#it’s the only way for her to be free and it’s the only way for nico to let go

[cloudtransprncy]

Dumb.

Kim Chaewon x Male Reader | 4k words Tags: cheating, High School AU, light bratty elements, backshots, reckless decisions, tension, guilty pleasure

Cutting class to get a break? Nah. Cutting class to fuck your girlfriends best friend? Yesssssir

Is this dumb?

Skipping class just to fuck your girlfriend’s best friend?

Yes.

But her bed’s soft, your hands are on her hips—so whatever.

Her room is exactly what you’d expect.

All-white sheets, soft and cool beneath your knees, a cream-colored fuzzy blanket pushed to the side. Squishmallows stacked against the headboard, half-toppled over from how she moves. A BTS poster on the wall, vinyls of SZA’s Ctrl and Keshi’s Gabriel mounted near her mirror. A Polaroid collage—blurry concert pictures, and old selfies.

Her dresser is cluttered with skincare products and perfumes. lip masks, toners, a bottle of perfume that lingers in the air—sweet, dark, like vanilla; Her.

A barely-burned Bath & Body Works candle sits untouched, more for aesthetic than actual use. Her makeup is scattered—an open lip gloss, an eyelash curler left out.

On the floor near the bed—Nike slides and a half-finished Starbucks cup. A hoodie tossed lazily on her chair, yours.

Chaewon’s face is buried in her sheets, her messy bun barely hanging on, strands of her blonde dyed hair slipping free. She’s already arching, already gasping, and your fingers dig deeper into her waist, holding her in place as you push your cock into her, her slick folds gripping you, pulling you in. The wet sounds of it mix with the slap of skin against skin, obscene and unrelenting, drowned out only by the breathy little moans she’s trying to muffle into her pillow.

Her back is warm under your hands, skin damp with sweat, a thin sheen catching the dim light. The scent of her perfume emanates from her, the mix of candy-sweet vanilla and something heavier, musky, intoxicating.

Her white tank top is so tight it clings to her body, but the straps won’t stay on her shoulders. You keep pushing it up her back, exposing more of her skin, needing to see more, needing to feel more. Your eyes trace the swell of her hips, the way her body shudders under your grip.

Aggressive. Hungry.

She shudders when you tighten your grip, fingers splayed over her waist, thumbs pressing into dip in her back. Her nails drag against the sheets, hips shifting, trying to match your pace, but you don’t let her. You set the rhythm. She follows. That’s how this works.

Her breath hitches. She feels so fucking good, squeezing around you like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Like she wants to make this harder for you.

Then, your phone lights up.

It’s somewhere on the bed, half-buried in the blankets, screen flashing. You don’t need to look to know who it is.

Eunbi.

Your girlfriend.

Chaewon’s best friend.

She’s not freaking out. She doesn’t know you’re not in school right now. Doesn’t know you’re giving her best friend backshots.

Just a casual text. Maybe asking if you want to meet up for lunch, or something dumb like whether you saw that TikTok she sent last night. Either way, you don’t want to see it.

You flip the phone over, face-down against the sheets. You shouldn’t be here. You should be in class. Or with Eunbi. But Chaewon’s ass is pressing back against you, and that thought doesn’t last long.

Chaewon shifts beneath you, glancing back over her shoulder, breathless, smirking. “You’re just gonna ignore her like that?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you press a hand to the back of her head and push her face down into the bed again.

She moans, muffled, but you hear the smile in it. She’s still teasing, even now.

“Bet she’d cry if she saw you like this.”

That does something to you. Something dark. You grip her harder, fuck her rougher, and whatever smugness she had vanishes.

Chaewon whimpers, her nails clutching at the sheets, legs shaking. She’s trying to keep up, trying to match your pace, but she’s falling apart beneath you. Freaky as she is, she’s never been fucked like this.

She gasps out something—your name, a curse, maybe both—but it breaks off into a moan, and you know you’ve won.

Eunbi’s nice. Beautiful. Hot. She gives good head. She’s the kind of girl you’re supposed to be loyal to.

But Chaewon? Chaewon is freakier, tighter, and knows exactly how to get under your skin.

Eunbi sends cute texts with heart emojis. Chaewon sends risky selfies when she knows her best friend is in the room.

Eunbi kisses you soft and slow. Chaewon drags her nails down your back and bites your lip until it stings.

Eunbi’s the girl you bring home. The girl who trusts you. Who texts you in the morning and kisses you goodbye at school. But Chaewon’s the girl you ruin yourself over.

Chaewon is still smirking, still playing her little game, rolling her hips back against you just to see how far she can push. Testing you. "You're holding back..." she breathes, her voice shaky between gasps, like she’s daring you through the pleasure.

Your jaw clenches. She always does this. Always wants to see how much she can get away with before you snap.

The only answer you give is a sharp thrust, knocking her forward onto the sheets, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. She gasps, fingers digging into the mattress, but when she turns her head to look at you, that smirk is still there, teasing, taunting. Like she hasn’t learned her lesson yet.

"Fuck, slow down—" she starts, but you don’t. If she wanted to play, she should’ve known she’d lose.

Your fingers tighten around her hips, dragging her back onto you as you set the pace, unrelenting, deep, watching the way she trembles under your touch. Her smug attitude is gone, replaced with gasping breaths, half-bitten-off moans she’s trying—and failing—to swallow.

She’s squeezing you so fucking tight. Too tight to think about anything else, too tight to think about why you’re here, about who keeps blowing up your phone from the other side of the bed.

Your phone vibrates against the sheets. Again. And again.

Chaewon notices, of course she does. She lets out this breathless little laugh, barely turning her head, voice syrupy and taunting. "Does she even make you feel this good?"

You don’t answer. You push her face into the mattress instead.

She moans, muffled, but you can hear the amusement in it, the way she’s still enjoying this too much.

If she wants it rough, she’s going to get it.

Your hand slides up, fingers wrapping lightly around her throat as you lean down, voice low in her ear. "Take it, take that dick"

She doesn’t answer. Just licks her lips, breath hitching, and pushes her hips back against you again.

That’s all you need.

Your grip tightens, forcing her still, making sure she takes it. She chokes out a gasp, her whole body shuddering as you fuck her deeper, harder, until her teasing completely breaks apart.

At this angle, with your weight pressing her down, you can feel everything—every slick, desperate clench around your length, the obscene wetness that spreads between you each time you push back in. It’s suffocating, consuming, a vice of heat wrapped around you, pulling you deeper into something you shouldn't want this badly.

Her hand reaches back, grabbing blindly for anything to hold onto—your wrist, your thigh—until she finds your arm. She grips it hard, nails dragging over your skin, feeling the way your muscles flex under her fingers. Feeling you as she feels you inside.

Your phone vibrates again. Neither of you look at it.

Chaewon’s breathless now, moaning into the sheets, a mess beneath you, every ounce of her earlier cockiness gone.

If you were a better person, you wouldn’t be here.

But you’re not.

A noise outside the room—soft, but distinct. A floorboard creaking? Wind against the window? Your body tenses, every muscle tight, your breath catching mid-thrust.

Chaewon hears it too. Feels you hesitate.

And then she laughs. Breathless, airy, like this is the funniest thing that’s happened all day.

""Aww, scared someone’s gonna catch you balls deep in me?"" Her voice is teasing, dripping with amusement, even as her legs tremble beneath you.

Your fingers flex around her throat in retaliation, squeezing just enough to make her gasp. She barely has a second to process it before you slam her down, your grip unrelenting, then flip her onto her back so fast she barely has time to catch her breath, her blonde hair slipping free, messy and wild against the sheets.

Your cock slips free in the motion, and you grab it tight, feeling the obscene slickness coating your length, dripping from her. It's wet—wet as fuck—before you slap it against her swollen folds. The sound is loud, filthy, obscene—wet as hell. His cock slides against her, dragging through the mess between them before he shoves it back in. She shudders, her breath hitching, her thighs twitching as you tease her with the weight of it before pressing forward, sinking back inside.

Chaewon’s eyes flutter, her breath catching as you force her legs up, pressing her thighs flush to her chest, pinning her in place, giving her no room to squirm away. The new angle has her gasping, hands flying up to your arms, gripping tight, her nails dig into your arms, clinging tight like she’s bracing for impact, like she needs something to hold onto before she breaks completely.

The bed shifts beneath you, and your phone vibrates once more, the buzz reverberating against her back, against your hips, felt through every grinding thrust. You both feel it. Neither of you care.

Your only focus is on the way she clenches around you, the way she gasps your name between ragged moans, the way she completely melts beneath you.

Chaewon’s hands fly to your shoulders, nails digging into your skin as she pulls you down to her. There’s nothing delicate about it—her kiss is messy, frantic, her lips parted, her breath hot and ragged against yours. She kisses like she’s starving for it, like she wants to taste herself on your tongue, like she doesn’t care how sloppy it gets.

Your tongues tangle, wet and uncoordinated, her mouth opening wider, drool slicking your chin, mixing with the sweat beading along your skin. She moans into it, needy, desperate, hips shifting beneath you, trying to keep up with the way you fuck her.

You pull back just enough to catch her dazed expression, lips swollen, spit-glossed. A strand of saliva still connects you, snapping when she licks her lips, pupils blown wide with something dangerously close to obsession.

“You don’t kiss her like that,” she breathes, and it’s not a question.

No, you don’t.

Eunbi kisses soft, slow, careful. Chaewon kisses like she wants to ruin you. And you let her.

Your response is a sharp thrust, making her yelp, making her arms tighten around your shoulders. Her back arches, and you take the moment to move, dragging yourself out until just the tip remains before shoving back in, hard. Her breath hitches, body tightening, legs shaking.

Then you stop moving.

She whines immediately, brows furrowing, her legs squeezing around you, trying to force you to keep going. But you don’t. You let the frustration build, watching her squirm, watching her writhe beneath you—wet, glistening, flushed deep with arousal. She’s a fucking mess, and you’re not done making her one.

You let the moment hang, let the desperation settle before tilting your head down and spitting—right on her clit. The thick glob lands exactly where you want it, shining against her swollen bud. Before she can even process it, your thumb is there, pressing in, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles as you start moving again.

She chokes on her breath, body jolting.

“Fuck,” she whimpers, fingers clawing at your forearms, legs shaking with every tight, controlled rub.

You’re still hovering above her, watching her squirm, watching her fall apart beneath you.

“Eunbi wouldn’t let you do that,” she gasps, voice breaking, teasing even as she crumbles.

No, she wouldn’t.

Eunbi wouldn’t moan like this, wouldn’t beg like this, wouldn’t be dripping like this. Eunbi wouldn’t take you like this.

Chaewon does.

And that’s why you fuck her harder.

Your thrusts grow rougher, deeper, driven by something reckless and insatiable. Chaewon’s body rocks beneath you, her moans turning sharper, breathless, spilling into the thick heat of the room. You press down, pinning her fully against the mattress, making sure she takes every inch, making sure she feels all of it.

Her nails scrape against your back, her legs tightening around your waist, pulling you closer, needing you deeper. Her breath stutters between gasps, each one catching higher as you fuck her harder, hungrier, as if there’s no tomorrow—no girlfriend still calling, no consequence waiting outside this room.

Risk of getting caught? Forgotten.

Guilt of cheating on your girlfriend? Forgotten.

Eunbi? Forgotten.

The only thing that matters is the way your cock fits so snug against Chaewon’s walls, the way she clenches down, tight and desperate, squeezing you with every frantic, high-pitched moan as she completely loses all composure.

She’s right there, on the edge, her nails dragging, her hips bucking up, desperate to finish. But you don’t let her have it. Not yet.

You slow—not in pace, but in control. Shift your weight, dragging her with you, rolling her onto her side without ever slipping out. One of her legs hitches over yours, your grip securing it in place as you push in again, deeper, the angle hitting something inside her that makes her whimper, makes her entire body tense up.

Her fingers claw at your arm, nails pressing into taut muscle, her breath breaking apart into sharp little gasps. She’s trying to speak, trying to say something, but it keeps getting swallowed between ragged moans.

"I’m—" she tries, voice cracking, "I—fuck—"

The way she stumbles over it, how she can barely get the words out, makes something snap inside you. Your cock throbs, swelling even harder, stretching her more as her walls squeeze around you in desperation. Your grip tightens—on her thighs, her ass, her waist. You need to feel her, need to hold every part of her as she comes undone.

Your hands roam—palming the curve of her back, gripping her tits, feeling the way they bounce with every thrust. Then up, fingers tangling into her blonde hair, tugging her head back against the pillows, making sure she feels all of it, all of you.

She pulls a pillow close, biting into it, eyes squeezed shut, drowning in the way you fuck her. The room is thick with the sound of skin against skin, her breathless whimpers breaking into something higher, needier. The air is heavy, thick with sweat, with the intoxicating scent of her—her perfume mixing with the raw, musky heat of sex, the sheets carrying the evidence of it. It’s overwhelming, suffocating, consuming, every breath filled with her.

You’re barely holding on yourself, tension winding tight in your spine, in your stomach, but seeing her like this—seeing her break beneath you, seeing her fall apart in your hands—that’s what pushes you closer to the edge.

You grit your teeth, feel your cock twitch inside her, aching, swollen, so fucking close you can taste it. "I'm close," you manage, voice rough, strained, barely holding on.

Chaewon doesn’t answer—not with words. Just a moan, high-pitched and wrecked, a breathless whimper spilling past her swollen lips. She turns her head, eyes hazy, half-lidded, looking at you through the blur of sweat and pleasure. Her gaze drops, trailing down your body, watching the way you’re fucking into her, the way you stretch her open, the way you own her.

Then her hand moves—sliding between her legs, fingers brushing over her swollen, messy clit. She gasps at the contact, whines as she rubs tight, fast circles, her entire body tensing, back arching into you.

The slick, obscene sounds of it mix with her gasps, her slurred curses, her whimpers breaking into desperate, breathless pleas. "Fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck—"

You’re right there. So fucking close.

Chaewon gets there first. Her entire body seizes up, legs trembling, thighs squeezing tight around your waist as she crashes into her orgasm. Her grip turns bruising, hands clawing at you—your back, your arms, your shoulders—grasping for anything, everything as she spirals.

"Oh my fuck!" she screams, head thrown back, voice breaking into something raw and desperate.

That’s it. That’s what fucking wrecks you.

Your body locks up, heat pooling at the base of your spine, surging through you like a live wire, so intense it knocks the breath from your lungs. Your cock twitches violently inside her, pulsing, aching, your entire body seizing up—legs tensing, toes curling, muscles locking in place as the pleasure crashes through you. You bury yourself deep one last time before instinct kicks in, before you yank yourself out, your hands shoving her onto her back.

You stroke yourself fast, frantic, desperate, your abs clenching, hips jerking on instinct, chasing that last pulse of pleasure. The sight of her wrecked beneath you, her skin still flushed, her thighs twitching, sends you over the fucking edge. "Shit—" you groan, voice wrecked, guttural, as your cock throbs violently in your grip. The first thick spurt shoots out, streaking across her stomach, hot and filthy, splashing across the curve of her waist, her navel. The rest follows in messy ropes, dribbling down her skin, pooling between her ribs. It’s everywhere—sticky, raw, a fucking mess. Chaewon shudders at the sensation, her breath hitching, her thighs still twitching from the aftershocks of her own release.

She exhales, still trembling, thighs twitching, completely spent. A fucked-out smile tugs lazily at her lips as she drags a slow, shaky breath in, her chest rising, coated in the evidence of what you just did to her.

You sit back, gasping, running a hand through your sweat-damp hair, trying to catch your breath.

Chaewon stirs, reaching down without hesitation. Her fingers trail over her stomach, gathering the mess you left on her, scooping up a streak from her skin and bringing it to her mouth. Her tongue flicks out, tasting it, humming low in her throat. Then she does it again—this time from her chest, then her waist, dragging her fingers through the sticky warmth, licking it up like it’s second nature.

"Fuck," you breathe, voice wrecked, hand finding her thigh and squeezing it tight.

She moans softly at the contact, smirking as she stretches out beneath you, shameless. "You fucked the shit out of me," she purrs, voice thick, teasing. "Now you gonna think about it the next time you fuck Eunbi, huh?"

Your jaw tightens. The mention of her—your girlfriend—after everything you just did, after the way Chaewon looks right now, smug and satisfied and so fucking filthy, makes something snap.

Your hand flies to her throat, gripping, pinning her back into the sheets. She gasps, but it’s not in protest—it’s in pleasure. Her lips part, her breath hitches, eyes darkening as she tilts her chin up, inviting more.

And then your phone rings.

Not just a vibration this time. A full-blown call.

Loud. Shrill. Eunbi.

A cold weight sinks into your chest, heavy, suffocating.

Post-nut clarity slams into you, cutting through the heat still clinging to your skin. Everything crashes in at once.

You let go of Chaewon’s neck like she burns you, scrambling off of her, off the bed, reaching blindly for your phone. Your hands are still shaky as you grab it, answering as fast as you can, voice rough, breath unsteady.

"Hey."

Eunbi’s voice is light, sweet, unaware. "Hey, why weren’t you replying? It’s class change."

Fuck. You swallow hard, running a hand through your damp hair. Your skin is still hot, sticky, the air thick with the lingering heat and smell of musk.

"Uh—I had to walk home to grab something."

A lie. A weak one. But it makes sense. You live close enough to the school that it’s not impossible. You just hope she buys it.

"Oh," Eunbi hums. "I got worried."

As she talks, you don’t notice Chaewon moving. Not until she’s right there, sliding down the bed, her bare body pressing into your side, her face hovering way too close to your cock.

Your breath hitches. Your grip on the phone tightens.

She’s smirking. Watching you. Waiting.

"You weren’t answering," Eunbi says. "I thought something happened."

"Sorry, babe. Didn’t mean to worry you."

And that’s when Chaewon makes her move.

She doesn’t touch your cock. Not yet. Instead, her mouth goes lower, latching onto your balls, sucking wet and slow, tongue swirling over sensitive skin.

A bolt of heat spikes down your spine. Your muscles go tight, your breath cuts short, your fingers dig into the sheets.

"Shit," you almost say out loud—but bite your tongue last second.

Eunbi’s still talking. You don’t even register what she’s saying.

Chaewon’s fucking grinning, lips stretched around you, her eyes locked onto yours, waiting for you to slip up, to lose control, to moan or gasp or fucking break.

You shove her back, her shoulders hitting the mattress, but all it does is make her giggle—low and sultry, like she’s savoring your panic, like she enjoys watching you squirm. Too loudly.

Panic seizes your whole body. Your eyes go wide. You press a finger to your lips, mouthing, “Shhh.”

Eunbi pauses on the other end. "You okay?"

You force yourself to act normal. To breathe. You push Chaewon away—physically shove her back. She pouts, but she listens, sitting back on her heels, smug and satisfied, before stretching her arms over her head, languid and unbothered. Then, just as easily, she steps off the bed, stretching like a cat, unbothered, like this was nothing more than a game to her.

"Yeah," you say, somehow steady. "I’m fine."

Through the phone, you hear Eunbi giggling, the sound of footsteps, her friends chattering in the background. She’s walking to her next class. Completely unaware.

"Okay," she says. "I’ll see you at lunch then, babe. Love you."

Silence lingers. A pause that stretches too long.

You should say it back. You need to. But then, you look up.

Chaewon’s standing at her closet, slipping on fresh clothes. Her ass is in clear view, the length of her body stretching as she moves, her legs lean and smooth. Her messy tank top clings to her body, damp with sweat, a streak of dried cum still visible on the fabric.

Your mouth feels dry.

"I love you too," you manage to say, through everything weighing on you, and the call ends with a soft beep.

Chaewon turns to face you.

And she gives you a look.

Not smug. Not teasing.

Just dirty. Unreadable. Something dark and lingering in her eyes.

She doesn’t say a word. Just grabs her shorts, turns, and walks out to the bathroom.

The door shuts.

You sit there, still gripping your phone, staring at the space she left behind. Your pulse won’t slow down. Not from the panic. Not from the guilt. Not from the fact that even now, even after all of it—you still want her.

Your skin burns, your body tense, still stuck in it. Still feeling it. What you shouldn’t have done. But you did. And the worst part? Some fucked-up part of you knows that if she pulled you back into that bed, you wouldn’t stop her.

You should feel worse. You should hate yourself.

But Chaewon’s still hot as fuck, and that’s the problem.

AN: This was originally going to be a longer fic, but I ended up with a newer Chaewon idea, and she’s my ult bias so i cut this down to just the sex.

Sorry to all the Eunbi fans, dw she’ll get her own

[dwaekkicidal]

thinking about idol!skz making their cute little stay sign an NDA

wc» 4k (APPARENTLY???)

cw» fem & STAY!reader, orgy (9), multiple rounds for reader but all of skz goes once each, both mean & soft dom skz, fingering/finger fucking, recording with a phone, 1 protected & 2 unprotected p in v, oral (f briefly & m fully receiving), face fucking, facial, light cum play?

an» i reread this like 10 times but i still hate it idk why lol, but anyways pls note that im using their STAGE names, this is really unrealistic imo but im indulging for once in my writing career bc im a weak, weak woman

shes so excited and has the biggest smile on her face, despite the fact that she knows there's mostly dirty stuff in the agreement. their manager stands nearby in the conference room, watching over every move from everyone. 'just in case'

and little does she know that the second she's done signing, they agreed to show her just why they're known for being one of, if not THE rowdiest idol group ever.

and then that sweet little smile pops up again and she pushes the signed form towards their manager. they wait patiently for a confirmation before even making the tiniest move. once they witness a nod and a bow in farewell from their manager, they smile to themselves.

lee know is the first to pounce, not even giving their manager time to walk out of the room.

the manager throws a plastic bag onto the middle of the conference table and heads to the door with some comments to the boys, and she watches as something thumps as the bag falls over and she faintly sees the shiny, square wrapper of something peeking out

lee know gives her a sickeningly sweet smile and helps her to her feet. she's confused as to why but doesn't exactly question it. she just assumes they're going to another room. and, well, it's not like she has the chance to really question anything.

not when her whole world spins and her cheek aches from the way shes all but slammed onto the conference table. and sure as hell not when her short, thin sundress is pulled up and bunched around her waist. and he wastes no time either!! it's like he's been waiting for that stupid piece of paper to get signed.

he knows it's all for the group's safety and that it was necessary for a "situation like this" or whatever crap his manager said. but that won't stop him from making you pay for it.

he's ruthless as he finger fucks you into oblivion right off the bat, leaving little comments here and there as his free hand digs into your neck, holding you down against the flat surface.

he curls both fingers directly into your g-spot and your orgasm takes you by surprise. you had no chance to warn him- or any of them- before you moan loudly and gush around his fingers. your legs kick up behind you in overstimulation, but he still doesn't let up right away. only once he remembers his other members are still there, he finally slides them out of you.

he's quick to get a taste and shoves his fingers past his lips, licking them clean as you attempt to catch your breath. you manage to shake off some of the surprise just in time for the sound of a chair scraping against the floor meeting your ears.

then you feel hands on your hips and youre spinning again. this time though, you're folded into a chair. lee know holds you against him and pulls your legs up to your chest, letting you sink down just the slightest bit and causing your head to rest against his pecs.

you're not sure what to expect until you notice i.n hovering over you. he runs the back of his fingers against your folds and laughs at the way your legs twitch from sensitivity. then he uses his free hand to stroke up and down your thigh before settling by your ass and using his thumb to spread you open.

he sits there for a moment and just takes in the sight of you just barely glistening and makes a noise of delight, as if he were eating his favorite meal.

he runs his fingers through your folds again, this time with more pressure, and teasingly dips the first few centimeters of his fingers into your hole before popping it back out and tracing little circles around your clit

eventually, amidst your whines and little hole twitches, he indulges you and sinks two of those long fingers into your walls. your legs twitch against lee know's hold and the elder squeezes your legs tighter before making some crude comment in your ear that you can't completely pick up behind the squelching of your pussy </3

i.n smiles to himself and moves his fingers roughly right off the bat. his fingertips dig meanly into your g-spot and you cry out loudly. your eyes focus on the maknae above you, taking in the crazy look in his eyes as he coos down at you in mockery of your whines.

and thanks to that, you miss the way a phone gets set up right where you just signed your life away. it's almost comedic the way they use the same tripod they use in their lives. but, again, you completely miss it.

and nobody can really blame you because the first orgasm that gets caught on the camera, literally seconds after the recording started, was enough to make your legs snap out of lee know's grasp.

i.n laughs and slows his fingers, letting you ride out that high for a moment and waiting for your legs to unclasp to pull his fingers out completely.

you think you understand now, and maybe it's onto the next, but that's not happening. not when this spoiled little brat doesn't move away from you. a few people even stand to claim their turn but, much to their dismay, i.n only sits in the same spot. in fact, he runs his fingers through your folds again, ready for a round 2- or... 3, i guess you could say.

and who are they to deny their little brother! after all, they are the ones who made him so spoiled in the first place. if they let him walk all over them without any punishment, you can't imagine the things he has planned for you.

a cry is ripped through your throat as his fingers dive in again at the same time that lee know hooks your legs over his, spreading you nice and wide for the room. the fingers just as mean as before and you can see his arms flexing as he tries to find another, deeper angle. one that he finds rather easily thanks to the telltale shivers from your body.

though, he's not really given much time to play with it as you cum again suddenly. you gasp loudly and he can tell it caught you off guard too, so he laughs and helps lee know hold your legs down and apart as he finger fucks you through this orgasm. he pulled his fingers out at the perfect time, right before it had actually became too much.

buuut, like stated earlier, they are the rowdiest group around. so did you actually think you would get a second to breathe? lol. maybe with one of the others, yes. but seungmin? yeah.... no. he actually pushes i.n out of the way, to the point where the youngest almost falls on the floor.

he then lands a brisk slap to your folds and wastes no time in shoving his fingers in, 3 of them to be exact. your eyes roll into the back of your head and one of your hands desperately digs your nails into his arm. he responds by pushing it away and landing another slap to your folds.

lee know laughs from behind you and hooks his forearm under your knee, hugging that leg to your chest and using his other hand to grip your wrist tightly. seungmin takes the chance and uses his free hand to push your other leg away, spreading you open while also pinning it up and away from you. the action makes you fall back against lee knows chest again.

his fingers are somehow rougher than the other 2 before him. you thought i.n was bad, but seungmin shows you no mercy. he even puts on a show for the others and leans down, sinking his teeth into the fat of your thigh thats just under lee know's arm

the action makes you whimper and clench around his fingers, taking him by surprise. he tests the waters and bites again, but harder. you clench yet again and the boys watch as your eyes roll to the back of your head

your mind is becoming foggy as you are forced to take everything the second youngest gives. and when you finally come for the 4th time, he pushes it even further and lands a sudden smack to your ass.

he pulls away slightly, his fingers drawing sticky shapes into your folds as mumbled chatter is heard. lee know pushes you to your feet and helps you stand up as a set of steps are walking towards you.

felix takes lee know's seat on the chair and pulls you onto his lap. you feel his hands on your hips, dragging your cunt back and forth along his cock, before you notice the man in front of you. han smiles sweetly, but when you blink you catch on to the menacing message behind it. even more so when he drops to his knees, eyes never leaving yours, and licks a long, slow stripe up your thigh.

felix giggles to himself when you shiver at the feeling and digs his fingers into your hips. he lifts you just enough for han to slide his cock inside of you. then he drops you down suddenly and hugs you to his chest.

you cry out at the suddenness and the room erupts in husky chuckles, some of them pulling their cocks out to jerk off at the sight of you getting broken in by their sunshine.

you get manhandled a little further, specifically felix positioning you so that he can fuck into you while giving han some space to work with. once they find the position that works, the pair give you no time to think.

han latches onto your clit immediately, sucking harshly and running his tongue in messy shapes against it. felix groans into your ear from the way you clench around him, but he uses it as motivation to start fucking into you.

the two hover you slightly above felix and give him space to start lifting his hips slowly- trying to find a rhythm that works for the awkward position. once he finds it, he digs his hands into your waist and starts fucking you harder, his tip hitting an angle similar to the one i.n had found earlier

your moan gets caught in your throat and you feel han smile against your mound at the sound. felix reads you like a book and fucks his hips in the same position, making sure to roll his hips slowly once he was sure that he found the right spot.

han nips at your clit softly one final time before standing to his feet again. he backs up and unbuckles his belt, never breaking eye contact with you, and smirks when he pulls his cock out.

the two move almost in sync and you're helped back onto your feet only to get pushed forward and shoved towards han's length. they hastily spit roast you and fuck you like there's no tomorrow- han's hand fisting your hair while the other holds both your wrists up and out of the way for felix, who squeezes your ass firmly before landing a playful smack to your thigh.

they take turns pushing you back onto the other, seesawing you like it's some sort of game until felix slows suddenly and finishes inside the condom you hadnt even realized he put on. he pulls away with no warning once he's done and you drop to your knees at the loss of your main support system.

han laughs and slaps his tip along your lips, then against your tongue when you poke it out obediently.

somebody on your side whistles at the sight and you feel your cheeks burn, only for it to fade once two hands rest on either cheek and use that grip as leverage to start fucking your throat.

its so sloppy, but thankfully isnt as rough as you'd have expected. he still fucks your throat roughly, but it's just enough for you to be able to look up at him under your lashes and run your tongue along his underside.

he groans and bites his lip at the feeling, eyes rolling until theyre closed as a drunk smile breaks out on his face. 'dirty girl.'

once han has you swallow his release, he crouches down in front of you and gives you a sweet peck on your cheek alongside a soft massage to your hips. he throws in a comment about how good you've been so far, only to get interrupted by one of the older boys.

but he can't really blame hyunjin for being impatient for his turn. i.n got two turns against everybody else's will so he's a little cranky that they're behind schedule.

he stalks towards you, a smirk painting his face as he helps you to your feet. hyunjin giggles as he pulls you into him and you stumble from your shaky legs. his pillowy lips push against your neck and you melt at the feeling, closing your eyes momentarily and forgetting about the other men surrounding you.

its short-lived, though, and hyunjin quickly releases your neck to spin you around and help you jump onto the table. his hand sneaks into the base of your head, grabbing onto what hair he can manage in a few seconds, and tugs your neck backward.

while he does that, his other arm wraps around your waist and holds you against his chest, making sure that you dont go anywhere.

he holds your head in a way that forces you to keep eye contact, and for a moment you’re confused as to why. but then he empties your head the second the thought comes to mind thanks to the way his cock slides through your folds

it makes your jaw drop and he mocks your expression, smiling at the end of it when you whine in embarrassment. he's so long. cock tearing up your insides already and he's not even started fucking you yet.

he starts off strong, his balls smack against your ass and the hand in your hair tightens, using the hold as leverage to hold you still so he can fuck into you even harder.

the hand on your back moves to your thigh, pushing one of them up and out of the way to give him more space to fuck you deeper. between your tightness nearly suffocating his cock and watching so much build-up, hyunjin already feels like his orgasm is close by.

and he’d be completely right, especially when your cunt makes so much of those gooey goodness noises and you leak around him like a faucet.

the hand in your hair tugs and angles you to the side. once he’s happy with the skin he can see, he leans forward and bites down on your collarbone. he leaves a few marks there before his hand releases your neck in favor of yanking your sundress over your tits. he would have half the mind to just take it off, but with his orgasm so close, he has something else on his mind.

he kisses your boob once and then kisses your nipple, he stays there just a moment before biting down on it softly and sucking harshly. your nipples were so sensitive from not being touched at all and it triggers your next orgasm. he rides it out by continuing to eagerly fuck into you and chase his own orgasm.

he finds it after leaving a few bite marks against your collarbone and groans into your ear as he fucks you through it, his hips stuttering each time you feel a warmth filling you.

he pulls away after some time passes and pulls out slowly, eyes glued to the sight of your cunt leaking his cum. he smiles and continues to stare at it for a moment, even going as far as to tease his tip through your folds and draw shapes into your clit with his messy tip. he dips it back in your hole one last time to get a reaction out of you before he’s pulled away by a hand on his shoulder.

your pussy is behind puffy at this point, but what do they care? this is what you agreed to, after all. and as much as changbin wants to feel bad for you, his cock aches so badly from something that only you and that pretty pussy of yours could fix.

he drags you off the table by your hips and flips you around, pushing you down against the table forcefully exactly like lee know did earlier. the only difference is this time, changbin shoves his cock in you all at once.

the sheer thickness of it makes you choke on your spit and dig your nails into the table. you push up to try and get a second to breathe, but he wraps his hand around your neck from behind and pulls you flat against his chest.

he mumbles something into your ear about how you need to stop running away from him, and how you need to take it or else he’ll give it to you 10 times harder.

and at first you listen perfectly! your body shakes and moves a little too much for his liking, but you obey rather nicely as he fucks you thoroughly.

you listen just fine until he lifts your hips just the slightest bit and a second pair of hands slides a folded-up sweater under your stomach, giving him a new, much better angle to ram into.

thats when you start to push back against him and disobey him.

he rolls his eyes and slams his hand against your ass, making you twitch farther away from him. he huffs under his breath and pulls you all the way onto his cock by your shoulders.

it makes him bottom out and your legs shake when he sits still, making you feel every last inch of him and every last throbbing vein along his length.

you clench around him unintentionally and it makes him loosen his hold on you, giving you some leeway to try wiggling away again. but he’s not gonna have any of that!! you’re supposed to be good.

so he drags his hands down your shoulders and down your arms until he gets to your wrists. once he wraps his hands around them, he pulls you up and forcefully arches your back as he holds your arms back near his stomach.

the new position gives him enough leverage to fuck you deeply while simultaneously preventing you from getting away from him, and with his rough eagerness, it's not a surprise that the both of you cum in the next few minutes.

he bottoms out one last time as he releases into you, emptying what feels like actual buckets into you and taking well over 15 seconds until his balls are done draining into you.

the feeling of being overfilled from multiple loads, one of which felt like gallons worth, and being bullied by his thick cock made your legs finally give out. changbin pulls out of you all of a sudden and neither of you has much time to react before your legs wobble and you fall to your knees.

he catches you as your knees hit the floor and he laughs to himself when you try to use the table to stand up, only to stumble again.

instead of helping you up, he grins smugly and watches as your legs tremble from your spot on the floor. even once he’s done, he still doesn’t help you up. he just backs away and leaves you to screw your head back on.

you really felt like you were finished, your brain was so fogged that you genuinely lost count of how many of them had brought you to an orgasm. not to mention you had no idea how many orgasms you even had.

but thankfully, it technically was the last- at least for your cunt (for now).

bang chan clears his throat to catch your attention and smiles sweetly at you from across the room when your eyes meet. he doesn’t move more than an inch, only tilting his head slightly and raising his eyebrow at you in a way that makes you ache with need.

his eyes glance to his feet before returning to your face and you take a moment to process what he wants, your brain still foggy from the onslaught of orgasms you had to suddenly endure, but it clicks fast enough for him to smile even wider when you begin crawling over to him.

your face burns in embarrassment from the others watching, but chan’s thumb stroking your cheek once you settle between his thighs makes it worth every second.

“i’ll be the nice one and give you a break.” a few sounds of disapproval come from behind you, but inevitably die down when he glances towards them. he teases his thumb along your bottom lip and continues.

“that being said…” the thumb on his other hand pushes down on his cock through his pants before dipping under his hem. “i still deserve a turn, don’t ya think?” he pulls his pants and boxers down before you can say anything and you find yourself drooling at the sight of him. “i had to sit here and watch my boys break you in. it’s only fair”

he slaps his tip against your cheek a few times, laughing to himself at the action, then pushes himself past your lips. he groans quietly with a smile painting his face as you take him deeper on your own- all the way until you feel him in the back of your throat.

his hand pushes down against your head, making you deepthroat him. he revels in the feeling for a moment before loosening the pressure and helping you pull off.

he easily falls into a rhythm like this, lifting and pushing your head onto himself. his groans were enough to get you to push your legs together, the ache between your legs somehow coming back as you pleasure the “head of the house.” between his praises and pet names, you only felt more eager to suck him harder and cause his orgasm.

you completely forget everything around you until i.n. walks into your peripheral vision with a phone on a small tripod in his hand. your eyes snap to him, staring at the smile that's partially hidden behind the phone, before staring directly into the camera lens.

you can tell it affects him from the way his smile falters and he takes his lips between his teeth.

“eyes on me.”

your eyes immediately snap back to chan and you circle your tongue around his tip in apology. he smirks and furrows his eyebrows when your tongue traces the most prominent vein on him, a more sensitive spot for him.

he already felt close enough from that, but when you pull off him momentarily and stroke him so that you can run your tongue between his base and his balls, he completely loses it.

ropes of cum paint your face and you have to close your eyes to prevent any injury, and chan only groans louder at the sight, seemingly cumming even more from unintentionally painting your face.

once he’s finished and only your eyes are cleaned off, i.n walks up to you and grabs a handful of your hair, forcing your neck back to present your dirty face to the phone that was still recording.

somebody reaches from behind you and gathers some of chan's release on their finger only to shove it past your lips. you hum and the taste and shut your eyes in satisfaction.

all 3 men laugh and hyunjin speaks up as the mystery man, squeezing your cheeks together: "say cheese~"

they know they found the perfect toy when you smile drunkly into the lens <3

“now that that's out of our system... let’s go to a different room and talk more specific details through. this room reeks of cum-”

Taglist: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @honeyybbuubblleess

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams @velvetmoonlght

@aeri-skzver

[seungcheorry]

Ot13 reaction on how many kids SVT would have?

how many kids svt would have:

seungcheol probably wants to have two at least. i can picture him having a baby girl and then getting too excited once his partner is free from the whole post partum thing and getting them pregnant again right afterwards. he would really wish for a baby boy then.

jeonghan would love to have two as well, and i can see him having twins - i don't know why, something in him just screams FATHER OF TWINS to me. probably two girls? it's a lot of work though, he'll be done with having kids, would probably even do the surgery so he can't have any anymore.

joshua is very similar to seungcheol to me, would probably have a boy and then get too excited and have a girl because his dna is just good like that. the prettiest kids to ever exist actually, and he's so in love with them that it can be quite easy to talk him into having another one after a few years.

junhui screams boy dad to me, so yeah. i can see him having only one child, a really savage boy just like minghao was back in the day? weird but in a good, chomical way. he would be really good friends with his kid, like a partners in crime type of relationship.

soonyoung... oh, soonyoung. he says he wants to have lots and lots of kids because he loves having his house full but after the first one - a baby boy -, he gets so tired that he actually apologizes to his mom. might slip or be talked into having another one (he just wants his kid to have a relationship like the one he has with his sister); would really hope for a girl then, would probably get another boy though.

wonwoo is a definitely a girl dad too. he would really hope for a boy (i don't know why, i just feel like he would) but then it comes a baby girl and he turns into mush for her. such a goner, i can't even begin to describe - she can tell him to stay put for 20 whole minutes while she pretends to make tea and he won't move a muscle, just stay there and watch her because she told him to. would probably just want one.

jihoon is a girl dad and i will die on this hill. he's also a goner for his girl, he's very strict with things but also he doesn't like to be rough to her so he's just, i don't know, the perfect balance? most likely to be the favorite parent and learn about his daughter secrets before his partner because she just trusts him like that. would also just want one.

seokmin would love three - the first one (a boy) is probably planned; the second one (a girl) is probably an expected accident as he doesn't mind having sex without protection even though he knows the risks; the third one (another boy) is probably an unexpected accident that he cries in joy when he sees for the first time. he would definitely tell his partner "i'm so glad we got drunk that night" while seeing his two oldest children ganging up to change the new baby's diaper.

mingyu definitely wants two kids, he loves his sister too much and knows how a sibling relationship can literally save someone. most likely to have two girls, and his partner might ask him if he isn't sad that they didn't have a boy but he's too busy to answer as he's teaching the girls how to make ramyeon :(

minghao already said himself, he's not the one who gets to decide how many kids he and his partner will have, but he wants two - and can be bend into having a third one. i can see him having a boy and then a girl, and if he and his partner decides for another one, then it would be another girl, probably.

seungkwan would have two girls and his dramatic ass would say it's karma because what do you mean he grew up with his older sisters and now he has to take care of yet other two girls who will bicker and gang up on him just like his sisters did? behind that facade though he would love to take care of them and to see them grow together. most emotional dad, for sure.

vernon is a boy dad to me and he would say he only wants one kid but then he sees him growing up on his own and don't get me wrong, the kid is totally fine with it, but vernon can't stop thinking about how sofia changed his life and he would go "yeah, we might need another one" to his partner. makes a whole deal about it when he finds out his second child is gonna be a girl. "REALLY, WHAT ARE THE ODDS?"... but it's not that hard, vernon. i'm glad you're happy though, i know you love your kids.

chan is also a boy dad and he would probably want another kid but once he realizes how much work and effort it takes, he's sticking to just one. if his partner ever wants another one they would have to really talk him into it, might even need to ask seokmin for help, because chan would stand his ground and say no. but honestly? he's a loverboy, at the end he might just say yes and then meet his cute little daughter and be like "oh my god, why didn't we make her sooner?"

[soldiersgirl]

— 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 .ᐟ

summary — the work week was harder than expected, but it was nothing a little clubbing and some casual fun couldn't fix. but nothing about soldier boy is casual and you look delicious enough to eat.

cw — 18+, smut, p in v (wrap it), mentions of drinking and smoking, clubbing, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, teasing, nicknames (good girl, princess, sweetheart, slut), biting, cold/sweet ben. (lmk if i forgot any!)

word count — 2,241 words

the lights flashed, the drinks flowed, hips were swung and cigarettes were smoked without a care in the world. the work week at vought had been brutal; you had thought that working marketing for vought was your biggest dream, but turned out to be a nightmare in disguise.

all you needed was a way to get your frustrations out and somebody already had their sight on you; watching you like a predator stalks its prey. waiting to strike. to devour. consume.

the beat overtook your body as you danced with your girlfriends at the bar, wildly rocking your hips and laughing loudly as you held onto each other for support. your balance like a newborn fawn after the countless tequila shots and free drinks from sleazy vought business men.

1 shot, 2 shot, 3 shot, 4. one shot for each time ashley had either berated or shouted at you in the past week in front of the whole team, reducing you to nothing but a mess.

"do you really think homelander would write some fucking shit like this?" "you need to cover a-trains fucking live right now, he goes off the rails without a shitting script!" "how far is your head up your own asshole that you can't see the mistakes?"

all you wanted to do was quit, but your best friend had really stuck her neck out and gotten you the position and quitting would only fuck it up for both of you. you swallowed your pride like you swallowed the bitter alcohol and plastered on a fake smile. you couldn't work out if you were trying to convince your friends or yourself of your happiness anymore.

your eyes couldn't help but scan the crowd, it felt like something was calling out to you. craving your attention. all you could see was the heaving, starved movements of the dancers. bodies grinding against each other in desperation, sweet nothings and dirty promises whispered in ears. skin pulled, kisses shared, drinks drunk and spilt. until you noticed him.

a smirk on his face, a cigarette dangling from his plush lips framed by soft stubble, and an intimidating gaze. his stance frozen and domineering as the crowd ebbed and flowed around him like a lonesome island in a vast ocean. frozen, like the unstable fawn caught in the headlights, you are captured by his harsh gaze as he follows your every move. he notices how your breath hitches, how your heartbeat quickens, how your brain tries to make sense of where you'd seen him before.

you tug on your friends arm, tearing her attention away from some old businessman who is too eager for his own good. you hold her hands tight as your eyes frantically dart over to him, not daring to look away for too long. she catches the hint and her eyes drift to the dominating figure in the crowd and a small smirk spreads across her face.

"you want to be careful of that one." she laughs, her shoulders shaking as she glances you over.

"have you seen him before? he looks so familiar..." you shout over the bass and drum as you hesitantly follow her lead to the dance floor, your heels click-clacking in sync.

"we fucked once, i think. can't really recall. you don't recognise him?" she shouts in your ear as you reach the epicenter of the crowd and let the music flow through you. you give him one last look and shake your head. "it's......" she tries to shout, but the thrum of the bass muffles her voice. you struggle to concentrate, to listen to her warnings but your mind has fogged over. all control has been relinquished to the beat that flows over you like rain during a thunderstorm.

your body hums and tingles as you sway and swing your hips to the techno music that blasts, but all the while you feel his glare burn a hole into the nape of your neck. before you even know it you feel hands grab your hips, almost carefully, before you feel his stubble scratching against your neck. his hands travel wildly as you lean your head back to rest it on his wide shoulders and melt into the sensation of him. he grabs and spins you around. you're confronted with his infamous sage green eyes that you could drown in surrounded by a mask of intimidation and power.

soldier boy. with a big bald wolf-ish grin plastered on his face, ready to swallow you whole.

a blur. tongues and teeth clashing. hips grinding. promises whispered. dragged to a back door exit and thrown into a waiting car. all leading up to now in a dingy motel, still fully clothed and on your knees in front of him. your heart beating through your chest as you gaze up at him through your heavy lashes as he admires you, so willing to be good for him. he groans as he fully takes you in; your baited breath and your wanting eyes. "shit, sweetheart. those eyes could melt any man's heart." soldier boy sighs as he reaches forward and runs his calloused finger over your lower lip, tugging on it and eliciting a whine from you. "too bad, i lost mine years ago." he comments nonchalantly as he drags his hand away from you and rests it on his belt. "now, are you going to be a good girl? or are we going to have some fuckin' problems?" his voice is rough and cold as he watches you shake your head. "i asked you a question, i expect an answer." he sighs, louder. "i'll be good, so good." you whisper, unaware of what you've unleashed upon yourself. with a smirk, he nods as if to say "go ahead" and you waste no time reaching up, undoing his belt and tugging down his moss green supe-trousers. you marvelled at the sight of him. the veins that curled around it, the pinkish hue of the tip, the girth that could break you. instinctively, you wrap your hand around it and slowly tug on it, earning a long exhale from him as he throws his head, urging you to grip harder and go faster. you lick a stripe from the base to the tip of his hard cock and twirl your tongue around his reddened tip, the taste of salt lingering in your mouth.

before you know it, soldier boy has threaded his fingers through your soft hair and tugs on it as your lips glide up and down his length, fully taking him and relishing in his soft moans. his hips start to rock, burying himself in your throat as your nails dig into his strong thighs. the pain barely registering to him as he loses himself in the way your skilled lips and tongue work against him.

"you look so fucking good like this, sweetheart. my dick.." he grunts and pulls out, letting you breathe for a second. "down your slutty throat." he gently strokes your cheek as you catch your breath, the tears and spit glistening before guiding himself back into the comforting warmth of your mouth around him. he watches, almost adoringly, as you stroke and suck on his thick cock, your eyes never leaving his as you give into your urges.

"does it make you feel good? sucking on soldier's boy cock like this? so fuckin' desperate for me, aren't you?" he mutters with a devilish smile. "i don't even know your name and yet, you're so ready for me, baby. fuck..." his eyes roll into the back of his head as you once again deep-throat him. "fuck this." he grunts before pulling himself out of your mouth with a wet 'pop!'. he roughly grabs you by the hair on the nape of your neck, tugs you up and push you down onto his cluttered bed. he positions you how he wants and you follow willingly like his little doll as lays you on your back, with your knees bent and your pink panties on full display.

he lets out a loud groan as he notices the wet patch that had only gotten bigger and bigger since he first laid his strong hands on you in the club. you whimper as his rough fingers trace the outline of your panties, grazing against your soft thighs. the difference between his tentative touches and harsh words that make your heart soar before making it almost beat out of your chest.

"all this for me, baby? so wet just for me?" he mocks with a fake pout as his fingers finally drag over your clothed clit, pressing down on it and watching you squirm.

"soldier bo-" you start but he cuts you off with a light slap to your thigh.

"ben." he interjects, a silent warning.

"ben." you mutter. "please, please.. just touch me, fuck me. anything.." your breath quickens as you finally give in and plead; god, it was like music to his ears. he pulls off the last of his supe-suit, leaving him completely exposed as you lay still in your heels and dress, not daring to move without his permission. he nudges your legs further apart with his chin before delicately kissing the inside of your legs, his scruff scratching you as he torturously slowly makes his way to where you both want him to be. he inhales your sweet scent; the fear, uncertainty and desire rolling off of you.

finally. he hooks his fingers and yanks your panties down, exposing your slick and needy folds to him. you can hear him lowly hum as he admires the mess he's made of you. he can't hold himself back anymore. his hunger is overwhelming and you're being served on a plate to him. he tenderly kisses your clit before completely drowning himself in you and letting his tongue explore you.

his tongue prods and glides expertly into every divot and crevice as your fingers thread through his soft, chestnut brown hair and cry out from the pleasure.

"fuck, ben! oh my go-" you softly moan before his fingers slide into you with ease, your walls inviting and immediately moulding to his thick fingers. like a man starved, he swallows all you have to offer him. each moan and plea that rolls off your tongue only fuels his desire for more. more.

he struggles to pull himself back from your warm, wet cunt and your addicting taste but he can't wait anymore and neither can you. your breath hitches and your legs shake with anticipation as you realise his next move. his slick-covered mouth curls into a smirk as he towers over you, forcefully pushing your dress up and roughly lifting your hips to meet his leaking, wanting tip. a unified, grumbled moan escape you both as he effortlessly pushes himself past your slippery folds and nestles himself deeply against your mound. his cock expertly kisses your cervix before he lazily pulls back and slams into you with a force unlike any other.

pornographic moans and the squelch of your wetness fills the seedy motel room. he can't tear his eyes away from you for a second, afraid he'll miss a twitch of your lips, a deep heaving of your chest or your eyes rolling into the back of your head. both his hands curl around your throat, enjoying the feeling of your quickened heartbeat under the pad of his thumb.

"you look good enough to eat, princess." he pants. "you're so fucking tight, god.. look at it." he looks adoringly down. "just keeps suckin' me in so deep." he swears under his breath as he hitches your legs around his waist, your heels clicking together with each harsh thrust. he leans down and grazes his teeth over your chest, spilling out of your little black dress. he sighs and bites down on your breast, hard, earning a yelp from you as you try to push him away. he licks and sucks on the marked skin, right above your fluttering heart. he sucked and nibbled at the sensitive area, as if he could delve right in and eat your heart right out. you whimper his name as your orgasm builds and threatens to explode.

"ben, please- fuck, please. let me cum. i-" your words come out a jumbled mess as his pace quickens, enjoying how you fall apart so easily beneath him.

"fucking cum for me. cum on my fucking cock. let them know how good soldier boy fucks your pussy, slut." he whispers into your neck as he, somehow, manages to shove himself even deeper and your walls clamp down around him. your body jerks and a series of mewls escape you before he follows swiftly behind and fills you up. he harshly grabs your face and kisses you deeply as his thrusts turn lazy and eventually stop.

he pulls back an inch or two to brush away the hair from your face and places a soft, unexpected kiss on your forehead. but like before, his demeanour quickly shifts, and he pushes himself off of the bed, gathers your underwear and carelessly throws it to you. but you catch the way his eyes linger on you, noticing something innocent behind his hardened eyes. you knew this wouldn't be the last time you'd see him.

that boy is a monster; a beast. and you're the beauty, willing to let yourself fall prey to him and his wicked ways.

authors note — AAAHHH MY FIRST FIC EVER. what the fuck??!! please be sweet, this was a terrifying process to go through and i hope no one is disappointed 😞 — based on the banger by lady gaga that i've been listening to on repeat for 2 months straight.

[vvampirelust]

just thinking about sevika riding your face xx

warning: smut, oral (s!recieving), face riding, choking, slapping and that’s all folks not proof read as always

i’m sorry this took so long guys

she does it on purpose. whistling sharply to get your attention. proving some unbeknownst point. sevika drags you from your fucked out daze, sprawled naked and spent in the middle of the bed. looking over, you near squeak like a kicked puppy.

raw need surges from sevika. seeping from flared nostrils with each ragged breath. hard eyes glazed over as she steps forward, returning to your side. “ain’t done with you, baby,” sevika shakes her head, discarding the strap she had in your tummy just minutes ago. she’s been fucking you for hours and as much pleasure she takes from it, she can’t deny the pounding between her own legs

You reach for her which only elicits a chuckle from the woman. Snatching your wrists and dragging you towards her. As your head hangs off the edge of the bed, you still manage to admire every inch of Sevika’s naked form. Mouth watering as she towers over you. “Make me feel good, yeah?” It’s not a question. Sevika straddles your face, giving you no choice but to obey. She keeps you locked in her bruising grasp, wrists painfully rubbing together. Sevika doesn’t care, getting off being the only goal in her mind.

Wasting no time and eager to make her feel good. Your tongue laps against her slit, moaning instantly as the taste of her invades your mouth. Sevika curses lowly above you, feeling you dipping between her folds to drink down her juices.

You feel the warmth on your tongue, the subtle throbbing as you circle her clit. Sevika drops her weight, hips bucking against your face. You shamelessly whine into her cunt as you lick her like a kitten would with milk. Unable to get enough, you devour her.

Sevika releases the grip on your wrists, instead pawing at your breasts. Squeezing and tweaking your nipples between the tips of her fingers. “Fuckkk,” Sevika groans, “Keep going.” Demanding with a sharp slap to your tit, just to feel you whimper against her cunt. She gets off on it, your suffering. She’s harsh with each grope, uncaring if a bruise is left, knowing that the pleasurable pain well, you get off on it too.

Sekiva grinds down on your face as you suckle on her protruding and pulsing clit. Lips wrapped around as you flick your tongue against her. Sevika looses control of her pleasure, letting the needy noises drip like honey from her mouth.

Hearing her let loose like that paired with the musky taste of her on your tongue. You can’t help but let your hand slip down your body, reaching for your own bundle of nerves. Cut short by Sevika grabbing your wrists yet again. “I don’t fucking think so,” throughout the pleasure, she still manages to keep her voice steady, menacing. “Don’t be stupid, you get what you get.” Sevika spits out, grinding down harder on your face.

She loves the way you struggle in her metal and unfaltering grip. Free hand sliding to wrap around your throat, squeezing. Sevika fucks herself on your face, hips rutting against your outstretched tongue. Curses and groans of pleasure falling from her lips as her clit slides back and forth over your wet muscle.

Sevika feels you choking against her, air cut off by the tight hold she has on you. Yet it only turns her on more. You don’t let up, lapping and fucking your tongue into her hole. All while gasping and sputtering into her cunt as Sevika gets herself off. “That’s it, doll,” she grunts with a hard thrust, throwing her head back. “Just love licking cunt, don’t you?” she laughs, tightening her hold on your throat.

And then she lets go, for a split second. Just as you begin to gasp in a breath of air, Sevika is seating her cunt back on your face. Cutting you off. Taunting you.

Her breaths become ragged, eyes falling closed as she nears the high that’s been building for hours. You try to keep up with each rut of her hips, mouth working to make her feel good. She holds your wrists against your stomach, leaning more and more of her weight atop you as she looses control. Even lightheaded, you lap, suckle and slurp at her cunt. Moaning and basking in her taste. Sevika’s thrusts becoming faltered the closer she gets. Grunting with each one and tightening her hold on you.

You’re near thrashing when Sevika cums, out of breath and trapped beneath her. If this is how you die, hell it’s a good way to go. You can feel her cunt throbbing with each wave, cum leaking into your mouth. Sevika can’t hold in the long moan that escapes as she rides out her high. Grinding sensually over your tongue, juices spilling and making a mess of you. She wouldn’t have it any other way. “Good…” Sevika sighs, “Good fucking girl.”

Gasping dramatically when she finally releases your throat, Sevika chuckles breathlessly. She steps off your face, patting your wet cheek in praise. It’s the most you’ll ever get and you’re more than happy to take it.

[khashanakalashtar]

I have a theory that there's something deep in the brain of cats that says Paws Must Be Free, because immobilizing a paw for any reason, including this one, causes every cat I have ever tried it on to Freak the Fuck Out. My parents' Willow is very chill in all ways except when you need to trim her nails or unstick her from a blanket, and when you trim her nails she growls. It's the only time she ever does. Survival instinct would account for it.

cats being capable of understanding accidents and even giving you a little head bonk to let you know you're still cool makes it infinitely funnier that they don't understand when you're trying to help them

cats when you step on their tail: i'll admit that was rather ouchie, but given the lifetime of goodwill and trust between us, one must conclude this booboo is but a fluke.

cats when you try to get their claws unstuck from the couch covering: this nefarious bitch has never had a single honorable intention in their dishonest and shameful life, this must be one of their sinister plots or perhaps even an attempt on my life,

[tzuyubb]

Hypnosis Therapy

Pairing: Blackpink Jennie x Male reader

Word count: 4774 words

Tags: hypnosis, size kink, lingerie, spanking, discipline, SPH (of her ex’s), blowjob, deepthroat, throatjob, facefuck, throatpie, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, pronebone, belly bulge, mind break, ahegao, deep penetration, rough sex, creampie

A/N: I've been sitting on this draft for a while now. So, when I got a hypnosis prompt, I decided that it would be perfect as my proper comeback to smut writing. Honestly, I love the premise, so I might make it a series that I post along with The Gentlemen's Playground.

You sat in your office, a cozy and inviting space in the bustling heart of Seoul. Your unique approach to therapy has garnered a stellar reputation among the city's elite, including the world-famous music and entertainment industry. Your specialty was using hypnosis to guide your clients, helping them navigate the intense stress and pressure that came with their high-profile careers. Today, as you looked at the appointment list, your only session for the morning was with a new client, Jennie, a member of the girl group Blackpink.

Minutes later, you heard the doorbell ring, a wave of excitement washed over you and you unlocked the door. Jennie entered your office, her presence exuded both confidence and a hint of vulnerability. Her stunning beauty and charisma were undeniable, and you could easily understand why she had captivated fans worldwide.

"Hello, Jennie," you greeted her with a warm smile, your voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you."

"Hi, Dr. Y/N," Jennie replied, her voice soft and slightly hesitant. "I've been told such amazing things about your work, so I'm hoping you can help me with some personal matters that have been troubling me."

You gestured to the comfy couch across from your chair, inviting her to take a seat. "Please, make yourself comfortable. Everything discussed within these walls remains confidential. You can feel safe sharing whatever is on your mind."

Jennie nodded, her eyes briefly scanned the tastefully decorated room, and she took a seat. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I know your schedule is tightly packed."

"Not at all, I've only had the best experiences with your company, so when they contacted me for an appointment, I cleared the morning for our session" you assured her, your tone soothing. "Now, why don't you start by telling me what brings you here today?"

Jennie took a deep breath as if gathering the courage to share something deeply personal. "Well, it's about my… sex life," she began, a slight flush creeping onto her cheeks. "I've never openly discussed this with anyone, even the other members, but I feel like it's affecting my overall happiness."

You maintained a calm and supportive demeanor, creating a judgement-free atmosphere. "It's perfectly okay, Jennie. Sex is a vital aspect of our lives, and it's entirely valid to seek help in this area. Please, tell me more."

"It's just…" Jennie paused, carefully choosing her words. "I've never truly been satisfied with my sex life. All my past relationships… they've all left me feeling somewhat… physically unfulfilled."

You leaned forward, your eyes filled with genuine interest and empathy. "I see. I understand that this can be a challenging topic to discuss, but I'm here to listen and help in any way I can. Please, spare no detail."

"It's not just that," Jennie continued, her voice gaining confidence as she sensed your unwavering support. "The guys I've been with… they all had smaller… you know… and it's just never felt quite right for me. I've watched those porn videos, the ones with massive cocks stretching girls out, and I can't help but wonder what that would feel like. I've also heard stories from Lisa about her and her boyfriend and can't help but feel jealous."

Your eyes widened slightly at Jennie's sincere admission, but you quickly regained your composure and professionalism. "It's completely natural to have those curiosities and desires. Sexual pleasure is very personal, and it's okay to want to explore and experience different things that you may prefer," you say, your voice steady.

Jennie bit her lip, her eyes darted down to her fidgeting hands on her lap. "I know it might sound superficial, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing out on potential pleasure. All the guys I've been with have been Asian, and I guess I'm just curious about… bigger sizes."

You nodded mischievously, your mind formulating a plan to help Jennie in a way that would surpass her wildest expectations. "It's not superficial at all, Jennie. It's okay to have those thoughts and desires. In fact, I believe I can assist you with that."

Jennie looked up at you, her eyes filled with hope. "You can? How?"

"Well," you began, leaning back in your chair and smiling warmly. "As a specialist therapist, I have some unique methods at my disposal. One of which is hypnosis, a favourite amongst my regular clients."

Jennie's eyes widened in surprise. "Hypnosis? Like making people forget their names and sleep from a snap of your fingers?"

You chuckled and reassured her. "That's the kind of hypnosis you see in shows, meant for entertainment. However, the hypnosis I use is a powerful tool for therapy. It allows people to access their subconscious minds, making them more receptive to suggestions and open to new experiences."

"So, you're saying you're going to hypnotise me?" Jennie asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

"Yes," you replied confidently. "Under hypnosis, I can help you explore your deepest desires, release your inhibitions and pent-up feelings, and even potentially enhance your future sexual experiences."

Jennie's eyes sparkled with excitement and nervousness. "That sounds… intriguing. But what if I get stuck in hypnosis forever?"

You smiled "That's a common misconception. Hypnosis is a natural state we all experience daily, like when you're so focused on a task that you lose track of time. You always remain in control, even in a hypnotic state."

"Oh," Jennie said, looking slightly relieved. "So, how will you actually hypnotise me?"

"I'll guide you into a relaxed state, and then I'll make suggestions to your subconscious mind," you explained. "Your conscious mind might not recall everything, but your body and subconscious will respond accordingly."

"And you're confident this could help me?" Jennie asked, filled with hope.

"I'm sure it will," you assured her. "Now, are you ready to give it a try?"

Jennie took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, let's do it."

"Wonderful," you say, your voice calm and soothing. "Just relax and focus on my voice. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths…" Jennie followed your instructions, her eyelids gently closed as she inhaled and exhaled slowly.

"That's it," you continued, your voice low and hypnotic. "With each breath, you're relaxing more and more. Your body is becoming heavy, and your mind is calm and serene. You're safe and secure here, and your subconscious mind is opening up, ready to receive my suggestions." Jennie's breathing slowed, and her body sank into the plush couch.

"Now, Jennie," you continued "Listen closely to my words. You won't remember this conversation, but your mind and body will obey the following commands. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Jennie whispered, her voice dreamy and distant.

"Good," you say, filled with satisfaction and mischief. "From this moment on, you will be deeply aroused by my presence. The sound of my voice will make your pussy wet, and the very thought of me will make your heart race with desire. You will crave my touch, my kiss, and the feeling of my body against yours."

Jennie's body reacted to your words, her arousal was evident from the quickening pace of her breaths.

You continued "Your body is mine to command, you will become my obedient sex slave, eager to please me and able to fulfil your deepest desires. You will do anything I ask without hesitation, and your pleasure will be heightened by your submission to me."

Jennie moaned softly, her hands unconsciously moving to her thighs as her body responded to your words.

"You are mine, Jennie, my sexy and obedient slave," you whispered.

Finally, you instruct "When I snap my fingers, you will slowly open your eyes and be released from this hypnotic state. And when you look at me, you will be fully under my control."

*Snap*

Jennie's eyelids fluttered open, her eyes filled with desire as she gazed at you.

"Good girl," your voice laced with lust. "Now, stand up and undress for me, slowly and seductively."

Jennie rose gracefully from the couch, her movements fluid as she began to remove her clothing, piece by piece. Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled her top off, which revealed the alluring black bra beneath. After letting her top fall to the floor, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her jeans, slowly slid it down her legs, and stepped out of it to stand before you in nothing but her provocative black lingerie set.

She then reached behind to unclasp her bra, freeing her full, round, and perky breasts. Her nipples, already erect and sensitive with arousal, caused her to moan softly after being exposed to the cool air. Her hands then moved to the thin straps of her panties, slowly pulling them down her thighs, over her knees, and onto the floor, which left her completely nude.

Your eyes feasted on her slutty body, taking in her creamy skin, ample breasts, and freshly shaved pussy. "Beautiful," you murmur, your voice thick with desire. "Now, come here, slave."

Jennie obeyed, walking over to stand before you.

"Turn around, I want to see that gorgeous ass" you exclaimed dominantly.

Jennie turned, presenting her firm, heart-shaped ass to you. Her cheeks clenched slightly as she felt your gaze on her, and a rush of excitement washed over her at being so exposed and vulnerable.

"Such a perfect view," you praised, as you reached out to gently caress her ass cheeks. "Now, bend over."

Jennie complied, bending at the waist and holding her calves. Her legs were slightly apart, exposing her swollen pussy lips that glistened with arousal.

You stood up and moved behind her, your hands roamed over her ass cheeks before they slipped between her legs to stroke her wet folds. "So wet already," you murmured. "You've been a very naughty girl, Jennie."

Jennie moaned softly, her head hanging down as she reveled in the sensations coursing through her body from your touch.

"Now, I'm going to give you a spanking. Count each strike out loud and thank me for it." you firmly instructed.

"As you command, Master," Jennie whispered, her body trembling with anticipation.

You raised your hand and brought it down sharply on Jennie's left cheek, leaving a bright red handprint. "One, thank you, Master," Jennie gasped, her voice laced with pleasure and pain.

You delivered another sharp smack, this time to her right cheek. "Two, thank you, Master," Jennie cried out filled with excitement.

You continued the spanking, alternating cheeks and landing each smack with force and precision, causing her ass cheeks to glow a rosy red. "Three, thank you, Master," Jennie chanted, her body trembling. "Four, thank you, Master. Five, thank you, Master. Six, thank you..."

"Enough," you exclaimed. "Now, get on your knees and show me how much you've craved a big cock."

Jennie immediately dropped to her knees, her eyes locked with yours as she reached for the waistband of your trousers. With deft fingers, she unbuckled your belt and pulled both your trousers and boxers down revealing your 12-inch erect cock, already pulsating with desire.

Jennie's eyes widened at the sight of your thick, veiny shaft, the head moistened with pre-cum. It was the biggest cock she had ever seen, and the thought of taking it inside her made her pussy clench with anticipation. A wicked smile crossed her face as she imagined the humiliation her Asian ex-boyfriends would feel if they saw her now, their tiny penises no match for the monster she was about to take.

Jennie took your command to heart, as she leaned forward, her full lips wrapped around the head of your throbbing cock. Her eyes locked with yours, a silent communication of her eagerness to please you and a hidden desire to prove her worth against the small cocks of her past.

Inch by inch, she slowly began lowering her mouth further down your shaft. She attempted to deepthroat you, her tongue swirling and her throat muscles relaxing to accommodate your impressive length and girth. The sensation was euphoric; her warm, wet mouth enveloped you, and her soft tongue massaged your sensitive underside. You finally felt her nose nudge your pubic bone as she took you fully, her eyes watering as she struggled to push through her gag reflex.

'That's it, Jennie,' you encouraged, your voice hoarse with desire. 'Take me all the way down, show yourself that you can deal with a real man.'

Jennie moaned around your length, the vibrations sent shivers down your spine. She withdrew slightly, only to plunge back down, her lips forming a tight seal around you. Her hands grasped your thighs, her fingernails dug into your skin as she took control of the rhythm, her head bobbing up and down at a steady pace. Her mind pictured the pathetic men she once dated, their small packages were no comparison to your mighty cock and each movement of her head was a silent victory over her past unsatisfying encounters.

The sight of her, on her knees, mouth stretched around your girth, was a powerful aphrodisiac. You placed your hands on her head, threading your fingers through her silky hair, and guided her movements. 'Such a good girl,' you praised 'But now, I want to fuck that beautiful mouth, and show you what you've been missing.'

With a nod, Jennie understood your desire and her craving for submission. She released your cock from her mouth, her lips glistening with saliva and pre-cum. You then guided her to the edge of the couch, and positioned her on her knees, her hands resting on the cushions. Jennie, filled with anticipation, opened her mouth, inviting you in and ready to prove her worth.

You grasped your shaft, placing the tip of your cock onto her waiting lips. With a firm thrust, you entered her mouth, and her tongue flicked across the sensitive underside of your cock, sending waves of pleasure through your body. The sensation was electric, her warm mouth enveloped you and her full lips caressed your shaft. You began to face fuck her, your hips snapped forward and back, each thrust pushing deeper and deeper into her throat.

'Look at me, Jennie,' you commanded 'I want to see your eyes as I use that pretty mouth and make you feel the power of a real man.'

Jennie's gaze met yours, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of pleasure and triumph. She moaned around your length, the vibrations intensifying the pleasure. Your pace quickened, with each motion a testament to your lust and her newfound purpose.

'That's it, my obedient sex slave,' you growled. 'Take it all in, let me use that gorgeous slutty mouth and show the world that you were made for bigger and better cocks.'

Jennie's response was a guttural sound of bliss, her body trembled as she surrendered to the primal act, her mind filled with images of her exes' tiny cocks in comparison to your massive member.

You increased your pace even further, your hips were a blur hammering into and out of her mouth. 'You're doing so well, Jennie, I want to feel your throat tighten around me as I cum. Show me how much you've craved big cock.' you exclaimed.

Jennie's eyes widened at your words, her body tensed in anticipation. You grasped her hair tighter, guiding her head in a synchronous rhythm that enhanced your deep thrusts. The room filled with the sounds of her sucking and slurping, and your heavy breathing as you neared your climax.

'That's it you whore, suck me dry, swallow my cum, and prove to yourself that you were made for more than those pathetic small cocks.' you grunted.

As you exploded, filling Jennie's mouth with your hot seed, her throat constricted around your shaft, milking every last drop. Her eyes never left yours, and you see her struggle to swallow the copious amount of cum you released.

Withdrawing your cock, it glistened with a mixture of saliva and cum. You then pulled her to the couch, her body still trembling from the intensity of the experience. 'Lie back' you instructed 'It's time for you to truly feel me.'

Jennie, her body flushed with arousal, followed your command and offered herself completely to your pleasure and to the fulfilment of her fantasies. She laid on the couch and spread her legs, a wanton invitation. You positioned yourself between her thighs, your eyes locking with hers as you placed your throbbing cock to her glistening core. 'Are you ready for this, my eager slave? Are you ready to finally experience fullness?'

'Please, Master,' she pleaded, her hands reaching up to pull you closer. 'I need your cock inside me. I need to feel you, all of you, and all at once.'

The desperation in her voice sent a jolt of dominance through you, and with a growl, you rammed your cock forward, claiming the depths of her pussy in one smooth motion. Her eyes flew open at the sensation of being filled so completely and perfectly, her mind briefly flashed to the disappointing encounters with her exes. 'Oh, my God,' she yelled, her back arching off the couch, her hands gripping the cushions as if to anchor herself during this overwhelming moment. 'It's so big! I've never felt so full!'

You paused, giving her a moment to adjust to your size, to the feeling of being stretched and broken in, and to the realisation that she could never go back. Then, with a primal need, you began to move, your hips snapped forward and backward, each thrust deliberate and powerful. You filled her again and again, each stroke erasing the memories of her previous sexual experiences.

'You like that, don't you? You like being fucked by a cock that destroys your tight Asian pussy, that makes you forget those insignificant little boys' you roared, pounding into her.

'Yes, Master!' she cried out. 'It's incredible! I've never felt so full, so completely satisfied! I was so wrong to settle for anything less!'

Her words spurred you on, and you showed no mercy as you drove into her, your hands roughly gripped her slender hips, leaving faint marks on her porcelain skin. Jennie's body became a canvas of pleasure, her breasts swayed, her nipples stood erect and tight, and her tight belly bulged with each thrust. Instinctively, her long legs wrapped around your waist, her ankles locked behind your back as you continued to thrust. The slight change in angle sent new waves of pleasure through her, and she cried out, her voice echoing off the walls.

'You feel that, slut? You feel how deep I can go, how much more pleasure I can give you' you asked.

'Master, I feel it! I feel your enormous cock throbbing inside me! I never want to go back!' Jennie groaned, her body moving in sync with yours, meeting your thrusts with her own.

You leaned down, capturing her mouth in a kiss as you continued to ram into her. The kiss was fierce, your tongue mimicked the rhythm of your hips and claimed her soul. Jennie responded with equal fervor, her hands grasped your hair and pulled you in as if she couldn't get enough of your taste, as if she had been starving for this kind of passion and pleasure.

You broke the kiss, sat up, and roughly grabbed her legs, spreading them as wide as they could go. Continuing to pound deep into her, Jennie's eyes rolled upwards, her mouth gaped open and her tongue hung outwards. She revealed her slutty ahegao face and it was a sight to behold. Her body and core began to clench around you, and you could feel her pleasure building to an intense peak "I'm close, Master!"

You suddenly pulled out, releasing your cock from her pussy's tight hold. "Not yet, my little slave, ride me and show me how much you crave this superior cock!" you commanded.

With a fluid motion, Jennie pushed you onto your back and rose, her body a vision of newfound confidence. Placing her hands on your chest for support, she then straddled your lap and roughly impaled herself with your cock. Taking control, she moved her hips in a forceful yet sensual rhythm, maximising her pleasure.

You grasped her hips and repositioned your own so that she could take you even deeper. Playfully, you encouraged her "That's it, Jennie, take all of me, fuck yourself on my cock like the whore you are."

Following your encouragement, Jennie continued to move her body up and down, moaning with a sound of pure satisfaction and triumph.

Seeing her ample breasts bounce, teased you to taste them. You placed her hands on your shoulders and, as she leaned forward, captured her right nipple between your lips. You sucked and teased her firm nipple as she continued to ride you. "Oh, yes! I love how my Master sucks on my sensitive tits!" she cried out, her body trembling.

After a teasing final suckle, you released her right nipple and focused on the left. This time, you playfully bit down and pulled her nipple with your teeth, causing her to moan with a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Feeling satisfied, you freed her tits and instructed her "Now, my eager slave, turn around and bounce that firm ass on my cock."

Jennie, her body shiny with sweat, complied and turned facing away from you. She got into a squatting position and lowered herself onto your shaft, her movements were slow and deliberate, and her back arched as she took you in, inch by inch. Her hands gripped your legs, her fingers dug into your flesh as she set a new rhythm.

"That's it, Jennie," you praised, your voice a low rumble. "Enjoy being filled and stretched out by a real man."

Jennie moaned and started to quicken her pace, her body moved in a way that showcased her surrender to her desires and the superiority of your size. As her rhythm intensified, you had the perfect view of her ass. It took the whole of your length and jiggled each time she slammed into you.

Soon, her head fell backwards, her long silky black hair cascading down her back as she acquiesced to the sensations that coursed through her. "Master! I'm so close again! Your cock… it's taking me to places I've never been with those small cock boys!" she exclaimed in ecstasy.

"That's it, let go! Cum for me while you ride my big hard cock!" you shouted.

Jennie's body shook violently, her walls clenched around you as she surrendered to her orgasm. "I'm coming, Master!" she screamed, her nails digging into your legs as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm, your hands engulfed her small waist, supporting her in a sensual rhythm.

As her climax began to subside, you moved her to the edge of the couch and positioned her on all fours, her hands and knees sinking into the cushions. Almost instinctively, her back arched and offered a stunning view of her glistening pussy. "Now, my obedient slave, it's my turn." you laugh "I'm gonna break your mind and pussy."

Jennie, her body still heaving with overwhelming pleasure, could only nod in submission. You stood behind her and tightly held onto her hips with both hands. Using the tip of your erect cock, you teased her wet folds and, with a single powerful thrust, rammed deep inside her.

Before she could even comprehend what had happened, you pulled out fully and slammed right back into her. You continued to roughly jackhammer her tight wet Asian pussy, stretching her out and bruising her cervix. "You like that, Jennie? You like being taken from behind, being reminded that you're a submissive little slut that has outgrown those Asian boys?" you exclaimed.

"Yes, Master!" she cried out in pain. "Take me, own me, I've chosen you and the path of true pleasure!" She began to move her body in sync with yours, her hands tightly gripping the cushions as she took you in. Jennie's surrender was absolute, her body was a vessel for your pleasure and your dominance over her was complete.

Suddenly, her arms and legs gave in, releasing your hard cock and leaving her prone on the couch. Despite this, you quickly repositioned yourself above her and forcefully pushed your length back into her, filling her once more.

"Fuck Jennie! Your pussy is so tight in this position." you praised emphatically. Jennie moaned with a mixture of pleasure and exhaustion "I love it, Master! I love how you use my pussy as your personal fleshlight, fucking it roughly into oblivion!"

As you continued to drive into her, you felt the coil of your pleasure tighten. You leaned down, your mouth close to her ear, your breath hot against her skin, and whispered a command. "That's right, slave. And now, I want you to come for me again before I finally finish deep inside of you."

Jennie's body reacted to your erotic words, her pussy clenched around your shaft as she pleaded. "Please, Master, fill me with your cum! I want to feel your cum inside me, claiming me as yours! I choose you, and I'll never look back!"

Your control began to slip as her words, her submission, and the tight heat of her body pushed you closer to the edge. Your movements became wilder, your pace became a frenzied rhythm, and each thrust became a statement of your mastery over her. "You're mine, Jennie," you growled, your voice raw with passion and lust. "Every part of you, every scream, every moan, belongs to me!"

"Oh, Master! Fuck me deeper, harder, and faster!" she cried out, her body moving in perfect harmony with yours, her pleasure once again building to an intense peak.

With a powerful final thrust, you surrendered to your pleasure and roared as you released your hot seed deep within her, marking her as your property. At the same time, Jennie's body convulsed as she too surrendered to her climax, her walls milking your shaft and her pleasure consuming her.

For minutes, you remain joined, your bodies slick with sweat and the evidence of your shared pleasure. Jennie's breath was ragged, her eyes glazed with satisfaction as she turned her head to look at you, a satisfied smile on her lips.

"That was…" she began, her voice triumphant and exhausted. "I've never experienced anything like that. I feel like I've finally found what I've been missing."

You returned a warm smile, a sense of victory filling you. "It's been my pleasure to guide you, Jennie. And this is just the beginning of your journey into true fulfilment."

Finally getting up, you both slowly got dressed. However, Jennie's curiosity got the better of her, her mind still buzzing from the heavenly experience. "But how did I… I mean, I don't remember agreeing to all of this. It's like I had no control, but I loved it."

You laughed with an insidious glint in your eyes, a glint of a master who had hypnotised his client to become his sex slave. "The mind is powerful, Jennie. As you can tell from first-hand experience, even if you don't remember it, hypnosis can still do wonders for the mind and body."

Jennie nodded understandingly "So, it's almost like, I was… under a spell?" "A spell of pleasure that frees you, one might say," you smoothly replied "And it's a spell I'm sure you'll want to be under again, to continue exploring the path you've chosen today."

Jennie smiled lustfully, her body still humming with the afterglow of her intense orgasms and her mind already imagining the possibilities of future sessions. "I can't deny that it was… an eye-opening experience. I want to explore more, to leave no stone unturned in my pursuit of pleasure and fulfilment."

You held the door open for her, a silent promise in your eyes, a promise of further guidance and pleasure. "Until next time, Jennie. A world of true satisfaction awaits, and you've only just begun to scratch the surface."

As Jennie stepped out, you allowed yourself a moment of gratification, knowing that the hypnosis had worked its magic and Jennie had now become your obedient personal sex slave. You now wondered about your other clients and the possibilities of guiding them to a similar outcome. The thought was tantalising, and you knew that this was just the beginning of a journey into the dark and devious world of hypnotic domination.

[peachesofteal]

Tip of my Tongue - Azriel/single mom reader

He puts you out of his mind. 

Or tries to, at least. His thoughts stray, at night, in quiet moments, and he catches himself thinking about you, wondering if he should have done more, pushed harder, tried to get you to talk to him even though he understands your reluctance. It didn’t surprise him how you avoided his eyes, turned away. 

Illyrians both hate and fear him, and Azriel despises them in return.

Cauldron only knows how you may have suffered in their hands. 

It’s not his business. 

Illyrians are not unwelcome in Velaris, it is your right to live in the city if you so choose. 

Let it go.  

His effort is in vain, crumbling only two days later when he comes across you on the street, half open bag spilled out across the sidewalk. 

Leave her be, it’s not your business, not your-

You’re crouched, baby in one arm while trying to gather up your things with another, and without thinking, he swoops down at your side, picking them up quicker than you can protest. “Are you alright?” 

This time, there’s no opportunity for you to cut him off, or run. He’s holding a stuffed rabbit in his hand. 

“Yes, I’m…” you reach for the toy, rising to stand at the same time, and blood rushes in his ears. “We’re okay, thank you.” You watch him carefully, but for some reason, less guarded than that day in the market, a little more brave, open. 

“I’m Azriel.” You probably already know that, he’s sure. 

You bite your bottom lip and practically whisper your own in return before bouncing the baby on your hip. “This is Luna. Or Lulu.” You cup her cheek, and her head tips back, wonder in her eyes as she stares at you. 

It does something to him, breaks a dam of emotion inside his heart, warmth flooding through his body from fingers to toes, and his voice is rough when he speaks.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thanks, she’s a handful.” You hoist her higher, wincing. “And heavy. Aren’t you, Lu?” You smile, but it barely touches your eyes, their corners tight with stress. 

He wants to know why, wants to know you- 

wants to fix it. 

“Thanks for,” you gesture to the bag with your free hand, “helping. And for yesterday, too. You didn’t have to.”

“He was ripping you off.” He’s stern, almost reproachful, and you avert your eyes, guilt pinging through his bones as a result. He shouldn’t expect you to be able to hold your own in a city who undoubtedly turns their nose up at you. You’re vulnerable here, to no fault of your own. He shouldn’t chastise you for it, so he switches tactics. “Do you live in the city?” You nod. 

“We’ve been here for a few weeks.” You shift uneasily. There’s so much left unsaid, and he wants to peel away the layers hiding it all, dig to the bottom and learn every bit of it. 

Of you. 

“Which village?” Your gaze turns bleak and then clears, clouds revealing the sun. 

“Stoneguard.” His control is the only thing that smothers his surprise. Stoneguard. 

No wonder you were so tense in the Palace. No wonder you practically ran away. 

It’s an insular northern village with its own camp, positioned deep in the mountains, sheltered by rock and forest. One of the most brutal, and backwards, one of few still left unchanged. The miniscule progress happening in Windhaven and Ironcrest is still progress, but it doesn’t reach the more isolated villages or their camps. Rhys’ and their efforts to corral them, change them, have been in vain for centuries. They subscribe to the traditional practices, brutality and clipping, abuse running rampant without care. 

You grimace, like you can read his mind, and another thought occurs, striking his soul with dread. 

How did you get here? You have no wings. Did you walk, all this way, with Luna? Alone? 

“I have to get going,” you break through his spiral with an apologetic glance, “she’ll need to go down for a nap here soon.” As if she insists on making your point, Luna’s lashes flutter, eyes struggling to stay open. 

“Right, of course.” He should let you go, should be satisfied by your answers, but the brief interaction only leaves him wanting more. Leave her be, leave her be, leave her- “Have you seen much of Velaris?” You blink, and shake your head. “I could… show you around, if you’d like.” Luna hiccups, a high pitch frequency akin to a squeak, and a smile tugs at his mouth, trying to pull it upward into something genuine. It’s a hard fought battle for a male who rarely does such a thing. You stare at him, considering, examining, like you’re trying to peer inside his soul and determine if he’s to be trusted, and then you sigh. 

“Okay.”

[ofbatsandballads]

Yay! I’m so glad you take requests. Feel free to decide if you want to write this or not, it’s fine either way :)

So, I was thinking about Jason dating civilian!reader, and her coming home all disheveled and horrified. Since she knows about him being Red Hood, she can confide in him. She had just killed someone for the first time, whether it was an accident, self defense or whatever, you decide.

I was just wondering how Jason would handle this situation since usually he’s the one doing the killing.

Thank you <3

oh, this is amazing food for thought. I actually think he’d be the very best person to come to in such a situation because he has experience with killing. who’s gonna understand you better than him? literally nobody. had something similar to this in my drafts but now my mind is whirling in a whole host of directions. excellent prompt, nonnie!

jason todd x f!reader. warnings include graphic depictions of violence and killing (in self defense), attempted and failed sexual assault, the aftermath of both events (reader’s in shock), hurt/comfort. this one’s got heavier subject matter so please do mind the warnings, folks. i did way too much research of the Gotham Knights map for this, but it’s my favorite depiction of the city so so be it. also reader and Jason live in the Belfry bc i said so (personal hc that i may or may not elaborate on some time). and one last thing! the romanized Arabic at the end is “حياتي ” which translates to “my life”. I love the idea that Jason picked up Arabic terms of endearment from Talia calling Bruce just about every one she could.

Jason wakes up to soft afternoon sunlight shining on his face. He grumbles out a gravelly hum and scrunches up his face in protest against being awakened when he was sleeping so nicely. He reaches out to find the comforting warmth of his beloved beside him, to pull you in and bury his face into your hair so he can hide from the morning for a bit longer.

All he finds are cold sheets and an empty pillow.

He bolts upright. Something’s wrong. You never, never wake up before him. He doesn’t even register the way that the sudden abundance of light stings his eyes. He takes stock of his surroundings, his training executing on autopilot. The open layout of the Belfry lets him get his bearings in seconds. He doesn’t see you anywhere from the bird’s eye view of your loft bedroom. There’s no smell of food in the kitchen nor any mess that would indicate you’d been working in there. The living room space, fully visible below, is empty too. The only enclosed space in your home, the bathroom that’s just around the corner from your bedroom, is dead quiet. No running water, no sweet singing, no familiar coughing from swallowed toothpaste. And without so much as leaving your bed, Jason’s already come to a conclusion that sends his heart pounding and dries his throat. You’re not here.

He’s up and grabbing the 9mm taped under your bedside table in the span of a few breaths. He moves through your home methodically, like he’s clearing one of Gotham’s criminal hideouts. There’s no sign of a struggle. Nothing’s been disturbed. He’s not surprised by this—barring Wayne Manor, the Belfry is the most secure building in Gotham. That’s precisely why Jason had moved you both here once you decided to live together. He checks the coffee table and sees that your phone and wallet are gone. A different type of fear takes over now. One that makes his heart ache. What if you’ve finally had enough, finally seen that he’s not good enough for you, not worth sticking around for? It makes him sick. He swallows hard and tries to clear the blistering thought from his head. No, that’s not you. You’re not cruel. You’re kind and gentle and loving. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. And you wouldn’t hurt him.

The sight of gears turning in his periphery catches his attention. He sees the cables pulling and the security panel go green, and he’s running to the elevator doors damn near ready to pry them open. He hastily tucks the 9mm into the waistband of his pajama pants, easily within reach if he needs it. Relief floods him when the huge metal doors grind open and he sees your pretty face on the other side. Then his heart drops when he realizes that that pretty face is scraped and splattered with blood.

Your hair is tangled and wet, dripping dirty water down your neck and staining the bright red of his your favorite hoodie. Your hands, which shake as they reach blindly towards him, are stained crimson and battered too. But it’s your eyes that haunt him. You look broken.

“Jay,” you croak out, unable to summon anything but a plea for the one person who can keep you safe.

The tears fall from your eyes at the same time that you collapse into Jason’s arms. He drags you inside and locks down the Belfry. Jason wants to panic but feels a strange sense of calm about himself. As loathe as he’d be to admit it, he finds himself falling into Bruce’s habit of assessment and action.

“Baby, what happened?” he asks, voice steady and assured.

You don’t even hear him. You’re digging your hands into his shirt, clinging on to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth. He may very well be. He feels you going rigid and cold and he knows he has to get you stable before you descend further into shock.

“Listen to me,” he says firmly, adding on and enunciating your name for emphasis.

That sparks some semblance of lucidity. Jason hasn’t called you by your name in months, much preferring you be his baby or his sweetheart or his doll, or simply his. If it jars you back to reality, so be it.

“I need you to tell me what happened,” he demands gently.

It all pours out of you like a flood.

You’d woken up early by chance this afternoon. Normally you’d just close your eyes and snuggle closer to Jason to catch a couple more hours of sleep, but you wanted to do something nice for him. So you’d gotten up and gone to Lemay’s Flower Emporium in Gotham Heights. You’d bought him the prettiest bouquet of red and pink roses, so big that you had to hold on to it with both arms. The taxi ride from the Heights back to Coventry Station went fine. You were almost home. So close that you could see the clock tower where your heart was sleeping peacefully.

Then you stopped at Commerce Avenue Station. You just wanted to get him some pastries from the little bakery tucked away on 3rd Street that you both love. It was a decent walk; you knew that. You also knew that Jason wouldn’t want you to go out of your way by yourself. But it was morning and you were a grown woman and you could handle yourself, right? Well, that’s what you thought until a pair of hands clamped down on your shoulders and yanked you violently into a side alley.

Jason had prepared you for something like this. You’d spent countless evenings with him teaching you self defense techniques in the training area of your home. None of it mattered because the man that had you by the shoulders slammed you so hard into the brick wall that all your thoughts went hazy. Before you could regain your footing, you were shoved to the ground. The bitter sting of your palms scraping open pierced through the fog, as did the crushing weight of the vile man on top of you. Fear shot through you as the man started tugging at his belt and you realized that this wasn’t intended to be a mugging. You tried to scream but a grimy hand clamped over your mouth, hitting your head against the ground and soaking your hair in dirty rain water and blood.

Your eyes darted around in search of someone—anyone. But no one was coming. You felt fingernails scratch against your stomach as clammy hands curled into the waistband of your sweatpants and suddenly you saw your savior. A brick from the damaged alleyway laid within reach. You didn’t even think when you grabbed it, when you swung it as hard as you could into the side of the man’s head. The corner hit his temple and he crumbled to the side. You rose to your knees and hit the man again. And again. All you could remember were Jason’s firm instructions: if someone makes it a choice of you or them, you make sure that it’s you no matter what it takes.

“I don’t r-remember anything else,” you sob into his chest. “There was so much blood, Jason. And his head—oh, God.”

Jason shushes you gently. He holds you tight in his arms like he’s terrified that if he loosens his grip even slightly, you’ll fade away on him.

“Don’t think about it, baby. You did what you needed to do. You protected yourself. I’m so proud of you.”

“I killed someone, Jason. I killed someone.”

You look at him wide eyed—afraid, horrified, guilty. No. Jason won’t have that. You will not feel guilty over some lowlife scumbag who wanted to hurt you, who probably would have killed you. Jason can’t even stomach the thought. He wants to put a bullet into whatever’s left of that predator’s head. No, the only shame in you killing that man is that you got to him before Jason could.

“I need you to listen to me,” he says, repeats your name again for emphasis. “You. Did. Nothing. Wrong.”

“Someone’s dead because of me, Jay,” you argue, gripping him tighter as your panic rises.

“Baby, do you know how many people are dead because of me?” he asks. “Far, far more than I’d ever want you to know. Do you think I’m a monster, honey? That I did something wrong?”

He knows it’s an apples to oranges comparison. But you’ve used this same tactic on him so many times that he also knows it’s effective. Every time he demeans himself for something, you ask if he’d treat you the way he treats himself for the same thing. The answer is always no.

“No!” you reply emphatically. “You protect people. You do it to keep people safe.”

“You did it to keep yourself safe.”

“But—”

“No buts. Or ifs. No ands, either, just in case you get any ideas,” he says lightly, brushing a speck of blood off your cheekbone.

You smile at his stupid little comment and he feels the tension in his body release just slightly. As long as there’s light back in your eyes for even a moment, he knows that you’ll be okay. He picks you up, lets you cling your arms around his neck and bury your face in his chest as he carries you to the bathroom upstairs. He runs you a bath and, after asking repeatedly if you were okay with it, undresses you and washes the blood and grime from your body. He wraps you in a big fluffy towel, dries and brushes your hair, and tends to your injuries before he bundles you up in his comfiest hoodie and pajama pants. He soothes you when your tears make their return and never leaves your line of sight because he knows he makes you feel safe.

The thought gnaws at him throughout the day. It outright scalds him as he lies in bed with you after deciding to skip patrol. He’s failed you. Failed to protect you, failed to ensure nothing harms a hair on your head. He’s failed at taking care of you, the one thing that matters more to him than anything else. He’s seconds away from spiraling into self hatred when your sweet voice comes calling, soft and pleading.

“Jay…please stay with me,” you say softly.

Your eyes are clear and focused again. You squeeze his waist tight where your arms are wrapped around him, like you’re physically trying to anchor him in place in your bed. The look on your face says that you know exactly where his mind was headed. You see right through him. It makes him feel more vulnerable than anything else, and it surprises him how much he loves the feeling. And Jason, as always and for eternity, can’t bring himself to deny you. So he pulls himself together and shoves all his self loathing down. He can deal with it later—you need him more right now.

“I’m right here, hayati. Not goin’ anywhere, I promise.”

He kisses you gently and feels some of that self hatred wash away when you chase after him for more goodnight kisses. He feels it dissipate even more when you fall asleep in his arms with a soft smile on your face. It’s all but forgotten as he drifts off too, safe in the knowledge that you’re here with him, that he can feel your heart beating pressed tight against his own.

[empress-ghoul]

You’ve gotten good at getting a sense for these sorts of things. A feeling in your chest, a twist in your gut, a sixth sense, if you will. You think you’d prefer your sixth sense to be seeing ghosts, rather than sensing when creepy men are going to approach you.

You just wanted a drink. It had been a long fucking day at work and you just wanted a drink without worrying about actually talking to people. That was why you sat at the end of the bar.

Maybe you should have just bought a bottle of wine on the way home. Your sixth sense had told you that going into the bar was a bad idea. At least then this guy wouldn’t be talking to you.

He was attractive at least, but you couldn’t be in less of a mood and he was practically sitting on top of you.

“Rough day?” he asked.

Your eye nearly twitched. “Something like that.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “I can tell.”

And he was rude. Cherry on top.

You rolled your eyes and shot him a glare, your lip curling slightly into a snarl. “Yeah,” you mimic. “You don’t look too hot either, asshole.”

Cash is handed to the bartender and you reach for your bag. He beats you to it, gripping the strap in an iron hold. Indignation rises. Part of you wants to wrestle it back, but the other part knows you’d just end up embarrassing yourself.

“We got off on the wrong foot,” he begins. “I’m Johnny—“

“I’m not interested. Bag. Now.”

You hold your hand out, but something tells you he’s not the type to listen.

That feeling is confirmed when he laughs. Yet another cherry on top.

“How about this; I buy you a drink and you get your bag back after?”

There’s a beat of silence where you nearly laugh. Was he serious? You’re about to ask him when he’s suddenly ordering for you and holding your bag in his lap.

You had to bargain with your tired mind, telling yourself that you were getting a free drink out of this. Frustrated, yet resigned, you sit back down.

He grins at you and your sixth sense prickles the back of your neck.

Johnny was good at talking and part of you almost felt bad. He seemed lonely. You were certain only a lonely, mildly insane person would steal a purse and buy the purse owner a drink just to have someone to talk to.

But you were lonely too. Only a lonely, mildly insane person would let him buy more drinks after getting their purse back.

You barely noticed the hand on your thigh. By the time you did, he was right in your face.

“Bonnie thing, aren’t you?” he purred.

That’s how you ended up getting tugged back to his apartment. He kept an arm around your waist and your bag in his hand the entire walk. Right outside the door, when his hand was on the doorknob, you realized how bad of an idea this was.

One night stands weren’t exactly your thing, especially not on a weeknight. You had a little bit of dignity, after all.

Plus, your sixth sense practically vibrated in your chest to tell you to turn and run. But suddenly the door was open and he was pushing you inside.

The door shut and locked behind you both, and suddenly you were standing in front of a wall of a man. Your throat tightened when you felt Johnny’s arms around your waist, trapping you in place.

“What’d you think, LT?” Johnny asked, squeezing you tighter.

He sounded so eager, so hopefully.

You stared up at the man in front of you. He looked…bored? Almost uninterested. Similar to a wolf who caught a meal too easily.

Despite being tipsy on the walk from the bar to here, you were suddenly stone cold sober and frozen in place.

A massive hand gripped your jaw, tilting your head up. A calloused thumb brushed over your bottom lip, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to scream. Only tremble as Johnny rubbed a stubbly cheek against your soft one.

“This the one you told me ‘bout?” the enormous man asked.

Something hard pressed against the fat of your ass as Johnny smiled. “Yeah, the one from the train,” he preened, clearly proud of himself. “Can we keep her?”

Maybe you should have just bought a bottle of wine on the way home.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

lunch break

Summary: Joel forgot his lunch at home. When you get to his work to bring it to him, he has you for lunch instead.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.1k

Raiting: E

Warnings: established relationship, no outbreak, breeding kink like woah, smut (unprotected sex, public sex, car sex) dirty talk, a little bit of exhibitionism, fluff too I guess

A/N: look, I don't know, this just happened, okay?

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

This wasn’t supposed how you thought bringing lunch to Joel would end.

It was supposed to be a quick in and out to the job site, bringing him the lunch he had forgotten before getting back home in time for Sarah to get back from school and take her to the dentist. You had taken the whole day off especially for that because you knew how scared she was to go to the dentist and Joel couldn’t take the day off. 

The project Joel was currently working on was almost a 45 minute drive somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Apparently some billionaire had bought the whole land and was now building a luxury hotel, Miller constructions first big contract they had won. 

It were long and exhausting hours but Joel did it all with a smile. 

Sure, one on one time with him had gotten less and less but you were in it for the long haul with him. So long that you had moved into his place earlier in the year. So long that you had talked about having a baby together. 

Something that very much took the backroad since this project started a couple months ago. Or so you thought as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, Joel towering over you in the dusty bed of his truck as he pumped his thick cock into you with deep and long strokes, making it hard to keep quiet. 

You weren’t even sure how this happened. 

One moment you walked towards the three containers that had been set up for all the workers, walking towards Joel who was sitting with his back towards you, the next moment he had you under him in his truck bed, panties pushed to the side under the summer dress you had been wearing, making enough room for his cock to fill you, him not having even pulled off his jeans, only pushing it down far enough to free his cock.  

„Not gonna let me hear you, huh?“ He teased, voice low as he leaned in, his lips kissing up your neck, steadily thrusting his cock into you. 

„Don’t want your people to hear,“ you whimpered, one hand in his hair, to keep his mouth right where it was as he sucked softly on that one spot on your neck he knew drove you insane. You crossed your legs behind his back, moaning at the changed angle he was filling you. 

„So fucking sexy,“ he grunted, kissing down towards your collarbone, his fingers pulling at the front of your dress just so he could free one of your nipples, his lips closing around it immediately after, sucking harshly. 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent cry, head thrown back as you looked up into the blue sky above the tree his car was parked beneath. 

Joel was dirty and sweaty, the shirt he had left the house with this morning replaced by a white wife beater that was clinging to his sweaty body. Sweat was dripping down his neck and fuck you don’t think you have ever been more turned on. 

He nibbled on your nipple and you pulled at his hair. 

„Can’t wait till these are full of milk,“ he mumbled against your skin as he kissed himself up your body, nose brushing over your skin as his hips slapped against yours, shaking the whole truck. 

„Full of milk for the baby I’m gonna fuck into you,“ he said, eyes on you before he kissed you deeply, tongue diving into your mouth while he fucked you even deeper. 

You could hear some men laughing in the not so far distance, and you gasped as you remembered just where you were. Were you let Joel have his way with you. You clenched around his cock and he moaned against your lips. 

„Need you to cum for me, baby,“ his forehead came to rest against yours as he fucked into you. 

„Need you to cum so I can fuck my cum so deep inside of you, it’ll take. Gonna make you a mama,“ he murmured, and you gasped. 

„Fuck, Joel,“ you moaned. 

„You want that? Want me to keep you full of my cum?“ He groaned and you nodded.

„I want that. Want you inside me all the time,“ you whined and he groaned a low fuck against your ear as he buried his face against your neck. You wrapped your arms behind his back, one of your hands buried in his sweaty hair.

"Gonna look so good with my baby inside of you. Not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you once you start to show,“ he whispered against your ear and you shuddered. 

„Cum for me baby,“ he sucked on your earlobe. 

„Cum for me so I can pump you full of my cum. Full of my baby,“ he groaned and you clamped down on him, cumming hard. 

„Oh fuck,“ he groaned when he felt you come, following you almost immediately, moaning against your ear as he came, spilling inside of of you, pumping you full with his cum. 

Both out of breath you just stayed like this, for how long you didn’t know. Could be seconds, minutes or hours, you weren’t sure as you held him in your arms, feeling his warm breath against your neck as he laid on top of you. 

He knew how much you loved having him on top of you. 

You brushed your fingers through his hair, a content smile sneaking to your face. 

„Where did that come from?“ You asked after a while and he sat himself up a little so he could look at you. 

„I know you’re ovulating,“ he said and you raised one eyebrow, intrigued at him knowing that.  

„And I’m just really fucking horny for you,“ he said like it was the most normal thing, making you giggle. He chuckled, smiling widely at you before he kissed you softly. 

„Love you,“ you mumbled against his lips. 

„Love you more,“ he mumbled back. 

You were already driving back down the dirt road when Joel made his way back to the construction site, trying to glare at the very obvious smirks and winks he received from his colleagues. 

But who the fuck was he kidding?

He’d go through all the teasing in the world to have a lunch break like that every day. 

It was hours later that he realised, he never actually ate anything.

[evermoreness]

hi lovely!! i had a random idea for a fic where reader is harry’s kindergarten teacher and he lets it slip to you that single dad james thinks she’s pretty? im just imaging a little 5 year old letting that information slip like it’s the most casual thing in the world and meanwhile james is dying of embarrassment hahahha. i just thought it would be cute :)

— This idea is so cute! Thanks for sharing with me, hope you like it! @iloveremmy

secret crush | james potter

pairing: james potter x muggle!reader

summary: dad!james is definitely ready to love again after some time, he just didn't think it would be harry's kindergarten teacher.

obs: feel free to send any requests!

masterlist

The small classroom was filled with laughter, crayons, and the chaotic energy only a group of five-year-olds could create. The walls were covered in colorful drawings, some resembling actual objects and others looking more like abstract masterpieces only a parent could pretend to understand.

At the front of the room stood y/n, the most beloved teacher in the entire kindergarten. She had a natural warmth about her, making every child feel special. She was also quick-witted and funny, always finding a way to make the most mundane things exciting. Her students adored her.

And at the center of it all, sitting on one of the tiny chairs like he was some kind of prince, was Harry Potter.

Harry was an interesting child—smart, playful, and with a sass level that could rival a teenager. He had a mop of messy black hair that never seemed to stay put, big green eyes that sparkled with mischief, and a personality far too charming for a five-year-old.

He had been extra sassy today, insisting he was "way too advanced" for their ABC exercises and that "Uncle Moony reads him much harder books." You had learned by now to just nod along when Harry said bizarre things like that.

You had taken a particular liking to him. Not that you played favorites (at least, not openly), but something about Harry made you want to protect him even more than the other kids. Maybe it was the fact that he was being raised by a single dad, or maybe it was the way he always looked at you with that cheeky little grin whenever he was about to say something absurd.

Right now, that cheeky grin was in full force.

"Miss y/l/n," Harry said, swinging his legs under the table as he colored.

"Yes, love?" you replied, crouching down to his level.

He leaned in as if he was about to share the most confidential secret of his life. "My dad thinks you're pretty."

You blinked.

Oh.

Oh!

You opened your mouth to respond, but Harry, apparently very pleased with himself, continued. "He says you're too young to have this many kids"

Well, you definitely held back the laughter, but as you didn't have an answer to that, you just changed subjects. You leaned over to glance at Harry’s drawing. It was a messy but clearly heartfelt attempt at a stick figure version of himself and his dad, complete with what looked like… a broomstick?

“That’s a great drawing, Harry!” you praised, ruffling his hair. “Is that you and your dad?”

Harry nodded, proudly holding up his masterpiece. “Yeah! That’s me, and that’s Daddy, and he’s flying really fast on his broom because he’s the best at Quidditch!”

Let's say Harry Potter was a really imaginative kid. He would always say some really funny stories about witches and sometimes, he would full on create new words. Like he was just doing now. You found it cute, but little did you know that it was actually all true.

You grinned. “I bet he is.”

Harry’s little legs swung as he beamed. “Yeah! And he says he used to be the best Seeker at Hogwarts! I wanna be like him when I grow up!”

“That’s a great dream,” you said, genuinely warmed by how much Harry admired his father.

James was tall, lean, and had the same messy hair as his son. He was dressed casually, but there was something effortlessly charming about him. And then there were his eyes—warm, hazel, and currently widening in horror as he realized what his son was in the middle of saying.

"And my dad also said—oh, hey, Dad!" Harry greeted, as if he hadn’t just delivered a verbal nuke seconds before.

James, who had clearly heard enough, looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. "Harry," he started, his voice a little strained, "what exactly have you been telling Miss y/l/n?"

Harry, completely unfazed, gestured at his teacher. "I was just telling her how you think she's pretty."

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. You found it cute how a grown man was becoming all flustered right now.

“I mean—” James rubbed the back of his neck. “I might have said something along the lines of you being… you know… a good teacher.”

Harry frowned. “No, you didn’t.”

James glared at his son. A warning look. A look that screamed drop it, drop it now, child.

Harry, of course, did not drop it.

James let out an awkward, nervous laugh, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Yeah, um, I don't know where he got that from—"

"You said it last night," Harry reminded him. "When you were talking to Uncle Pads and you said—"

"Okay, that's enough, kiddo!" James cut in quickly, picking up Harry like he was a sack of potatoes. His face was an interesting shade of pink now. "Time to go, say goodbye to your teacher!"

Harry, enjoying this far too much, gave you a knowing look before waving. "Bye, Miss! See you tomorrow! Oh, and it's okay! My dad only likes you a little bit."

James groaned. "Oh, for Merlin's sake—"

You, to your credit, simply gave James a bright, amused smile. "It’s fine. Kids say the funniest things."

James, still trying to compose himself, let out a breath. "Yeah. They do."

You tilted your head, studying him for a second. "Though, I have to say, you do have a very smart kid. And very honest."

James gave you a sheepish smile. "Yeah… unfortunately, he gets that from his mother."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something sad, something that made you instinctively soften your tone. "She must've been wonderful."

James nodded. "Yeah. She really was."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between them. Then, because James couldn't handle any more embarrassment today, he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Right. Well. We'll be going now. Before Harry decides to share my entire life story."

You grinned. "That’s probably a good idea. Have a good evening, Harry. James."

James hesitated for half a second, then nodded. "You too."

As he walked out, still carrying a smug-looking Harry, you couldn't help but shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself.

James Potter, huh?

This was going to be interesting.

As soon as they were outside, James crouched down and gave Harry a look of pure exasperation. “Alright, Prongslet. Why?”

Harry just grinned up at him, utterly unapologetic. “I like Miss y/n. You like Miss y/n. Uncle Padfoot said you should talk to her more. I was helping.”

James dropped his head in his hands. “You and Sirius are banned from talking to each other ever again.”

The aftermath

James Potter was dying.

Not literally—he had survived multiple Quidditch accidents, a war, and Voldemort himself—but right now, standing outside of Harry’s kindergarten classroom, he was convinced that actual death would be less painful than the secondhand embarrassment he had just experienced.

His five-year-old son, his sweet, traitorous, utterly clueless son, had just casually exposed his very real, very secret crush on Miss y/n.

He was never showing his face in that classroom again.

…Okay, that was a lie.

He’d be back tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the day after that.

Because Harry loved school, and James definitely wasn’t going to pull him out just because he got caught being a pathetic twenty-five-year-old with a schoolboy crush on his kid’s teacher.

But, Merlin’s beard, how was he supposed to look you in the eyes again?

But instead, he found himself standing there like an idiot, because—screw it—he wasn’t actually opposed to talking to you.

At first, James had been mortified, barely able to meet your eyes when he picked up his son. But as the days went by, he found himself lingering a little longer each time. It started small—asking how Harry was doing, if he was behaving (spoiler: he wasn’t), and if he was making friends.

But then your conversations stretched longer.

“So, uh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I actually wanted to talk to you about Harry.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

James nodded, trying to look serious. “Yeah. His, uh… behavior.”

You blinked, looking at Harry, who was currently playing with another student and doing absolutely nothing wrong.

“…His behavior?” you echoed.

James cleared his throat. “Yes. It’s, uh, very concerning.”

You folded your arms, clearly humoring him. “What exactly is concerning about it?”

James hesitated. “Well. You know. The talking thing.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “The talking thing?”

James sighed, knowing you weren’t buying it. “Yeah. You know. The way he just… talks. No filter. Says things. About me.”

You did laugh then, shaking your head. “James, you do realize that’s completely normal for his age, right?”

James groaned. “I was hoping you’d say there was a cure.”

You grinned. “Afraid not.”

James huffed, but there was a smile playing at his lips now. “Brilliant. Well, at least tell me—how do I make sure he doesn’t casually ruin my life every time he opens his mouth?”

You shrugged. “Sorry, but I think you’re doomed.”

James sighed dramatically. “That’s what I thought.” He glanced at Harry again, who was still happily playing, then looked back at you. “Well, I guess I should be glad he didn’t say anything too bad.”

You smirked. “Oh, no, just that you think I’m really pretty and smile a lot when you talk about me.”

James groaned. “Merlin’s sake, why would you repeat it?”

You laughed. “Because it’s funny.”

James shot her a look. “For you, maybe.”

You tilted your head, grinning. “Oh, come on, James. It’s not that bad.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that I’m going to be forced to relocate and change my name now, right?”

You snorted. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” James deadpanned. “I’ll be John Smith from now on. You’ve never met me before in your life.”

You shook your head, still laughing. “Well, John Smith, if it makes you feel any better…” you hesitated for a second, then shrugged, your voice softer. “I don’t mind what Harry said.”

James froze.

Your eyes were warm, teasing but also… something else.

And suddenly, James realized—maybe this wasn’t as embarrassing as he thought.

Maybe Harry had just given him the best excuse in the world to talk to the woman he’d been secretly crushing on.

And maybe—just maybe—he was okay with that.

For the first time that day, James grinned.

“Well then,” he said. “In that case, I think I can survive the humiliation.”

You chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”

From that day forward, James’s routine of picking Harry up from school became a little different.

At first, he told himself he was just being polite—nothing wrong with staying an extra minute or two to talk to Harry’s teacher, right? Totally normal. Every parent did that.

Except every time, those one or two minutes stretched longer.

And longer.

Until one day, he realized he was actively looking forward to pick-up time—not just to see Harry, but because he’d get to talk to you.

Getting to know each other

James had fully intended to keep his distance after the Incident—as he now called it in his head. He had absolutely not planned to linger when picking up Harry, nor did he intend to talk to you for longer than necessary. But that's not exactly what happened since they had been talking a lot lately.

"Everything good today?" James would ask, standing at the doorway.

"Harry was a little sassy during storytime," you would say, amused. "He insisted he already knew how it ended and started narrating over me."

James sighed, rubbing his temple. "Of course, he did. Did he at least get it right?"

"Surprisingly, yes," you said. "Honestly, he’s way too smart for a five-year-old."

James smirked. "He gets it from me, obviously."

"Oh, obviously," you teased, raising an eyebrow.

And then, the next day…

"Harry told me today that he was going to ‘summon his broom’ to get out of naptime."

James coughed. "Uh. Kids have wild imaginations, don’t they?"

"Mhm," you said, amused. "Though, I have to say, that’s a very specific thing to imagine."

James quickly changed the subject.

And then, the next day after that...

He found himself lingering near your desk, watching Harry shove his tiny arms into his backpack with all the grace of a rampaging hippogriff.

“So,” James started, leaning against the desk, “should I be worried about his academic future, or is struggling with backpack logistics a phase?”

You grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s a phase. I think.”

James sighed dramatically. “Merlin’s sake, that’s a relief. I was beginning to think I’d have to enroll him in some kind of Backpack Etiquette for Beginners course.”

You chuckled. “Well, I do give him stickers when he remembers to pack up neatly.”

James blinked. “That’s brilliant.”

You shrugged, smirking. “Bribery works wonders at this age.”

James laughed. “Noted.”

And just like that, their conversation stretched past the usual parent-teacher exchange.

James found himself not in a rush to leave.

You didn’t seem to mind.

And Harry, for once, didn’t interrupt with any more mortifying revelations.

A win for James.

A week later, James arrived earlier than usual and found you organizing a small shelf of children’s books.

“Expanding their literary horizons?” he asked, stepping closer.

You looked up, smiling. “Trying to. Some of them are still convinced books are just really boring building blocks.”

James smirked. “Ah, yes. The tragic underappreciation of literature.”

You chuckled. “Exactly.” you tilted your head. “Did you like reading when you were a kid?”

James shrugged. “I liked it. But I wasn’t the sit-quietly-and-read type. That was Remus.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Remus?”

“My best mate,” James explained. “Loves books. Absolute nightmare when you try to pull him away from one.”

You grinned. “Sounds like the kind of student I’d love to have.”

“Oh, absolutely,” James said. “Meanwhile, I was the kid causing problems in the back of the class.”

You pretended to gasp. “You? Causing trouble? I would never have guessed.”

James smirked. “Shocking, I know.”

You fell into easy conversation after that, sharing stories about school, books, and the different kinds of students you had over the years.

James barely noticed the time passing.

Neither did you.

"Alright, I have to ask," you said one day, arms crossed as you leaned against the doorway. "What’s up with Harry and the ‘Uncles’?"

James blinked. "What do you mean?"

"He talks about Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony constantly," you said. "Are they even real people?" you said, knowing that those names were definitely not usual. Maybe they were imaginary friends.

James tried not to laugh, he couldn't explain it to you in a detailed way, you were a Muggle after all. "Padfoot and Moony are my best mates. They are very real. It's just their nicknames. Padfoot is Sirius, Moony is Remus."

You smiled, trying to understand why they were even called that. "I swear, sometimes Harry sounds like a tiny old man when he quotes them."

James laughed. "That… yeah, that tracks. They’ve been around his whole life."

You smirked. "So, which one gives the worst advice?"

"Oh, definitely Sirius," James said immediately. "He told Harry once that he could read his mind and my poor kid spent the rest of the week scared to think"

You burst out laughing. "That’s terrible!"

"I know!" James said, grinning. "Remus had to be the voice of reason that day, convincing Harry that his uncle couldn't read his mind"

The small talk everyday was becoming a habit.

James would ask about your day, and you would roll your eyes and dramatically recount whatever chaos had ensued in your classroom—kids throwing crayons, glue disasters, the occasional crying over absolutely nothing. You were expressive, funny, and had this energy that James found… comforting.

You, in turn, asked about James—not just about Harry but about him. His work, his hobbies, things he liked. And James found himself telling you, actually enjoying your chats instead of awkwardly stumbling over his words like he thought he would.

But, of course, Harry noticed.

"Dad," Harry groaned one afternoon as James leaned against the classroom doorway, chatting away with you while other parents picked up their kids. "You’re doing it again."

James blinked down at his son. "Doing what, Prongslet?"

Harry huffed dramatically, grabbing his tiny backpack. "Talking and talking and talking."

You burst into laughter. "Oh no, Potter, you’ve been caught."

James narrowed his eyes at his son. "Maybe I like talking to your teacher, kiddo."

Harry groaned even louder, stomping toward the door. "Ugh, come on! We're always the last ones now!"

You laughed, nudging Harry’s nose playfully. "Oh, come on, am I that bad?"

Harry sighed dramatically. "No, but Daddy talks to you too much."

James cleared his throat. "Well, I just—y’know—parent stuff. Making sure you’re doing okay."

Harry squinted at him. "Uh-huh. Sure, Dad."

You smirked. "Guess I must be very interesting, huh?"

James ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "Uh… yeah. I mean, no—I mean—"

You just chuckled and waved at Harry. "See you tomorrow, little tornado."

Harry grumbled something under his breath about adults being annoying and led the way out.

James followed, but not before sneaking one last glance at you.

Getting some advice (from the professionals)

By the time a couple of weeks had passed, James knew he had to do something.

Because this? This standing-in-the-doorway-every-day-for-way-too-long thing? This was not normal behavior. He wasn’t just talking to you about Harry anymore. He liked talking to you, period.

And that? That was terrifying.

You were the first person he’d felt anything for since Lily. It wasn’t the same—Lily had been his great, big, all-consuming love. But you? You were warmth, laughter, easy conversations, and teasing smiles. And that was something.

Which meant he was going to do the scariest thing he’d done since facing off against Voldemort.

He was going to ask you out.

Sirius and Remus, of course, had opinions.

"You just gotta charm her, Prongs," Sirius said confidently, lounging on James' couch. "Lay it on thick—tell her she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, maybe throw in a ‘your eyes shine brighter than the stars’—"

Remus snorted from his chair. "Yes, James. Do that. That definitely won’t make her think you’re a lunatic."

Sirius furrowed his brows at his boyfriend "Hey! I think it worked wonders when i charmed you to like me"

Remus gave him a look "When did exactly you charmed me, pads?"

Sirius was quick to answer "Second year, of course, and it worked!"

Remus was trying not to laugh "Do you actually know that it didn't work, i just liked you back?"

Before Sirius could even snap back, his face surprised, James groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "I don’t need to charm her. I just… need to not make a fool of myself."

Sirius smirked. "Well, that’s impossible. But, hey, shoot your shot."

James was pacing his living room, gripping his hair. "I can’t do it. I can’t do it."

Sirius was looking deeply amused. "You, the James Potter, too scared to ask a woman out? This is history in the making."

Remus, sitting in an armchair, gave a long-suffering sigh. "James, it’s just coffee."

"Just coffee? Moony, I haven’t dated since Lily!" James threw his hands up. "What if she says no? What if she thinks I’m a terrible father for even thinking about dating?"

"Mate," Sirius said, sitting up. "I promise you, the last thing she’s thinking is that you’re a terrible father. She likes you."

James scoffed. "She doesn’t like me."

Sirius smirked. "Oh, yeah? Then why does she always smile at you? And laugh at your terrible dad jokes? And talk to you for an eternity?"

"That’s just—she’s nice!" James insisted.

Remus gave him a knowing look. "James. Just ask her."

James groaned. "Fine. But if I make an idiot of myself, I’m blaming both of you."

He was really going to ask you out.

Taking actions

It was a Friday afternoon. James had spent the entire day hyping himself up. This was it. No more standing around like an idiot. No more pretending he was just talking about Harry.

He was going to ask you out. Casually. Coolly. Like a totally normal, smooth person.

(He was absolutely not smooth.)

"Hey, y/n," James started as he leaned on the doorway of the classroom, trying to look relaxed.

You, who was organizing a chaotic pile of paper, looked up and smiled. "Hey, Potter. You’re right on time for the usual end-of-the-day complaints from your son."

Harry, currently sulking with his backpack, threw up his hands. "They played ring around the rosie today! Do you know how boring that is?!"

You laughed. "What, not exciting enough for you?"

"No!"

James smirked. "That’s tragic, mate."

Harry crossed his arms. "Can we go now or are you gonna talk for twenty years again?"

James cleared his throat. Now or never.

"Actually," he said, looking at you, "I was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime."

You blinked. "What?"

James internally panicked. "Casual coffee. Like—like two people, drinking coffee, talking, existing in the same space—"

You raised an amused eyebrow. "Are you asking me out?"

James wanted to die. "I—I mean—yeah? But, like, you don’t have to—"

You grinned. "James."

He swallowed. "Yeah?"

"I’d love to."

James froze. "Wait. What?"

You smirked. "I said yes, Potter. You good?"

James stared at you, processing, before a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh. Well. That’s… good. That’s great. That’s—"

Harry groaned. "Finally!"

James turned to him. "Oh, what now?!"

Harry threw his hands up. "It took you forever to ask her! I thought you were never gonna do it!"

You laughed. "Seriously?"

James groaned. "Can’t anything be a secret in this family?"

You just smirked. "Apparently not."

James, still grinning, nodded. "Alright then. Coffee it is."

And for the first time in a long time, James felt something that wasn’t just surviving. He felt happy.

[madebycloud]

If you want to, only if you want to

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: when your ex girlfriend thought you'd move on with another woman, she tried to ruin your "date." (request from @Snow0Knight0 on ao3) warnings/themes: fluff and slight angst, ex lovers, valentines, amusement park date, mordern au, jealous!jinx, isha's sister!reader, bible terms ig as a metaphors, pov switch words: 9.7k notes: kinda ooc jinx cz i think she'll go on a rampage if she's jealous 🤷‍♀️

You sit on a park bench, watching your little sister play with Jinx. Isha chases after Jinx in circles around the park while Jinx hides behind trees. You see Jinx pop her head out from behind a tree and make faces at your sister before ducking back behind the trunk. Isha giggles, then keeps running after her.

Your little sister can't wait to see Jinx again. After all, they had so much fun the last time they played together. But things aren't the same anymore because you and Jinx are no longer together. Though you can't say no to your little sister, so here you are.

Isha keeps on after Jinx, her legs running as fast as they can go. Jinx grins and sticks her tongue out as she runs backward. “You gotta keep up, kiddo!”

You pull out your phone to film your little sister. But right before you hit record, your phone starts ringing. It's your boss.

You look down at your phone screen, then back up at your little sister. She's still chasing after Jinx, giggling the whole time. You hesitate, then swipe to answer the call.

—

“Yeah, I'm free next week.”

Jinx stops running, suddenly curious about your conversation. She slows down and looks over your way, trying to hear what you're saying.

Isha looks confused, her face scrunched up in a frown. She glances up at Jinx, then back to you.

“Okay, I'll see you next Friday then.”

Next friday? As in on valentine's day? Why are you making plans with someone else on one of the biggest couples holidays there is?

Jinx narrows her eyes at you. She can see the phone up to your ear. Who are you talking to? why are you planning to do something with someone else on valentine's day? 

Isha tugs at Jinx's hand, wanting to continue playing. But Jinx is too preoccupied to pay attention to your little sister right now.

Jinx turns to Isha, her attention still partly on you. She squints her eyes. “Hey, listen, kiddo.”

Isha cocks her head to the side, curious why Jinx isn't playing with her anymore.

Jinx lowers her voice to a hush and whispers so that only Isha can hear. “Do you know if your sister already has a girlfriend or something?”

Isha just shrugs. She doesn't know. She doesn't really care about her sister's love life, at least not as much as Jinx does. Though she remembers you and Jinx dating, and she knows you've broken up. But all that matters now is that she plays with her favorite people, like you and Jinx.

Jinx frowns, not happy with the lack of answer she's getting from your little sister. 

She's not mad... at least, not right now. She's still not sure if the person you were talking to was a girl or not, or if you two really had something going on for you to make such plans. But the thought of you spending that day with anyone but her is bothering her.

To be clear, Jinx isn't like… jealous or anything. She's just curious. Yeah, just curious. To know why you're talking to someone on the phone and what they want with you, specifically on a day like that.

Still, Jinx tries to shrug it off. You do have your own life. You're not together anymore.

She doesn't care. She doesn't care if you spend a stupid holiday with someone. She doesn't even care that you two aren't together anymore. You have every right to make plans with someone else. She can't be mad... nope, definitely not mad at all.

She looks down at your sister, who's still standing there, staring up at her expectantly. She remembers that she's supposed to be playing with her. 

Jinx tries to smile at your little sister. It's forced, though. She decides to put her focus back on the kid in front of her. She can't spend her time worrying or getting upset over you and your weird phone call. Nah, it's better to focus on the little one in front of her. Playing with her is much better than worrying about you. Definitely.

“So…” Jinx starts. “Still wanna play tag?”

—

A few days later, Jinx still can't shake the thought. She knows she shouldn't care... but that doesn't stop the thought from being there. That doesn't stop it from thinking about you with someone else. 

She needs to know who you're seeing. She needs to know who you're going to spend Valentine's day with.

So, she keeps trying to get more information from your little sister, whenever and however she can.

One day, Jinx finally gets the information she's been looking for. 

And now, she's standing outside a cafe. Jinx sees you through the window, talking to someone. She watches as you laugh at something this woman says. She can't see who it is. She can't hear whatever the conversation you're having. But she can see you laughing, and that... that makes her stomach churn.

She's seen you happy before. But there's just something about the way you're laughing with this woman. It's making her feel... something.

Wait.

Is she jealous?

No, that's just stupid. She just wants to know who you're talking with. Yup. That's all. She just wants to know who you're seeing. She's not jealous.

Jinx steps inside the cafe, the bell above the door jingling. Her eyes are locked on you, not even twitching an inch. She's so focused on you that she's not even paying attention to anything else. Not even the barista trying to ask her what she wants to order.

“Um... ma'am?” the barista tries again.

Jinx finally snaps out of it, turning her attention toward the barista. She realizes that she probably looked weird, just staring at you like that.

She blinks once, twice, before she answers. “Uh…” She looks back at you, and then back at the barista. “Oh... um... yeah. Can I get a…” Jinx looks at the menu. “A caramel mocha, or something…”

The barista nods, not minding Jinx's sudden zoning out. “Sure thing. And just so you know-” they continue, as they start preparing her order. “We have a discount for couples, especially since it's Valentine's today.”

Oh?

Jinx's eyes dart back to you, and she starts to put two and two together. Couples? Discount? Does that mean you and that woman are…

—

“Hahaha… yeah.” You force out a laugh, feeling awkward. Free food. Yeah, free food is good.

You don't have work today, thanks to your boss who's sitting in front of you.

Spending Valentine's day with your boss of all people and…

Ugh.

It's not a date. It's just a meeting. Just a meeting that your boss decided to have on valentine's day. 

You're sitting across from your boss, forcing out a laugh as she talks about… about-

Wait. What was she talking about? you were too busy thinking about the fact that you were in a valentine's meeting with your boss that you didn't pay attention to the actual conversation.

“I must say,” your boss chimes in with a smile, taking a sip of her coffee. “I'm quite impressed with your recent work.”

You force a smile back. “Oh, um… thank you, ma'am.”

Your boss nods. “In fact-” your boss continues, but their voice starts to fade out. Why? Because…

Your attention suddenly drifts towards the door. The bell jingles as someone new walks in.

You're not sure why... but you feel the sudden urge to look at whoever has just walked in. Is it... is it a feeling? a weird feeling?

“Promotion”

What?

Did you just hear your boss say... promotion?

The noise in the cafe suddenly dies out. You're no longer listening to the sound of coffee being brewed, or the barista taking orders, or the hum of conversation.

Your focus is on the one word you just heard.

Promotion.

“Promotion?” you repeat. As in, a pay raise. As in, even more responsibilities. As in-

“Yes.” She puts her coffee down. “You've been an excellent employee. You're diligent, focused, and always go the extra mile.”

Just before she can get another word out, something happens. Just when everything seems to be going right with those precious words “promotion,” something just HAS to happen.

Accidents happen, right?

Except this one is a really big accident.

Because some idiot accidentally spilled a hot, caramel mocha with a mountain of whipped cream all over your boss's shirt.

“What the-” your boss's eyes widen when she sees the ruined blouse that she's wearing. “Who on earth-”

“Oh god. I'm so, so sorry.” The idiot who caused this whole mess apologizes, stepping closer to your boss.

Wait-

There's something about that voice...

Why does it sound so familiar?

Your head turns slowly toward the source of the voice.

Your ex.

Jinx.

JINX?!

What is she doing here?!

“Again, I'm so sorry.” Jinx repeats herself as she tries to fix the mess, grabbing some napkins from the table and using them to soak up the mess on your boss's shirt. “I didn't mean to-” Her head suddenly turns in your direction.

Why is she... why is she here? she already spent time with your little sister last week, what could she possibly want-

“Oh-” your boss interrupts, noticing the way Jinx looks at you, or the way you're looking at Jinx. “You two... know each other?”

Shit. 

This is going to be awkward. 

“Uh…” You look over at Jinx. She's still staring at you with that look on her face. Why does she look like that? Is she trying to tell you something? “We're just old friends.”

You cringe at the words. Friends isn't the right word to use, but you know you had to say something. You couldn't just say, “Oh yeah, she's my ex and I don't know what the hell she's doing here.” There's no way you're saying that in front of your boss.

Then you notice the way Jinx clenches her jaw, just subtly. You know that look on her face. The one where she's trying to hold something back. Not that she's going to explode or anything, it's just... the expression tells you that she has something to say.

And she looks pissed.

Why is she pissed? You didn't say anything wrong. You aren't together anymore, right? So shouldn't everything be fine?

But that doesn't matter now because you have bigger problems to deal with. Like how Jinx just spilled a freshly brewed, steaming hot coffee full of sugar and cream all over your boss's blouse.

“Yep.” Jinx affirms with a nod. “We're just old, good friends.”

Your boss looks between the two of you. Then, she takes a napkin and dabs some of the excess, creamy liquid off.

You stand there, waiting for the moment when your boss will explode. That she'll get extremely mad at the woman who has just ruined her blouse (which cost probably double of your salary) and demand compensation.

But-

Your boss just sighs.

“How... unfortunate.” She murmurs, looking down at her blouse.

That's it?

Why isn't she asking for compensation? or demanding an apology? or an explanation? or whatever else one would demand in this kind of situation?

“Don't worry about it.” Your boss reassures. “It was just an unfortunate accident.” She smiles at Jinx and then places the stained, crumpled up napkin onto the table. “I'm just... out of luck, because I don't have a spare blouse to change.”

—

Jinx didn't expect that.

She thought she'd get chewed out by your ‘girlfriend’ for ruining her expensive shirt, have to pay for it, or something similar. But instead, she just walked over to the shop across the street, picked out an expensive replacement for the ruined shirt, paid for it, and then went into the changing room to try it on.

Now, you and Jinx are just sitting next to each other on a white leather couch, close enough that your thighs almost brush, but far enough that you have enough space to not actually touch.

Her foot is tapping impatiently against the tiled floor. She's staring at the side of your head, trying to catch your attention. Your eyes are glued on a random painting on the wall across from the couch.

It's quiet and uncomfortable.

She remembers how many times in the past you and her would sit on a couch like this. In her place, in your place, it didn't matter.

She'd be snuggled up next to you, sitting on your lap, and you'd have an arm around her waist, or she'd place your hand on her thigh, or her hand on the back of your neck, or she would be playing with your hair.

But now, she's keeping both hands to herself, and it feels... wrong. Like something is missing.

“So…” Jinx drawls, the tapping of her foot stops. “You and your d-” She barely gets the word out before you interrupt her. 

“What are you doing here-” you turn to face her, and the words just kind of blurt out of you, “-I mean, why are you-”

“What do you mean, what am I doing here? I was at the cafe.”

“Why were you in the cafe?”

“What?”

“Did you know that I was going to be there?”

“No,” she lies. “Why do you think I went to the cafe? Do you think I'm stalking you or something?”

“Are you?”

“What?!” Jinx throws her hands up in frustration. “Since when do I stalk people?”

You give her a look, one that says, ‘really?’

“Don't look at me like that! I've never stalked anyone in my life. Ever.” She huffs. “I was just... doing my own thing. I just happened to be there. In the same place. At the same time. That's all. A coincidence.” Jinx pauses, realizing her own words, how it sounds, and how she sounded. She then looks at you, eyes tracing over your face, before she suddenly looks away. “Anyway,” she says, “you and that woman... are you two a thing?” she asks, trying to change the topic.

“Why do you care?”

Why does she care?

She doesn't.

She shouldn't.

She can't care.

She has no right to care.

She left you. She pushed you away. She can't care anymore, because that would make her a hypocrite, to push you away but care for you at the same time.

She's supposed to be moving on. That's what she was supposed to do.

But why does she still feel like this?

Why does her heart ache? Why does it ache because she's sitting right next to you, and she can't do anything but keep her hands to herself? Why does it ache because your shoulders are only an inch away from touching? Why can't you just touch each other again? Why do just a few inches feel so... lonely?

She's supposed to be over you. It's been months.

Months!

She doesn't understand why she still feels this way. She tries to date other people, but none of them compare to you.

And that's not fair.

It's not fair because she keeps comparing everything about them to how you used to be.

She compares the color of their outfit to yours, she compares the way they walk to yours, she compares the sound of their voice to yours.

Her mind keeps finding little things in them that remind her of you.

How their hands feel too rough. How their smiles are too forced. How their eyes never lit up like yours did. How their hugs didn't feel right. How they never seemed to get her the way you did.

It's all wrong.

Because they're not you. No one could compare to you.

She tries to convince herself that she's over you, that she doesn't care, that she doesn't miss you. That the fact that you've found someone else shouldn't bother her at all, that she's totally fine with the fact that you've clearly given your attention to someone else. That she has no right to be jealous, no right to be like this.

So she repeats the same thing she's been telling herself for months.

“I don't care,” she lies to herself and lies to you. Her eyes darts to your hand, close enough for her to take if she reached out her own hand. “It doesn't bother me.”

“Of course it doesn't.” You scoff. “It has nothing to do with you.”

It has something to do with her.

Before she can say anything else, the changing room door opens, and the woman walks out wearing a new black and white blouse.

“Ah, much better.” The woman looks at herself, smoothing out the wrinkles on the fabric. She turns her attention to you. “What do you think?” She smiles. “Looks better, doesn't it?”

Jinx glares at her. That woman looks dumb in the stupid white and black blouse, which somehow manages to look cheaper than the previous blouse even though it probably cost more.

“Yeah.” You force yourself to look away from Jinx, standing up from the couch. “It looks good.”

Jinx grinds her teeth, standing up as well. The way you speak to her like that, it... annoys her. It makes her want to do something petty.

“Glad you think so,” she continues, adjusting the collar. “At least this is presentable. Unlike my previous blouse, which is now... coffee-stained.”

Jinx smirks at that. But her smirk quickly disappears when the woman turns to look at her.

“Speaking of that,” the woman says, her eyes locking onto Jinx. “I don't believe we've had a proper introduction. I'm Cassandra. Cassandra Kiramman. What's your name?”

“Uh…”

“Don't be shy,” she says, in a tone that could be perceived the wrong way, and it grates on Jinx's already thin temper. “I just thought we should greet each other properly, especially after the… earlier accident.”

“Jinx,” she replies. “Just Jinx.”

“Jinx,” the woman repeats. “Interesting name.”

“Better than your boring name,” Jinx mutters.

You elbow her side. Jinx holds back a grimace.

“What was that?” The woman's brow quirks.

“Nothing,” Jinx lies. “Just…” She looks down at the woman's designer heels. “I was just admiring your heels.”

“Oh.” The woman looks down at her heels as well, raising one foot up to show them off. “I got them at the same store I bought this outfit.”

Jinx snorts. “Cheap.”

The woman either doesn't hear what Jinx just said or she just ignores it. Instead, she holds out her hand, and Jinx stares down at it.

“It's nice to meet you, Jinx,” the woman says, still holding out her hand. “I hope we-”

You nudge Jinx. “Be nice,” you whisper.

Jinx scoffs but begrudgingly reaches out and grips the woman's hand. “Likewise.” She forces a smile onto her face.

The woman's hand feels too soft. Jinx could break her with her bare hands if she wants to. Which she is very much considering.

“I'm glad that's settled then.” She lets go of Jinx's hand, and Jinx wipes it on her pants, trying to rid that weird feeling off her skin. Everything about her just makes her sick. Even her name, Cassandra, makes her want to hurl.

The woman starts to walk towards the counter. “I'll just... go pay for this.”

“Sure.” You say, watching her walk away.

—

After your boss pays for her overpriced blouse at the register, she pulls you outside, away from Jinx, who stands several feet away. Jinx can see you talking to her, but she can't hear what you're saying. 

“About that promotion…” your boss starts. “Your name is still in the running for consideration, however, we're still going to be discussing it before making any final decisions.”

“Since my name was mentioned?” you repeat, “so there are already some possible employees they're considering?”

“Yes,” she says, looking at you with a stern and serious face. “The only problem being…”

“...being?” you prompt.

“How do I put this?” Your boss clears her throat. “Your performance has been excellent, to say the least. You've always exceeded our expectations and more, and your skills have certainly improved over the years.”

Your confidence rises a bit. “But?”

“But,” your boss continues, “the decision isn't solely based on your performance.”

“How so?” you probe. “It's always based on performance, right?”

“Not in this case,” your boss explains. “In regard to the promotion, the decision is up to the board members.”

The board members? Up until this point, you had assumed that the decision was made by the managers, but you guess it makes sense, since you're dealing with a large company.

“You mean the... big guys? The ones who are…”

“Rich, wealthy, snobby?” Your boss completes your sentence for you. Smirk forms on her lips, as if the board annoys her as well.

“Ahh... and that could be bad…?”

Your boss pauses for a moment, then, “...yes.”

“Why?”

“Because the board is a bit finicky.” She sighs. “They're not one to make decisions easily, and they've always had this... habit of arguing over even the most trivial affairs.”

“So… it’s not looking good for me then?”

“Don't say that,” your boss says. “It's not looking terrible for you.”

“I see.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “Wait, does that mean I have to impress the board members?”

“Yes, that's exactly it.” Your boss agrees. “The members are picky, so to speak.”

Figures. Of course the rich assholes are picky bastards.

Your boss gives your shoulders a reassuring pat before returning her hand to her side. “Just-” she glances over your shoulder towards Jinx, “-try not to worry about it, alright? It's out of your control.”

Jinx continues to glare at the woman. Your boss leans in to whisper, “Your friend-” she nods at Jinx “-doesn't seem to like me very much.”

You follow her gaze. 

Jinx notices the two of you staring and suddenly finds great interest in a nearby pigeon pecking at the ground.

“Yeah…” you reply, laughing nervously.

Your boss chuckles, turning to you again. “Anyway, I've got to run. But don't bother coming to work today. You have the day off so-” She gives you a smile and glances towards Jinx, “-spend the rest of your Valentine's day... with her.”

“Oh no, we're not-”

“Don't give me that.” She cuts you off. “I'm not naive, okay? I'm not stupid. I know you two are a thing. It's obvious.”

“Was.” You correct her.

Your boss doesn't seem to care much about the correction. She doesn't react at all. No surprise, no shock, no disappointment. “Was, is, who cares?” 

Huh. What is this woman talking about? “Excuse me?”

Your boss ignores your confused look. “The point is, the two of you have something. Something that still hasn't faded.” She motions at Jinx, who's still busy watching a pigeon pick at some bread crumbs on the ground. “I'd better get going. Take the day off for yourself. And…” She gives you a knowing look. “Figure things out.”

With that, your boss turns around and waves to you before walking away. You watch her go, dumbfounded and confused. Is she right? Does Jinx still have feelings for you?

—

Jinx hates the way the woman pulls you outside, she hates the way the woman lays her hand on your shoulder, she hates the way the woman leans into you to whisper something that Jinx hates because she couldn't hear what the two of you were talking about. When the two of you catch her looking, she suddenly looks away.

She hears you laugh. It's the most beautiful sound she's ever heard, but it's the fact that you're laughing with someone else that pisses her off. 

She focuses her attention on the bird pecking at the ground.

That's right. 

Focus on the bird, not the sound of your laughter. Ignore the way the woman keeps her hand on your shoulder. Don't pay any attention to the way the two of you are talking. 

Just focus on the bird. Nothing but the bird.

She could turn and leave right now if she wanted to. Nobody's forcing her to stay. She doesn't even know why she stuck around and followed you and the woman into this shop in the first place. But she wants to stay. She wants to stay because you're here. Because of you.

This is ridiculous.

It's none of her business. You two aren't together anymore. You're not her responsibility. You're not her issue to deal with. She's free to do whatever and whoever she wants.

She hears footsteps getting closer to her, and she turns her head to see you coming over. She looks around, noticing the woman is gone.

“Did you bid your farewells to your girlfriend yet?” she asks curtly.

“She's not my girlfriend,” you reply, walking to her side.

“Oh…” She turns back to the pigeon but finds it has flown away, leaving a few bread crumbs on the ground. She's left with nothing to focus her attention on aside from you. “Then what is she?”

It's a stupid question, but she asks it anyway. It's not like she's entitled to your intimate details. 

“She's just my boss.”

She lets out a sigh. Is it a sigh of relief? Maybe.

“You know… you've been glaring at me the whole time,” you continue.

She snorts. “That's just because your face is irritating to look at, nothing else."

“Oh, I'm sure that's the only reason.”

No, it's not just the only reason.

“So what is it then, huh?” she asks, irritated. “Is she flirting with you?”

“No.”

“She laid her hand on your shoulder, didn't she?”

“Is that what you're worked up about? That she laid her hand on my shoulder?”

“Why did she do that anyways?”

“It's no big deal, she's just-”

Jinx interrupts you. “Why did she do it? what compelled her to touch you like that? It's not very appropriate for your boss to be physically affectionate towards you.”

“Since when were you a stickler for rules and appropriate conduct?” 

“I'm not.” 

“Then why are you so worked up about a simple touch?”

“Because it's not just a simple touch.”

“What? So now you're the authority on what a simple touch looks like?”

“I know a lust driven touch when I see one.”

“Lust driven? What are you, insane?”

“I'm not insane,” Jinx grumbles. “I know the difference between an innocent touch and a not-so-innocent touch.”

“Not-so-innocent? Seriously, Jinx. What are you—do you think my boss has a thing for me?”

“Don't be dense. It's obvious that she has the hots for you.”

“Jinx, she's married. Didn't you see that ring on her finger?”

That makes Jinx pause.

A ring?

Huh... she didn't notice it.

Had she really been so focused on you that she hadn't noticed?

“And married people can't want anyone else? you'd be pretty blind if you think married people can't have crushes, or feelings, or affairs... oh god, is she having an affair with you?”

“What?! No, she's not-” You facepalm. “What in the world would make you think that my boss, who's happily married by the way, would be cheating on her husband with me? That's fucking insane!” You pause, suddenly realizing something. “...wait a minute?”

“What?”

“Earlier today... the spilled drink. That was on purpose, wasn't it?!”

She remains silent.

“You're jealous,” you state.

“What? Jealous? That's bullshit.” Her face heats up. She's a terrible liar, isn't she?

“Then why are you so bothered by the fact that my boss-”

“Because you're mine!”

And there it is. This is what she wanted to hide. Her jealousy, her possessiveness, her attachment to you.

The words slip out before she can even think, and they're so loud and so clear that anyone within a few meters could've heard them. There was no plan, no filter, no hesitation. Just the words that spill out from her mouth before her brain could catch up.

What is she even saying? You're not hers. Why did she say that? She didn't mean it. She has to backtrack, change the subject, anything, just don't look like a blubbering idiot.

“I'm-” She turns away from you. “You're-” She covers her face with her hands and groans.

How pathetic.

Why did she just say that?!

She'll just laugh it off, right? Just say haha, kidding, no hard feelings, we can be friends... right?!

You rub your forehead and shake your head. “Jinx... even if my boss had any feelings for me, which she doesn't, but even if she did-”

The thought of you being with anyone else is driving Jinx completely crazy.

She can't bear to even imagine the thought of you being with someone else or your boss. She's already picturing it in her mind, the both of you together, laughing, smiling, happy, while you're wrapped around your boss like a dog. Your boss is so rich and successful and could provide you with everything you could ever want. And what could Jinx offer you?

Jinx turns to you, dropping her hand from her face. “Why WOULDN'T you be interested in her? She's got it all, for fuck's sake! She's pretty, she's nice, she's independent, she's successful… she's everything any guy or girl would want. What's not to like?”

“Because she's not you!”

“Pfft! Of course she's not me!” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “She's got everything going for her. She's put together, mature, not a total mess-” her mind goes blank when she realizes what you'd said. “...wait. What did you say?”

“She's not you.”

Jinx opens her mouth to argue, then suddenly closes it. She looks away, biting her lip, refusing to look at whatever expression you have right now. 

Why?

You shouldn't have said that. You shouldn't have said something like that.

Don't you realize this is only going to make things harder... and better?

—

Jinx isn't saying anything. You both are just... standing there in silence. People are passing by, couples holding hands, friends laughing and talking.

Your boss' words are still ringing in your ear. Figure things out.

You glance to the side, at the brick wall, and at the clock on the building. The second hand is ticking away. “We still have time,” you say, and you feel Jinx look at you.

“Time for what?”

“My sister isn't out of school yet, so…” You clear your throat. “I heard there's a new amusement park that just opened up nearby. Would you…”

Would you like to be my valentine? The words hang in your head, and your mouth refuses to say them. You just want to see if it's still there. If the connection you felt before is still present. If the feelings she had for you remain.

“Would you like to go with me?”

“...huh? Like, right now?”

“Er-” you sputter, “ONLY IF YOU WANT TO-” you add hastily. “I… I mean, if you're free-” You look down, shifting awkwardly. “If you're not-”

“I am!” she blurts out.

Okay, she agreed.

Wait, what?

Your head whips back up, eyes wide as you blink at her in silence.

“No, I-I mean, yes, I'm free,” Jinx clarifies. 

“Are you sure?” you ask, “I only mean if you want-”

“Yes!” Jinx blurts out again, then clamps a hand over her mouth with a muttered ‘fuck’ when she realizes how eager she sounds.

You both just stand there awkwardly, staring at each other, before Jinx snaps herself out of her nervousness, eyes hardening as she puts on a confident smile. “Well,” she quips. “Lead the way.”

—

“Watch this.”

Jinx grips the fake pistol, a grin spread across her face. She lines up her shot, and-

BANG!

The target falls.

BANG!

Another falls.

BANG!

And another.

The park staff watch in shock at the girl's accuracy, while passersby stop to watch the impressive display of skill.

“Hell yeaaahh!” she crows, spinning the toy gun around her finger. “That's how it's done, baby!”

A group of teenagers watches her, chanting “MVP” and “QUEEN!”

Jinx shrugs, twirling the gun around. She hands the toy gun back to the staff and looks up above to choose a prize. “Hmmm... hmm... that one.” She points up to a giant stuffed pink shark, and the worker sighs. 

“That-” they start before Jinx interrupts them. 

“Yeah, I want the giant shark.”

The worker sighs heavier and takes the shark down, reluctantly handing it over to Jinx.

Giggling, she throws her prize towards you, and you awkwardly catch the gigantic stuffed animal under one arm.

“What-” you ask as she walks away. “Where are we going now?”

“Ooh! Let's go to that!” She points to the twisted rollercoaster as you struggle to keep pace with her.

The roller coaster looks like torture, and the line is so freaking long you could fall asleep while waiting.

“Can't we go on something... calmer?”

—

“I'm not so sure about this…” you hesitantly say as you're forced to sit next to Jinx in the roller coaster, her thigh touching yours since the seat is so damn small.

You try to fit the giant shark between you, and by some miracle, you manage to cram the stuffed toy in the already crowded space.

The staff comes to make sure everyone is buckled up and stops when they see the giant pink stuffed shark squished awkwardly between you two. “That uhhh... needs to be placed there.” They point over to a shelf where they take any extra luggage/belongings.

You and Jinx both turn around to look at the shelf, then back at the ride worker.

“Oh, right.” You nod and pick up the giant stuffed animal, handing it to the staff.

“Don't lose it-” Jinx warns them.

“Yeah, yeah, we won't,” the staff says, putting it on the shelf.

The bars come down and latch you in.

“Alright-” one of the staff says, “The ride is about to start!”

You look at Jinx, and she looks back at you. “Ready?” she asks, grinning.

“Uh, Ahahaha… sure.”

The staff member comes around one last time and checks to see if you're strapped in correctly. “All right-” they say. “Here we go-”

You gulp, swallowing nervously. You'd rather take on a bullet than ride this metal atrocity, but you're stuck with Jinx.

The ride starts moving, making the clicking sound as it's being lifted upwards to the very top of the coaster.

The ride climbs up to the top, and your nervousness only starts to increase as the rollercoaster continues to climb higher and higher. When it finally reaches the top, it suddenly stops moving, probably to give a few minutes for those to take pictures.

“Hey, look!” Jinx points to the view of the amusement park below the two of you. “We're so high up!”

“I just want to say…” you start, “that I ate the cake you put in the fridge last yea- AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH.”

The roller coaster suddenly drops, and the two of you are sent flying down at a high speed.

“OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD-” you scream over the roar of the coaster. Your screams are mixed in with the screams of everyone else.

“WOOOOOOO!” she yells, raising both of her arms in the air. “FUCK YEAAAHH!!”

The roller coaster does a series of sharp turns, drops, twists, and loops that completely mess with your perspective and gravity.

You feel like your stomach is somewhere in your thighs as the ride twists and turns around at breakneck speeds. “HOLY SHIT I CAN FEEL THE SKIN COMING OFF OF MY FACE AAAAAAAAAAAAAA.”

Jinx, on the other hand-

“IT'S SO FAST! FASTER FASTER FASTER!”

This is it. This is how you die.

—

…you somehow survived the roller coaster, but you're not so sure if your soul has left your body.

After the first roller coaster ride, you decided to take it easy on yourself and went on the carousel, but Jinx was having none of it and pulled you onto the next wild ride. And the next. And the next…

Eventually, you get your hands on the picture captured during the roller coaster.

Jinx laughs and stares at the picture before sticking it into her pocket. “You should see your face.” She giggles as you pass a few other people.

She's currently holding the giant shark stuffie in her arms as the two of you walk around, looking for something else to do.

You've done just about everything except for the log ride and there's no way you're going on that.

You're walking aimlessly through the park when you notice Jinx's pace starts to slow down, trailing behind you.

“Hey?” You turn around to look at her. “What's wrong?”

She's already looking up at the sky. “Do you want to try the ferris wheel?”

—

notes: i would 100% recommend listening to “come here” by kath bloom since this scene (and what happens afterwards) is inspired by the movie before sunrise

You sit in the ferris wheel, side by side. The ride starts moving, slowly bringing the two of you up higher and higher.

You stare out the window to your left, watching the world get farther and farther away as the cabin rises up.

The giant pink shark sits across from the two of you. You like this. Just you and her and the shark.

You feel her side pressed against yours, and you're unable to concentrate on anything besides that. She also looks unable to sit still because she's constantly shifting in her seat.

You sneak a glance at her and see her looking at the window as well. She notices you staring and turns her head to look at you. Suddenly, your eyes meet—you note the color of her irises. An artist might have trouble replicating them, but you think yours could do a pretty good job.

...and just like that, she looks away. Back to the window, finding something interesting to stare at on her side of the cabin.

It gives you a good opportunity to look your fill.

But then she looks back at you, and you look away. Your lips twitch into a faint smile before you quickly purse them together.

You feel her knee brush yours, just gently, like someone walking past you in a crowded room. Except this isn't an accident.

You turn your focus back outside the window, admiring the view. You see the top of the roller coaster you were just on, the carousel, and so many other places you've been today.

But your attention soon drifts to your right side and—oh. She's staring at you again.

Her eyes trace up the side of your head. Over your hair, around your ear…

…to your lips.

She wants to kiss you.

A fact that you notice quite easily.

You want to kiss her too.

You take a deep, trembling breath. You don't know if it's the height, or the cramped space, or the fact that you're alone with her right now—but it's starting to get hot in here.

You wait for a few more seconds, but then, unable to wait any longer, you turn to look at her-

Only to realize she already looked away before you could capture her gaze.

You look down at your lap, feeling the corner of your mouth twitching into a smile again, and... you don't bother stopping it, nor the way your tongue flicks out to wet your lower lip.

You're shaken out of your thoughts when the cabin jerks to a stop. It stopped at the very top. The highest point, where the view is the best.

You don't take time to look out the window. You can only focus on the woman sitting next to you.

Just one more look.

Just one more. That's all you want. You want to turn your head just one more time and kiss her right here in the cabin.

Just one more before you lean in and capture her lips with your own.

You don't know what pulls at your chest or your head, but suddenly you feel the urge to look back at her-

But she stares down at her lap, idly fiddling with her fingers, picking at the blue and pink nail polish. Her braids hide her face from your view. You want to reach out and tuck them behind her ear to see her face better... but you hesitate.

You wait for her to look at you, and when she does-

She looks up, and your eyes lock. She doesn't look away. Neither do you.

—

“Isha will love this.” Jinx chuckles, patting the pink shark sitting next to her.

You watch her from across the table. The diner around you is mostly empty, the staff working while waiting for the next customers to come in.

You look at the clock on the wall. Only an hour left before you have to pick up your little sister. Both of you decided to take a break from the amusement park and grab a bite to eat at the nearby diner.

Jinx sighs, drumming her fingers on the table, growing bored with the wait time. “I'm bored,” she whines, “Let's do something.” 

You've been waiting for your order for a while. “Like what?”

She hums, thinking. “Like... roleplay.”

You shrug. Why not? You don't have anything else to do. “Alright, let's try it.”

She grins and leans forward, propping her chin on her hand. “Okay, you're going to pretend to call a friend, and I-” she points her finger at her chest, “-will answer. Sounds good?”

You're a bit confused, but you nod anyway. If you can humor her, maybe it'll pass the time. You lift your hand up and imitate holding a phone, with your thumb and pinky pointed upwards. “Ring ring.”

Jinx does the same and clears her throat before replying, “Heeellloo.”

The sound of her cheerful voice makes you crack a smile. “Hey.” You put on your serious but friendly tone, looking straight at her. “Is this... er-” You pause, your brain working to come up with a random name. “...is this Rebecca?”

“Heyyy yes it is, this is Becca.” Jinx tilts her head to the side. “How are you?”

You have to suppress a laugh. She really sounds like another person. “Yeah, I'm doing good. I was just calling to catch up. How's life been?”

“Oh, the usual. Work, sleep, rinse, and repeat,” she says with a sigh. “What about you?”

“Well…” You look down at the table, pretending to think of something, then look up and meet her eyes once again. “I met my ex.”

Jinx's (or rather, Rebecca's) eyes go wide, pretending to be shocked. “Your ex? Like, Jinx, your ex girlfriend? When did this happen?”

“Just today. I was having a meeting with my boss, and, well she… she kind of accidentally spilled a drink on her.”

Jinx's face scrunches up into an 'O' shape. “She spilled a drink on your boss?” she repeats. “What the hell? Why would she do that?”

“I think she's jealous.”

Jinx smirks. “So... what did you do? Did you two end up talking?”

“Yeah, we did,” you reply, watching her face. “She's still the same. Same eyes, same lips, same tattoos, same long braids of blue hair... beautiful as she always is.”

Jinx's expression softens. She listens to you intently, smiling.

You hesitate before continuing. “I still... love it.”

You stare down at the table and lay one of your hands on the surface. 

“I like it when she looks at me,” you say, your fingers tracing the wood. “I like to feel her eyes on me when I look away.” Your eyes return to hers.

Jinx lets her hand rest on the table, her fingers only a few inches away from your own. The gap between your fingers is not close enough to touch, but it still causes your heart rate to pick up.

You look at her slender digits, tracing the faint veins on the back of her hand. 

Her hand moves a bit, as if she were about to reach out and touch yours, but then she changes her mind. “Are you going to get back together?”

You contemplate her words, and then a snort of laughter escapes your lips. “We haven't really talked about it yet,” you answer.

There's a pregnant pause, the two of you looking into each other's eyes in silence.

You break the silence with a cough and return your hand back down to the table. You mimic hanging up the phone, signaling that the conversation is over. She does the same, coughing awkwardly.

“Your turn,” you say, “you call your friend.”

“Okay, okay.” She raises her hand, mimicking holding a phone once more. “Brrrring brrrringggg.”

You play along and answer in a deep voice. “Sup, dude? What's up?”

She giggles at your tone. “Hey, how ya been?”

“Doin' just fine, ya know. Livin' the dream. You?”

“I'm doing just great,” she responds. “No, scratch that. I'm rapturous. Wanna know why?”

“And why, might I ask?”

“I met someone.”

“Who?”

“My ex.”

“Oh wow.”

“And the best part is,” she adds, looking at you. “She's here with me,” she continues. “Have you heard the saying that we're all our own angels and demons?”

You nod.

She hums and grins. “Well, turns out that's true. Because I'm looking at an angel right in front of me.”

That's so cheesy... and it's working. “How did you meet?” you ask, changing the topic.

“Oh yeah, about that…” She clears her throat and sits back. “Well,” she starts, drumming her fingers on the table. “I was just curious about who your... uh, I mean her…” She wrinkles her nose. “Valentine's date was. So I got info on her little sister.”

“My sis—I mean, her little sister?”

“Yep, that little squirt was actually pretty cooperative.” Jinx chuckles. “But I just saw her with another woman in a cafe. Turned out it was just her boss.”

You laugh at that, shaking your head.

She grins, satisfied that she was able to make you laugh.

The two of you sit in silence again, waiting for the waiter to bring your orders.

“Anyway, I know we have a lot to talk about,” she continues, her eyes finding yours. “Everything that went down between us. About our relationship. But…” her voice trails off, and then she seems to have found her voice again. “But do… do you think… do you think we would ever be back together?”

Your hand moves from the table to her hand, taking it into yours. The gesture is so natural you don't even notice it until you see the way her fingers wrap around yours.

You run your thumb over her knuckles, her hand fitting in yours like it always did and always will. “I think... if you both talk things out... and if you're both willing to try again…”

She brings your hands to her mouth, placing kisses on your knuckles, on the bumps of your skin, on the veins that run beneath. She looks back up at you, her eyes searching for something in your face. Whatever she was looking for, she finds it and smiles.

“Are you willing to try again?”

You don't reply. 

What would it be like to be with her again? Despite everything, despite how things were, there were still moments you remember in a warm light.

The times you and she held hands and just walked down the street. The times you two would sit in a park and people, watch and joke about anyone that walked past.

The times you got stranded in the rain with her and had to share an umbrella, giggling as you squeezed together under it. 

The times you two went on a road trip together and laughed and sang along to the radio the whole way.

The times you two spent a night at a hotel together, and neither one of you got any sleep.

The times she would laugh at a stupid joke or just do something adorable, and all the air of the room would just leave you and your voice would get caught in your throat.

The times you saw her in a t-shirt and shorts and no makeup, and she's still the most beautiful in the world.

The times you felt your heart leap when you saw her name pop up on your phone. 

The times spent talking about the most boring things and the most boring things were suddenly the most interesting things in the world.

The times you went to the movies and she'd get bored and try to make out with you.

The times she fell asleep with her head on your shoulder, and you'd stay as still, not moving a muscle, and when she asked why you weren't moving, you said “Nothing,” but it was because you could feel her breathing against your neck, and it was so calming that you just wanted to stay like that forever.

The times the sun would hit her face and light up her features and her hair would be golden and the freckles on the bridge of her nose would stand out.

The times she would say something ridiculous like “Oh god, my back is killing me... it sure would be a shame if a beautiful and caring woman just, oh, I don't know, gave me a back massage,” and then look at you with complete innocence.

The times she went with you to meet your grandmother, who immediately took a liking to her and pulled you aside later on to tell you she's a keeper.

The times she would talk about her childhood, and you would listen, and you thought “I wish I could take your pain away.”

The times you stood in the kitchen and cooked together, and it was a mess of flour and batter and sugar and eggs everywhere because you two kept throwing things at each other and laughing and kissing and stealing sips of cookie batter.

The times you woke up next to her and she was looking at you and her eyes were still bleary and the only thought you could think of was “I love her even more than I did last night.”

The times she would get upset about the smallest thing and leave, only to come back hours later with tired eyes and a tight smile. The times you would try to comfort her and she would shrug you off and tell you she's fine, even when she's clearly not.

The times she'd play with your little sister, pretending to be a princess alongside her. The times she'd be a regal queen who let her little princess sit atop her throne. The times she'd be an evil witch who terrorized your little sister. The times she'd be an adventurer who'd save your little sister.

The times she'd look at you when she thought you didn't notice. The times she'd lie and say she wasn't staring at you.

The times she would come to your place unannounced, just to show you something that reminded her of you.

The times you would just exist. No need for words. No need for actions. Just both of you in the same space, comfortable.

There used to be so much love between you two.

The nicknames you had for each other. The inside jokes that no one else knew about. The looks you would give each other from across the room.

You knew the taste of her lips better than your own name. You knew where to kiss, to taste, to worship. Her moles, her scars, her tattoo, her hips, her waist, her neck, her shoulders, her wrist, and it would always lead back to her lips. “All roads lead to Rome,” they say, and Rome was her lips.

You'd trace every line and curve on her body with your tongue the way a blind man would read Braille. You worshipped her like the messiah. She was the promised land to your Moses, her body the Holy of Holies, parting her legs like the Red Sea as you knelt at her altar, and drown in her like an Israelite drinking from Marah.

Being with her was like sitting beside a fire on a cold night. It was cozy, and sometimes you would feel her hand on your back or her arm around your shoulders.

She had a habit of touching you, you could never keep yourself away from each other. 

Even now, the way she holds your hand and kisses your hand, it reminds you of the days when all the two of you did was touch and kiss.

But that was then, and this is now.

Instead of spending every minute with each other, you're now sitting across from each other at an empty table in a quiet diner with the ghost of your past relationship hanging over your heads.

You remember the cold moments.

The times you two would fight, scream, yell, sometimes cry.

The times she was distant and cold. The times you wished you could just understand her thoughts.

The times you both would argue and shout at each other and afterwards lay in your bed and just stare at the empty space between the both of you.

The times she'd lock herself in the bathroom and you'd stand outside, your heart breaking with every word you heard her utter.

The times you would wake up in the middle of the night and see her on the edge of the bed, facing away from you, her body trembling, and every single time you would reach for her, and every single time she would pull away.

The times she'd hold you close and you'd hug her back and you'd feel her body shake from stifled sobs, and you would tell her it was okay, even though you didn't know if you were trying to make it okay for her or yourself because nothing was okay.

The times you felt so lost and alone and you just wanted her to hold you, tell you you were going to be fine, but instead she'd give you a blank look and just stare at you, unable to understand how you were feeling because how could she when she was so disconnected from herself and the world around her?

The times you wondered if she still loved you as much as you loved her, because even when you thought she didn't, she would catch you off guard and surprise you with a joke or a smile or a laugh or just the way she'd take your breath away with the simplest things, and you'd feel her love in those little moments and you'd cherish them because those moments were fleeting.

You'd hang onto them desperately, hoping to preserve them, hoping to relive them in your mind over and over because you wanted to feel her love again.

But the feeling would fade so fast, because soon enough she'd be in those moods again, and you'd feel yourself slipping from her grasp more and more every day, and you just wanted to hold on in vain, hold on and hope it will get better, it had to get better, it would get better.

And for the first time in your life, you were tired.

Not of her, not ever of her. You never get tired of her, you never want to be without her. But at that moment, you were tired.

You were tired of trying to understand her, tired of trying to make everything okay, tired of feeling like your love for her wasn't reciprocated.

Just tired.

You never wanted to break up with her. You never wanted to leave her. You just wanted everything to stop. You just wanted a pause.

She was tired too, maybe more tired than you.

When you said, “I'm tired,” she took it personally. She thought you were tired of her, you were tired of the relationship, and you were tired of being with her.

So she left. She broke up with you.

You never expected her to do that.

You never expected her to walk away from you, just like that.

You thought that she would understand, you thought that she would know what you meant when you said you were tired. You thought she would know that you were tired of being the only one trying to make things work, tired of feeling like you're the only one who cares, tired of feeling like the only one who's making sacrifices.

She didn’t hear the words you were actually saying, the words, “I need a break, just a short break.”

She heard different words, words that said, “I'm done, I don't want to do this anymore.”

And she responded accordingly.

She ended things before you could end them on your own terms.

She broke up with you all because you said the wrong words and she heard the wrong words.

But the past is the past, and you can't stay there forever. Right now, you're here with her.

You feel her hand squeeze yours, and you look up to meet her eyes.

They're the same eyes you lost yourself in so many times before, the same eyes that used to be filled with love, affection, passion, and desire. All of a sudden, the past is so close. The feeling comes rushing back, and you can't let it go.

You realize that your boss was right. Something is still there. Something that hasn't faded away.

Was or is, it's still there.

Are you willing to try again?

You know it wouldn't be easy. You still remember every painful, difficult moment of your relationship. You still remember every stupid fight, every misunderstanding, every mistake, and every argument.

But those warm moments that bring up an ache in your chest when you remember them, they were real. You know they were real.

Maybe this time, it will work out. Maybe this time, both of you will learn from your mistakes. Maybe this time, you'll make a better effort to understand her. Maybe this time, you'll try harder to listen to her and make sure she understands that you don't mean anything differently than what you're saying.

Maybe this time, everything will be different.

It will be different. 

Maybe if things work out, you won't lose her a second time.

Just maybe… you can get things right this time.

It took you both long enough to realize that neither of you really wanted it to end, right? and now here you are, with her, and she's looking at you with those same beautiful eyes, and-

Maybe this time, things can change for the better.

You squeeze her hand back, and it's an answer without saying anything.

She sees it, and she smiles. She turns your hand and brings it again to her lips, pressing a kiss on your palm.

This time, she doesn't let your hand go.

You don't let go of her hand either.

missed a deadline for this, but that’s okay because it’s worth it, JINX IS WORTH IT!! 🤞

[fembot-y2k]

things are incredibly tough right now between supporting our household and affording things like HRT, groceries, and such. Particularly after a combined $3000 hit to our savings! I myself am both unemployed and uninsured and my HRT costs WAY too much without it, particularly because one of the only ways I could get it right now was with a membership to FOLX of all things which also costs a fair amount every month. My wonderful wife keeps us afloat but things get tighter and tighter each month. If you wanna help a trans lesbian and her wife stay afloat please feel free to send us something or commission me at the following links. Thanks <3

commissions cashapp: $FembotY2K

Anything and everything is appreciated <3

How about we just have like... hey trans people, post your pay links or wishlist or whatever you got. No limits, no trans excluded, intersex welcome, any and all genders off the social conventions included. I'll just reblog em a bunch.

I need a reblog to share your info, please use those, not comments or tags. I try to reblog immediately every instance I see between 10am and 10pm, everything else goes into the queue.

Additionally, Reddit has some donation resources, which are outlined and linked in this post. However, there are potential difficulties associated with these resources, with more details in this post.

Potentially useful links as I find them: Guide to Fundraising.

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug Like Angel

He gets me so high

ty to that one anon who gave me the idea for this

tecnically this takes place between parts 4 and 5

so i guess this would be part 4.5?

anon ily for givijg me this idea

kind of a short chapter lol

You got into an argument earlier.

It wasn't over anything serious, you don't even remember what it was about.

All you remember is Damian telling you you weren't worthy of being part of his father's bloodline.

That stung a little.

You tried defending yourself and telling the others in hopes of others taking your side.

Only for everyone to take his.

"He's had a hard life," Dick said to you, still looking at Damian.

"So have I!" went unsaid, as you put your head down and looked at the floor.

It isn't fair!

It isn't fair how he walked away Scott free smirking as if he won!

It isn't fair how you were the only one scolded by Alfred and Bruce for arguing!

It isn't fair how you ran to your room to cry!

It isn't fair how you had no one on your side!

You needed someone on your side.

After a while of sobbing on your pillow (which was now wet), you felt your phone buzz and your ringtone go off. You were getting a call from Hobie.

It wasn't rare for him to call you, all of the spider-kids call each other at random times of the day to just talk about whatever.

One time you called them all at 3 am because you thought of a dumb invention that 'could change lives', only for Gwen to tell you it already existed, and didn't change lives.

One time, Miles called you to tell you he got 100 on his physics test.

One time, Hobie called you because he didn't know how long he should cook something in the microwave.

One time, Peni called you to tell you how she accidentally bought 3 copies of the same book. Again.

One time, Gwen called you at 1 am to ask if you could dye her hair again since her hair dye was fading again.

One time, Pavitr called you to ask which Valentine's gift he should give Gayatri since he was stuck between two options. He ended up choosing both gifts for her.

It was normal for everyone to call anyone for any reason.

You tried to wipe your tears and clear your voice so you could pretend you were fine, and you picked up the phone to talk to him.

As soon as you picked up, he started rambling about how his day went.

You didn't mind calling him, it took your mind off things.

Hobie felt something was off. Sure, you were listening to him intently, but you usually had your camera on and played with stupid filters while he talked. You didn't have your camera on like usual.

He decided to not bring it up and just let you tell him when you were ready.

"Anywho, I bought around 54 boxes of Girl Scout cookies-" Hobie said, while holding up a box of Thin Mints to the camera

"why did you buy 54??" you said in disbelief, your voice slightly cracking, which you cringed at.

"Don't worry about it." you laughed a little at that.

"Keep your window open, I'm on my way." you saw him start walking on camera

"Why?" you asked

"Get ready, we're going out," he said while grabbing 5 boxes of the Girl Scout cookies.

He hung up before explaining anything.

You got up from your bed and decided to fix yourself up a bit before he came over.

You redid your makeup because it smeared while you were crying.

After 5 minutes, you heard a knock on your window.

You went to see what it was, and Hobie was knocking at your window looking a little stupid.

You unlocked it and opened the window.

"I thought you were gonna unlock it?" Hobie said already looking around your room and making himself at home.

He and the others have come over a lot, it's somewhat surprising that none of your family noticed.

"I forgot!" you said while shrugging your shoulders. It wasn't a lie, you did forget.

"You're always forgetting, never remembering," Hobie said, lying on your comfy bed.

"Okay so I forget a couple of times and suddenly I'm always forgetful, I dye Gwen's hair and cut my own, does that make me a barber?" you said, dramatically before flopping onto your bed next to Hobie.

"So, what's got you all miffed?" he asked while playing around with a plushie that was on your bed.

"What do you mean?" you sat up to look at him in confusion.

"Miffed: somewhat annoyed; peeved," Hobie explained.

"No, not about what miffed means, I know what that means, but what do you mean?" you asked, tilting your head slightly.

"I mean, you look pissed, what happened?" he asked, while playing around with a volleyball he got from who knows where.

You started fidgeting with your hands. "Well, me and Damian got into an argument earlier. I don't even remember what it was about. He said I wasn't worthy of Bruce's blood. Which honestly did hurt a little. What really pissed me off was how no one took my side. How no one defended me. How no one checked up on me after I ran to my room and cried." A tear ran down your cheek. You couldn't tell if it was from anger or sadness.

Hobie sat up and cleared the tear away from your cheek. "C'mon Tinkerbell, let's get outta here," He said, while getting up and stretching.

"And go where?" you got up as well.

"Anywhere. It's clear everyone here is bonkers." He started walking towards your window.

"Okay, just gimmie a sec!" You ran to grab your wallet and phone and followed him out the window.

You were now atop the bat signal, next to Hobie.

After raiding a gas station for its snacks (which you knew Alfred would never approve of) you guys were just sitting down in silence.

It was pretty nice, you were leaning on Hobie as he lit up what you thought was a cigarette.

Turns out it wasn't. You realized as soon as the smell of weed hit you.

You watched as he passed you the blunt, "Want a hit?"

You hesitated for a moment. What would your family think about this?

Hobie saw you hesitating, and not wanting to make you uncomfortable said "Don't do it if you don't want to."

You decided to do it.

Fuck what your family thinks about this.

Fuck your family. Fuck them all. Fuck Damian, fuck Dick, fuck Jason, fuck Bruce, and fuck Alfred.

They didn't care, they didn't defend you, they don't notice you, why would they notice or care about this?

They were probably dressed in their stupid spandex costumes beating people up.

A long time ago you longed and begged to be one of them.

What is the worst that can happen anyway?

"pass me it."

Hobie then taught you how to do it. It was a bit scary for you, you haven't ever smoked or done weed or anything before.

You took a hit and immediately started coughing.

"You alright there, luv?" You gave him a thumbs up before taking a couple more hits and getting a hang of it.

You guys started devouring the snacks and telling dumb stories.

You fell off due to jumping to the light from the batsignal suddenly turning on and scaring you. You laughed when Hobie had to pick you up from the rooftop.

You could stay like this forever, just you and your big brother.

hi guys heres some fluff and angst

i feel like since writing these silly little stories my writing has gotten a tiny bit better

im not sure tho

anyways anon ty again i loved writing this

taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!):@bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (49/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Climbing up the mountain can be very freeing.

Warnings: angst (self-doubt, insecurities, mentions of abuse in a relationship, Charles is very insecure about himself), the end is a bit fluffy, but don't expect too much

Word Count: 4.1k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: I feel like this describes Charles well. I cried when writing this chapter. I hope you like it. feedback is appreciated.

It is the first time in years that Charles has no desire to climb the mountain on those stupid skis. 

His feet hurt, he is cold even though the jacket he is wearing is suitable for even colder temperatures, and his hands are so stiff from the frigid air that they painfully curl around his ski poles. 

The snow blinds him because of the bright sun, his bones feel heavy, somehow his mouth is so dry that he would like to rinse it with water every five meters.

But maybe that's just because he'd rather be at home in Monaco. Because that's where you are. And there is no place he would rather be right now. 

Closing the door behind him and leaving you alone in the apartment was incredibly difficult. He would have loved to put you in his bag and take you with him, but you would only have distracted him from training. 

And if he wants to be world champion one day, he can't afford to make any mistakes. 

It's been two days since he's seen you and heard your voice. In the morning, when he wakes up and gets ready for the day, you are still fast asleep, and during his training, Andrea has his phone so that Charles can collect his thoughts and stay focused. Only in the evening, when Charles is in bed, he manages to text you a few messages before falling asleep, cell phone in hand, completely exhausted. 

He misses you every second. 

Before he met you, he would never have imagined that he could miss someone he had only known for a few days so much. He had missed Annika from time to time, after all, he had definitely loved her at some point, but he had never longed for her or anyone else the way he did for you now. 

As soon as he has a moment to himself, whether it's in the shower or on the toilet or when Andrea isn't bothering him with calories or carbohydrates or protein for a moment, he misses you so much that he can almost feel the physical distance between you. 

But most of all, he misses you in the morning when he wakes up. When he is in that one second when he is neither sleeping nor fully awake. Snuggled up warm in the blanket and against the pillow, where in the evening he imagines it would be your body that he is snuggling up to. And in the morning, for a brief moment, it feels as if you are actually lying next to him, which is why the second he realizes that you are miles away from him hurts the most. 

“Are you okay?” Andrea asks, who has slowed down a little to run up the hill next to Charles. ”You're suspiciously quiet.”

Charles, who hasn't realized that he has slowed down at all, looks at his trainer in confusion. “Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?”

Andrea shrugs. ”Usually you're chattering away at me during training. That usually helps you to distract yourself from how exhausting it is.”

He has a point there. Charles pushes himself forward on his skis. “I don't know. This time I don't feel like you're torturing me up this mountain. It's still the same route we usually take, isn't it?” He looks around as if he can recognize the surroundings. 

Andrea raises his eyebrows and also picks up the pace. ‘We're in a completely different area, Charles.’ He points to another mountain with his gloved hand.

If his friend hadn't told him, the man from Monaco would never have noticed, so absorbed is he in his thoughts about you. The mountain Andrea is pointing to seems more familiar to him than the one in front of them. And a lot smaller. If they had taken the familiar route, they would have been at the summit long ago. 

“You asshole,” Charles curses and wipes his face. ‘Why did you choose a different mountain? And especially one that's higher?”

Andrea can't help but grin. ’You came in second in the championship this year. I'm hoping that if we increase your training, you'll come in first next season and...”

“And what?” Charles interrupts his trainer. "The whole thing is useless if my strategists and the whole team mess up so much during the race. I can train as much as I want. It won't work." He gets so caught up in it that he doesn't notice how quickly he pushes himself up the mountain on his skis. 

“Charles –”

“No, Andrea. This whole thing cost me the title. Wrong tires? Last-minute changes in the pit? What the hell?” he gets worked up. He knows that his anger is unfairly directed at the wrong person, after all Andrea is only there for Charles's well-being and not for what happens on the track, but it just comes spilling out. And he can't stop it. 

His ski poles dig deep into the white snow, which Charles barely notices. He only sees the summit in front of him and hears Andrea breathing loudly next to him as he continues to complain. 

“It's not right that I come in second because of such little things! If I had caused accidents, then at least it would have been my fault and I could have dealt with it more easily,” he says, annoyed. ”But what kind of stupid plans were these, anyway? Even a toddler could come up with a better strategy!”

Andrea, who knows full well that Charles needs to vent his anger, walks quietly beside him and lets the storm pass over him. It's not often that Charles gets this angry. And normally he blames himself, but he certainly doesn't take such serious mistakes on his head. 

Charles knows that making mistakes is an inevitable part of competition, and sometimes, they're the difference between standing at the top of the podium and finishing second. Being the runner-up in a championship can feel bittersweet – so close to victory, yet just short of it. 

Being second in the championship feels like a mix of pride and frustration. On one hand, Charles has achieved something incredible – outperforming almost everyone, proving his skill and showing that he deserves to sit in the red car with the horse on it. But on the other hand, there's that lingering thought inside of his head – he was so close. The tiniest mistakes, the small miscalculations in his strategies, or someone else having a slightly better day made the difference in the end. 

There's this ache inside of him, knowing he was almost the champion. The podium felt different when he looked up at Max Verstappen holding the trophy he desperately craved. Charles felt a lot of things in that moment – disappointment, regret and even anger – at himself, the situation, the team and at the margin that kept him from winning. 

“I could have won the title. Max will definitely win the next season too, as strong as Red Bull is. How will I ever live up to my reputation then?” He clenches his jaw. ”I feel like I'm stuck with what I'm doing now. And I'm doing my best, Andrea. I really am. But it's apparently not enough. Do you know how incredibly frustrating that is?”

Being second carries a unique weight – a strange middle ground between triumph and heartbreak. And hell, Charles heart broke with every race that put more distance between his and Max's points. He feels like a failure, like he failed his team, his family and friends. He failed his fans, that support him through every decision he makes on and off track, that defend him whenever he makes a mistake during races. 

And it haunts him. What if he had pushed just a little harder, made one less mistake, reacted a second faster? What if he made a different decision that would've outweighed the mistakes his team made? What if he became world champion in the famous red car he worked so hard to get into? The famous red car that his dad loved so much?

Disappointing his dad was the worst part of it all. It was a different kind of pain, heavy and crushing. It's not just about failing at something – Charles feels like he simply isn't good enough. Like he let someone down who believed in him. He could have been champion this year – he was so close to standing on top of the podium. What if he never gets this close to winning? What if he never holds the big trophy in his hands, dedicating it to his dad, who always wanted to see him drive in the Ferrari?

Charles' anger has been building up for so long that he doesn't know where to put it. If only he had concentrated more on the season and hadn't been so distracted by his personal problems - 

“And Annika. What a waste of time the whole thing was. I should never have gotten involved with her. I should have ended the relationship when I realized that she wasn't the one. When I realized that I couldn't give her the attention that a healthy relationship requires.”

Charles would never admit it, but Annika’s betrayal in their relationship cut deeper than expected. It’s not just about broken promises – it’s about broken trust, the foundation of any meaningful connection. It shook everything Charles believed to be true about Annika – or love in general. 

The worst part wasn’t the act itself or that he caught them right in the act, but the realization that someone he trusted with his heart made the choice to hurt him. After the break-up he questioned everything – was any of it real? Was Annika lying to him the whole time? Even after everything, the wounds linger. 

Some betrayals are survivable with time and effort, but others leave scars that never fully heal. They change people – it changed Charles. It hardened his heart, made love feel dangerous to him and made him create walls where there once was openness. 

He guarded himself like a survival instinct. At first, it was solely for protection – he told himself that if he didn’t let anyone in, nobody could hurt him. The walls became his shield, keeping out disappointment, rejection, and the risk of being vulnerable again. 

But over the course of the weeks, Charles noticed the walls he put up brick by brick didn’t just keep the pain out – they kept everything out. Love. Connection. The chance to feel something real. Hell, he didn’t even tell his Maman that he was back home in Monaco. He pushed his family away, his friends, acting cold and distant – not because he didn’t want love, but because he’s so scared of what happened when he let someone else in. 

It took Charles some time to figure out the truth, that the walls didn’t keep him safe and sound – they kept him stuck. They stopped him from healing, from growing, from experiencing the things that make life meaningful. But he was so scared of breaking them down when it took him so long to put them up, that he didn’t know what to do when he met you. 

It was terrifying, letting you in slowly and hesitantly. He’s spent so long guarding himself, convincing himself that no one except his close ones can be trusted, that it almost felt unnatural to let you in. At first, he resisted, kept his distance. But the fact that you didn’t even know who he was felt so good, made him feel safe to share his story with you and then – you stayed. You didn’t push too hard, but you didn’t walk away either. 

Surely, this friendship has had it’s ups and downs, but this is what happenes when two people, who protected themselves so much that they become too careful, too hesitant to let someone in fully. 

And instead of forcing your way through, you waited. You were there. You proved in small, consistent ways, that you’re not like the woman who made him built those walls in the first place. 

And then, without realizing it, he stopped expecting the worst. He let you see his wounds, his fears, his past, and instead of running, you stayed. You stayed with him through awkward dinner conversations about his ex, you stayed with him when he didn’t correct his family about your relationship status, you stayed when he overstepped the boundaries of your friendship. Your gentle touch, your honest conversations while burning Annika’s things. 

You stayed when he revealed to you who he really is. You see him – the real him – and don’t flinch at what you see. Little by little, cracks form in his defenses. He finds himself wanting to trust again, to love again, even though it scares him to death. 

When you look at him, it feels like sunlight creeping through the cracks in the fortress he thought were unbreakable. It was unsettling at first after being in the dark for some time. But you didn’t break down his walls in a dramatic, earth-shattering way. 

It was quiet. Subtle. It sneaked up to him in moments he didn’t even realize – they way you looked at him when he played your song on the piano in the bookshop, when you let him hold you while you cried like his arms were the safest place in the world, when you showed him that you want him for who he is. 

But even though you broke down most of his walls, he still can’t admit that you’re all he needs. 

He can’t let you in fully after what Annika did to him, he can’t let you touch him like he wants you to. He can’t let himself feel so much for you because what if those feelings he has for you – the feelings he swore he’d never harbour for anyone again – are not enough for you?

What if he gives you his all and you decide that it’s not enough? That he is not enough? He can’t tell you why he doesn’t want you to touch him, because what if you’ll see him differently? What if the things he wants, he needs, are different from what you want? 

He feels like he isn’t good enough. The scars Annika left on him made him question his worth, his value, his ability to be loved. There are moments where he feels too far gone, too damaged, not strong enough to break free from the fear of losing you that he’d rather keep you at arms length hurting himself than push you away and out of his life. 

He can’t let you touch him after Annika, because sex with her felt wrong, like he was broken because he wanted different things than her. Because he craved intimacy like his life depended on it, the safety that comes with it, but it always felt like he needed to deliver, even if he didn’t want to. It felt like a chore, no gentle touches or loving words, only demanding hands and lips and thighs and he swore to himself he’ll never let it happen again. 

If you don’t touch him at all, there’s no chance you could hurt him like that.

He’d rather give you all he’s able to give instead of letting you return anything.

“I could have waited for…”

“Charles.” Andreas‘ voice is gentle and soothing, in contrast to Charles’. When the man from Monaco looks at his friend, he smiles at him. ”We're here.”

The wind howls at the summit, biting and cold, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel it. He can’t feel anything except the weight that presses down on his chest. He stands there on top oft he world – and all the space in the world couldn’t quiet the chaos inside him. 

Andrea chose this route to help Charles clear his head, the mountain was supposed to be his escape, his victory. He climbed every inch of it, each slide of his skis pushing him further from the mess he feels inside. The view from the top is actually breathtaking: endless stretches of jagged peaks, skies that feel closer than ever. He should feel something – pride, accomplishment, freedom. But instead, there’s only the overwhelming silence that gnawed at him. 

For a moment, everything is still. He pulls his beanie and glasses from his head, closing his eyes and trying to ground himself in the beauty around him, but the images, the memories, everything – it all comes flooding back. The things he can’t outrun. The words that had been sad. The choices that had left him fractured and alone. 

A sob caught in his throat, sharp and unexpected and he falls to his knees in the white snow at his feet. The tries to fight it, but the tears come anyway – slow at first, then faster and harder. They burn against the cold wind, mixing with the salt of the sweat on his skin – and he can’t stop them. 

They stand for everything he hasn’t been able to say, everything he has be scared to face. He thought he could bury it, hide it behind the walls he built, behind the distance from it all. 

His hand tremble on his thighs, his chest tightening with every broken breath. His vision blurred, the edges oft he mountain fading into the background. It doesn’t matter that he’s at the top – he feels smaller than ever. The tears slip down his cheeks like a rush of a river too long dammed. 

„I’m not enough“, he whispered almost unaudibly. A confession only the mountains and his friend could hear. „I’m never going to be enough.“

The world stretched out before him, magnificent and indifferent, and in that moment, he realized that being on top oft he mountain didn’t mean escaping it all. He had climbed all this way, but he couldn’t outrun himself. The hurt, the mistakes, the weight of everything he’d buried deep inside. 

He doesnt flinch when he feels Andrea’s hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing and reassuring him that whatever he feels right now is okay. That the tears that fall down onto the snow have their right to exist after being bottled up for so long. 

The sobs faded, leaving him gasping for air in the stillness of the summit. He wiped his face, trying to wipe away the brokennes, but it lingered in his chest. His hands still trembling from the release, from the rawness that had bubbled to the surface. For a long moment, he just sits there, the wind biting at him, the emptiness inside him as a vast as the world stretched out before him. 

And then it hit him, like a sudden punch that knocked the breath from his lungs. 

You. 

Your laugh. Your smile. The way you always seem to know what he’s thinking, the way you care in the quietest ways – how you’ve been there for him, even when he pushed you away. How, despite everything, you stayed. 

He tried so hard to tell himself that he’s better off alone, that he doesn’t need anyone else to fill the empty spaces inside him. He thought he could bury his feelings, run from the truth. He has told himself that love was something to fear, something that could trap him, break him, leave him just as broken as he’d been before.

But now, sitting on top of the world, it all makes sense. 

He loves you. He always has. He can feel it in every part of him, the truth that has been there all along, buried under layers of fear and pride. It’s not something he can outrun, not anymore. He can’t ignore the way his heart always beats faster when you’re near, the way everything seems to fall into place when you smile at him, the way your presence has been the one thing that feels like home. 

The moment of realization hits him like a wave, sudden and overwhelming. It’s undeniable. 

He loves you.

Not in the casual, passing way he once tried to convice himself was enough for his relationship with Annika, but in a deeper, truer sense. It’s always been you – only you. Right from the start when the both of you stood in the small apartment. 

But the weight o fit, the sheer force of that truth, felt like it could crush him, especially when he realizes how long he’s been running from it. 

His heart races, pounding hard in his chest, but it isn’t the kind of excitement he thought would come with such a revelation. Instead, it is quiet terror. The terror of feeling too much. Of feeling anything at all. 

His breath comes in shallow gasps as the cold mountain air cuts through him. It isn’t the altitude or the wind that chills him – it’s the fear of being too vulnerable again. Of letting anyone close enough to hurt him. The thought of telling you, of exposing his raw, vulnerable part of himself, feels like standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to climb back down. 

He stares out over the vast horizon, the world stretching out endlessly beneath him, and for a moment, he considers it. The possibility of going back, of telling you everything he has just realized. But the thought of your eyes on him, the weight of the words, the vulnerability—it‘s too much. Too raw. Too dangerous.

So, he stays silent. He stays with the truth, buried deep inside of him. The love he feels for you is now his secret, locked away like a fragile thing, too delicate to share. He can‘t find the courage to let it out—not now, not after everything that had happened.

But there is something about knowing, about feeling it — just knowing that he can love again — that makes the world feel a little less heavy. It isn’t perfect, and it doesn‘t fix everything, but it is enough. For the first time in a long time, he doesn‘t feel so broken. He isn’t empty. He is filled with something — something soft, something he thought was gone forever.

Maybe he isn’t ready to tell you. Maybe he will never be ready. But the knowledge that love still exists in him — that it can still find him, even after everything — is enough to hold onto for now. It isn’t a victory, not in the way he wants, but it is a beginning. And in that, there is a quiet peace. A peace that, despite all the fear and hesitation, he coul still feel, still hope.

And that, for the moment, is enough.