#it just gets weird when it comes my romantic imaginings

[wings-of-ink]

Hello everyone!

I just wanted to pop in and say hey and give some updates. They're all very mild, but I feel like I've been quiet lately so I wanted to pop something out here for you so you get a feel for where I'm headed.

I have some asks that have piled up and I will be chipping away at them here and there. I had a weird week that I am recovering from, and my mind has been super unfocused lately. I'm doing better now, but had a bout with a few days of insomnia and anxiety. I am already a sleepy-sad mess in the winter, so this does me no favors. I'm popping in when I have some bursts of energy. Your asks and comments have made me smile, think, and get pumped for the days to come though, so I thank you for that. ^_^

Even though my energy is down, I am still finding enjoyment in working on some of the extras! Even if I can only work in short bursts, it's helped me find some respite. I have worked out a short-form character creation for the Cursed Birthday extra. I also have that outlined. My goal is to have that released by the end of this month!

I still plan on opening a Patreon soon, but I have kept putting it on the back burner as I focus on just making it through this time of year, lol. I am just so stupid-tired most of the evening when I have free time and am very over it. In future years, I'll be working ahead during the other seasons and then take a solid block of time between December and January off. I vote that we hibernate.

Before I open up Patreon, I want to have some work banked up and ready to go. Part of the benefits will be voting on what you want to read, but I need to have some basis to go off of for that and content to put out in between. I'll post some teasers and samples so you can see if the extras I have in store will tickle your fancy. I have a running list of both SFW and NSFW extras I'd like to write. Someone asked me earlier to spill (leak) some of my tea on these, so I will happily share a few things I have cooking in my noggin.

Regular (mild) Extras: * A series of stories about being "snowed in" with each of the ROs and how they spend the day with MC. * Each RO will get character-specific stories, featuring cute and romantic moments for things like Zahn's birthday or baking cakes with Oswin.

Spicy Extras: * A series of tales that are erotic dreams that the MC has while traveling with the group. Anything can happen here. * Each RO will have stories featuring spicy content relative to their character's desires. For example, in the first month of Patreon, Oswin will be featured in the spicy tier. The story is titled, "Honey," and is interactive. You can use your imagination. (shout out to the anon who already read my mind and called me on this, lol)

**Addendum** I remember what else I was going to include here so I'm editing. I have some corrections (typos and grammar and such) and a patch for Zahn's moment in Chapter 5 to put through but I cannot get the itch "Butler" application to work on my laptop still. I can't patch without breaking saves all over again. I am trying to find another computer I can do this on so I don't break saves just for a patch.

I think those were the main bits I wanted to touch on (hell if I actually remember, lol). I am recovering from my weird week and am happy it's the weekend. My new kitties are doing fabulous as well. They are very cute and keep me on my toes. Oh, and Arlo knows how to open doors, so there's that. Miles, who was very shy at first, has become a sweet little socialite too.

Arlo just looks grumpy, but he is an absolute ham.

Miles likes to lay with his feets dangling.

[vse-kar-vem]

why is my self esteem so weird broo

[darcyolsson]

on this episode of ivicky: my former high school enemy still seems to be vaguely into me but also obsessed w the idea of not ever admitting this to me or himself (?) until we're both dead

[tritoch]

the other thing I find very funny about trying to write a canon compliant wol is taking all the wolship hints extremely seriously.

I don't really wolship because I'm just fundamentally not that kind of fan. But I know for those who are, the sheer number of romance hints FFXIV throws at you can be overwhelming to parse in a context where you have a preferred/intended wolship, particularly if you're not attracted to the gender the hints are coming from in the first place (a particular tip of the hat to wlw fans navigating the g'raha of it all). I've seen plenty of people write around them or write them out or be like "no aymeric was for real inviting my wol to a nice platonic zero-subtext dinner," and God bless all of you.

But it's really funny to imagine them all as all-too-real but unreciprocated or perhaps unreciprocatable. The sheer scale of it is comedy. Spoilers for all of FFXIV follow.

Oh God, the Lord Speaker wants to have dinner, just the two of us, at his family estate and not a government building. I hope he doesn't bring up his crush on me. Thal's balls he's about to bring it up—oh thank God there's an emergency. Oh no someone got hurt! Oh no it's the teenage girl with a crush on me.

Your life is a cosmic joke. You watch the Sultana get poisoned and all your friends probably die to save your life and it's kind of all your fault in some ways, I mean at the very least you should've spoken up when they gave the teenager a private army, and then the teenage boy speaks up and is like, "hey, I guess we have at least one ally. What about if we go visit that guy who is really obviously down unbelievably bad for you and wants to lick the sweat off of you." and you have to be like, yeah, Alphinaud. Great idea. Let's do it. I'll call him.

(brief interlude: also haurchefant's DEATH hits so good if you don't reciprocate. It's okay. He gets it. You're going through a lot and even if you had time to sort through your feelings maybe you're just not into him. That would be okay! You can love someone, or the idea of someone, without needing it to be romantically reciprocated. That's chivalric, even. Knightly. So he won't ask you to lie to him and say you love him as he lies dying in your arms. He's not so low as all that. But could you smile for him as you used to? That true hero's smile of yours. And you do, and he dies. And you both know he died for a lie, in a way, or a flight of fancy. And he's okay with that. Are you? Should you be? Should he?)

Then you're into Stormblood and it's like wow, okay. That last part was all high fantasy, of course there were loyal knights and elegant princes. But this is war. Imperialism. Grim business, surely there's no way—oh no BOTH handsome young revolutionary leaders seem to have a special interest in you?! And so does the Crown Prince of the Empire? Come on, man. I should get to do the whole horrors of war thing without having to also deal with this. Gaius sucked and it was weird that he let his foster daughter run around being openly obsessed with him but at least he never made it my problem.

You can't even get away from it across dimensions. Shadowbringers is a horror story about going on a teambuilding camping trip with your work colleagues for some reason except they all suddenly got really hot and they keep touching you affectionately on the shoulder and being like "I care for you and your happiness. Truly." And also you're being stalked for the whole camping trip by two old men who are obsessed with you. The false climax of the story is that the one old man tries to betray you and give a dramatic monologue about how he loves you but the two of you are doomed by the narrative and then the other old man shoots him in the back like "no actually its MY turn to betray them and give a dramatic monologue about how our love is doomed by the narrative." Then the real climax is old man #1 backstabbing old man #2 in the middle of said monologue before old man #2 dies and gives ANOTHER wistful monologue about his doomed love. Then for the patches they're like okay so we have this even CRAZIER old man who's gonna strike when you're weak and give a dramatic monolo—

and that's without even getting into the literal soulmate ghost only you can see

my warrior of light never felt more betrayed than in that scene where Y'shtola is like "haha Alisaie and G'raha have crushes on the warrior of light." Like I thought we were COOL, Y'shtola! I work here! This situation is already in such a delicate balance! Right when I got here I met Alisaie's "friend from work" who was like oh haha so YOU'RE the one she can't stop talking about and we never followed up on that because the woman died horrifically like five minutes later right in front of us! Then when Vauthry got away and we had to do all that shit with the dwarves, G'raha kept pausing every ten minutes to be like oooooh I'm so old I'm gonna die soon...at least I got to spend some time with some people who are really important to me...in fact here's what I'd tell the person who's most important to me...actually u know them really well haha. And I just had to sit there and be like wow, dude, crazy.

even in the face of apocalypse you still gotta go back in time like 12,000 years and there's somewhere there who makes you sit and listen to his story which is that the purpose of his whole godlike immortal life was to be in a throuple with you and old man #2 from the camping trip. and you just gotta sit there the whole time knowing you/your past life is the one who broke up the throuple over politics. He's like come help me harangue the old man into streaking in public, he'll do it if you ask.

then you meet and fight and kill God and you gotta turn to the team and be like hey sorry guys can you give me a sec. I'm gonna call God by her real name because we met one time for like four days and after that the promise of meeting me again was one of the things that sustained her through her millennia of suffering. Not like that but like. Idk. Just gimme a sec!

It's a relief when you finally get to Lahabrea and he's like actually I still don't fuck with your vibe. Like thank GOD.

And my WoL is very obviously dad-shaped so Dawntrail had a very specific energy for me but I understand that for plenty of people your deepening rapport with Wuk Lamat had a romantic subtext (same for Koana depending on how you read a few of his lines). And personally I think it's the height of comedy to be like, noooo, babe, your highness, I know you and your brother the king are in love with me and want me to stick around and support you emotionally through this governmental transition haha. But it's just...the cursed wineglass, babe. I GOTTA go figure out what's up with this cursed wineglass.

It's a running gag in some of the more optional content that people are like "you have an unreasonable number of hobbies and side gigs" to the WoL from time to time. But if every time you tried picking up a new hobby some new elf started baring their soul to you, you too would be like Hey Jessie (or sometimes Krile or Tataru), my good friend who is one of the only people in my life who knows what professional ethics and work-life boundaries are, any chance you need muscle on a gig on the other side of the world? Ideally with only Cid and his ex so all libidinal energy in the room is directed towards machinery or someone who isn't me?

ironically one of the only places you get a break from psychosexual obsession is the nier content

[themeraldee]

The Lucky Winner

[Masterlist]

18+ Only | 8.5k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Pre-season 1. Voice kink. Oral sex. Unprotected sex.

Summary: You're a huge fan of Homelander but you always feel too awkward to ever meet your hero at a meet & greet or similar events. Your friends enter you into a Vought competition, where you've got a chance to win a phone call from Homelander himself.  

Author’s Note: My first Homelander fic! Also, this is the first time I’m publishing my work. Obligatory English isn’t my first language so apologies if there are any strange turns of phrase but I happily take on criticism so feel free to correct me. I want to get better! I’m also not very good with sticking to the right tense. This is very self-indulgent so read with caution. 

You can’t decide whether to hug or strangle your friends. They’re trying to be nice, you get that. But this goes against everything you’d ever do! Lovely as they are, they’ve entered you into a competition to meet your hero. To meet Homelander. The thought alone makes your head spin, your heart pound and stomach twist on itself.

‘It was just 20 bucks, what’s the worst that can happen? You win?’ Reads your friend’s message. You roll your eyes, hearing the teasing tone in your head. They know about your not-so-hidden obsession and at the end of the day they just wanted to brighten their friends day.

And sure, you are a fan. Okay, fine. You’re a big fan. Obsessed even. Every-wall-of-your-bedroom adorned-with-posters-and-promotional-materials obsessed. But you don’t want to appear like that. Last thing you’d want to come across as to your idol, you hero, is an annoying screeching fan begging for his attention.

You don’t want to be part of the crowds pawing at him, inching as close as they can just to graze his uniform with their fingertips. You don’t want to look like a feral fan. You have manners. You don’t want to be just another face, just another adoring fan begging for him to look your way. It’s hard to admit to yourself that you’ll never be more than a fan. So you don’t go to meet & greets. You don’t go to premieres. You don’t pay exorbitant fees just to meet your hero.

You’re a romantic at heart. You always imagine the first meeting to be one for the books. Maybe he saves you from a burning building flying you down, his stars and stripes billowing in the wind as he looks at you with concern etched into his handsome face, his piercing blue eyes scanning you for injuries as he talks to you with a soothing rumbling tone that sends shivers down your spine. You can clearly imagine him going, Are you okay miss?, as he descends to the ground. Or you just happen to bump into each other but he catches you with his strong arms and fast reflexes and just like that it’s love at first sight. Scenarios after scenarios. All varieties of ‘meet-cute’s play in your head on a daily basis. You spend your time getting lost in your head, dreaming of the day when it will be your turn to be the protagonist of the story. When will you be the damsel in distress? But you sigh and move on with life, because this isn’t a romance novel.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself (and others) when people ask you why you haven't tried to meet your hero. 

Oh I just don’t want to be a weird obsessive fan. Plus it’s expensive!

Meeting heroes is technically easy. Vought gives people many opportunities to see their heroes for a pretty penny. They parade their heroes around like exotic animals in a zoo on a daily basis. 

For you the reality is that you simply can’t handle seeing your hero up close and personal, let alone talk to him. How are you not meant to get flustered in front of what you considered to be perfection? How are you meant to find your words or even come up with words worthy of being uttered in his presence? You’re meant to look into his eyes, tell him how much of a fan you are and not fluster and burst into tears from the anxiety coiling in your gut as you wait your turn? 

You don’t want that. You don’t want to be just another babbling fan. You want to stand out. You want him to remember you. You want him to think about you.  But you’re also a realist and you know that at most he’ll think you just another annoying fangirl if he even grants you a passing thought. So you spare yourself those hurt feelings and you avoid meet & greets, you avoid all the fan-targeted conventions, events, promotional campaigns or competitions. 

Or you always have. Until now it seems. You again scroll up in the group chat where your friends surprised you with an entry to the newest competition Vought advertised. It was presented as a fundraiser. All proceeds are planned to be donated to Samaritan’s Embrace. A simple $20 entry that would grant you a chance to be one of five lucky winners to get a personal phone call from Homelander. 

A fat chance of that, you thought when you first saw the competition announced on both Vought’s and Homelander’s twitter accounts. With a competition that invites Homelander's country-wide fanbase, there really is no chance of you winning. You half-comfort yourself with that thought. You don’t know where you’d even start should you win. Part of you thinks that maybe ‘meeting’ him over the phone could be bearable as he wouldn’t be able to witness just how badly you’re holding it together.

But then you think back to all the videos you’ve watched. The reels and the tiktoks you’ve saved. The podcasts and interviews that at this point you play almost religiously. He's perfect in every way but you're particularly fond of his voice just rumbling in your ear when it gets nice and low as he talks in lengths about the upcoming movie or his most recent save. A while back you bought yourself a decent set of noise-cancelling headphones with great audio quality and suddenly it felt like he was right behind you just purring into your ears. Very few interviews record with good enough microphones to capture how mesmerising his voice is but those that do get saved and played on repeat sending shivers down your spine, following you to bed and invading your dreams. So no, maybe a phone call wouldn’t make the experience any easier on your poor heart. 

You calm down after the initial panic reaffirming yourself with the reality where there’s no chance that you’ll get picked anyway. You text your friends again, kindly thanking them for thinking of you as you shook your head with an amused smile. That’s that done and forgotten about.

Or so you think. Few weeks down the line the mental discourse has long left your mind. The conversation moves on and your friends don’t mention anything since. That’s why it’s no surprise when you pick up the unknown call after the third ring with ease, casually answering with, “Hello, Y/N speaking.” 

Homelander looks through the list of winners Ashley brought to his desk with a scowl on his face. He’s grumpy, having to jump through everyone’s hoops is grating on him, slowly chipping away at his showmanship armour. This is just another nail in the coffin. Now he has to make private phone calls?

He wants to be revered, loved. With people bending over backwards just to get his attention. Sure, that’s right up his alley. Get the crowds to scream his name, be grateful for his divine presence. What he isn’t a fan of is making others think they’re special. He’s the special one. Where does Vought get off thinking that he’s got the time to call and visit his fans one-on-one.

He rolls his eyes looking through the unimpressive line-up that Vought carefully curated. One of each demographic, trying to hit all the targets Vought wants him to improve his numbers with.

Each candidate has a sheet of talking points assigned to them, things to highlight, mention or even promote to each one of the fans. Normally Homelander would throw Vought’s carefully crafted response straight back to their faces but right now he’s not in the slightest interested in being clever or the fans' idea of ‘authentic’ so he’d rather rattle off a few lines from a curated list of party lines. At the end of the day he doesn’t care for this. Talking to five individual fans doesn’t help him in the grand scheme of things. This isn’t happening in public, there’s no one here to witness his generosity. Nobody to witness a god, looking down and gracing his followers with his benevolence.

Vought believes the individual approach will be worth it in the long run. That apparently fans will come running to any future events and competitions seeing as real people they might know have won in the past. All Homelander sees is at most five twitter mentions from a few nobodys.

He’s got about an hour in the calendar to get through all of these. Though he's banking on this taking a lot less time. There are many more important things he could be doing instead. 

He flips through the files again, each profile is filled out with a name, number and a photo, deciding on the least painful order. A young boy, an elderly woman, a middle aged comic enthusiast, some punk teenager and you. Homelander looks at your profile with mild interest. You’re the only one who Vought didn’t manage to find a good quality recent photo of. Clearly you don’t do social media. Yet the quality doesn’t take away from the intrigue your profile inspired. You’re easily the most interesting in the list but that’s not that hard to do. Still, Homelander puts yours at the end of the list. Saving the best for last.

“Hellooo and congratulations! This is Homelander and you’re one of the few lucky cookies who get to have a little chit chat with me.” All air gets sucked out of your lungs and the ease with which you picked up the phone is gone. Your eyes widen, breath caught in your throat only coming out in confused little stutters. This isn’t real. It can’t be!

Whether it’s a particularly vivid dream or your world is actually turning upside down you’re glad this happened at home. Your knees buckle, your ass landing straight on your bed, your legs trembling with nervous energy as you sit down.

“W-what?” You manage to blurt out, more breathy than not. Your heart is pounding like never before. You wouldn’t be surprised if he can hear it over the phone, it feels loud to your ears.

“The competition? You entered, right?” His voice. His fucking voice was right in your ear and you felt like melting into a puddle of goo. Anything to spare you the embarrassing words that are surely about to come out of your mouth one way or another.

“Oh… um…” You are blowing it. There’s no other word for it. Totally embarrassing yourself. Not able to say a word, still trying to calm your heart down.

“Are you not a fan? Have I got the wrong number–?”

“N-no no! No…I mean yes. I mean sorry…fuck.” You are totally losing it. The hand holding your phone is shaking with nervous energy. 

“Hey hey hey…. Come on now. Take it easy. Now take a deep breath aaand relax.” His voice is rich and sweet like honey, just like you’ve heard on TV but here it feels intimate. Just for you. He’s not talking to anybody else. As he hears your stuttered intake of breath and a mildly calmed exhale he coos again. “That’s it. Breathe with me. Now in.” If only he knew that this is making things so much worse for you. “And out.” 

“I’m so sorry. I meant to say, I am a fan but I don’t do this.” Your voice still trembles with each word but you’re a little more composed. 

“What? Call people?” You can hear the smirk in his voice, he's clearly pleased with his little joke. 

“No.” You can’t help yourself but chuckle, your lips spreading in a wide grin. Your heart is still pounding but it’s more excitement than embarrassment. You’re actually talking to Homelander. And you have already embarrassed yourself beyond belief but he’s still here! He’s still talking to you. He doesn’t even sound upset. “I mean I don’t meet you guys. Heroes. I don’t really know how to do this. I mean I pretty much live on your doorstep and I’ve never met either one of you.” Now that he calmed you down, getting you talking, you can’t stop talking. 

“Really? Some fan you are.” Were you of a sound mind you’d hear the joke but now all you could think is that you’ve upset him. And you can’t have him think that. Sure you’ve always wanted to stand out but not in a negative way! You take it to heart and you apologize.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to offend. At all! Really! It’s just, you don’t need another person begging for an autograph that they can brag with to their friends or sell online for a quick buck.” 

He exhales a little breathy laugh that has your whole body flush hot. “Oh, aren’t you adorable.” The panic that was inflating in you like a hot air balloon finally fizzled out. Instead it’s replaced by a throbbing heat in between your legs and you place your free hand over your heart, almost trying to will your body into behaving normally. “You know if you want I can send you some, would be a shame for such a sweet fan to not have anything personalised. I’ll sign it with your name.” He offers, a nice gesture, really, but you are currently having a whole body meltdown to even appreciate it for what it was.

“O-oh,that isn’t—You don’t have to—” 

He continues nonetheless. 

“Y/N, is it? Beautiful name.” Your name rolls off his tongue perfectly, all soothing and sweet. And there you go, melting into a puddle just for him. 

“You don’t have to be nervous. I don’t bite. At least, not over the phone.” You let your hand trail down your body. He’s just talking. He’s just making jokes. He’s just trying to strike up a conversation to make such a freaked out fan of his a little calmer and there you are getting your rocks off on this. 

“Sorry. It’s hard not to be. I’ve been a fan of yours for a long while. I didn’t expect I’d ever get to talk to you. It’s kind of you to do things like this for us fans. I’m sure you’re busy. Thank you for taking the time.” You distract yourself from the throbbing that’s just calling for your hand to settle heavily in between your shaking thighs. 

“Oh no problem. Wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for all my loyal fans, right?” You should really stop moving your hand down your body. But you can’t help the effect he has on you, you’re not acting normal! 

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s the fame that makes you special. It’s you.” You breathe you all dreamy before realising this isn’t just one of your fantasies. No. You really are talking to Homelander. You cough a little, pretending like you had something stuck in your throat. 

“It is?”

“I think so. Change into civilian clothing and I’m sure you’ll still be turning heads.” You speak normally now but you bite your lip at the end, your hand now just above your pubic bone. 

“Sounds like you’ve thought about this plenty.” Oh, of course you have. Your body is screaming at you to take the plunge, to slip your hand down your panties, and make yourself feel like this is more than just a friendly fan call. But your mind is, correctly, telling you that this is beyond inappropriate. 

“Ah no! I just mean that you’re perfect at what you do. There’s nobody like you. Noone could take your spot. So it’s more than just fans.” You’re surprised you’re still carrying on. You feel like your brain is turning into mush with each word he’s saying. 

“What can I say? I take my job very seriously.” He goes on to talk about being a leader of the Seven, you guess he’s just trying to fill space seeing as you’re such a blubbering mess. Even with all his efforts at making this normal, your brain turns all the innocent words into the filthiest dirty talk.

“Look, I’d love to talk to you some more but I’m afraid I’ll have to end it there. I’m late for a talk show interview.” You retract your hand as if it got burnt and instead you grab onto the comforter you’re sitting on, stopping yourself from doing anything impulsive. 

“O-of course.” Your heart rate is elevated again, something about the thought of him leaving and you never getting the chance to speak to him again makes you want to scream. 

“Tell you what, I don’t want to be unfair to you. You hardly got your prize. I’ll call you later. You free in the evening?” 

“Y-yes.”

“Perfect.” 

Perfect. You’re fucking perfect. Homelander can’t stop the way his lips stretch into a predatory grin. You are exactly what a fan should be like. Swooning over him. Grateful that he’s even bothering to grace you with his presence. You were practically kneeling, bent over before him on the floor, kissing his feet as he gave you a taste of his divine presence. He has half a mind to take care of the uncomfortable hard-on pressing into his rigid suit. He couldn’t help himself when you were being such a sweet little thing. He feels no remorse at having rubbed himself through his suit as you were there on the other side of the phone, undeniably shaking in excitement, all flustered and tense and most certainly aroused. But no, he wants to wait his turn. He needs the real thing. He’s not planning on letting you go that easy.

Originally he was pissed that most of his time on the phone was taken up by the elderly woman who was talking his ear off. Now he’s thinking about sending her a gift basket. He has a real excuse to see you. 

When Homelander wants something he’s like a hunter, doing everything he can to lure his prey into his trap. In this case he abuses his powers to get the Crime Analytics team to dig up your address and in the meanwhile he sits through a mind-numbingly boring interview at a low-tier talk show he really shouldn’t need to waste his time on. 

The only thing that keeps him going is the thought that you might be watching. You seem like a big fan. You surely wouldn’t dare miss out on his live appearances. The thought alone gives him enough drive to not laser through the talk show host everytime she asks a stupid question and instead he imagines he’s speaking straight to you.

When the show is over he takes off before his team can steer him towards another boring chore. No, he has more pressing matters to attend to. Like any good predator he observes. He waits until it’s the right time to strike. That’s why he’s perched at the top of the building that’s opposite yours. He’s got a clear line of sight to your apartment but he’s careful in making sure you can’t see him. 

He watches, his grin reappearing every damn time he sees you reach your phone, checking if your ringer is on for the tenth time. You are an easy target, he can swoop in anytime and sweep you off your feet but he wants it to be perfect. With sick fascination he keeps watching you, your behaviours and patterns as you pace around your room trying to preoccupy your mind with mindless thoughts. He knows that nothing you do can now fill the void that he left behind. What else can replace the purr of his voice in your ear, soothing and exciting you at the same time. Nothing. There’s nobody like him. You said it yourself.

An hour of self-indulgent watching later he decides to end your misery. You just look so upset and disappointed and he knows you’ll just melt in his presence. He needs to be close to you. He got a little sprinkle of what you're like over the phone and now he’s got a craving for the real thing. He needs to feel you, smell you, hear your poor heart trying to keep up with the excitement right in his ear.

So with a quick drop he descends.

The day has gone by torturously slow for you. You spend every minute checking your phone in case your ringer randomly fails you and you won’t catch the second call from Homelander. Just thinking that makes your thighs quiver. The thought of having him purr into your ear any longer wets your panties all over again. But over the coming hours your enthusiasm deflates. It’s getting late and your chances of ever getting a call back are low. 

You emerge from the bathroom, fresh and clean, in your pyjamas ready to sleep today’s rollercoaster of emotions away. Or you would be if it wasn’t for a knock at your balcony door interrupting your thoughts and making you flinch in surprise. The flash of red and blue still so vibrant and colourful against the midnight sky has your breath catching in your throat. What the fuck?!

You open the balcony door in shock, and if you had the strength to do so you would have ripped it off its hinges with pure eagerness. There he is in all his patriotic glory. Homelander. A wide grin on his face, posture ramrod straight as he clasps his gloved hands behind his back, puffing his chest out.

“H-Homelander?!” Your voice quivers at the proximity, your heart picks up speed again and you feel your entire body flush both in embarrassment and excitement. Your first thought goes to how you currently look rather than questioning his motives or how he even found where you live in the first place. 

Trying to regain your composure you shake your head, blinking as if he was just a figment of your imagination. Maybe your devout obsession with him is finally damaging your mental state, making you hallucinate.

“Good evening, Y/N.” God, how does he do that! The way your name slips off his tongue so easily, with such familiarity makes you clench and part your lips with a gasp. Any sort of composure you’ve regained crumbling to dust. Now you are just awkwardly gawking, in awe at the unreal figure in front of you, in the flesh. Homelander doesn’t wait to be invited in, strutting into your modest apartment like it belongs to him, the confident strides of his red boots loud and heavy against the creaky floor of your apartment. He takes up the living space confidently, somehow making you feel like you don't belong in your own space. His presence took priority, anything else secondary—you included. 

“How did you—” Your question of how he found where you live doesn’t even get fully asked, let alone answered. He cuts in, not actually caring about your justified worry over having your address handed out willy-nilly. 

“Our call was a bit too short to my liking. You don’t mind a little late-night visit, do you?” You feel disarmed. His voice turns gravelly, lowering with each word. His tone teasing as if he was telling you a secret, so unlike his television persona where he’s all American apple pie values and open arms with clear intentions. Here, he grinned widely—all teeth with his sharp canines bared to you like the predator he is. Like you’re his next meal. “Ohohoo, would you look at this. Maybe you are my biggest fan, huh?” 

You are distracted by his voice, his presence, just him that you fail to notice his eyes wandering around your apartment. Your face flushes red in embarrassment as you see him assessing your safe space, or what felt like your safe space before this ambush, all with an amused grin on his face. 

“These are all limited edition. Must have cost you a small fortune.” Holding a breath you watch him take his gloves off one by one, placing the leather on your table with a soft thwack. It feels forbidden, not meant for your eyes. The public doesn’t get to see Homelander as anything other than perfect. His image manicured, perfected to the tiniest details. Seeing his surprisingly elegant bare hands, this up close feels intimate yet threatening like he’s unsheathed his sword, revealing one of the many hidden weapons he can use against you. 

You watch as he brushes his fingers against limited edition action figurines, box sets, posters and trinkets featuring his likeness or the logo emblem Vought associates with him. If it was anyone else you’d tell them to keep their paws away from your most prized possessions but it's Homelander. Who else gets the right to touch special limited edition merchandise of his own likeness? 

You watch as he paces the room with an unreadable expression. The embarrassment you feel transforms into an apology, heavy on your tongue as you force your mouth open, letting your shame out into the world. It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed in his presence.

“I-I’m sorry.” 

“You’re sorry?” He turns his head over his shoulder with a curious expression. A swoop of his blonde hair handsomely falling into his face. He puts down one of the figurines he picked up earlier as he scouted the area. 

“All this stuff.” You wave your hand around, the grand display of what can only be described as the Church of Homelander, a shrine dedicated to his divine existence. You see how it looks, how it makes you look like a rabid fan. Though you’re anything but. “I know it’s a little strange. I don’t want to make you feel like a museum piece. Or-or-or a circus animal! I just admire you. A lot.”

“You do?” 

“I do.” Your breath catches in your throat as he turns around fully, facing you head on, one slow step inching towards you at a time. You gulp, feeling like you’re left in the dark regarding his intentions as you hopelessly struggle to read him. On the opposite spectrum you’re there, an open book, your heart on your sleeve, your every thought written so clearly on your face you may as well give him your diary to flip through. “More than anything.” Breathlessly you add, meeting his eyes as a challenge. You’re devout, as loyal as it gets. You’d do anything for him if he asked.

Homelander rises to your mental challenge with a grin so sharp you feel the metaphorical bite coming before he even opens his mouth as he steps closer. He’s so close now. Any ordinary man could feel the thud of your heartbeat, but to his keen senses it’s a war drum and he’s marching to a battle he’s already won. His bare, elegant hands make their way to your jaw caressing it with a surprising gentleness. You flinch. Even though you watched it happen with wide eyes, you didn’t expect his hands to leave you unmarred. You almost expect your skin to sizzle, unworthy of his divine touch.  

Homelander’s grin disappears, his tongue gliding along his teeth as if he’s cleaning them before he devours his next meal. All that leaves you is a little whimper before he pulls you in, his hands thrumming with incomprehensible strength as he kisses you. He kisses the air out of your lungs as if you could survive without it like he can. As if you could meet him in the middle. But dammit you do your best to. He’s a passionate kisser, incapable of sticking to soft kisses. No, he devours. He licks your lips open, his tongue gliding along yours. You brace your hands against his chest, already feeling weak in the knees. The heat of his breath and the wetness of his tongue in your mouth is nothing compared to how hot and wet you feel in your panties.

It doesn’t help that he’s vocal. You kiss him harder anytime he growls or moans into your lips, his voice vibrating against your lips just possessing you more. And soon it turns into a game of who can dish it out harder. Each devoted kiss makes him hum and purr which in turn melts you into a pile of goo, making you kiss him harder. Your lips feel hot, swollen from the ferocious kissing. You’re nearing the limit of what your lungs can manage without resurfacing for air.

Homelander pulls away but he doesn’t give you any time to recover. As if you could. How do you recover from that? Instead he’s adamant about making your heartbeat hit record heights. His hands glide down your body, featherlight touches that make your skin break out into goosebumps as he settles on your hips, trailing the waistband of your pants. His pink wet lips spread into another predatory smile and before you know it he leans closer to your ear, practically purring, “Tell me, if I take these off will I find you wearing Homelander panties too?” 

Flustered squeak escapes you as he laughs wholeheartedly at your embarrassment. You know he knows. He’s teasing you for a reason. “They’re comfortable.” You eventually grumble, pouting like a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I bet they are.” He sinks down to one knee, his hands taking the waistband of your pants with him as he pulls them down over your thighs, letting the fabric pool by your ankles. He pats your ankle, prompting you to step out of them. You comply, kicking the fabric away earning a little word of praise from him. “Attagirl.” You’re visibly trembling as he kneels in front of you, his eyes locked on the sight of your blue panties with his emblem and name right across the middle in gold, all accentuated by a red trim. It would be far from sexy in any other circumstance but he purrs at the sight. All pleased like the cat that got the cream. “Got my name across your pussy all day long?” 

Before you could react like any other person would, he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. You yelp, losing your balance trying to grab onto his head or shoulders for support but he puts his arm on your back, sliding it right under your top keeping you straight and secure whether you want it or not. You’re not leaving until he says so. “Might as well fucking taste it seeing as it’s already mine, don’t you think?” He gives you a hungry look licking his lips before hoisting your other leg over his shoulder, standing up with ease. He walks you back against a wall as he eagerly inhales the scent of you, his head perfectly in between your warm thighs. 

“Woah!” You stabilise yourself, finally having more surface to lean against. The fabric of your top glides along the surface of the glossy posters he has you pressed against. Making you the centerpiece, surrounding you with his likeness. You finally process what the fuck is happening as you feel his nose pressing into the soaked fabric of your panties. “Homelander! Y-you….ohh…” You whimper, your hands automatically finding comfort and safety in between his golden locks. 

“Fuck you smell good.” Homelander growls, his hands now on your ass, holding you in place as he sticks his tongue out, pressing it wetly over your soaked panties. The taste of you already coating all his taste buds.

“O-oh fffuuck. OH god…yes…yes please.” You don’t stop yourself from moaning freely, the time for embarrassment long gone as Homelander lifts one hand from your ass, impatiently pulling the fabric of your Homelander panties to the side, his tongue already slipping in for a taste before his hand even makes it back to squeeze your ass. “Taste just as fucking good.” His voice strained, uttering filth in between your thighs.

His thick tongue pushes through the slit of your weeping pussy, lapping up what you’ve so graciously prepared just for him. And as you watch a mop of blonde hair greedily slurp at your wetness like he’s parched, you think back to the fantasies that drove you to orgasm after orgasm as the imaginary Homelander ate your pussy. 

Well, for one the real thing is a lot more enthusiastic than you ever imagined him to be. He is sucking on your clit in rhythm that has you throb harder, making your toes curl. “Ohhh, Homelander!” You reward him with a loud moan of his name, like a prayer on your lips. And you repeat it with each masterful lick around your clit that has you squirming in his hold, legs quivering around his head, fingers tugging at his hair.

The second thing you never considered was how much his powers would come into play. Here he is with a deathly strong iron grip around your ass, easily holding you up on his shoulders against the wall while pushing you as close into his face as he can. The thought of not being able to escape his grip exhilarates you as much as it terrifies you. His lack of need for air makes him a perfect devout lover. Because this is pure devotion except it seems he forgot who was meant to worship who.

You’d be embarrassed by the obscene sounds you two are making if it didn’t feel so good. You moan for him prettily as he licks up all the wetness he’s coaxing out of you. You breath hitches as you feel your orgasm building. He's consistent, giving you just the right pressure. Homelander looks up at you, eyes glassy and blown back with lust before he swiftly repositions you, needing just one arm to make you feel weightless yet secure in his hold as he takes his free hand plunging two fingers into you revelling in the feeling of your cunt clenching around him.

“Oh there there there! Ahhh!” You guide him, his fingers pumping into you and with his tongue still working magic on your clit you whimper out, “oh fuck, I’m gonna, I’m gonna–.” You fall apart in his arms, cumming on Homelander’s tongue like you’ve imagined many times over. With you thrashing around you rip the poster right behind you unaware of the mess you’re leaving behind. He licks you through the waves crashing through you. He’s smug, you can feel the smirk against your pussy as he gives it one more kiss before easily slipping you off his shoulders, preening with satisfaction. “Mhmm you did so good.” His voice purred and even in your post-orgasm haze you flush with fresh heat at the praise.

He gives you time to compose yourself but you don’t want it. You want him. You need him. Your legs feel like jelly so you immediately sink to your knees, nuzzling your face into his crotch. Too eager to wait. Homelander cooed at your enthusiasm, “Look at that. Didn’t even have to tell you.” He chuckles, voice thick with lust, his lips and chin still glistening from the way he feasted on you.

Wobbly and out of your mind, you reach for his belt, unable to figure out how to unclasp it, your dexterity not quite there either to be able to wiggle the hem of his pants underneath it and pull them down.

You look up at him with the face of a kitten that’s not getting what it wants. Pouting and pleading for help. 

“Christ, let me help you with that.” Homelander unclasps his belt, letting it hit the floor with a loud and heavy clang and the thought of it denting the cheap flooring doesn’t even graze your mind. He unzips his pants and the hiss alone makes your mouth water. He pushes his pants a little lower and you stare wide eyed at where his thematically red briefs are tented, his cock throbbing and leaking pre-cum into the thin fabric.

Okay, this you can do. Your hands slide up his thighs, getting a little feel of the bare skin of his thighs. Unmarred, smooth and hot. Your hand briefly squeezes around his cock through his briefs, forcing Homelander to hiss through his teeth. You pull down his briefs, bunching them down with the thick fabric of his suit. 

You try not to stare and drool but you’ve imagined his cock in your dreams and fantasies so many times that seeing it in real life just kind of blows your fucking mind. It’s perfect. A bit longer than average but especially nice and thick. You lick your lips in anticipation. His hand rests on the back of your head, giving your hair a tug.

“You gonna keep staring or will you put those pretty lips to work?” His gruff tone tears you from the haze. 

You blush, being caught staring. Wanting to please your hero you apologize, “sorry, it’s just so perfect. You’re perfect.” You breathe out in pure adoration. 

“Come on then, be a good girl and open up for your hero. I want my cock wet before I slide it into that needy pussy.” He looks down at you with a sharp smile, his other hand rests on your jaw before moving up squeezing the hollow of your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. Not that he has to, you’re more than willing to deliver. You open wider, making his hand withdraw as you take matter into your own hands. Literally. You grip the base of his cock, feeling how hefty and hot it feels. It hits you in that moment that you’re holding Homelander’s cock. Fuck. You’re gonna be dreaming of this moment for years to come.

You look up, giving him one more doe-eyed look before you stick your tongue out easing the swollen red head in between your lips. The salty, musky taste of his pre-cum on your tongue makes you whimper, your eyebrows furrow with concentration as you focus on banking the memory of his taste in your head. Eagerly you get right into it. Down and dirty. You focus on him, coating him with an ungodly amount of saliva until anytime you pop off him you’re followed by strings of it connecting you two. His grunts and heavy breaths just urge you to do better. So you take him deeper, slurping around the saliva you've made for him, bobbing your head up and down.

You nearly lose your rhythm when he lets out such a needy wanton moan, making your pussy throb.

“Thaaat’s it, come on—fuck!—deeper, yeah yeaahh you got it sweetheart. God fuck that’s fucking it.” He’s nearly whimpering, so lost in the sensation. And you're eating it up. Each whimper and word goes straight to your pussy and at this point you wouldn't be surprised if you were making a puddle on the floor.

His hand forces your head down deeper and you gag, choking around him as for a second your nose bumps the neat thatch of hair above his cock. He's not easily dissuaded and he pushes again, a little softer this time. You almost feel the tremble of his hands, he's so close to unravelling. Just for you. The swell of pride pushes you forward and you take him deeper. He takes the chance to push both hands into your hair as he starts fucking your face.

“Take it. Take it.” He grunts, his voice more and more broken with every thrust. You're just about to push his thighs back, attempting to fight against his unyielding force but his hips stutter and he groans, letting out broken moans as he spills on your tongue.

As if on command you swallow and he pulls out, wiping the residual dribbles of cum on your lips. Now that he’s done you realise just how fucking badly your jaw aches. You whimper at the ache of your jaw and the ache between your legs. 

You’re still kneeling on the floor, a picture of pure devotion, with your mouth messy and lips swollen. He grumbles at the picture in front of him. He pulls you up by your hair, kissing the taste of himself out of your lips. You can still taste your pussy on his lips and tongue as he shoves it into your mouth. “Bed?” He's somehow more than ready to continue and mentally you add his extraordinary refractory period to the list of his many talents. 

You nod a broken, “y-yeah, this way,” the taste of him still heavy on your tongue as you lead him to your bedroom.

He lets out a little chuckle at the state of your bedroom, just as decorated with his brand as was the rest of your apartment. “Fuck me, you really are my biggest fan.” 

You’re about to apologize, again, and he can read you like an open book already shushing you. “Shh, don’t say it. C’mere, take this off instead. Want to see you.” He tugs at your top, wanting you to take it off. Like unwrapping a present. You let out a few breathless ‘okay’s and pull the top over your head baring your entire body to him, save for the panties that were still uncomfortably pushed to the side. He clearly wants you to keep them on and you’re not sure whether that’s his narcissism or possessiveness talking. You don’t dare comment on the fact that he’s still fully dressed. You’re not gonna start demanding things from the Homelander now are you? 

With a step closer he purrs, pushing you to the bed intensely watching as your tits bounce when your back hits the comforter. He follows as he lays over the top of you but he doesn't look at you. He picks up the grimacing Homelander plushie he sees on your pillow— the one that's predominantly advertised to kids. He holds it up for you to see with a raised eyebrow, the look almost condescending. “What? They make no other official plushies!” You defend yourself. 

“Is there anything you don't have?” 

You don't know what possessed you to answer, “yeah, you,” but Homelander eats it right up as he grins at you.

“Cheeky slut. Well you're about to. On your side.” He says sliding off you to rest on his side looking you up and down hungrily. You’re clearly surprised at his choice of position and he grumbles with annoyance as you take forever to move the way he wants you to. His impatience gets the best of him and he effortlessly manipulates you to your side, slotting right behind you. Homelander grips your inner thigh lifting your leg a little higher, as he nestles his cock right against your wet cunt.

You sigh with partial relief, feeling him solid against you feels good. Feeling him inside you would feel even better. “Jesus, you're still so fucking wet.” 

“It's all your fault.” You whimper trying to wiggle in his unyielding hold. He just tuts at you gripping you tighter, cusping on pain.

He pulls you close, his cock sliding in between your slit, immediately getting the top of his cock wet. His lips trail up your jaw until he reaches your ear. He growls, low and sexy, nipping at the sensitive skin of your ear. Your heart skips a beat, your pussy throbs as the sound of him just ripples through you. 

“Maybe it is. You know, I've been thinking. You're such a nervous little thing.” He grinds his hips into you, dragging his cock back and forth, teasing you. His voice got quiet, dropping a register lower. All slow and drawled out he continues rumbling in your ear clearly aware of what it's doing to you. “You were beside yourself when I called you. So there I am thinking nobody gets that nervous, not unless they’re trying to hide how fucking turned on they are.” He keeps fucking talking and talking, making you shiver to the point where you feel goosebumps rise all over you. Your breath ragged, your eyes fluttering shut.

You're starting to understand why he was particular about this position. After all, he could read you like a book from the get go.

“At first I thought it was just me because you're such a big fan.” He coos in a condescending tone. He licks the outer edge of your ear and you shriek, thrashing in his uncompromising hold. “But no no nooo. It's not that. Because everytime I spoke, your heartbeat sped up. You know, I was worried about you there for a minute. Then there was your pussy. You get so wet the air is thick with it. I can't even fucking breathe without tasting your sweet cunt.” You let out a broken sound, close to a sob, you pussy throbbing so hard he must feel it even without being inside you. You didn't even consider that his senses can easily sniff your secret out.

He’s still rubbing his cock in between your folds, sliding the whole length of it up and down. It’s slick and loud and so good and holy shit your clit is burning from the way his head catches on it with every thrust. You're so close and your body is on fire. You so desperately want to cum with something inside you but he’s cruel. He's not gonna give it to you just yet. “And look at that, you're still getting wetter. They do say it's always the unassuming ones.” He chuckles into your ear, low and vibrating against you.

“Is that it? Do you get off to the sound of my voice? Do you watch videos of me, listening to interviews while you finger your little pussy?” He's going harder, the wet sound of your pussy slicking his way in between your slit is deafening, embarrassingly loud. “Tell me.” The little command growls in your ear and you force your lips open.

“Y-yes! Yes….I-I find your voice sexy.” You admit to your little shameful secret. You admit that one of the reasons you never met him was because you didn't want to get sopping wet in a crowd full of screaming fans. “Don't stop, please.” You moan out, quiet and broken, your embarrassment making way to pure pleasure. Now that it's out in the open, what is there to hide?

“Do you even care what I say? Huh? I could be reading out the fucking phone book and your pussy would still get wet. Greedy little thing. What’s it gonna be? You gonna cum to my voice or are you gonna be difficult?” You're burning hot, your body so so tense, the leg he's hitched up a little trembling against his strong grip. His cock is still hitting your clit in the perfect fucking way and you're so so so close. 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop! Oh fuck, Homelander—don’t—ahhh!” The dam bursts, a wave of pleasure sweeping over you as you scream. Homelander pulls back and with one deft stroke he slides his cock inside you. He doesn't move. He growls at the feeling of your cunt just pulsing against him. He's so thick inside you, stretching you wide, filling every crevice. 

He whimpers and you feel how tense he is holding off the orgasm threatening to burst inside him.

Just as you think this must be the end of it, your mind just a buzzing noise, he pulls out moving back and he pushes you on your back. 

You never expected him to be so active in bed but he's already in between your legs, his hands clamping down on the clammy flesh of the back of your thighs and he spreads you open. He's on his knees, his hands slide and curl from the back of your thighs to the top as he pulls you in, slowly sliding his cock into you in one push. 

He doesn't wait for anything. He just fucks you. Hard and fast, really getting himself off more than you. Surrounded by posters and merch all carrying his likeness while he plunges into you again and again. Your hair is plastered to your forehead as you watch your hero utterly ruin you. You're sweaty, absolutely spent and tired while he's pushing into you without breaking a sweat. 

This round isn't for you yet it's gonna be a memory you'll frequent the most. The look on his face, pure lust and torture as he's fucking you with as much strength as he allows himself. 

With how he's got your hips propped up he's managing to hit all your best spots as your overstimulated nerves light up, giving him one last finish, your pussy’s quivers pushing him over the edge as well. 

Then there's a little hot spurt of him inside you but you're surprised when he pulls out shooting most of his load with a few strokes of his fist all over your panties and stomach. 

“Ahh fuck. Look at that, finally got your first autograph.” He snorts, amused, admiring the sight in front of him. His cum has already soaked into your panties, the ‘Homelander’ text changing into a darker colour as both his cum and your slick from the previous round drench the fabric. 

You flush hot red and you shake your head, amused by his antics. “That's disgusting.” But strangely, you're charmed. 

“I should take a picture. You look great like this.” 

He notes as he slides off your bed pulling his briefs over his finally softening cock, tucking himself back into his suit.

“Stay?” You say softly, offering him the space for his benefit more than yours. Even though you'd like him to stay for a cuddle you know you'll be out of it in a minute.

“Can't do I'm afraid, duty calls.” 

You nod, understanding. “Thank you, I really feel like a winner.” You snorted, thinking back to how the day even started.

He looks at you almost fondly, but your orgasm-hazy brain might just not be working anymore. 

“Until next time.” He says as a goodbye and you end up tucking yourself into bed. The last thing you hear is the click of his belt he picked up from the living room, the creak of the leather gloves he slides back on and the sonic boom of him flying away.

And you know that when you wake up if it wasn't for your ruined panties, your throbbing cunt or even the ripped poster in the living room you wouldn't believe any of it was real.

You sure hope there will be a next time.

[Part 2]

Taglist (you can add yourself to be notified anytime I publish a new Homelander story)

[jinxs-gf]

Black Cat!Reader x The Team Headcanons

Black Cat!Reader x The Team

note: just because you’re in place of Black Cat doesn’t mean this is fem!reader! this is very gender neutral besides the mention of lipstick briefly…even then that’s not lady exclusive :)

content/warnings: this is seemingly set during s1 like my other yj fics but I imagine everyone being way older 😔🙏🏽 it’s weird but just roll with it pretty please. also…a bit suggestive??

word count: 3.6k

a/n: I wouldn’t have done this but this anon gave me the idea and I HAD to expand on it unfortunately

THE TEAM (platonic)

Lots and lots of flirting from reader, OBVIOUSLY. do y’all even KNOW Black Cat????? it would be relentless. and no matter how annoying and probably overwhelming it got, you wouldn’t back down

with even the toughest/hardest to crack team members

it’s not even like you’re attempting to lure them in…or get romantically involved (unless…), it’s just how you are. who can blame you! flirting is fun

you started off as just another “villain of the day.” Someone they could take on easily. They thought of you as a pity mission. An bad guy as small as a simple thief? What fun was that?! They’ve taken down Gods, magicians, robots…and Red Tornado assigned them a thief??? It was a joke.

until it wasn’t. until Batman saw potential in you (because of course he did. Robin was not happy about this.)

You earned the nickname Cat, which was a nickname in itself for Kitty Cat (Wally's idea, not yours, you gave him hell for it)

your first mission with them was definitely something. messy, to say the least

it was weird, the whole mind link thing. you made jokez and flirted through the link as a way of coping because…well you felt out of place

everyone was so close with each other, not to mention they didn’t come from a background of “bad guy shenanigans”

you felt like an outcast for the longest time, until everyone was revealing vulnerable secrets with each other before a mission. you finally spoke your insecurities with your place on the team

you and Artemis had the same worries (more or less) and bonded over that

you finally were able to let loose and just…be yourself around them

you became soft

the flirting and teasing was still there, however it was saved for missions

you preferred to keep Black Cat’s reputation

individual relationships

ROBIN (romantic)

He was very much against the idea of you being on the team. Sure you weren’t a crazy villain that hurt people (maybe not physically…but you were definitely a heartbreaker, Robin concludes)

You were still a thief at the end of the day. A bad person. And he didn’t like that.

It was Batman’s idea—and usually Batman had great ideas. This was a very bad one. He hated every bit of it.

…until he got to know you better

Taking you down was easy. “Easiest job I’ve ever had,” Robin boasts.

You pout, “that’s not very nice.”

Ha. He knocked you down a peg. Good. You needed a little humbling-

“-How come you’re lying to me, Robin? I thought we had something.”

Uh oh. He absolutely hated when you used that sickeningly sweet voice on him.

Of course you didn’t believe his lie. Of course you could tell how difficult that mission really was.

It’s not apart of his proudest moments. He hesitated to stop you on the mission, completely caught off guard by your flirtatious behavior. I mean, who wouldn’t be?!

In a moment of weakness, he let you go. Awestruck by the kiss you left imprinted on his cheek. Something he got teased relentlessly for.

The rest of the team finished the job for him after that.

In the back of his mind he knows the only reason he didn’t like the idea of you being on the team was because he…knew it wouldn’t end well for him. He was sure to be on your long list of broken hearts (a list that was never confirmed to even exist)

It made sense in his mind…he was Robin. A bird. And you were a cat. A right recipe for disaster. You’d trap him in your greedy little claws and eat him alive.

Over time that perspective changed.

Robin hates to admit it, but he’s softer now. Softer around you. For you.

“I know who you are,” he says with that arrogant smirk.

“So why can’t I know who you are?”

“Only…really important and trustworthy people know. The only person who knows besides Batman is Wally. He’s my best friend.”

“Why doesn’t that include me?” you’re practically purring, rubbing a finger down his face, “am I not important enough to you?” You pout for show

He looks dejected, like he was having an internal battle with himself. And you could tell which part of him was losing.

Your fingers inch slowly towards his mask, ready to lift-

“Robin.” And the stupid, stupid monotone voice that belonged to Batman interrupted you.

You’ll get him back for that.

Robin was now being scolded, but he was having none of it.

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“It will not happen again. No more moments of weakness. You’re growing, your body is going through a lot of different things. Keep it in your pants-”

“Whoa old man! Whoa! That’s going too far. And what about Selina?! You’ve had many moments of weakness because of her. You can’t scold me for this one time.”

“It’s because of my experience with Catwoman that I know better. I’m trying to stop you from…getting hurt.”

Robin calls bullshit on that. What could you possibly do to hurt him? (Thoughts that completely contradict his first impressions of you)

The next time he sees you he’ll spill everything. He’ll let you know that he does trust you and that you do matter. That you’re important to him.

Just to spite Bruce. And maybe because he really likes you and wants you to know it.

It was his idea to bring you onto the team anyways…he’s just giving Bruce exactly what he wanted. A warm welcome to a new teammate.

WALLY (romantic)

Wally was so happy someone FINALLY reciprocated his advances. And especially with a catch like you? Black Cat?! He was over the moon.

At first.

It quickly came to be too much. He's been waiting, praying for someone to match his energy, but now that he's got it? He's not exactly sure how to handle it. He's gotten so used to being blown off, teased, and scolded for his flirting that it was weird when you flirted back.

He was of course the first to tease you when you officially joined the team. He gave your your nickname, Kitty Cat. You despised the name and him for the longest time.

Wally was annoying. Taunting you at all times. Calling to you as if you were an actual cat.

He'd click his tongue, "here kitty kitty."

And for that, your flirting was meaner towards him (compared to how you treated everyone else). Which is the exact reason why he couldn't handle the teasing from you. It wasn't the normal way Robin would, "oh yeah, Wally can't phase the way Flash does. Otherwise he gets a nosebleed. Right, loser?" Or the way Artemis would, "ugh, you flirt like a divorced 40 year old who's desperate for a rebound. Loser."

No, your teasing was quite different. You laughed cruelly, throwing your head back for show, "Come get it before it's gone, loser."

So. He was still a loser to you, but it seemed you actually liked that about him. Maybe.

Wally didn't like it as much as he thought he would. It ruined his cool guy facade (one that didn't exist, Robin would say). It was humbling, the way he suddenly tumbled over his words, face flushed red and all.

More than humbling. It was embarrassing.

You bring him down to the mat with a loud THUD. Much like the time Black Canary beat him during their first time training. Except you used your weight, tumbling on him (and straddling him in the process. Great).

Embarrassing embarrassing embarrassing.

The only person that was able to truly catch him was his best friend, Robin. And that's with years of experience with the speedster. You'd know him all of a few months and you're able to do it?!

"It won't happen again,” referring to his teasing of your name, naming you Kitty Cat and clicking his tongue at you.

“Or I’ll have to teach you a lesson. Much different from this one.” And you casually walk away.

Wally desperately wanted to get up, to humble you back. But he couldn't. He felt physically incapable of doing so.

You had really done it. You slowed down the (second) fastest man alive.

Wow.

"Wow. That was extremely painful to watch," of course Robin had something to say about it.

"Shut up man."

KALDUR (romantic)

It was "unprofessional," he said.

Unprofessional your ass. It was perfectly professional. A lot of people on the teams had partners within those same teams. Black Canary and Green Arrow, Superman and Wonder Woman (exes—but that still counts for something), Conner and M’gann acted like a couple and no one said anything! So what was the problem?

Well apparently there wasn’t a problem…seeing as this “relationship” was more welcomed—as in, Kaldur didn’t tell the Black Cat off when they made advances towards him. Besides when he called their behavior “unprofessional.” That was once. He didn’t say a word of it after that.

In fact, he allowed—dare anyone say encouraged it.

On missions you were attached to his hip. Even if he assigned you to be by Artemis’ side or assist Robin, you wouldn’t listen. And he didn’t say anything about it, instead informing the team to continue on with the plan.

His professional act as the team leader never faltered, not even you could break it down. He merely tolerated your flirting (his words, though you knew better. He loved it).

The team was each in their individual positions scoping out the area, ready to attack at a moments notice. Kaldur was squatted down and you decided it was the perfect opportunity to pounce on him (as you usually did). You wrapped your arms around his neck, now on his back.

“Does the team leader have time for some sweet talk?”

“I, we have a job to do, Cat. Focus.”

You hum, “What are we doing here again?”

He starts relaying the plan to you, you taking note of the way he doesn’t scold you (he repeated the plan to the team multiple times on the way over, he surely would’ve berated one of the other guys for not listening). You never had any intentions of listening, only wanting a chance to annoy him.

“Blah blah blah, is this your version of sweet talk?” You squish his face between your fingers and plant a kiss on his cheek.

He only sighs, “Later. After the mission is complete.”

For once, your find yourself surprised. He’s promising to reciprocate your advances?

This should be fun.

CONNER (romantic)

M'gann was more subtle with her flirting (not really, especially with the way she blushes), more timid and on the nose about her feelings. You? You got straight to the point. Kind of like how open Artemis was when she first joined the team. She had no shame letting the team know telepathically how attractive she thought Superboy was. Seriously, what was it with new recruits and taking an immediate liking to Conner? Why not the other three boys? What did he have that they didn't!

Although Artemis gave up on that crush at first sight almost immediately

You? Not so much. it was very noticeable that the Black Cat was adamant on cracking the boy of steel. it seemed like an impossible mission, but with a little determination and a couple sultry words? it was pretty damn easy

This is very much an enemies to lovers type relationship (kinda):

At the beginning, when you first met, he was open to new relationships. Getting to know people he could count on within the team, though that openness completely died down. Your flirting was nonstop. Even on missions! How was he supposed to concentrate on the task at hand when you found time to graze his arm or speak soft words to him?

You annoyed him, sosososo much it wasn't even funny. Even more than M'gann did. Both of you were insistent, that's for sure. But one was more bold than the other. He tried telling himself it was because he didn't like you: at least with M'gann he wanted a relationship to come from it (not necessarily romantic)

But with you...he hated you. No. He hated the way he reacted to your advances...he hated admitting to himself that your words affected him. That he felt something not so platonic for you. Damn you and your stupid flirting. It was surely going to be the death of him. And that's saying something: the clone of the man of steel actually breaking down? unheard of.

But you managed to do it. Unfortunately.

Conner finds himself thinking about you, more than he'd like. Another reason to dislike you. You take up his mind. Every waking moment and every dream. It's infuriating.

And now he was starting to worry about you during missions. He saw you get knocked down, away from the rest of the team. The fall looked nasty, and with the way you seem to lie there with no intention of getting back up, he's sure you've been knocked out

Conner tries to ignore the way his heart clenches at the sight, kind of like the way it does when concerning you in different context

It gives him the courage to voice his worries, he calls out to you, and as expected: he gets no response

The enemy leans down to your level, ready to do more damage. Conner is quickly snapped out of his daze and starts running over to you

Until he abruptly stops. Because you open your eyes to wink at him, jump up, and take the enemy down with ease.

It's right then that he takes back every thought of admitting he doesn't hate you. Because the stupid smirk you're sending his way reminds him of every reason why he dislikes you.

Everyone is home or in their respective rooms already, leaving you and him. You're behind him, massaging his shoulders gently (your touch wouldn't have persisted if he showed any signs of discomfort, he leaned into it in fact, allowing you to continue)

You bring your head down, cheek to his,

"Oh come on. You can lie to everyone and yourself. But you can't lie to me. I know you were worried back there. Just admit it, Loverboy."

He can only roll his eyes. And blushed. You were never going to live this down.

"I wasn't. Now leave me alone." If only his actions were as convincing as his stern words. Words that would've scared off the likes of M'gann had she been in your position. But you knew better, knew that his shaking hands and quickly warming face meant that his words had no meaning.

Your hand dragged from his shoulder to his chest, right over his heart. Yeah, his words were meaningless with the way his heart was beating for you.

Conner was finally warming up to you and you had him right where you wanted him.

And so you let go. "Whatever you say, Loverboy," and with a kiss to his pink cheek, you leave him alone to ponder his complicated feelings.

Feelings that were in fact not complicated at all. Because Conner was finally, finally ready to admit to himself and to you that he wanted you. So badly.

If only you hadn't pulled away so quickly, he couldn't reciprocated the kiss or two...it would've been an easier, showing you how he feels instead of saying it out loud.

He'll kiss you next time.

M’GANN (romantic)

The Martian can't hide her liking towards you for the life of her. She could’ve even if she tried.

It was near painful, you pitied her. You almost felt bad and stopped teasing her. Almost.

It was fun though, how could you stop?

M’gann would actively seek out your approval and attention when you joined the team. It was only natural, she did it with the rest of the members, so you were no exception.

Besides, the only teammate she was kind of close with was Artemis. Was it sooo wrong of her to want to get close to you?!

Nope! Though she does wish you weren’t so…forward sometimes. Not that it’s unwelcomed, she’s just unsure of how to act because of it. Is she supposed to reciprocate? M’gann has never seen nor experienced such a dynamic on Mars, much less on Earth. So she awkwardly blushes and smiles.

Eventually she gets used to it. And gets very much into it. She won’t vocalize her feelings, instead she’ll mind link and talk that way. Often times it’s easier to communicate through touch. Which says a lot, M’gann would rather use touch?? Not the mind link?? Which was the main source of communication on Mars? Whoa.

It was mainly because…she didn’t want to reveal all her feelings to you. She’s usually able to control what goes through the mind link, having done it since childhood, but you’ve made her mind a complete mess. She all but short circuits when you’re around.

Can anyone blame her?

"You know what I'm thinking?"

"No."

"Well you can read me, can't you Martian girl?"

She giggles at herself, how could she forget? "Hello Megan!"

Her smile turns timid once she reads your mind.

"Oh."

ARTEMIS (romantic)

It was honestly unfair how fast the blonde caught your attention. Her voice. Her stupid raspy voice.

Unfortunately for you, Artemis wasn’t exactly buddy-buddy with you at first. Well, she wasn’t really with any of her teammates. But with time she’s learned to get along with everyone.

“I just wanna get to know you, Blondie. What’s wrong with that?” You asked in the sweetest voice you could muster up, one that usually made everyone fall.

Yet she rolls her eyes.

So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Fine.

It was right after a mission, everyone was surrounding Red Tornado, relaying the events to your mentor.

“You know we could’ve took that guy down way faster had you not been on Robin the whole time.”

“Jealous Blondie?

“Stop calling me Blondie!”

You had sleepovers, movie nights, and other hang out outside of missions. With or without the rest of the team. They were fun, the first time you were alone with her is what really got her to warm up to you.

“Ugh! Of course literally everyone else canceled but Cat.” She really seemed to hate you.

You were outside her window, watching as Artemis complained to no one but herself. She once offhandedly commented on how her place was off limits for hangouts (refusing to explain why, which was okay with the team).

You were definitely crossing a boundary doing this, but she seemed upset in the group chat. You couldn’t just leave her by herself.

And then…the Sportsmaster walks in her room. One of the team’s enigmas. A thorn in their side. What the hell?

He does nothing but berate her for not “joining them.” Joining who? Then proceeds to say he’d be happier if she ever thinks to change her mind

“I’m never going to be apart of your messed up team, dad.”

Oh.

And then he’s just…gone.

You’re stunned, and only then does she finally notice you. She ushers you into her room, now berating you for your actions and spying and breaking her boundaries and…

“Your secret is safe with me, babe.” It was meant to be a term of endearment to reassure her,

Friends called each other babe, right?

“Babe?”

“You’d rather be called Blondie?”

She rolls her eyes, “whatever.” And as annoyed as she wanted to seem, she smiled and hugged you gratefully.

It was the only time you allowed yourself to be any kind of vulnerable around her. Or any of the team for that matter.

Once she got over her high horse, it was a very reluctant friendship turned…something more? That’s to be determined. But with the way she now flirts back? You’d say that was a good sign.

“Hey Blondie.”

“You calling me Blondie is the equivalent of Wally calling you Kitty Cat. Maybe I’ll have to teach you a lesson this time around.”

“I like the way you think, babe.” (You say not so platonically this time)

ROY (romantic)

You were on him as soon as he rejoined the team. How could you not be? He was even grumpier than Conner was when he joined, making him extra fun to mess with.

You had no chill when flirting with him, he decided immediately that was annoyed with you. And did not want to be friends.

Because his actual friends brought him joy, they made him laugh and they listened to him when he had bad days. You? You made a bad first impression, therefore he refused give you the chance to do any of those things.

Often telling you to buzz off and if you didn’t he’d “choke you with a hair ball.” Kinky, you replied.

He hated it.

Until you found out about his girl, his other Cat. Cheshire. That’s when things changed. You were less…on him.

"Me and her were never a thing!"

"Getting defensive there. Afraid I'll get jealous?"

"I could care less about your feelings."

“Oh really? Is that right?”

His eye twitched. He couldn’t believe he was trying to…reassure you? Was that what he was doing?

He was trying to make sure you knew he wasn’t with Cheshire. That her feelings were one sided. It’s something he shouldn’t be doing, he tells himself. In fact, he should be doing the opposite. Tell you that she means something to him, or maybe stay quiet and insinuate that they had something going on.

To get you off his back.

You seemed to back off completely when you found out Cheshire flirted with him often on missions when the goal was to take her down. Much like how the team’s predicament when they first met you.

It made you…upset?

And for some reason that made him upset.

“So you’re my Roy Toy? Mine completely?” Wally and Robin had originally griped about the nickname until it eventually made them laugh. They came to appreciate it.

“I’m no one’s. Not yours, not Cheshire’s, not the Justice League’s nor the team’s.”

“You will be mine one day, Speedy. And you’ll love it.”

Roy doesn’t respond but he feels like…there is some truth to your playful statement.

Maybe one day.

bonus:

THE TEAM

They all slowly turn towards you.

"...you've kissed all of us?"

You only shrug, “wasn’t that obvious?”

you can tell I got lazy lmaooo

I hate how I formatted this omg

[pomefioredove]

Just want to say I LOVE your writing and just spotted your event. If you’re still open could I please have 16 sugar cookies with frosting, chocolate chips, and marshmallows? (Gosh that sounds good, now I want to bake)

Hope you’re well and staying warm!

AWW THANK YOU. rounding my savanaclaw day out w this one

order #16, sugar with frosting, marshmallows, and chocolate chips

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ enjoy yourself

tropes: fake dating, only one bed, roommates AU characters: leona additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, making out, a little suggestive, brief mention of hypothetical children but no mention of how the children come to be, etc word count: 700

"Nothing is going to happen,"

That was the first, and only thing Leona had said all evening.

He hadn't greeted his family at the door of the palace. He had let you do all the talking at dinner. He hadn't said a word since he gave you a briefing on his family that afternoon, before you left school.

"And don't mess this up," was the very last thing he told you.

Until now.

You look at him. On the crisp bedsheets, every little movement makes a sound. Especially with how quiet the room is.

"I know,"

"Just making sure you didn't get any funny ideas,"

The thought of having to spend the entire summer like this, with a stiff and silent and unhappy Leona, is scary.

Maybe you should've taken your chances with Crowley...

...But, when Leona came to you with an idea- you pretend to be his partner to piss off his family, he gives you a place to stay- you couldn't have refused.

"I think it's a little unfair that Grim gets his own room," you mutter.

Leona snorts. "Unfair is an understatement. But, hey, we're "dating", remember? It woulda been weird to request separate sleeping accommodations,"

You sigh. He's right, as always.

"Besides," he continues, his eyes narrowing. "You heard what they said at dinner."

You really wish he'd stop bringing that up. The memory of that, his sister-in-law's sweet smile as she suggested you two give Cheka a cousin to play with, makes you shudder.

"It was... a joke," you say.

"You know it wasn't,"

Again, he's right. Or maybe he's just honest. You sigh.

"I don't know if I can handle this all summer,"

Leona turns on his side with a smug smile, looking down at you. "Imagine how I feel. I'm related to these people,"

"Now are you happy I warned you before we left school? You're lucky you're so damn pitiful, or I wouldn't have said a thing and had a show with dinner, too."

You stick out your tongue at him, but you are grateful.

When he said they could be overbearing, you thought that was just Leona being Leona.

"They weren't supposed to like me,"

He sighs. "Tell me about it. I even fail at disappointing them,"

You sigh with him. Not even a day in the palace, and his idea was crumbling into sand and falling at your feet. His family was supposed to dislike you- the poor, magicless commoner from a place no one had even heard of.

They were supposed to awkwardly avoid you for the rest of the summer, and give both you and Leona some peace.

Instead, Falena was taken with your intelligence, you charmed his wife, and Cheka has been begging you to play with him all day.

"Well, this blows," Leona mutters, breaking the silence.

"Should we make out?"

Way to ruin the somber mood.

You shoot up in bed, eyes wide. "You JUST SAID nothing was going to happen!"

Leona scoffs, though there's an obvious smirk playing on his lips, as if he's trying and failing to be annoyed with your overblown reaction. He sits up with you.

"Relax. I was kidding,"

"Were you?"

"I was,"

You stare at each other for a moment longer, his eyes travelling across your face, his lips still curved into a smirk.

And then he closes the distance between you in the dark room and kisses you.

Once the shock has worn off and you can feel your soul re-entering your body, you kiss back. His hands rest on your waist, and then your hips, and then he's pulling you towards him with such ferocity that you end up on your back beneath him, expensive blankets thrown to the side.

You kiss in a way that you would dare not admit to anyone outside of the walls of his room, and after a few minutes, he pulls away, leaving you a breathless mess on the bed.

"Hm," he hums, running his thumb across your bottom lip, wiping up the spit that had collected there.

"...I don't know about you, but if we're going to be stuck in this room together for the whole summer, I think we should at least enjoy ourselves, hm?"

[redr0sewrites]

k. takami nsfw alphabet

🍊 A/n: wanted to do one of these for a long time hehe! also cannot believe this is my first time writing for hawks like,,,,

🍊 Cw: nsfw, smut, marking, phone sex, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, corruption kink, overstimulation

🍊 dividers

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

the first word that comes to mind is definitely clingy. i think that after sex, especially with someone whom he's very close with emotionally, Hawks is really desperate for physical contact and intimacy. his aftercare game is okay, he'd put in the effort, but he prefers to just relax and cuddle with you and deal with any mess in the morning. i also think he'd prefer to be pampered a bit rather than do the pampering, but if you're too tired i do think he'd take care of you too. falls asleep as close as possible to you, often crushing you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

i think on himself, Hawks struggles a lot with choosing a favorite, but overall i think its his hands. they're a lot softer than the rest of him, since he's always wearing gloves, and he loves that they give you so much pleasure. plus, i think he has like larger hands than most, and they're just very pretty (and he has prominent veins + a bit of hair on his knuckles urgrhrhrhr im deceased). on you, i think he's either a tummy or thighs type of guy. he likes resting on your stomach or thighs because his wings make it difficult to sleep on his back, and he also really enjoys how much your thighs and stomach tremble when you're overstimulated or about to cum. likes leaving hickeys there as well.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

honestly he'll cum anywhere. if you're just a hookup Hawks is pretty normal about it, he'll use a condom and call it a day, but if he's in an intimate relationship with someone i think he'd really like cumming inside or on your stomach or chest. seeing his cum dripping on your body kinda soothes those weird primal bird instincts he sometimes gets- i feel like he would occasionally get super possessive about cumming on you. he also really likes how wet you get when he's already cum inside a few times and can hear soft squelches everytime he thrusts into you, thats just like an oddly specific turn on of his.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

definitely masturbates to the thought of you, probably even before you officially get together. i don't think he's a big fan of porn, so Hawks pretty much only gets off using his imagination. has probably sneaked a few photos of you in a low cut shirt or tight shorts to use for... later purposes. the embarrassment and shame he feels about violating your privacy only turns him on more. in addition to this, Hawks has a v complicated relationship with morality and would probably get turned on by nefarious or risky acts like public sex or something of the like, simply because it would probably ruin his public image.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

experienced in hookups, but not in intimacy, if that makes sense. like sure, Hawks has slept with people, but hasn't had many long term or romantic partners. all this to say, he's experienced with fucking, but not so much with truly making love. either way, he's talented in getting you off, but probably not talented with specific kinks or holding eye contact n stuff- at least at first.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

basic missionary, mating press, or 69ing. he likes seeing your face and reactions, especially if you're in a serious relationship. however, he's also a certified munch and loves giving head so he drabbles in that as well.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

honestly it depends on his mood. sometimes i can see Hawks being very silly and taking it slow, probably when you're more comfortable in the relationship or are feeling especially tired or emotional. however when he's stressed or irritated he's more serious and less prone to joking around. also depends on how you respond, and if his silliness lightens the mood and makes you more comfortable, then he's damn well trying his hardest to please you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

amazing at manscaping. pubes are a little darker than the rest of his hair, probably curl too. he trims but doesn't shave completely, and has a really nice happy trail. probably spends a lot of time on self care,, in addition to this, he probably wouldn't care on whether or not his partner shaves, but would probably have a preference for more hair rather than none.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

at first Hawks isn't great with intimacy but gets better as the relationship progresses. at the start he's mildly awkward and moreso pursuing pleasure than emotional connections, but once he's sure that the relationship is serious than he himself is a lot more romantic. if he truly cares for you than you best believe he's going all out- from rose petals to candlelight, he wants you to know that he cares. i also think he'd be very sweet and considerate during the deed, like even at the start of a relationship he will always make sure he isn't hurting you or making you feel uncomfortable in any way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

does it a lot. he has a pretty high libido, and he can't be around you all the time, and while he wishes that he could sleep with you whenever he's feeling horny it can't be helped that some nights are spent with him fucking into his fist instead. like ive said before, he's not a big fan of porn and would prefer to jack off to you or photos of you. HUUGEEE on phone sex and mutual masturbation, especially when he's away on hero business, and its so hot to hear him rasping and whimpering into the speaker about how much he misses you and wishes you were there.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

starting off strong, definitely marking. loves to mark you and be marked himself. wears hickeys with pride. also big on overstim, both giving and receiving. its just super hot to him to watch you squirm, but also likes to be fucked dumb as well. mild corruption kink, especially if you're super inexperienced, because most of the time he's probably the more experienced person in any sexual relationship. likes flustering you a lot. some more include praise, especially receiving, and also sensory play, both giving and receiving

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

prefers the bedroom, but would also not mind public sex or perhaps in a cramped space. likes the risk, but it's so inconvenient, especially with his wings. also a fan of bath or hot tub sex

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

lots of things. gets really horny around spring, again, bird instincts, but most of the time it's just you simply existing that gets him going. really likes seeing you in revealing clothes, especially when you're intentionally trying to tease him. big fan of thigh highs or garters, and crop tops that show your stomach. also when you touch his wings or feathers. that is probably the quickest way to turn him on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i'd say hawks is pretty experimental, but wouldn't want to do anything that he thinks would hurt you too much or make you uncomfortable. i also think he'd be ehh in terms of wax play or fire play for obvious reasons unless you really truly wanted to try it out, but other than that i think he's down for anything you would like to try. i also think he'd be against blindfolding himself or covering his eyes in general, as it reminds him of how the commission used to train him

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

giver giver giver. as much as he loves receiving, Hawks fucking LOVES to give head, he's absolutely a certified munch and whether or not you have a pussy or dick he's sucking and slurping like its his last meal. loves how you taste, loves when you grind your hips against his face and chin, loves when you cum in his mouth, loves when your thighs squeeze his head. also fucking loves facesitting. please just let him drown between your thighs...

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

honestly his pace varies. when Hawks is pissed off he tends to be a lot rougher and filthier, but he also has a really soft n gentle side too. it depends a lot on how he's feeling and how you're feeling in the moment. i do think he has a lot of stress, especially prewar!Hawks, and so that definitely leads to a lot of rough sex. i also think he likes savoring the moment though, and obviously he loves you a lot so he wouldn't want to hurt you. sure, people say he goes too fast for his own good, but he's more than willing to slow down for you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

loves them. any and every chance he gets, Hawks is more than willing to fuck you. overall the mixture of both risk and passion is very appealing to him, and since he's often super busy, he appreciates any sex you can hve that fits your respective schedules. fifteen minutes before an important meeting? sure, he's got time to spare- he'll sit you on his desk and eat you out/suck you off until your seeing stars with a few minutes to spare.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

definitely big on risk, and is willing to try anything you want to try. however, a lot of his preferences depend on you rather than himself, and so he's also fine with being pretty vanilla in the bedroom as well. really likes teasing you in public or inconvenient places tho,,, half the hero community has caught you both making out at least once or twice

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

out of all the Bnha men he probably has the highest stamina. not only can he last a while, but he doesn't take long to recover after an orgasm. and, in addition to this, more often than not he's focused much more on his partners pleasure than his own so i really see him being determined to make you cum at least three times, if not more. overall he's got great stamina and he's very focused on your pleasure soo,,, A+ partner

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

probably never really thought about using toys on himself, at least until he started sleeping with you. you introduce him to a bullet vibrator and he cums so many times he's shaking n whimpering. when it comes to you, he loves using toys on you to tease you, but prefers to actually get you off using his own body. doesn't mean he won't use them, but prefers to make you cum himself. has a trusty pair of handcuffs that he uses a lot though

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

ohhh all the time. teases you both in public and in private, sometimes when he's not even horny and just for his own enjoyment. teases you a lot in the bedroom as well, and just. loves seeing you squirm. teases you a lot with his feathers too- like you'll be taking a casual stroll when all of a sudden a slim red feather is sliding under your shirt to rest against your chest,,,, how odd! i also think Hawks would tease you a lot unintentionally? like he's rubbing your thigh while he's driving or pulling you into a kiss by the neck and then wondering why you get so hot n bothered. his hand placement is peak, he's incredibly flirtatious even when he doesn't mean to be, and overall he's just. a huge tease. he's a total hypocrite though because Hawks gets soo pouty when you tease him. he's like miraculously surprisingly easy to fluster simply because he's not used to being the one on the receiving end.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

when he's more dominant i don't think he's as vocal as when he's submissive. when he's domming i think you'll hear a lot of groans and dirty talk but overall he's relatively quiet, however when he's subbing he moans and whimpers a lot. i also think he talks a lot during sex, like he babbles about how hot you are and how good he feels even when he's more dominant

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

his wings/feathers + back are very sensitive and a huge erogenous zone ! they're also very expressive and if you watch his wings a lot, it's easy to tell when he's worked up or horny simply because of little tells he has. however they can also be ticklish sometimes, so occasionally during sex he gets a little giggly because the its both pleasurable but also. hes ticklish.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's big, and very pretty. i'd say at least 7 inches, maybe 7.5 when he's hard. he's got a few prominent veins on the underside of his cock, and a very nice happy trail too. his tip is also a very nice shade of pinky brown.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

his sex drive is pretty high, not insanely so but to the point where he tries to sleep with you at least once a week, but if you're sex drive is very low he's fine with compromising. if you're sex drive is higher than his though? you're absolutely blessed because he's more than willing to fuck wherever and whenever. a personal hc of mine is that Hawks is like especially horny during the spring... bird mating season.... so be prepared. i just think its kinda funny

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

honestly it depends on how quickly you fall asleep. if you want to clean up before going to sleep and get some aftercare done, then sure he'll stay up, but if you want to stay in bed and cuddle and leave the mess till the morning... well he's out like a light.

i love these type of hcs SO much, i have another set for shigaraki and touya on the way.... anywyss ! hope u enjoyed!! PLS SEND IN BNHA REQS RAHH

[dovesdreaming]

can u do dating king ben headcannons

❦King Ben dating headcanons❦

I loved writing this and I could go on forever about him so if anyone wants more of these headcanons I still have loads in my brain! Thank you for requesting!! <3 I made it gender neutral as I didn’t know if you wanted it with a female reader or not hope that’s ok!

Warnings: none

-He is the most respectable and affectionate boyfriend ever. Once you’re dating he always has his hands somewhere on you because he loves being close to you. His absolute favourite though is forehead touches. It allows him to look directly at you with no interruptions.

-Cannot take his eyes off of you. Even before you started dating he would just go into his own world while staring at you. Would spend forever looking at you if he could.

-Before you started dating he would always try to impress you but he’s a little nervous so it ends up being a bit of a clumsy mess but you found it cute and laughed at him so he saw it as a win. Would go from being clumsy to so smooth with flirting with you though.

He jogs up to you at your locker after class and leans on the lockers next to yours. He’s looking down into your eyes, not breaking contact while wearing his signature smirk and just comes out with shameless flirting that I don’t think he even realised he’s doing it. It’s such a shock to your system you just turn to mush and hide your face from him. Would be the type of man to lean down so that he could still see your face or grab your chin and bring your face back to him.

-Could take him back to your parents any day, maybe not if they’re villains though they would probably hate his goody too shoes kind of life.

-Would always stand up for you and defend your name.

-His love for you is so pure and unbreakable. He definitely falls first and deeper. Ben just holds so much love for you that you would never be able to comprehend it.

-Would treasure anything you ever gave him even if it was as simple as a daisy you picked when you were sitting on the grass together. He would watch you so closely if you ever made a daisy chain and would be more than happy to wear it. Would happily let you place flowers in his hair if it made you happy.

-Loves holding your hand and will always take the opportunity to hold it. Makes cheesy excuses to do it even if you’ve been dating for a while. Would be like “your hands are freezing, I definitely need to hold them to warm them up”.

-Cheesiest boyfriend ever. He does most of it on purpose just to see you smile.

-Hopeless romantic and can’t help but to spoil you. Ben is always organising the cutest and romantic dates you could imagine. Always gives you your favourite flowers.

-Would always be so interested in anything you have to say, staring so intently into your eyes so that you know he’s listening. He would remember the smallest details about you and when it resulted in him getting you a gift or saying something to do with it you would melt. He wouldn’t know how to react because he just saw it as a normal thing to do because why wouldn’t he remember everything about you and everything you say to him?

-Is a puppy. Will follow you everywhere he can and will be at your beck and call. Will also whine and moan whenever he’s not in your presence or you have to leave him.

-Would do anything for you and would do anything to see you happy, he can’t stand it when your sad.

-Would give you absolute princess treatment no matter your background. Always pulls your chair out for you, holds doors open and would lay his jacket over a puddle if needed. The type of boyfriend to swap shoes or clothes with you if yours were hurting you and would have no shame if he looked weird. Would also carry you round on his back if you preferred that option.

-Would dedicate any points or winning games to you. Would definitely try to teasingly embarrass you this way. It would mean the world to him if you came onto the pitch after a winning game and ran into his arms. Would pick you up and swing you round, giving you a massive kiss when he puts you down.

-Loves, loves, LOVES seeing you in his clothes. He would feel that deep feeling of love for you and his beast would slightly come out with any feelings of possessiveness it ignited in him. Imagine him seeing you wear his crown he would be on his knees for you.

-Loves when you run your fingers through his hair, especially when cuddling. If you ever refused, even in a joking way, he would beg you to do it with his best puppy eyes.

-Is the best hugger ever. His height combined with his big arms make for the comfiest and warmest hug ever.

-If the beast ever comes out he would be so protective over you it would be so funny. I feel like this side of him even when in his normal form would make him such a biter. Not even sexually, he just gets the urge to lovingly bite your shoulder and nibble.

-Always keeps you close by his side, especially at big events. Mainly so no harm comes to you but also because your a massive comfort to him and being in your presence immediately calms his nerves.

-Ben is a big cuddler and could be either big spoon or little spoon depending on the day. Definitely loves lying on top of you, his face on your chest listening to your heartbeat or squished into your neck.

-Always confides in you with any worries he has about becoming king and ruling Auradon. You immediately squish them and reassure him.

-He couldn’t wait to rule the kingdom beside you with you as his king/queen. Would lovingly call you “my queen/king”. In fact he would give you every pet name under the sun he just couldn’t help himself, his love for you poured out of him in buckets and he just had to let you know in every way he can.

-Would always show you off to everyone and be so proud to call you his partner. Ben would bring you up in conversation all the time and everyone just got used to it and let him because they secretly thought it was cute how in love he was with you.

-Acts like he’s under a love spell with how down bad he is for you

-Overall the love you share is so soft and pure it’s such a fairytale relationship and all you could ever wish for. Ben is the perfect boyfriend.

Thank you for reading! im so excited to write for all the descendants requests<3

[denwritesandcries]

The Wilderness Wants Us To (Kiss) – YJS

Pairing: poly!yellowjackets x fem!reader

Summary: You have experienced all kinds of weirdness ever since the plane crashed months ago, so why the weirdest thing so far is it seems like all the girls are suddenly courting you? 

Or, a series of kisses between you and your dear football team.

Word count: 4,6k.

Content: cursing, kisses, fluff, suggestive, angst if you blink, slightly dark, intoxication, the doomcoming, the wilderness but nobody has been eaten (yet).

Note: They’re all weirdos in a romantic, toxic and codependent way.

English is not my first language.

Your life has stagnated into a familiar routine since the plane crash. To clean. Hunt. Eat. Exist. Survive. Doing the same chores in the cabin, the usual hunting trip, seeing the same faces every day, not dying of hunger.  Not dying of boredom.

Nothing really seems to change other than the cultish trends that your friends seem to be slowly embracing, so if something different happens, you notice it immediately.

Once is an incidence.

Two, it could be a coincidence, but there are no coincidences in the wilderness.

Three is a pattern. That exists in the wilderness.

And the fourth is proof that there is definitely something weird going on – if you even have a sense of what is normal or not –, something that you have no idea what it is, but you know it’s there.

There's something wrong with your teammates. I mean, there's something wrong with all of you, but that's different even for them.

The thing is that you, thinking that maybe it was just in your head, only realized that you weren't imagining anything after the fifth time it happened and now that you know you can't stop thinking about it. Events keep coming back to you from times when this has happened before and you never connected the pieces.

You didn't notice at first, of course you didn't. Physical affection was becoming more common and normal between all of you every day and also because it was Jackie, the captain of your team, and physical affection on Jackie's part was already completely normal even before the plane crashed. She liked to pat you on the shoulder and hug you goodbye after classes and parties – as if she hadn't spent the day barking orders at everyone during practice, but it's Jackie and you really like her a lot, so it's okay –, you could always see her clinging to Shauna's arm, if not hers, then whoever was closest to replace her for a few minutes. Jackie likes to touch and you know it.

Receiving affection from her is like second nature, so you don't even blink when, on yet another boring and lazy afternoon, you give Jackie her old walkman, now repaired and working, and get a kiss as a thank you.

It was a silly treat to make her smile, just because she seemed so sad lately that it made you sad too. She squeals loudly and excitedly, before wrapping her arms around your neck and placing a kiss on your cheek.

She immediately runs off somewhere saying she was going to test it and show it to Shauna, completely abandoning the task of pretending to chop wood so you can complete it.

You only process what just happened when you hear a giggling coming from nearby, because of course Jackie would kiss you in front of your younger colleagues.  One of them points at your cheek provocatively and you lift a hand to your face to feel the texture of pink and shiny lipstick marking your skin. Of course, silly you not to assume that Jackie Taylor wouldn't stop wearing makeup just because of some plane crash.

Whatever, you thought, not bothering to clean the mark. Jackie is sweet. She does things like that all the time, obviously you wouldn't think there's anything weird about it. It wasn't even the first time she kissed you. Kisses on the cheek were a thing long before you left civilization.

You only wipe the stain from your face, in a short and hasty gesture, when you return to the cabin and Mari makes one of her smart comments about it, because there really was no big deal, but the provocation still makes you a little nervous.

(Jackie wears lipstick a lot more often after that, even though she's quickly running out of the only one she has left, but you don't say anything. It would be really weird to imply that you noticed her lips that much. Which you didn't do, no way.)

The second time it happens shouldn't have left you as perplexed as it did, after all everyone knew that Shauna Shipman was never far behind Jackie in the things she did, but it didn't pass through your head that she would kiss you. It was Shauna. Even though she was never rude, you weren't really close and it was embarrassing to admit that you found her a little intimidating. She had a tendency to stare in silence for a long time, which made you avoid conversations whenever you could.

Well, it wasn't a kiss-kiss since it wasn't actually on the mouth, but seeing as you weren't expecting it at all, it could have been. You're learning that reading Shauna is much more complicated than it seems, making it difficult to know if what awaits you is a punch, a bite, or – the most recent discovery – a kiss.

It happened because of the thing that seemed to drive your little society: meat. Because the food was almost running out and no matter what you and Natalie brought, it seemed like there would never be enough. And Shauna was hungry. Painfully hungry.

She always seemed to get hungry more quickly than the others, craving meat with an almost drunken need and you didn't quite understand why, even though you had noticed this detail some time ago. So when you and Nat are seen arriving back at the cabin carrying a deer, a big deer, Shauna practically runs up to the two of you, basically ripping the antler out of the blonde's hands and making you stumble to follow her back to the meat house.

You offer to help her just out of politeness and how rushed she seems, without expecting a positive response since it was common knowledge that Shauna preferred to work alone.

However, she nods her head enthusiastically as she hands you a knife and you swear you've never seen someone look so happy to slit an animal's throat alongside someone else.

When the task is done, you end up at the door with a full tray ready to be prepared for dinner back and Shauna is right behind you, with that same enthusiasm and silent yearning. It's a little unnerving, but at least she's not staring at the back of your head like she's trying to burn you like she usually does. You guessed any progress was welcome.

You just didn't expect it to progress to Shauna pulling you by the elbow to face her and tilting your face towards hers. You're so startled by the sudden touch that you only feel your face heat up as hot, wet lips meet the corner of your mouth when Shauna pulls away, taking the tray from your hands as if it weighed nothing and continuing on her way, muttering a quiet and embarrassed “thank you” over her shoulder.

You stood there like an idiot, feeling your bottom lip and part of your cheek tingle where she touched you just a moment before.

So Shauna kissed you. Okay. Nice. Maybe she was just very grateful and very hungry. Twice, coincidence. Nothing more than that.

 Right?

(Shauna looks away from you when she's caught staring at that night, which never had happened, but you attribute her red face to the fact that you're sitting by the fire.)

The third time is the one that makes you go “okay, maybe that's a thing now,” because apparently the kisses have nothing to do with Jackie-Shauna or simply gratitude – at least not entirely – and much more to do with the fact that it's you.

Which actually doesn't make much sense. Van and Taissa are together, why would either of them feel the need to kiss someone else? Why would they both feel?  And why you? It's true they haven't told anyone yet, but you know. It's a little hard not to notice when they both disappear at the same time into the forest or behind the cabin so often, but still. You don't kiss other people when you're committed. It's a principle, damn it.

Anyway, it's starting to get cold, you think there's just over two months left until winter arrives, maybe less, which makes tasks much more complicated and annoying to do. Especially when it comes to washing clothes.

Luck – Mari's damn shuffle – decided that you, Tai and Van would be the ones to do the laundry this time and the three of you dragged yourselfs grumbling and complaining to the lake, carrying piles of clothes in your arms.

Now, of all the things you have to do around the cabin, scrubbing clothes in cold running water is probably the one you hate the most. Cold, wrinkled hands, chills running down your spine, ew. The fact that Van and Tai went with you makes things at least a little less boring, with the redhead happily filling the silence, her silly jokes making the task almost bearable to accomplish. Almost.

“Ugh,” You groan for what feels like the thousandth time in the last hour, “We’re gonna end up catching a cold like this.”

“You definitely will, if you keep annoying me like this,” Tai replies, swinging her arm towards you, cold water splashing in your arms, “I'm gonna push your dramatic ass into the river, I'm warning you.”

The drops make another chill run through your body, so just for the audacity, you straighten up and let your body fall against hers with the most done expression you can muster in a few seconds.

Tai screams your name indignantly when a wet t-shirt slips out of her hands and falls straight to the ground, but you don't pay much attention when lets out a loud and exaggeratedly long sigh, hearing Van’s laugh as she watches the scene.

And Van, wonderful, too sweet for her own good, Van, decides to finally take pity on your little show – maybe you really were spending too much time with Jackie – and finish what you had left of your part of the pile and you would definitely have jumped in her arms and kissed her for it, if you weren't, you know, in front of her girlfriend.

It turns out that blinking your eyes and sighing doesn't work as well for you as it does for Jackie, because as soon as you get ready to go back, bending down to pick up the heavy basket full of clothes, a familiar hand pushes your chest.

“Shit, Taissa!”

“I said I would do it, didn’t I?” She stands in front of you, hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised as she watches your form lying, shaking and soaking wet at the river's edge.

Van's laugh doesn't bring you that rush of happiness from moments before, since now you're sure that she only decided to help you because she knew what Tai was going to do anyway. That little shit.

You walk past them with the basket in your hands, a trail of water in your wake and a frown on your face.

The way back is completely silent, except for the sound of your fast breathing in your rush to get there and warm up and the girls' requests for you not to get upset over a silly joke. Whatever. You won't say a word to them no matter what they do.

“Oh, come on,” Van wraps an arm around your neck, “We didn’t want to make you so upset, right Tai?”

Tai moves closer, her shoulder brushing against yours, but you remain quiet regardless, even if your willpower to remain upset wanes a little.

“Right” she agrees, sounding very unconvincing, “What can we do to make it up to you?”

“We are so sorry,” Van reiterates, blinking innocently.

Your only response is a noise from your throat that sounds a lot like a petulant mumble and you feel the look they exchange over your shoulder.

And then Van's arm brings you closer and there are lips on either side of your neck. You freeze, breath hitches.

It's not fast like the other ones, but long and drawn out as if it's trying to prove you. A shiver runs down your spine and the baby hairs on the back of your neck stand up, even though you swear it's just because your skin is still damp from the fall. You can feel Van's hair tickling your face and Tai's breath is warm against your chin.

You blink and Van is walking away with a wolfish smile on her lips, whistling absentmindedly and Taissa has the basket you were carrying in her own arms.

“Aren’t you coming?” Van turns when she notices you still standing and Tai arches an eyebrow, as if to say 'so?' and you stumble after them.

“...Sure, whatever!” You stutter, face as red as your goalie’s hair, “But if I get sick, that’s on you!”

“You won’t!”

You return to the cabin with your head down, but for a completely different reason this time. You feel weird, embarrassed, even with your friends walking calmly beside you. It feels weird to just call them friends too.

(Three times – or was it four? It's a pattern. Definitely a pattern.)

You do, in fact, get sick and the fifth time feels more like a fever dream than anything.

Seriously. You survive a plane crash without any serious injuries, but a flu is what knocks you out. You end up in the attic, with a heavy chest, incessant sneezing and a high fever that won't let you sleep.

And of course, Misty Quigley hovering over you like a hawk.

In fact, all your friends seem to be hovering over you in an overprotective way these days, which might not be strange considering the situation, but other people in the group have gotten sick before, including the younger ones, and none of them have reacted like this.

Van and Tai spent the entire time staring like kicked puppies from across the room until Misty kicked them both downstairs so you could try to get some sleep. It wasn't doing much good, but the momentary tranquility was really appreciated.

Misty has been with you the whole time since your fever started and you let her ramble happily while she plays nurse, putting damp cloths on your forehead and helping you drink hot tea, even though you insist you're well enough to do so. She seems very happy to be helpful, so you let her spoil you as much as she wants.

You turn over on the cold floor, wrapping the blankets tighter around you as you sneeze again and Misty sits next to you, but there's nothing she can do at the moment to make you better, so she stays still, looking nervous and pushing her glasses on the tip of the nose with her fingers.

You think about how she seemed to have looked with longing and something that might have been envy when Jackie ran her hand through your hair in the morning before going outside with Shauna after leaving you another blanket. She looked the same when Lottie rubbed your shoulder gently and spent time by your side throughout the afternoon, leaving what appeared to be a half-cut crystal near where your head rested. It's just like she wanted something, but didn't know what or if she could do it. You don't know exactly what too.

Your ears ring and you think about your teammates, your friends and kisses. Four kisses on three occasions. Things that didn't happen before, but apparently happen now and that follow a strange pattern. You wonder who will be next to follow it.

You do what you do next in the fog of sleep and fever, because you'll never be able to actually sleep if you don't have a proper place to rest your head. It has nothing to do with the possibility opened in your last thought.

Her legs are soft under the blue and yellow shorts she wears when you crawl around and rest your head on them and it's certainly much more comfortable than the floor.

“Talk,” You mumble, clearing your throat at the hoarse voice.

“What?” She squeaks and you can tell it caught her in surprise by the way her eyes roam over your form, unsure of what she just heard and what's going on.

Misty is clearly alarmed, arms raised above her body as if she's afraid to touch you, her glasses falling onto the tip of her nose again as she looks down to face you, blonde curls falling across her face.

“What– What are you doing?” She asks.

“Weren’t you saying something about Plato?” You hold back a yawn as you fix yourself on her lap, ignoring her question completely, “Come on, keep going.”

She seems to ponder for a second, jaw dropped in confusion, but you don't move, so she picks up where you assume she left off. After a few minutes listening with your eyes closed, you feel her soft hand rest hesitantly on your back, running her fingers up and down when you don't protest.

You let out a sigh when you finally manage to relax, her voice calming the ringing in your ears a little and when you squint your eyes, Misty seems perfectly satisfied.

That's it, you think, that's what she wanted then.

Your body still has sporadic chills, but you feel like falling asleep, having lost track of how much time has passed with Misty talking to the walls about whoever the philosopher of the moment is. Your head feels heavy, you can barely keep your eyes open. It's good not to be alone when you're like this.

You're not sure whether or not you imagine the cold lips against your warm forehead when you sleep, but it counts as success for your little test. Five.

(You only wake up the next morning, feeling much better and more energetic, even without remembering a single word you said to Misty, just having fallen asleep on her lap for a while. The way she blushes and laughs after that, staring and following you around whenever she can, says that she remembers it very well. Coach Ben gives you a look full of sympathy when he sees her clinging to your arm, which you don't quite understand.)

The sixth time happens in the middle of the forest. It's windy, sun almost down, with Natalie walking beside you. It's the most peaceful moment you've had in your life in weeks, and it's also the moment you realize that maybe there's something wrong with you as much as the rest of the team.

Nat is talking, complaining about how Travis – the closest thing she'll have to a boyfriend in this place – is mad at her. He won't hunt or talk to her, much less touch her.

That's why you're following her, actually, the hunting part. You don't have much sense of your place in the group compared to the others, doing a little bit of everything when necessary, but Natalie seems to enjoy your company on these occasions, even if your aim with the rifle isn't as good as hers.

You spend so much time listening to her complain about mundane things like condoms and the flask of old booze she found in dead-mummified-guy's stuff that you feel the absurd urge to laugh. It's so strangely normal – except for the mummy part, but still.

Maybe that was what made you open your mouth after minutes of silence and broken snorts:

“So he can't get it up once and now he's mad at you? Damn Nat, if you need someone to make out that badly then I could help you with that.”

It comes out half as a mockery, half as truth, because that's what you do. Help people, fix things. But it's sarcastic, because it's just a stupid idea for Natalie to even consider.

Except she suddenly goes quiet and when you turn your head, she's looking at you. Eyes half-closed, mouth open, wanting.

When she kisses you, you're already waiting, longing for it, arms wrapping around you and pressing your body against the nearest tree. You think about how she was the only one who had the courage to chase your lips, to take what she really wanted.

The only thing you can feel is the weight of Nat's hands – cold, always so cold, even though winter is still a while away – on your hips, one sliding up your back to grasp the hair at the back of your neck, lips parting and tongue finding yours almost desperately and then you can't think about anything else but her. Natalie, who is much stronger than she looks and who also holds her own to stay sane in this place much better than anyone could imagine. Natalie, the bane of your existence and also your best friend. Natalie, who kisses like she hunts: with all the confidence her reputation demands.

If you close your eyes tightly and try hard, you can almost pretend you're at one of Lottie or Jeff's parties, listening to your friend complain about a stupid boyfriend, getting euphoric because she likes you better than the said stupid boyfriend.

And then she's pulling away, mouth swollen and hair completely messed up from where your hands had been placed. The moment ends and you come back to reality, picking up the rifle from where it was lying on the grass and looking around uncertainly. You guys didn't catch anything today. Food is running out.

You return to the cabin in complete silence.

(You don't see Natalie trying to talk to Travis after this, nor him with her, but you don't think she cares.)

You stopped counting after that, kisses and touches becoming a blur in your mind as the days pass and your worry increases. Whatever this is seems less important than what's happening at the moment: little food, few coats, winter approaching, a fucking baby coming.

However, it all comes back to them anyway, when you finally realize that you were right all along, that there really was something wrong with all of you and everything goes south quickly when someone decides to put mushrooms in the food.

It was an unspoken knowledge between you that the Yellowjackets would never be able to have a proper homecoming, so when the idea of a ​​doomcoming came up in the conversation, even as a bad joke, you were one of the first to agree to it. A bittersweet goodbye sounded better than nothing.

You just didn't expect everyone to end up on drugs and acting like they were in some kind of cult. What did you miss that got you all to this point?

There is someone howling in the forest. Someone, not an animal. Or maybe they really were animals, given the way they're all chasing you now.

Just a moment ago you were genuinely enjoying the night, dancing with Ravi to Lottie's humming music and drinking fermented punch for who knows how long, even with a small feeling of being watched sent shivers down your spine at times. Then there was no sign of Ravi or Travis – nor Coach Ben, but he escaped somewhere in the woods with Natalie's canteen in his hand the second Misty's back was turned – and things started to get... confusing after everyone helped themselves to some stew.

Now there's someone howling in the forest and your head is spinning, hurried footsteps sound behind you as you end up back in front of the cabin after running in circles, a rabbit cornered by an entire pack.

Leaves are stuck in your hair, the hem of your dress is torn and covered in dirt, and you're sure you scraped one of your knees while running. There are also a bunch of dilated pupils focused on you.

Shauna is the first to approach, which surprises you so much that it gives the others time to do the same, big, sad, hazy brown eyes seeming to see deep into your soul.

“Why do you keep running away from us?” she asks, a pout that you can't tell if it's fake or not formed on her face, sliding a hand gently up your arm to your waist pulling you close and keeping her grip tight.

Jackie has her head cocked to the side and a smile painted red rather than pale pink like the first. She looks a little more composed than you'd expect, standing next to Shauna and bouncing in her step expectantly.

That was all it took to realize that you couldn't pull away even if you wanted to, melting against the scalding skin as if you had no problem getting burned.

“I'm not. I just… I don’t know what’s going on.”

The words came out slow and slurred on your tongue as if you didn't know exactly what you were referring to.  This whole crazy night? Absolutely, but there are also so many other moments not recognized before.

You find yourself guided back to the cabin when you hear Lottie's voice in the background and Misty taking your hand to guide you. It all ends up there anyway.

You're unsure when you're placed in the pile of blankets and sheets on the floor, the lit fireplace warms the room like never before and there seem to be hands everywhere when Natalie enters your field of vision.

“I think you're a little too high right now, hun,” Nat scoffs, as if she's amused by your slowness.

You feel a laugh grow in your chest though you don't mean to, “You– you think so?”

“Yep,” she clicks her tongue, “The mushrooms hit hard.”

“Mushrooms!?” You let out a squeak of surprise when you're suddenly pulled back against someone's front, recognizing Taissa's nails scratching your back through your dress.

“'M sorry." Misty mutters disjointedly, tracing the lines of your palm like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

“What–”

You stop mid-sentence when you make a sound in the back of your throat as you feel Van's teeth graze the junction of your shoulder and neck, bright green eyes and a wolfish smile on her recently healed face. You knew right away who the hell was howling.

“Oh, come on,” Van echoes with the same provocation from the day in the lake, “Don't tell me you're afraid of It.”

“It?” Your breath hitches when a hand guides your head up and there she is.

Lottie Matthews looking down at you, an antler crown on her head that makes you slack-jawed and hazy looking, looking completely divine and you hesitate when you realize that the entire team has gathered around you, as if they were waiting for something. What the fuck is going on?

Lottie leans down to your level, face dangerously close to you, and you swallow hard when your eyes settle on her lips. She never kissed you, not like the others, something that always left a doubt in your head; an almost embarrassing curiosity to know what it would be like.

She meets your eyes with a malicious gleam, like she knows exactly what you're thinking and leans in a little more and just as you close your eyes to meet hers, hunger lips stray to your jaw.

“Lottie–” you squirm and the hands on your hips hold you tighter.

Nat silences you, running her fingers through your face provocatively while Lottie trails kisses down your neck, working her way down. Everything seems too stuffy, like you're melting at their touch.

“It's okay.” She reassures, cold, chapped lips finding your chest, teeth scraping the skin, “It wants us to, can't you feel It?”

You can't feel it, not really, you never understood this strange connection everyone seemed to feel with the wilderness that you didn't, but there are gentle hands caressing you, making you sink deeper and deeper and Lottie is finally kissing you, just like you wanted; lips stopping right over your heart, as if she wanted to devour it.

“Yeah." You say, “I feel it.”

You're sure the cabin is on fire, but you're the only one who's burning.

[ghost-proofbaby]

kissing lessons

summary: you and robin have already shared several firsts as best friends: your first time holding hands, your first time cuddling someone, your first time flirting. so what's a little platonic kissing?

pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader

warnings: lots of sapphic pining, yearning, etc. assumed unrequited love. hopeless crushing. doing romantic things and claiming they're totally platonic when they very much are not. mentions of reading trying to conform to the 80s standards by dating a boy. reader is explicitly female (which should be given since robin is canonically a lesbian)

wc: 3.4k+

a/n: this one was a long time coming. it's based off of my own first kiss, loosely.

part 2

Being best friends with Robin Buckley has always been about growing – together.

Life has a plethora of lessons for young souls to learn in time, and some of those lessons were simply hard. The first time you picked up a musical instrument and attempted to play your very first note, and it sounded atrocious. Nothing like the movies, more difficult than you could have ever imagined. The first time you walked the halls of your high school, and the terrifying first wave of panic at the realization you’d need to learn the map of the lands in order to navigate that maze for the next four years. The first time you walked into a classroom all of two minutes late, and the first shatter of embarrassment in your chest as every eye in the room turned to you. The first time you trip over your own laces on your way to Chemistry, the first time you impulsively cut your hair with the kitchen scissors, the first time a boy asked you out as a joke, and the first time someone asked you out genuinely only to fumble over every single word. Your first school dance, your first time cooking pasta from scratch, your first time attending a concert without a chaperone. 

Firsts, firsts, firsts. Life is simply full of them, and they never get any easier or kinder, but having a best friend at your side certainly makes it all bearable. 

Robin Buckley was that rock for you. And you, for her. 

It’s sort of how you got into this mess to begin with. 

“It’s going to be weird, isn’t it?” 

“It’s not going to be weird unless we make it weird, Robin.”

“How can I not make it weird? Where would my lips even go?”

You’re both lucky that no one is home to hear all the shrieking currently occurring in your small bedroom. Only the posters on your wall and your teddy bear you’ve had since you were five are witnesses to the current predicament occuring. 

Robin had been the one to suggest it, in all fairness. Graduation was next week, and there had been a lot of reminiscing flying about. All the firsts, all the hopeful lasts, and all the fatal moments you needed to drag by the hair to the backyard and bury six feet under. 

The topic of conversation had veered pretty erratically, turning left towards that one stubborn B left on Robin’s postcard as a result of her refusing to attend her assigned tutoring for Geometry last year, and then sliding right as you’d huffed about that one girl who had been an absolute menace towards you sophomore year when you’d botched your improv solo at a band concert. But in the last five minutes, it had finally straightened out – it had finally begun to follow the trail of a line of remembering that no one else would ever be allowed to know outside of you and Robin. 

You’d brought up the first date you’d ever gone on. A ridiculous milkshake outing with some guy in your freshman English class that had left you feeling more confused than starry eyed or lovesick as the books promised. 

The date that had caused Robin Buckley to offer to hold your hand at random, in private moments, the week leading up to it. Just so you’d know how it felt. Just so you could figure out how to best intertwine your fingers with someone else’s without feeling terrible foreign about it all. 

It had been platonic. You both swore it had been, shrugging carelessly as you’d let your palm meet your best friends. 

And you’d felt more every time your skin brushed hers than you had the entire night with that boy. Spent the entire date wishing it was Robin’s knuckles bumping yours when you’d reached for that damn strawberry milkshake. 

“Against mine, I’d hope.” 

The dissection hadn’t ended at the hand-holding. Next, the two of you had wistfully recalled the sleepover in which you’d first decided to learn how to spoon one another. Robin had read about it in a magazine, you’d never had firsthand experience, and it just felt right to suggest. Robin had rambled for a good five minutes before you’d tugged her back into her bed and commanded her to just lay there as you figured out where you arm should go as your body curved along the back of hers. 

It had been nice. Really nice. 

You’d never gone out on another date after the Great Milkshake Catastrophe, as the two of you had called it. Robin claimed none of the boys at school could handle her eccentricism. Both of you, young girls fumbling about the world, starving for touch completely unaware. You told yourselves everyone cuddled with their friends. You told yourselves it was normal. 

But then, you’d switched positions, Robin being the big spoon as the teen magazine had described, and you swore your heart had burst when her arm wrapped around your waist and her fingers slotted between your own against your abdomen. 

You’d fallen asleep in that position. Awoken to Robin’s face pressed right into your chest as you’d spread out on your back. Ignored the flaky drool stain left behind on your skin when she’d finally joined the living once more. Pretended like you both hadn’t had the best rest of your lives as you’d clung to one another through fading dreams and subtle snores. 

It was normal, right? It had to be, because it was nice, and it had become a part of your normal sleepover rituals. 

Friends used each other’s boobs as pillows all the time, as Robin had defended. 

“Yeah, but, well-” Robin cuts off in her current stricken rambling, throwing her hands out around the air between you two, “What about when it’s more than just pecking? You know? All that gross shit, where tongues get involved and spit is exchanged and, oh God, should we be sucking on some mints right now or something? Oh my God, what if you’re allergic to my chapstic-”

Gross shit. 

The not-so-clever code word the two of you used whenever describing any sort of romantic interactions. Kissing, making out, sex. The things all of your peers were regular experiencing, sometimes even displaying in public, that the two of you only turned your noses up to. 

You didn’t want to suck the face off of Connor in your fifth period pottery class. The only person you could imagine on the receiving end of that that didn’t make your stomach turn was sitting right in front of you now, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as she clearly panicked. 

“I’m not allergic to passion fruit Lip Smackers, Robs.”

The switch to a passion fruit flavor was new. Robin had been using the strawberry flavor religiously prior, but had recently offered it to you with the excuse of your obsession with strawberry flavored things. 

And now, you’d been using it daily. Trying not to think about how many times her lips had been on it prior to yours. Trying not to think about how many ways you could twist it into some sick secondary kissing metaphor, to have your lips slick with the same sticky substance as hers had been so many times before.

Tried not to think about what Robin Buckley’s lips tasted like, period. Easier said than done when the thought crosses your mind every time you lick your lips moment after application, getting the faux sweetness all over your tongue. 

“You could be. And how would we even know? I can’t even drive! If you start to have an allergic reaction, I can’t even take you to the hospital! We don’t have a c-” 

You can’t do it anymore – any other day, you relish in the sound of Robin’s voice as she’ll squeal on and on about everything and anything. But not today. 

You cut her off with a kiss.

The very same kiss you’d both timidly agreed upon when you’d both realized graduation was next week, and neither of you had had your first kiss. 

The same deal as the cuddling. The same deal as the hand-holding. The same deal as all the pick-up lines and flirting you’d try out on each other, the same deal as all the sweet ‘love notes’ you’d write for one another and slip into backpacks and binders alike. 

The same deal as that fluttering in your chest every time she looked up at you at the local pool, eager to see if you’d witnessed her flip beneath the water. The same deal as all the nights you’d cried into your pillow after being pestered about if any boys at school caught your eyes, because you knew they hadn’t and they never would. Your eyes were already too busy, completely captured by the sight of the brunette now pressing her lips against yours. 

None of the boys at school could ever compare. 

Passion fruit and strawberry mingles within the short peck, freckled cheeks and nose smashing against yours in the most awkward fashion possible. It could be weird; it should be weird. 

It’s not. 

When you pull away, Robin is completely stunned into silence for quite possibly the first time in her life. And her lips are shining with some of your residual spit, and her cheeks are the perfect shade of rose that no actual flower could capture.

Mother Nature herself could never replicate the girl in front of you. The girl you’d been best friends with for six years now, the girl you’d pined relentlessly for for just as long. 

Only you’d just recently realized it. Somewhere between the lip smackers exchange and the movie night in which you’d intertwined your legs on the couch and felt the weight of her between your hips as she’d passed out. 

Looking at her now sort of feels like realizing it all over again. Sort of like looking out over a precipice, and taking a deep breath, because you know you’re leaping off the cliff. No scared looks over your shoulder, no hesitation as you throw your foot out into mid-air. 

The kind of rush you’ve never felt with a boy, and never will. 

“Was that…” she whispers, voice hoarse before she clears it, batting her gorgeous lashes and taking the shakiest of breaths, “Was that good?”

“I dunno,” you lie, “I think we should try again.” 

It’s like a dance, you soon realize. Following her steps, guiding her with your own. She slides her way up closer, and you press your back against your headboard. Her hands are shaking when they brush your outer thighs, and your blood is racing as you tug on her elbows to guide her to straddle your lap. 

You both had said, after all, you needed to learn to be better kissers. That you couldn’t leave high school without having shoved your tongue down someone’s throat at least once. Your words, not hers. 

Your desperate attempt to make sure that someone was Robin Buckley. Your pitiful attempt to have the one thing you don’t think you’ll ever be allowed to hold. 

The weight of her on your lap is nice. The feeling of her lips returning to yours is nice. The way neither of your hands know where to go as you let your lips linger together a few seconds longer than the first time is nice. 

It’s far nicer than Connor from English could ever make you feel. It’s far nicer than that poor boy at the diner ever was, though he tried his best. 

You’re the brave one, when it’s all said and done. You’re the first one to let your palms settle at her hips, squeezing ever so gently to feel the softness beneath slot perfectly into your hold. You’re the first one to timidly include tongue, parting both your lips, trying to ignore the shivers running up your spine as all you can taste now is passion fruit lip smackers. 

Even with your own lip balm, you know your lips are horribly chapped. Dreadfully thirsty and desperate to absorb all the love you know isn’t yours to claim at this moment. Chapped lips, quivering hands, shaking breaths. Unsure movements and the ringing question in the back of your head of am I doing this right? 

Is she feeling what I’m feeling? 

Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t. But she’s kissing you back. Her tongue is meeting yours in movements that are nothing like the movies, shy baps that you both will probably laugh about later. Kitten licks to test the waters. 

And then there’s the retreating. The rock of her body as she settles her weight closer to your knees, and her tongue is put away in favor of just letting her lips slot between yours in slow and lazy movements. You can feel every deep breath she takes through her nose between the kisses, you can smell her perfume seeping into your psyche every moment she spends so close to you. 

The only lesson being learned right now is that you were an idiot. You were an absolute fool, and you are absolutely in love with your best friend.

“Better?” she questions when she pulls away entirely, and you try not to whimper. Try not to show her how badly you want this, need this. 

You hate the silence and you nearly wish she’d start babbling again. You wish she’d give you a reason to kiss her and shut her up, if for nothing more than to taste passion fruit and yearning all over again. 

You’re quiet for a few beats, staring at her as your chest heaves and your heart begins to twist up into terrible shapes. “I… Yeah. Yeah. I think we’re getting the hang of it, don’t you?” 

“Oh, absolutely,” her nervous smile breaks, and you wish she wouldn’t continue the thought, but she does, “You’re gonna be a pro in no time, breaking boys hearts left and right when you kiss them like that.” 

You don’t want to break a boy’s heart. You want to break hers – you want to entirely implode her heart the way she has yours, and have the honor to know it was mutual. A mutual destruction you both dove into headfirst. You only want to kiss Robin like this, forever. You only ever want to know how right her hand feels in yours, not some guy who can’t even choke out the right words to invite you to the cinema. 

You want, and you want, and you want. 

And just as you bite your tongue, decide against pouring out all your affections all over your bed sheets and pulling her right back into you again, desperate to share air with her and only her, you can hear your front door slamming over. 

Robin has never moved so quickly in her life. Jumping off your lap, leaping to the edge of the bed as a feverish blush overtakes her entire body. As though she might be embarrassed, as though she might be regretful. 

You still haven’t moved from your position, back sticky with sweat against the headboard, when your parents walk past your open door and say hello. 

They probably don’t even hear your sad and quiet excuse of a returned greeting, too enraptured by Robin’s own excited quip of saying hi. 

Your parents love her. Adore her in a way parents should care for their child’s closest confidant. They treat her like their own daughter, and Robin’s parents do the same for you. Once a month, your mothers meet up for mimosas over brunch and probably giggle about how lucky their girls are to have one another. 

You get it. You love her too. But certainly not in the way you should love your best friend. 

They finally leave, and Robin is quick to turn to you, eyes shining with all the stars and sunshine the Universe could have to offer, “That… um, thank you.”

“For what?” you laugh breathlessly, finally shifting forward, looking down at your thighs that had served as a temporary home to the girl who holds your heart, trying to swallow down any shame and all that rapid longing. 

“For… you know,” she smiles, a secret for the two of you to only ever keep, never sharing with the world. Selfishly, you almost enjoy the sentiment, “I’m sorry I was acting so weird about it before. You were right, it didn’t have to be weird unless we made it weird. I’m lucky to have you as my best friend, you know? And like I said, if you’re…. You know, doing that with boys, you’re going to be a certified heartbreaker. The world isn’t ready for my best friend. Besides! Another thing checked off the list, right?” she pauses, and you swear the smile has gone sad, but you can’t risk the projection, “Now we can both say we’ve done… that… before graduation! And-”

You speak before you can think better of it, interrupting her entirely, “I think I need more practice.” 

She stops in her tracks, eyebrows raising wildly and eyes turning to saucers, “What?”

“I think…” your head reels, desperate to come up with an excuse to kiss her again. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. “I think I need more lessons, yeah? Like, I don’t know. More practice,” Oxygen evades you in desperation, giving your best puppy dog eyes, system in overdrive as you stare at her lips and your voice drops to a careful whisper, “My parents are out of town next weekend… Maybe we could try again then? Same time?” 

You swear her smile shifts, and you hadn’t even noticed the ingenuity in it previously until she dazzles you with one that must be real. As if you’ve just made her year, lightened her load, offered over your first born to the darling girl. 

“Well….” she moves her eyes across the room, focusing on a polaroid photo of the two of you pinned to the wall above the desk, “I mean, we did say lessons, plural. I can see if Steve will cover my shift on Saturday night if that works?” 

Am I doing this right? 

“That definitely works.”

Is she feeling what I’m feeling?

“Perfect. It’s a…. date, then.” 

“It’s a date.” 

It’s not. Only to you, never to her. 

But it’ll be enough. It’s enough to know next Saturday, she’ll be back here, in your bed and in your lap, getting that passion fruit chapstick all over your lips and shaking your chest from the inside out until it’s ready to burst. 

One day, you might be the brave one, when it’s all said and done. You’ll tell your best friend all the ways she feels so nice, and all the ways you want to capture that niceness in a bottle for the rest of your days. You’ll tell her the way you have no interest in the boys at school and how you’re cursed to forever be the heartbroken, never the heartbreaker, and only ever at her hand. The very same one clasping yours as she stands at your front door, thanking you vaguely once more, grinning ear to ear as she gives you three tight squeezes that are completely lost on you. 

Today’s not the day, though. Today is the day where you spend the night in your self-made cage, face buried in the pillow, noises somewhere between desperately muffled screams of frustration and dry sobs of torture leaving your lips as you picture the way she’d looked after the kiss. Her eyes softly shut, her lips still puckered, her neck entirely exposed as she tilts her chin back to look at your ceiling through her eyelids. Picturing the way that next time, you’ll try to convince her the two of you should learn the art of neck kisses. Picturing the way that next time, maybe you’ll grab her hips a little harder or let your hands wander a bit farther to her thighs. 

Tonight is the night you have no idea amongst your pity party, that Robin Buckley is on the other side of town, experiencing the exact same turmoil as she longs for the girl who tastes like her gifted strawberry lip smackers – the very same one Steve Harrington berated on her to get rid of when she’d vomited out all the ways she hates fake strawberry flavoring, but you love it, and she’d convinced herself if she bathed herself in enough of it, you might just want her the way she wants you. 

Tonight’s not the night, though. 

One day, the kissing lessons will simply be kisses. One day.

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[willowed-wisp]

relationship headcanons [ ghost ]

SFW

- You didn’t know what to expect being set up by your childhood friend Kyle Garrick

- Having an inkling it would be someone he worked with in the ‘parachute regiment’. So you expected 5’11”, stocky build and maybe a Mohawk?

- What you got was 6’4”, unable to tell what build he had because of the hoodies and a mask?

- He scared you to begin with, especially when you heard his voice. And Simon was used to that, that’s why he didn’t date… he couldn’t remember the last time he had sex or even spoke romantically to a woman.

- You thought about walking out on the date, but held in there. Realising maybe he was so awkward around the other people in the pub. “Wanna take a walk?”

- “Think you can keep up?” That was the first confident thing Simon had said that night.

- Maybe walking along the canal wasn’t the best choice but he seemed harmless, not a serial killer… He leant against the railings… his eyes reflected the street lamp, the night a dreary sight.

- You went to start your car, no such luck- like your date. He hadn’t told you one thing about himself… date failed and now your car refused to work with you. Your phone at 1% charge… you couldn’t even call a taxi.

- When you started to walk to the pub, an off-road jet black 4x4 pulled up beside you. It was Simon. “Car trouble?”

- “Yeah…”

- “Get in.” Was it a bad idea to jump into the car of someone you’d only just met and communicated with through Kyle? Yes. Were you in any position to turn down his kindness? No. “I’ll drive ya home…”

- Then the pin dropped, “My house keys are in the car,” A dry laugh came from him- trying to imagine what he looked like under that thing.

- “I can’t leave you on the street…” And that’s what led you straight into the passenger seat. His truck was spotless and surprisingly comfortable, like nobody had ever sat in that spot before you. “You can stay at mine for the night, don’t tell Garrick… he’ll have a field day….”

- “Thanks, but you could just drop me at a bus stop?” Not that you wanted that, not that you wanted anything from the good samaritan at the wheel.

- His head shook, “In this area? No chance, love,” You wondered how long he had travelled to go on this date because he had been driving half an hour before he pulled into a drive. From how he looked around getting out of the car and how high the garden hedge was, you thought it was lucky he hadn’t thrown a bag over your head.

- Not that you’d remember where he had taken you anyway.

- His house was almost barren, not many belongings. “Kitchen is on your left, living room on the right and bathroom is upstairs the first door you see…” He was talking much more than he had in the crowded environment.

- “D’ya have a phone charger? I’ll call Kyle to come get me tomorrow to look at the car…” He just gave you a stare, then you realised. Kyle didn’t live in your area anymore, over a hundred miles away. “Fuck…”

- “I’ll take a look at it in the morning…”

- “You sure? I can pay you fuel money,”

- Long story short, Simon turned down your money. And he kept coming back after he fixed your car, jotting your number down in case it gave you any more trouble.

- He doesn’t take his mask off until you have sex for the first time

- After that he rarely wears it when in private with you

- It’s weird when you have guests over (TF141) and he wears the damned thing

- You make sure you wash the masks every other day and make sure Simon alternates

- Never gets spots from them, either.

- Has tattoos but would never get a matching one with anyone

- He thinks it’s a jinx on any relationship or friendship

- You’re probably his first proper relationship

- Discloses he’s in the SAS when he gets deployed about a year into your relationship

- You never realised how worried sick you’d be until he got through the front door

- Bundles you in his arms, never taking the smell of your hair, perfume and skin for granted again

- Fixes all of your car troubles- he may have gone into mechanics had he had a settled childhood

- Finds it difficult to introduce you to the family, not because of you. Because of the baggage.

- His mother welcomed you but with caution in hand. Until you got talking to her and she just seemed to open up to you.

- She invites you round for dinner every Sunday. It makes Simon smile

- Never worked through his emotional baggage about his dad

- So when the subject of kids is brought up, he shudders

- You don’t press the matter, not with Simon

- He’s stubborn and you seem to be the only one who can change his mind

- Simon doesn’t fall in love easily but when he does, it’s deep and he’s never leaving your side

- Much more of a goofball than other people see- those dad jokes are primed and ready for an occasion

- Not a jealous guy, he knows you’re his…

- He’s more worried about you when he’s away

- It’s like a hole in his heart being away from you and he strives to get out uninjured and alive not to burden you

- Knows that if you can get past his work, you’ll get through anything

NSFW

- Your first time was very spontaneous, two months into you seeing him.

- The back of his car, you couldn’t remember the cause of it but you remember making out in the back of his truck

- Going out into the woodlands to cool off but instead, you were hitched on his hips and fingers dragging across his muscular shoulders.

- Clung to each other while his body rolled into yours, you biting down slightly on his clothes. Instead of purring his into the daylight air.

- It didn’t end there, the back of the truck and back at his.

- Practically never ending until the morning… where you’d lay on his chest. He was stroking through your hair

- Whenever he’s asleep, he recounts those memories and every encounter after that.. just so he can be close to you when away

- Surprisingly gentle- knows he’s a big guy

- Though he’s not without his rugged potential. Prefers not to be too rough

- Has sexual experience but nothing above 5 women and then it wasn’t reoccurring

- Doesn’t have a vice for sex, he loves feeling close to you

- Loves facing you, he loves that intimacy

- He’s quite an intimate guy

- Never wears the mask when you have sex

- If you ask him, he refuses… finds it difficult to open up about work and his experiences

- Closer than anybody else would be able to get, over his dead body

————

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[captain-bubble-wrap]

Christmas time engagement with Quinn, yeah? Something to make me feel less #foreveralone or whatever

Gold-coloured holiday lights reflected off the dark water of the bay like diamonds scattered against black velvet. The distant sound of several Christmas songs played from storefronts in the distance. All around downtown Vancouver, laughter could be heard as the city bustled with last minute shopping and dinner plans. It was a magical time of the year, the last fleeting moments of Christmas Eve right before everything shut down.

Quinn had three days off before the season resumed pace as usual on Friday. You had spent the day with your family in Vancouver, before Quinn and yourself would catch a flight to Florida in the early hours of the morning. The day had been wonderful! You helped your mom in the kitchen like you always had, while Quinn and your father talked hockey and the outlook of the Canucks for the playoffs. Your own personal Hallmark movie, that was what today had felt like.

The goodbyes had been hard but then you remembered it would be harder for Quinn in the coming days. You were fortunate enough to have your family outside the city proper, but his were thousands of mile away. You couldn't imagine what that must feel like, but you were appreciative that he had given up some of his rare time off to spend the day with your family instead of catching a flight the night before. There was also another agenda, that Quinn had, that involved needing to spend the day with your family: he wanted the permission from your father to ask for your hand in marriage.

He was an old-fashioned, hopeless romantic at times and this was one of those instances where it was almost necessary. He couldn't picture doing it any other way and thankfully your father appreciated the respect the young man had shown in asking him. Getting the chance to ask him had been harder than he had expected. The kitchen had butted up against the living room, in one large, open-air styled space. They could hear you and your mother just as easy as you could hear them, but just asking your father to leave the room would have been weird for Quinn to ask. He had to get creative. So, while he was having a short conversation with you about lunch, Quinn had texted your father about the idea of leaving the house on the premise of picking up something from in the city.

[Quinn: I need to talk to you about something. Can you make an excuse about us needing to leave the house?]

Your father didn't question it, and brilliantly spun the tale of Quinn and himself needing to pick up some wine that he had forgotten he had ordered. Both of you had looked at your father with mild confusion. He didn't drink wine, hated it actually, but the man probably had his reasons. So, when the two of the moved to leave, you gave Quinn a kiss goodbye as did your parents. Even after all these years, they still seemed to be in love. That was all you wanted in life; you wanted a marriage like they had.

No sooner had the car left the garage, your father turned to Quinn and asked him if everything was okay.

"Is there some kind of problem?" Your father asked.

"No, no, quite the opposite. I um, there was something I wanted to ask you, but I didn't want anyone to overhear it."

"Yeah?" He replied, eyebrow cocked in interest.

"I wanted your permission to marry your daughter."

Brakes were applied instantly, lurching the occupants forward in their seats. Quinn was wide-eyed and nervous, fearing he had said the wrong thing. He was now pained with regret.

"Are you serious?"

Quinn swallowed hard, his brows knitted making his face look more troubled than usual. "I am, yes."

In an instant, your father busts into a wide smile and laughter. "My god, that's great to hear! I always knew you were a good one, Quinn! Shit, you had me nervous there for a minute!"

The car returned to its forward momentum; Quinn sighed a full-bodied sigh of relief. "That makes two of us," he said, fighting a wave of dizziness.

"You're a good match, the two of you. I'm happy she found you, Quinn, truly. She loves you like no other. I would be happy to give you my blessing. When were you thinking of asking her?"

"I was hoping tonight before we left the city."

"Perfect! Since she was a teenager, I swear she's dreamed of a Christmas engagement," your father laughed, shaking his head over the fairy-tale moment that was being orchestrated. "This is just…wow. I'm at a loss for words!"

Dinner had been wonderful: full of laughter, embarrassing childhood stories, and new memories to be recounted years from now. Now, however, it was time to get ready to head to the airport and travel the eight hours south. Your parents had given you each a hug, and your mother both a kiss before finally letting you leave. Your waves goodbye continued until you left the driveway.

"That was nice," Quinn said, holding your hand as he drove.

"It was! Thank you for wanting to go!" You reply, turning in your seat to look at him. He always made you smile: from his brown curls, to that sly little smile he had grown accustomed to.

"I have somewhere I want to take you, before we get to the airport."

This strikes you as odd. "Are you sure we have time?"

"Oh yeah, it's fine." He brings your hand to his mouth for a kiss which makes you blush. "It will be worth it."

There was an area of the bay that was absolutely dripping in golden lights; strung from every lamppost for as far as the eye could see. With your hand still in his, the two of you began walking beneath the lighted glow of the numerous archways beside the waterway. There was a slight breeze but the temperature was mild enough and no rain. In fact, it had tried snowing a couple times that day but had ended moments later. White Christmas' were rare in Vancouver, it was just the nature of the region.

"Are you warm enough?" Quinn asked, checking in after a few minutes into the night air, he was fussing with the ring box in his coat pocket. It was like he had to reassure himself that it was still in his possession.

"Mhm, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Before waiting for your answer, Quinn let go of your hand and put his arm around your waist, pulling you in close. Your head found his shoulder, and your arms around his waist in a compromise. Still you walked, unsure just where he was taking you. You tried to stay in the moment but the looming stress about catching a late-night holiday flight was still lurking in your mind.

In the distance, there was a garden gazebo, absolutely ablaze with light. It looked so beautiful against the dark backdrop of the bay. You found your feet being steered in its direction, Quinn placing a kiss to your temple.

"Here, sit down a moment," he spoke, taking a seat beside you. "I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me this year. For being with me through all my ups and downs, the playoffs, my moods, and my injuries. You've been my everything. You've kept me grounded and my feet going forward."

You smile, letting him talk without interrupting him.

"I owe you so much. You've been with me through the celebrations and the tears and there's no one else I'd have rather had by my side but you."

You watch him smile, as he shifts his weight, and before you can react he's on one knee, the black ring box in his fingers. "There's no one else I'd rather ask: will you marry me?"

Hands cover your mouth as you gasp. Of course, you had hoped he would have one day asked for your hand, but you hadn't dreamed it would be today. A fanciful daydream, sure, but you tried not to get ahead of yourself.

"Oh, Quinny! Absolutely! Yes~"

He's grinning ear-to-ear, putting the stunning diamond on your finger. As soon as it's placed you grab his face for a kiss, the warmth of his skin soothing your cold fingers. Minutes could have passed before you two parted ways but it didn't matter. Never, in your life, could you remember being so happy.

"You'll want for nothing with me," he whispers, your foreheads touching, lost in each other's eyes.

"I never have," you reply, tears now streaming down your cheeks.

"Only happy tears, okay?" He asks, kissing each and every one of them away.

"Only happy ones."

"I love you," Quinn smiles, holding your face in his hands.

"I love you. I love you so much!"

Moments pass, just exchanging sweet little promises to each other before Quinn remembers the night isn't over yet.

"Come on, sweetheart, lets get you warmed back up. I don't want you to get chilled." Another kiss is placed on your lips, one you could tell he didn't want to end. "We've got a flight to catch."

"Quinn?" You sniffle as he stands to his feet.

"Hmm? Something wrong?"

"No, nothing. I just… thank you, for everything."

"Sweetheart, you don't need to thank me for anything. I'd give you the stars if I could reach them."

[lbxbx]

Blackmail 2 | KTH

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever.

taglist: @idkdudewhy @wisebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhoops @mother2monsters @lil0u0

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“Put more on the grill.” You whine at your friends, you’re a little greedy at this point and a little tipsy. You and your friends were at a nearby barbeque restaurant in the city having pork belly and alcohol for your last night before travelling away to London for the tour.

“You need to stop eating.” Luna slaps your hand down so you drop the tongs and your pair of chopsticks. “You’re going to get sick and we have a flight to catch tomorrow night.”

You roll your eyes and hold the tongs again and put the last piece of pork belly on the grill, your group of friends were arguing over a major heated topic that you barely could hear when you’re sitting at the end of the table. “I can’t hear you.”

“She’s talking about her night with Kook.” Luna pulls your chair closer for you to hear Sona speak. “He’s incredible and charming and romantic. I’ve never had anyone like him.”

“He doesn’t film you nor do any weird shit does he?” One of the girls asks and right away you could tell that she’s talking about Taehyung which makes you scoff, and speaking of the devil he texts you at the exact second.

9:24 | KTH:

Wyd?

9:25 | KTH:

Wanna meet up tonight?

Your fingers type back immediately.

9:25 | You:

Can’t I’m out with my friends.

As if that’s the only thing stopping you from meeting up with him.

9:25 | KTH

We’ll hang out in your place when you’re done. Deal?

You’re a little too drunk to say no, so you actually end up on leaving him on read, knowing damn well he will join you even if you refused.

You get to your place and the alcohol is now running through your system and your body feels hot to the touch, you’re drunk, but not drunk enough to pass out or anything. You just feel loose and sleepy.

You don’t recall giving him your address but when you’re about to close the door to your place, the foot that stood in the way back in Osaka is now standing in the way again, stopping you from pushing the door  further to shut it. Of course it’s him, this time you could easily recognize him with only a cap covering his head.

He doesn’t hesitate to invite himself in as he speaks. “I love your place.”

You eyes roll to the back of your head when you huff,  and you close the door after him before putting your purse and phone down. “Did I tell you it was okay to come?”

“You didn’t tell me to come over.” He looks at you confused and you nod your head. “Yeah, exactly.” And he pouts. “I was done early with the rehearsals I thought I should drop by and say hi.”

“Hi.” You fake a smile before straightening your face. “Goodbye.” And as if that’s his cue to make himself comfortable, he yanks off his shoes and lands onto your couch. “I’ll have wine please.”

“We’re flying tomorrow we can’t drink.” You didn’t think this through before you said it, he laughs and tilts his head. “Honey, I can smell the Soju from over here.”

“Damn it, alright.” You go to your kitchen and grab a bottle of wine and one single glass for him.

“I thought you threw it away.” He calls from the living room and you rush out to see him holding the box that was near your apartment door, opening it with a smirk on his face and looking through the stuff. “I’m glad you didn’t, those are actually expensive.”

“I’m not into your weird kinky shit, Taehyung.” You put the wine bottle down and sit down onto your couch. He takes the seat next to you and puts the box down onto the coffee table, rummaging through the stuff inside until he fishes out the butt plug. Or vibrator damn it.

“Have you tried one before?” He asks as he turns on the little purple device and it starts vibrating into his hand, he keeps clicking a couple times to change the pattern before turning his head towards you. “Y/N?”

“No offense, but I think toys are pathetic.” You laugh, of course he’s offended, he even scoffs and shakes his head left and right, denying the fact that you actually just said that.

And to prove you wrong, he clicks once onto the device and now it’s pulsating in a different pattern, before he presses it against your vagina through the dress you’re wearing, the sudden contact of the purple device makes your entire body stiffen right away, you’re not sure if you felt like that before, you even hold the fabric of your dress into your fists.

Taehyung seizes the opportunity and wraps an arm around your shoulder as he leans his forehead against the side of your head, inhaling your scent and watching you suffer to hide that it actually feels fantastic.

He dares to click onto the device again and the pattern changes right away making you flinch in your seat, this pattern was stronger and more frequent and  faster than the one before, your body heats up and you feel yourself clenching onto nothing in your panties. Your eyes expose you as they shut down and your head falls back against the couch, and as Taehyung’s head slips away from your face his eyes now lock onto your lips.

The lips he stared at all the time from a far are right here in front of him begging to be kissed and bitten, and he goes feral once you bite onto your lower lip trying to stop the little whimpers that are about to escape your lips.

You can’t control your body anymore, you press your thighs tighter against each other which makes the tiny stupid device press harder against your clit that’s now throbbing into your panties, you’re already soaked there and if you actually stood up you can see the damp little spot on the back of your sky blue dress.

And Taehyung can’t control himself too as he finally presses his lips against yours and kisses you, he feels himself finally getting satiated as he sucks onto them, he roams his tongue inside your mouth and you surprisingly kiss back, which again makes him seize the chance and moves the device under your dress and presses it against your panties. Your breath hitches and your head falls to the side, exposing your neck to him and he dives right in to lick all the way from your collarbone to the back of your ear.

Your body tenses and the grip onto your dress is getting tighter, your breath is quickening and your ears are starting to buzz, it feels so tight in your stomach and you know you’re about to let go. “Mmm.” Uncontrollably escapes your lips and you cover your mouth using the back of your hand. “Are you gonna cum?” His deep voice rings into your ear, his hand that’s holding the vibrator moves left and right to add friction onto your cunt, it’s too overwhelming to you and you feel yourself seconds from cumming, so you hold onto his wrist and try to stop him, your mind is telling you don’t but your body isn’t even listening, you could force him to stop but you physically can’t.

The orgasm takes over your entire body and you feel your lungs deflating, you gasp for a breath and dig your nails into his skin, your sharp breaths are driving him feral and he could go down on his knees right now and beg to fuck you. “Right there, that’s it, cum for me.”

“St.. stop.” You barely whimper, as if the alcohol wasn’t enough for your face to be flushed red and now the orgasm screws you up even more. Taehyung doesn’t even move his hand away as he sees your body shudder next to him, totally overwhelmed by the intense orgasm, your head turns towards him with your eyes half open, his glance meets yours with the dirty smirk on his face, biting onto his lower lip and switching his gaze to your lips.

And holy fuck you have no idea what went through you, your head no longer functions and you can’t comprehend anything but the fact that you’re willing to do anything he wants. The way this man stares at you made you feel like the true woman you are, it made you feel sexy.

“So a vibrator is pathetic but a makeup brush isn’t?” He steals a kiss from your lips and finally turns off the vibrator and throws it onto the couch between you two, you clear your throat and finally relax your legs still trying to catch your breath before you speak. “I’ll do it.”

Jackpot. Honestly he knew you’d agree at some point so he saw it coming, he thought it would take him more time but it happened a little sooner than he thought.

A satisfied grin lingers on his face and he finally gets up onto his feet. “Excellent, make sure you pack these in your luggage, we’ll need it.” He points his head towards the box that had the costume, you clear your throat and get up. “Can’t it happen without it?”

“Trust me, it’ll feel ten times better when you’re wearing it.” He sounds convincing as he pinches your cheek lightly. “I’ll see you in London.”

Let’s just hope you don’t regret this in the morning.

-

You spent your entire day packing because this trip was the longest, your stomach keeps constantly dropping and tickling you when you remember what you agreed on the night before, a part of you wanted to actually back away and call it off, but the largest portion of you was clearly careless since this is just a one time thing.

You grab onto the velvet ribbon and untie it to reveal what the box contains, even when the entire thing is catchy to the eye, but still the purple device is where your eyes lands first, you curiously grab onto it and twist and turn it in your hands, before pressing onto the little golden button and it turns on, you audibly gasp as if you did it by mistake, but clearly you didn’t.

Did he send every girl he slept with a vibrator or what? You scoff and turn it off before shoving it into your suitcase, along with the little piece of clothing before closing your bag and putting it near your door.

Getting to the airport has always been this chaotic, you honestly had no idea why’d they put up their schedule anyway but hey, to each their own.

Right when you get to the security and your suitcase goes in for inspection on the belt, your heart drops when the guards ask. “Ma’am, does this bag belong to you?”

A little dumbfounded and worried, but still you answer even when you’re about to choke onto your coffee. “Yeah, it’s mine.”  

“Do you have something that’s battery operated in this bag?” The security guard asks as he’s taking the bag out from the belt, his hands barely touching the zipper.

And holy fuck you know what he’s talking about and fuck you Kim Taehyung for such stupid “Gift.”

Think Y/N, you better think fast.

Worst case scenario he opens the bag and it’s right there hidden between your clothes and you’re exposed in front of the entire staff that are right behind you waiting for their luggage to be inspected, what else could happen? Of course the security guards have seen these things before and you’re probably overthinking it, it’s just a toy for crying out loud, and of course he won’t just take it out and show it to everyone, or will he?

Fuck, okay you’re nothing thinking Y/N, because your suitcase is already unzipped and the guard is inspecting through it.

What else could be battery operated? How could you even convince him when he’s seconds away from embarrassing you in front of your coworkers and supervisors. Fuck it hurts more that another guard is standing right behind him and watching your bag being inspected. You watch their faces carefully waiting for them to show a reaction. God your walk through the gate will be a walk of shame.

“It’s an electric toothbrush.” Luckily he finds your toothbrush along with your water floss which makes the guard yell, “Next.” And close your bag.

Your face has already gone pale and you broke into cold sweat at just the thought of being exposed in public, your pounding heart in your chest feels like you climbed up 10 floors running and it takes a hot minute to calm down and you promise yourself that this can’t happen again.

You’re not even entirely sure that this is worth it to begin with.

Even when the long flight there was truly exhausting, with two stops and over 16 hours flying, it was more than enough for you to rest and maybe try and forget what happened earlier, you were insanely jet lagged and your body can’t buffer anymore, you can’t comprehend anything but the fact that you desperately need a bed to lay down on like right now.

And again you promise yourself that once you get to London you’re throwing away the stupid purple device in the nearest trash bin to avoid going through what happened earlier again.

Finally you get to the hotel room and you were lucky to have a king size bed all for you, you’re almost 9 hours behind your sleeping schedule so you quickly get into the shower and dive into the bed to catch onto some sleep.

Everyone was jet lagged and exhausted, the concert was still a couple days away so everyone had time to rest and time to take a walk around the city, you made sure to get enough sleep in order to go and explore London with your friends, and as you were having fish and chips on the streets your phone buzzes a couple texts.

5:53 | KTH

Done with the rehearsals, see u at 8 in my room and put the costume on J

It doesn’t take you seconds to reply with only thumbs up and sliding your phone back into your pocket, you need to head back earlier to your room to get ready, the man has slept with so many women that you feel the need to stand out in some way.

As for him? The usual routine before hooking up with someone nothing too special, a shower and a little clean up shave before wrapping the bath towel around his waist before he walks towards his carry on.

The sound of the zipper being opened is the only sound that’s heard in the room before he digs in to take out what he needs.

A couple Go-pros, handcuffs, blindfolds, his Nikon camera and a couple massage oils, and most importantly, his belt that he slides out of his jeans that he was wearing earlier. He takes one quick scan at the room trying to figure out where to hide the cameras.

The Go-pros can easily fit behind the table lamps on each side of the bed, and one near the TV, his Nikon camera hides pretty well in the closet that he leaves it’s door slid open enough for the lens to catch everything. He puts the blindfolds and handcuffs on the bed before putting his carry on back down onto the floor.

Taehyung doesn’t even bother to bring along condoms, he’s very hygienic and he knows you’re safe too, he did have to dig deep into your medical record that’s archived in the company to figure it out, but hey safety comes first. He never believed in condoms and he’s very careful when it comes to pulling out.

He takes one quick glance at the time on his phone and it’s already 8, so he takes one last spin around the room to click the record button on all the 5 cameras he set up.

He even sets up one last Go-pro near the headboard of the bed and finally hits the last record button, before scanning the room again to make sure that they’re all well hidden. And they really are, he’s been doing this for over a year now that he got so good at hiding them.

As for you, you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror admiring the way you look, your body is reacting upon your reflection and that douche was right. It already feels great to know that you look really sexy. In the back of your mind you were questioning yourself, are you really doing this?

You grab the bathrobe and put it on before leaving your room, you look around the corridor and the hallway is completely empty since everyone is either sleeping or having a night out. You had to take the elevator up in order to get to his room and you were on your tiptoes hoping that you don’t bump into someone when you’re wearing heavy makeup and a red lipstick, oh and in a bathrobe. You think it’s really obvious that you’re meeting up with someone and it probably is.

You make your way to his room and knock on the door, and there’s no answer. You look at the time and it’s a little past 8:30. You’re not that late and you’re pretty sure he’s in his room.

He is. He’s on the other side of the door watching you through the peephole and waiting for an entire minute to unlock his door, it was his sick way of teaching you a lesson to never be late, and when he says be there at 8, it means you have to be there by 8.

“Hey.” He opens the door and tilts his head inside. “Come on in, how are you?”

You’re fuming at the fact that you had to keep knocking on his door for a good amount of time and he knows you can’t be seen, specially that in the room next to him is probably one of the boys or one of their managers.

“What took you so long?” You get inside and rush to close the door behind you, the auto lock immediately activating and you hear it clicking shut. You don’t dare to look up from the floor when you clearly see him wearing only a towel around his waist, the idea itself was intimidating to you, you’re about to have sex with the man that millions of girls love and adore, and holy fuck he’s standing right there trying so hard to draw an image of what you look like underneath that little bathrobe.

“May I?” He stands behind you, his fingers fidgeting with the rope tied around your waist, and you clear your throat and nod a hesitant “Yes.”

He loosens it around your body and pulls it off of you ever so gently, you feel his breath hitting the nape of your neck and it sends shivers down your body that you shrug your shoulders up and shiver clearly making him laugh quietly. “You’re so cute.”

That wasn’t what you were hoping to hear when you’re all dolled up in the costume he bought, his eyes pierce down your shoulders and back, slowly taking his time to look down your ass, he cannot believe his eyes that it’s right there in front of him.

Now Taehyung doesn’t usually do this, he usually cuts to the chase and immediately gets to work but with you he took his time, he knows you’re new to this, your past experiences were considered quite trash to him, so he felt the need to butter up his bread and be gentle at first, before showing you his true colors.

“Did you get the rest of the stuff?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You hand him the stupid purple device that’s been giving you nightmares, he grabs it into his hands and walks inside to sit onto the bed, man spreading his legs apart enough for you to clearly see what’s under the towel. You take a couple steps towards the bed and he grabs onto your hands before pulling you towards him to sit onto his leg. “Come here let me kiss you.”

He cups your cheeks and pulls you in to kiss you once, the second time he licks your lips and bite onto your bottom lip and gently tugging it back before kissing you, his other hand running up your thigh and his fingers tracing the suspenders you were wearing softly.

Your hands stay onto your legs when you have no idea what to do, he pulls back and wraps one arm around your waist to pull you down onto the bed and getting on top of you. “Is this good?” He whispers, making sure that so far you’re okay and you are, and you barely whisper a ‘Yes’ before he continues, he spreads your legs apart to position comfortably between them, the big clear bulge in his towel now presses against your clothed core on purpose and holy fuck he’s rock hard.

He proceeds to kiss you on the lips again and you kiss back, hardly able to focus when he keeps poking and grinding against the stupid leather piece that you wish didn’t exist. “Mmm.” Your hand runs down his chest and the other wraps around his neck, your mouths merging together into wet kisses that are slowly turning into a sloppy make out session.

The pressure against your cunt also turns into grinding, and you’re pretty sure if he doesn’t stop you’d cum in seconds as this was really arousing to you. The pressure increases against your covered entrance which makes you hold your breath and pull back from the kiss, your head falling back against the bed.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck and kisses your ear, grazing his teeth against the shell as he whispers. “I’m going to fuck you senseless Y/N, you’ve never been fucked like this believe me.”

The man knows the piece you’re wearing like the back of his hand, he knows where exactly to unbutton it and pull it off of your body, this time he’s not teasing or going slow, he’s going all in and sliding it off of your body, leaving you wearing the stockings and the suspenders that are holding them up. A satisfied smug smirk sits on his face when his eyes burn through your entire body, wondering where to start? He cannot wait to put his mouth on you.

He carries you up using one hand and throws you to sit in the middle of the bed, you gasp when you feel something cold underneath your butt and you look there to find the pair of handcuffs that he had prepared. Your stomach drops when you see that not only he had the handcuffs prepared, there was a belt and a blindfold. You saw girls wearing something similar to it in the videos he showed you. “Taehyung no.”

“Baby I wasn’t asking.” The same smirk getting bigger, he does try a little hard to persuade you into it. “It will feel ten times better trust me.”

“I can’t put those on.” You argue back which makes him laugh. “Come on Y/N, we’ll have a safe word if you want me to stop, okay?”

“A safe word?” You scoff. “I’ll tell you to stop and that’s it.” And he takes that as a yes, he doesn’t waste a second as he grabs the blindfold and wraps it around your head, tightening it a little and asking. “All good?”

“Mhm.” You hum, your body tenses the moment your eyes get covered and you get anxious when you don’t know what he’s doing or the mere idea of when or where he’s going to touch you next. “I’m right here.” He grazes the side of your shoulder with what feels like the back of his hand as if he knew that you’re worried. “Give me your hands.”

It takes you seconds to put both your palms up towards him, he puts the handcuffs around your wrists and tightens them enough for you to not be able to rotate them enough. “Fuck.” You mumble when you realize you can’t see nor touch anything around you, and honestly you would easily panic but you had no idea what went through you, you were never into kinky stuff but apparently you’re willing to do it now.

“Fuck!” You gasp again when you’re suddenly pulled so your back fully lands on the bed, your breath hitches and your chest rises faster when you feel your legs being spread open. Holy fuck you can’t see anything, you can feel his hands on the back of your thighs and you can feel his hot breaths getting closer to your inner thighs too, but you can’t see his face and you probably won’t be able to see him savoring you.

You feel the wetness and the warmth of his mouth when he licks a long trail from your entrance to your clit, then moving lower to the inner of your thigh, kissing and sucking on your skin until the color changes into a dark shade of red. “Shit.” You start fighting the handcuffs and you can hear them clicking and behind that is the sound of him chuckling. “You’re doing good baby girl.”

He proceeds to wrap his mouth around your throbbing clit and flicks his tongue against it, moving his head to add more friction as he runs his hand on the back of your thigh. You taste so good on his mouth, he doesn’t waste a drop leaking out of your cunt and he licks you clean.

Your clenched jaw finally drops when he slides two fingers inside you and curling them against your spot, your legs automatically close and he forcefully spreads them back open and starts thrusting his fingers while using his thumb to rub your clit in circular motion as he kisses your inner thighs.

His eyes spot the Go-pro that’s been sitting on the nightstand and he reaches over to grab it and film your clit being fucked with his fingers up close. “Mmm, fuck.” The sounds you make are the cherry on the top to the clip he’s filming, he comes in closer to suck onto your clit and turns the camera to show it clearly.

As for you, you now know why he uses the handcuffs and the blindfolds. The element of surprise was really arousing, it felt insanely good to not know where you’re about to be touch, you had no idea what’s coming up next when your eyes were covered, and your restricted hands basically stopped you from either touching him or touching yourself, he wants to make you feel good on his own and he didn’t need help.

Even the second you started grinding your hips against his face he used his full strength to stop you and dive into your cunt deeper than before, which made your chest heave faster, you’re so near you feel your stomach getting tighter and your pussy keeps clenching around his fingers. “I need to cum. Taehyung please, don’t stop.”

“Mmm.” He savors every seconds he gets to taste you and his eyes even shut close at how fucking tasty you are, he pulls back to spit onto your clit and dive back in, you were a drenching wet mess in seconds when you cum, your head falls back against the pillow and your sharp breaths are now louder, your legs fight the urge to shut close so they start shaking. “Holy fuck.” Even when your hands are cuffed together, you were still able to reach his hair and tug onto it tight enough to make him go insane.

It’s all caught on camera and you had no idea, Taehyung was more than satisfied on what he got so far because you look like a fucking porn star and you sound like one. He hides the camera back behind the table lamp on the night stand and climbs up to kiss you on the lips.

You wrap your legs around him and you can feel that the towel is still on him, and you’re cheeky enough to fidget the top of the towel with your fingers and slide it off which makes you earn a spank onto your ass that resonates through the walls of the hotel room. “Look at my little whore being all greedy for my cock, you wanna taste that cock that’s going to fuck you until you pass out? Hmm?” You can only hear him and he’s already breathless.

And on regular basis you would’ve fucked up his face if he called you a whore, but in bed everything is allowed, including what you hear ringing right near your ear, is it the belt you saw earlier?

“Fuck.” Your entire body is turned so you land on your face, your arms uncomfortably sit underneath you and in seconds he realizes the problem and fixes it, lifting your arms up to sit above your head. You can feel the mattress sinking when he gets out of the bed and gets onto his feet but again, you being blindfolded meant you cannot expect what’s about to happen.

Him on the other hand grabs the same Go-pro again and gets closer to your ass, spanking it with his large hand and digging his fingers into it to jiggle it. His obsession with the female body had him go insane. He moves down to your feet and films them as he’s running his hands onto them and up your calves, slowly moving up to the back of your thighs and gets closer with the camera to film your swollen pussy and perked hole from behind.

He delivers another spank to your other ass cheek this time and moves up to your back, tracing his finger up your spine to the back of your neck, moving to your hair to collect it all into his hand and lift your face up from the pillow. “Look at that beautiful face, this is where I’m gonna cum.” And he spits onto your lips before stealing a quick kiss. “I’m gonna cum inside this big mouth of yours.”

You hear the belt again which makes your stomach clench, you’re high key scared and fucking ruined at the same time, do you really want him to spank you?

“Ha! Fuck!” You yell, squeezing the pillows into your fists when he spanks you with the belt onto your ass, it’s mixed feelings really, both painful and extremely arousing. “Again, please, do it again.” And now you’re begging him to do it again?

He delivers another spank right away onto the same spot and you cannot see it, but it’s already marked onto your ass and it’s dark red. “Please Taehyung, again.” And he goes right in, this time onto your other ass cheek and it feels so fucking good, you’re startled when he helps you get onto your knees to put your ass up with your face still down onto the pillow, and this time he spanks again, hitting your cunt with the belt and making you arch your back and moan his name off of the top of your lungs.

He finally puts the Go-pro down onto the night stand and positions himself behind you, totally proud of the marks he left onto your skin. He spits onto his palm and strokes his cock before pointing the head to your entrance, slowly teasing you by trying to push it in but you were clenching repeatedly. “Relax for me, will you?”

You try and obey but you can’t, especially when he keeps rubbing against you and touching you all over your body, it’s already making you seconds away from reaching another orgasm and your stamina wasn’t that good to begin with. He tries to push into you again but you’re way too tight when you’re all clenched. He grabs you by your hair to pull you up forcefully. “Do you wanna be fucked or not?”

“Yes please.” You cry out, he pushes you back into the pillow and this time pushes inside you even when there’s resistance to begin with making you gasp and arch your back right away. Your cunt swallows him inside and you feel him stretching you with every single curve of his cock, he’s fucking you raw and you were completely okay with it because it felt insanely good.

Fuck, your body is acting up on the stretch of his head inside you, your stomach feels tight and with minimal amount of grinding against him, you cum again and relax around him. “Holy fuck did you just cum?”

He doesn’t get an answer, but you being fucked up on the bed and fighting to catch a breath is quite the answer he needed. He takes one look to your cunt and pulls back a little, you’ve already creamed on the head of his cock and drenched him. “Fuck.” He pulls his cock entirely out and slides in one finger to taste your cum, he’s cursing under his breath because this has never happened with him.

“Fucking god please.” You cry out again when he pushes back inside you, this time pushing further more of his cock , the stretch is nothing like you’ve felt before and you’re not even sure you can take him full. You’re over stimulated and you haven’t even calmed down from your previous high and he’s not planning to give you any breaks soon.

“Fuck, look at that little pussy wrapped around my cock, it feels so good to fuck you Y/N.” He grits onto his own teeth, he pulls back and pushes back in making you arch your back again, he takes up his pace and in seconds you feel yourself chasing another orgasm, and the only way you can announce that you’re about to cum is using your mouth and you’re already choking up on words, so you slam your fists against the pillow repeatedly, which makes him move inside you even faster and fuck you’re cumming again.

It feels so good but holy shit it burns, you cry out his name with your tears that are absorbed by the stupid blindfold you have on, you sob out his name repeatedly and he can feel it, especially with your cunt constantly tightening around him and driving him crazy.

Your body no longer functions and your limbs start shaking, your lower body collapses onto the bed and his cock slides out of you, your legs shut tight to ease down your sore pussy and you’re still crying. “Give me a minute.”

“Shh, you’re okay.” He gets up onto his feet and pours you a cup of water, he sits near your head and helps you sit up to take the blindfold off. You squint your eyes at the sudden exposure of the lights and lift your hand up to try and grab the cup of water but your limbs are shaking nonstop. “You’re okay, it’s okay.” He helps you take a couple sips of water before putting the cup down. “Better?”

You barely nod your head, he inches closer to kiss you on the lips and neck, moving down to your chest and kneading it into his hand. “Lay down.” And you lay your back down on the bed, he adjusts you to dangle your head on the edge of the bed and gets up onto his feet, his enormous cock sitting in his hand while he’s stroking it.

He takes a step closer to your face and brushes the head of his cock against the side of your face and lips before pointing the tip to your mouth and with no words needed you open your mouth and it hurts your jaw when you try and take him into your mouth, the size on this man is incredible and you haven’t seen anyone this big before. “Good girl, let me fuck that beautiful face of yours.” And with no hesitation he thrusts his hips against your face forcing more of his cock inside your mouth.

Your gag reflex was something you weren’t so proud of, just as the tip of his dick reaches the back of your tongue you audibly gag right away and pull your head back. “It’s okay, you can do it.”

He forces his cock inside your mouth again this time the head hitting a spot deeper inside your mouth making you gag again and panic to catch a breath. “Taehyung—“

“It’s alright, don’t move.” He grabs onto your hair and pounds right into your mouth, the head now hitting your tonsils and down your throat, you start kicking your legs onto the bed and trying hard to pull back, but he’s got a good grip of your hair and he doesn’t stop and can’t stop. It feels so good to fuck your mouth and watching you struggle to breathe is arousing him even more. “That’s it, you’re such a good girl.” He breathlessly pants and pushes in one last time and holds inside, your face is already turning red and your tears are streaming down your face. You keep coughing against his cock but he doesn’t pull out, he delivers a slap to your cheek and pulls back. Your lungs inflate with oxygen again as you’re gasping for a breath and coughing.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good.” He leans forward to kiss you on the lips before climbing back onto the bed and turning you on your hands and knees again, positioning himself behind you and rubbing the head of his swollen angry cock against your clit and entrance. “I wonder what it feels like inside your ass.”

Your body stiffens again when you know you’re still not ready, your swollen cunt was still sore and hurting, your hands are still cuffed to each other so you won’t be able to support your upper half if you cover up yourself, “Taehyung wait—“ You panic when you feel the head of his cock pointing towards your hole, rubbing against it and wetting it with his own spit, he doesn’t give you time to object as he already tries to push in inside you, the tightness is killing him and his eyes roll to the back of his head when your hole tightens around his shaft.

As for you, you could swear you feel him in your back, it fucking hurts so good. Your back arches and you don’t realize it yet, but you’ve been holding your breath the entire time. “Holy fucking shit Y/N where have you been.” He whimpers, reaching for the massage oil to squirt some onto your ass, he gets really impatient and unscrews the lid before dumping the entire bottle on your whole body and throwing the bottle away across the room. “Don’t move.” Your voice so low, tears are accumulating in your eyes again at the insanely good burn, and with every grunt you let out, your hole keeps clenching around him in a stroke like motion which makes him grab the belt and wrap it around your neck to pull you in closer.

 “Fuck-“ You gasp when he wraps the belt tighter around your neck, the closeness already pushing more of his cock inside you making you scream his name and throw your head back against him. He seizes the chance and bites the shell of your ear while whispering. “I’m going to fucking ruin you Y/N, no one will make you cum the way I can.”

You’re totally fucked you can’t form a sentence, only whimpers and grunts escaping your lips along with sharp breaths, your hard nipples grab his attention and he doesn’t think again before delivering a slap to your tits making you sob out his name, you’re fighting against the cuffs again when you feel them getting on your nerves, you have to use your hands, you need to pull onto something or touch him, your nails are already digging into the inside of your palm hard enough that you’re bleeding making it burn when it mixes with sweat.

You completely lose it when the purple device enters your vagina still turned off, you look at him over your shoulders in utter disbelief, you’re already over stimulated enough without the stupid vibrator. “Taehyung please—“ At this point you’re begging for him to stop, but he doesn’t. He presses onto the stupid golden button twice, knowing exactly what pattern to choose to drive you both insane, “Please, please..” Your eyes meets his, he’s more than satisfied when he looks at your face, all glowing and flushed red, tears are already messing your makeup and your lipstick is smudged. “Cum for me.”

It’s physically impossible for you to cum right now, but he insists on making you cum for the fourth or fifth time tonight, so he pushes the rest of his cock into your ass and starts jerking his hips up against yours, the sounds of your skin meeting fills the room, his thighs and hips meeting your ass cheeks and slapping them with each thrust, and before you know it you feel your orgasm approaching which makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t stop.” You want to reach your end now and you find yourself grinding your hips against his, he pushes you down to land back on your cuffed hands. “Fuck yourself, come on.” He delivers a spank to your ass, finally halting his thrusts, and it takes you a moment to gather some strength and start pounding against him.

Holy fuck this is like a dream coming true to him, he even laughs and keeps spanking onto your ass. “That’s it, keep going.” He throws his head back and clicks again to change the pattern on the vibrator, this pattern is strong enough even when it’s inside your pussy, he could feel it through your walls and it sends vibrations through to his dick. “Keep going.” He grabs the belt and spanks your ass again making you jump in your place and tug onto the bed sheets, crying even louder when you feel yourself seconds away from letting go, the overwhelming pleasure controls your body and you can no longer move against him, you collapse on the bed and fight against the cuffs again.

He loses his patience and holds your hips into his hand to stay inside you as he leaves the bed to get into his feet, he uses both his hands to spread your ass cheeks apart before pounding into it again, this time furiously and not stopping whatsoever, your walls clench around the vibrator once more and you push onto your own core when you finally release your orgasm, your squirt gushing against his cock and thighs making him call out your name. “There you go, good fucking girl.” He rubs your clit and keeps fucking you through your orgasm. “Fucking god, please Taehyung, please..” You gasp for a breath and your walls clenching pushes the vibrator out of you, finally.

He couldn’t fight the impulsive thought of pulling out of you and going down on you, licking every single drop that fell out of your cunt down your thighs, savoring every drop that sits onto his tongue and swallowing it, before sitting back up and pushing back into your ass making you whimper when you feel yourself stuffed to the brim. And he pounds right back into you until you feel his breath quickening and his grip tightening on both your ass cheeks. “Come here.” He pulls out and grabs you by your wrist to get down on your knees to the floor, he grabs the keys from the nightstand and finally takes the cuffs off of your wrists. “Hold your tits out for me and open your mouth.” And your fucked up and fogged brain can’t process anything he said until he man handles you and forcefully makes you obey what he said, sticking his fingers down your throat while he gives his cock the last couple strokes.

You throw your head back and fight the urge to close your eyes when you’re gagging just to look at him and watch him cum right before your eyes, he shoots the first white ribbon onto your face and his balls keep clenching while he’s shooting out the rest of his cum, some end up falling on your chest and the rest goes down your mouth and throat.

And it tastes fucking horrendous.

He looks down at you with his hair all frizzy and all over his face, with sweat dripping down his forehead and even the tip of nose, down to his neck and chest. “Swallow.”

And with his cum still in your mouth you shake your head, you need to spit it out quickly because you can’t handle the taste. People must be lying when they mentioned that it tasted good but that’s total bullshit. “I said swallow.”

You’re about to reject again but he forces your mouth shut and covers it with his hand. “Swallow Y/N.”

And you were forced to swallow even when you’re clearly gagging in front of him. “Good girl.” He grabs his towel from earlier and pats his face dry. “You can go back to your place.” And just like that he enters the bathroom and you hear his shower water running leaving you on his bedroom floor.

You crawl around the room looking for your bathrobe and struggle to put it on, before gathering enough strength to get up onto your feet and leave the room, luckily it’s still late so you won’t be seen around the hotel, and just when the elevator door closes you could swear you heard Hoseok shout. “Hold it.” From a distance, but of course you wouldn’t let him see you like this.

You click the key card to your hotel room and close the door shut behind you, rushing to the toilet and throwing up what you swallowed earlier. You were pretty sure it wasn’t staying in there.

-

You had to get room services twice so they can keep you nourished with soup and warm liquids, and 3 tabs of painkillers and couple hot showers away, you were able to go to work today but you had to walk slowly and get up slowly.

“Good morning.” Taehyung and Jungkook walk into the room with wide smiles on their face, Taehyung putting his phone back into his pocket before throwing his top off and taking his seat onto your station.

“Good morning.” The girls on the station next to you answer them both and you just get to work, nothing personal really, but your tonsils were killing you from what happened the night before.

“Good morning.” Taehyung repeats, looking at your reflection in the mirror and curving his lips up into a little smile, you mirror his smile and nod your head. “Morning.”

“She’s not feeling well today.” Your friend Leah elaborates while she’s working on Jungkook’s face. “Oh no what happened?” Jungkook snaps his head towards you, Taehyung of course knows why so he doesn’t ask.

“The weather got her and she’s having a sore throat.” She adjusts Jungkook’s face and proceeds to work, “I’m alright, she’s just exaggerating.” You force a smile and start dabbing some primer onto Taehyung’s face, while you’re too focused on your job he clears his throat and whispers. “You alright?”

“Mhm.” A simple answer that was more than enough. “If you need anything I’ll be glad to help.” He glances at your face, at this point he’s just feigning this caring personality just to get you to do it again with him when you two are back home. He regrets his promise that this is going to be only one time.

“And by the way, you forgot your uhm.. device, in my room last night.”

“Goodness, please keep it.” You argue right away before laughing. “I don’t think I need it anymore, and I don’t think carrying it around in my suitcase back to Seoul is a brilliant idea.”

He chuckles and leans his head back, “What do you think about last night?” And you nudge him when you feel Jungkook’s eyes on you, he absolutely heard him and now the two of them are waiting for your answer.

“The flight? It was exhausting.” You laugh awkwardly, clearing your throat and turning away to grab the rest of the makeup brushes.

But what you don’t see, is Taehyung smirking at Jungkook and winking him, making the younger nod and give him a thumbs up while mouthing him. “Good choice.”

Last night right after he was done with his shower, he looked around the room knowing it’s empty since he heard the door locking when he went in earlier. He takes a spin around the room to turn off all the Go-pros  and collect them along with his Nikon camera, he calls room service and they’re up in seconds to clean around the room like it was never touched, of course making sure to hide suspicious things before any of the staff enters.

He takes a seat around the little coffee table near the window and turns on his iPad to download the videos of the several different angles he filmed. And of course this isn’t his first time doing it, a quick touch to the movie maker with his apple pencil before he edits the clips, cuts some and mixes some, to produce your own sex tape.

He clicks his tongue at his own dick that’s sitting in his boxers when it low key twitches at the sight of the movie, he can easily cum again if he wanted to, but now is not the time. The tape is around 38 minutes even after cutting some clips, and holy fuck he could watch it again and again.

And on their way to the stadium this morning, him and Jungkook started sharing their experience the night before, Jungkook mentioned something about sleeping with two locals from London, and Taehyung of course had to share his own experience and explicitly mentions you.

“So did you get it on tape?” Jungkook asks and Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Of course I did, I have it on my phone you wanna check it out?”

“I don’t mind.” It was 10 in the morning but the younger didn’t mind watching a sex tape in a car that had staff in it, Taehyung unlocks his phone and dims the brightness before handing it to Jungkook along with one of the airpods.

Jungkook hasn’t seen anything as animalistic as this, of course he did see other tapes before that are made by Taehyung too, but you weren’t like any of them. The sounds you made, your body, your crying and your whimpers. “She can squirt?” Jungkook’s doe eyes pierce through the phone.

“Hey, I made her squirt.” Taehyung of course takes credit for that. He lost count of the women he slept with, but none of them squirted, none of them gave Taehyung a boost of ego like you did. “How many times did she cum?”

“I don’t know, probably four, five? I lost count.” Taehyung carelessly shrugs. “It was insane.”

“That’s incredible.” Jungkook skips the video for his own sake, totally not the time to have an erection and it’s still too early in the morning. “Do you think I can get her to do anything with me?”

“She gets weird about me telling anyone about it, but I don’t know you can try.” Taehyung grabs his phone from Jungkook and locks it.

And as they both got into the stadium and Jungkook sets his eyes on you, he looks at you differently now, wishing he would spend a night with you and secretly thinking about offering you money to do it.

“Good choice.” He mouths Taehyung and throws his head back to finish his makeup.

The moment Jungkook looks at you, Taehyung asks you again. “But no really, what do you think about last night?”

You take one last glance at Jungkook who’s attention is finally averted off of you before you answer. “Not bad.” Taehyung knows you’re teasing, so he laughs and nods. “I’m glad you think so. But you clearly have a limb from all the pounding, and your throat is clearly swollen from all the face fucking.”

“Shh.” You hit his shoulder. “Someone could actually hear us.”

“Alright. But hey, you have to have your device back, I’ll carry it in my luggage if you want to and I’ll hand it back to you when we’re home.” And you totally don’t mind, as long as you avoid any possible chances of embarrassment in public.

[pomefioredove]

Hii! Can I request for Jamil where his s/o helps him with cleaning dishes after Kalim made another big party? My boy needs some support</3

SO I didn't read the s/o part until after I'd finished but you can imagine that I think? Jamil is reseved and wary enough for it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a white lie

type of post: fic characters: jamil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, not proofread

Suffice to say that Jamil had not enjoyed the party.

If he ever enjoys Kalim's parties is another question, but there were a few things that made this one particularly insufferable:

#1 Jamil had explicitly told Kalim not to have this party, since he had failed his last alchemy lab and needed to study before the retake #2 Kalim had agreed to not have this party and Jamil was already in bed when Kalim threw his door open to announce the party was back on #3 unprepared for this party that Kalim was not going to have, Jamil had run across campus in the cold to pick up food from Sam's before it closed #4 on the way back, one of those weird nocturnal bugs scuttered across the path in front of him

...And so now, at half past one in the morning, with all of the confetti vacuumed and glitter still stuck to his skin, Jamil was washing dishes.

He's fantasizing about the sad look on Kalim's face when he would inevitably fail the alchemy lab on Monday. Again.

Just a little something to keep him awake.

A squeak of the door. Jamil tenses, praying to any god that would listen, that that is not Kalim, come to ask for milk and cookies.

"You're still up?"

Your soft voice releases some of the tension in his shoulders.

Jamil sighs. "Yes. Is it late?"

He asks that as if he doesn't know. Better to play dumb than to look pitiful. He doesn't need your sympathy, after all.

"Yeah," you say, letting the door squeak shut behind you. "Why're you still here?"

He shrugs. "I don't know the time. I suppose I lost track,"

Which is a little white lie. He's been counting every minute.

Without asking, which is so insufferably like you, you stand beside him at the sink and begin washing dishes.

"You don't need to do that," Jamil says. "I'm almost done."

Which is another white lie. There's still dishes in the lounge he hasn't even collected yet.

"Then you'll be done faster,"

An almost intolerable act of kindness, but with that knowing look in your eye. He hates that you can tell when he's lying.

"...Very well," At least you're competent.

He knows you won't break anything. And you might even wash something, too. Much different from Kalim.

"...Did you enjoy the party?" he asks.

"I didn't go,"

"Didn't you?"

You respond to everything he says with this calm, soft voice, so unassuming, so innocent, but the way you look at him says something much different.

"I didn't," you repeat. "I didn't want to."

Jamil almost smiles. "So, then, may I ask what you're doing here? You surely didn't just decide to take a stroll through Scarabia at one-forty in the morning,"

"You know the time, now?"

Damn it. How do you manage to get him so tongue-tied???

Jamil steps away from the sink and dries off his hands just to put them on his hips.

"What do you want?"

"I want to help,"

And there's that cuteness again. You must have an angle here, something you need from him, but what could he possibly have to give?

He scoffs. "Surely, you'd have better results sucking up to Kalim. Or perhaps Azul. Or anyone but me,"

Your hands never stop working, shining each dish with a gentle efficiency he almost admires.

"But I want to suck up to you,"

Jamil crosses his arms and glares. It's frustrating just how good you are at this. Playing cute. You already have everyone on campus wrapped around your finger, don't you? The housewardens, the vice housewardens, the princes, the celebrities.

What would you want out of him? What good would being in his favor do you?

"What exactly are you implying?"

You look back into the murky depths of the sink. "I like you,"

"You like me?" As if he'd believe that.

But Jamil can't deny how honest you had sounded. And from what he knew, you hardly went around saying such things in such ways. Even to your friends.

"Why?"

You hesitate. As if you genuinely don't have an answer for that. An answer he'd like to hear, anyway.

"Because... you're like me, I suppose,"

Jamil's eyes widen. A lot of feelings suddenly go through him in hot flashes- shock, anger, resentment, jealousy- but mostly...

Confusion.

You continue. "Not in a literal sense. Just that... well, you know. No one helps me, either. They look to me for support and I'm expected to just... coddle them. I can't ever be upset or angry or resentful,"

He has no response. That's...

...Not untrue.

Jamil says nothing, letting the silence be broken only by his own loud, restless, thoughts, and then he slowly returns to the sink.

He takes each plate and glass from you with trained silence, rinsing each before setting them to dry.

And he looks only at the water. He doesn't want you to see how his expression has softened.

When you're done with everything, lounge and all, he walks you to the door.

"You're fine walking home on your own?"

You nod. Jamil isn't exactly sure why he asked that, but it felt like the right thing to say.

You both linger at the door. Looking at each other. Saying nothing.

"Thank you," he finally says. "For your help. It... meant a lot to me. I probably wouldn't have finished before sunrise without you."

Again, he's not sure why he said that. It felt right. It felt good to be good to you, he supposes. And his intentions were honest, even if his words were not. He certainly wouldn't have taken that long on his own.

But a white lie has never hurt anyone.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 1

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Not proofread.

"Can I touch your cock?"

"What?" He chokes on his drink, some of it even coming out of his nose, and you pull a disgusted face. Really? Is this the guy you like? You need higher standards. 

Still, you like him, drink squirting and all. You shrug, looking down at your own drink and fiddling with it nervously. "Just wanna know what a cock feels like. It’s no big deal." You bluff, hiding behind your inexperience that he knows about all too well.

Beomgyu is quiet for a while, and you start manifesting for the couch you’re sitting on to devour you whole. But finally he speaks up.

"Okay.” He says, and your head snaps up to look at him in disbelief. “If I can touch your pussy too."

You sneer at him as if you hadn’t literally asked him the same thing. "What? No. Pervert!"

"But you just--"

"Forget it." Truth is you were self-conscious about what he’d think if he saw your body. You didn't look like those onlyfans girls you’ve caught him watching many times. What if he finds your pussy weird-looking? God, you would never live that down. 

"No, wait, okay, okay." He quickly backtracks, dropping his demand. His eagerness would be laughable if you weren’t just as eager yourself. “You can touch me.” 

“Woah, what are you doing?” You cover your eyes with your hands when you see him pull down on his pants. 

“Taking my cock out? You know, so you can touch me?” 

“Not so fast, idiot. Let’s take it slow.” 

He gives you a dumb look. “Slow how? Like kissing?” 

Your cheeks flush at the thought, having imagined exactly that too many times, just Beomgyu pulling you into a heated kiss and maybe confessing his undying love for you, and how he’s only been acting so clueless and stupid to hide his true feelings for you…

No, you definitely should not be kissing. 

“Forget it. Pull down your pants.” You tell him and he happily obliges, his cock springing out of his pants and smacking against his hoodie, leaving a tiny wet stain on it. 

“Well, don’t just stare at it.” He whines when you take too long to make a move, grabbing your hand and moving it to wrap around his cock, moaning out at his own movements. 

“Wow, it’s so soft.” You marvel as he moves your hand up and down his shaft, his skin gliding smoothly under your palm. 

"Mmm hmmm." He hums and you look up to see him staring straight at you. 

"Stop staring at me, you freak." You blush, feeling scrutinized. This was already so nerve-racking for you, you didn’t need him watching you like that. 

“Come on, jerk me off properly. I’m doing all the work here.” He whines, pressing down on your hand to make you grab him tighter. 

You roll your eyes. He’s such a brat. “Fine.” You smack his hand off and hold him firmly in your grip, trying to imitate the movements of your favorite internet dom and how she gets her sub to go crazy for her. And Beomgyu would be such a cute sub, and he’d make such pretty noises that you definitely didn’t spend your nights fantasizing about with your hand down your pants. 

But he’s exceeding even your filthiest fantasies with the moans he’s letting out. He’s so loud and whiny, it’s going straight to your pussy and drenching your underwear.  

In an effort to still come out the one in control, you tease him. “How are you so hard already?”

But it’s not effective on Beomgyu. Not when he never had any sense of shame to begin with. “Of course, I’m hard. You’re jerking me off. I’ve been dreaming about this since I was thirteen.” 

“You have?” Your pace falters. Is this it? Is this how he confesses to you? Sure, it’s not the most romantic setting but you’ll take it. 

“Of course. You know I’ve been trying to get any kind of action for years. Thank you so much. You’re the best.” He babbles, throwing his head back and thrusting up in your hand. You’re glad he did that so he wouldn’t see the absolutely heartbroken look on your face. You’re so stupid. He just wanted someone to touch his crusty dick. 

Okay, that’s a lie. He actually has a really pretty dick which is so unfair. You wish it was veiny and gross and standing weird. Maybe then you would’ve gotten over your apparently hopeless crush on him. 

"Fuck, you’re really touching my cock." He whimpers, staring at the way his cock is thrusting into your hand, too lost in the pleasure of it to notice your sour mood. “It feels so good.”

“I know. I can see the way you’ve gone all brain-dead just from a few strokes. I don’t even have to do much when you’re practically humping my hand. Are you that desperate?” You talk down to him, needing to release your bitterness somehow, but it only spurs Beomgyu on further. 

He nods, jaw hanging open and a little drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth as he stares at you, heavy-lidded. “God, you’re so dirty and mean. I didn’t even know I’m into that.” He groans. 

No, what he’s into is cute, feminine girls dressed in skimpy little sundresses whimpering and crying as they get railed by big cocks. It’s why you’ve tried dressing all girly before he pointed out the change in your style and made fun of you for it. You know he didn’t mean it maliciously. It’s just what best friends do, make fun of each other over the stupidest things. But it sure guaranteed you’d never dress like that again. 

"Can I cum?" 

"Oh, you’re asking permission?" You laugh, happy to at least be having an effect on the man you're in love with, even if it’s just because he’s a desperate perv. "Guess whenever I need to put you in line I should just put my hand down your pants."

"Yes, please." 

You giggle. Well if you can’t have him, at least you’ll have this. 

“You can cum, gyu.” 

“Oh, thank you. Thank you!” He moans, and you point his cock towards his hoodie so he’d cum all over it. Just a little petty revenge on him. Not that he even cares, if the dopey smile on his face is any indication. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’ve said that already, idiot.” You wipe your hand on his hoodie, soiling it further. 

“I mean it.”He sits up from his slumped position and grabs your hand as you pull it away. “Let me make it up to you. Let me eat you out.” 

You frown at him and yank your hand away. “You just wanna know what pussy tastes like.” 

“So? It’s a win-win.” He scrambles to the ground and slots himself between your legs, resting his head on your thighs and peering up at you cutely. “Please.” 

You feel one of his thumb swipe under the leg of your shorts and you kick him away. “No!”

But he grabs your leg and whines. “Why?”

“I’m saving it for someone I love.” You admit shyly and he has the audacity to retort, “You know I love you.” 

“I know.” You sigh, “But not that way… right?” 

“Right.” He admits, finally letting you go and you just want to crawl into yourself and cease to exist. It all hurts too bad. You don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself when he clearly will never feel the same way about you. You really should forget all about this. It’s a mistake. A moment of weakness. That’s all it is.

_______________________________

But you can’t hold on to your convictions when he’s drooling over her like that. 

“Seriously, Beomgyu, we’re in the middle of studying.” 

He snaps his open mouth shut. “What? I’m not doing anything.” He says defensively and you roll your eyes, reaching up to swipe the drool off the corner of his lips. 

“You’re staring at her as if you wanna take her right here inside the library.” You retort, hiding the pain from your voice well.

“So what if I do? She’s so sexy. I could just rip that tight, pink dress off her body. It’s barely even covering it. I can practically see her–oh!” His horny tirade cuts off into a gasp as you grab him through his pants. 

“What are you doing?” He looks at you, panicked, but his hips still buck up into your hand. He’s such a horndog. 

“Keeping you from jumping her in the middle of a public place.” You sneer, though in reality you just can’t bear him talking about her any longer. 

“What about you jerking me off in the middle of a public place?” He counters back and you flush at being called out, moving to pull your hand away but he stops you, his large hand encompassing yours and pressing it against his bulge just like he did that first time. 

“Did I mention that I’m totally fine with that?” He asks and you let out a sigh of relief. You can’t handle being rejected by him now. This is the only thing you have going for you–that you’re the only girl getting him off. If he doesn’t want it anymore then you’ve got nothing. 

Luckily though, getting his dick touched is still very effective at getting him to stop obsessing over her and just focus on you. 

“Go faster.” He prompts, but you don’t give him what he wants that easily. You gotta make him work for it so you don’t feel like you’re that easy. 

“I will if you can answer this question.” You point to the next question in the quiz you were solving and he groans. “Who cares? Just need you.” He whines, knowing how weak you are for his puppy dog eyes, but unbeknownst to him, you’re too wounded by his flagrant drooling over another woman for this to work now. 

“I care. So either you be good and answer or you don’t get to cum today.” 

“You’re so cruel.” He whines, but casts his eyes to the paper, making an effort to figure out the answer, his brows furrowing and his lips pulling in a pout as his pretty brain works overtime to answer the question you wanted. 

God, he’s so pretty. And you’re so screwed. 

____________________________

“Look, baby, look what I got!” Beomgyu yells, shoving a piece of paper into your face enthusiastically. The writing is swimming in front of your eyes and you’re finding it so hard to focus when he is calling you that–baby–something he’d gotten into the habit of saying since you began messing with him. 

Luckily, he’s kind enough to tell you what you’re looking at. “I got an A! I never thought I’d get an A in my life, and it’s all thanks to you!” He squeals, gathering you into his arms and smothering you with a passionate kiss that you’re too weak to resist, getting lost in his soft lips. His soft, sweet lips that you’ve been dreaming about for years–his pouty, full lips that you’ve had to hold yourself back from kissing every time he’d pout–his perfect lips that you promised yourself you’d never kiss because you knew it would be game over for you. 

Dam it, Beomgyu!

You shove him away. “I said no kissing!” You bark and he cowers like a scolded dog. “But I did so well. Thought I deserved a reward, and you’re just so kissable.” He tries to get another kiss but you’re prepared for him now. 

“Don’t say things like that.” You hiss way too sharply and he winces. “Why not?”

“I don’t like it.” You tell him and he frowns. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

He scoffs. “I know that.” 

“We’re just fuck buddies.” 

“Not even that.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you don’t even let me fuck you. How can we be fuck buddies if you’re freaking out over me just kissing you? You’re treating me like a glorified dildo. Why can’t I touch you too?” 

You can’t answer that truthfully or you’ll ruin everything, so you deflect. “If you don’t like it then we can stop. I don’t need this. I can easily find another guy to play with. One who wouldn’t whine about getting free handjobs.” 

He gives you a betrayed look, but quickly collects himself. “Fine. You do that. I don’t care.” 

“Fine.” 

“Fine!” He huffs, storming off and leaving his graded paper behind. You grab it, your chest filling with a sense of pride you can’t keep at bay. You did this. You helped him get an A. And he was so happy about it too. He was so happy he kissed you. It was everything you wanted, which is exactly why you had to stop it. 

Yes, it hurts now, but it would’ve hurt a million times more if you let yourself get carried away with it. It’s better to stop it now before it’s too late for you. 

_____________________________

A/N: whoever has ideas for future scenes let me know, preferably non-smut scenes because at this point the story is entirely smut lmao