#it's something they would both have wanted to share

[eowynstwin]

Ghoap x reader. Autistic reader. Christmas angst. Allusions to Ghost’s backstory. Salacious use of ribbon. Soap being inappropriate. NSFW.

Soap fidgets on the train the whole way over to the light show. You don’t notice, of course, your earplugs are in, but Ghost, hypervigilant for the season, cocks an eyebrow.

“Itches like mad,” Soap grouses. He tugs at the collar of his sweater, a ghastly thing in fuzzy green, red, and gold, with LED bulbs embroidered down the front.

Ghost scowls at him. Soap purses his lips, not chastened. You sit between them, oblivious, fingering the zipper of your purse.

There’s enough cheer on the train to make up for their collective lack. More than one person wears a dumb Santa hat, and at least every other has on something colorful and festive. It seems like everyone feels some sort of Christmas spirit but Ghost, and it makes his hackles tense up.

Your hand slips into his then, smooth like silk settling over his palm. He looks at you; your gaze is fixed steadily ahead, unfocused. He’s not sure whether you reached for him to find comfort or offer it, but he closes his fingers around yours anyway.

He looks over—Soap has your other hand. Reaching to find, then. He squeezes.

The three of you wait until the very last moment to disembark when you arrive, letting the crowd out first. Ghost’s choice. The absolute last thing he wants is to lose either you or Soap in the stream of people flowing from the train—Soap will get distracted, and you hate it when strangers crowd you. This is going to be a trial as it is.

Ghost has to admit—once they reach the grounds, the displays are something to see. Together, you walk through a tunnel of lights leading you to the beginning of the walk, rings of warm white gently shining overhead, and Ghost, despite himself, can’t help but admire how it makes both of his partners look like they’re glowing.

Then Soap tugs at his sweater again, and Ghost bites down a growl.

“Oh, hot chocolate,” you say at the end of the tunnel, looking over at a cart laden with a few big steel samovars. “I’m going to get some, either of you want any?”

“Cider,” Ghost says, softening the curtness of his tone with the tenner he hands you. “If they’ve got any.”

“Coffee for me, hen, if you don’t mind,” Soap adds with a smile. You nod, and scurry toward the drinks.

Soap eyes him. Ghost knows what he sees—his back has been ramrod straight since the bloody month started. He holds his shoulders the same way he might if he had his rifle across his chest. His jaw has been hard as a cinder block any time the market clerk tossed “happy holidays” at him when he did his best to get away as fast as he could.

“Don’t,” Ghost says.

Soap says nothing.

This is not their first Christmas together, but it is their first with you. The sergeant already knows how Ghost feels about the holiday; you do not, and Ghost wants to keep it that way for a little while longer.

Divining your feelings about anything takes a little longer than it might with anyone else, but he’s pretty sure you’re excited, in your way. Soap, for whom pine trees and glitter and the smell of snow in the air seem to activate a sleeper agent in his brain that orgasms at the mere sight of tinsel, already has a Wellington resting in their shared fridge, and artfully wrapped presents crammed under their pre-lit tree. The two of you together have flooded the flat with lights, candy-cane frippery, crocheted snowflake doilies, and ski-lodge scented candles.

Ghost, for his part, has scrolled various travel websites to figure out if assassinating Santa Claus is something actually feasible. Maybe if he defeats the final boss of Christmas he can actually sleep through the night at least once this month.

It isn’t that he hates it, exactly. It’s just that Christmas, to him, began as a hazy game of roulette, wondering if the wild animal of his father would appear to ruin the exchange of charity-shop gifts wrapped in reused paper, and then solidified as an image reflected in pools of spreading blood.

The last happy Christmas, he had to burn down. That’s no reason that he has to ruin it for everyone else, though.

You return with three paper cups held awkwardly in your two hands, and Ghost and Soap relieve you of your burden. Your cup has a peppermint stick jutting up out of it, and you use it to stir your steaming drink periodically as the three of you proceed.

The path leads through an army of glowing snowmen in mismatched sizes, life-size gingerbread houses, past multicolor balls tossed across the top of a frozen pond. Trees banded with so many strings they look like branches of lightning reaching up from the earth. Electric snowflakes dangling above your heads from netting stretched between lampposts.

Ghost keeps clenching and unclenching his fist. His cider goes rapidly cold in his other hand, untouched. He probably can’t get his money back for it, but he’s agitated enough to start a fight and try.

Meanwhile—it’s obvious, you’re enjoying yourself immensely. You don’t say much as you flit between installations, running a hand over the glowing bulbs, tilting your head this way and that like a curious little bird. You take your phone out more than once to open your camera, and Ghost knows you’re saving pictures to put together a slideshow later on.

More than once, you look back at him and Soap, and grin wide at some novelty or another. Ghost manages to nod his head at you—go on, little birdie, keep having fun.

“Jesus,” Soap mutters, trying to scratch at a spot on his back for the third time.

“Fuck’s sake, Soap, just take the fucking thing off,” Ghost snaps.

“Canna,” Soap says.

“Why the fuck not?”

Soap’s mouth slants sideways. He looks around for spectators, and, finding none within eyeshot, lifts the bottom of the sweater.

Bright, shiny, very red ribbon runs in two lines along the naked cut of his obliques—down past the waistband of his trousers.

Ghost tosses the cider out of his cup and grips Soap by the back of the neck, throws, “OY! Duckie! Bathroom!” at you, and drags his boyfriend to the nearby public loo.

It’s empty, thank god, so Ghost wastes no time yanking the closure of Soap’s trousers open. The ribbon continues downward, downward, the V narrowing and narrowing until—

It converges in a (somewhat lopsided) bow tied right around the base of Soap’s dick.

“Soap, what the fuck,” Ghost says.

The sergeant backs up, and pulls the sweater fully off. It reveals a latticework of satiny red crisscrossing his chiseled torso: lines of ribbon accenting the curves of his pectorals, his toned abdomen, highlighting the small indent of his trim waist.

Soap’s cheeks flush pink.

“Goes further down,” he mutters, not meeting Ghost’s eye.

“What the fuck,” Ghost repeats.

“Was gonna do a big reveal when we got home,” Soap says. “Start stripping when we got the door closed. That rubbish.”

Ghost, incredulously, snorts, and Soap smiles at him.

“First time you’ve laughed this month,” he says quietly. “S’ why I did it.”

Ghost steps up to him and takes Soap’s chin between thumb and forefinger. “You fucking idiot,” he says, and kisses him.

The bathroom door opens, letting in a gust of wind, and Ghost and Soap jump back from each other momentarily, before relaxing when your voice reaches them.

“There better not be a handjob happening in here without me—oh,” you say, stopping short.

Shoving the waist of his pants down further, Soap turns around to show off to you the full extent of what he’s done. It gives Ghost a good look at the pretty intersections happening overtop of the muscles of Soap’s back, and the dip of the ribbon down between the two perfect globes of Soap’s arse.

You blink several times. “There isn’t a lock on this door, Soap. If I get down to suck you off, someone is going to come in.”

Impossibly, Ghost snorts again, and then laughs for real, a full-belly guffaw that comes out a little more harsh than it should. But you grin at him, and the line of Soap’s shoulders, which Ghost suddenly realizes has been as tense as his this whole time, relaxes.

He pecks the bare swell of Soap’s bicep, and then the crown of your head as he passes you by.

“I’ll hold it closed, duckie,” he says. “Do whatever you want.”

He only leaves the door once when he hears you shriek suddenly with laughter—to find that Soap has decorated his cock with a peppermint-loop of red lipstick, all the way to the tip.

“Fucking idiot,” Ghost repeats, and cancels his trip to the North Pole then and there.

[awrkive]

tlp xmas special — jjk (m.)

hello awrkive nation!!! its late but merry christmas to those who celebrate!! sorry for being ia but heres a christmas gift from me to you 🫣 first of all i genuinely forgot abt the car s*x drabble that won that poll i made a few weeks ago which i promised you guys ISHDJDJ but here it is!! this drabble combines all of these three recurring requests for the tlp couple and this might also be the last drabble im doing for them (for now??) so do enjoy!!

pairing: tlp!jungkook x tlp!oc (main story)

summary: in which jungkook looks way too good carrying your sister's three-year old at her christmas eve party and you can't help but let your mind wander

w/c: 6k (ctfu)

warning/s: explicit sexual content (p in v s*x, car s*x, unprotected s*x, cre*mpie), oc having baby fever lol. genuinely not proofread sorry for any errors!

You find babies mesmerizing. They’re charming, they can be a handful, they’re irresistibly cute; so tiny, yet so loud. But to the core, they somehow manage to be a pure embodiment of joy.

Before Nayeon got pregnant, she shared something about having a “baby fever”. Of course you knew what it meant – but you never really felt it yourself. She said it was something about Minhyuk being such a good husband that she couldn’t wait for him to be a father. Well, you related to that specific part, at least; about your own husband being such a good husband. However, for the past year you’ve become a married couple, you never really thought about having babies. Or him being a father. Or you being a mother. 

It’s not like you don’t want to become a mother, like ever, or have a family with him. It’s just you thought you’re still way too young to be having babies. So you kind of just… gloss or skip over that idea – and for the record, Jungkook’s never brought it up, either. 

It’s not until your sister got pregnant for the second time, though, that you got yourself thinking. Seokjin and her had babies almost four years into their marriage, but it’s not very long until they decided to try again after Nari and now your sister is carrying her baby boy for seven months. 

It brings you here, gathered at their house for Christmas Eve. Your families haven’t arrived yet, but you and Jungkook decided to go earlier than the agreed time to help out with the – admittedly, big preparation. And currently, Jungkook’s got Nari – Seokjin and your sister’s 3-year-old – in his arms, asking for raspberries because Jungkook’s her favorite uncle. (Why wouldn’t he be? He spoils her a lot and carries her around when you come over.) He insisted on looking after her so Seokjin can help your sister out in the kitchen while you’re over at the counter island making some charcuterie.

Seokjin’s helping your sister take out the pies they’ve both prepared, with him guarding her and being extra with it because “my wife is pregnant and I’m growing white hairs because she wouldn’t just let me do everything”. Your sister is just so done chastising him for his overbearing antics, but you guess it’s cute, at the core of it all. You’ve always looked up to their relationship all these years. In fact, you kind of see Seokjin in Jungkook sometimes. Seokjin loves your sister the way Jungkook loves you. 

And then, the thought passes over your head like some form of looming possibility, unsettling yet intriguing. It lingers for a moment, uninvited but persistent, as if life is quietly hinting at something you’ve never truly considered before. The idea of a baby, of parenthood, feels distant but somehow more tangible now—like a door you never saw, now standing slightly ajar, waiting for you to decide whether to step through.

Would Jungkook be just as (lovingly) overbearing if you were pregnant? You imagine he’d be even more annoying about it. It’s rare for you to get sick, but when you do, Jungkook practically flips the house upside down just to make sure you don’t have to lift a finger. Takes care of you so seriously, as if the illness would never go away on its own in a few days. So what would it be like if you were carrying his child? Would he act like Seokjin does now, always hovering with a hand on your back, supporting your every move, scolding you if you try to do anything that requires even a little bit of effort?

The thought makes your lips curl. Because he probably would. You know he will. 

And as you look at him from across the room, carrying Nari around effortlessly against his body with one arm, with his red long-sleeve polo shirt pushed up to his forearms, white slacks, and freshly cut hair slicked to perfection for tonight’s occasion, he looks… delectable. 

Like a DILF. 

Except he isn’t a dad. 

But god, would you really, really like to fuck him. 

(And would he look way hotter if he – say – gave you a child?)

“Is it done?” Your sister interrupts your thoughts – thankfully, might you add. Because it’s going in a direction that’s way too inappropriate for a family occasion like this, and you need to be family friendly tonight for this Christmas party. 

When you turn around to see if she was talking to you, you find her looking at her husband instead, and with her stance and the tone of her voice, you know it doesn’t sound good. 

“Yeah. I think I just need to add a little more—” 

“Jin,” she says, sounding a little distressed. “Hurry. And make sure it’s perfect, okay? Everyone’s arriving in fifteen, and this is the first time I’m hosting Christmas and I really, really don’t want to disappoint your family and Jungkook’s parents and mom and—” 

“Hey,” You see Seokjin put a hand on the lower part of your sister’s back, effectively cutting her off. Gently, he tells her, “Everything’s perfect, alright?” 

Soft tunes of Christmas songs are playing all over the huge open space of their house, and you know you’re not supposed to listen in to the conversation given that they’re spoken in an almost hushed manner as some sort of discretion, but you can’t help but notice when she turns to Seokjin to give him a downturned smile.

“I just really want to give this my all…” 

He smiles down at her reassuringly. “You have, honey. Let’s not stress, okay? Not good for baby, remember?” Then, he begins to rub her protruding belly, and you see her visibly relaxing to his touch. 

You turn around quickly to not get caught watching, only to be welcomed with Jungkook making a beeline towards you, with Nari still in his arms. 

“Hi, baby,” Your sister automatically greets Nari, cooing at her, mood immediately picking up. The bright-eyed little girl lights up at the sight of her mommy, making grabby hands instantly. Laughing, Jungkook hands her to Seokjin, who receives his daughter and kisses her chubby cheeks with a smack. 

“What were you up to with uncle JK, little missy?” Seokjin says, swaying her side to side. 

Jungkook leans his elbow on the island while looking at the pair, smiling widely.

“Uncle JK said he’s giving me three presents! Three! I wanna open them!” She holds up three fingers, and you giggle at her cuteness.

Your sister softly laughs in response. “Your uncle likes to spoil you, sweetie. But we’ll open them later, okay?”

“Why not now?” She whines, and you smile at how seriously she takes it. “I want three presents!”

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin laughs, “You’ll have lots of surprises when the grandmas and grandpas get here. But we need to change into your dress first.”

Nari giggles. “You? You’re gonna wear a dress too?”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, why not?”

She shakes her head, still giggling, her pigtails swaying as she does so. God, she looks like a combination of Seokjin and your sister that it’s so uncanny sometimes.

“You’re so silly, daddy.”

Seokjin feigns shock. “Silly? Just wait, Uncle JK and I are going to be Ariel and Belle for New Year’s! Right, Jungkook?” He looks over at Jungkook, who widens his eyes comically.

You laugh, and Jungkook adds, “Well, I wanted to be Cinderella, but sure, I’ll be Belle.”

Nari gasps dramatically, putting her hand over her mouth. “But she’s my favorite, Uncle JK! You can’t be her!”

She’s such a cute kid – and you know everybody in the room agrees. No doubt her mom and dad think so, but when you look over at Jungkook, he’s cheesing really hard – with his nose scrunched into that expression of cute aggression. 

“These two boys are silly.” Your sister interrupts with a playful roll of her eyes. She looks at her husband Nari, “Honey, take Nari upstairs and dress her up, please.”

“I can wear my new dress now?!” Nari shrieks, excitement showing with the way she wiggles in her father’s hold.

“Absolutely, baby, and the sparkly white shoes, too,” Seokjin nods. You all coo when Nari lets out an adorable, delighted “yay!” at the words, already leaning towards the direction of the stairs and telling her father to hurry. With a chuckle, Seojin turns to you. “Alright. And Jungkook, please help her with the food.” Seokjin’s gaze falls to your sister, a reminder before he goes completely.

“She’s so cute, I can’t.” Jungkook chuckles.

“Right… my sister was definitely not that cute when we were younger.” you tease, earning an arched brow to your way from your sister. 

“I was the cuter one between us, it’s an established fact,” she rolls her eyes. “When you two get a kid, it better look like Jungkook.” 

Maybe the remark sounded like such a throw-away comment that Jungkook just laughs it off as if it isn’t the first time somebody hinted at you two starting a family. Or maybe he just thinks it isn’t a big deal. Or maybe… maybe he likes the idea? 

You’re about to say something when your sister turns to you.

“You,” she takes you by the shoulders and you look back at her. “You might want to retouch your make-up. Party’s starting soon. And this charcuterie looks—” she looks to the side as if to check if Nari is still around, and when she deems she isn’t at all, she continues to say, “fucking perfect. I love you.” 

“Duh.” you reply, cockily showing off the board to her and to Jungkook who intriguingly looks at your work. 

“I knew you should have been a chef.” Jungkook comments proudly, grinning at you.

“Alright, man,” your sister says in a flat tone, making Jungkook and you laugh. “Jungkook, can help me transfer these to the dining table, please?” She points to the trays of food and Jungkook rounds the counter so he can do just as she requested. 

Before you can head to the powder room, Jungkook brushes past your waist – just one of the candid things he does to have some sort of physical contact with you when you’re not necessarily talking together or close to each other.

It puts a smile on your face as you enter the powder room. 

Inside, you make quick work of putting another layer of lipstick and pressing powder on your face, checking your hair before you stand upright and look at your reflection in the mirror.

You step backwards enough to see half of your body, and from there, you can see how beautiful you look in the outfit you’ve chosen for tonight. It’s a satin red dress with a halter neckline, the gathered drape cascading gracefully around your neck, exposing your shoulders. The silhouette fits at the waist and flows into a straight skirt that stops inches below your knees, and Jungkook may have had a hard time letting you go in your bedroom before you drove to your sister’s place – but you promised him a good time when you get back home so in the end, he had to tuck in a semi on the way from here.

Poor Jungkook. 

Though… you’re beginning to think poor you, instead.

Because you’re thinking about it again. Him in his outfit tonight; the silk polo so he can match yours, and the way he looked so good with a baby girl in his strong arms. 

You can already picture how good he'd look with his own child. He’d be the type of dad who looks effortlessly hot with a baby carrier, showers his kids with gifts because he can’t help himself, and simply excels at being a wonderful father because he’s Jeon Jungkook and he excels in everything he sets his mind to.

Now your brain’s going on a haywire. 

Because now it’s just Jungkook. Hot Jungkook. Jungkook with a baby. Jungkook looking smoking hot carrying his own baby – your baby. 

And wouldn’t it be nice? To carry a being formed by your mutual love? To have someone as adorable and smart and sassy as Nari? God. You hope she’d look like you, but have Jungkook’s eyes because they are your favorite part of him, and then his nose, maybe? And… and maybe have the mole under his lip too, if that was possible. Jungkook had a lot of hair when he came out of his mom’s womb, would your daughter have a lot of hair as well when you give birth to her? 

And why are you already thinking of the gender of your non-existent child? 

You think you’ve gone nuts, but the indulgent little devil on your shoulder is insisting that Jungkook would look so good with a baby girl because you know he’d be such a girl dad. There’s just absolutely no doubt about it, given how he treats Nari. 

You stare at yourself in the mirror again, and absentmindedly, you turn to the side, noting the very clear absence of a bump on your stomach unlike your sister’s. 

Would you carry a baby as gracefully as her? You know her struggles… but… maybe you won’t mind it with a husband like Jungkook… right? Just like she doesn’t mind with a husband like Seokjin. Because Jungkook takes really good care of you. He’d probably panic more than you about certain things. Be extra careful for the both of you. Fetch you your cravings. Love you more than he does now. 

You remember Seokjin rubbing a gentle hand over your sister’s bump, and it brings your own to caress the flat of your stomach over the smooth fabric of your dress. 

Obviously no baby there. But… just imagine. You with a baby bump.

Hah. 

Weird, because it’s the first time the idea’s planted in your head and you kind of like it more than you thought. 

You nibble on your bottom lip as you continue to caress your tummy, not noticing the knock that came from outside. 

“Oh my—” 

“Baby?” 

“Jungkook.” Your hands retreat back to your sides. When you look at Jungkook, standing on the doorway, you let one hand clutch at your chest as you tell him, “You scared me.” 

The door clicks as he locks it behind him. Your husband arches his brow as he goes over to you. “What are you so jumpy for?” 

You ignore the question, looking back to the mirror again to fix your dress. But as you do so, you see his reflection – and you catch how he intently stares at you through the glass as well, walking behind you closer and pressing himself against you. His proximity suddenly makes you nervous.

“You should’ve knocked.” 

“I did. You didn’t answer.” 

“I didn’t hear.” When you turn around, Jungkook takes a curled strand of hair over your face and tucks it behind your ear. 

“You look beautiful. So gorgeous.” He says before he wraps his arms around your waist and presses a kiss to your lips, one that you welcome fully even though you just reapplied your lipstick. When you break away, you see some remnants on his lips… and realize you picked the wrong lipstick for tonight. You should’ve brought the kiss-proof lippy instead.

You wipe it off and Jungkook smiles before he ducks down, not caring, and kisses your cheek for good measure before he speaks again, “What were you doing in here?” He wiggles his eyebrows, as if he knows you were up to something before he barged in. 

You avoid his gaze and turn back around. 

“Nothing,” You say, trying to busy yourself with your hair again. But Jungkook can be really annoying when he wants to be, so of course he pushes, quite literally and figuratively. 

“What was it? I saw you…” He teases, pushing his nose in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tightening his hold around you. 

“What did you– Jungkook!” You half-snort and scoff when Jungkook bites your neck playfully. You turn around to push him, but he’s insistent on keeping the nonexistent space between you and cages you in his big presence instead, trapping you in between the edge of the sink and the heat of his body. 

“This damn dress…” Jungkook whispers as he splays his hand over your stomach, which makes your breath hitch. 

Did he really see? See you pretending to have a baby bump at the thought of him impregnating you? 

But Jungkook doesn’t really say anything further, just lets an idle finger run over the curve of your hips up to your waist, until it stops at the exposed skin of your shoulder. 

“Can’t wait to fuck you in this.” He whispers in your ear, eyes meeting your gaze in the mirror, not subtle in the way he checks out your body after. 

You huff out a scoff, giving a little more force into the push that you give him this time. His more relaxed hold on you makes him stumble a little bit backwards, chuckling when you roll your eyes at him once again. 

“You’re not even gonna take it off me?” You ask as your turn on the tap, arching your brow at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror. 

A sly smirk makes an appearance on his lips. “I don’t need to take anything off to make you cum, baby.” 

You turn around, leaning on the sink. “So you’re saying you’re not interested at all about my very elaborate choice of underwear tonight, then?” 

That catches him off guard, his brows furrowed in confusion and then realization.

“You minx.” 

You chuckle, swatting his hand away when he tries to touch you. When he whines, you take a step forward and wrap your arms around his neck, and Jungkook’s predictably eager to encircle your waist in his arms back again. 

“Later. We have to keep it PG for at least three hours tonight. And you can—” you push at his chest for leverage so you can lean down a little to ride your dress up your thighs. Looking at Jungkook, you watch as he stares at you closely, intently, but oblivious to what you’re doing. He clearly enjoys it, though, judging from the hint of a smile on his lips and the shine in his eyes when more of your skin gets revealed. 

Especially when he catches a glimpse of your white lace underwear that he bought for you himself.

He whistles, and you roll your eyes at the predictable reaction. Taking one of his hands off you, you guide it in between your thighs, earning an involuntary moan from you because Jungkook’s palm automatically cups your heat when he gets close. 

“Ah…” 

“Fuck…” Jungkook looks down where his hand meets your core. “Goddamn,” He says, then you feel him push your panties to the side, dipping the tip of his finger in your pussy. “Why the fuck are you so wet, baby?”

“Y-yeah…” You whine against his chest, gripping his wrist when he attempts to move again. “Kook, don’t.” 

Jungkook halts. He looks at you. Then, he nods. “Alright. Alright. Stop this here?” 

“Hm.” 

He looks down at you with an arched brow. “You started it, though.” 

“You were being flirty.” You say as Jungkook brings your underwear back in place, but not without squeezing your ass first. You nibble on your bottom lip as he rides down the dress, letting it dangle on your knees back again, smoothing the front for you to get rid of the wrinkles. 

“Not my fault you’re hot,” he snorts. “Fuck.” 

“What?” 

“I’m kinda hard…” He says, and you both look down to the bump on his white slacks. Certainly not his full potential (like… you’d know), but it’s still apparent in the light color of his trouser. 

“Poor baby,” you say, can’t help but pat it a little condescendingly which earns a chuckle from Jungkook, him playfully swatting your hand away. 

“You’re so…” 

“I’m so what.” 

Jungkook’s face is a mixture of frustration and amusement. “You always do this shit.” 

You giggle, knowing exactly what he means. But you act like you have no clue. “What?” 

“Get me horny then leave.” He shakes his head, then pokes your waist. 

Chuckling, you kiss him on the cheek quickly, making a beeline to the door quickly lest he tries to kiss you again (and you’ll have no choice but to make out in your sister’s powder room, during her big Christmas party, mind you) and then give him a wink before you go.

 

The ride on the way home felt like it took sixty five years, and it might just be true especially when you’re horny as hell and you got a husband behind the steering wheel looking effortlessly hot in his element. 

You’ve been hot and bothered for hours, and maybe it’s the champagne – probably has gotten in your brain or whatever – but Jungkook was not even done parking when you made a move to palm him over the console. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook hissed, clearly not expecting it at all. He had that wide-eyed look when he frantically turned off the engine, staring at you while your hand grew heavy on his crotch. “Here?” You bit on your bottom lip as you nodded your head. He looked beyond conflicted. “But baby, we’re just ten floors away from our u–”

“Please?” 

And what was he supposed to say? No? 

Absolutely not. Not when your glassy eyes looked so pleading the way they did.   

He just makes your insides churn, especially when you look at him. And for the past few hours, you couldn’t stop thinking about his dick inside you and most especially his cum. (Translation: You can’t stop thinking about him fucking a baby into you).

But… the thing was, you’ve only ever fucked in a car once.

Jungkook’s way too pesky about stuff like that, and somehow, even though he’s already been made aware of your exhibitionist tendencies (cue unprompted sex in public areas like that one time in the beach, window sex at a Ritz hotel back in London and… admittedly many more…) car sex was just… a least favorite. The first and only time you did it was when you were still fresh into dating; at a drive-thru cinema, but it was kind of a whack in both your opinions because it was too cramped up and you bumped your head and you almost got caught which is way too embarrassing of a memory to ever revisit. 

But now maybe that really doesn't matter anymore.

Not when your husband looks like that.

And bottomline is: you just really, really want him to cum in you. 

Oh god. What is wrong with your head tonight? 

“Baby, fuuuck,” Jungkook hisses as you speed up your rhythm up and down his cock. His boxers and slacks are pushed down to the middle of his thighs while his shirt is all but buttoned. Meanwhile, your dress is bunched up in your mid-section. 

You’re near tears on his lap at this point, already feeling your thighs straining at the force you’re exerting in every bounce – but you couldn’t care less. 

“Oh my god, baby– you feel so good,” you moan, eyes shutting close at the feel of his tip hitting that spot inside you whenever you go down.

For the first few minutes, Jungkook took it upon himself to guide your hips in every movement just like he always does when you ride him like this, pounding into you from underneath, but he eventually let you control the pace, leaning way back to the reclined seat and watches you work instead. He stares at you with hooded eyes as you push yourself up and down on his hardened cock, stiletto heels digging the side of his thighs occasionally.

While you pleasure yourself on him, he slides your dress up further, gets a little frustrated that it’s tight on the waist so he can’t push it past your tits. So he feels for your nape to find the zipper because he knows it’s there – he zipped you up in this dress before you drove to your sister’s place – and he delights when he finds the small, cold material, pulling it down blindly until you noticed and help him get yourself out of it. 

Jungkook sighs when the top comes down, snapping the clip of your sleeveless bra and getting it out of the way before he greedily fondles your now bare breasts in his huge palms. 

“Ohh,” you moan when Jungkook flicks your nipples, getting them even harder. You push yourself back, leaning into one elbow on the steering wheel as you begin to rock against him in a back and forth motion,

“Fuck—” Jungkook lets out a guttural groan, squeezing your tits tighter that makes you keen in want. “So fucking sexy, baby. Shit – damn – l-love you.” 

“I-I love you too,” you say, more like a whine, chasing a high he knows is impending. 

Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes. Your hair that was once tidy and neat three hours ago is now all over the place, the high bun loosening and some strands falling off your pretty face. Your lipstick smudged and he’s sure the remnants are on his lips, and with your mouth agaped in that erotic o-shape while you pleasure yourself on his cock, Jungkook feels like exploding. 

“Ah– shit,” he groans, feeling the warm crevice of your wet pussy swallow him whole. When you climbed over his lap a while ago after he fingered you, he was gonna take out a condom from the glove compartment but you insisted to not use it, and the picture of you looking down while he pushed your panties to the side and looked into each other’s eyes as you sank down on him is still playing in his head like a broken record.

God fuck damn, you’re just so unreal. The love of his life. His wife. 

He wipes your tear-stained cheeks, torn because he doesn’t like seeing you cry but he does like it when it’s because you’re so eager to bounce on his cock that even though you know you’re pushing it, you continue to do so.

Jungkook lets his hand travel from a boob to linger on your cheek, and he keens on the way you purr when you lean into his touch, smiling slightly when you open your mouth as his thumb nears it. 

You eagerly suck it as if verbally prompted, opening your eyes just so you can stare at his as you lewdly slobber over his finger while you expertly move against his cock, breasts jiggling up and down right in front of his face – the obscene squelches of your lovemaking filling the air of his cramped up benz. 

“You’re so perfect, baby,” Jungkook whispers. “Perfect girl. You love bouncing on my cock, love? Just couldn’t wait until we get home? Hm?” His tone is a bit condescending and cocky. 

When Jungkook takes out his finger from your mouth, you bite your lip as you nod, resuming your up and down motion again. Slamming down on his dick, your hands come up to grip his shoulders tight. 

“We are home.” 

Jungkook chuckles, a rich and dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. A snarky remark gets buried in your throat when you feel a certain zap of electricity coming from your toes to your spine, the hot coil in your stomach edging to burst.

“I’m cumming– oh my god, Jungkook– baby I’m cumming—” You say, speeding up your pace once again. 

With your breasts bouncing in front of his face like that, he couldn’t help but dive right into it, wrapping his lips around one nipple, nipping and sucking and licking, while he busies one hand with fondling the other. He alternated in between both tits, groaning and grunting when your pussy tightens around him, and one more slam on his cock gets you spiraling as you finally cum. 

Jungkook closes his eyes when he feels you gush around him, and he really wishes that he could lay you down, spread you out, and eat the slick right out of you just like how he likes it.

“That’s it, baby – fuck. Good girl, good girl.” 

A long, drawl-out moan slips past your lips, and Jungkook takes it upon himself to keep you bouncing on his cock when your energy dwindles down, rocking his hips upwards, just as eager to reach his high as well. 

You try to pick up your pace to help him, planting your palms on his bare chest to meet his thrusts. 

“Fuck baby, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” Jungkook says in a hushed whisper, groaning, squeezing your ass tight that you know will leave marks the next day. 

“I know, baby – cum for me,” You lean down to capture his lips, whimpering when you feel yourself still coming down from your high.

“Ohh fuuck—” Jungkook moans, a tell-tale sign of his orgasm. “Fuck, I’m cumming—” 

It’s almost second nature the way he looks down on your crotch, hand going over to where you meet – and you almost panic when you realize what he’s about to do. 

“Jungkook, no,” you stop his hand, and he looks at you with utter confusion, rightfully so. Biting your lip, you stare into his eyes as you say, “I want you to come inside me.” 

You watch as his eyes widen, then, “You sure?” He says with furrowed brows.

You nod your head frantically. “Please come in me. I want your come in me. Please, please—” 

“Jesus fuck—” Jungkook’s hips stutter, his grip on yours tightening, gaze darkening as he processes your words. “Fuck. Okay, baby. No need to beg, okay? Fuck. I’ll come inside you.” 

You speed up your pace and you can feel yourself getting there for a second time, and maybe it’s the heat of the moment, but your next words fall from your lips without much thought: “Yeah, yeah –give it to me, Kook. Want your– ah– want your babies.” 

“Shit.” Jungkook hisses, taken aback by your words. “Fuuuck…” He looks up at you, grabs your waist and makes you lean closer. “You mean that?” 

You nod your head, jumping on his cock up and down like your life depends on it. “Want your babies. Want you to cum in me.” 

“Shiiitt,” Jungkook sighs, and you feel him getting harder by the second. “Gonna– gonna fuck a baby in you, baby. Fuck. You don’t know what you do to me– shit, I’m cumming.” 

You both moan in unison when Jungkook finally releases inside you the same time you do so, his cock hardening in your walls, throbbing when you settle down on his lap with him still buried inside you. When the seconds pass, you feel the exhaustion wrapping around you, and you let Jungkook trail kisses up your shoulders and neck at the post-coital momentum. 

“Fuck, that was so hot.” He whispers against your lips, kissing your parted mouth. You sigh against it, all sweaty and fucked out. 

“Oh, baby…” You moan when Jungkook lifts you up and you feel yourself dripping from your cum. 

“Fucking hell, so beautiful baby...” Jungkook trails off, squeezing your breasts before pushing you gently to lean back on the steering wheel. You look down as you watch with a gasp when he slides his cock out from your heat, covered in white and slick, moaning lewdly when he pumps it out for more. 

Some of it spurts on your pussy, and you stare in awe when Jungkook inserts the tip once again in your heat, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the blurred lines between pleasure and overstimulation. 

“Goddammit.” Jungkook sighs, gratified, tapping his cock on your pussy a few times before he grabs your hips again so he can kiss you on the mouth. It almost gives you whiplash when he looks at you with such sincere and genuine eyes as he says, “I love you.” 

“Love you,” you say, closing your eyes when his kisses trail to your jaw and his hands come up to fondle your tits again. His favorite fixation – his words, not yours. “Kook.” 

“Hm.” 

“Sticky.” 

He hums again. You keep your position like that for a few more seconds before Jungkook helps put your panties and dress back in place, picking you up slightly as you climb over the passenger seat. 

You watch as he pulls his boxers and pants back up, buckling his belt around the waist. He hasn’t fixed the unbuttoned state of his shirt yet before he looks at you again with a smile.

“Come here, you,” He says, beckoning you to come closer with his arm around your seat. You grin, crossing the console again to meet the kiss he gives your mouth. Then, Jungkook breaks the contact, caressing your cheek as he speaks. “Babies, huh?” He brings up, eyes so bright; delighted, excited. He has that unshakeable grin. 

And you can’t help but mirror it. 

“Do you want to?” You ask instead. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you nervously wait for his answer that doesn’t really take that long. 

“Fuck, yeah. If you want to, then I want to,” he responds. Then, he adds, “And I really, really want to.”

“Okay…” you say, biting your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much. “But it doesn’t have to be now. Or I don’t know. I know it’s only been a year since we got married and all that—” 

“Baby, stop,” Jungkook says before you can finish your thought. “Doesn’t matter if we were one month into the marriage. As long as you’re ready, then I’m ready. Are you ready?”

A few beats. 

It was your horny-adled brain that got you in this position in the first place – but you think about how life with Jungkook would be like with kids added in the equation in the near future.

It would be so far from bad. 

The past year had been nothing short of bliss since you married him, and as you watched Jungkook, a thought warmed your heart: he’d be an incredible dad. The way he loves you, so deeply and selflessly, leaves no doubt in your mind that he’d go above and beyond for your child—or children. You’re certain he’d love them as much as he loves you, perhaps even more.

A smile spreads across your face, and you nod to his question.

“I want a family with you, Kook.”

Jungkook’s face lights up with a delighted smile, mirroring yours. “So, we’re doing this?”

You nod again, biting your lip to temper your excitement.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

You blink at him in surprise. “Why are you thanking me?”

He shakes his head with a gentle smile and leans in to kiss you again. “Just… thank you.”

You furrow your brows, squinting at him in playful confusion. Before you can say more, he leans forward and nips the tip of your nose.

“Ow!” you exclaim, laughing.

“You’re cute,” Jungkook teases. “But we’ve gotta clean up and head home. Then, we can keep practicing putting my baby in you—on a nice, comfortable bed this time.” He winks, pecking your cheek as he buttons his shirt and unbuckles his seatbelt.

You snort, rolling your eyes as you do the same. “Admit it, you like car sex.”

Jungkook hums nonchalantly, his cheeky grin giving him away. You chuckle, shaking your head at him, love radiating in every moment between you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Dick, and Jason being told by their shy gn crush that he doesn't need to do it as he's under the mistletoe with them please?

Dick

Jokes on you if you think this man is going to walk away from this golden opportunity that he had been waiting -and planning for- the entire night.

So needless to say this man was both restless and excited that he finally got you under the mistletoe with him, so much so that it was blatantly obvious for all to see that you were the one he wanted under that mistletoe with him, no one else could elicit such a strong reaction out of him like you could.

When you tell him meekly that he didn’t have to do this only made him all the more eager to prove that this was what he wanted to do, for there was no other better time then this for Dick to easily confess or show his innermost love for you.

Dick smiles sympathetically at you as he raises your head by your chin until you were looking at each other in the eyes, his smile becomes more genuine when you did as he leant towards you with the intention of speaking to you without others listening in.

‘Now where did that come from?’ He’d ask softly.

‘I just don’t want you to feel forced into doing anything you didn’t want.’ You reply. ‘I know it’s a tradition but no one should be forced to participate if they don’t want to.’ You then added on.

Dick made a face of thought before pushing his forehead to press against your own as he said. ‘Well what if I did want to do this? What if I sad that I’ve been waiting to do something like this the entire night that I had it planned specifically for us?’

You started into his eyes with confusion and Dick would be lying if he said it wasn’t adorable because it was. ‘Why?’ You ask him and it felt like the funniest thing he was ever told but he quickly composed himself as you would probably take it the wrong way if he did.

instead he just caresses your cheeks when his hands held your face as though it was precious and priceless treasure that he could ever hold within his hands. ‘Maybe because I like you silly and have been thinking about kissing you for a while and thought ‘hey why not kiss under the mistletoe?’ Dick tells you as he chuckles lightly at your wide eyed expression as though silently asking him if he was serious.

And sweetheart this man was more than serious, way more.

‘So cutie, would you mind if I kissed you under the mistletoe?’ He whispered to you, wanting you to have the choice to make your own decision like you gave him the chance to walk away from this, he didn’t want you to do anything you didn’t feel fully comfortable for.

You placed your hands atop of his own and smiled sweetly at him. ‘I wouldn’t mind it at all, as long as it’s you I wouldn’t want anything else.’ You admitted as dick closed the gap between you two as you shared a sweet kiss beneath the mistletoe, bringing forth a beginning of your new relationship with the most beautiful and wonderful man you have ever met.

Jason

Jason wasn’t the type to be caught under the mistletoe whatsoever ever as he tended to masterfully avoid it however he could, kissing under it was not his thing, but thanks to the unspoken feelings he had towards you and suddenly this man is etching towards the doorway with the mistletoe in hopes that he could coincidentally get lucky with having you there.

So when his wish does come true and you’re both under the mistletoe, it’s anything but like the silly movies and cheesy books that Jason read in his free time, that and because they were on clearance sale in the local bookstore to give way for more room for more books in the future.

Jason didn’t want to put you in a position where you would be made to feel uncomfortable or had no choice in the matter, and yet hearing you tell him that he didn’t have to kiss you under the mistletoe as you looked anywhere but him, made his heart hurt as a result but he knew that if he wanted to advance your relationship then sometimes he’ll have to be the one to take the bold step forward.

However if it was for you? Then Jason will gladly be the one to always take that brave step forward to show you that not everything was scary and that some times were worth the risk.

‘Why would you think that I don’t want to do this chipmunk?’ He’d ask you.

‘You don’t like these types of things, force proximity and the social pressures of making two people kiss for the sake of upholding a tradition,’ you shrugged as you burrowed your hands into your hoodie, ‘you just don’t like those types of things as it forces affection and you’d do anything to get out of Dick’s apparent and away from this little get together before he does something…’

‘Stupid? Ridiculous?’ Jason listed off on his fingers.

‘Dick like is more what I was looking for.’ You chuckled as Jason locked eyes with you and suddenly the you were seen, you could see the love within his eyes and suddenly the room felt warmer then usual when Jason reached for your hands within your hoodie to hold them in his own.

‘Well I can tell you that I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but with you, and since your stood here under the mistletoe I am too, where you go I go sweetheart. You can’t get rid of me that easily as I’ll always want to be wherever you are regardless of my feelings towards it or not because all that matters to me is that I have you.’ Jason tells you, finally getting the words that he wanted to get off of his chest at long, long last.

‘Now would you allow me to kiss you under this cheap piece of plastic mistletoe chipmunk.’ Jason then says in a lighthearted tone, smiling in that charming way that always had you feeling butterflies within your stomach. ‘You didn’t need to ask Jason but yes I would love to.’ You replied.

The kiss you both shared under the ‘cheap piece of plastic’ was sweet, tender and addicting all the same as you both smiled against the others lips, happy to know that there would be new journeys ahead of you both that you can walk through together.

[limethefirst]

im sorry i but i have to get in on this sonic movie s shadow train i love this movie so much as well! And ive been dieing for some movie shadow x readers to pop up. Is it alright if i request something? Can we have a shadow the hedgehog x reader where you also are living in the g.u.n base maria and shadow were? Your father or mother being on of the scientists and one day maria and shadow find you alone in a corner of the base writing music or playing with toys something (your marias age). Thrn they introuce themselfs and maybe you become part of their gaggle of fraggles to always being with them to the point your mother and gerald agree for you and maria both to share a room. With you shadow and maria being so close in time till your all like siblings? Idk this just sounded so cute. Thank you of your able to write this!

Birds of a Feather

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader x Maria Robotnik (platonic)

warnings: none!!!

summary: after being brought to work with your mother, Maria and Shadow stumble upon you, deciding to invite you to join their little group, from then on the three of you became inseparable

a/n: this is such a cute request! I was gonna end it with both Maria and the reader dying but I think Shadow has been traumatized enough for now…

“You stay put! I have work to do in the lab okay?” Your mother’s voice was stern; being a single mother was tough, especially because she had no one to take care of you while she did her work. You gave her a small nod, acknowledging her request.

A slight sigh escaped her lips as she lightly caressed your cheek, “Just, behave for me please,” was the last thing she told you before she walked into the door to your right, the words ‘Laboratory’ in bright white above the area.

You slowly sat down on the floor, she’d asked you to not leave and you really wanted to respect her decision, even as a child you knew her life was harder than she’d let on.

Unfortunately you were a child with a small attention span. You dug into your pockets and found a small notebook with equations, probably from your mom and a small pencil. Since there was nothing better to do maybe it was best to just draw a little bit, maybe some flowers and animals you liked.

Sitting there, you slightly hunched over, trying your hardest to draw the most beautiful roses and some bees and landscape you could. Suddenly a voice rang out from above you, “What are you doing here?” Your head snapped up, meeting the eyes of a small blonde girl and a strange black and red hedgehog.

“Uhm my mom works here..” you nervously answered her, “What are you doing here?” You asked her exact question but back at her.

“My grandfather works here!” She proudly exclaimed. The hedgehog looked between the both of you, he stood covered behind her, he had a mean face but you could tell he was more curious than anything.

The girl taking note of the awkward silence decided to introduce herself, “I’m Maria! And this is Shadow! What’s your name?”

You looked between the two, taking in who they were before you quietly responded with your name, Maria let out a big grin and Shadow silently repeated it to himself, “What are you drawing?” Maria asked, looking at the small notebook in your hand. You looked down at it and turned it over so the two could see; it looked like a small rabbit with butterflies and flowers around it, “Woah that looks really cool!”

Shadow silently nodded, agreeing with her. You thanked the two of them, fidgeting with your pencil. As Maria continued to talk you took notice of her outfit, she wore a pastel rainbow long sleeve shirt and loose pants with skates on her feet instead of shoes. She must’ve noticed you staring at them as she suddenly asked, “Do you wanna try them!?”

You hesitantly shook your head, as much as you wanted to you didn’t really know her and if she would even be okay with that. Maria reassured you that it was fine and actually really fun, before you could tell her a definite no she’d already taken them off, placing them in front of you, “Try them! Shadow can pull you around,”

Shadow looked between the both of you, clearly not having agreed but Maria nodded her head yes, leaving Shadow to only agree. Surely your mom wouldn’t notice if you were gone for a quick second.

Once you were geared up and Maria found a rope to tie onto Shadow and for you to hold, she grabbed her timer, “Ready, set, go!!” Before you had time to really brace yourself Shadow had already set off, he ran through the base, his face held a small smile as he checked back a few times to check if you were still holding on.

He saw the wide smile you had, your laughter was echoing throughout the hall filled with the other agents. Quickly you already finished the lap and had made your way back to Maria, but unfortunately you didn’t exactly know how to stop, so as Shadow had slowed down you still held a generally fast speed. Too fast actually, causing you to trip and fall face first; thankfully the fast hedgehog was able to grab you and hold you up before you fell and ate concrete.

Maria ran over to check and make sure you were okay, feeling guilt if she somehow made you upset from almost falling. As you stood up, you turned back to look at the two, your extremely wide smile shocking them both, it was almost contagious as Maria started to smile and laugh and Shadow breathed a sigh of relief but you could see the small twitch in his lips making them quirk up.

Suddenly you heard your name coming from beside you, turning you saw your mom as well as her boss Professor Gerald Robotnik looking at the three of you, “I thought I told you to stay put!” Her expression wasn’t one of anger, more a mix of stress and lack of sleep.

“Mom! I’m sorry I just met Maria and Shadow and they’re really fun and I thought it was okay, we didn’t cause any trouble-“ You started to ramble feeling immense guilt for betraying your own mother, but you were suddenly cut off.

“Now now, I think it’s quite alright, you see Maria is my granddaughter, and I trust her and your child doesn’t seem bad” The professor interrupted and explained to your mother, “I actually think it’s good for the kids to hangout and get along” he advocated for you.

All three of you nodded your head, even Shadow was agreeing! Your mom reluctantly nodded her head, agreeing that he was right.

And so you came daily, until your mom had to start working 24/7 and so Gerald let you stay in Maria’s room, even getting you guys a bunk bed. It was nice, the three of you became like the three musketeers, you’d never see each other alone anymore.

Sometimes Maria would play music and you three would all dance and jump around together. At some point you even got your own pair of skates so that you three could race, although Shadow always won.

Life was fun, everyday was like an endless sleepover, sometimes the three of you would sneak out and watch the stars, even falling asleep under the moonlight. It wasn’t bad, not at all.

These were the best days of your life, just you and your two best friends.

[loverafey]

you only feel it when it's lost  !   ex!rafe x reader.

          ⤿ synopsis : another year, another christmas, another fight. escaping your family, you decide to spend the christmas at your ex's house who's just as lonely as you.

          ꕀ warnings - angst, bittersweet, reader has a dysfunctional family, suggestive content in like one paragraph, they both are idiots. (if you get the reference of the title i'll kiss you) wc - 2k.

these days were supposed to be joyous, full of family reunions and shared laughs. that’s what people would normally assume to be the ideal day of christmas eve followed by the last days of the year, and you had assumed too.

it was easy for fights to break out in your household, one disagreement leading to another. whether it be between your parents or between you and your parents, it was as if they never took you seriously enough. a disappointment laying right in front of them, a mistake they mourned. the dinner table didn’t consist of your parents laughing happily while you’d decorate the christmas tree, talking about your friends, helping your siblings.

you couldn’t even remember how long it had been since you actually celebrated something with your family. or how long it had been since your mother woke you up with a kiss on your forehead and your father with a hug.

today was like any other, shouts and heavy silences lingering in the house altogether. you felt suffocated, too tired. your phone had been blank today, each of your friends busy celebrating with their own, resulting in no notifications. not that you wanted any, you’d rather be left alone. but why was being alone felt so ironically lonely?

perhaps, deep within you, you too wanted someone to hold you on this day. to soothe the ache in your heart that's been there for far too long.

there was only one person you could think of that would somehow be at home on this day. maybe not, but it didn’t hurt to try, even if it was a horribly stupid decision.

you had dated rafe for over four months, a rather impulsive relationship that had not only destroyed you but also the friendship that had been between you both way before the relationship. no wonder they said not to date your damn best friend. you wondered if it had destroyed him too. you couldn’t really blame him, not when you had a part to play in the relationship’s downfall too. neither of you both were saints, just too lonesome souls trying to find warmth within each other. which is precisely why your visits had never ceased after the break up, even if your friendship was long a pile of rubble. he was an angry person, so were you, in your own way. the very root cause of the pointless arguments that would rise every day.

sometimes he’d come over at your place, pissed off about work, wanting some relief, ending with you pressed against the mattress. sometimes you’d go over to him to feel something, anything, ending with his face always buried in between your legs, coaxing out cries you were desperate to let out. just like right now, your feet leading you to your car, the route to tannyhill ingrained into your brain.

it wasn’t long until you arrived at the mansion that was now owned by rafe, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you clutched the sweater around you tight, the night air as chill as ever. ringing the door bell, you could hear the muffled sounds of footsteps inside nearing closer until the door opened, revealing him — and fuck. he looked so cozy in that dark knitted sweater of his, clearly having just cut his hair recently since the last time you remembered, his buzz had grown a bit. you didn’t mind it though, nearly everything suited him annoyingly enough.

“hey, you okay…?” he breathed out, leaning against the door, brows knitting together as he took in the sight of your exhausted face and the very subtle sight of your fingers trembling, hidden by the way you were clutching your own sweater so tight.

“hi, yes…” you lied through your teeth, reaching within your purse to take out a small box that you’d made a few days ago, having spent the whole day contemplating whether to give it to him or not. “merry christmas.”

his eyes softened as he took the gift from your hand, untying the lace and opening it up, a bracelet made from strings resting inside, the blue matching the colour of his eyes. “is this some sort of appeasement?” he couldn’t help but grin, satisfied at the way you scoffed yet were unable to suppress a smile. shit, that smile — he’d do anything to make you smile even a little. just like the old days.

“nope.” you mumbled quietly, chewing on your bottom lip in a rather nervous manner as he stepped inside to let you in, the warmth of his house comforting. “i didn’t want to spend these days at home. can i stay here, at least for the night?”

bad idea, but who was rafe to refuse? he had no one to spend these days with anyways. sarah was with the pogues. wheezie was gone for the week with their grandparents while rafe had refused the offer with an excuse to finish all his work. the truth was, he didn’t have the energy within him to pretend that everything was jolly.

“of course, baby.” it was so easy for that nickname to slip every now and then, as if his tongue was made just to speak that.

he led you into his living room, no decorations in sight, just the same old. it was almost comforting. you sat down on the couch, rafe a bit far from you, the silence heavy. it wasn’t the usual comforting silence you’d sought out with him, no. right now, it felt as if you both wanted to speak of something, but couldn’t. your fingers were curled up into wrists, resting on your knees as you stared down at the floor, mindlessly analysing the texture. your eyes slowly drifted over to his shoes, and sneakily upwards to his hands, and then face, eyes thankfully not on you.

he’d been sitting this far from you on the night of your break up too. on this very couch.

the thought made you want to laugh bitterly, but all you could feel was the heavy lump forming in your throat like hands choking you. it hurt.

“any plans for the new year…?” rafe cleared his throat, hesitantly looking over you, only to find you looking back at him. his jaw clenched, hating feeling so vulnerable, so weak in front of your eyes. the same eyes that’d glimmer at the sight of him. he could have sworn they still glimmered. his angel, coming to his house every now and then with a scythe to reap his soul, which he’d offer so gratefully. his soul and heart had been yours from the start anyways, it didn’t matter, did it?

“no…” you swallowed, shaking your head. you?”

“nah.”

“wheezie’s away?”

“yeah, with grandparents.”

“what about topper?”

“just texted him, and kelce. didn’t wanna meet any of them.”

“oh…”

it was awkward, again, though you could hear the slight shuffle ringing in the air as he scooted near you, hands awkwardly tapping at his knees, as if restless. he couldn’t help but look down at the bracelet you’d made him, still in the box. his fingers reached out, unsure, grabbing the strings and wearing them around his wrist.

“it’s nice.” he said, earning a hum from you.

“we could watch a movie, y’know. a christmas movie.” his tone held some amusement, already grabbing the remote to turn the television on to scroll through all the influx of sappy christmas movies, most of them similar to one another.

“didn’t know you enjoyed those movies, rafe.” you feigned ignorance. both of you would spend the nights watching cheesy stuff together after all, it wasn’t easy to forget about that. you don’t think you ever will.

clicking onto some random movie, rafe tossed the remote aside and leaned back into the couch, watching from the corner of his eye at you doing the same. a soft melody played in the movie as the opening credits were displayed on the screen, though he couldn’t bring himself to watch the movie. he’d noticed how sad you looked today, hair messier than usual, lips chapped. he didn’t even need to ask what happened, he was well aware of how your family could be like.

rafe had tried to hold himself ever since you stepped in here tonight, but he couldn’t anymore. you needed this, didn’t you? the same warmth you’d always craved. one arm slowly wrapped around your back, pulling you closer. when he felt your body relaxing and leaning into his, he took this as a cue to wrap his other arm around your front, letting you fully curl up into him, knees pulling up to hug against your chest.

“what’s goin' on in that pretty head, baby?” he whispered, voice hoarser than before as the hand resting on your back reached up to gently caress the back of your head tenderly, with the same love he always held for you. shaking your head, not wanting to talk, you simply leaned over to rest your head against his shoulder, trying to hide the way your breathing got heavier with emotion, as if you’d break down any second.

“shut up…” you weakly spoke, closing your eyes and simply letting yourself feel the way his fingers raked through your way. you always liked the way he touched you, it made you feel so alive, real. “just hold me, rafey…” you, too, hated being vulnerable in front of him. though the world was against you both at the moment.

“do you miss me…?” you asked on impulse, peeking up from his head to look at him, eyes filled with unshed tears. his heart clenched at the sight of you, and he knew that he should deny so you both could move on and just forget.

“yes, i do. every day.” he sighed, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“me too.”

he sighed tiredly in acknowledgement, his heart feeling so empty yet so full, void yet on the verge of bursting at the same time. “i know, baby. i know.” he smiled softly, holding you tighter. you weren’t watching the movie anymore, content on nuzzling your head against his neck so you could feel his pulse, inhaling his familiar scent.

“want me to go over and make some coffee for us?”

“not yet.” you grumbled, not wanting to let him go so soon. what if he were to never come back and this all was nothing but some sick dream?

“fine.” he chuckled softly, shifting on the couch so now you were fully resting against him, legs hooked around his waist, clung onto him. he rested his chin on top of your head, gently rocking you back and forth, soothing you. “would you like to spend the new year’s eve here too?” he asked after a while, softer. he’d usually rent a yacht and host a raging party with all the kooks, but he didn’t feel like doing that this year. “i don’t wanna stay here… wanna go away, for like a week or two.”

“yes, alright…” you had already known the answer before you’d even spoken it, hands bunching up into his sweater tightly. there was no guaranteeing how long it’ll be after that until you both would see each other again, if ever, depending on what will happen until the new years eve.

you pulled your head back, eyes clearly puffy and a bit red as she sniffled, pressing a soft kiss right on the tip of his nose, causing him to huff as he tilted his head to capture your lips with his — a short lasting yet comforting kiss. exactly what you needed.

“merry christmas.” his hold tightened around your waist.

“merry christmas, rafe.” your hands loosened on his sweater, just a bit.

[twowordsnumber]

this is a bit unrelated to the original point, but I went down a history-of-women-in-firefighting kick a while back and wanted to share a few stories (usa centric im afraid):

The first is Molly Williams, who was both the first female firefighter and the first Black firefighter in the US. She was enslaved by a wealthy man named William Aymar living in New York City. Aymar became an early member of NYC's volunteer fire department to protect his property (much of which was stored in warehouses) and he forced Williams to attend on him while he was on duty, including cleaning the firehouse, pumping water through their hoses by hand (an extremely strenuous job), and entertaining him when there were no fires. In 1818, there was a simultaneous blizzard and fire, and a cholera outbreak had left the volunteers shortstaffed, so Williams was forced to volunteer herself. Due to her heroism on that day, she was made an honorary member of the department, and took much pride in the fact. Later in life, her husband (who owned a tobacco shop) purchased the couple's freedom.

The second is Brenda Berkman (born 1951 and still alive). In 1977, New York City began allowing women to take the qualifying exam to become firefighters, but though Berkman and 80-something other women passed the written portion, the physical portion was, basically, impossible, for men or women. Berkman had to file a class action lawsuit to get the test changed to be reflective of the job's actual physical demands. When it was, she and ~40 other women passed. Even then, she was fired less than a year later due to supposed lack of physical skill, despite performing well, and her male coworkers (who had variously ignored or sexually harassed their female colleagues) applauded when she left the building. She and another female firefighter, Zaida Gonzalez, sued to be reinstated, and won in 1983. Berkman would later be at Ground Zero in the aftermath of 9-11; she also founded and organization for female firefighters, and was the first known gay person to become a White House Fellow.

I don't have much of a point with this, outside of "men have no problem forcing women, especially BIPOC women, to work dangerous jobs, but refuse to recognize women as equals when they choose that work"

There was a time when women did these jobs.

Some of them really liked the work and were keen to continue doing it. But society basically told them to collectively "get back in the kitchen" when the men returned home from war.

The tradition of conditioning women, from birth, to have a distaste for these jobs continued. Young girls are discouraged from even taking an interest in the toys representing these occupations. God forbid they put Barbie in the firetruck.

The truth is, most men do not want women doing these jobs. They complain about how dangerous this work is and use that as a metaphorical bludgeon in debates about equality. But when women actually try to be firefighters and combat infantry, they are told they *can't* do these jobs. They are inferior. Those who are hired have to work twice as hard to get half the respect. They are inundated with sexism and misogyny. And many end up quitting, not because they aren't qualified or they don't like the work, but because their male coworkers make the jobs intolerable.

And instead of fighting to make these occupations safer and valued properly, these men just complain that feminists don't know how hard it is and how they don't understand what it's like to risk their lives for no money or benefits. And then rich assholes like Elon stoke these flames because he doesn't want these men to realize this is a class struggle rather than a culture war. And that feminists and "woke activists" would actually be wonderful allies in helping them get better conditions.

Lastly, there are feminists talking about this. There are plenty of non-men interested in these jobs. But I doubt Elon keeps up with very much feminist discourse other than what he invents in his imagination.

Beyond that, feminists can't seem to prioritize stuff like this in the mainstream because they are too busy trying to regain control of their uteruses.

Did I miss anything?

Oh yeah, fuck Elon and fuck "End Wokeness".

[alchemistc]

Let's goooo! 15. trembling hands

I already did this prompt but I've been steeping in a pile of blankets and a heating pad and miserable cramps for hours just thinking about this so:

"I just keep thinking about the last time you kissed me," Buck says, and he hates the waver in it, hates the way he has to set the neatly packed bankers box down on his island because his hands are shaking as bad as his voice.

Tommy gives him the kind of look he'd expect to see if he rounded a dark curve late at night and his headlights caught a deer crossing the road.

Total devastation lies ahead. Neither one of them gets out of this without a scratch.

He'd had a call, years back now. Some family driving home after an evening of movies and arcades and dinner, a nice newer SUV, a nervous creature who would have had plenty of time to cross into the woods but got stuck in the beam of light hurtling towards it. Until it tried to jump the vehicle right before impact.

The dad had died quick, Buck remembers. They'd only found that out later, though, because the deer hadn't died. Not then. Not right away. Not until after they'd arrived, because they'd watch the thing, stuck in the windscreen, panicked and dying and kicking.

Animal control didn't make it on scene until after the moms chest had been caved in.

Tommy's grip on the box in his own hands looks painful.

"It was just - it was the kind of kiss I figured we'd share a few thousand more times, you know?"

Nothing special, a barely there peck, an appetizer because they had places to be and they'd lost more than one reservation getting caught up before so they'd made it a habit of the greeting kiss being... quick.

"I just wish I'd known it was gonna be the last time."

It hurts to say. It hurts to think, but this one's been spinning on a loop every time he's got idle hands and an idle mind and it feels like Tommy should at least know that he -

"I have to go," Tommy says. He'd set this up with that excuse - I have some of your things, can I drop them off before work - like he could rip the bandaid and be done and Buck had spent twenty minutes folding and refolding the same pair of Tommy's sweatpants before he found the nerve to respond with a thumbs up.

"Yeah," Buck says, and takes a moment to drink in the sight of him a final time. Tommy's eyes dart to the hand still hanging at his side, fingers tapping out a rhythm against his palm, unlike the one holding onto his kitchen island like a lifeline.

This is it.

There's - nothing left to tie them together. No excuses to see each other again outside of random happenstance. He'd debated stuffing one of Tommy's zip ups into the bottom of his laundry basket for about ten minutes after Tommy let him know he was headed over, but that's in the box with everything else.

He has to look away when he realizes his vision's gone a little blurry.

"I'll... see you," Buck manages, and convinces himself he doesn't hear the blown out breath from where Tommy's standing.

He listens to the footsteps moving away. Hears the latch click and sucks in a breath so harsh Tommy has to hear it.

He remembers trying to shield those kids in the back seat from the sight of both their parents and wishes he at least had some bruises to show for the way his own chest feels like it's caving in.

The door clicks shut, and Buck turns towards it a second before he feels his chin being angled.

It's nothing like their first kiss, or the greeting kiss. This is the kiss he'd get when he couldn't shut the hell up about something and Tommy had to do something about it. The kiss they'd share when it became clear a movie wasn't holding his attention and Tommy pressed him into the couch cushions with a grin. The kiss he'd give when he was so overwhelmed by how he felt and didn't have the words to explain it so he'd poured every ounce of - of love into his lips and his tongue and his teeth because even if he didn't know how to say it he wanted Tommy to know.

It slows and settles into something soft and breathy and Buck lets the hand he'd curled over Tommy's jaw drop to his chest when they break it. Their breathing is shaky, and the hand clenched in the back of Buck's shirt shakes before he breaks the hold. Buck keeps his eyes closed. His throat is tight.

"That's - if I'd known it was the last one, that's the one I'd have wanted it to be," Tommy says, and then he's pulling away. Leaving.

The door clicks open and shut while Buck's eyes are still closed, and he stands there in silence for a good ten minutes until he's sure he can breath again. When he licks his lips he doesn't recognize the taste of the lip balm Tommy'd left behind there.

The box of Tommy's stuff is sitting on the end table.

It takes Buck four goddamn tries to type out a coherent text, with the way it's shaking in his hand.

You forgot to take your stuff, he sends.

Tommy's the kind of old school where he keeps his phone in the center console while he's driving, so he doesn't expect anything back immediately.

He refuses to let himself read into it at all. An honest mistake after leaving them both more hurt than the first time around.

He'll ask Chim to deliver it so they don't have to see each other again.

Forty-two minutes later, he happens to glance at his phone just in time to see the bubbles.

They disappear. Reappear. Disappear.

How forgetful of me.

And that's - that's all he gets for another five minutes. He nearly tosses his phone in the air when the bubbles come back, like somehow someone will have witnessed him staring at it hard enough to burn a hole through it.

Maybe you could bring it by sometime.

MVA, two adult males, significant internal injuries.

The bubbles are still there.

Think I may have forgotten a few of your things, anyway.

Buck doesn't believe that for a fucking second. He'd had a drawer, two hangers, a spot under the sink in the bathroom. Tommy's place had always reminded Buck how well suited they were, with how meticulously everything had a place.

Doesn't seem like you, Buck shoots back, and tries not to examine how close to the line of flirty he's being.

That was a terrible last kiss, Tommy sends back, almost immediately.

Buck's hands don't shake when he sends the next message. It's a blatant lie. It probably broke top ten. We could fix that.

[prettiedup]

Merry Christmas 🎁

・・・・・​​⟢ pet names: [baby, daddy], blk!reader, chubby!reader

“Pussy’s so good.” Naoya couldn’t stop the vulgar comment from slipping through his mouth. His low lidded eyes dart down towards your flushed face. There is a glossy look in your unfocused eyes, you look both absolutely and beautifully blissed out.

You two weren’t supposed to be in your current predicament. You both had swore that you two were done, that the relationship was completely done with. He was someone you had no business dealing with, and you too were someone he had no business dealing with. You both had grew up completely different. From your neighborhoods to your friend groups, nothing was parallel.

The dynamic between the two of you is so obstinate. It’s something confusing and if you allow yourself to deeply study how things have unfolded you’ll find yourself dizzied. The two of you meeting was like stepping into a storm—unpredictable and completely out of each other’s control. You’re everything Naoya found insignificant: kind but strong, you did what you felt was right snd not what you felt would get you validated, and you did not fear his sharp tongue nor his scornful gaze.

You’re a stripper. Naoya prefers to deal with women that share a similar bachelors with him, women that grew up with wealth. A tall woman with slim legs and a slender build. He loved those features on a woman. His blue eyes take in your curvaceous, your thick thighs tremble as he drills his dick deeper into your soaked pussy. There are stretch marks littered in various spots of your body, and he fucking loved it. He loved tracing the lines after a passionate night of love making. Hearing your soft snores ring throughout the room after be made sure to make you come over and over. Your pudgy stomach jiggles every time he slaps his pelvis against the fat of your ass cheeks. You were nothing like the woman his father expects him to deal with, maybe that’s why he’s so adamant on having you stick around.

“‘S tooooo much.” You whine pitifully. Your eyes are glued to where the two of you are connected. Your pussy’s creaming so deliciously around the base of his dick. He fucks you in a fluid motion. Every move is perfectly calculated, he knows exactly when to speed up and when to slow down.

“Uh-uh, don’t start that whining shit.” He warns you. The strict tone his voice carries towards you has butterflies erupting in your stomach. “You can take this dick. I know you can, baby.”

And you do try to. You really do. You try to take every inch he gives you without complaint. But when he makes you cum and instead of slowing down and allowing you to ride out your moment of euphoria, he speeds up and goes even harder. You knew you couldn’t take anymore. The headboard slaps loudly against the wall deafening your mewls from overstimulation. Loud huffs escape from his mouth as he zones out and continues to pound into your pussy like it is his own personal fleshlight.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous. Fuck—you still want that bracelet?” He was so riddled with lust that he couldn’t think straight. Whatever you wanted is yours. He couldn’t believe that he tried to stay away from something so perfect. He’ll never punish himself again.

“Mhm, daddy.” You moan in response. Your square nails leave crescent shaped marks into his olive tan skin.

“You’re so fucking addictive.” Naoya groans. His thin silver chain presses against the tip of your nose as he shifts his head higher. A warm kiss warms up your skin, something so small but intimate. This was a major from someone like Naoya, a person who preferred quick meaningless sex.

A soft gasp escapes past your lips that’s quickly silenced by his lips. His hips had slowed down and he was now giving you slow, deep strokes. Everything had become so intimate that you couldn’t stop the sharp sob from erupting from your throat.

[saintobio]

blue christmas

a sincerely yours christmas special. non-canon. angst. 900 wc. part of the sy side-stories.

It was quiet that night. 

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, and the scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air while the warm glow of Christmas lights twinkled on the tree. Outside, snow drifted lazily to the ground, covering the surroundings of your home in a soft, pile of white. It felt peaceful—almost too peaceful—and you sat back on the couch, lounging after a nice Christmas dinner with your teenage son, Sachiro, who cradled a mug of cocoa in his hands beside you.

You smiled faintly, admiring how much he had grown, and how this quiet night seemed so far removed from the all the drama that had once filled your life. But the comfort of the moment didn’t last long before he spoke. His voice, deep like his father’s, broke the silence of your supposed peaceful night. 

“Mom,” he began, “Why didn’t you ever choose to remarry Dad?”

The question hit you harder than expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. Really, what were the right words? You had never been good at talking about these things, and you didn’t expect that your son would put you on the hot seat like this. The past, especially those connected to Satoru—sometimes it felt easier to leave them untouched, forgotten. As it should be. 

You glanced at your son, unsure of how to explain the complicated web of emotions that tangled inside you. “I thought... it was for the best,” you said quietly, voice soft as you searched for something that sounded right. His question was too sudden to be given a decent answer. “You know your Dad and I just couldn’t make it work. And for you, for us, it was better this way.”

Sachiro nodded slowly as if he already knew the answer, yet his fingers tightened around the mug. You could see the way he was processing your words, as if he was hoping for better reasoning. He had never even known the sibling he had lost until recently, the gap that finally forced his father out of your lives. Sachiro only saw the quiet love that both his parents shared, but it wasn’t enough, not for either of you.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if my sibling were here?” he asked, clearly inciting. “If you kept her, mom. Would she be celebrating with us tonight?”

You felt the ache in your chest as the question landed. You knew Sachiro’s question came from a place of grudge, aiming really well at a spot that hurt the most. And it did good at bringing you a pang of grief from a memory you had tried to bury long ago. You weren’t numb. Of course the loss still stung, even all these years later.

“I think about it all the time,” you murmured, unable to hide the shame in your voice. “What she would’ve been like. How she would’ve looked like. But... I don’t want to remember, Sachiro. I’ve made peace with it.”

But he wasn’t done. “Then, why didn’t you try again?” His voice was so gentle, yet so curious. “Why didn’t you remarry anyone else? I mean... Dad’s married to someone else now. And they’re having another baby. Shouldn’t that be a sign?”

The words felt like a stab to your chest, your heart shattering with an emotion you couldn’t name. Satoru’s life had moved on without you, far far too long ago, yet every reminder of it still cut deep. 

“I’m happy for him,” you said softly, the words stuck in your throat. “But that doesn’t mean I want the same outcome for myself. It’s... complicated.”

Marrying someone else again was not in your books. 

You could feel the intensity of Sachiro’s gaze on you, as if waiting for more. But you didn’t have more to give. You didn’t know how to explain the parts of you that had been shattered, the pieces that had never fully healed. Even if your own son hated you for it. 

“I just want you to be happy, Mom,” Sachiro said, turning away from you, his gaze landing on the Christmas tree. “I want you to have what you deserve. When I have my own family someday, I don’t want you to be spending your Christmas all alone.”

You wanted to tell him everything. How much you loved him, how much you would do for him. How hard it was to move on, how hard it was to see his father moving on with someone else. But the words needn’t be said. At least, not for tonight. 

And then, just as quickly as the moment had come, it faded into a kaleidoscope of memories. The world around you shifted, and the warmth of the fire and the smell of Christmas began to dissolve. Suddenly, you were back in your bed, heart pounding recklessly in the darkness.

You woke up eyes wide in surprise, until the reality of your room finally made sense to you. You blinked, trying to steady yourself. It was a dream. It was all a dream. 

Sighing, you let your head fall into your hands. And just for a moment, you let yourself mourn the future you would never have. The family you would never see, the happiness you could never quite reach.

But as the soft glow of the Christmas lights flickered in the silent night, you slowly allowed yourself to breathe. Tomorrow would come. But tonight, you would let the dream linger just a little longer.

[wonderjanga]

Little Billy the Assistant

Zatanna was looking for the Champion. She’d wanted to ask for his help procuring an ingredient for a potion. All she expected was a short trip and maybe adventure. What she didn’t expect was running into a magically gifted orphan homeless looking kid.

Zatanna: *takes a detour a cramped street with a bunch of stalls selling stuff*

Billy: *ahead of her, heads to a gate leading to an alley, looks around for a bit before literally melting the lock off*

Zatanna: *sees this and stares*

Billy: *casts one more glance back before nearly feeling his soul leave his body at the sight of her looking at him*

He looked just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Zatanna thought he was scared because he got caught by someone using magic in public. Billy was actually scared because she saw his civilian form do magic. Because what if she connected it back to Cap or something?!

Anyways, they made an uncomfortable amount of eye contact from across the street before Billy bolted into the alley. She tried to follow, but the crowd of the cramped street kept getting in her way, and by the time she got to the alley he was gone. Having lost him, she decided to ask Cap about the little boy about a week later when they were both at the Watchtower after he’d helped her find the ingredient she’d wanted. As for why it took a week for her to find him and ask for help? Billy had been avoiding her. Anyways…

Zatanna: “Cap, have you seen this little kid running around?”

Marvel: *immediately knew she was probably talking about him* “You’re going to have to be more specific than that Zatanna.”

Zatanna: “Okay… this little blue eyed black haired short little thing, maybe nine or 10-”

Marvel: *a little offended because he’s 12*

Zatanna: “-I saw him do magic the other day so he’s magical too. You know anything about him?”

Marvel: “Maybe? Why do you care about him?”

Zatanna: “Because recently I’ve had this idea of maybe having a little stage assistant.”

Marvel: “I thought you said you never wanted to share the spotlight or something?”

Zatanna: “That is true, but he was adorable! And I’m pretty sure he was also homeless.”

Marvel: *doesn’t know how to feel about being called adorable* “So…?”

Zatanna: “So he’d become my assistant and learn how to do his magic better since I doubt he has a teacher if I’m right about him being homeless. There’s also the added bonus of earning money which will benefit whether or not he actually is homeless.”

Marvel: *was prepared to say yes as soon as he heard money* “I’ll talk to him about it.”

Zatanna: “Oh? So you do know him.”

Marvel: “Maybe.”

Zatanna: “Maybe?”

Marvel: “Maybe. By the way, I’m pretty sure that kid you’re talking about has a job as a radio show host so he might not accept your offer if it conflicts with his schedule.”

Zatanna: “Radio show host? That’s a little retro, no? Buuuuuut… if he’s a show host, that at least means he has some pizzazz, so he could probably be good on stage too! As for the schedule thing, I mostly do night shows so he should be good.”

Billy mulled over this decision for many(two) days before deciding he’d accept her offer. As Cap, he told her to meet Billy at a popular street.

Billy: *waiting near a fountain and contemplating every decision he made up until his*

Zatanna: “Ah, it’s you! I assume Cap told you about my offer?”

Billy: “Yes? Could we uh… talk more about what the job would be like?”

Zatanna: “Of course! But first, let’s get some food in you.”

Billy: “What? Why?”

Zatanna: “Bud, you’re practically skin and bones.”

Billy: “Oh.” *sounds upset*

Zatanna: “Hey, hey, hey! No need to get upset! Try to think of the positives! I’m getting you food!”

They went to a little diner and ate while discussing all the things. What his job as an assistant would be, his pay, and so on.

Zatanna: “You sure know how to talk business, little guy.”

Billy: “Thank you…?” *sounds confused*

Zatanna: “I meant that in a good way.”

Billy: “Oh. Thanks then.” *smiles*

Zatanna: *just barely resists the urge to pinch his cheeks*

Zatanna stand by the fact that this kid was, in fact, incredibly adorable. Such a cutie honestly. And he’s such a sweetheart, too. After this meeting, they met up a couple more times, so Billy could rehearse being her assistant before he actually went on stage. Then the day came that he finally had to do his job…

Billy and Zatanna: *standing behind a curtain on stage*

Billy: “Uhm… Ms. Zatanna?”

Zatanna: “Yes?”

Billy: “What happens if I’m not good at being an assistant?”

Zatanna: *pauses to think* “Well, you’d stop, but I’d still continue trying to help you with your magic.”

Billy: “You mean that?” *just happy she wouldn’t immediately kick him to the curb*

Zatanna: “Of course.” *again has to resist pinching his cheeks*

The curtains soon opened after that conversation. The show must go on!

I’ll leave it up to you guys on whether he did good or not.

[v6quewrlds]

ALL MINE, TEE HIGGINS.

pairing⠀⁎⠀tee higgins x ex!reader. word count⠀⁎⠀7.4k.

summary⠀⁎⠀two years ago, you thought you had left tee higgins in the past. both ja'marr and tee's mother have been waiting to bring you back into the loop, at any means necessary.

author's note⠀⁎⠀i think i've written and rewritten this fic at least 4 times in the last two months. pls suspend your disbelief and imagine car sex isn't a semi-miserable experience. lost the original request for this but sorry it took me forever, here it is <3 warnings⠀⁎⠀18+ mdni, smut, jealous!tee, mama tee & ja'marr meddling, forced proximity trope, car sex, fingering, male masturbation, oral sex (m. receiving), facial lol, feelings, etc.

You took your seat, balancing your nachos in one hand and your soda in another. You couldn't believe you had agreed to come to the game tonight. The stadium lights reflected off the field, creating a kaleidoscope of color against the night sky. The roar of the crowd washed over you like a wave of nostalgia, a stark contrast to the quiet solace of your usual Sunday nights at home. You had hoped the distance between you and the game would be enough to keep you from seeing Tee, but the universe had a twisted sense of humor.

When Ja'Marr had bribed you with free tickets and the promise of seeing your hard work on his shoulder in action from the VIP suite, you had felt a flutter of excitement. It was the kind of experience you had always dreamed of, a chance to see the game you loved from a perspective most fans could only envy. But the moment you walked in and saw Tee's mother, your heart had sunk. You knew that look in her eye, the one that said she'd been waiting for this moment for nearly two years.

You knew Tee and Ja'Marr were extremely close, but you hadn't anticipated their families sharing a suite for the season - an oversight on your part that had led you straight into the lion's den. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the awkwardness to come. Tee's mother, gave you a knowing smile - one that mirrored Tee's - and a wink that made your heart race.

"Is that who I think it is?" You heard Tee's mother wonder out loud as you approached the suite. Your heart skipped a beat. You had hoped you could fly under the radar, but you should have known better. Tee's mother was sharp, and she hadn't missed a beat when it came to her son's love life.

You had met Tee's mother twice before, both times ending in an unspoken promise that you would help her son get his life in check. Now, as the woman's gaze fell on you, you felt a strange mix of dread and comfort. She was the kind of person who didn't miss a beat, and she wasn't about to let you slip away without making her intentions known. She wanted you back with Tee, and she wasn't afraid to play Cupid.

"I'm so happy you made it," Tee's mother said, her voice warm and welcoming despite the tension in the air. "It's so good to see you, baby." The Southern warmth enveloped you. You forced a smile, your eyes glancing at the field where Tee was warming up with his team.

"It's nice to see you too," you managed to say, your voice tight. You knew that the woman's welcoming tone was a loaded one, filled with expectations and hopes for a reunion you weren't quite ready to entertain.

Tee's mother leaned in, whispering in your ear. "You look gorgeous, darling. Tee's so hard-headed, but I know he'll be happy to see you." You felt a warmth creep up your neck as you took a sip of your soda, hoping the cool liquid would calm the storm brewing inside you. You knew that you had to be as normal as you could muster, especially considering the circumstances of your breakup with Tee. But as you watched Tee on the field, your thoughts drifted to those passionate nights the two of you had shared, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was still something there.

The game kicked off, and you found yourself lost in the excitement of the plays, the cheers of the crowd, and the occasional glance at Tee, his muscles rippling as he sprinted across the field. Every time he caught a pass, celebrated with his teammates, or flashed that million-dollar smile, you felt a twinge of something you had been trying so hard to bury. You focused on Ja'Marr's performance, nodding with professional pride at each catch and cringing at each hit he took.

The game ended just as explosively as it had started, with the Bengals claiming victory. The suite erupted into a roar of cheers and laughter, and you found yourself being swept up in the excitement despite your apprehension about seeing Tee. As the families began to filter out of the suite and into the hallway leading to the players' exit, you tried to hide behind Ja'Marr's parents, hoping to go under the radar just until you could congratulate him. But fate had other plans.

As the players began to pour out of the locker room to greet their families, you were quickly spotted by various team members who had become familiar faces at your clinic. They greeted you with smiles and updates on their recoveries, making small talk that you returned with genuine enthusiasm.

Tee stepped out of the locker room, standing head and shoulders above the vast majority of the crowd. His eyes scanned the hallway, looking for his mother and Ja'Marr's family. The sight of your signature sleek jet-black hair tucked between the sea of heads stopped him in his tracks. The jean shorts and jersey you had worn teasingly hid your curves in a way that had his thoughts drifting to the nights the two of you had spent together. He felt the heat of his shock and desire mingling, unsure which would win out.

A hand clapped down on his shoulder as he stood frozen in his spot. Ja'Marr's laugh only seemed to push his irritation further as he watched you interact with his teammates, all smiles and gentle touches that made his blood boil. "You can thank me later," he said, a smug smirk playing across his lips as he stepped in front of Tee to greet his family. Tee's mother pulled Ja'Marr in for a quick hug, whispering, "It's about time you got her down here, good job," before releasing him and turning her attention to her brooding, silent son.

The tension in the air was palpable as you and Tee locked eyes over his mother's shoulder. He couldn't read the emotions playing out on your face, but he knew you were just as annoyed as he was. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before he made a scene. He didn't know what to say to you, didn't know how to act with you so close to him. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the victory night for everyone with your personal drama.

Ja'Marr reached you before Tee could say a word, pulling you into a warm hug and breaking your eye contact with Tee. "Thanks for everything," he said, sincerity in his voice. "Couldn't have done it without you." The other stray players nodded in agreement, sharing their appreciation for your work. Tee felt his jaw clench, the jealousy bubbling to the surface as he watched you laugh and joke with the men he shared a locker room with.

But as the crowd thinned and the congratulations grew quieter, you turned to leave, your eyes avoiding Tee's gaze. You didn't want to deal with this, not now, not here. Tee's mother, ever the opportunist, called out to you. "How are you getting home, sweetheart?" She feigned innocence.

Your eyes snapped to hers, a silent plea to convince her to ease the pressure. "I'm all good. I didn't want to deal with the parking headache so I ubered over. I'll just order one to get home," you replied, hoping to keep the conversation moving.

Tee's mother, however, had other plans.

"Why don't you let Tee take you home," Tee's mother said, her voice a blend of sweetness and command that left you with little room to argue. To make matters worse, Tee nodded, seeing an opening and taking it without question.

"Yeah, you still live at the same place?" Tee asked, his voice low and gruff. You nodded, unable to hide the irritation in your eyes. You didn't want to be here, didn't want to deal with this, but you had no escape. Tee's mother had set the stage, and now you had to play the part.

"Good," he said decisively, leaving you no room to argue. "I'll take you."

The walk to Tee's car was a silent battle of wills, with each step echoing the unspoken tension that had grown between the two of you. You felt a storm of emotions brewing, a tornado of anger and desire that you hadn't felt since the last time you were together. You were torn between pushing him away and throwing yourself into his arms, but you knew the latter was a dangerous path you couldn't afford to take.

As you approached the sleek black sports car, you could see his eyes scanning the parking lot, looking for any sign of recognition or potential interested eyes. It had always been like this with Tee, a constant dance of public and private personas. You knew the weight of being a public figure's girlfriend - or fuck buddy - all too well, and you weren't sure if you wanted to step back into that world again.

But as the two of you climbed into the car and the door shut behind them, the outside world faded away. The leather seats were perfectly pristine, and the scent of his cologne filled the space, a heady mix that was both comforting and infuriating. You sat in silence, jaws set and tense. You were the first to break it.

"Why'd you say that?" you spat out, your eyes on the floor mat as you fidgeted with the zipper of your purse. "Why would you put me in that situation in front of everyone?"

Tee's grip tightened on the steering wheel, his head shaking, already rejecting your frustration. "What situation? You looked like you was having the time of your life flirting with my teammates," he shot back, the edge in his voice betraying his own jealousy.

"Flirting? I was talking to my patients," you retorted, your voice rising slightly. "But that's always your go-to, isn't it? Accuse me of shit when you know damn well I'm just doing my job." You glanced up at him, your eyes flashing with anger.

Tee met your gaze in the mirror, his jaw tight. "And what about you wearing my boy's jersey?" He gestured towards you, the frustration in his voice palpable. "That's not sending a message?"

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Tee, it is just a jersey. And last time I checked, I can wear whatever the hell I want." The words hung in the air, charged with the electricity of your unresolved feelings.

"Yeah, but why his?" Tee countered, his voice thick with irritation. He started the engine and pulled out of the garage, the tires squealing slightly as he hit the gas. The darkness of the night outside the car mirrored the tumultuous emotions inside.

"It's not just about the jersey, Tee," you sighed, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and longing. "It's about respecting me as a person. You don't own me. I can't believe we're even having this conversation."

Tee clenched his teeth, feeling his blood pressure rise. "You're right, I don't own you," he said, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. "But you know damn well that ain't what this is about." His hand reached over and rested on your thigh, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles.

You felt a shiver run through your body despite the warmth of his touch. "Then what is it about?" you asked, your hand hesitating before pushing his hand away. You shifted in your seat, crossing your arms tightly.

Tee's hand hovered over your thigh for a moment before retreating. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's about... us. And how we always seem to end up in the same fucked up situation." He paused, glancing over at you before continuing. "It's about how every time I see you, I want to love on you so badly it hurts."

Your eyes searched his profile in the dim car light, the glow of passing streetlights casting shadows on his sharp features. "And what about when you don't see me?" you challenged, your voice laced with bitterness. "You still get to fuck on whoever you want, whenever you want. But the second I try to live my life, you act like I'm the one who's wrong."

Tee's eyes never left the road, groaning in response to your argument. "You think it's easy for me?" he bit back. "You think I don't miss you every fucking day? That I don't lay in bed at night thinking about you?" His voice grew softer, the anger momentarily subsiding. "But every time we talk, it's the same shit. You push me away, and I don't know how to fix it."

You stared at your hands in your lap, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. You had missed him too, but you weren't about to admit that. Not now. Not when you had worked so hard to move on. "You can't fix it if you don't know what's broken," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the hum of the car's engine.

Tee sighed. "Then tell me. Tell me what the fuck I did wrong, because I've been playing this shit on repeat in my head for two years, and I can't figure it out." His frustration was clear, but so was the desperation in his voice.

You turned to face him, your eyes searching his for a moment before you spoke. "You didn't do just one thing wrong, Tee. It's like you never knew how to just be with me without all the drama and the games. And when we tried to get serious, you just... you just didn't get it."

Tee's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Get what?" he asked, his voice tight.

You let out a long, exasperated sigh. "You didn't get that I needed more than just... this," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "I needed someone who could handle being with me without all the bullshit, without treating me like a fucking trophy to show off to your boys. I just wanted you to be able to chill the fuck out around me."

Tee remained silent, his eyes focused on the road as he digested your words. The silence grew heavier, each passing second feeling like an eternity. Finally, he spoke. "I know I fucked up. But you gotta know that when I'm around you, it's like... I just can't control myself. I can't think right."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach at his confession. "Well, maybe you should learn," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. But you knew he had a point. Whenever the two of you were together, it was like your emotions had a mind of their own, a tornado that wreaked havoc on everything around you.

"I'm trying," Tee said, his voice gruff. "But it's hard when I see you with other guys, talking with my mom, wearing another man's jersey..." He trailed off, his voice thick with unspoken frustration and something else - something that made your heart race.

"I'm not with anyone, Tee," you said, your voice softer now. "I've been focusing on work, on myself."

Tee glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment too long before returning to the road. "For real?" His voice was tinged with skepticism.

"Yeah, for real," you snapped, feeling the heat of his stare. "Why can't you just believe me?"

Tee didn't respond, his eyes flicking back and forth between the road and your profile. The two of you drove in silence for a few minutes, the tension in the car thick enough to cut with a knife. The city lights flashed by, a blur of color that matched the chaos in your mind. You could feel his eyes on you and the corners of his lips pulling into a smug smile. It was infuriating, but you couldn't help but be drawn in by his magnetic energy.

"I can't stand you," you huffed, your eyes never leaving his profile.

Tee chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You never mean that shit," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill through you. He pulled into your parking garage, looking for a guest spot as he casually added, "When was the last time you got fucked right?"

Your eyes widened in shock, your breath hitching in your throat. "What the hell did you just say to me?" you hissed, your hand itching to reach for the door handle.

Tee's grin grew wider, his teeth flashing in the dim light of the garage. "You heard me," he drawled, pulling into an empty spot. "It's a damn shame you can't remember."

Your hand hovered over the door handle, torn between the desire to cuss him out and the heat that was spreading through you at the thought of your past encounters. "Why are you doing this?" you demanded, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and arousal you couldn't hide.

"Doing what?" Tee feigned innocence, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he turned to look at you. "Just trying to have a conversation, that's all. Remind you of what you've been missing." He stepped out of the car, the sound of the door slamming echoing through the garage.

You sat in the car, seething, trying to compose yourself. You didn't need this shit, not from him. But as you watched him walk around to your side, you knew you couldn't ignore him. You stepped out, your legs wobbly from the mix of emotions. He leaned against the car, arms folded over his broad chest, watching you with a smug look that made you want to scream.

Your eyes squinted, "Tee," you warned, "Don't start with me."

"I'm not starting anything," he said, his voice smoother than you remembered. "You remember that weekend you missed your flight?" Your cheeks grew warm, the memory rushing back. "You were so busy screaming my name, you ain't even notice the time."

Your nostrils flared, but you couldn't argue with that. It had been one of those weekends - passionate and all-consuming. But that was the problem with Tee. He had a way of making everything feel ten times more intense than it should have been, and you had been swept away by it every single time.

"Don't flatter yourself," you said, trying to sound unaffected. "It was just good dick."

Tee's grin never wavered. "Is that all it was to you?" He stepped closer, closing the space between you, your back pressed against the car. "Just good dick?"

Your heart hammered in your chest, his proximity making your head throb. You could feel his warmth, smell his cologne, and it was doing things to you that you didn't want to admit.

"Tee, don't do this to me," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. But it was too late. The dam had broken and you could feel the passion and frustration boiling over.

"You know it wasn't just that," Tee said, his voice dropping to a whisper. His hand reached up, cupping your cheek delicately, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. "It was never just about the sex. Like the week before we broke up, you remember that, don't you?"

Your eyes narrowed, trying to fight the memories that flooded back. That week had been intense, a whirlwind of success after the Bengals won the AFC North Championship, and the private moments you had shared in the aftermath had been more than just physical. "You can't just throw that in my face," you murmured, your voice strained.

Tee stepped closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "But it's the truth, ain't it?" he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "You can't tell me you don't miss that connection."

Your eyes fluttered closed, the memories of your passionate encounters overwhelming you. "Fuck," you breathed, your voice trembling. "Sprayed me with champagne, didn't you?"

Tee's smile grew as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "And then I ate that pussy good, just how you like," he whispered, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your breath hitched, and you couldn't stop the images that flashed through your mind. That night had been explosive, a celebration of victory and passion.

Your body responded despite your resistance, and you felt yourself leaning into him, your hand reaching up to push against his chest. But instead of pushing him away, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. You whimpered softly, your resolve wavering.

Tee took this as an invitation, his hand moving to the nape of your neck and pulling you in for a deep, possessive kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, and you could taste the victory of the game on him, the sweetness of his triumph mixing with the bitterness of your past. You kissed him back with a ferocity that surprised even yourself, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions - anger, desire, and a hint of nostalgia. You didn't want to be here, didn't want to feel this way again, but you were powerless against the gravitational pull of your history. As you broke apart for a moment to catch your breath, Tee's eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of surrender.

"Fuck you," you whispered, your eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and need. But even as you said the words, your body betrayed you, arching into his touch, your breasts brushing against his chest.

Tee chuckled against your lips, his hand sliding down to your ass, and squeezing gently. "I'm trying," he murmured, his teeth grazing your bottom lip.

The garage lights were dim, casting shadows over your bodies as you kissed, a silent symphony of passion and anger playing out between the two of you. You felt his other hand move to your waist, pulling you closer. You wanted to push him away, to scream and yell and tell him to leave you alone, but you couldn't. Your body was responding to his touch in a way you hadn't allowed it to in almost two years, and you were powerless to stop it.

With a low growl, Tee whispered, "You want this?" Your eyes searched his, a war of emotions playing out in their depths. Finally, you nodded, and Tee didn't need any more encouragement. He yanked you closer, his mouth devouring yours, his hands roaming over your body, relearning every curve and angle.

"Upstairs?" Tee murmured against your neck, his voice thick with lust.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of desire that clouded your thoughts. "Can't wait that long, backseat's fine," you murmured. The words slipped out before you could think better of it, but once they did, there was no turning back. You crawled into the back seat, shooting him a searing glare as he slapped your ass before climbing in after you.

In the confines of the car, the tension between the two of you was thick. Tee didn't waste time, his hands roaming over your body as if he knew every inch of you. Your resolve crumbled as his lips found your neck, kissing and nibbling along the sensitive skin. You let out a soft moan, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you straddled his strong thighs.

"You missed this," Tee murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Admit it."

You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just good dick, remember?" But your words held no conviction, and Tee's smug smile grew wider. He knew he had you, and the thrill of it was written all over his face. He reached up, cupping your cheek gently. "But it's more than that, baby," he whispered, his voice a seductive purr. "It's always been more."

As he spoke, his hand moved to unbutton your jean shorts. Your chest heaved as you felt his fingers slip under the waistband of your panties. The touch was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body that you hadn't felt in what felt like an eternity.

"You’re so fuckin' wet, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Your breath hitched as Tee's fingers found your entrance and circled it with a skill that had you biting back a moan. The friction was exquisite, and you couldn’t help but rock against him, your body begging for more.

"Tee..." you whispered, your voice a mix of warning and need. But he ignored you, his focus solely on the pleasure he was giving you. His fingertips found your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your toes curl in your sneakers. Your eyes fluttered closed as you gave yourself over to the sensation, the anger dissipating like smoke in the wind.

"Just like old times..." Tee murmured as he slid two fingers into you, the sudden fullness making you gasp. The leather of the passenger seat headrest behind your head was cold against your skin as you leaned back, your eyes fluttering closed. The sound of your breathing filled the small space, punctuated by the occasional moan that escaped your lips. You had missed this, the feeling of being filled and desired by someone who knew your body so well and on instinct.

But you weren't about to admit it. Not now, not when you were trying so hard to keep your walls up. "Don't get too cocky," you managed to say, your voice strained. "It's just been a dry spell."

Tee chuckled darkly, his thumb continuing to circle your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. "Dry spell or not, still got the wettest pussy I've ever had," he said, his voice filled with a possessive edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

You couldn't help the moan that escaped you as he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss that left you gasping for air. His hand slid from your neck to your chest, cupping your breast through the jersey and teasing the nipple into a tight peak. You felt his cock strain against his pants, and the urge to feel him inside you was almost too much to bear.

"Take this shit off," he hissed as if suddenly remembering you were wearing Ja'Marr's jersey. The material of the jersey was pulled away from your body, revealing your plain black bra. The sound of the fabric tearing filled the car, echoing the chaotic passion between the two of you. Tee's eyes darkened with desire and a hint of possessiveness as he stared at your exposed skin.

His gaze dropped, and he leaned in to kiss the soft swell of your tits, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin before biting down gently, causing you to gasp and arch your back. His other hand remained between your legs, his fingers moving in and out of you, the rhythm increasing as his kisses grew more urgent.

You felt the beginnings of an orgasm building, your hips moving in sync with his hand. But you didn't want it to end there. You wanted more, needed more. With a growl of frustration, you pushed him back and began to undo your shorts, pulling them down over your legs as Tee chuckled, watching your impatience. You kicked them aside, straddling him again, and reached for his pants.

You leaned down to kiss him, your hand fumbling with his belt buckle. The sound of metal clicking open was music to both your ears. You felt his cock, thick and hard, pressing against the fabric of his briefs. Tee groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your hand as you freed him. The sight of him, so eager and needy, made your core throb with desire.

"Fuck, I've missed this," you murmured, your voice thick with lust.

Tee gripped your hips and pulled you down onto him, his erection pushing past your wetness in one swift motion. Your eyes rolled back as he filled you, the sensation of his thickness stretching you almost too much to bear. He began to move, his hips bucking up into you with a fervor that spoke of his own desire. The leather of the car seat was cool as it dug into your knees, but you didn’t care as you leaned into his thrusts, your breath coming out in gasps.

The car rocked slightly with your movements, the sound of your skin slapping together echoing through the quiet night. Your hands gripped the back of the seat, your nails digging into the leather as Tee’s hands roamed over your body, his mouth finding your neck again, sucking hard enough to leave bruises. You knew you would wear them with a disconcerting mix of pride and shame, but right now, you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he felt inside you.

Tee’s hands slid up to your chest, squeezing your tits roughly, fingers tugging at the clasp, allowing them to fall from their restraint before wrapping his lips around a nipple. You moaned, your hips moving faster, urging him on. His other hand held you in place, keeping you tight against him as he picked up the pace. You could feel your orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that was going to shatter you into a million pieces.

"Tee, oh my god," you gasped, your body trembling as you felt yourself getting closer. His teeth grazed your skin, his hand moving down to grip your ass tightly, his hand soothing over the skin before delivering a firm slap that echoed through the car.

"You like that?" he groaned, his voice muffled against your skin. "You like when I fuck you like this?"

You could only nod, your voice lost to the sensation of him filling you so completely. 

Tee wasn’t satisfied by that alone. He pulled away from your neck and stared into your eyes, his own filled with a dark hunger. "Say that shit," he demanded, his voice low and rough. "Say you missed this dick."

Your eyes flashed with defiance for a moment before you gave in, your voice a needy whine. "I missed this dick." The words left your mouth in a rush of air, and Tee's eyes lit up with triumph. He began to pump into you harder, his grip on your hips tightening, his movements more deliberate. The car rocked with each thrust, the leather of the seat squeaking slightly under your weight.

"Good girl," Tee murmured, his voice a low rumble in your ear. "You know you missed this." His thumb found your clit again, pressing down as his fingers continued to explore the depths of you. The sensation was too much, and you felt your orgasm build rapidly, a crescendo of pleasure that you hadn't experienced in so long.

"Tee, oh god, I'm gonna..." your voice trailed off as you bit your lip, your eyes squeezing shut. The words hung in the air, a declaration of your impending climax. Tee's strokes grew more deliberate, his hips meeting yours with a force that had the car bouncing slightly.

"Tell me what you need from me," Tee demanded, his breath hot against your neck. His strokes grew deeper, more powerful, as if he were trying to claim your very soul with every thrust.

Your breath was ragged, your voice strained as you whispered, "Just make me come, Tee. Wanna flood your dick, baby." The words were a mix of submission and challenge that made Tee’s eyes burn with lust. He knew you were close, your breath hitching and your pussy tightening around him. He reached up and pinched your nipple hard, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch your back and cry out.

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, your pussy clenching down on him as you threw your head back, your eyes squeezed shut. Tee watched your face, the way your mouth fell open in a silent scream, the way your eyes shut and your dimples deepened. He could feel your juices coating him, making every stroke slick and hot. It was like coming home, a feeling he had craved for so long.

"Yeah, baby, just like that. Take what you need from me, baby." Tee murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watched you come apart in his arms. He could feel his own orgasm building, his balls tightening as he pumped into you slowly. He waited, savoring your climax before kissing you, his own climax still quite a ways away.

Your kiss grew sloppier, more desperate, as Tee’s thrusts grew more erratic as he bucked up into you. Your body was hum of sensations, your pussy still clenching around him as you rode out the last of your orgasm. He felt his own approaching, the base of his spine tingling with the promise of release.

With a rush of movement, he lifted you off his lap and dropped you to your knees. You stared up at him, chest heaving, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and lust. Tee took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort. He leaned back against the car seat, his erection still standing proud. "Open your mouth," he said, his voice a low growl.

You didn't argue. With a flick of your tongue, you tasted the precum leaking from his tip. The familiar flavor of him washed over you, and you felt a sense of homecoming you hadn’t expected. Tee's hand wrapped around the back of your head, guiding you closer to him.

His hand gripped the base of his cock, stroking slowly as he watched you. You leaned in, taking him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip. Tee's eyes rolled back, his head falling back against the seat. He groaned, his hips jerking upward involuntarily as you took him deeper, your mouth sliding down his length. You knew just how he liked it, the way he liked to feel your tongue on the underside of his shaft, the way he liked to watch you take him in until he was all you could see.

You moaned softly, indulging in the taste of your love-hate relationship, your anger now a distant memory in the face of such raw desire. Tee's eyes never left yours, the silent communication speaking volumes about his need for you. He watched you intently, his hand still guiding your movements, his breathing growing harsher with every stroke of your tongue. Your cheeks hollowed as you took him deeper, your eyes watering slightly as you fought the urge to gag. It had been so long since you had done this, but your body remembered the rhythm, the way to make him moan and squirm.

He gently pulled you away from his length, strong hand moving to jerk himself off. "You gon' swallow what I give you, baby?" he panted, tattooed hand moving frantically over his thick shaft that glistened with a mix of your spit and arousal.

You nodded, eyes never leaving his. You hadn’t expected this turn of events, but you were too far gone to resist. Tee’s hand moved faster, his abs tensing as he approached the edge. Tee's head fell back against the headrest, and he let out a strangled groan, his hand tightening around his dick. You could feel his thighs tense, and you knew he was close.

You stared up at him, arousal and submission swirling in your eyes. "Mmhmm," you murmured, Tee's eyes snapped back to yours, his hand at the back of your head again, holding you as close as possible to his cock without allowing you the satisfaction of taking it in your mouth again.

"So fuckin' pretty, baby. Lookin' at me like that," he murmured, his hand stroking his cock. The sight of him, so lost in his own pleasure, had your pussy pulsing with a renewed hunger. You leaned in, your tongue darting out to lick the tip of his shaft. Tee groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before snapping back open, a hint of challenge in his gaze.

He stroked himself faster, the sound of his hand against his cock filling the small space. Your mouth watered as you watched him, your tongue slipping out to catch the beads of precum that formed at the tip. "You want it, baby?" he asked, his voice tight.

"Mmhmm," you murmured again, eager to please him, to show him that you still knew his body, that you still craved his pleasure.

Tee's hand tightened around his shaft, his hips jerking upward as he reached the peak of his climax. With a final, guttural groan, he spoke, "Open your mouth, baby, take it from me." You eagerly obeyed, your mouth open and waiting. He erupted with a moan, the hot spurts of his cum painting your face and tongue. You took it all, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him on your tongue, the power of his release under your control.

For a moment, you stayed like that, Tee panting and you swallowing, your eyes locked. The tension in the car was palpable, thick with the scent of sex and desire. Tee leaned back, his chest heaving, and you wiped your face with your thumb a smug smile playing on your lips. "Missed me, huh?" you quipped, trying to lighten the mood, but the words hung in the air, loaded with the weight of your tumultuous history.

Tee chuckled, his hand moving to caress your cheek gently, wiping away a stray drop of cum. "More than you know," he admitted, his voice softer than before. You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand sending a shiver through your body. You didn't miss this, you missed him, you realized with a jolt. The way he looked at you, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered.

But you couldn’t let yourself get lost in that feeling. Not again. With a shaky breath, you sat back on your heels and reached for your discarded jersey, pulling it over your head. You had to get dressed, had to get out of the car, had to get away from him before you did something stupid.

"I'm starting to remember why I threw your ass out my apartment," you said, trying to keep your voice light as you pulled yourself together. Tee threw his head back, laughter filling the car. It was a sound that still made your heart melt.

"You know you liked it," he teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitched. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to tell your Mom you were a good boy," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Tee's laughter grew louder, and you couldn't help but smile, the sound of it bringing back a flood of memories you had pushed aside.

"You still got my Mom's number?" Tee quipped, still chuckling as he tucked himself back into his pants, watching you struggle to maintain your composure as you dressed. You threw him a glare that would've made a saint sweat, but he just grinned back, unbothered. That was the Tee you missed the most. Not the arrogant superstar, but the goofball who knew how to make you laugh even when you were pissed.

You reached for the car door handle, but Tee's hand shot out, catching your wrist before you could make your escape. His grip was firm but gentle, a silent plea for you to stay for a little while longer. You looked down at your entwined hands, the tension in the air thick with unspoken words. When you looked up at him, you could feel your knees practically give out.

"Look," you began, your voice a shaky whisper.

He shook his head, both hands reaching for your waist. "Don't say it," Tee said, his eyes searching yours. "Don't push me away again. I can't handle that shit." The desperation in his voice was raw, a stark contrast to the cocky confidence he usually exuded. He swallowed slowly, trying to decipher the emotions playing on your face.

You looked down at his grip on your waist, not even realizing you were straddling him again, feeling the heat of his skin against yours. You didn't know what to say. Part of you knew better than to let him back in, but the other part of you, the part that had missed the warmth of his arms, the sparkle in his eyes, and the taste of his mouth, was begging for more. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

"You make this so hard," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. You didn't want to give in, not after all the pain he had caused you, but you could feel the wall you had built around your heart cracking.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled you closer, his forehead pressing against yours. "I know, baby," Tee whispered, his voice a sweet promise that sent shivers down your spine. "But we can make it work. Just give me another chance. I swear I'll do better for you."

Your eyes searched his, looking for the lie you told yourself had to be there. But all you found was sincerity, a desperation that mirrored your own. You didn't want to be that girl, the one who took him back after all the shit he had put you through. But you were that girl, and you knew it. With a sigh, you nodded, your body melting into his embrace. "Okay," you murmured, the word a barely-there whisper that seemed to echo in the car.

Tee's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if he was afraid you would change your mind. His lips found yours again, a gentle kiss that spoke of his gratitude and his love. You kissed him back, your hesitance dissipating like mist in the morning sun. You had missed this, missed the way he made you feel. A nagging need for his touch, his warmth, his love.

The two of you sat there in the car, kissing, until the reality of your surroundings began to seep back in. You pulled away with a final peck, your eyes wide with the sudden realization of where you were. "Your family's probably wondering where the fuck you are," you said with a laugh, pushing him back gently.

Tee's smile didn't fade. "They'll be fine. They should know better than wait on me when I'm with you." He kissed you again, and you felt the warmth of his affection spread through your body. The moment felt so right, so perfect, like a scene from a movie. But you knew that life was rarely a fairy tale, especially for the two of you.

"Look, I'm not saying we're back together," you began, setting clear boundaries despite your wavering resolve. "But maybe we can see where this goes."

Tee nodded, understanding the cautious tone in your voice. He knew he had to tread lightly. "Whatever you need from me, I'll do it. Just don't push me away again, please," he whispered, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your stomach flutter.

You shared one more lingering kiss before you finally climbed off of him, fixing your clothes with shaky hands. Tee watched you, his own need to touch you still strong. "Need me to walk you up? It's dark as hell out here," he offered, his voice still thick with hope.

You nodded, unable to resist the comfort of his company. The cool night air hit you as you stepped out of the car, the garage lights casting a stark contrast to the inky blackness outside. Tee took your purse in his hand, the other reaching to hold yours, a gesture that felt both familiar and foreign. As the two of you made your way through the now-desolate garage, the sound of your footsteps echoing, you allowed yourself to lean into him slightly, the weight of your decision hanging heavy in the space between you.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

One bed

Azriel x reader

Word count: 3000+

Summary: Due to unforeseen circumstances, you end up in the same room as Azriel

Warnings: none

I'd love to say I have solved the Frozen thingy, but I haven't yet. I've started writing part 3 and that's where I stopped because of the madness around. I was so close to making a solid plan for it. Unfortunately, the work happened, then Christmas at work baking f***ing chicken farm. Then husband got fever🙄and he couldn't live without getting someone else sick as well, so now son has high fever too and I'm the last one somehow surviving here. At least I have whole week of holidays next week. I hoped to relax and write more, but we'll see. Wish me luck🥴

Anyway here's something small and not so angsty that just popped up suddenly. Hope you enjoy it.

And for everyone who celebrate, have a peaceful holiday 💕

"I thought I've reserved enough rooms," Rhysand sighed. The last hour he was talking with the owner of the inn we were staying at, trying all possible tactics to persuade him to find us one more room. Impossible task from the very beginning as the inn was full.

We were on non-official official mission. At first, there were only six of us supposed to go as Amren declined, intending to stay with Mor in Velaris, protecting it. However, the two of them had yet another quarrel recently, which led to Amren suddenly appearing with a packed bag in hand a few seconds before intended departure. Nobody, not even Rhys, had balls to tell her no. And that's why we ended up in this situation. Rhys had everything perfectly planned, as usual, but he couldn't have known this would happen. And now we were one room short, but again - nobody dared to tell aloud whose fault it was. Amren was like hungry bulldog, ready to tear to shreds anyone and anything at the best of her days. Now, she was pissed off.

Feyre and Nesta took their keys, Feyre giving me an apologetic look. From the start, they were supposed to share rooms with their mates. This was also kind of vacation for us, so it was only logical they wanted to be with their partners.

That left Rhys with last two keys in hand. Amren snatched one and without looking at anyone or even a small mumbled sorry, she left. We exchanged look and whole group finally relaxed.

"Sorry," Feyre murmured as she headed to her room with sorrowful expression.

Before she left, Nesta gazed at me with silent question and I nodded. I would be fine, for sure. Cassian winked at me as he followed her. They both knew about the feelings I had for Azriel for quite some time, each supporting me in their own way. At this point, probably everyone around knew, except for the mentioned Shadowsinger and I didn't plan to be the one to break the news. I knew my limits and he was off them.

Rhys turned to me and Azriel with sorrowful expression, brows furrowed. "I'm sorry, Az, but you know.. Ladies first," he offered me the last key. Spymaster didn't even as much as blink, no protests at all. He looked as his usual self, unbothered by the problem at the hand.

"Thankies," I smiled, took the key and looped hand to Azriel's arm. "Come."

They both opened mouth in surprise, none of them expecting this from me. Rhys recovered as first.

"Enjoy yourself," he smirked and I rolled my eyes.

"Ha ha ha, how funny," I stuck out tongue at him. He chuckled and hurried after his mate, leaving the two of us alone. I raised brow at Shadowsinger who was still too shocked to speak. He didn't even notice Rhys' teasing.

"What? Did you think I would let you sleep on roof or what?"

"B-b-but," he stammered, his cheeks dusted with pink.

"No buts. Come!" I had to pull reluctant Azriel down the hallway.

"I can try another inn-"

"Nonsense! You would miss all the fun. Plus, I really don't mind. We are friends after all. I have nothing to be afraid of, right?"

I came to a sudden stop, realizing something.

"Wait! You mind staying with me in the same room?"

Before, it didn't occur to me that he could be against. I thought we were getting along pretty well, given the fact that we tended to seek out each other's company, sitting together and talking. The two of us even often hung out in the city, venturing cafes and bakeries. I thought he liked to spend time with me, but it could be only my mistaken impression. I knew I couldn't hope for more than friendship and I was fine with that as long as I could be close to him. He could feel differently though.

"No!" he hurried with an answer, eyes wide. "No, nothing like that. It's just.."

"What is it?"

"It's just.. you are female and I'm male."

I was so relieved to hear that, that I wanted to laugh, but I didn't. "That means that you will pounce on me like an animal as soon as door close?"

He flushed fiercely, averting his eyes. "You know I will do no such a thing. It just means that you might be uncomfortable because of that."

"I'm fine. Believe me," I said softly and took his hand. "So come on, silly."

He chuckled and this time, he willingly followed me.

The room, we got, was quite a nice one for an old inn, but it was rather smaller one. Most of the space was occupied by bed big enough to accommodate Illyrian wings. It was one of the reasons Rhysand chose this place, thinking about the comfort of his brothers. We were supposed to spend here whole week, maybe longer, so it was necessary.

Except of bed, there was only small table with two old chairs, hearth and connected bathroom.

After we settled down, the air had somehow thickened, both of us suddenly embarrassed. And so I did what I could to lighten the atmosphere a bit, but every try for a conversation died out soon after it started. At last, I gave up.

"It was long day," I stretched out, all my joints making a satisfying cracking sound and Azriel grimaced. He didn't like when I did it. "I'm tired. Do you want to use the bathroom as first?"

"No, go ahead," he offered and started to line up on table all the daggers he had on him. I paused and watched him, amazed. How could he hide so many? I thought he had only two, max three. He noticed me and smiled shyly.

"I'll clean them while you take shower. Don't worry, I'll put them away afterwards."

"I don't mind them at all," I mumbled, ashamed I got caught. "I'm just stunned you managed to sneak in the whole arsenal. Seeing it now, I would bet that not only do you have one for each of us but also even one spare."

At that he finally laughed, the rich sound warming my heart. I already missed that sound. Corners of my mouth curled into satisfied smile and I quickly gathered all necessary things and went to the bathroom.

When I came out, the daggers were gone from the table. Azriel was seated on the same chair he occupied since we came, pyjama in hands. He was staring into space, looking somehow troubled. Shadows gathered around his ear and he looked up at me, faking smile. Without a word, he stood up and hurried to the bathroom.

While I was waiting, I shoved my used underwear to the bottom of my bag and climbed to the bed, snuggling up in a warm blanket. It was quite cold here, old window hardly blocking the cold wind from outside.

Azriel took quite long to finish. By the time bathroom door creaked open, I was almost asleep. He rustled around for a while and adding big log to the fire, he turned off lights. I waited. The room went completely silent.

I opened eyes. "Are you kidding me," I sat up, sighing. "Az, I thought, we already talked it out." I glared into a dark corner by the hearth.

"Don't worry about me and sleep," he replied from his place on the old chair.

"You can't sleep on that old crap. It will most likely give in soon." The only answer was silence.

"C'mon, Az. It won't do you any good if you're sleep-deprived. To none of us in fact. What if something happens and you won't be able to fight because you are too tired and sore?"

Again silence.

"Do you want me to help you to the bed? I warn you, I'm going to drag you here not by arm but by ear this time."

He chuckled. His wings rustled and mattress dipped under his weight. "Fine then. Have it your way."

I tucked him in like a small child, mindful of his wings and settled down, heart pounding in my throat.

"That wasn't necessary."

"Believe me it was. And don't try to fake it. I'm light sleeper. I will know if you get up in the middle of the night."

"Fine, fine." He sounded amused. He was lying on his back, wings folded and tugged close to his body.

"Relax. The bed is enough big for both of us. Even if you touch me. I'm not made of sugar, I won't melt into puddle," I assured him as I curled up on my side of bed with back to him, taking as little space as possible so he had enough comfort. He made a sound at the back of his throat.

I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep at all with him being so close. But as bed warmed up with his presence and his calming scent wrapped around me as another blanket, I fell asleep in no time.

* * *

Azriel didn't even blink an eye. He was just lying there, stretched on his back, gazing at ceiling. He wasn't used to falling asleep next to someone. After she reassured him, he relaxed a bit but only his body. He was too nervous and excited at the same time. He was scared to even breath, not wanting to wake her up. How could she sleep so soundly? Didn't she feel the same? Didn't his presence stir her nerves?

Shadows curled on pillow near his ear, whispering. They described him in detail how she drifted off with sweet smile on her lips. Smile that she was still wearing. He wished he could see it with his own eyes.

He dared to turn his head to the side to watch her back, her shoulder slightly rising with every breath. Even at place like this in the middle of nowhere, she kept smelling like field of spring flowers, delicate and sweet. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the moment.

He felt so lucky right now and thanked the Mother for sending Amren at last minute, giving him this opportunity. For years, he was trying to get closer to Y/N. No matter how many times, he was ready to tell her about his feelings, he always gave up in the end, not daring to even suggest it. She was everything he wasn't, beautiful, kind and perfect. She deserved better.

He watched her entire night, mesmerized. It was strange. She was always so energetic during the day, yet at night she didn't move at all. It made him wonder whether it was because of him or it was normal.

It was after the sunrise when he finally calmed down and dozed off for hour or two.

* * *

Three days later, a knock sounded on our door. We were just finishing off the lasts of our breakfast. We looked up in time to see Rhysand's head peeking in. He held hand over his eyes with sassy smirk on his lips.

"Can I come in? I wouldn't like to see something inappropriate."

I rolled my eyes while Azriel bid him in, unaffected by his teasing. Honestly, everyone was making fun of us for no reason. After the first night, Nesta pulled me aside to ask me how it went and how I felt. I had nothing to tell her. At least nothing interesting anyway. I slept like a baby and not only the first night, but every night after.

Every evening, Azriel dutifully took his side of bed and I curled up on mine. No touching, only a pleasant small chat between friends. It was noticeable that he didn't sleep much the first night, however after that, he didn't seem to have such troubles. I was glad for that.

"I came to inform you that finally one more room is available. If you want, one of you can take it," he grinned and waited for our reply with one brow raised.

Out of the corner of eye, I looked at Azriel who was already eyeing me with unreadable expression. It seemed he wouldn't speak and it was up to me to decide.

"Well.. I don't mind to share room with Az at all. But if you'd like to have your privacy.." I turned to him.

His eyes widened slightly and his lips moved without making a sound.

"I don't mind, too," he managed.

"So," Rhys dragged the word. "You want to stay together? Really?"

We nodded as one man, not willing to give him what he hoped for. He was visibly disappointed.

"Fine then," he sighed, "as you want. I'll inform the owner."

* * *

A week later we were so used to this situation and each other's presence that we returned to our usual selves, rambling about anything, laughing, even touching lightly.

Our mission was over and this was our last night of sharing room. Azriel was spread on bed next to me, his wing gently touching my back. I was slowly falling asleep while we did small talk. Somewhere between dream and reality I got idea. Crazy as it was, my sleepy brain didn't find anything strange or wrong with it and my body acted on its own.

With closed eyes I rolled to his side, wrapped arm around his waist and rested my head on his chest. Azriel made a surprised sound and stiffened, but he didn't try to push me away. His smell filled my nose, his warmth seeping into me. Frantic but steady melody of his heart lulled me deeper into sleep. Last thing I felt before I completely drifted off, was his body relaxing under me and his arm holding me close.

* * *

Azriel was so surprised, he couldn't think straight. What was happening? He touched Y/N lightly, yet she didn't mind. She was almost asleep, relaxed and seemingly comfortable with him as her pillow. He felt her smiling into his chest and that gave him courage to wrap his hands around her. She hummed with satisfaction and dozed off completely.

Azriel gazed at her, unsure what to think or feel. Naturally, it made him happy, a dream-come-true kind of situation, but was it really okay? Was it really happening? It seemed to him just like a figment of his imagination, fed by amazing week spent by her side, so close to her.

He pinched himself, really painfully, leaving a bruise on his forearm. It was real. He swallowed hard. Slowly small smile spread on his face. He could get used to this.

When the initial surprise and embarrassment had passed, he found himself enjoying this. His heart was pounding fast, as he touched her hair and pushed them aside to see her face. He couldn't help it and traced a single finger down her face and jaw, mapping her full lips, lovely nose and soft arches of her brows.

He chuckled lightly. Y/N didn't even stir. So much to a light-sleeper.

As he watched her, his fantasy took over, offering him all kinds of imaginary situations that could lead to them ending up in this position; from innocent snuggling together for the night to them being naked, covered in sweat and spent after good sex. His heart squeezed in pain. He loved it and wanted it all. He didn't even realize that he was tugging her closer and closer, holding her so firmly there was no space left between them.

Despite everything, the scenario of innocent snuggling immediately became his favourite one. It held a certain kind of peace and warmth, something he longed for the most. He kept replaying it again and again until he fell asleep, too. The fantasy followed him even to his dreams where it became so real that it was unbearable.

* * *

I woke up unusually early at dawn. Still drowsy I looked around, not comprehending where I was. I was warm and comfy, so ready to close my eyes again, until I notice rising and falling steady flesh under me. That completely woke me up.

I looked up, finding Azriel still fast asleep. He was smiling sweetly, yet the tears rolled down his cheeks, soft whimpers leaving his lips. My chest tightened at the sight. It hurt me to see him like this. I reached up and gently wiped the tears off.

He slowly opened eyes and looked at me, still smiling.

"Good morning," I whispered.

"'Morning, Y/N," he replied, his deep voice raspy in the most sexy way. His thumb started to move up and down my waist in soothing motion.

"Bad dreams?"

"Sometimes dreams can be so beautiful that they make one cry," he murmured. He sounded so sad that I felt like crying too. Instead, I placed both of my hands on his chest and rested my chin on top of them.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I searched his eyes.

He shook his head and wiped off the rest of his tears. "I just wish I could go back and keep having the same dream for the rest of my life," he sighed, his eyes never leaving my face.

I propped up on my elbow and caressed his cheek. "You know that dreams don't have to stay dreams. They can became reality if you want them to."

His eyes widened and he swallowed hard. He seemed to be thinking very hard about something. Determination filled his eyes and he lifted up his head, stopping an inch from my face, waiting.

It was so sudden that I held my breath, but I didn't pull away. Watching me closely, Azriel leaned even closer and his lips lightly grazed over mine. I moaned, my body acting on its own. My eyes closed and I firmly pressed my lips to his. All the years of my suppressed feelings poured into this one kiss, not believing that there would be any more. He groaned and opened up, slowly moving, testing the waters. His fingers dug into flesh of my waist, holding me impossibly close.

It ended as suddenly as it started. He reluctantly broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine, heaving.

"I want it to become real."

[kiwriteswords]

I kinda need Hotch accidentally hurting shy!Readers feelings…I need angst with a happy ending!

What's Left Unsaid [Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 1k|| AN: Love to write some shy!reader/hotch dynamics! Also playing out with the gifs and graphics I make for fics a little bit more. Thanks for the request!

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, alcohol mention, team outing, bar setting, fear of commitment (stemming from both sides), happy ending but left a little open to interpretation, shy reader, mentions of Beth, mentions of the breakup with Beth, mentions of Jack, Dad!First!Mentality!Hotch, Friends with Benefits, Secret Relationship, Hotch's POV

Summary: When Hotch reveals to the team the reason he doesn't want a relationship, it hurts your feelings because the two of you have been secretly seeing each other, and you're wondering if it is going anywhere.

Hotch sipped his beer, trying to appear relaxed as he leaned back in the booth. The chatter of the team mingled with the ambient noise of the bar, but his attention was subtly tuned to you, sitting just a bit too far away for his liking. In his peripheral vision, he watched you laugh softly at something Rossi said. The sound was like music, and it made him smile, albeit briefly.

You and Hotch had been seeing each other secretly for a few months now. It started casually, two colleagues seeking comfort in each other after long, taxing cases. But slowly, the physical connection had deepened into late-night talks, shared dinners, and quiet evenings watching movies on the couch after Jack had gone to bed. Neither of you had put a label on whatever this was blossoming into, both hesitant to complicate things further. Hotch, especially, feared the implications of wanting more.

The first time it happened, it was almost by accident. You and Hotch had been the last to leave the BAU after a grueling case that had stretched over several weeks. The weight of the ordeal was palpable, lingering in the air like a thick fog. Hotch had offered to walk you to your car, a gesture of simple politeness, but when you reached the parking lot, neither of you seemed ready to part ways just yet.

"Want to grab a late dinner?" Hotch had suggested, his voice low and a bit hesitant. You were surprised; Hotch was always reserved, focused on the job, rarely stepping beyond the professional boundaries he so rigidly set for himself. But that night, something in his eyes—a shared tiredness, a mutual need for decompression—made you nod in agreement.

That dinner marked the beginning of what would become your secret connection. It wasn't planned or discussed; it just naturally evolved as you both found comfort in each other’s presence outside the high-stakes environment of the FBI. The diner meals became a routine, a way to unwind, and slowly, those meetings shifted to more personal settings. Hotch invited you over to watch a movie one evening when Jack was away at a sleepover. You brought over a classic film and takeout and found comfort in the quiet companionship that filled his living room.

You were naturally shy, a trait that often made you a listener rather than a speaker in the noisy dynamics of the team. Hotch noticed this early on. He learned quickly that you communicated more in silence than most did in conversation. He appreciated the quiet moments with you, how you seemed to understand the weight of words left unspoken. But he also knew he sometimes had to coax thoughts out of you, especially when he sensed something was troubling you.

One such evening, as the credits rolled on the screen, he turned to find you lost in thought, a distant look in your eyes. "What’s on your mind?" he asked gently, careful not to startle you out of your contemplation.

You hesitated, then smiled faintly. "Just... thinking about the case," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. But he knew there was more—you often carried the emotional burdens of your work longer and deeper than most.

"It’s more than just the case, isn’t it?" Hotch prodded softly, giving you the space to open up at your own pace. Over time, he had become adept at navigating your shyness, offering you security in his steadiness.

You looked at him, the trust in his gaze encouraging you to share your fears. "Sometimes, I wonder if we ever really make a difference," you confessed, your voice tinged with the fatigue of the many losses you had witnessed.

Hotch listened, nodding, never pushing too hard, always patient. He shared his own doubts and hopes, a rare glimpse into his inner world that made you feel even closer to him.

These moments deepened your connection, transforming it from a simple comfort into something more profound. Yet neither of you dared to define it. Hotch, especially, was cautious, weighed down by the responsibility of being a father to Jack. His previous relationship with Beth had ended amicably but not without its scars—particularly for Jack, who had grown attached and then had to cope with the loss when she moved away.

So, Hotch held back, fearful of repeating the past, even as his feelings for you grew. And you, understanding his concerns, reciprocated the silence on the nature of your relationship. But as the months passed, the unspoken bond between you became a silent promise of support and companionship, even if neither of you yet had the courage to give it a name.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, a reminder of an unread message from earlier in the day—something mundane about Jack's soccer practice. He glanced at you again, taking in your shy smile, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear. He wanted more, so much more, but the fear of another loss for Jack held him back. It wasn't just about him or even about you; it was about Jack, too.

The conversation shifted, and suddenly the focus was on him. "Hotch," Prentiss started, her tone light but curious, "you ever think about dating again? It's been a while since Beth..."

The question hung in the air, heavier than the smoke swirling above them. The team's eyes were on him, but his flicked to you. He saw the slight stiffening of your shoulders, the curious tilt of your head as you waited for his answer.

He hesitated, his mind racing. "I... I can't imagine putting Jack through that again," he finally said, his voice more gruff than intended. "Getting attached to someone, and then... if it doesn't work out..." He trailed off, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

The team nodded, understanding his protective nature over his young son, but you didn't. He saw the hurt flash across your face before you masked it with a small, polite smile. You excused yourself to the restroom, and Rossi gave him a knowing look, one that said he might have just made a mistake.

Hotch's heart sank. He wanted to go after you, to explain, but he was anchored to his seat by his own fears and the eyes of his team. He drank more deeply from his beer, trying to wash down the guilt.

When you returned, the barrier between you was palpable. You kept your answers short, your smiles forced, and though the team didn’t seem to notice, Hotch felt every inch of the growing distance.

The night ended with the team going their separate ways, and Hotch found himself walking you to your car. The air was chilly, making him wish he could reach out and pull you into his warmth. "About earlier," he started, his voice rough with emotion. "I didn't mean—"

"It's okay, Hotch," you cut him off, though your voice was softer than usual. "I understand. Jack should be your priority. I wouldn't ever want to come between that."

"But you wouldn't," Hotch found himself saying, the words rushing out in a torrent. "It’s not just about protecting Jack. It's... I’m scared of asking for more and then losing it. But what I said it wasn't fair to you. I do want more with you if you want that too."

You looked up at him, surprise evident in your expression. "Really?" There was a cautious hope in your voice, one that made his heart twist.

"Yes, really," he affirmed, stepping closer. The space between you felt charged, his fear momentarily eclipsed by the need to make things right.

You nodded slowly, considering his words. "I need to think about it, Aaron. I... I want more too, but I don’t know how to... not with how things are right now."

Hotch nodded, understanding. "Take all the time you need. I’ll be here," he promised.

As you got into your car, Hotch felt the weight of your words and his own fears. He watched as you drove away, the taillights a red blur in the night. Maybe it was time to confront his fears, not just for his own sake, but for Jack's, and perhaps, for whatever chance he had with you.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

@iyskgd

[theemporium]

Quinn Hughes +ice skating❤️

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“I think this counts as cheating.”

Quinn’s lips twitched upwards. “How is it cheating?” 

“Because this is your profession,” you retorted, your head still staring down helplessly at your own skates. 

Quinn looked at you with a fond expression. “You said you wanted to do something fun and wintery for date night.”

“This is hardly a fun winter activity when it’s like breathing for you,” you muttered, letting out a harsh breath when you felt your skates slip a little but Quinn’s grip on you kept you upright. “Fucking hell, I am going to die.”

Quinn snorted. “You’re not going to die.”

“This might literally be the last date night we ever have.” 

It was no secret that NHL players had schedules from hell. You knew that. Quinn had warned you constantly at the start of your relationship. So many other partners had reiterated the point until it was drilled into your head. You knew that no matter what, the scheduling was going to be a constant hurdle you would have to jump over in your relationship. 

But you had your ways around it. 

The date nights weren’t always every week or anything, but they were planned. It was dedicated time you both put effort into, took turns planning and always stuck to. No matter what was happening in either one of your work lives, it was all left behind for the duration of the date. They were even marked out on your shared calendar because Quinn was oddly endearing and organised like that.

You had made a passing comment to Quinn a week or so ago about wanting to do something more seasonal for your next date night. You just had assumed he would be as predictable as choosing ice skating—albeit, city ice skating in a public rink, but your point still stood. 

“You think I would let you die?” Quinn mused, choosing not to comment on the way you were digging your nails into his arm—even through your gloves. 

“You were the one who dragged me out onto the ice,” you grumbled, letting out a whimpering sound when a kid skated past you at such a high speed that it almost knocked you over by surprise. “This is public humiliation.”

“I would never let anything happen to you,” Quinn assured you as he pulled you closer, continuing to skate backwards with ease because he was a dick like that. “My reputation would be tarnished if you died under my supervision. Jack and Luke would never let me forget it.”

You lifted your head to glare at your boyfriend. 

Quinn’s grin widened in response. “Kidding. Mum would kill me first.”

“Ellen would avenge me,” you said with a nod. 

“You are her favourite.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you snorted but at least you were smiling now. “But I’ll take it right now because I’m pretty sure I am getting a cramp in my leg and I need you to drag me along before that kid skates by again.”

.

[ddodol]

seven minutes — j.sc

series ⭑.ᐟ [ kinktober masterlist ] content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, sungchan, fem!reader, pet names, seven minutes in heaven, quiet and needy affair, begging, overstimulation (m.), squirting, unprotected sex (seems to be the running theme). word count⭑.ᐟ 1.3k+

“aren’t you glad you’re stuck here with me?”

you glared at sungchan, eliciting light laughter from him when you rolled your eyes. “it’s better to be with someone you know though, right?”

you couldn’t deny that, and it frustrated you even more. going to a different college’s party should’ve been a bad idea, especially if you only went there for one person— someone who wasn’t even there.

sungchan noticed the small pout forming on your lips amidst the minimal light peeking inside the closet. he took up most of the space at the back so you were forced to hug your knees by the closet door, your elbow slightly pushing them open.

”we’re gonna be here for seven minutes, it’ll make your experience better if you at least talk to me.” you hated your options, letting out a deep sigh as you glanced at sungchan. he smiled slightly, eyes disappearing as he leaned over.

”what’s there to talk about? it’s not like we ever had anything in common.”

sungchan exclaimed in protest, poking your leg with his finger, “you don’t even have a good reason to hate me.” he pouted when you didn’t reply, “i’m telling you, anton isn’t interested.”

you groaned, pushing his hand away from you out of frustration. you already knew that but you still wanted to take your chances while you both were single. it’s not like you were in the wrong, constantly hearing about how you didn’t have a chance with your crush would make anyone want to hate sungchan.

you felt something crawling around, eyes darting through the darkness to try and locate what it was. “what’s wrong?” sungchan asked meekly.

”there’s a spider by your shoulder,” you could barely finish your sentence before sungchan threw himself at you— screeching inaudibly as he bent his huge body to pin you against the other side of the closet. you grumbled, desperately trying to push him away.

”fuck off, sungchan! it’s just a spider!” you exclaimed in a hushed tone, beginning to feel flustered when his hand brushed against your chest. “watch it! hands off right now!” you spoke quickly, flailing around as you try to pull his hands away.

your hand slipped, losing grip on your knees which caused you to try and regain your balance by grabbing onto something. you patted your hand around, squeezing the soft thing you managed to place your hand on. sungchan let out a soft moan, body tensing up as he hung his head.

”at least do it properly if you just wanted to touch me,” he grumbled, breathing down your neck. you felt it getting hotter and harder, finally realizing where your hand landed.

sungchan placed a hot kiss on your neck, “please, don’t stop.” you felt your body heating up, hand moving around to palm him through his loose pants. sungchan returned the favor by fondling your tits, whispering how good your hand felt.

his cock began to get more erect, throbbing against your hand as you tried holding it— he was huge, too huge. your hand was barely enough to cover it all but he still melted against your touch.

”fuck, keep doing that.” your legs trembled, pushing them together as your breathing began to get rougher. the closed space you shared became warmer, skin sticking against each other.

sungchan’s other hand began to travel lower, making you shudder. he swallowed thickly, hand trembling as he rubbed your leg. “do you need me, y/n?”

you could feel the warmth of his hand on your leg, hyperaware of the length and thickness of his fingers. you whimpered, head spinning as you thought of having sungchan’s fingers inside you.

”please,” you breathed out, spreading your legs apart to make it easier for him. sungchan’s hand on your leg slithered up to your inner thigh, letting out a small moan when his fingers grazed over your heat. you were glad you wore a dress tonight, albeit for a different reason.

you were completely soaked against your panties, pushing them to the side impatiently as sungchan didn’t hesitate to sink his fingers inside your walls. you moaned softly, trembling at the sudden stimulation. his fingers were barely inside and yet it already felt amazing.

sungchan sucked on your skin, breathing shakily as he began to move his fingers. “baby, i’m still moving my hand. you should do the same,” you bit your lip, squeezing down on his cock.

”sungchan,” you moaned, too dizzy to think or do anything. “fuck, that’s so good,” your voice went higher, still trying your best to moan quietly.

”y/n, wrap your hand around me.” you obeyed, small hand barely wrapped around his still clothed cock. sungchan began to move his hips, moaning against your skin. it was almost amazing how he consistently moved his fingers inside you while thrusting his cock into your hand— it almost felt like a huge waste.

you pushed him back, seeing a flash of confusion on his face. you straddled his legs, busily slipping your panties off and pulling his pants down. sungchan caught on a bit too late, chuckling softly as he held your hips.

there were noises outside just as you held his bare cock in your hand, rubbing his tip against your entrance. sungchan moved quickly, keeping the closet doors closed as he gave you a nod. you giggled when they tried opening the closet you two were in, signaling the end of your little game.

what a shame; you were just getting started.

sungchan kept his eyes on you as your face contorted, letting out adorable moans as you sunk down his cock. you felt incredibly stretched out, thighs already trembling and you weren’t even taking half of him.

”keep going, baby. i know you can take me,” he mumbled, gently pushing you down his cock. you shook your head, quivering as you leaned against his chest.

”you’re too fucking big, sungchan,” you whined, eliciting small giggles from him. he whispered words of praise against your ear, helping you bounce on his cock. “fuck, there,” your hips began to move on their own, desperately trying to replicate the pleasure you felt the first time.

sungchan licked his lips, watching you slowly lose yourself with every bounce. it was a pretty sight, your head thrown back and tits bouncing as you ride him. “just like that, y/n.” you moaned in response, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

”i’m close, baby,” he groaned, gripping tightly on your waist. you ran your hands on his arm, feeling his veins popping up.

you shook your head, “i’m not close yet, sungchan.” you bit your lip, “just do it inside, i still need more.”

”fuck,” sungchan exclaimed, spilling inside you. he jerked up sensitively, moaning breathily when you kept moving your hips. wet noises began to fill the space, his cum sloshing around with every bounce.

sungchan lifted you up, still keeping his cock inside you. you laid uncomfortably against the walls of the closet, thighs split open as sungchan pushed deeper inside you. “oh my god!” you quietly cried out in surprise at how deep he could reach.

he laughed, “i can go deeper, baby. if you let me do this outside the closet, i’ll give you every inch.” you shuddered, head spinning when his cock kept kissing your deepest walls. sungchan was thrusting roughly, playing with your clit as he leaned over.

”cum for me, y/n. make a big mess for me,” he whispered, placing kisses on the top of your head. you gasped, orgasm quickly approaching.

you grabbed on sungchan’s clothes, “fuck, fuck, fuck— sungchan!” you cried out, hitting your head against the wall as you came. you made a huge mess, thighs trembling as you kept squirting everywhere.

sungchan chuckled, stilling inside you as he watched, “you’re so pretty like this, baby.”

as soon as you cooled down, sungchan pulled out, his cum dripping out of you. he peppered small kisses all over your face, prompting you to pull him close. he giggled, holding you as he kept kissing your face.

you stared at him tiredly, playing with his hair, “i’ll take you up on that offer.”

sungchan raised his head, looking at you in confusion. you laughed softly, “take me home right now. i want every inch of you.” he smiled widely, placing a quick kiss on your lips.

”i swear i’ll fuck you so good you won’t be able to think of other men afterwards, baby.”

[woso-story]

The Weight Of Love And Loss - Part Six

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Part One Two Three Four Five Seven

It had been a week since Alexia’s long-awaited return to the pitch. The roar of the crowd, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, the sheer joy of being back in her element—it all reminded her of who she was before the injury, before the pain, before everything fell apart. But after the final whistle, when the applause faded and the stadium lights dimmed, she was reminded of what she no longer had: you.

For months, Alexia had been staying with Mapi and Ingrid, their guest room a refuge from the memories that haunted her own apartment. But now, with her comeback complete, it was time to return to her space, to face the life she had to rebuild.

Moving back wasn’t easy. The first night alone was eerily quiet, the absence of your laughter, your presence, deafening. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the framed photos she had taken down but couldn’t bring herself to pack away completely. They were tucked in a drawer now, out of sight but never out of mind.

To reclaim the apartment, Alexia started rearranging things. She moved furniture, swapped out old décor, and even painted an accent wall in the living room. She told herself the changes would help her move on, that creating something new in the space you had once shared would lessen the sting of your absence.

But some things stayed the same. The coffee mugs you both loved were still in the cupboard, and she couldn’t bring herself to replace the couch where you had spent countless nights together, curled up under a shared blanket.

---

On the surface, Alexia was thriving. She was back on the field, her knee stronger than ever. Training sessions with her teammates brought back a sense of camaraderie and purpose. Her therapy sessions continued, though now they focused less on processing her injury and more on navigating her emotions.

Her psychologist encouraged her to reflect on the changes she had made—not just in her physical recovery but in how she approached life. She admitted that losing you had been a wake-up call, a painful but necessary reminder to take care of herself and the people she loved.

Alexia still attended small rehab sessions, maintaining her knee’s strength and stability, but she no longer approached them with the all-consuming intensity she once had. Balance was her new mantra—on the field, in her relationships, and in her heart.

Her teammates noticed the difference. She was more grounded, more present, and while she still pushed herself, it was clear she wasn’t running from anything anymore.

But Mapi, her closest confidant, knew better.

---

“You’re doing amazing, Ale,” Mapi said one evening after training, her tone warm but probing.

Alexia smiled, brushing her hair back. “Thanks. It feels good to be back.”

Mapi studied her, the way Alexia’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’re not fooling me, you know.”

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re better, yeah. Stronger, happier. But there’s still something missing,” Mapi said, crossing her arms. “You don’t have to say it, but I know it’s her.”

Alexia looked away, her chest tightening. “It’s not that simple, Mapi.”

“No, it’s not,” Mapi agreed. “But avoiding it doesn’t make it go away.”

Alexia didn’t respond, instead staring at the floor. She knew Mapi was right. She thought about you constantly—how things ended, the conversations you had in the café, the quiet hope she still carried in her heart. But you wanted space, and Alexia was determined to respect that.

---

Meanwhile, you had found your footing in a life without Alexia.

Your apartment was small but cozy, a space that felt entirely your own. Mylo, your Maltese puppy, brought light and joy to your days, his boundless energy pulling you out of bed even on the mornings when your heart felt heavy.

Work had become a source of fulfillment. The promotion you earned brought new challenges, and you threw yourself into projects that excited you. You were finally living for yourself again, no longer consumed by the emotional weight of your relationship’s downfall.

But despite your best efforts, Alexia was never far from your thoughts.

Sometimes, late at night, you found yourself scrolling through her Instagram. She looked radiant in her photos—her strength and confidence seemingly restored. You noticed the changes in her apartment, the little details in the background of her posts that hinted at her efforts to move forward.

You didn’t like or comment again, not since the “Proud of you” message weeks ago. But every time you saw her smiling face, a mixture of pride and longing filled your chest.

---

Luisa wasn’t convinced by your insistence that everything was fine.

“You’re doing amazing, but don’t think I don’t see it,” Luisa said during one of your park walks with Mylo.

“See what?” you asked, pretending not to know.

“You miss her,” Luisa said plainly.

You sighed, looking down at Mylo, who was tugging at his leash. “Of course I miss her. But that doesn’t mean going back is the answer.”

Luisa didn’t push further, but her knowing look stayed with you.

---

For weeks, you and Alexia lived separate lives, each trying to move forward while carrying the quiet ache of what had been.

Alexia focused on her career, her therapy, and her friendships. She was stronger than she had been in months, her confidence slowly returning. But every now and then, she’d catch herself glancing at her phone, wondering if you were thinking of her too.

You continued to build a life that felt fulfilling and free, Mylo at your side and work keeping you busy. But in the quiet moments—those rare evenings when the noise of the day faded—you wondered if Alexia had truly moved on, or if she missed you as much as you missed her.

The people around you saw it—the lingering shadows in your smiles, the way neither of you seemed quite whole.

Neither of you were ready to reach out. Neither of you were ready to let go.

And so, for now, you lived separate lives, carrying the hope that maybe, one day, your paths would cross again.