, she stood on the sidewalk, phone clutched in her hand, waiting for her Uber.

Bradford’s truck pulled up instead.

“Need a ride?” he asked through the open window. “Figured it’s the least i can do.”

She eyed him. “You’re off-duty?”

“Clocked out ten minutes ago.”

“Then…yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

—

They pulled up to her friend’s place twenty minutes later. y/n punched the code perfectly and gave him a pointed look as the door clicked open.

“See?” she teased. “I do know the code.”

Tim shook his head, amused.

“You hungry?” she asked suddenly, turning in the doorway.

He hesitated. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Come on. You arrested me. You can at least let me feed you. If she has anything edible in here.”

They ended up cooking pasta together—well. y/n cooked, Tim let the dog out again and insisted on washing the dishes. They sat side by side at the kitchen bar, laughing and sharing stories.

“So, be honest… do you secretly judge people by how they parallel park?” y/n asked with a slight smirk.

Tim raised an eyebrow, and gave a small chuckle, “Depends. Are we talking ‘can’t park within the lines’ or ‘curb it like they’re drunk’?”

“I mean, the ones who do a 12-point turn to squeeze into a space that’s basically a football field,” y/n replied in a playful tone, “because I nailed it in two moves out front, and I feel like I deserve some kind of medal or something.”

“Is that so?” Tim laughed lightly in response.

“It is!” she exclaimed as they both broke out laughing.

As they came down from their laughter, she leaned a little closer. “You know,” she said, voice warm, “you’re kind of cute when you’re not arresting people.”

He raised a brow. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

A pause.

Then Tim looked her dead in the eyes. “Go out with me.”

y/n blinked. “Like, on a date?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, honest and direct.

She grinned, eyes lighting up. “Only if you promise not to arrest me again.”

“No promises.”

They both laughed—and when he leaned in, she didn’t pull back.

The kiss was soft. Unhurried. Like maybe this was the start of something neither of them had planned—but weren’t about to run from either.

[chrissssssmut]

Reader gets sold at a slave auction by Nayeon and Jihyo. Once they arrive at the girls shared penthouse the girls give the reader an option, Submit willingly or The girls make him submit the hard way. Some smut would make it better

SIGNED TO SUBMIT

Dom!Nayeon & Dom!Jihyo x Sub!Male Reader

Tags: titfucking, orgasm control, heavy edging, teasing, double dom, powerplay, degradation, cumshot, cum on tits, cum on mouth, rough sex, messy

You remember the sound of the contract being stamped. Official. Heavy. Final. The auction might’ve been just symbolic, some weird, elite kink club ritual — but the moment Nayeon whispered “Sold” in your ear, you knew you were theirs. You had signed up for this. You had wanted this.

...You just didn’t realize what this would feel like.

The penthouse door clicked shut behind you. Luxurious. Silent. A few steps inside and your shirt was already being pulled off.

“Clothes off,” Jihyo said simply, standing by the window, backlit by the city. Her tone didn’t rise — didn’t need to. Her presence filled the room more than her voice ever could.

Nayeon was behind you, smirking, lips brushing your ear.

“You heard her,” she whispered, dragging a finger down your spine. “Unless you want me to rip them off. I wouldn’t mind.”

You quickly started undressing. Nayeon giggled, watching you fumble with your belt.

“So obedient already?” she teased. “Didn’t even need the leash yet.”

“I like that,” Jihyo said, approaching. She looked you over once — then ran her fingers through your hair, tugging gently but firmly, tilting your head up to meet her gaze. “But we still need to be sure. So I’ll ask once, and only once.”

Her voice dropped, husky. Dominant.

“Do you submit to us?”

Your breath hitched. You nodded. She raised an eyebrow.

“Words.”

“I submit,” you murmured. “To both of you.”

Nayeon gave a delighted hum and slid her arm around your chest from behind, nails lightly scratching. “Then we’ll take such good care of you, baby,” she purred. “Just… our way.”

They led you to the bedroom. Clean lines. Velvet sheets. A single, black velvet box on the bed.

“On your knees,” Jihyo said. You obeyed.

Nayeon opened the box — inside, a thick leather collar, a single silver ring in the center. She held it in front of your face like a gift and a threat.

“This is your last chance,” she said, eyes gleaming. “Once this goes on, we play for real. You obey. You beg. You take what we give.”

“And you don’t cum,” Jihyo added smoothly, crossing her arms. “Not unless one of us gives permission. Understood?”

You swallowed.

“Yes. I understand.”

Click.

The collar was fastened. Tight, but not uncomfortable. Heavy. Real.

“Good boy,” Nayeon whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Now the fun starts.”

You were on your back, wrists bound to the bedposts. Nayeon straddled your stomach, wearing nothing but thigh-highs and a silk robe that barely stayed on her shoulders. She trailed a riding crop across your chest.

“Jihyo says I can’t break you yet,” she pouted, flicking your nipple lightly. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t make you beg.”

Jihyo stood by the foot of the bed, arms folded, watching.

“Nayeon,” she warned. “He gets three strikes. Don’t be the reason he fails test one.”

Nayeon’s smirk widened. “Oh, he’ll fail. But I won’t.”

You gasped as the crop struck your inner thigh — not hard, just sharp. Teasing. Nayeon leaned down, brushing her lips over your ear again.

“I want to hear how badly you want it,” she whispered. “I want you to cry for it.”

Her hand wrapped around your cock — slow, deliberate strokes, her thumb cruelly avoiding the tip just when you needed it most.

“You feel that?” she asked sweetly. “That ache? That’s mine now.”

You moaned. She didn’t stop. Just kept edging, stroking, teasing. Every time you twitched too close, she stopped. Laughed. Slapped your thigh.

“Not yet,” she’d say. “Beg prettier.”

“Please,” you groaned, hips bucking.

“Strike one,” Jihyo said coolly from the corner. “No thrusting. He knows better.”

You froze. Nayeon giggled and flicked your cock with the crop. “Ooh, naughty. She’s gonna punish you for that.”

Jihyo moved to the bed. Her presence changed the air. She leaned down and gripped your jaw.

“Color?” she asked, voice low.

“Green,” you breathed.

She nodded — then smacked your cheek. Not hard. Not painful. Just possessive.

“You’ll learn,” she murmured, crawling over you. “Tonight, you learn who you belong to.”

She slid her soaked panties down and straddled your face.

“Lick.”

You did.

You had no idea how long it had been. Your face was covered in Jihyo’s slick, your body trembling from Nayeon’s relentless edging. The room spun. You couldn’t think.

Nayeon was whispering filth into your ear, jerking you off with cruel, slow strokes. Jihyo sat on your chest, feeding you her fingers.

“You want to cum?” Nayeon cooed. “Beg Jihyo.”

“Beg me properly,” Jihyo said. “Or I’ll edge you until sunrise.”

You sobbed. “Please. I need to. I’ve been good. I need it. Please, Mistress—please.”

They shared a glance.

Nayeon smiled. “Aww. He called you Mistress first. How cute.”

“Let him,” Jihyo said.

Nayeon leaned down, lips brushing yours.

“Cum for us, baby.”

You exploded. Loud. Messy. Shaking.

And Nayeon didn’t stop.

“Oh, did I say once?” she said sweetly. “Oops. Guess we’ll go again.”

Your body wasn’t yours anymore.

It belonged to them—every inch, every twitch, every pathetic whimper ripped from your throat by the lips, hands, and voices of the two women who owned you.

You didn’t know how long it had been since Nayeon fastened the collar around your neck. Time blurred under their touch. There were no clocks in the penthouse bedroom. Only Jihyo’s commanding presence and Nayeon’s cruel smirk. Only their bodies. Their orders. Their game.

You were their toy, strung up on satin sheets, wrists bound to the corners of the headboard, legs spread wide. Naked. Hard. Dripping.

And they were still nowhere near done with you.

Nayeon dragged a single fingernail along your thigh, her pink tongue flicking across her lower lip. “Still hard,” she murmured with delight, looking up at you from between your legs. “You’re more obedient than I expected.”

“More desperate, you mean,” Jihyo said coolly from the chaise by the window. She hadn’t touched you in over twenty minutes—she didn’t need to. Her gaze alone kept you squirming. “Look at the way he’s panting. He’s starving.”

Nayeon giggled. “Aww. Poor puppy.” She leaned in, her breath ghosting over your cock. “How many times did I edge you already? Four? Five?”

You swallowed hard. “S-six, Miss…”

“Good boy,” she purred, giving your tip a slow, wicked lick. “You can count.”

From the other side of the room, Jihyo’s voice rang out—calm but absolute.

“Don’t you dare cum.”

Your entire body tensed.

“I-I won’t.”

“You better not,” Nayeon said, pumping your shaft with two fingers, wet and sloppy. “Because if you do…” She grinned and pressed her cheek to your thigh. “We’ll ruin you.”

Nayeon dragged her tongue along the underside of your cock, featherlight, teasing. Her pace was torturous—long licks, soft sucks, just enough stimulation to drive you insane. Every time your hips tried to buck, she’d pull away and slap your thigh.

“Don’t move,” she warned, sing-song and cruel. “Only good boys stay still.”

Jihyo finally rose from her seat and made her way toward the bed, her robe sliding off her shoulders. She climbed on slowly, her movements regal, unhurried—like a queen inspecting her property.

She straddled your chest, hair cascading over her shoulders, then leaned forward until her lips were just above your ear.

“Are you suffering?” she whispered.

“Yes,” you breathed, trembling. “So much…”

“Good.”

She moved forward without another word, planting her knees on either side of your head and settling her heat right over your mouth.

“Open.”

You obeyed instantly. Her taste overwhelmed you. You moaned into her, tongue working desperately as she began to grind down, slow and commanding.

Below, Nayeon took you fully into her mouth—warm, wet, suffocating. Your legs jerked.

“Strike two,” Jihyo said calmly, hips rolling. “We said no bucking.”

The sensation was unbearable—your cock throbbing in Nayeon’s mouth while Jihyo’s pussy smothered your face. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. All you could do was feel.

Nayeon bobbed her head slowly, humming. Her hands pinned your thighs down while she hollowed her cheeks and edged you right to the brink—again.

And again.

And again.

You cried into Jihyo, tongue still working even as your muscles twitched and your brain screamed.

“I can feel you,” Nayeon murmured between sucks. “You’re right there, aren’t you?”

“Hold it,” Jihyo demanded, fingers tangling in your hair. “Or you’ll regret it.”

You tried. God, you tried.

But then Nayeon did one thing differently.

She moaned.

A single, sweet, guttural sound that vibrated through her throat—and that was it.

You snapped.

Your orgasm hit like lightning—hot, fast, impossible to stop. You groaned into Jihyo’s folds, helpless as your cock pulsed and spilled down Nayeon’s throat.

She pulled back with a pop, and a string of cum snapped between her lips and your tip.

“Oh my god,” she said gleefully. “He came. He actually came.”

Jihyo pulled off your face slowly, licking her lips.

“Did he really?”

You nodded weakly, chest heaving.

“I… I’m sorry…”

Nayeon giggled, licking your cum off her fingers like frosting. “That wasn’t permission, puppy.”

Jihyo’s eyes darkened.

“That was a mistake.”

They untied you, only to flip you onto your stomach, your body still twitching from the orgasm. Nayeon climbed onto your back, pinning you there with her weight as she leaned down, her lips against your ear.

“You’re not getting another one tonight,” she whispered, dragging her nails down your spine. “Not unless we say.”

“And you’re going to learn what it really means to wear that collar,” Jihyo added, wrapping a leash around it and giving it a light tug.

Nayeon reached around to cup your oversensitive cock.

“Still hard,” she marveled. “Perfect.”

She gave it a stroke.

You screamed.

“Aw, did that hurt?” she asked sweetly. “Good.”

Last night, you were theirs.

No—you were wrecked. Stripped bare, physically and mentally. Orgasm denied, pushed to the brink, and then… punished. They had reduced you to nothing but moans, apologies, and heat.

You remembered Nayeon's giggles as she slapped your cock when you whimpered from overstimulation. Jihyo's palm on your ass, the way she muttered, "You're learning."

Eventually, it ended.

Your body collapsed in their arms. They cleaned you. Draped a silk robe over your sore frame. Jihyo whispered, “Good boy,” as she adjusted your collar and pulled you into her chest. Nayeon cuddled behind, her hands tracing the marks she left on your thighs like a sculptor admiring her own work.

That was the last thing you remembered.

You woke up tangled between their bodies.

Nayeon was already awake, phone in hand, casually scrolling through pictures of you from the night before. Her smirk widened when she noticed your eyes flutter open.

“Morning, baby,” she said sweetly. “Sleep well after cumming without permission?”

Your throat was dry. “Yes… Miss.”

She reached over and tugged the leash still clipped to your collar.

“You’re not off the hook. You’ll pay for it today.”

You felt Jihyo stir behind you. She rolled over slowly, her arm draping across your waist. Still drowsy, she nuzzled into your shoulder.

“He needs food first,” she murmured. “We broke him last night. Let him eat. Then we break him again.”

Nayeon sighed dramatically. “Ugh, fine. I’ll cook. But don’t think this means you’re safe.”

She leaned over and kissed your temple.

“You’re just in the eye of the storm.”

They let you rest. You ate. Showered. And for a few hours, it almost felt like they’d forgotten you were their plaything.

Until Jihyo stepped back into the bedroom with nothing but a towel over her chest and gave a single order:

“Kneel.”

You dropped instantly to your knees.

She let the towel fall.

Her full breasts bounced softly as she walked toward you. “Good. Now crawl to the bed.”

Your knees hit the carpet.

“Slower,” Nayeon said from the doorway, arms crossed, robe barely clinging to her shoulders. “I want to watch him struggle.”

You made it to the edge of the bed, heart racing. Jihyo sat down, spreading her legs, guiding your head between her soft thighs. You expected to be smothered again.

Instead, she grabbed your hair, leaned back, and cupped her breasts.

“I want you between these.”

She spit on them first—slow, messy—then squeezed her tits together and gave a single nod.

“Put your cock between them.”

You stood shakily, cock already half-hard. She guided it between the soft weight of her breasts and gave one commanding squeeze.

Your knees buckled.

“Stay still,” she said, and began to move.

She slid them up and down slowly, her tongue flicking over your tip every other stroke. You whimpered, trying to stay upright as pleasure coiled in your belly again—too soon, too much.

“Oh, look at him,” Nayeon purred from the bed. She began rubbing herself lazily while watching. “He’s already falling apart. You’re such a slut for tits, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Miss,” you groaned.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I’m a slut for Mistress Jihyo’s tits.”

“Say it louder,” Jihyo snapped, squeezing tighter, stroking faster.

“I’m a slut for your tits, Mistress!”

“That’s better.”

Jihyo leaned forward, letting her spit dribble down onto your cock, her cleavage hot and slick.

She moved faster.

“Don’t you dare cum,” Nayeon warned, fingers now buried between her thighs. “You cum without permission again, and I’ll ruin you.”

You trembled.

“I-I don’t think I can hold it…”

Jihyo smirked and let your tip rest against her tongue again.

“You’re going to.”

You gasped—your orgasm just a breath away.

Then Jihyo stopped.

“On the bed,” she said firmly.

You collapsed onto it, twitching, dripping precum onto the sheets.

Nayeon grinded against your thigh, breath hot on your face.

“Now the real torture starts.”

Your body was already shaking before the real game began.

You were still tied, half-limp, cock twitching after Jihyo’s brutal titfuck session. Nayeon leaned over you with a sadistic smile, one hand on your thigh, the other trailing slow patterns along your chest like she was deciding where to carve her name.

“Oh, baby,” she cooed, mock-sympathetic. “You’re already sore? Already aching?”

She gave your tip a light slap.

You twitched and groaned.

“You’ve got at least five to six more loads left in you,” she whispered. “And we’re gonna take every single one.”

“She’s right,” Jihyo said, sitting cross-legged at the edge of the bed, watching you like a queen observing a trembling offering. “We’re not stopping until you’ve got nothing left.”

It started with Jihyo crawling onto your lap, straddling you with her toned thighs and lowering herself slowly onto your cock. Her expression barely changed as your shaft stretched her open — practiced, controlled, her pace devastatingly slow.

You sobbed.

“God… Mistress…”

She cut you off by grabbing your throat — not choking, just holding. Her grip firm. Possessive.

“You don’t get to call God,” she said calmly. “You call me.”

She sank all the way down.

Your hips bucked instinctively. Her hand squeezed harder.

“Stay still.”

You tried. You failed. You couldn’t help it. She was so warm, so tight. You were still on the edge from before. It didn’t take long.

“M-Mistress—please—I’m close already—”

“Then cum inside me,” she said coldly. “Now.”

The command broke you.

You came hard, deep inside her. Jihyo held herself down on you, keeping every pulse buried inside her, watching your face twist in sweet agony as your body trembled under hers.

She didn’t move. She didn’t let you go soft.

She leaned down, whispered into your ear.

“That’s one.”

Before your body could relax, Nayeon shoved Jihyo off of you with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

“My turn,” she said with a wicked grin, crawling over your chest.

She lined your cock up to her soaked entrance and slammed herself down without warning.

“Fuck,” you cried out, body jerking.

Nayeon laughed, grinding her hips in fast, messy circles. “Oh, are you already sensitive? Poor thing.”

She didn’t give you time to answer. She started bouncing — fast, hard, brutal. Her tits bounced with each slam, sweat gleaming down her neck. Her hands grabbed your shoulders, her thighs clamped around your sides.

“You don’t cum,” she warned, voice breathless, “until I say.”

You tried. You failed again.

Your balls clenched. Your vision blurred.

“M-Miss—can’t—!”

“Now,” she hissed, just as your tip hit her deepest spot.

You came inside her hard — again. This time messier, twitchier. Your hips buckled. You cried out something halfway between her name and a broken apology.

She rode you through it, milking every drop.

Then she leaned back, smirking.

“That’s two.”

Your cock was slick and twitching, but still hard.

“Up,” Jihyo ordered. She knelt at the edge of the bed, spreading her thighs slightly, pushing her tits together in your face.

“Use them. Cum on them. Make it messy.”

You didn’t even have to stroke. Just the pressure and friction of her soft skin around your cock was enough.

You whimpered as you fucked her chest desperately.

Nayeon crouched beside you, watching like a proud handler.

“Look at him,” she whispered. “He’s so fucking desperate now. He needs to cum on you.”

Jihyo grinned.

“Do it. Cum on my tits. Don’t you dare hold back.”

Your body convulsed. You groaned through clenched teeth and spilled everything across her chest, ropes of cum painting her skin and dripping down to her stomach.

She let out a low moan and smeared it with her fingers.

“That’s three.”

“Still not done,” Nayeon sang, grabbing your leash and dragging you to her.

She knelt between your legs and sucked you in without a word.

You were overstimulated beyond reason. You couldn’t think. Your hands were fists in the sheets. Nayeon’s mouth was heaven and hell — too good, too wet, too much.

She moaned around your cock as she bobbed her head faster.

Jihyo came over, breasts still dripping with your cum, and whispered:

“Give her everything. On her tongue.”

Your hips bucked involuntarily — and you came again, right into Nayeon’s mouth.

She swallowed every drop and then smiled, licking her lips.

“Four.”

You didn’t know how you were still hard.

They flipped you onto your back again, and the two of them mounted you together — Jihyo on your face, Nayeon on your cock.

Their moans mixed, their bodies grinding in sync.

You had nothing left.

And they kept going.

“Cum,” Jihyo ordered again.

“I own this cock,” Nayeon moaned.

You came. Again.

You didn’t even make a sound. Just a broken whimper as your body spasmed and gave them everything it had left.

Nayeon collapsed onto your chest. Jihyo pulled off your face, panting.

You were soaked in sweat, cum, spit — everything.

They kissed over your limp body, Nayeon stroking your hair while Jihyo wiped her tits with a towel and tossed it onto your stomach.

“Good boy,” Jihyo murmured.

“Broken,” Nayeon said with pride.

“And tomorrow,” she added, licking your cheek, “we start again.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

How to accidentally seduce your mission

Pairing: Dante x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,7k

Synopsis: You’re an underqualified, overworked nobody who got blackmailed into seducing the legendary demon hunter Dante Sparda. Problem is—you forgot what he looks like. Now you’re sitting in a bar, tipsy, accidentally spilling your entire top-secret mission to a mysterious (and annoyingly hot) stranger... who may or may not be the guy you’re supposed to trap. Spoiler: He is. And he’s loving every second of it.

Warnings: reader is super clumsy and absent-minded in this lol, lot of fluff + fun, this is a comfort fic for all the trauma I normally dump on y'all hehe, drunk reader ENJOY

This is absolutely ridiculous and you know it.

You, out of all people, responsible for luring none other than Dante Sparda into a flytrap?

You, a random girl from across the street who simply opened the door at the wrong time. You, who can’t even survive a single second in Call of Duty’s easy mode, who always sucked at doing sports. Oh, you’ll be so dead after this.

But you have no other choice.

“It’s following my instruction or losing your friends and family – you decide.”

You groan out loud, your eyes darting around the worn-down bar without a real aim. To be honest, you have to be the worst candidate for an undercover mission in a world you fail to understand. But apparently, that’s what makes you the perfect fit. Maybe this is what they’re searching for – an innocent girl who is sick of working a full-time job and doesn’t want to lose her relatives yet.

Who is Danta Sparda even? A demon hunter, as it seems – not like you already caught on the principle of “demons” living in this world. A pretty strong man.

And obviously, a wanted man as well.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

A grin spreads across your face almost instantly when the nice lady from behind the bar sets down a glass of something promising in front of your eyes. Oh, you haven’t been out drinking for ages. Just a little sip of alcohol would ease your nerve for sure.

“And don’t you dare to touch a single drop of alcohol.”

If it wasn’t for that shitty man who nuked all the fun out of this forced mission.

“I do, but I still need to pass I guess”, you mumble into your hands.

What a shitty way to end the day. Can this Dante guy finally show up so that you can distract him until the others arrive?

Now that you think of it…do you even know how that man looks?

“Shit shit shit”, you hiss to yourself, frantically pulling out your phone.

Maybe they already showed you but you didn’t care enough to listen. Or maybe they forgot as well…Right?

No, there’s no way in hell they did.

“I’ll just leave this here for you, I think you need it girl.”

Did they send it to you? Show it? Print it out? Your stomach twists uncomfortably while you search through each and every cat pic.

“I don’t even know how he looks…”

You don’t even realize that your mouth starts sipping on what appears like your last straw on its own, taking in the sweet but burning sensation of what tastes like pure heaven at the moment.

It’s not a secret to anyone that your head is lost in the clouds. Fuck, you even told that guy when he started threatening you that he’s the one who makes a big mistake with recruiting you to seduce a random guy at a bar. But your family and friends rely on you. What if they get killed because you didn’t care to listen to what that jerk said to you?

“Get yourself together, (y/n).”

Your thumb fumbles across the screen as you scroll past endless folders named things like “catbuttz2024,” “RENT RECEIPTS??,” and “do not open 3am.”

 Nothing. Absolutely nothing about Dante Sparda. No file. No profile. No creepy black-and-white security footage that the jerk promised would be “burned into your memory.” Ha. What memory?

You squint, tapping your gallery open again, eyes barely holding focus as the images begin to blur slightly. Okay. That might be the drink kicking in. Just one sip. One. Maybe two. And a half. But it was sweet, and you earned it by still being alive.

“Excuse me,” you wave lazily to the bartender, “can I get another one of those soul-healing, throat-burning miracle potions?”

The bartender raises an eyebrow, gives you that “really?” look, but still turns and begins mixing. Probably out of pity or morbid curiosity - you’re not sure anymore.

You sigh, dramatically, slouching against the bar with your phone resting on the counter like it betrayed you. Because it did. Because now there’s no way you’ll know who Dante Sparda is unless he conveniently walks in with a neon sign taped to his back that says “HI, I’M THE GUY YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SEDUCE OR STALL OR SACRIFICE, WHO EVEN KNOWS.”

Your drink arrives with a thud, the kind that feels final. You toast it to no one.

“To being criminally underqualified and too sober for this shit,” you mutter, then sip again.

 It burns less this time - or maybe you just care less.

Your head starts to feel fuzzy around the edges, thoughts floating out of reach like balloons slipping into the sky. You remember vaguely that Dante is supposed to be hot. Or dangerous. Or both. Or maybe just grumpy. Or a silver-haired guy with a blindfold. Is that the right franchise? Did your mind stop working when someone mentioned that he’s hot?

“Okay,” you whisper to yourself, staring at a badly lit image that might be a shirtless man with a sword… or a cosplay from your cousin’s Facebook.

“This is useless. I might as well just ask every man in here if he’s secretly the spawn of hell.”

“That’s one way to start a conversation.”

You blink.

That wasn’t your thought. That was out loud. That was a voice. A man’s voice. Low. Smooth. Kinda cocky. You freeze mid-sip, your tongue still somewhere in your drink, and shift your eyes without turning your head.

There’s a man sitting next to you. A real man, apparently.

He wasn’t there a minute ago. Or maybe he was and your drink already declared war on your perception of time and space. Either way, he’s here now, and you can feel the heat of him like he carries his own gravitational pull. Red coat. Glove-stripped fingers wrapped lazily around a glass. That hair – silver, tousled, annoyingly perfect. His legs are spread too comfortably, like he owns not just the bar stool but the air around it. Smirking.

You swallow too loudly. The drink goes down like regret.

“Oh,” you mumble, blinking once. Twice.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he replies, with just enough amusement to make your stomach do a flip.

“You look a little lost.”

You give him a wobbly smile, the kind of smile people wear when they’re trying very hard to seem like they’ve got their life together and totally didn’t just toast to their own failure.

“I’m not lost. I’m just… situationally misplaced.”

He chuckles. Of course he does. Of course the man with the confident sprawl, good hair, and unfair cheekbones has a laugh like sin on vacation.

You frown. Did he only come here to make fun of you?

"Are you judging me?" you ask, more suspicious than you probably have the right to be, considering you’ve just referred to yourself as ‘situationally misplaced’ like that means something.

“I’m just sitting here. You’re the one muttering about hellspawn and seduction strategies.”

You blink.

You did say that out loud.

Fuck.

“No, no, no,” you whisper, pressing the cold glass to your cheek in full-body regret.

 “This is so not how undercover operations are supposed to go. I think I skipped the lesson on ‘keeping your damn mouth shut.’”

He lifts a brow.

“Undercover?”

You groan, slumping against the bar dramatically, like gravity itself is just done with your existence.

“I wasn’t even supposed to be here. I literally opened the door to borrow eggs or something and now I'm supposed to trap a demon hunter. Like, what does that even mean?”

You glance at him, wide-eyed, glassy, and very much over it.

“Do you know what it means to trap a demon hunter? Because I sure as hell don’t. They gave me no instructions! Just this vague ‘seduce him, stall him, distract him’ crap. I work in customer service. My skill set involves apologizing to Karens and fake smiling until my soul escapes my body.”

His lips twitch.

“Rough gig.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” you reply with a defeated laugh, waving a hand as though physically pushing away your life.

“Apparently the guy I’m supposed to trap is named Dante Sparda or something. He’s hot. Or terrifying. Or hot and terrifying. I don’t know. No one sent me his photo. And now I’m sitting here trying to Google his ass while looking like I’m filming a low-budget espionage porno.”

You jab your thumb at your phone like it personally offended you.

“And I keep getting fan art and cosplay! Look at this. Look! This guy could be Dante. Or Gojo. Or someone's edgy OC from Tumblr.”

The man next to you peers at the screen.

“Hmm. Tough call.”

“Right?”

You nod, a little too fast.

“Like, is that a demon hunter or a K-pop idol with a sword fetish?”

You sigh again. Loudly.

“I swear, if I ever meet this Dante guy, I’m gonna tell him straight to his beautiful demonic face that this mission was BULLSHIT. I’ll be like: ‘Sir, I am unqualified. I get anxiety ordering pizza. Please just fake your death and let me go home.’”

He takes a sip of his drink, watching you with thinly veiled amusement.

“And you’re sure you’ve never seen him before?”

“NOPE,” you declare, far too proudly.

“Could walk straight past him on the street and not even blink. Unless he sparkled. Does he sparkle? Is that a thing with demon hunters? Ugh, what am I saying? Of course he doesn’t sparkle. He probably broods. That’s like, their thing.”

He hums, as if seriously considering this.

“So if, hypothetically, he were already here… what would you do?”

You laugh - bitter, tipsy, tired of it all.

“Cry, probably.”

You turn to look at him now, fully. He’s watching you with that same smile, like he’s in on a joke you’re too drunk to understand. Like he’s humoring you.

And it suddenly hits you like a piano from a cartoon sky.

“…Wait,” you whisper, sitting up straighter.

“Why are you asking all these questions?”

“Well-“

“I know it”, you interrupt him, pointing your index finger almost through his eye.

“You know that guy, right? You know exactly who I’m talking about.

“Me, knowing Dante Sparda?”

The stranger shrugs oh too smoothly.

“Me, knowing Dante Sparda?” the stranger says with a smirk, and you narrow your eyes because he’s got that smug tone, the one that says I absolutely know and I’m enjoying your idiocy far too much.

“I might be able to show you,” he adds, tilting his head like he’s offering you directions to a taco truck and not your entire mission objective.

You wobble upright on the barstool, heroic in your tipsiness, point a finger at him that drifts a few inches to the left of his actual face.

“You’re shady,” you declare.

“And hot. Shady-hot. Like a morally ambiguous lifeguard.”

“Is that a yes?” he asks, already standing, already knowing your answer, because you’re far too drunk to play hard to get with answers or sobriety.

You nod, nearly falling off the stool in the process, and mumble something about snacks and not wanting to be murdered unless there’s at least a playlist. You make it precisely five steps outside the bar before your knees betray yo, and you half-crumple into him like a fainting goat. Was it a good idea to gulp down two cocktails in like an hour after not drinking for quite some time? Maybe not.

“Okay,” you mutter into his arm, “the sidewalk is aggressively tilting.”

“You’re drunk, sweetheart.”

“You’re observant,” you reply, clinging to him like he’s your emotional support lamppost.

“New plan: We go to my place. You clearly can’t walk, and I’m not carrying your dramatic ass all over town,” the stranger suggests visibly amused while literally dragging you across the sidewalk.

“Rude,” you mumble, but you lean into him anyway, because he’s warm and smells like leather and trouble and something vaguely like cinnamon toast.

You arrive at his place and immediately in what feels like a heartbeat – or maybe it only does because you make yourself heavier on purpose to that he carries you all the way.

 “Wow, I expected more… blood,” you comment before faceplanting into his bed and yelling into the mattress, “I claim this land in the name of poor life choices.”

He kicks off his boots, chuckling, and when he settles into bed next to you - fully clothed, respectful, infuriatingly smug - you let out a contented sigh like this is somehow a spa.

“You’re suspiciously nice,” you mumble, voice muffled by the pillow.

“What are you, the demon hunter with a heart of gold?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he lies there, arm behind his head, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth like he’s waiting for a punchline.

You’re lying on your side now, facing him, and something about the way the light hits his face, or the way his hair falls, silver and wild like it just stepped out of an anime, you start to squint. Not because your vision is blurry (though it is) but because your brain is trying to connect dots it forgot were even dots. Somewhere, you’ve seen this face before not long ago.

“Hey…” you mumble.

“Yeah?”

You squint harder. There’s something nagging at the edge of your mind. Like a memory. Or a pizza topping you forgot to finish.

“Have we… met?”

He laughs softly.

“Not exactly.”

“No, no, not like…I’ve seen you somewhere,” you insist, propping yourself up slightly with all the grace of a sleepy gremlin.

“You look like... like someone I was warned about.”

“Oh yeah?” he repeats, still playing along, smiling like a cat watching a turtle slowly realize it's being stalked.

You blink at him. Hard. And then - click.

One, slow, drunken brain cell trips over a wire and launches a dusty memory from the back of your skull: someone shoving a photo in your face during a chaotic mission briefing, mid-pizza bite, yelling something about “That’s Dante! If you see him, don’t piss him off unless you’ve got a death wish! He’s your target. Your mission is to seduce him and we’ll do the rest, got it?”

Your mouth drops open in slow, dawning horror.

“I have seen you before,” you whisper.

“Someone showed me your picture. I was eating pizza and not paying attention but I saw you.”

“Oh?” he coos, smirking.

“I saw your stupid handsome face!” you moan, smacking your own forehead in sheer drunk disbelief.

 “I literally got briefed on you while covered in cheese grease and now I’ve been sitting here like, ‘Who’s this sexy stranger?’ YOU’RE THE MISSION!”

Dante's full-on laughing now, his shoulders shaking, absolutely no shame.

“Took you long enough, sweetheart. But hey, did you call me sexy?”

You groan and collapse back onto the bed, face-down.

“I hate this. I hate my memory. I hate pizza. And I hate you.”

“You don’t hate pizza.”

You lift one finger into the air without looking at him.

“I hate it temporarily. Out of shame.”

You hear him shift closer, feel the bed dip just slightly, and then he’s pulling the blanket over you, absurdly gentle for someone with literal demon blood, for someone who get hunted.

“Still,” he murmurs, voice low and warm in the hush of the room, “you came a long way. You found me. Sort of.”

You peek up at him from the pillow.

“Accidentally. While drunk.”

“A win’s a win.”

You snort, half-laughing, half-exhausted, your head starting to spin in the good way now - the warm way, the safe way. And even though he’s the guy you were supposed to track down like a trained agent, even though this whole night’s been a blur of chaos and embarrassment, somehow you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

“You’re lucky I’m too tired to yell at you properly. And that I just want to rest here a lil’ longer,” you mumble.

“Lucky me.”

A pause.

Then you add, voice slurring slightly, “...You’re still shady-hot.”

And as your eyes drift closed, you hear him chuckle one last time.

“Sleep, rookie. You’ve earned it.”

Tags: @umbrasworld @moonlighteevee @elrondswifeyyyy @levisbrat25 @dragon-lord-lysander

@punem699

@sunshine7queen @dreamywisterias-blog @mizzowizzo @kawaistrawberry21 @legoyass

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Second chances ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Lucifer didn't think he would ever have the chance at love again, but then he met you and got to know you after the destruction of the Hotel.

Pairing : Lucifer x Reader

Word count : 2239 Words

Genre : Fluff, Romance

Warnings ➵ Spoilers for EP 8!!

a/n : I love him sm, he deserves the world, a big hug and a smooch to the cheek

Also legit the first part of this barely has any interactions but eh- idk where I was going with this-

Might make this into a series, idk yet.. Also definitely one of my more boring and bad works sadly..

┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡

Coming back to the hotel from an outing in the city, you were met with chaos. Everyone was running around, Razzle and Dazzle were hanging up a banner reading > Welcome Daddy < what was happening? Ducking your head as Sir Pentious darts past you, before making your way over to Charlie.

"Sweetheart, what's happening?" Laying your hand softly on Charlie's shoulder, her hair flies around as she comes to face you. You were one of the first people to join the hotel back then, having grown close to Charlie over that time, she viewed you as a parent figure, while you viewed her like a daughter. "My dad is coming and everything has to be perfect! He has to be assured he can trust me and help me!" That explained a lot, especially why Charlie was so stressed. Pulling her into a hug now, your hand softly gliding over her head, as you mutter how she should not stress too much and that she is doing amazing. Noticing how her body was relaxing against your own, you were glad to have calmed her down at least a little bit.

After helping the others a bit more, it was finally time. Charlie swept her hands on her jacket, before opening the door. A bright choice sounding, as Lucifer pulls his daughter into a tight hug. Before saying hello to Keekee, Razzle and Dazzle. He was.. different than everyone probably though.

Watching Alastor talk to Lucifer now, they for sure could not stand the other one, this would be fun. Charlie now introduced Vaggie to him, which made you smile a little bit when Lucifer took her into his arms. The rest was quickly introduced before Charlie pulled you beside her. "And this is Y/N, Dad! They really helped me a lot already, of course like anyone else here too!" Fumbling around with her words a bit, you softly lay your hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We know what you mean dear, Charlie is an amazing girl, we are really proud of her." Your eyes were on Charlie, before greeting Lucifer correctly.

It was quiet for a second before a crash could be heard. Oh shit.. For a few minutes, the banter between Alastor and Lucifer continued on, making you sigh as you sat down beside Angel. This way going great huh? Vaggie was also at the end of her nerves right now. As they were seemingly coming to an end finally, the doors slammed open and some short blonde lady walked in as if she owned this place. Being introduced to her soon, you decide to tag along with Charlie and the others to show her dad around.

You were simply following the others, listening to Charlie nervously ramble on, only glancing over your shoulder for a second as Husker stopped Alastor, but you decided to not give it another thought.

Arriving at the balcony, you and Vaggie stand back, as Charlie and her dad talk. But too soon they were interrupted as some debris was thrown into the hotel and shook the whole building. Rushing through the portal, you guys are back in the foyer of the hotel, looking around for an answer. Mimzy the woman from before finally explained what was happening, you rolled your eyes, how amazing. Too busy with making sure you saw everyone safe, you weren't seeing the debris falling your way. Before you knew it you were swept off your feet, as Lucifer saved you from being smashed by the debris, setting you down on your feet again softly, as his wings disappear again.

"You see now Charlie what I mean? Those sinners destroy everything! They fall into your home and destroy it, they aren't grateful for anything!" Talking to Charlie now, as Alastor finally decided to step in and fight off those damned loan sharks, before telling the woman to disappear. Watching Charlie and her dad now, as you were standing beside Alastor, a frown visible on your face. She worked so hard for this, why couldn't he believe in her? Though quickly everything explained itself and both of them seemed to finally makeup, a tear slipping from your eye from how beautiful this moment was.

"All right.. I'll get you that meeting but.. once in heaven you're alone I.. can't come with you." Lucifer told Charlie, before disappearing in a red cloud.

That was now a month ago. Right now everyone was getting ready for that damned extermination. Sadly Charlie's conversation with Heaven didn't do anything, on top of that the tension in the whole group grew, with Vaggie being an old exterminator. But that was all over now, as the whole group decided to have one last drink the night before the big battle. You were talking with Husker, as Angel was with Cherri, Alastor and Niffty looking upon everyone and Charlie with Vaggie nowhere to be seen. And of course, Sir Pentious trying to strike up a conversation with Cherri. You hoped everything would go well tomorrow and that no one would die.

The morning arrived, and everyone was gathered outside to protect the hotel, to protect Charlie's dream. Everyone was ready for this.

Almost everything seemed to go down in a wink, the hotel was in shambles, Alastor was missing - assumingly dead, Sir Pentious gave his life for the group and Adam was killed. Now the rebuild of the hotel was in full swing, everyone was helping, even Cherri who wasn't even a resident of the hotel yet. Lucifer also stayed to help his daughter and somehow convinced her to let him have a room too and stay with the group.

"Have you seen Charlie? Some new shipments came." The blonde was approaching you now, his coat and hat off, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Raising to your feet from where you were kneeling to work on some nails, you swept some sweat from your forehead before turning to Lucifer. "She and Vaggie went to town real quick for some errands, but she told me where to put them, let me show you." Laying the hammer down on one of the many workbenches, you go accept the shipments, before showing Lucifer the way.

You and him had quite a few conversations over the last few days, with you being a parent figure for Charlie and him being her father, you two talked a lot about how well she is doing. What you didn't notice were the fleeting glances the king of hell threw your way every now and then.

"She told me to just put it here." Opening the door to a little cabinet now on the first floor of the hotel in the foyer. This was the first thing finished, right now the works were on the upper rooms. Putting down the box you were carrying on the shelf, Lucifer followed where you put the other box, before thanking you for helping him out. "Soo.. The hotel is coming together rather nicely huh?" Looking over to you with his red eyes now, as you close the door, a bit confused he was striking up a conversation right now. "Yeah, everyone is doing so amazingly, I'm glad we got so much help.. If we don't look at Niffty punching holes in the new floor trying to catch roaches.." At least some things were apparently not changing and stayed the same.

"Say.. when the hotel is finished would you perhaps.. you know.. maybe.. be interested in a date?" Stopping in your tracks now, you blink a few times. Did you just hear correctly? The Lucifer Morningstar, the king of hell just asked you for a date? Turning your head around now, your cheeks slowly become a crimson-red color. Looking at him, he didn't really look different, his cheeks red, as he was sheepishly playing with his sleeves. "You want to go on a date with me?" Raising his eyes to meet yours, he simply nods. "To be honest with you, you caught my eye the day I first came here but.. then all this happened and we never really got to talk and I was worried you would think I'm weird for asking, so I thought I should maybe wait a bit-" He was rambling on, probably from how nervous he was to ask you out. After his ex-wife left him, he didn't really date anyone after that, so it's been a while since he has ever asked someone for a date. "I would love to. Thank you for asking me." Laying your hand softly over his, giving it a soft reassuring squeeze to tell him not to worry too much. Sadly the moment was cut short, when Angel called for you, having someone questions about about paint.

Lucifer's eyes followed you now, the smile on his face not being able to be hidden now, fist-pumping the air happily over how he finally asked you. Charlie came back that moment and looked a little bit more than worried at her father, but overall no new behavior from him.

The hotel was soon finished, Alastor also came back, making at least Charlie relieved that he was still alive, Husker and Lucifer didn't seem so pleased with that fact, but they would get over it.

So now, it was time for your date with Lucifer. Charlie was thrilled when she heard you would be going on a date with her dad, at first you were rather worried about how she would react, but she was happy that her dad was trying to find love again. Making sure your hair was sitting right and your clothes were wrinkle-free, when a knock sounded at your door. Taking one last breath, you open it and are met with Lucifer. His hat was gone and he was wearing a white suit, similar to what he normally wore but more suitable for a fancy dinner - as fancy as a dinner in hell can be.

"You look amazing! Oh my! Look at you!" Lucifer was throwing compliments at you left and right, before he caught himself again, straightened his jacket, and then extended his arm for you to take. "Thank you, you also look amazing tonight Lucifer." Taking his arm now, he guides you two to the elevators which take you down to the foyer. Charlie was trying subtly to look at you two, but failing miserably. "Charlie is staring at us and almost crying.." Whispering to Lucifer now, he just nods, making sure to throw Vaggie a begging look to take care of Charlie, as you two leave the hotel. He decided to take you to the more finer side of Pentagram City, where rather expensive shops and restaurants were and which were less bloody.

"Here we are! It's the finest one I know around here!" Leading you inside, it was a big place. The restaurant had a fountain in the middle and had many plants all around the wide place. Marble floors, stone walls were adorned with gold elements and gold was seen all throughout the place. This was definitely an expensive place by the looks of it. A waiter leading you to a table no, you were sure was the best one in the whole restaurant. It was by a wide window, having a good look down the city, in the distance you could even see the hotel slightly, especially the big sign reading Hazbin Hotel.

"This place is beautiful but.. it looks rather expensive, are you sure this is okay?" Of course you knew who Lucifer was and he could basically afford anything in this whole city and do anything he wanted, you just wanted to make sure. Assuring you now that you shall not worry about something like that. Ordering food and enjoying the meal together, it was a nice evening. Everything goes by smoothly and you and Lucifer finally get around to know each other better. Sadly the dinner was over too quickly, Lucifer leading you back to the hotel now, while telling you a story from Charlie's childhood, which made you giggle. He truly was a gentleman and had a pure heart, he cared so much about Charlie.

"So.. would you.. repeat this another time? I mean only if you also enjoyed it! I of course did enjoy it! I mean you're amazing and-" Standing in front of your room now, you silence him with a soft kiss to the cheek, before looking at him softly fixing his suit. "I would love to Luci, I enjoyed this evening with you alot." Raising your eyes again to meet his, you can't help but let out a giggle at his expression. Eyes blown wide, mouth open and cheeks blazing red. "Great! Yeah! Woah! Me too! Especially the food, poah that was amazing! And the place was really worth it! Was it to your liking? I really hope so because-" Pulling him down by his suit now, your lips softly meeting his, eyes closed, before seperating again as you look at him. "Sorry.. You were rambling so nervously.. Please don't worry, I mean it when I say loved tonight.. Now sleep well Luci." Planting another kiss to his cheek, you enter your room, closing the door behind yourself.

You can help but smile at his little giggles as he skips down the hallway to his own room now. He was something, but you were looking forward to more dates that would follow this one.

[sweethoneyjays]

peach ade ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ p.j.s

❀ ◦ paring ◦ barista!jay x reader ❀ ◦ genre ◦ fluff fluff and a bit crack ❀ ◦ synopsis ◦ jay was never really intrested in anyone.. untill you stumbled into the his cafe one warm afternoon. ❀ ◦ warnings ◦ just a bit of swearing ❀ ◦ word count ◦ 1700 (exact !)

❀ ◦ note ◦ little jay barista au hehe, hes a bit of a loser in this one too (i love losers). maybe i should make one for the other members too 👀. Anyways hope yall enjoy and thank you to my one and only beta reader @lovegreenie !! <333 ❀ ◦ taglist ◦ @kristynaaah @beenusflytrap @nari-roll

❀ ◦ masterlist

Jay wiped down the counters, the cloth moving in rhythmic circles as Sunghoon stretched out lazily in his seat, waiting for an order that might never come. The cafe was a quiet little hole-in-the-wall, the kind of place people stumbled upon accidentally and swore they'd come back to… but rarely did.

Sunghoon sighed dramatically. “Man, Jake’s been pulling lately. It’s honestly unfair.”

Jay scoffed, not bothering to look up. “And?”

“And?” Sunghoon repeated skeptically. “You don’t think it's annoying? I mean, come on. I’m clearly the more handsome friend.”

Jay finally glanced over, unimpressed. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Sunghoon grinned, unbothered. “The real question is… why don’t you ever find anyone cute? Like, ever? Are you secretly an alien or just ridiculously picky?”

Jay exhaled, setting the cloth down. “I don’t know? I have standards?”

Sunghoon groaned, throwing his arms up.

“Standards? Dude, you’re just making excuses for not being able to pull.” He chuckled, leaning in, eyes narrowing. “What’s it gonna take for someone to actually catch your eye?”

Jay simply shrugged. “Someone I don’t get tired of.”

Sunghoon stared at him before letting out a dramatic sigh. “So basically, a miracle.”

Jay smirked, returning to cleaning. “Something like that.”

It was a slow day at the cafe, nothing but the steady hum of the espresso machine and the occasional rustling of chairs. The quiet was interrupted by the soft chime of the doorbell, signaling a new customer.

Sunghoon glanced up from his place behind the counter and stretched lazily. "Hey, can you handle this one? I need to use the bathroom."

Jay nodded, tossing aside the rag he’d been using to wipe down tables before stepping up to the register.

"Hello, ma’am, what would you like to orde-" His voice faltered mid-sentence as he looked up.

His body went rigid, frozen in place like a deer in headlights.

There you were, standing in front of him with a bright, easygoing smile.

Why did his heart feel like it had been kicked into overdrive?

Something about you was different, almost unreal in the warm afternoon glow streaming through the windows. The soft curve of your lips, the effortless way you carried yourself, the quiet confidence in your gaze, it was disarming.

"Hi, may I get a peach ade with a bacon cheese sandwich?" you asked, completely unaware of the effect you had on him.

Jay blinked. Stared a bit too long.

Shit, stop staring. Stop staring.

Then, realizing he was just standing there like an idiot, he snapped back into reality, fumbling for the register.

"Oh uh- okay, that uhh- would uh be… fifteen total... May I uhm- get your name, please?" he stammered, mentally cursing himself for sounding like a fool.

You tilted your head slightly before chuckling at his flustered state, giving him your name and the money before making your way to a seat by the window.

Jay exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus as he keyed in your order.

What the heck was that Jay

He was praying to the gods above that Sunghoon did not see his fumble.

Too bad the gods were busy today.

Jay barely had a moment to breathe before Sunghoon leaned in, his voice low with amusement.

"What the hell was that? You so find her cute" he whispered, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Jay shot him a sharp look. "Be quiet. And make the bacon cheese."

But Sunghoon wasn’t done. "Oh hoo hoo, someone's a bit defensive. Looks like you have a type, my friend. Cute ones, huh?"

Jay scowled, but his glare only made Sunghoon chuckle as he walked off. "Can’t wait to tell Jake about this" he added teasingly before disappearing into the kitchen.

Left alone, Jay sighed, turning back to prepare your peach ade.

Except now, it was impossible not to glance over at you.

The way your skin glowed under the afternoon light, the effortless way you tucked your hair behind your ear, the soft smile playing on your lips as you scrolled through your phone, it was distracting. Too distracting.

Oh god, she’s so beautiful-

Oh, fuck-

The sound of ice overflowing snapped Jay out of his daze, spilling past the edges of the plastic cup. His eyes widened in panic as he scrambled to fix it, stammering under his breath while dumping the mess and starting over. And to make matters worse his best buddy started laughing by the grill.

Sunghoon was never going to let this go.

Jay had one thought running through his head as he prepared your drink, this has to be perfect.

“Okay, lover boy, try blinking sometime. Your eyes look like they’re gonna pop out from how hard you’re concentrating” he teased, placing the finished sandwich at the pick-up zone.

Jay ignored him, waving him off as he continued making your peach ade, though his focus kept slipping. He risked another glance… just a quick one.

But then you looked up at him.

F-ck.

Jay immediately dropped his gaze, a sharp blush creeping across his cheeks.

Shit- how long have I been staring at her?

Mentally punching himself, he scrambled to finish your drink, shaking off his nerves. He set the cup on the counter, stepping away to grab a tray, he might as well serve it properly.

But when he turned back, Sunghoon was holding the peach ade, inspecting it.

Jay narrowed his eyes. “What? Is there something wrong with it?”

Sunghoon’s smirk was downright criminal as he hastily set the cup back down. “No, no, nothing’s wrong” he said, far too innocently.

Jay rolled his eyes, placing the sandwich and drink onto the tray before finally heading toward you, willing himself to stay calm.

Let’s see how long that lasts.

Jay approached your table carefully, placing the tray down with practiced ease. "Hello, here’s your order, ma’am" he greeted softly.

You looked up, smiling. “Thank you…” Your eyes flickered down, scanning the name tag pinned to his chest.

“… Jay.”

His heart stopped.

God dammit, Jongseong, snap out of it.

Jay barely managed to stammer out, "I uh- your welcome" before making a hasty exit, not before nearly tripping over a nearby table. He scurried behind the counter, face burning with embarrassment as Sunghoon broke into laughter, clutching his stomach.

"Nice one, rizzler" Sunghoon mocks, snorting between gasps for air.

"Whatever" Jay grumbled, turning on the sink to wash his hands. "Just leave it be. It’s not like I’ll see her again."

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, twirling a pen between his fingers. "Are you sure about that?"

Jay paused, slowly turning to him in an exaggeratedly comical way, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing" Sunghoon said, faking his innocence. "Just being the best hecking wingman on earth." His proud smirk made Jay’s stomach sink.

Immediately, Jay turned back toward you.

You were holding the cup, inspecting something closely, your fingers brushing over the writing. His chest tightened as he audibly gasped.

"What did you put on the cup?" Jay hissed, already feeling the panic rise.

"Did you make me look like a weirdo? a creep??" He grabbed Sunghoon by the shoulders, shaking him with newfound urgency.

Before Sunghoon could answer, the cafe bell rang.

Jay stilled. You were at the counter, waiting.

Sunghoon chuckled, nudging Jay forward. "Better go find out for yourself.”

Jay swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his voice steady.

"Hi uh-, how can I help you?"

You smiled softly, handing him your peach ade and half-eaten sandwich. "I was just wondering if I could get these to go?"

Ah, shit.

Jay stiffened. You were leaving.

Did she think I was a creep? Or worse, did Sunghoon's dumbass message on the cup scare her off?

"Oh, yeah, of course" he replied quickly, taking your items to fix them up for takeout. He walked into the back room to grab a bag, only to find Sunghoon waiting for him, arms crossed.

"Thanks a lot, hoon. You made her leave. She probably thinks I’m a creep" Jay grumbled.

Sunghoon scoffed. "What? I literally just put a ‘ur cute’… Welp, nice try, dude. Maybe you’re just not her type."

Jay rolled his eyes dramatically. "Ouch."

Still feeling weirdly defeated, Jay finished packing your order, stepping back out to the counter.

He tried to keep his composure, pretending this was just another normal customer exchange, but the sting of rejection lingered.

Oh well.

He handed you the bag, managing a small smile. "Here’s your takeout."

"Thank you." You reached for the bag, and for a fleeting second, Jay noticed a soft shade of pink rising onto your cheeks.

Odd.

He didn’t question it, until you hesitated, glancing at the counter.

"Uh… can you throw this out for me?" You placed a slightly crumpled napkin on the surface, offering him a quick smile before hurriedly making your way out of the cafe.

Jay raised an eyebrow, confused.

Then, he looked down at the napkin.

His eyes widened.

"SHE GAVE ME HER NUMBER" he exclaimed, voice borderline frantic.

Jay stared at the napkin in utter disbelief, his grip tightening around the flimsy paper like it was some kind of sacred relic. His pulse hammered in his ears.

From the back room, Sunghoon’s head popped out, eyes wide. "SHE DID?!"

Jay had never felt this much excitement, his face breaking into the goofiest grin imaginable. He barely registered Sunghoon stepping closer, eyeing the napkin with intrigue.

"Dude, close your mouth, you’re gonna catch a fly" Sunghoon teased, glancing down at the messy scribble of numbers on the paper.

Jay didn’t hear him. His eyes darted toward the cafe window, spotting you disappearing down the street.

I should text her. Definitely should text her… later.

He just leaned against the counter, exhaling a breathless chuckle.

"Wow…" he muttered, still dazed. "This is the kind of junk that would get a standing ovation in a landfill."

A beat of silence.

Sunghoon scoffed. "Genuinely, remind me never to assist you in anything ever again. I fear enabling whatever this is."

Jay rolled his eyes, finally snapping out of it, folding the napkin neatly and then placing it in his pocket safely.

Looks like miracles do happen after all.

more works here -> masterlist

[ssahotchnerr]

love ur writing!! 🥰😌

would love to see a one shot (or anything tbh) of reader waking up early on vday hoping to make aaron breakfast but he’s beat her to it instead! she just wanted to do something nice for him since he takes care of everyone else but he’s physically incapable of not taking care of her!!

a sweet start

thank you🫶🏻!!! ugh aaron and valentine's day is my favorite thing ever <333 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, descriptions of food, a lot of fluff 🥰

Your phone vibrated beneath your pillow, rousing you from what had been a restful sleep. You had purposely set the alarm low, needing it to be enough to awake you, but not so much as to disturb Aaron.

It was early. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, the bedroom still profusely dark. It was only six, but the hour would guarantee you the time you needed.

You quickly clicked it off, holding still for a moment before looking over your shoulder to ensure he hadn't stirred - your morning plans depended on it. But to your surprise, you found Aaron's side of the bed completely empty.

Shaking off the remnants of sleep, you fumbled with your robe, tripping over your feet as you slipped into your slippers.

You found Aaron in the kitchen; still in his pajamas, standing at the stove with a soft concentration. A bouquet of red roses was perched on the counter, catching your eye and sending a flutter through your chest. Sweet man.

The savory scent of buttery eggs, melting cheese and a touch of spice filled your nose as you inched closer. The floor creaked underneath your feet, causing him to turn.

"Morning sweetheart."

"What are you doing up?" You asked, your words laced with a yawn.

"Making you breakfast," Aaron grinned, averting his focus to fold over the omelet in the skillet. "Happy Valentine's Day."

You sidled up to him, allowing him to throw an arm around you and chastely pressing a kiss to your temple. "Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

Your words left you softly, causing him to crane his head down, lips in a soft smile before he brought them to yours, kissing you adoringly. You smiled into the kiss, and he mumbled an I love you.

"You're up early." He commented once he pulled away, filled with a light sense of urgency - fear your omelet would burn.

You burrowed into his side as much as you could, trying to soak up as much warmth as possible. Aaron, in his simple t-shirt, felt like a furnace against you. "You had the same idea as me."

His spatula slowed as he soaked in your sentence. His gaze shot to you with some alarm in his eyes - the sudden guilt of spoiling your plans.

"No no no," you laughed gently, kissing him once. Twice. "It's okay, I promise. I still have surprises planned. I just wanted to do something for you. You’re always giving so much - whether it's for me, your team, or anyone who needs you. I wanted to remind you that you deserve to be cared for, just as much as you care for everyone else."

"That's crazy talk. Sweetheart..." He trailed off as he transferred your omelet to a plate, turning off the burners as a safety precaution.

Aaron leaned back against the counter and pulled you forward at the hips, so casually and natural it brought a blush to your cheeks. "Don't even get me started on how much you do for me. Truly. You're here when I come home each day. You support me and understand when I don't. You remind me that despite the horrors I'm subject to encounter daily, there's still good in the world. You've accepted Jack with open, loving arms."

Your expression softened, your lips pouting slightly in a flattered manner.

"You're just, here. My shoulder to lean on. That's all I can ask for and as a result, this is the least I can do. Although you deserve it every day, I want you to have the perfect day today. I intend to go all out."

"I already am, simply because I have you." You wrapped your arms firmly around his middle, closing the gap between the two of you. "How in the world did I get so lucky?"

"That's funny, I was asking myself the same question."

"Thank you for the flowers," you mumbled into chest, pressing a kiss right over his heart. "And thank you for loving me so deeply."

"It's the easiest thing I've ever done. Mean it." He squeezed his arms around you, letting up only to resume doting on you. "What kind of jelly do you want on your toast? Strawberry? Grape?"

"Surprise me." Your lips pulled into a gentle smile as you nestled back into his side, right where you belonged.

A grin tugged onto Aaron's face in return, reaching for the bread, "Anything for my valentine."

[dollwrites]

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ᴇɴᴅ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ʀᴇᴍʏ ʟᴇʙᴇᴀᴜ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, reader’s tipsy ( and supposed to be saving herself for marriage ), thigh riding, dry humping. all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act ten [ thigh riding ]

“Now petit,” Remy drawls. he’s breathless from the barrage of kisses and heavy petting you’d sprung upon him, but that doesn’t stop his lips from still chasing every movement of yours. his breath was hot on your mouth, his stubble tickling your soft cheek. you imagined just how raw it could rub between your legs, scraping against sensitive, vulnerable flesh and you mewl out loud, squirming in his lap. the idea made you wet. “You makin’ Gambit feel all guilty for givin’ you the drink, what with the way yer a’actin’ now.” but even in your inebriated state, you could tell that wasn’t entirely true. Remy was grinning a lazy, satisfied simper, enjoying the way your body rubbed against his, the way your head dipped so that you could nuzzle against his neck, lick and kiss and suck all over. “Rubbin’ all up on me like some kinda kitty cat in heat, purrin’ so pretty like.” with one hand firmly planted on the flare of your hip, the other traipsed across the shape of your jaw, urging your lips back towards his own. “Tell Gambit what it is you wantin’ right now, chére.”

“I want you.” the answer comes out so easily— slips from your swollen lips as simply as if you’d been asked what day it was. “Remy, I want you so much.”

Remy’s grin only widens, showing the tips of his jagged canine on one side. calloused fingers trace over your lips, committing each mountain and valley to memory as deep, ruby eyes flicker across your face, drinking in your expression. glassy eyes, unable to fully focus, in a lustful haze as the alcohol worked away in your system, lowering your inhibitions that you were usually so strict on. if Remy had been more of a scoundrel, he would’ve spared not a second— he would’ve had you on your back on the couch, legs wrapped around his waist and screaming his name as he plowed into you over and over. he knew you would let him in your drunken stupor. hell, you’d probably even beg him for it. however, he pushed that fantasy deep into the recesses of his mind almost as suddenly as it had flared.

damn, he hated having to be the reasonable one.

“I’m achin’,” he responds in a low groan, just barely rocking his hips to adjust your position on his lap, centering you. with the way your skirt was rolled up, the thick tent in his pants prods against the soft, flimsy cotton of your panties, already damp with your own desire. he lets out another sound, an expletive under his breath, as he feels the soak bleeding a damp spot right on his groin. his clothes were going to smell like your core, your arousal, which made it even more difficult for him to resist. “Gambit wants you bad, too, chére.”

“Then take me,” you plead with him, your hands running down over his shoulders, caressing his broad chest before sinking lower down over his abs. “Take me, Remy.” you could feel just how honest his words were, his hard cock rubbing up against your panties in such a delectable way, and you roll your hips to meet that movement, swooning at just how much of his length you could feel while he was still packaged up. your hands, albeit novice level when it came to intimacy, blindly fumbles with his belt, eliciting a soft grunt from him.

“Nuh uh uh, petit.” he insists, both hands fleeing to envelop yours and hold them for a moment. “Gambit ain’t gonna do nothin’ to make his lady hate herself in the mornin’, when her pretty head a’poundin’ and she’s comin’ round back to her senses. You done told me that you not gonna be ready ‘til I put a ring on this pretty, little finger.” pulling your hands with his own gloved ones to his lips, he peppers them in loving, open mouthed kisses. “Ah’ll always look after you, chére. And ah can tell that right now, you need a lookin’ after, but Gambit don’t take advantage a’his woman.” he paused, pondered for a moment, and gives you a charming, toothy grin. one that always made your knees weak so you were grateful to be perched on his lap. “That don’t mean he won’t give her what she needs,” releasing your hands from his own, he shifts you on his lap, his back sliding down further along the cushion of the sofa. you’re jostled into a straddling position across his right thigh, and he lets out a soft sigh— most likely of disappoint as his hard on can no longer rub your wet panties.

“Remy—“ you start to protest, squirming against his thigh. you wanted to get back to that intense sensation of his cock throbbing in his trousers, begging to be released. you wanted to grind on it some more, until you came and soaked his groin in your scent, since he wouldn’t let you get it out.

“Hush now, sugar. Just let Gambit get’chu goin’.”

one svelte finger slipped under your skirt, tracing your panty line before hooking into it. his bare knuckle brushed against your swollen clit, causing you to catch your breath and seize, but he only chuckles, pulling those panties to the side and out of the way. Remy taps his foot against the floor in a slow rhythm, the motion bouncing you up and down on his taut thigh. it wasn’t until you sit flush against it that you elicit a soft moan.

“Attagirl, just rub that sweet, little honeypot on my leg ‘till you’re all satisfied.”

both of your hands immediate search for purchase on his thigh, splaying out to provide leverage as your hips start to move of their own volition, humping your boyfriend’s leg like a needy bitch. it was almost overwhelming how warm his thigh was, how you were able to feel it radiating off of him. his muscles were subtle against the fabric, but tightened, and with each roll of your hips, your bare cunny rode against the dips in his muscle pads and wrinkles in the fabric, providing you with a wide, ribbed expanse to strum yourself silly upon.

before long, you were panting, back arching and hips rutting in fast, eager buck, and Remy can’t help but admire that sight. moaning to himself with one hand holding your waist to help guide your movements, the other palms at his cock, snorting through his nostrils to suppress a rumbling, pleasured sound. “Ah, chére, you drive Gambit crazy without even tryin’.” red eyes completely and utterly entranced by your base display, the smile on his lips still present, he rubs the bulge in his pants in languid circles, only to quell the raging need to be inside you. “Gonna cum on me, aincha?” he taunts, but only because he can see how close you are. he could watch the way you’re gripping his leg with both hands in tight vices, or feel all of the muscles in your legs tensed up, clenching around his own. he could hear it in your voice, the higher pitched gasping yelps that escaped your open mouth as your jaw hangs slack, and the dampness that coated his leg underneath you, marking him as yours. “You go ahead, now.” he encourages, squeezing your waist to ensure you that he still had you. “Let it all out, chére. Let Gambit see you.”

it was too difficult to hold out. your stomach was tied in a thousand knots that pulled and pulled and pulled with each swipe of your cunt over his thigh, until it felt like snapping. your nails dug into the rough denim of his pants, and you were certain you’d torn microscopic threading, because you could feel the warm flesh beneath, but you couldn’t care less about his ruined jeans right now. rubbing back and forth, aided only by the slight tapping of his foot, the bouncing of his leg, you brought yourself to the tipping point.

and when you came undone, you rode out the duration of your orgasm. toes curling, eyes crossing, and mouth hanging open. you cried out Remy’s name as if it were the only word you could remember. your clit throbbed, your core clenched around nothing but air, seeming to demand to be filled for the first time. slowing down once your muscles all loosened, you felt a creeping soreness in your inner thighs, cramping from the position you were in, but you chose to ignore it. your eyes were even more difficult to focus, now, but you managed to see only one of Remy and smile, lackadaisically and satiated at him.

that makes him laugh out loud, his hand gliding up the curve of your side and then to your arm, tracing over your shoulder until his thumb and forefinger capture your chin. “Now, what a pretty sight dat is,” he murmurs. his voice is still husky with unfulfilled desire, but he no longer rubs at himself. he needs that arm to sneak around your lower back and jerk you closer to his body, until you collapse with your chest flush to his. a soft giggle bubbles up from your grinning tiers, holding his shoulders. you can feel the warmth of his breath washing over your lips and cheeks in waves as he speaks again. “Cumdrunk’s cute on ya, chére.”

[esmedelacroix]

minors gtfo . i need y/n to step on toxic!sukuna's neck and not be a doormat for a sec .

Angry feminist bitch!reader who ghosted toxic!sukuna after they hooked up on their first date.

Don't be mistaken, it wasn't for no reason. Angry feminist bitch!reader was shocked by Sukuna’s lack of after care, she simply had to remove herself from the situation. I mean did you expect him to kiss you and tell you he loved you? Hell no. But after the delicious pounding you were given, a pat on the back or carrying you to the toilet would have been fine.

You realized then and there that Sukuna had lied. He didn’t want a genuine relationship. You didn’t know why you thought you would meet a guy who was serious about you on a dating app anyway. It was unfortunate because you had had the best sex of your life.

You were gripping the sheets as he pounded you from the back. He spanked you and pulled your hair and you were loving every second. You felt fireworks ignite in your stomach as he played with your clit which had you coming undone on his fat cock. The sexual attraction and his lust was perceived to you as a 'spark.' You promised yourself you wouldn't make that mistake again.

Angry feminist bitch!reader who left Sukuna’s apartment the moment she realized he was a piece of shit who didn’t know how treat a woman right. No after care was already a red flag. Then there was the multiple times in the bar he addressed you as ‘woman’ instead of your fucking name.

Toxic!sukuna who found himself randomly thinking about you whenever he went back to that same bar he took you to. His tastes had changed. You and that attitude of yours had blown him away. You ruined him in just one night. You and your tight, wet little cunt.

Convincing himself he wasn't hooked on you, he looked for women with your height, your eyes, or your hair; yet he couldn’t find one that was just right. They were beautiful but they weren’t you. Especially in the bedroom. You were a little brat. Not afraid to defy him. Fucking yourself back on him and misbehaving even after he slapped your ass just so he'd do it harder.

His dick jumped in his jeans when you told him off for ordering your food for you. "I'm perfectly capable of speaking for myself," you snapped. You then proceeded to order the exact menu item he had chosen for you. Or the time when he also tried to order you a fruity cocktail and you rolled your eyes just looking to the bartender who apparently knew you well and slid you a scotch and soda.

After failing his search for a carbon copy of you on the dating apps where he usually found women to fuck and ghost, he sat alone at the bar picking at a blooming onion. "Trouble in paradise, player?" the bartender asked sliding him a pint of Guinness(you called it liquid shit on your date).

Sukuna slightly smiled to himself at that memory of you. "Yeah, I fumbled man," he admitted.

"I figured, after your date with _____ went south and you kept comin' in with girls that somewhat looked like her," he chuckled.

"Why are you so observant?" he scoffed pouting to himself. Toji shrugged in response.

"Bartender thing. We know it all."

"You probably know how to win her back too," Sukuna assumed.

"Maybe."

"Tell me man, do me a solid," Sukuna insisted.

"I don't know dude, I see how you move. I just don't want you to break her heart. She's my friend you know," Toji explained. Toji had heard all the tales about Ryomen from the drunk women that would come in and wail about him. He heard about the no after care. He knew about the ghosting. He knew he only called the girls he 'dated' when he wanted to fuck. He knew he talked to women with zero respect. He didn't want you to get hurt(he knew you wouldn't let that happen) and wanted to be a supportive friend.

"Well she still went back to my place after. She must have liked something about me. You could argue I made her happy," Sukuna claimed with his arms crossed.

Toji chuckled at that, "That woman loves sex. She probably just wanted an orgasm outta ya. She's also getting closer and closer to misandry because of guys like you so just give up on her. She's too good for you."

"Hearing that from you, one would think you like her," Sukuna accused.

"Well of course I do. She's like a star. She's so far above me, I'm content with just watching her shine, hoping that one day I could be one too," he mused.

After hearing a big tough guy like Toji's poetic ass hogwash he knew he wasn't nearly man enough to be worthy of you. So he couldn't help be shocked when you answered one of his stupid spontaneous texts that night. Sukuna had begged you for a redo on your date again and you had finally answered, 'fine,’ after the 80th try. Angry feminist bitch!reader who just couldn’t help herself. So, he was a misogynistic shit head; the dick was too good. Besides, you could change him.

. . .

a/n: shall I continue ? lmk cus this was just word vomit .

[scorpioriesling]

OML so good things come it groups of three has had me in a headlock and I don’t want to escape. I have trieddddddd so very hard to find scraps of smth like it and I found nothing😔. So here I am wondering if we the people can get another Liam/Ridoc/Bodhi (or another combination of fw guys if ur feeling silly) x Reader PLEASE 🙏. If you wanna make it a part two or a whole new thing idc Ill eat whatever you give me your writing is AMAZING.

-🎀Anon

Good Things Come in Groups of Three (Round 2)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Liam x Ridoc x Bodhi x reader

Warning(s): 18+, mdni, smut

Summary: Studying in the library late at night has your mind wandering… you can blame it on the time of night, the lack of sleep, or simply being alone. Regardless of the excuse, you can’t seem to put those 3 boys out of your mind.

SR’s Note: Thank you for your patience, queen. (; I hope this part 2 measures up to your expectations!! Also, I don’t want to spoil anything, but I do have this group of 3 + reader involved once again!! It’s only a draft right now for Kinktober… so you definitely don’t want to miss out!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Round 1

Your eyes roved over the text, trying to commit it to memory. Jesinia had done you a solid, pulling some of the best tomes for you to study before your test on Friday. Her expertise not only a scribe, but as your friend just might be what saved your grade.

If you could keep your mind from wandering, that is.

You'd caught yourself thinking, more than once, about the utterly insane predicament you'd found yourself in last week. It seemed that every time you turned a page in the textbook, images would race through your mind, each one as dirty as the last.

Liam fucking you in the shower.

Sitting atop Ridoc's face.

Bodhi's dick filling your throat.

...fuck.

You shake your head, the memory only sending more uncomfortable sensations to your core. This wasn't the time, nor the place -- nowhere, would ever be the time or place again. That was a one and done deal; one you'd be much too embarassed to repeat.

As your palms press into your eyes, you turn your attention to the wall clock, trying to make out the numbers it read.

11:57 pm.

Dammit, you hadn't wanted to be here this late. Perhaps all the reading and pouring over the material was good though, as you felt much more prepared for your upcoming exam. However, you'd failed to notice everyone emptying out of the library over the past few hours.

Your breath catches as you glance around, the dark silence of the hall sending a shiver down your spine. You were right, no one was here at this hour; it was simply you, and the stacks of books.

Book stacks you wouldn't mind being fucked against.

Okay, you really had to stop.

Glancing around once more, you slunk down into your chair a little lower, your fingers slowly leaving the table in favor of tracing along your leather pants. The pressure was getting unbearable, every moment of your past rendezvouz replaying in your mind as your panties grew wetter and wetter.

Ridoc's dick felt so good when he made you ride him.

You unzipped your leathers, your fingers slowly making their way underneath. A sigh escapes your lips as your fingertips brush your clothed clit, moving in small circles atop your panties.

Fuck... the sight of Liam jerking off to you too.

A soft whimper leaves your lips, your eyes widening into slits as you glance around one more time. You just had to make sure, certainly, that no one was in here.

Oh Gods... and Bodhi, spanking your ass-

"You do know this is a, public, space, don't you?"

Your eyes fly open, the figure standing just in the shadows of the nearby bookshelf causing your heart to race. Your hand flies from your pants as you shimmy in your chair, working to rezip.

"O-oh my Gods, uhm, oh my Gods-" you fumble, your vision blurred in embarassment as you stare down at your pants. Why wouldn't the damned zipper just fucking work, already?

Your breath hitches as a large, tanned hand moves atop yours. Your cheeks deepen in color, chest still rising and falling as the adrenaline courses through your veins.

"As your trainer," Bodhi says, his voice low. "I'd tell you to fix yourself, and send you to your dorm to finish this matter in private. Alone."

Your eyes slowly look up, meeting his darkened brown ones as he glares at you.

"But, as an interested party, I'm going to tell you to keep going."

You loose a shaky breath, his unforgiving stare a cross between anger and intrigue. You open your mouth to speak, but Bodhi's hand pushes your shoulder back against the back of the chair.

"Don't say a word, Y/N -- you got caught being a bad, bad girl." He tuts, leaning back to sit in the chair next to you. "Now, you answer to me."

You gulp, staying put as he stretches his legs out before him and gets comfortable, folding his muscled arms over his chest. He couldn’t possibly be serious!

"Keep going." He bites out, and you stare at him wide-eyed.

He scoffs. "What, now you can't hear, either? I said keep going." Your fingers fuddle with the waistband of your pants, shaking as you shove your leathers down to your knees.

"Mhm... play with that pussy, like the bad girl you fuckin' are."

Your fingers find your clit once more, the pleasure mounting in your core as Bodhi's eyes are glued to your every move. In an attempt to stifle your moan, your lip catches between your teeth, muffling the whimper. He's hovering over you in an instant, his hand braced against the back of your chair as his lips move mere inches from yours.

"Why so quiet tonight, hm?" He taunts, and you glare up at him as a wave of defiance rushes through you.

"B-because... it's a.. library." You grit out, failing to think of any other comeback. He laughs, full and unabashedly as he shakes his head low, his eyes meeting yours once more.

"You didn't seem to care that this is a library when you started playing with your cunt, though." He draws in a breath, his gaze flickering between your underwear and your face. "Bad riders don't get rewarded, Y/N... they only get punished."

Your heart races as two more figures appear from the shadows, their hungry gazes trained on you and your minstrations. A small swallow in fear is all Bodhi needs before his hands grip at your waist, hauling you atop the table and sending the books scattering to the floor.

"B-Bodhi... what-"

"Ohh, don't act like this isn't what you wanted," Ridoc sneers from beside you. He leans casually against the bookshelf, the obvious tent in his pants indication that maybe he wanted this to happen too.

"Oh, she wanted it alright," Bodhi huffs, grabbing your pants and roughly yanking them down your legs. He shucks your boots off, tossing them over his shoulder before ripping your pants over your feet. "Caught her playing with herself all alone in here."

Liam tsks, flanking the other side of the table as he watches in faux-disappointment. Had they all arranged this? Had they known you'd be in here?

"I-I..."

"Keep your mouth shut," Bodhi demands, yanking his own pants down just enough for his enormous erection to spring free. Your mouth waters at the sight; you'd forgotten how damn big he was.

"You're gonna work off this little violation, alright?" He chuckles, pulling you to the edge of the table so just your ass hung off the wood. His hand wraps around his cock, pumping it twice before sliding it against your soaking folds. You whimper, and he glares down at you.

"And... you'll be quiet if I say so, alright?" He chuckles, pressing the tip of his dick against your hole. "This is, after all, a library."

The sound threatening to erupt as he slides all the way in can only be described as nothing short of a deafening scream. He pushes himself all the way in, his pelvis flat against your thighs as you try and keep your noises at bay. Wasting no time, he yanks his cock out, only to slam back in with so much force that a small wail breaks free.

"Fuck... tight as fuck Y/N," he comments, speeding up as he fucks himself into you. "Squeezing my goddamned dick, baby."

You moan, the sound mixed with the creaking of the table beneath you. Bodhi's breaths come out in short pants above you, his gaze locked onto where his thick length is pounding into you.

"I... oh Gods," you cry out, your heaed turning to the side as you catch sight of Liam beside you. His tongue rakes across his bottom lip, his own cock hardening beneath his palm. The sight alone could make you cum, especially with the way Bodhi is pounding into you-

"Don't you dare cum," he growls, his hands bracing against your hips as he shoves you closer to him. Your gaze switches back to him as he leans over you, each stroke faster than the last as he barely pulls out anymore. "You're not cumming... not fucking yet."

You whimper as his mouth falls open above you, his eyes half-lidded as his thrusts grow sloppy. Your own impending orgasm has built up, threatening to burst any moment inside of you.

"B-Bodhi-"

"Fuck!' He shouts, your skin flush against his as his cock jumps, pumping his release inside of you. His breathing is heavy, his chest moving rapidly underneath the restraint of his zipped flight jacket. Your face twists in frustration, the heat in your lower tummy already receding as he yanks his cock out of you, a trail of clear semen following.

Sitting up on your hands, you only catch your breath for a minute before Liam saunters toward you, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His hands grip your knees, forcing your legs apart as you try and squeeze them together.

"You're not getting off that easy tonight -- I hope you've realized that."

You stare up at the gorgeous male; a dark, starved look crossing his features as he peers down at you. Your chest heaves as he slowly sits before you, only taking perch on the edge of the chair.

Goosebumps erupt across your skin as he leans forward, his lips mere inches from your glistening cunt -- and blows a stream of cool air across your skin. You clench around nothing, the sensation both extremely erotic and frustrating at the same time.

"Liam, please-"

"Ahh ahh," Bodhi tuts, leaning agaist a nearby table. "I said no mouthing off tonight, remember?"

Liam's dimple pops as he smiles, his handsome features only making you wish your cunt was pressed against his lips. You lie back down as he licks his lips once, his fingers softly trailing along the skin of your thighs. You whimper as he continues toying with you, barely able to keep your writhing at bay.

"Is this... what you want?" He says quietly, as his forefinger presses against your clit. You gasp, sitting up on your forearms to look down at his smug expression.

"Yes... oh Gods, please yes-" You grit out, as his digit slowly circles your clit. You squirm against the touch, wishing for more as he slides his finger around your sensitive bud.

"This isn't about you, though." He says, chuckling as he retracts his finger. He glances up at you before rising between your legs, his hands gripping your waist to flip you over onto your stomach. You gasp as your chest presses against the flat wood, and your stomach drops at the sight before you.

Ridoc stands on the other side of the table, his hand fisting his cock furiously as he gazes down at you.

"Open."

It's all you need to hear before widening your mouth, laying your tongue out flat just like he'd like it.

"Fuck... been waiting for this for damn near a week," he complains, slapping his length against your wet muscle. You squeak in pleasure as you feel Liam behind you, his fingers circling your pulsating opening.

"So wet, baby," he coos, as his ring and middle finger plunge into your aching pussy. He plunges them in, again and again-- the embarassing squelch of your vagina gripping his digits bringing a flush to your cheeks.

Ridoc's free hand caresses your chin, guiding his hard length to your awaiting mouth. You suck in a breath as he sinks his cock in, pushing it to the back of your throat as he groans. Gagging around him, he retracts, shoving back in moments later.

"Gods, Y/N -- you've been saving up for us, hm?" You hear the grin in Liam's voice, your cunt pulsating as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. Unable to speak as Ridoc continues fucking your mouth, you only groan in response.

Liam curls his fingers, the tips rubbing against the sensitive spot inside -- you feel as though you'll explode. You huff out a breath, tears forming in your eyes as Ridoc continues assaulting your throat. The combined sensations are too much, your orgasm building with each minstration.

"It's a good thing you're so sexy," he laughs, patting you on the cheek with his free hand. "You've been on my mind all week, baby."

Liam retracts his fingers, and you cry out in frustration. Ridoc pulls out too, the emptiness on either end leaving you hot, bothered, and again, unreleased.

"Don't worry," Ridoc chuckles. "We still have more we want from you."

He appears on the opposite side of the table, standing where Liam just was, his open palm landing a harsh slap against the meat of your ass. You whine, only wishing he'd pleasure you more.

You don't have to beg much.

His hands clench around your hips, drawing you up onto your knees and forearms on the table. You wail again as he spanks you, clenching only when you feel his erection slapping against your cunt.

"You want me, huh?" He teases, landing another slap when you don't respond. "You want me to fuck you?"

You scream in pleasure, glancing behind you to watch as he slides his cock in.

"Yes, please Ridoc! Please fuck me-"

Your words are cut short as a hand wraps around your throat, yanking your head to look before you. Liam chuckles, his hands quickly finding your breast as he stands beside Bodhi -- who's guiding his cock to your lips.

"I told you," he grumbles. "Bad girls... have to be quiet."

He shoves his length in, choking you as he pushes down your throat. Liam pulls your hair, keeping your mouth in place as Bodhi fucks his dick down your raw throat. Ridoc pants from behind you, his girth reaching unimaginable depths inside your quaking pussy.

"You like that, huh?" Bodhi shakes his head, plunging his cock deeper in your mouth. "Like taking my cock while Ridoc fucks you?"

Another wave of pleasure racks your bones, the feeling of their dicks in two of your holes almost more than you can take. You gurgle around Bodhi's length as Ridoc's balls slap against your clit, heightening your senses even more.

"Can't... can't take much more," you garble out, and Liam's fingers pinch your nipple.

"You'll take, what we give you."

You squeak, tears threatening to spill over as you try your hardest to keep your orgasm at bay. Your walls clench around Ridoc's big cock, each thrust pushing you closer, and closer...

He cums with a gasp, hot ropes of his release splattering across your ass. He heaves as he squeezes your right buttcheek, his spent cock resting against the other. Bodhi grits his teeth before releasing as well, his seed spraying down your throat. He yanks his cock out, and Liam moves to hold your jaw as you muster a cough.

"Swallow it all," he commands, and you do as your told. Bodhi retreats, resting lazily in a chair as the aftermath of his orgasm washes over him.

If only you could feel the same.

You gulp down his salty-sweet taste, your muscles growing tired after your night of pleasure. Well... as much pleasure as you were allowed, orgasm-denial and all.

Liam pulls you off the table, holding you upright as he slowly backs you into one of the shadowed bookshelves. You groan again as he kneels before you, Bodhi and Ridoc flanking your either side.

"We've had our fun with you... do you think you deserve to cum?"

You nod your head at his sultry words, and he doesn't even look away from your glistening pussy as he speaks to the other two.

"Do you think she deserves to cum?"

Bodhi tuts while reaching for your chest, openly palming your left breast.

“I suppose she’s been quite good for us tonight.”

Liam nods in agreement, his lips pressing a single kiss against your folds. Your hips involuntarily buck in protest, a short moan coming out as Ridoc rolls your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Shhhh.. patience, baby.”

His voice alone could get you off, such contrast to his usually irritating tone.

Liam’s tongue flicks out, swiping across your cunt as he rolls his thumb over your clit. You squirm, your breaths coming out in quick bursts.

“L-Liam I… won’t last long-“

He chuckles, the vibration edging you further. Ridoc replaces his fingers with his mouth, leaning in to suck and mark your right breast with his teeth. You lean your head back against the shelves, the feeling of ecstasy finally within reach.

“You wanna cum, Y/N?” Bodhi’s breath skates across your skin, goosebumps arising just below your ear as he squeezes your breast partially hard.

“Such a little tease with these gorgeous things,” he continues, and you begin shaking, the feeling of the orgasm within reach.

“Oh FUCK, I’m-“

Ridoc’s hand claps over your mouth as Bodhi holds you upright. You tremble and shake atop Liam’s tongue, the pent up energy from all night finally reaching its sweet release. Liam’s hands reach around and squeeze your ass, holding you in place as you cum on his lips.

“Anybody in here?”

Your eyes widen, heartbeat quickening as you hear the male guard’s voice ring out through the otherwise empty library. Your eyes meet Bodhi’s, and he holds a single finger to his lips. Shh.

“Hello?”

The voice calls again, and the three of you stand in silence against the darkness from the shelves. After a few minutes, the entry door opens and closes once more, and you finally release a breath.

“Well… that was close,” you laugh, the first real sentence you’d uttered in hours. Surely the sunlight would be peeking through the windows anytime now…

You step toward your discarded clothes, making to grab them and put them on when a strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you tightly against a very bare, very toned chest.

“Oh come on — you didn’t think we were actually finished here, did you?”

[captain-bubble-wrap]

QUINN WORRIED ABOUT YOU AFTER AN ACCIDENT 😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬

This one broke my heart to write. I'm sorry it took me longer than expected to finish.

CW | Car accident descriptions and injuries.

It had all happened so quickly; the literal blink of an eye. 

You had the right of way but the driver in the other car never saw you. One minute you were excited for that evening's plans, and the next you were drifting between consciousness and not. The sounds of everything had been so loud that your ears were ringing to the point of near deafness. Both the driver's side and rear of the vehicle were crunched and crumpled inwards; all of the airbags had deployed throughout the interior. The whiplash from being hit had jerked your head so violently to the side there had been enough force to give you a concussion and the seatbelt would fracture your collarbone; your right foot and ankle were broken due to so much impact against the gas pedal they had snapped; your right knee would hit so violently against the center console it would tear your MCL. 

All in a matter of seconds. 

You were headed to the arena to watch the Canucks play at home. Now, you were headed to the hospital in an ambulance. Worst of it all, Quinn wouldn't know until the game was over that anything had happened to you. Once he got to the arena, he was off his phone until post-game and you, yourself, wouldn't want such news given to him mid-game anyway. However, right now, you weren't conscious enough to even have that worry. 

The game would result in a Canucks win over the Oilers but that high-note to the night would come to a devastating end when one of the team's athletic trainers would break the news to Quinn. Pulled into the hall, following his post-game media interviews, Quinn would find himself unsure of how to process what he had been told. The trainer monitored his star player, taking in every subtle emotional que he'd show, but it was mostly just blank stares and shaky hands. 

"Are you alright?" The trainer asked. "Can we do anything for you?"

"Uh...no-- no, I uh..." Quinn stuttered. He had processed what he had been told, but to make comment on it was proving impossible. "I've gotta...I need to--"

Noticing Quinn was trying to say he needed to go, the trainer filled in the blanks. "Let us know if there's anything you need, alright? Be safe getting there."

Quinn nodded before turning towards the dressing room. He'd nearly trip over his own feet in the process, catching himself on the wall behind him. Back inside the players room, Quinn said nothing to no one, kept his eyes down and tried to hurry yet everything he picked up he fumbled. 

A few of the guys would notice their captain's change in demeanor but just watched on, because no sooner was Quinn in the room, he was out, and running and wouldn't stop until he was in his car. 

He'd remain in a complete daze the whole drive to the hospital. Traffic was still congested around the arena and Quinn tapped nervously on the steering wheel, silently pleading for things to get moving. 

"Ah, come on, come on, come on!" He said exasperated, his palms sweaty with anxiety. 

Eventually, he'd fly into the parking lot, and make a break for the automatic doors of the hospital. 

"May I help you?" Asked the woman behind the desk. 

"My girlfriend was involved in a wreck this afternoon. I don't know her room number."

The woman eyed Quinn curiously. His hair was still wet with sweat, forehead still marked red from his helmet, and he was wearing the same clothes he wore beneath his gear. There simply hadn't been time to worry about changing. By now, the wreck had been near five hours ago, but he couldn't help when he had arrived or the state he was in. He gave your name and she scrolled through the directory to give him your room number.

"Second floor of the Pattinson building," she said, rattling off directions of how to get to the ICU building. Quinn retained some, but not all, of the twist and turns he needed to take and would have to get assistance in finally getting to you. Outside your recovery room, your mother sat talking to one of the nurses in charge. She'd nearly interrupt the nurse to get up and embrace Quinn without a second thought.

"Oh my god, Quinn! I'm so glad you made it!"

"How is she doing? What happened?" His voice cracked and was shaky.

"I don't know! She told me she was headed to the arena, then I got word that she had been in an accident. It's not good, Quinn. I mean, she's okay, but it was a really bad wreck. They had to cut the car apart to get her out!"

"I need to see her, may I?"

"She's awake now, yes." The nurse replied, Quinn having turned to her for the permission. 

"Do you mind?" He asked your mother, and she gave her well-wishes with tears in her eyes. He'd give her another hug before quietly entering your room following her blessing. 

"Quinn?" You said, your voice hoarse from the intubation tube and not above a whisper. 

"Oh...baby," he choked out, not getting far into the room before his feet stopped moving. You looked so broken, laying there connected to all manner of machine and he hadn't begun to prepare himself before walking through the door. 

Your vision was blurry from the concussion, but you knew his outline regardless of the double vision. Had you felt better, you would have lifted your arms to him, but every limb felt like it weighted one hundred pounds each. Instead, they'd remain by your side when he finally managed to approach you. 

"Sweetheart, I'm-- I'm so--," he couldn't speak through the tears. He put his head against yours on the pillow, nuzzling against your temple as gently as he could. His weeping completely took away his ability to speak an audible word. As best as you could, you'd turn your face toward his, although minimal due to the neck brace. 

You couldn't handle hearing him cry like that, in fact, you had never seen Quinn cry until now. His fingers didn't know where to go, not knowing if where he placed them to touch you would cause you pain so instead, they clawed into the mattress and sheets.

"Quinny?" You whimpered, struggling, being unable to reach out for him.

"I'm-- I'm here, I'm here," he managed, his lips grazing your cheekbone. Your skin was bruised and red from the airbags, and every time you took a breath it hurt. Your eyes finally locked on to one another's with Quinn finding it so hard to see you like this, and him being powerless to do anything for you. "I'm sorry I-- I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. Baby, I'm-- so sorry."

"It's not your fault. I'm just glad you're here now," you strained. Your throat felt like you hadn't had a drink in a week, but you had to talk to him. 

His cheeks were flushed red and streaked with tears that continued to fall without end. All you wanted to do was reach up and wipe them away but lifting your arm was slow and he would stop you halfway through. 

"No, no, baby, it's-- I'm okay," he shushed, gently coaxing you to return your arm back to where it had been. "Just-- just stay still, sweetheart."

Closing your eyes, you bit your bottom lip to try to keep from crying yourself. Your ribs hurt and crying would absolutely be too much to handle. 

"I love you so much-- so, so much," he confessed, brushing some hair from your forehead. "I'm so sorry this happened to you! I wish I-- I wish I could have been-- there for you." He struggled again to speak, a hand pressed to his mouth to somehow stifle the emotions that were getting the better of him. 

"I love you, Quinn."

"I don't want to imagine being without you, Y|N--! I'm so glad you're-- I'm so glad you're alright." He was struggling to take a breath now, gasping for small little breaths between breaks in his words. If only you could have embraced him. 

"I'll be okay," you reassured, your eyes getting watery. 

"No, no, please don't cry sweetheart," Quinn pleaded, seeing you tear up. "It's okay-- It's-- You're going to be okay. I'm going to take care of you, I promise."

Your mind was in a haze from pain meds and the trauma, but you remembered tonight's game would mark the beginning of a 3-game road trip for Quinn's team. "You're going to be gone."

"I could probably request leave," he said, struggling to regain his composure. 

"I don't want you to do that. They need you." Talking was getting harder and harder for you do, but as long as he was there, you'd keep talking to him.

"Baby, you need me more!"

Your eyes pleaded for him to understand where you were coming from. "I don't know how long I'm going to be in here, Quinny. I just want to go home!"

"Shh, shh, baby, don't cry. Try to relax, please! This is the safest place for you right now. Trust me-- I wish you were home, too. I wish this had never happened." Quinn's eyes were so red as he frowned looking at you, smoothing your hair to calm you. No amount of his kind words or gentle touches were going to help you right now, not as long as you had to lay in that hospital bed and he had to leave you there. Soon, there was a knock at the door.

"I'm sorry, but we're nearing the end of visiting hours," the nurse said regrettably, seeing the state you were both in. "They resume tomorrow morning at 8am."

"I'll come see you in the morning before we fly out, okay?" He reassured you, a soft kiss placed on your forehead. "I promise."

You'd give him the faintest nod you could as silent tears marked your cheeks. "I love you."

"I love you so much more, sweetheart."

- - - 

Quinn couldn't stay long the next morning. Your care had taken longer than was originally anticipated and he was forced to remain in the hallway until the nursing staff had finished what they needed to. When he was allowed in, he spent the entire time stroking your skin, almost like he had forgotten what you felt like beneath his fingers. He had missed your warmth in his bed, waking up beside you in the morning, and the sound of your voice in his apartment. Even though you had to spend long spans of time apart throughout the season, this hit so much differently. You were hurt, not yet out of the woods, and he couldn't be with you. Now he had to leave you for over a week and still remain focused on his job as if nothing had happened. 

"Here, I brought you something," he said, trying to give you a reassuring smile. "That hoodie you always steal from me."

Struggling, you gripped it beneath your fingers as he laid it across your chest. You could tell he had sprayed it with that Dior cologne you had bought him for Christmas. "It smells like you. Thank you, baby."

"You're welcome," he smiled, kissing your bruised cheek. "Hopefully it gets you through till I get back."

"I don't want you to go," you whined, for good reason. 

His smile faded quickly in a frown, fingers brushing hair away from your face, "I don't either. I talked to your mom this morning. She said if they released you before I got back, she's stay with you in the apartment. She said it would be too hard to take you back to their house because of all of the stairs."

You were thankful Quinn and your mother had such a good relationship. They meant the world to you, both of them, and it was going to take both of them to get you back on your feet. 

Eventually, he had to leave, so to make it to the airport on time and it hurt worse to watch him go today than it had last night. You knew it was because you wouldn't be seeing him tomorrow. 

"I'll call you every night, okay? Your mom said they recovered your purse from your car and she's going to bring it to you today."

"Oh, okay," you mumbled, your heart hurting from him starting his goodbyes. "Thank you."

He kissed you one more time, for as long as he could before finally having to be on his way. 

"Please, be careful," you urged, your fingers curling around the fabric of his hoodie. "I love you, Quinn."

"I love you, too, sweetheart. And I will. I'll be extra careful, promise." 

- - - 

The ten or so days Quinn was away passed by so slowly. The video calls with him had been a blessing although anytime you had to say goodbye it had ripped open those emotional wounds all over again. Your mother had brought you home two days ago and it had been nice to be back in the bed you shared with him, now if only he was there with you. Currently, you were laying near the middle of the bed, tucked in with your foot propped up with a pillow. You had just had a light lunch and taken the pharmacy worth of pills that had been prescribed for your recovery. Soon, you'd be drifting off for a nap at around the same time Quinn would be returning home. 

"I just got her asleep," your mom said after welcoming him. 

"How's she doing?"

She looked down, her lips pursed. "It's been a slow go of it, if I'm being honest. That concussion turned out to be a lot more severe than they had originally thought which has made her sleep schedule a nightmare. She cries all the time, she doesn't want to eat, and the pain has given her an attitude at times. I know a lot of it is because she misses you. I know my daughter, Quinn."

He let a soft sigh escape his lips. He couldn't blame you for how you were feeling, he had just hoped to have better news to come home to. 

"All of her meds and doctors instructions are on the counter. She won't need to take anything until dinner, aside from the pain pills. I'll warn you: she doesn't like to take them. She doesn't like how they make her feel, and she only really takes them if the pain gets unbearable."

"Okay, thank you. I appreciate everything you've done."

"Thank you, hon, truly. I'm happy she has you."

Once your mother left, Quinn locked the door, turned all the lights off and made his way to the bedroom. Quietly, he pushed open the door and leaned against the doorframe. Initially he smiled, but the longer he looked, the longer he was reminded of everything that had happened and the reason you were bed ridden. The neck brace was no more, but the bruises still remained, and the boot on your right foot and ankle. Your breathing was shallow when he walked over towards you, that's when he caught sight of you still clinging to that hoodie he had brought you like a security blanket. Carefully, he'd climb into bed and lay down facing you. His hand found your free one; his fingers trailing across your skin hoping to gently coax you from the faint sleep he hoped you had drifted off to. 

"Sweetheart, can you hear me?" He whispered, placing a kiss to your shoulder. "I'm home, baby." 

You managed a whimper, a sleepy kind of affirmation that you had heard something that had stirred you, but your eyes remained closed.

"Baby, it's me," he said again, this time his lips against your cheek. 

After a few more seconds of his fingers against your body your eyes would blink open, a smile instantly appearing. 

"Oh, Quinny!" you mumbled, lazily. "How long have you been home?"

"Just a little bit, I've been watching over you, but I got selfish. I wanted you to know I was here."

Lifting your hand, you reached for his face. His curls were in full force today, soft and something you had missed playing with. Something so simple as hearing him breathing you had missed. Quinn was finally home, and for a while this time. 

"How are you feeling?" He asked, scooting closer to you. "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you more," you quickly replied. "I feel like I'm probably expected to. Everything hurts, I can't move without pain, breathing still sucks. I had a coughing fit yesterday and I thought I was going to die."

"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry. I was hoping you'd be feeling better."

"I'll get better now that you're home. I just wanted you to be here."

Quinn smiled, "Me, too, babe. Me too, but now we're both finally home. Everything is okay now."

You nodded as your eyelids felt heavy again. He'd give you another kiss, making sure you had everything you needed. 

"I'm okay," you said, "I'm just tired."

"Then sleep, baby, you need it. I'll be right here, okay? I'm all yours. Anything you need, anything you want, just let me know and I'll get it for you. It's my turn to take care of you."

Quinn would drift off to sleep with you, your fingers interlocked as you slumbered. Although it was unfortunate you were still severely hurt, this was the only place he wanted to be. He wouldn't let you out of his sight for anything. He doted on you like a princess, making sure you wanted for absolutely nothing. 

He was everything you could ever wish for. 

[celuere]

lockjaw

pairing: sub!arlecchino x fem!reader

context: when your husband comes home drained of her energy and completely exhausted, you decide to return the favor and give her a nice… treat…

cw: needy arlecchino, faceriding, teasing, overstimulation, there is only one hing that can make the knave scream and it‘s her wife‘s mouth, will be using wife and husband on arle in this one because i see her not minding what of the two you‘ll use on her, she lowkey loosed it idk man

word count: 2.5k

art creds: lilly of the valley

on a rather rainy saturday you were sat comfortably underneath the warmth of your covers, dragging a red pencil over the children’s recent homework. with the clock chiming in for 11pm, the other side of your bed was still suspiciously empty. 

weird. usually she should be home by now… perhaps she is staying in her office at zapolyarny palace tonight due to the heavy downpour, which would be inconvenient. the two of you still had to plan the upcoming vacation for the hearth, a break with the children has been long overdue. you were thinking of visiting inazumas‘s watatsumi island, the cultural aspect and stunning scenery of the inazuman region always appealed you, but given your husband‘s status and the latest events between the last fatui harbinger and the shogun… maybe chenyu vale would also be a lovely destination.

your head jerked up as you were pulled out of your train of thoughts by the sound of a heavy door being shut, followed by some faint fontainian cursing echoing through the halls.

seems like your husband did make it home through the awful weather. you did not bother leaving the comfort of your bed as you already heard the soft thuds of her feet dragging her up the stairs while your gaze was still fixed on the mathematical equation before you.

eventually you‘ll have to give the kids another lesson about addition and multiplication. the old metal hinges of the door creaked softly in response to your husband pushing her way inside. 

„i‘ll get them oiled tomorrow.“, she‘d say almost every time, only to end up forgetting it in the midst of her harbinger work.

but not today.

today you were simply just greeted with a soft, almost inaudible „good evening, love.“. the lack of her usual deeper, serious tone caused you to lift your eyes up from the papers you were currently holding and… dear archons.

„what on earth happened with you?“

„don‘t mention it.“, with her hair dripping wet from getting caught in the weather, down to her… dirty and crinkled clothes… your husband looked like she‘s seen hell. you could swear she looked around five years younger when she left the house this morning. even her hair looked like a mess.

you watched your spouse slowly starting to shed out of her clothed, starting by unbuttoning her silken blazer, you could audibly hear her taking a very deep inhale through her nose, „i wanted to be home two hours ago, if it were not for the glorious ideas of our children.“, by now you could see they’ll steam slowly emitting from her wet strands, gotta put that curse to use somehow.

„what kind of idea required you to come home looking like… a dirty cat...?“, you put the homework aside to focus your attention fully on her as her hands fumbled with the buckle of her belt. what a sight.

„they thought it to be a clever… almost glorious idea to play hide and seek in the forest nearby the town. only to come back with not one but two of their siblings missing.“, your eyes widened as she explained the recent events to you, but just as you wanted to speak up, arlecchino raised her hand and continued talking, „i naturally… reprimanded them and walked with them back to their… playground where i spent the last two hours looking for the rest of these buffoons. with my footwear. in muddy terrain. [name], they will spend the rest of the month helping around in the house. no missions. strict bedtime. the garden is long overdue for a change anyway. and we‘re not getting them the two dogs they have been begging for.“, she clicked her tongue in frustration as she failed to open up the belt before simply giving up and letting her head sag along with her shoulders.

it has been a while since you saw her so fed up. 

„honey… calm down now…“, sighing, you pushed back the blanket that was covering your lower half and rose up from the mattress. crimson eyes fixating your face as you came to a stop before her and slowly started to open up her belt.

„the children learned their lesson… sure, that idea was indeed not of high intelligence but they‘re kids at the end of the day. nobody got hurt and they‘re all safely tucked away in the security of our house now… and that is all what matters.“, your hands slowly pulled the leather away from her pants and placed it neatly over the chair in front of your make-up desk.

„i am very well aware of that, it‘s just… archons above, they scared the living daylights out of me…“, a sigh so deep and heavy left her throat that it had you staring up her for a good few moments, finally taking a closer look at her beautiful face which was laced with exhaustion.

„i can understand that more than well enough… but getting yourself worked up all over again will do you no good, darling. was the rest of your day at least better?“, you hooked your fingers underneath the hem of her pants to tug them down for her.

„don‘t. get me started. not now. not when i‘m with my wife…“, her black hand reached up to tug some of your lost strands back behind your ear.

and something clicked inside your head.

it has been a while since she was on the receiving end. actually… it has been months since then. and seeing how… exhausted she was right now as she got changed into her sleepwear…

before you could stop yourself, your hand grabbed after her wrist just as she wanted to put on her pants. your husband raised a questioning eyebrow at your move.

„something the matter?“

„get on the bed. please… i have just the right idea to relieve you.“, tugging her now gently towards the bed by her wrist… arlecchino did not protest. at all. maybe she was clueless. or maybe she was just too exhausted to care.

she wordlessly watched you crawl onto bed and lay down flat on your back before she sighed, „ma cherie… i would love to take care of my wife, but i really am not in the mood to buckle up one of our various toys today.“

she gave you one of her rare apologetic smiles as she wanted to proceed with putting her pyjama pants on.

„peruere.“

the usage of her real name caused her to look back at you in slight bewilderment. that name was reserved for serious, intimate situations after all. whenever you wanted her to either listen to you or when she had you gripping and moaning into the sheets until your voice grew hoarse and your knuckles white.

„sit. and i don‘t mean in front of or besides me.“, your face showed not a single sign of amusement nor sarcasm as you gestured with one of your manicured nails to your head. you could see her visibly gulp at the realization of what you were implying.

„i… ma chérie, tu ne peux pas t'attendre à ce que je…“

„my darling, you can‘t possibly expect me to…“

„i am. now sit. please… you‘d do the same for me, i‘m certain…“, that seemed to do the trick for her because just mere moments later her pants found themselves discarded on her side of the bed and she making her way up to your face, even if she was hesitant at first.

„don‘t be shy now… come here, gorgeous…“, you allowed yourself to grab onto her hips to speed up this torturously slow process, the mattress sinking down further beneath her weight. she lets a soft gasp out at your grip before you were met with a wonderfully sweet view on the small wet spot that formed on your wife‘s plain red panties.

„excited, are we, hm…?“, you could not keep that teasing grin off of lips even if your life depended on it. seeing the usually composed and dominant woman struggling to maintain eye contact with you was too adorable to not bathe in her embarrassment.

„quit that attitude or i‘ll-“, a sharp inhale followed as you interrupted her by pressing a soft kiss right onto the wet stain on her clothed pussy before you invited yourself to pull the fabric aside.

„i barely touched you and you‘re almost dripping over my mouth… who would think the knave is so easy to rile up…“, your mouth almost started to water at the sight of her slick folds, waiting to be licked clean by none other than you.

„a-are-“, she had to clear her throat, „are you done with torturing me- Oh-!“, a strong hand found its way almost immediately into your hair the moment you pressed her down on your mouth, your tongue gliding up her cunt, gathering her arousal before you almost eagerly swallowed. this woman tasted so unbelievably good and she had no idea. not a single clue of how every small gulp of her fluids snapped the restraints of your self control one by one. sharp nails scratched along your scalp as you finally paid her almost aching clit some attention by sucking her into your mouth, nibbling on the sensitive bundle of nerves and believe it or not. it did not take long until her hips started moving against your face. 

arlecchino peruere tried her utmost to keep her voice down, to not let you know how badly she enjoyed her wife eating the living the daylights out of her pussy, but she gave it all away by how she almost desperately humped your face. one hand keeping your head in place as the other had an almost deadly grip onto the wooden headboard. she did not know how badly she needed this, to just hand over the leash every once in a while. 

and as expected. it did not long for your husbands first high of the evening to hit her like an aquabus. thighs quivering around your head. her juices running down both sides of your face as she rode out her orgasm on your face, but even then she barely made any sounds besides the occasional gasp and „shit“ being muttered underneath her hot breath. 

much to your dismay.

that is why you kept her pressed down. kept her wet pussy right on your mouth as you pressed your tongue flat against her before you let movements of her own hips do the rest as her arousal ran down your throat. 

„fuck…yes…“, the humping slowly turned into a more rocking motion, dragging her whole cunt over your messed up face. you ignored how soaked your own panties were by now. or how you were clenching around nothing. all of that did not matter when the first soft moan slipped past her lips as her second orgasm came crashing down on her way sooner than expected. she was trembling by now. you could even feel the hand gripping your hair shivering slightly and she has the ridiculous idea to try and get off your face. we couldn‘t have that. right?

„you are not going anywhere…“, bringing her dripping pussy back down on your face by her thighs, you knew exactly what do with your tongue this time. 

„ah-!!! hold on-! th-that is not- hah-!!“, a moan from the depths of her throat so guttural bounced off the walls, it sent a fucking shiver down your spine. slipping your tongue inside her obviously seemed like the perfect choice. 

she was so incredibly sensitive, every little move of yours seemed to sent her jolting against you. and she was whining. whining and whimpering, begging for a short break, to just let her breathe for a second when you continued to tonguefuck her, your nose nuzzled against her swollen clit, your whole face was covered in sweat and other bodily fluids by now from her earlier faceriding. 

so celestia help this tortured soul when the wooden headboard seemed to slowly start cracking underneath her literal deathgrip. she could not handle her wife. she couldn‘t handle the overwhelming pleasure sending bolts of ecstasy through her body and she certainly couldn‘t handle the third orgasm you shoved down her throat. you could barely see anything down there other than few black and neatly trimmed pubes, but you were drowning in her.

and did she really think it would stop here?

„b-break- l-love please… i-“, was the knave sobbing right now? sobbing over getting her literal soul sucked out of her pussy? you will never let her live this down. ever.

but in the back of your mind you already knew she will pay you back. tenfold. but that was a problem to worry about for another day. the only thing that mattered now was getting her through a fourth orgasm now. 

clearly, you weren‘t nearly as skilled as her when it came to mouthwork, but you memorized quite a lot from your past experiences with her. for example how to nicely curl up your tongue in an enjoyable manner for her and you didn‘t know if hated or loved it by the way her moan rung in your ears.

pathetic, was she not?

amidst the fog of her taste covering your mind, you could not help but moan into her warmth, pressing your legs together to somehow soothe the almost hurting emptiness between them. it has been a while since you were this down. you are sure that there must have formed a stain on the sheets underneath you already.

and you did not even notice when the juices from her fourth climax dripped into your mouth. you were so fixed, so obsessed with savoring every single drop of her arousal as the poor woman above you tried calming down from the raw energy clouding her mind, lungs burning along with every single one of her poor muscles. her thighs were practically numb by now.

but neither of you noticed the smell of burnt wood filling the room until you finally opened your eyes to look up at your poor husband.

only to see the headboard she was holding onto for dear life simmering and smoking underneath her hand, with a small flame slowly starting to form right underneath, her arm completely drowned in a bloody red.

„m-mh-!!!!“, now slapping her thighs and trying to catch her attention, you were the one getting nervous now.

„hm…? what is it now…?“, she groaned as she slowly lifted her head up- and groaned even more at sight of the destroyed headboard.

„archons above, not again.“, she ran a hand over her sweaty face before snapping her fingers and getting off of your face. the fire simply seized from existence.

with a soft tint of pink decorating her face she looked down at you, crimson eyes screaming anything but soft, „just to be… clear… this never happened.“

„you were a bit too loud for that to be true-“, another snap echoed from somewhere far away, rendering you silent. you just stuck out your tongue to her.

but it was worth it when you watched her try to get out of bed the next morning without looking an old grandma.

[wqlfstqr]

Hii can you write Leo x Reader where r wears a dress or skirt and Leo can’t focus bc she looks soooooo perfect? ( friends to loversss ) idk i feel like it would be cute😅

⋆𐙚 short skirts and short circuits 𖥻 leo valdez

▰▰ pairing : leo valdez x fem!reader

Leo has tried way too hard not to crush on his best friend. But when she suddenly decides to wear a skirt— yeah. That'll be a problem for him.

mari talks! i love leo requests hehe

warnings: no use of y/n, no cabin mentioned for reader.

Leo Valdez is great with machines. Engines, gears, blueprints, schematics. He knows it all. That's his thing. And he excels at it.

With humans, on the other hand... He isn't that great in that department. Especially when it comes to girls. Definitely when it comes to his best friend casually wearing a skirt around him.

She has always been cute. He knows that. Adorable. With paint on her fingers half the time, hair always pulled back into a ponytail, denim overalls over her camp orange shirt.

She has been his person since day one at camp. The one that always had his back— comfort in the shape of the only girl who doesn't treat him like a ticking time bomb. So yeah, Leo has always found her beautiful, to say the least.

But she isn't supposed to look like that.

She isn't supposed to just come into bunker nine wearing a skirt. A short skirt. And makeup that make her eyes sparkle in a way he thinks not even fireworks could replicate.

Safe to say, he almost sets something on fire the second his eyes fall on her.

"Hey." She says casually, like she didn't just rewrite the laws of his universe.

He drops his wrench with a loud clank. "Uh- hello."

Smooth. Real smooth, Leo.

He blinks at her, totally stunned. "Are you... going somewhere?"

"No? Just felt like dressing up." She shrugs.

Dressing up. Just because. Just felt like turning Leo's world upside down. Perfect.

Leo turns back to his half-built project and wills his hands to stop shaking. Focus. Focus on the bolts. Not the way her skirt twirls when she moves. Not the way her lips shine with lipgloss.

"Watcha working on today?" She comes closer to him, and Leo feels as stiff as a board.

"I— um— a new..." Gods, has he forgotten how to talk? "Stabilizer for- y'know... Festus."

She probably doesn't realize what she's doing to him, because she simply smiles and sits on a nearby stool, propping her chin on her hand to watch him work. Like always. Except this time, she's swinging her legs, almost as if she has a personal vendetta against his attention span.

He fumbles for the wrench again and nearly knocks over an entire tray of gears.

"You okay?" she asks, innocent and sweet and so pretty, Leo thinks it should probably be illegal.

"I—I'm fine. Yep. Totally. Great." His voice cracks a little. "Just short-circuited a little. I mean. Not me. The gear. Yeah, the gear short-circuited. I'm... great."

"You're acting weird." She giggles. "And I mean, weirder than usual."

"I'm acting..." Leo turns to look at her, eyes wide, hands shaking. "You're the one acting weird! You— Look at you! It looks like you're actively trying to melt my CPU."

She tilts her head, giggling innocently as if she doesn't understand what she's doing. Meanwhile, her legs are still softly swinging and the lipgloss shines under the light. This is so unfair.

"You're staring." She teases, but she can't help the way her voice sounds a little hopeful.

Leo opens his mouth. Closes it. Then opens it again.

"I'm not— I mean. Maybe. A little?" He scratches the back of his head. "It's not my fault you came in here looking like that, okay?"

"Like what?" Her eyes widen, mocking innocense as she stands up and walks closer to him.

He points to the skirt as if it personally tried to end him. Which, it really did. Almost killed him.

She raises her eyebrows, looking down as if she just realized she's wearing that damn skirt. "So the skirt's the problem?"

"No! I mean— there’s no problem with the skirt." He groans, hiding his face behind a dirty rag. "It's just... I'm— I've been trying hard. Really hard not to have a crush on you for like, years, and now you just show up like this and— and you really can't do that!"

"Why can't I? I mean it's just—" She stops once she has fully processed his words, the teasing smile drops from her face, replaced by something more softed, almost vulnerable. "You have a crush on me?"

Leo blinks at her, surprised. "I mean, obviously? Have you met you?"

There’s a beat of silence, her cheeks feel warm and it's definitely not because of the steam always coming from whatever Leo's working on.

"And you look pretty." He blurts out, feeling more nervous as the silence stretches. "I mean, you always look pretty. But like— extra pretty. Today. Right now."

"Are you flirting with me, Valdez?" She asks, voice suddenly unsure even as she tries to keep teasing him.

"No. I mean. Yes? I'm trying to." He admits, looking down. "I never really know what i'm doing when i'm around you."

She stares at him for a second, lips parted as if she's trying to figure out if she heard him right. And then she laughs. For a second, Leo thinks she's laughing at him. But no. That laugh is not teasing or mean, it just sounds... relieved.

"Leo." She says softly, smiling at him. "I've been trying to flirt with you for months."

His eyes snap up. "What?"

"Yeah." Hesitantly, she steps a little closer to him. "But since you never acknowledged it, I just kinda figured... you weren't interested."

Leo thinks maybe he'll be exploding like his inventions in just about any second.

He scrubs a hand down his face. "Gods, I'm so dumb."

She giggles, reaching to pull his hand down, instead taking it in hers. "Maybe just a little oblivious?"

"Definitely." He agrees, finally dropping the rag he has been torturing with his hands. "But—"

He takes a deep breath, eyes connecting with hers as he hesitantly places his hand on her waist. He tugs her closer, guiding her to stand between his legs where he's sitting.

"This is me noticing." He tells her, voice still unsure. "And the flirting? It's working. Really working. Like i'm about five seconds from completely short-circuiting."

She's blushing, he can see it now that he's closer. "So... what happens now?"

Leo doesn’t know where he finds the courage to, but instead of replying, he's suddenly leaning forward, heart in his throat. And he kisses her.

She melts into it immediately, like this is something she has been waiting too long for. And it's a little messy. But it's perfect, because it's them.

When they finally break apart, she rests her forehead against his, a smile tugging on her lips, the lipgloss smeared. "I should definitely wear skirts more often."

He groans. "I'm never getting anything done ever again."

But Leo Valdez has never been more glad to short-circuit.