#look. just saying. maybe he should get better ways of showing love!!

[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.

[bladeux]

⟡ ゛couch conversations ‧ ° ⟡

just silly, random conversations with your s/o :P | fluff

pairings : acheron, aventurine, black swan, sunday, dr. ratio x gn! reader (separate)

⏾ Acheron

You and Acheron were sitting on the couch in the warmly lit room. Your head rests on her lap, and though her face carries its usual sharp, composed expression, there’s a gentle way her fingers play with your hair that speaks volumes. “You know,” you begin, looking up at her with a sly grin, “for someone who’s supposed to be intimidating, you’re really bad at it when we’re alone.” Her eyes flick down to meet yours, one brow arching. “Oh? Should I try harder?” “Not with me,” you reply, your voice teasing. “You’ve got a reputation to uphold, Galaxy Ranger.” Acheron hums. “If you keep talking like that, I might need to remind you why people find me intimidating.” “Oh no, what are you gonna do?” you mock-gasp, holding a hand to your chest. “Glare at me? Scold me? Tickle me?” The last suggestion earns a rare, genuine smirk from her, and you realize too late that you’ve just set yourself up. Before you can react, her hands dart to your sides, and you burst into uncontrollable laughter as she tickles you mercilessly. “Stop! Stop! I take it back!” you wheeze, tears pricking at your eyes. She finally surrenders, her smirk softening into something almost tender as she brushes a stray strand of hair from your face. “That’s what I thought,” she says, though there’s no bite in her tone. You catch your breath, still smiling, and reach up to touch her cheek. “You’re terrible, you know that?” “Mhm. And yet, you’re still here.” She leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and your heart felt like it might burst.

⏾ Aventurine

You and Aventurine sit side by side on the bed. He’s fiddling with one of his rings, his sharp eyes glinting with mischief as he watches you struggle with a small puzzle cube you picked up earlier. “Still stuck?” he asks, his tone laced with amusement. You glare at him without looking up. “No. I’m… just strategizing.” “Strategizing,” he repeats, leaning back against the headboard. “That’s one way to put it.” “Do you mind?” you snap playfully, turning the cube in frustration. “Your commentary isn’t helping. Aventurine grins, clearly enjoying your struggle. “You know, I solved one of those in under a minute once. Maybe you should take notes.” “Oh, please,” you scoff, finally looking up at him. “You probably just smashed it and put it back together piece by piece.” He gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “How dare you insult my intelligence?” “Don’t even try to argue.” He narrows his eyes, sitting up straighter. Before you can even react, he snatches the cube from your hands with speed. “Let me show you how a real genius does it.” You watch as he starts turning the pieces with precision, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration. You’re not sure whether to be impressed or annoyed. “Are you actually good at this?” you ask, leaning over his shoulder. “Better than you,” he replies smugly. A few moments later, the cube is solved, and Aventurine holds it up triumphantly. “And that, my dear, is how it’s done.” You gape at him, torn between disbelief and admiration. “Okay, fine. You’re not just entirely muscles.” He smirks, setting the cube aside and leaning closer to you. “Was that a compliment? From you? I should savor this moment.” “Don’t let it go to your head,” you mutter, though your smile betrays you. Aventurine chuckles, his voice softening as he cups your cheek. “Admit it. You love that I keep surprising you.” “Maybe I do,” you whisper, and he returns a smile.

⏾ Black Swan

The night was quiet. Black Swan sits on the couch, a book balanced on her knees. You lie beside her, your head resting against her thigh, staring up at her in a way that you know will get a reaction. “You’re ignoring me again,” you say, your tone light and teasing. “I’m reading,” she replies without looking away from her book. Her voice is calm, with slight amusement in it. “You know, most people would put their books down when their partner’s trying to talk to them,” you continue, undeterred. She turns a page. “Most people wouldn’t interrupt someone who’s clearly reading.” You grin, sitting up just enough to poke her cheek. “You’re such a workaholic. I bet even your dreams are about solving mysteries or something revolutionary. Black swan lets out a small giggle, and she finally sets the book aside, her dark eyes meeting yours. “Do you ever stop talking?” “Do you ever stop pretending you don’t like it?” you counter, leaning closer. Black Swan stares at you for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, a small, rare smile graces her lips. “You’re insufferable,” she murmurs, her hand brushing against your cheek. “Only for you,” you reply, your voice softening. She shakes her head, but her fingers linger, tracing the curve of your jaw. “I suppose I can… tolerate it,” she says, her tone light, but the way she leans down to press her lips to yours tells you everything you need to know.

⏾ Sunday

You and Sunday lie side by side on the bed, sharing a blanket. He’s propped up on one elbow, watching you intently as you scroll through your phone. You glance at him and smirk. “You know, it’s kind of creepy how you just stare at me sometimes,” you tease, putting your phone down. He raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on in that chaotic brain of yours.” “Good luck with that,” you reply, laughing. “Even I don’t know half the time.” Sunday shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “That explains a lot.” You narrow your eyes at him, shifting to face him fully. “Alright, since you’re apparently so curious about my brain, let’s play a game. I’ll ask you a question, and you have to answer honestly.” He leans back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “Go ahead. Try me.” “Okay,” you say, grinning mischievously. “What’s something you secretly like that you’d never admit to anyone else?” Sunday tilts his head slightly, as if considering his answer carefully. “I enjoy watching those ridiculous, corny, romantic dramas. The ones where the plot is absolutely predictable with unrealistic scenes.” Your eyes widen in surprise. “Wait, seriously? You always act like you’re not paying attention!” He shrugs, his expression unreadable. “Doesn’t mean I’m not listening. It’s… entertaining, in its own chaotic way.” You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. “Oh! I can’t believe you secretly love watching those shows with me.” “I didn’t say I love them,” he corrects, with a faint blush painted on his cheeks “You totally do!” you exclaim, sitting up and pointing at him. “Next time I put one on, don’t even pretend to be busy. You’re watching with me, and that’s final.” Sunday shakes his head, but his small smile gives him away. You lean closer to him. “Admit it. You love this chaotic brain of mine.” He sighs, his gaze softening as he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I do,” he murmurs, his voice low. “Even when you drive me crazy.” Your teasing fades as you take in the rare tenderness in his expression. You lean in, resting your forehead against his. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me, Mr. Sunday.”

⏾ Dr. Ratio

The room was quiet and dimly lit as you lie on the bed beside Dr. Ratio. He has one arm draped over his eyes, clearly trying to relax, but you’re determined to disrupt his peace. “Ratio,” you call out, poking his side lightly. “Hmm?” he responds, his voice calm. “Ratio,” you repeat, poking him again. “What do you want?” he asks, still not moving the arm shielding his eyes. “You’re such a nerd,” you tease, unable to hold back a grin. “I mean, who even talks about… molecular structures during dinner?” His arm shifts slightly, revealing one eye. He arches an eyebrow at you. “Someone who likes to have deep intelligent conversations, perhaps?” “Oh, is that what you call it?” you counter, laughing. “You’re practically a walking textbook. Should I call you an encyclopedia from now on?” He lets out a small huff of laughter and shakes his head, clearly amused. “You know, for someone who claims to love me, you’re awfully critical of my intelligence.” “Love you? Who said anything about love?” you joke, leaning closer. “I’m only here because you’re entertaining.” Ratio finally turns to face you fully, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Entertaining? That’s an interesting way of telling me that I am ‘irresistibly charming and brilliant.’ You chuckle. “Charming? Maybe when you’re not going on about thermodynamics or trying to explain the law of relativity.” “You’re the one who asked about it,” he points out, his smirk widening. “Admit it—you find it endearing.” “Endearing? No way. I just like seeing you get all excited when you talk about that stuff,” you say, grinning. For a moment, Ratio doesn’t respond. Instead, he moves quickly, rolling over to pin you beneath him. His face is close to yours now, his expression a mix of smugness and affection. “Careful,” he murmurs, “or I might start thinking you actually enjoy my so-called ‘nerdy’ side.” “Maybe I do,” you admit softly, your smile turning sincere. “It’s kind of adorable, actually, seeing you light up when you talk about things.” He blinks, caught off guard, and his teasing expression falters. Then, his smirk returns, softer now. “You’re lucky I love you,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “And you’re lucky you’re a nerd,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around him. “Because I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

a/n: i really wanted to make a fic for acheswan and i kinda got carried away with ratio’s LOL but ya i hope u like this one i just love having silly talks with my friends or whatever 🙂‍↕️

[urhoneycombwitch]

love light gleams

rockstar!Eddie Munson x Reader Eddie and the band are stranded for Christmas. at least the pay phone's working.

foreword: haven’t heard from these cuties in awhile!! here’s my other fic of these two but not necessary to read beforehand. just a bit of schmoopy holiday fluff for the soul <3 (in the timeline, this is set in the early days of Corroded’s first tour where they’re just on the cusp of public notability/recognition)

cw: holiday fluff, alcohol/drinking, R is referred to with occasional she/her pronouns, R is related to Joyce (no specificity), Eddie gets a public boner™️, implied smut

wc: 3.1k

___

Goddamn Murphy and his law.

First, the tour bus breaks down in the middle of Where the Fuck Are We, Idaho, and Jeff maybe could’ve fixed it in time to get them over the next leg of the trip- if it weren’t for the giant snowstorm blizzard from hell. 

After much pulling of hair and frozen appendages, the band decided to call it quits and splurge some of the quickly dwindling Road Fund on a motel for the night; the idea of ones own room and a hot shower swiftly smothered by the front desk clerk. 

“Four rooms, the night before Christmas?” The man looked about as haggard as the rest of them, but Eddie couldn’t find it in his heart to feel too bad with the way the guy was chuckling mirthfully. “Got a better chance of seein’ Santa himself.”

Eddie grit his teeth and paid for a single. Without cussing. A feat that should land him on the Nice List, forever. 

When the group finally trudged into the lone spare room (spreading out as much as could be allowed, they were all sick of each other, at this point), Eddie used the phone to get ahold of their tour manager, who managed to top the evening off with the worst news of all.

“Christmas show at Garter’s is cancelled,” Eddie had announced to his sullen men after slamming the phone back on its hook. “Looks like we’re sitting ducks for the holidays.”

After dejected calls home and a few last desperate, futile attempts to charm airline employees over the phone, Corroded Coffin trooped through the bitter weather to hole up at the only bar in town.

Jeff, Gareth, and Jacob all settled into a booth with minimal complaints, gloved hands wrapping eagerly around mugs of hot toddies while Eddie simmered and stewed at the end of the bench, unable to sit still.

He should probably make the best of a bad situation, buy his boys another round and muster up some goodwill, but Eddie isn’t ready for an attitude adjustment quite yet.

He’s thinking of you, nearly two thousand miles east, cozy at home in Hawkins. In Eddie’s mind’s eye, you’re curled up by the fireplace in soft flannel-print pajamas (the pair he let you ‘borrow’ years ago), munching on sugar cookies and looking deliciously peaceful. 

Jeff throws him a bone, slides two quarters down the table to Eddie, saying- “Go call her, man. You’ll be annoying as hell until you do.”

Emerson chimes in, pointing towards the front doors a touch too gleefully- “Only pay phone’s out front.”

Eddie scoffs- figures, they’d try to get rid of him- but he can’t blame them too much, seeing as Jeff is right. 

Damn Murphy and his damn law. Eddie scoops up the change with an exaggerated flourish and stomps out, icy wind swallowing all the noise of the bar the second his boots hit snow. 

He follows the gravel trail that leads to the glass phone booth, the whole structure at a poorly-crafted slant that makes the door stick; Eddie shoves his shoulder against the iced-over seam four fucking times before it cracks and gives. 

Shoulder smarting, Eddie closes himself inside the booth, and with movements made clumsy by mittens and cold, loads the quarters and dials home. 

The trailer landline’s dial tone drones. With each ring, Eddie thunks a mittened hand against his forehead and watches the frost of his breath suspended in the air. 

You don’t answer. 

His shoulder stings, and he rubs at it, petulant, quarters clinking back down into the tray. He reloads them, grizzling all the while, and punches in Jonathan’s number, banking on the fact that you might be at your aunt’s place for Christmas Eve festivities.

No luck there, either. Eddie’s close to using the returned quarters as eye covers and laying down in the snow, letting hypothermia guide him to the afterlife- when suddenly, inexplicably, the phone on the hook rings.

The first time, Eddie thinks he imagined it. The second time, it jolts him into action, hardly daring to hope as he snatches the receiver up and speaks, breathless- “Hello?”

“Eddie!”

He doesn’t get caught up in the logistics, the why and hows just yet. Upon hearing your voice on the line, full and sweet after so many droning tones, Eddie slumps with relief against the booth’s angled window pane. 

“Sweetheart. Hi. Holy shit, are you a sound for sore ears. God, I fucking miss you.” Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose between clothed fingers, biting back tears of joy when your giggles like tinkling bells surround him.

“I miss you too. So much. Gareth called earlier to give me this number, said you’ve been a pest and might benefit from hearing my voice,” you tease, sounding like you’ve cupped the phone around your mouth to hide your words from others.

Eddie is basking in it, the simple act of you speaking doing wonders for his whole system, like a mug of cocoa for the soul. He makes a mental note to do something nice for Gareth, at a later date when he’s not sick of looking at his bandmates. 

“Bet he did,” Eddie concedes. “It’s been a total nightmare shitshow from hell over here, babe. I’m barely holding it together without my handler.”

“Poor thing.” You’re sympathetic but there’s still a playful edge to your voice when you ask, “Don’t you know it’s almost Christmas? Being a Scrooge only gets you so far.”

“Noted.” Normally, Eddie would be better at matching your energy, but he feels like all the wit got sucked out of him somewhere between here and the bar. “Keep talkin’. The tips of my ears aren’t quite warm yet. Wearing anything slutty on this holiday eve?”

You laugh, again (a balm, a blanket, et al cheesy romantic idioms), and Eddie can practically hear the eye roll this time- “Oh yeah, dressed real sexy for Aunt Joyce’s family supper. Light wash Levi’s and everything.”

Eddie makes various dramatic horny noises and you snicker. In the following lull, the noise from the party in Hawkins plays muted in the background. Glasses clinking, indistinct chatter from other people he loves, puffs of your breath quiet in comparison.

“Sounds noisy,” he says, and when you sigh, there’s a weary undertone that plucks a chord in Eddie’s heart.

“Yeah. It is. Gonna come rescue me? My knight in shining armor?”

“Jesus christ,” Eddie groans, hard plastic receiver pressing into his temple. “You know I would in a heartbeat, princess. Gareth told you all the flights are fucked?”

“Yeah. Guess we’re just shit outta luck, this year.”

“Two more weeks,” Eddie says, clawing at the only hopeful thread he’s got left. “Two more weeks of this horseshit and January third, baby, my ass is on a plane to you. If it kills me. Seriously.”

“It’s not gonna kill you.” Buttery soft and gentler than he thinks he deserves, you say, “However much you’re missin’ me, I’m feeling the same. I know it sucks to be apart right now, but I’m so proud of you. And the band. But mostly you. I’m probably too partial.”

Eddie grins and lets the praise wash over him, tucks it away for a dreary day (which’ll be tomorrow, at this rate). “Good thing somebody is. Keeps me sane in this godforsaken wasteland.”

He’s being dramatic and you both know it- but since Eddie’s much worse off in terms of post-call comfort, you let it slide. After drawn out, gushy goodbyes and promises to call sometime tomorrow, Eddie treks back reluctantly into the heat of the bar.

In the time it took to make the call, the place had filled out- mostly farmers and locals eager to celebrate the upcoming holiday with whiskey and gossip; Eddie squeezes through a sea of knit scarves and bobbled hats to get back to the table. 

Upon their Fearless Leader’s return, Jeff’s the only one with balls enough to look Eddie in the eye when he says, “There’s a fan of yours at the corner booth who wants a signature.”

“Gotta be shittin’ me.” Not yet seated, Eddie leans into his fists on the table, but he’s quick to swallow his irritation, even as he mutters expletives under his breath. Bona fide fans of the band are still rare enough to be exciting, and he really, really doesn’t want to be an asshole to anyone, especially not a fan, not on Christmas.

Plus, Eddie’s feeling softer, more charitable, since he got to speak with you. Unfortunately for his not-yet-curated rockstar persona, you make him a better person. Even from across the country.

To show his displeasure with the general situation, Eddie swipes a tall-necked beer from Gareth’s collection and downs a quarter of it on his way across the bar. There’s a line of booths along the back wall, partially hidden by the centralized bar; strings of Christmas lights and tinsel twinkle from the rafters along the path Eddie takes, while an old stereo system plays local holiday FM. 

Eddie winds his way between tables and the bustling bar, trying to come up with a game plan to make this interaction as friendly and speedy as possible- but when he rounds the corner and sees the booth, he freezes.

There you are. Sitting in a bar booth in the middle of Nowhere, Idaho, wearing your downy winter jacket and a smile bright as a homing beacon.

It’s like his brain is on a ten second delay, everything between his ears a high pitched ring as he takes you in while anything that isn’t you melts away into insignificance. 

“Hi,” you say, beaming, rising out of the booth, brimming with excitement.

Eddie almost trips over his own boot to close the distance, pulling you into his arms, wrapping them tight around your shoulders. He buries his face into the side of your neck, breathing deep, memorizing for the next time you’re not this close.

“What the fuck,” he murmurs, hoarse against your hair, and he feels the giddy laughter tremble through your whole frame. 

You’re clinging to him, too, a big handful of his flannel in your left hand, the outline of his skull in the other, thumb sweeping under all those curls, soothing. “Hi, baby. Hi. Couldn’t stand being away from you any longer.”

Eddie pulls away to kiss your cheek, then mirrors the action, then behind your ear and down down until you’re giggling, pushing at his forehead in protest- “Don’t you wanna know how I’m here?”

“Santa,” Eddie says, confident, squeezing your hips. “Or God. Who I will totally believe in and pledge my soul to for bringing you here.”

“I don’t think you can pledge something that’s already mine.” You punctuate this with a poke to his ribs, then a pull of his hand, and Eddie follows you into the booth, sitting close enough to keep a hand tracking a soft path over your thigh. 

It was Gareth’s idea, apparently- he called home a few days ago, confirmed that you were equally eager to pull off the surprise. The original plan was to meet at the band’s next tour stop, but when the Christmas Day gig got cancelled and a blizzard rolled in, your plans went hinky.

“It was Uncle Wayne, in the end.” You kiss the back of Eddie’s knuckles, and he feels a tender part of his heart thump in response. “He covered the extra cost of a last-minute ticket, figured out the bus route to this place for me, too. Said to tell you Merry Christmas.”

Eddie could cry from the wave of gratefulness that swells in his chest, shaking his head in disbelief. There’s a shimmering line of tears in your own eyes, and he can’t have that, so in lieu of words he leans in and kisses you.

Your lips slot perfect and familiar against his own, tasting the sweetness from an earlier candy cane. Eddie’s tongue traces the contours of the inside of your mouth, probably a bit too familiar for a public setting but fuck it, it’s Christmas and no one’s watching.

The two of you are mostly sequestered in the corner of the big room, the added bulk to Eddie’s frame from his jacket doing a perfect job of shielding you from view, happily backed against the wall with one leg draped over his thigh.

When Eddie finally pulls back, just enough to see you, your hand slips under the hem of his shirt, fingers warming against his ribs. There’s an inked sparrow you find by memory, one of your favorite places to touch and kiss.

Your thumb runs over the familiar spot, the signals of his skin decipherable to you alone. 

Eddie fills his lungs with air and tries to quell the stiff wave of arousal, and in the same breath, winces, remembering- “Well, sweet thing, I’d invite you back to my place but I’m sharing a one-room with a whole pack of miscreants.”

Eddie’s about to suggest raiding the motel’s blanket stock and sleeping in the van, just the two of you, when something like guilt pinches at your features. “Um. Yeah. About that. I may have bullied Gareth into getting me your manager’s number, and I also may have called him from the airport and chewed him out a bit.”

When Eddie’s brows shoot up in shock, delight, you wince, cutting him off before a word can get in edgewise- “It’s not right that he left you all stranded out here, on fucking Christmas, no less- you’re the ones funding that asshole’s cozy little vacation.” 

With the strength of your conviction, you tilt your chin up, eyes glittering and defiant- “I told him if he wasn’t gonna take care of you boys, I’d take care of him. Get right on a flight just to kick his ass.”

The hand still at Eddie’s ribs flexes with residual anger, your nails digging a quick flash of welcome pain that helps tether him to the present, mind almost completely fogged over with lust at the thought of you bitching out his piece of shit manager. 

“So…” Eddie starts, clears his throat, tries to tug at his pant leg subtly but catches the moment that sharp spark of your hostility melts into a smirk; you drum your fingers against him with a tilted head as he finds his voice- “So he’s gonna, what, promise to be less of an asshole in the new year, is that the deal?”

“Yeah. That and a couple of hotel rooms magically opened up for my favorite rockstar. Four of ‘em, enough for the boys to each have their own- if you don’t mind sharing with me, that is.”

Eddie wants to swallow the coy tilt of your mouth but settles for kissing you again, veins zipping with glee and good cheer; he pulls you in impossibly closer, tugging by the lapels of your coat, nose to nose while you giggle, smothering his affections- “Holy shit. Babe, you’re the rockstar. Replace me with a cardboard cutout and I don’t think anyone would know the difference. What in the fuck are we still doing here?”

Eddie moves to pull you both from the booth, overzealous in his excitement; you shift to keep your weight on the bench, Eddie plopping back down with a little oof while you chastise, “Hold on, I have to give the boys their room keys and I wanna wish them a merry Christmas! Plus, you should probably give yourself a second to- uh- settle down.”

You’re doing a poor job of concealing your amusement and Eddie groans, arms wrapping around his middle and hunching forward, head hitting the table with a dull thunk. “Fuck’s sake. I’m a short walk away from getting you alone in a warm room with a real bed and you’re telling me not to pop a stiffy at the thought? I’m but a mere mortal, have some compassion, jesus christ.”

“Nope, just me.” An escaped lock of dark hair gets caught between your fingertips, then tucked behind his ear. When you lean in to kiss the exposed spot shivers erupt down Eddie’s spine, even more when you whisper, “Can call me whatever you want once you get me in that room, though.”

After a few more minutes in which Eddie attempts to recall every unsexy thing that has ever happened in the span of his life, you’re both presentable enough to weave hand in hand back to Corroded’s table. 

There’s a flurry of exclamations and hugs, well wishes and present-distribution (because of course you packed everyone’s gifts, seeing as you’re some sort of angel or perhaps a fae being from Valinor, Eddie hasn’t decided yet). 

Eddie buys another round of drinks for the troupe, and tousles Gareth’s hair while the other two are distracted with Jake’s new Lego set. “Merry Christmas, kid. I owe you one.”

Gareth’s cheeks are rosy from the heater and the alcohol as he gives a nod of acknowledgement; they clink beers, and all is forgiven.

Once everyone is set up with the hotel address and their individual room keys, Eddie plucks at your elbow, patience stretching thin until the two of you are finally, finally borne out into the cold on a wave of goodbyes.

The snow is blindingly white, even in the low light of a winter’s eve; Eddie blinks, the image of your face tipped up to the sky burned into the black of his eyelids.

A perfectly-formed snowflake lands on the high point of your cheek, dissolving into your skin. Eddie kisses the spot and winds an arm around your low back, pleased when you bundle into his side.

“Our chariot awaits,” he declares, sweeping a grand arm at the endless snow and empty street, which makes you laugh again.

“Come on.” Your eye roll is fond as you pull Eddie’s steps in line with yours, setting off in the direction of a hot bath and silk sheets. “Let’s see if we can’t find us a little Christmas cheer.”

Eddie thinks he might be starting to like Idaho.

[buck-star]

OOO OOO OOO! Pick me pick me!! 😂 Drabble of?? Get this! Logan and reader opening gifts from each other and she gets like a necklace with an L on it right? And he thinks it’s cringe bc he didn’t know what else to get her and she just basically throws herself at him with a hug 🤗 you don’t have to :)) I still love u ❤️

Thank you for the request. It’s such a cute idea and I hope you like it. Love you too, and hope you love Logan now even more.🙂‍↕️❤️

Masterlist | Holiday game

“It might be…” Logan stops himself when he watches you unwrap the little box in your hands. He inhales deeply, his hands sweaty as he runs them through his hair. His green eyes studying every one of your movements. “If you don’t like it, we can get you something else.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, your eyes moving up to meet Logan’s. The soft smile on your lips makes his heart beat faster, and for a moment he forgets everything around the two of you.

“Whatever it is, what you got me, I will love it,” you say, putting the wrapping paper away. In your hands you hold a small, blue box. You look down at it, reading the words that are printed on the top of it. ‘Merry Christmas, bub.’

“How do you know?” Logan asks, shaking his head slightly. When he first saw the present and bought it, he was sure it was the most beautiful and precious thing he could give you. But the more he thought about it, he wasn’t sure if it was that good or if you would feel like he wants to own you — what he definitely doesn’t want to.

“Because it’s from you. You thought about something to give me that’s more important than anything else. And you never got me anything that I didn’t like before, so I don’t think this will be any different." You assure him, opening the small box. Your jaw drops immediately, and your eyes widen when you see the necklace placed perfectly in there.

It’s not just any necklace; it’s a golden one with a ‘L’ dangling down.

Logan shifts, swallowing thickly. Do you like it? Do you hate it? He isn’t sure, and that makes him squirm even more; maybe he should have bought you an oversized hoodie and sprayed some of his perfume on it.

“I’m sorry, I should have thought better than giving you something that could show ownership… I didn’t mean to make it look like th—“ Logan whispers under his breath, ready to apologize further for the stupid gift he got you. Though it isn’t as bad as he thinks, it’s not even bad at all.

“This is—“ you blink away the tears that burn in your eyes. A smile creeping onto your lips as you look up at your boyfriend. “It’s the most beautiful and personal gift you could possibly give me.”

Logan frowns until you throw yourself into his lap and giggle. Only then he notices that this is the perfect present. A necklace with his letter on it, no ownership, just the love he feels shown in another way than saying it out loud or affection. Now, it’s shown in a way so everyone knows that you’re his in the most beautiful way possible.

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @iris-xoxo-juhu @fckedupandbeautiful @fandomxo00 @blackhawkfanatic (add yourself.)

[flwrkid14]

Hi! Can we get some more Jason Todd: Dad Mode Activated? 🥺👉👈 maybe about how Jason helps Tim with his crushes or maybe like how to cope with some mental health struggles/ Tim comparing how different Jason lectures him to Bruce’s lectures?

Hi!! Thank you so much for the ask! <3 These are such great concepts, and I’d have so much fun exploring them! While I’m not sure I’ll make a full post for this, I’d love to share my thoughts on how these ideas could play out!

For Jason helping Tim with crushes, I feel like he’d totally be that dad—the one who embarrasses you in front of your crush on purpose. Tim, of course, doesn’t tell Jason about his crushes for this exact reason, but Jason is way too observant not to figure it out anyway. Imagine them out together (because Jason has once again dragged Tim away from his work to make him take a break), and Jason spots Tim’s current crush walking down the street. He’d nudge Tim with that smug, teasing grin of his, going, “Timmy! Look, Timbo! It’s Bernard! Isn’t he a good friend of yours? What’s he doing out here? Let’s go say hi!” And then, before Tim can protest, Jason’s already dragging him over, while Tim is blushing furiously and muttering curses under his breath. Jason’s embarrassing as hell, but... it’s also endearing. And for Tim, who didn’t grow up with that kind of playful, teasing love, it felt oddly nice... even if his dad was now enthusiastically talking about his cuddling habits when sleeping (screw him for being touch starved) to a very confused Bernard.

As for coping with mental health, Jason would be such a huge advocate. Realizing that Tim is his kid now—and that he’s essentially a dad—would really push Jason to work on his own mental health. He’d know he can’t preach good habits to Tim if he’s not setting a good example himself (because independent Tim Drake—who grew up without much supervision—definitely needs someone to lead by example. He needs proof that taking advice from someone else is worth it, especially when his own methods have always worked just fine for him).

So Jason starts his own mental health journey, taking active steps to improve himself, and Tim notices. And it hits him hard, because none of his parental figures before—Bruce or Jack—ever did that. They never cared about their own well-being for his sake, to be better parents to him. Seeing Jason make that effort makes Tim feel so incredibly loved and valued.

Jason wouldn’t just lecture Tim or bark orders at him; he’d actively help him build better habits. He’d set up mandatory family dinners once a week to encourage better eating patterns and help Tim develop routines that supported a healthier sleep schedule, tailored to his needs, once they realized the standard eight hours a night just wasn’t realistic for him.

It’s these little changes that make Tim realize just how different Jason is from Bruce.

Jason doesn’t demand things from Tim that he doesn’t practice himself. He wouldn’t tell Tim to stop working late if he wasn’t also putting his own work aside and calling it a night. If he’s telling Tim to eat better, he’s leading by example—packing ready-to-go meals for both of them when there’s no time to cook. Jason shows Tim why these changes are worth it, through actions and positive outcomes.

Bruce, on the other hand, never did that. Whatever Bruce told Tim to do was just an expectation. He’d demand Tim do better or lecture him without ever showing how or why it mattered. If Bruce criticized Tim’s performance in the field but was himself guilty of being distracted—like running off mid-patrol for a rendezvous with catwoman—Tim just nodded along and tuned him out. Bruce’s hypocrisy made it impossible for Tim to take him seriously.

But Jason? Jason shows Tim why he should listen, fixing his own behavior and performance first before ever asking the same of Tim. And that difference speaks volumes. For Tim, who’s used to parental figures endless demands with no understanding behind them, Jason’s approach feels like a breath of fresh air—and the kind of support he never knew he needed.

hopefully that lived up to your expectations! <3

[cayleeuhithinknott]

❛ TEASE ❜

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉…chris teaches you a lesson for teasing him all day.

based on this

cw: SMUT, unprotected p in v, use of pet names, degrading, oral (m receiving), not proofread LMAO, choking, spanking, teasing, lowk cringe

THE PHOTOS LINKED ARE JUST FOR BETTER UNDERSTANDING! THEY DO NOT REPRESENT YOU AS THE READER! :)

all day.

it’d been all day that you’d been torturing poor chris. the texts, photos…all of it. and you knew exactly what you were doing. you loved knowing you were getting him all hot and bothered while he was out doing important things. you got a rush of confidence out of it.

it all started at around 11 this morning. you’d sent him a text, along with an image. last night, you two had fucked, and of course he left his signature bruises on your neck and collarbone. so, why not tease him with a photo of that?

you

miss u. a lot.

attachment: 1 image

u marked me up so good last night baby

chris💗

i miss you too angel

i should be home around 5

definitely wasn’t the reaction you’d expected. he was too…chill. you’d figured you go ahead and bump it up a notch. so, then, at around 1:30, you got into position on your bed, only wearing a shirt and underwear, and snapped a photo before sending another daunting message. and you were bold with it.

you

wish u were here to fuck me til im crying :(

attachment: 1 image

chris💗

baby stop.

i’m about to go into a meeting and i’m fucking bricked. watch yourself. im serious. drop the lil teasing act or im gonna fuck it out of you

finally, he was showing something of a reaction. and you meant every word. so finally, at around 4:30, when he was soon to be home, you set up for the final message. you put on chris’ favorite red set and sat on the couch in front of the mirror, snapping another photo. surely, this’d get him going.

you

i’m waiting for u baby

attachment: 1 image

too bad ur all talk :(

chris💗

you say that.

i’ll be home in 5.

oh shit. okay, now, you were definitely feeling a little nervous. usually, teasing him like that got you a little confidence boost. but now? now was different. like you were waiting for your impending doom. but…maybe there was a little confidence left in you.

you heard the door slam and giggled to yourself, knowing you had gotten under his skin. sitting on the couch, you pretended to be engrossed in something on your phone, your heart racing with anticipation. chris' heavy footsteps approached, and you could feel his anger radiating from him. he stood before you, his frame blocking your view of anything else.

“you’ve been a naughty girl today, haven't you?" he growled, his voice deep and menacing.

you looked up at him, feigning innocence, but the mischievous glint in your eyes gave you away. "maybe a little," you replied, biting your lip. yeah, some of that confidence was still lingering.

but it was quickly lost when, with lightning speed, chris grabbed your wrist and pulled you up from the couch. you let out a startled gasp as he roughly spun you around, pressing your body against the armrest. the sudden dominance took your breath away, and you felt a rush of excitement mixed with fear.

"you think you can tease me all day and get away with it?" he whispered harshly into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "you’ve been a very bad girl, hm? and bad girls get punished, don’t they?”

before you could respond, chris’ hand firmly gripped your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you aware of his strength. your eyes widened, and you struggled to breathe, but the sensation of his rough fingers against your skin sent a surge of pleasure through your body.

you whimpered softly, torn between fear and arousal. just the way the both of you liked.

“please...chris..." you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse.

“oh, you want me to stop?" he mocked, tightening his grip slightly. "you’ve been begging for this all day, haven't you? teasing me, making me hard as a rock, and then leaving me hanging."

you nodded, unable to speak, as his other hand reached down and grabbed your ass, squeezing it possessively. he ground his bulging erection against your ass, making his intentions clear.

"you like it when i get mean, don't you, you little slut?" he hissed, his lips brushing against your ear.

you whimpered again, unable to deny the truth. chris knew exactly how to push your buttons, and your body betrayed your submissive nature. he released your throat, leaving you gasping for air, and forcefully ripped off the bottom half of your lacy red set, exposing your bare ass.

“bend over the couch," he commanded, his voice filled with authority.

trembling, you obeyed, resting your upper body on the soft cushions. chris wasted no time, adjusting your hips and revealing your wet pussy, glistening with anticipation. he admired his work, smirking at the sight of your arousal.

"fucking soaked…pathetic." he teased, running his fingers along your slit.

you whimpered in response, your face flushing with embarrassment. chris’ fingers probed your entrance, teasing you, but not entering. he wanted to drive you wild with need.

“please, chris," you begged, your voice trembling. "i need you inside me."

"not yet," he growled, slapping your ass with an open palm, leaving a stinging sensation. "you’ve been a little fuckin’ tease, and y’need to be taught a lesson.”

chris delivered another sharp smack, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. he continued to spank you, each strike leaving a warm glow on your ass.

you squirmed, trying to escape the stinging pain, but chris held you firmly in place. “you like that, don't you, you dirty girl?" he taunted, his voice thick with desire. "you love it when i mark your pretty ass."

you could barely form words, your mind clouded with lust and shame. chris’ hand reached between your legs, his fingers replacing the sting of his palm with a different kind of heat. he rubbed your clit, making you moan and squirm.

"please, let me cum," you begged, your voice desperate. you were embarrassed as shit. on the brink of an orgasm from simply his words, spanking you, and him measly rubbing your clit? if that doesn’t scream to him what he does to you, then you don’t know what will.

“not yet," he repeated. "i haven't even started fucking you yet. and when I do, i’m gonna keep goin’ until you’re beggin’ even more. that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? after fuckin’ teasing me all day?"

the explicit words sent a jolt of excitement through your body. chris fingers worked their magic, bringing you to the brink of orgasm, only to pull away at the last moment. you whined in frustration, craving release.

"please, chris, i-i can't take it anymore," you pleaded, your voice breaking.

"that’s what you get for teasing me," he said, his voice softening slightly. "but i’m not done with you yet. i want you to remember this lesson every time you feel me inside you."

chris positioned himself behind you, his hard length pressing against your entrance.

you could feel his cock, throbbing with desire, as he slowly pushed into you, filling you inch by inch. you whinily moaned, your body welcoming the invasion, as he began to thrust, his movements slow and deliberate.

"y’feel so fucking good," he grunted, his voice strained. "y’know i’m gonna make you wait, baby. I want you to beg for it. you—shit—fuckin’ humiliated me while i was in a meeting—makin’ me rock fuckin’ hard. so i think it’s your turn to be embarrassed, don’t you?”

chris’ words sent a shiver through you, and you knew he was going to take his time, pushing your limits. the pleasure was almost unbearable, and you struggled to hold back your orgasm, knowing he wanted to control your release.

"oh fuck," you cried out, your body on fire, every nerve alight with pleasure.

chris leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, his breath hot on your neck. "you like it like this, don't you?" he grunted between thrusts. "fuck—you like bein’ embarrassed like the whore you are?”

you could only nod, your words lost in the moans and cries of pleasure as he pounded into you, his pace relentless. his hands gripped your hips tightly, leaving marks on your skin, but you didn't care. the pain only added to the intensity of the pleasure.

“you’re mine," he growled, his voice raw. “my little—mmh—slut.”

"please, chris, let me cum," you begged, your voice desperate.

he reached around, his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing it in firm circles. "cum for me, baby," he ordered, his voice harsh.

your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body shaking as you cried out, your pussy clenching around his cock. chris grunted, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he too approached his climax.

“that’s it, that’s m’girl, take it all," he grunted, his hips slamming into you one final time as he emptied himself deep inside you.

as your breathing slowed, chris withdrew, leaving you feeling empty and satisfied all at once. you turned to face him, your eyes meeting his, both of you panting, the air thick with the scent of sex.

"that," he said, his voice hoarse, "is what happens when you tease me, baby. but i think you enjoyed it, didn't you?"

you smiled, your cheeks flushed, knowing full well that you had.

maybe now you had your plans for tomorrow all sorted out for while chris was out working.

a/n: hello hellooo! this kinda sucked IDK WHY MY WRITING IS SO LIKE CRINGY but oh well! hope you enjoyed anyway

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @claireezz10 @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

•Making Amends

MelJay x reader

Synopsis: You and Jayce just can’t seem to get along and Mel can’t have that.

CW- Jayce&Reader and Mel’s lovers, lowk cringe, alcohol, Mostly Jayce but does have Mel :), hella ooc Jayce, voyeur Mel, a small lil strip scene, sex, multiple positions, edging, masterbation, size kink? (Idk) mentioned like once, feels rushed to me but it was getting to long 😭

A/N- started ts last month and I know this gonna flop 😭

Jayce walked through the tall golden doors that lead to Mel’s room. He held a small prototype he and Viktor had been working on for a while and he wanted to be the first to show it to her. But to his surprise when he walks in there you are in front of Mel sitting pretty on her piano and even more Mel already had the prototype praising you for bringing it to her.

“Well hello Jayce,” Mel gets up patting your thigh before she moves to Jayce giving him a small peck on the cheek. “She was just showing me something you and Viktor have been working on.” She quirks a brow and smirks as she sees you watching them. “Yes, how did you get this?” Jayce asked you, eyeing you up and down as you smiled leaning back giving him a better view of your dress that showed more of your body than cover. “I have my ways.” He should have known Viktor has always had a soft spot for you. He sniffs as he shoves his prototype in his back pocket. “Of course.” He scoffs just before you can bite back at him Mel raises a hand silencing both of you. She walked to the steps that led to her bedroom sitting on them before addressing you two.

“Why is it you two must always bicker when I’m around or even when I’m not.”

Jayce and you both got choked up, glancing at each other before looking back at Mel. “Is it that you two don't like each other? Because we can’t have that”

Jayce raises his eyebrows in surprise, getting ready to answer before you just had to come in and save the day. “Oh no my lady,” you crouch to the ground, grabbing her hand gently. “Don’t you strain yourself with worry, me and Jayce just have a few disagreements he can’t seem to work on.” You clenched your words at the last bit, making Mel wonder. Jayce was infuriated, “You’re just going to act like you don’t start half of the arguments that come about.” Jayce began hounding in on you as you; however you glared at him envy was all that was found in your eyes and maybe a little something else. “How you always try to one up me in front of Mel—“

“That’s quite enough.” Mel put a pause on the explosive argument ahead.

Mel was quite shocked she didn’t even realize the tension that grew between her and her lovers as she was too busy being well, loved.

But when she looked up at both of you it was quite a shock, both of you looked at her in a way she never realized as if she were the sun and moon. And then she realized all those times Jayce presented something before you just for you to present something ten times greater; and so on and so on. Then it clicked that you two were in a competition; for her approval. Her cheeks heated up, she had never felt so wanted in her entire life, her body felt tingling seeing you two stand up in front of her waiting at her beck and call, seeming to do anything she says. “I think I found the best way to solve these disagreements you two have.”

╰─────╯

“You want us to do what?” Jayce was surprised at Mel’s request. “I want you two to make love in front of me. It’s the only thing that will settle this tension. For you to feel each other so intimately it would be out of this world. And also I just want to watch.” She was listing all the facts on why you and Jayce should have sex she looked over to you, quiet as a mouse.

She could practically feel the warmth your body gives off, how your thighs clench whenever she even mentions Jayce fucking you. It seems Jayce hadn’t noticed though, oblivious as always. “What do you think, y/n.” Mel cuts Jayces insistent questions off and all the attention goes to you. Your throat was so dry you didn’t even know if you could speak the syllables all caught up in your mouth, your tongue felt like jelly and an unwelcome heat burned between your thighs.

“Would it make you happy?” Out of everything that has happened today that was what shocked Jayce the most. Mel didn’t even answer you, only standing up and wasting up the steps waiting at the top for her two lovers.

╰─────╯

She held both of your hands as she led you through the candle lit room, following her like Eurydice followed Orpheus but she did not look back leaving her two lovers in an anxious condition. Jayce looked over towards you and saw a woman he’d never seen before. You looked so malleable, so obedient. He looked you up and down wetting his bottom lip before looking in front of him, at Mel.

You had made it to her room. You’d both been in it before just not with each other. You were nervous, stressed and worse of all horny.

You couldn’t believe you were going to let Jayce motherfucking Talis fuck you, the man of progress was about to fuck you. You began to breathe heavily, you concealed your nerves before looking at the other two who sat on a small white couch, Jayce sat up like a prude, legs together back straight, hands in his lap. It would have been funny if it weren’t for the predicament.

Mel handed the male a glass of wine but none for you. You puff at that, putting your arms across your chest. “Y/n doesn’t know how not to be a brat, but” Mel begins glancing at Jayce before looking at you before you could say anything she continues, “She makes up for it, in other ways.” Any words or retaliation you had dissipated as soon as those words left Mel’s mouth.

“Like how she looks when she undresses, Y/N give us a demonstration.” It wasn't you to look at her with wide eyes, it was Jayce. She took another sip looking down at Jayce’s untouched glass. “Drink up Jayce you're gonna need it with this one. She really has no sense of respect.” She laughs seeing you slip the all too tight dress off of your body that Jayce never did appreciate. Your breasts were shown first, nipples already hardened from the cold air and Jayce felt like he’d been sent to heaven, had you always had those?

“Doesn’t she look so pretty?” Mel asked, of course you did, you were more than pretty but saying that would give you an even bigger head so Jayce just sat back, spreading his legs with the top of his button shirt undid he took a sip of his wine only lifting the side of his mouth as his answer. Mel couldn’t help but smile at the little game you had still happened moments before you have intercourse. To connect in such an intimate manner well Mel just couldn’t wait.

You slide it down all the way showing off your bare skin, no underwear. Jayce’s grip got impossibly tight on the glass; he was surprised it didn’t break before he gulped all of its contents. You would wait as long as Mel wanted but you were starting to get bored. “So are we getting started this century. Or does the man of progress need time to y’know progress.” You pointed down before laughing. Mel couldn’t keep a little giggle and Jayce just smiles before getting up leaving his glass on the floor. “You’re right Mel, she really doesn’t have any respect.” Jayce laughed grabbing you by the side of your neck pulling you closer his eyebrows creased upward with a smile, “She’ll get some though.”

╰─────╯

Jayce fucked you hard, your eyes rolled to the back of your head in annoyance and pleasure, he bullied your sweet spot bruising it with such force. A sheer gleam of sweat shines on your skin in the humid room. He squeezes your waist as he drags you back, your smooth skin recoiling with every thrust he delivers. Jayce flicks his tongue, his abs flexing as he holds your back down making your arch higher with one hand and pushing your head down with the other.

Mel watched from across the room a devious smirk on her face as she watched the mean strokes Jayce gives you. How your bodies mold together as he fucks you, your hips rolling back every so often; you can peak up through the mattress looking up through wet lashes at the watching woman. She couldn’t lie and say this is the wettest she’s ever been her two lovers fucking as she gawks at them in the most intimate ways.

You reach out for Mel, crying out for her. “Mel, M–Mel,” you squeak with every thrust delivered to your pussy. The Medarda looked in wonder as you cried out for her whimpering and whining like a puppy that had just been kicked, how that made Jayce go even faster as if he was punishing you for even speaking. She’d never seen this version of either of you. Jayce always touched her as if she were delicate, soft just how she liked it with him. And you well you were like a hound dog when you got her in bed. Never had she seen you in such a mess, palming the bedsheets, clenching your jaws to keep the screams of ecstasy at bay in the back of your throat. Tears drenched your face, lips quivering as you still cried out for her. Your cries and whines were only drowned out by Jayce’s degrading words. “Always acting like a fucking bitch, your my bitch now aren’t you?”

She gets up from her seat setting her wine glass down the glass clicking against the table just as her heels clink against the floor as she drags her feet to be in front of you. She lifts your face, cradling your cheeks, wiping your drenched cheeks. “Why are you crying for me dear?” She asked in faux concern Jayce fucking you with so much force you swished back and forth. “I’m not the one fucking you.” She said watching you slip into a chaotic storm of ecstasy. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, you couldn’t hold the screams in anymore as desperate pleas for him to stop, go, harder, slower. You didn’t even know what you wanted.

Jayce slowed squishing you into the mattress with his body mass, calloused hands finding their way between your legs immediately latching to the little bud. Your legs buckle trying to move your hips but Jayce is too big. He could squish you to death and you both knew it which was what made it so much more hot. His breath fanned the back of your neck, worked up sweat dripped from both of your sticky skin stuck together as he played with your cunt. “Make up your mind, y/n” he spoke in a harsh tone as if he was scolding you. It made your pussy flex.

He stopped playing with you for a second, his pupils dilated, and got impossibly hard. You liked being told what to do, you like him telling you what to do. Getting up you gasped in full gasps of air just for them to be knocked out by Jayce’s full force thrust. You cried out in pleasure looking up at Mel who had watched the whole thing face flustered and legs intertwined. You smile as Jayce pulls you up on his cock, changing the angle of his cock in you it was so heavenly. He held you in place with his arm across your throat making sure you could breath before fucking you without remorse.

“Don’t cum until he tells you.” Mel whispers trying not to lose composure. You listen to her trying to hold the crashing waves of pleasure back as hard as you can. But it’s not easy with Jayce fucking you harder than anyone has every, and you love it. You looked over at Mel. She was disheveled as if she needed just a little push over the edge. You hold onto Jayce’s forearm as he bounces you on his cock his tip hitting your cervix every single time. “Mel,” you whined, the woman’s eyes caught yours full of lust, “Please touch yourself for us.” You say grabbing Jayce’s hand from your hip. “Please, Mel.” Jayce spoke softly looking through puppy dog eyes as if he wasn’t fucking you no mercy.

Mel couldn’t take it anymore she grabbed her dress , shoving it up just enough for her to touch her bare cunny. Her legs spread wide when she touched herself circling her clit in the same manner Jayce did yours. Simultaneously you both arch your back when she slips her fingers in pumping them in and out in and out just as Jayce fucks you. Taking the arms from around your knock Jayce grabs both of your hands pulling you closer to him. “Cum with her.” He whispers and you only nod fucking your hips back against his.

Mel quickened her movement. She was close you could tell by the way her legs contorted and she squirmed. You couldn’t hold it in much longer, you didn’t just want her to cum you needed her to. “Please Mel, please cum.” You spoke in a small voice. You sounded so desperate, so needy, she couldn’t help herself as she came around her fingers white cream surrounded her fingers as she rode her high out on her fingers drenching them in her essence. As soon as Mel came it was like a dam broke within you.

It all came crashing down on you like acid rain your skin burned when you came, wet hot liquid squirting out of you wetting yours and Jayce’s thighs. Jayce came with you as your pussy walls contracted against him, milking him for all his worth. He couldn’t keep the whimpers he held back during sex in while he came and it made you feel something you couldn’t expect.

Jayce fell on his back shocked at what had just transversed. “He didn’t think I would only last one round did he?” You asked Mel who only giggled caressing your cheeks. “Oh I don’t think he knows what he’s gotten himself into.” Mel says as she begins to strip down to her undergarments; her house colors. Jayce only now looks up as he watches you both crawl towards him like lions hunting their prey.

“Gods help me.”

[boneblushed]

Is it enough?

synopsis All these people think love’s for show, but Rafe would die for you in secret.

a/n a late lil Christmas blurb for all the pre-Euro Trip Rafe lovers out there (aka me). Hope everyone enjoying the holidays !! 💗

You prefer the Outer Banks over Christmas break.

It’s when the salt air quiets and the tourons dissipate, the pavements pleasantly bare with cold asphalt unblemished. You’re certain to recognise everyone you see in December; you don’t have to perform when you’re out and about, the details of your personality are already firmly embedded. You prefer this, like to smile at that member of your mother’s book club, or that convenience store owner that’s watched you gain inches over the years.

You like recognising the people you make eye contact with. This is easier to do during the winter months, when touron tarnish isn’t diluting the street strollers and beach crowds.

Or so you think.

You’re celebrating the start of Christmas break at the Shake Shack with Topper and Kelce, when this pretty girl you don’t recognise walks in with Rafe and his younger sister.

You use the split second before he spots you to take inventory of his figure. He’s without that Kildare Island cap he likes to wear—always backwards; you’re chagrined that even you remember this little detail—his dirty-blonde locks overgrown and a little damp. He’s just showered, or something. Maybe gone for a swim. A fleeting image of Rafe Cameron’s chiseled torso enters your brain.

You blink. The heat in your cheeks makes you frown on instinct.

Topper must spot him at the same time you do, because he straightens and shouts, “Oi! Cameron!”

Rafe turns toward your table, his blue eyes brightening as he takes the three of you in. Behind him, his younger sister Sarah smiles politely. You watch her lean close to the mystery girl beside her, whisper something inconspicuous that makes her eyes pull right toward you. You smile back, though it’s more grimace than anything particularly deferential.

And then you fix Topper with a pointed glare, because your poor skin has suffered enough warmth for the day. “Topper,” you hiss, “why would you do that?”

“Uh,” Topper balks, looking to Kelce for help. (He provides none. He’s far too busy staring at the girl on Sarah’s left.) “Because he’s our friend?”

“Your friend,” you mutter irritably. You’re still feeling the after effects of shirtless Rafe in your head.

“No way!” Rafe exclaims then; you refuse to look up at him as he walks over, but the amusement in his voice is recognisable as ever. “How’re you guys going?”

He says ‘you guys’, but he only means you really. He’s more pleased than he should be about a rendezvous outside of school hours.

He walks slow, allowing his gaze to fall over you in paces. He’s already forgotten why he came here in the first place, his only goal now to get close enough to spot that freckle on your lower neck. He thinks about kissing it often. Not to mention, it’s winter, so any bare skin on display is a privilege. Light-wash jeans and a singlet with a cardigan pulled over it; he discerns the sliver of waist exposed between them, smells your lavender perfume and feels a jolt in his ribcage.

Kelce straightens slightly as he nears, clearing his throat. “Not bad.” He’s adopted a deeper timbre than you’re used to, enough octaves lower to earn a look of bewilderment. “You?”

“Not bad?” Rafe echoes, sending you a meaningful glance. “You guys have gotta do better than that.”

You narrow your eyes up at him. “Worse now that you’re here.”

“Funny, my afternoon’s gotten way better since I saw you.” Rafe grins. “What’s that saying again? Opposites attract or something?”

You frown harder at that, as if that’s somehow possible. Rafe aches. He’s going to get a smile out of you even if it fucking kills him.

“Anyway,” you say then, ignoring his jibe. “You seem busy, so we’ll let you get back to—��

“We’re not busy,” Rafe interrupts. He reaches behind him and grabs a chair from the table adjacent, sliding it forward and sitting down beside you.

“Rafael.” You sigh. “You can’t just—”

But the sound of Kelce’s chair scraping linoleum causes you to falter; he’s up and out of his own seat before you can continue, grabbing two more chairs and gesturing for Sarah and the mystery girl to join you.

You turn to him, confused, but he’s only got eyes for the pretty brunette that’s taking a seat beside him.

“Oh, thanks,” she says kindly. She’s almost blushing if you squint. “You’re Rafe and Sarah’s friends?”

“Barely,” you reply just as Kelce says, “mainly Rafe’s.” He sends you a pointed look before adding, “we all go to the Academy together. How do you know the Camerons?”

“We’re cousins,” she replies with a smile. “I’m Manon.”

“Manon,” Kelce repeats, slow, in that perplexingly low timbre. “I’m Kelce. How’re you finding the Outer Banks?”

“Good,” she says, still smiling. They haven’t stopped staring at each other since the conversation started.

That’s when it hits you. Your pretty eyes widen, and the corners of your mouth pull up into a pleased expression.

He’s totally crushing on her. Having known him for the better half of his formative years, you’re pretty sure your mind has gathered every single one of his tells.

The way that he’s scooted his chair closer to Manon’s, almost imperceptible. The fact that every word she says has his gaze pulling to her pink lips. They’re still having a conversation, but their eyes aren’t quite in it. Topper’s talking too, Sarah piping up here and there, but you’re taking in Kelce’s features and coming up with a plan.

Rafe is silent too. He hasn’t spoken a word since he noticed your features brighten. His chair’s pretty close to yours too, to be fair; he’s finding it hard to concentrate with your face a kissable distance away. The frown he brought to it has long since dissipated, the smile that reigns making his hands feel rogue, a little reckless.

He has a want to touch you that’s maddening. His only goal now is to keep you smiling that sweet smile.

Besides, he clocked Kelce’s eyes on his cousin the moment he made it over to your table. He’d recognise that look anywhere. It has that same helpless quality that your mere proximity brings him.

He throws his arm around your chair, pulling it closer to his. “Gross,” he murmurs, too low for anyone else to hear. “Could they be any more obvious?”

Your shoulders are touching. You try to focus on everything but the static bare skin on skin elicits.

“Personal space, Rafael,” you grumble weakly, sending him a reproachful look.

“I know right?” Rafe teases quietly, the grin on his face audible. “Manon may as well sit on Smith’s lap, huh?”

You try for a frown. “You know what I meant.”

“It’s different with us,” he says.

You turn to him then, raising your eyebrows. “How so, Cameron?”

A pause then, the closeness of your faces becoming painfully evident. Rafe’s gaze pulls down to your lips, the arm that’s resting on your chair pressing into your back. Your surroundings blur. How does he always manage to get you into such compromising positions?

“Just is,” he murmurs back, his voice rougher now than it was a second ago. His eyes are still on your lips, this maddening pressure bubbling up through his chest. “Mrs Cameron.”

“Ha ha.”

The jibe is enough to pull you out of your reverie, and you roll your eyes, giving him a shove in his chest. He doubles back dramatically, rubbing the space your hand pressed with a pleased grin.

“So have you guys ordered yet?” Rafe asks, drawing back into your space like a magnet.

“Nah,” Topper answers. “We’d only just arrived when you got here.”

“And we aren’t doing anything after,” Kelce adds, only really looking at Manon as he says it. “So we should grab ice-cream too, if you guys are keen. We’d love to help show you around.” He turns to you then, this pointed, pleading look on his face. “Right Y/n?”

“Uh.” You balk. “Yes?”

Your gaze moves to Topper and Sarah, who have struck up a similarly cozy conversation. They’re sitting pretty close together, all eye contact and Topper’s hand on Sarah’s chair back. Your heart drops.

“As long as it’s okay with Top and Sarah,” you add quickly, forcing them to re-enter discussion. “Top—don’t you have that thing later? With your mom and dad?”

Topper doesn’t seem to pick up on your cues, his hand sliding along the chair’s top rail. Sarah leans back into it. In your stomach now, you aren’t sure your heart has any further to plummet.

It’s easier to ignore Rafe’s patchouli and spice cologne when Topper’s indifference is so obvious. You find yourself at odds with wingwoman-ing Kelce and keeping Topper and Sarah as far away from each other as possible.

And you at a distance from Rafe, obviously. No grazing touches and lingering eye contact permitted.

“Uh… oh, the dinner?” Topper replies, furrowing his brow. “Yeah, but it’s only 1.00pm Y/n. Plenty of time before I have to head off for that.”

Your grimace. “Right.”

Rafe frowns slightly as he looks over your features, bemused. There’s been a shift in your demeanour, but the culprit evades him.

He watches you glimpse the sliver of space between Topper’s chair and Sarah’s. Oh. The need to pull yours closer to his intensifies ten-fold.

“If that’s settled, we should order,” he says quickly, jumping up out of his seat. He looks down at you expectantly, resisting the urge to offer up his shoulder for you to take.

He’s learned that some things are ‘too much’, whatever that’s supposed to mean. When it comes to you, too much isn’t actually part of his vocabulary.

“You coming, sweetheart?” He adds, his eyes still on your figure.

You meet his gaze. It’s softer than before. An emotion you can’t quite put your finger on passes between the two of you, a gentle something that warms your insides.

“Uh,” you balk again. “Me? Why?”

“Need your help. Don’t know anyone else’s order,” he says. Anyone else, like it’s obvious he knows yours.

Your eyes widen. That gentle something intensifies to hot molasses. “Neither do I,” you reply, almost defensive.

“I’ll get the classic,” Sarah says then, trying not to smile. She shares another look with Manon, who adds, “and I’ll grab the veggie.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, nodding as you stand. “Classic for you too, right Top? And the double for Kelce?”

“Nah, I want the veggie,” Kelce responds, sending Manon a wink. “Reckon it’s time I tried something new.”

Manon’s ears grow pink. “Good choice,” she says, her smile widening.

You can’t help but smile too, turning to face Rafe. And he’s grinning down at you in tandem, this mischievous glint in his eye, and you almost forget that you’re supposed to be vexed as opposed to enamoured.

Almost. You turn back toward the table, creating space between you and him. Rafe aches, again. There’s static like longing in your physical distance.

“Alright,” you say, sounding more amused than bewildered. “Coming right up, I guess?”

You make your way toward the front counter, Rafe falling into your step seamlessly. Once you’re safely out of earshot of your friends, he ducks his head closer to continue your conversation.

“So,” he says seriously. “How’re we going to play this?”

You frown up at him, confused. “Play what exactly?”

“Smith and Manon.”

You balk. “What? Like… set them up?” You steal a glance back at the table, where Kelce and Manon’s chairs have scooted impossibly closer. The unimpressed look on your face softens, a pleased smile transforming your features. “I don’t think they need our help Rafael,” you say, gesturing toward them. “Look.”

Rafe turns too, taking in the scene. “Shit, you’re right,” he responds, grinning. “We’re going to have to keep these good vibes going.”

“You’ll be an expert at those,” you say, raising your eyebrows. “‘Good vibes’.”

“For you, always.”

“For them, Rafe.”

“If it’s you asking,” he reiterates. “Always.”

Your traitorous heart stutters. To compensate, you roll your eyes and turn to face the counter. He moves in tandem, shoulders side by side, elbows almost touching.

“What can I get for you guys today?” The server asks absentmindedly, fiddling with the iPad in front of her.

“Uh, can we get—”

But Rafe’s quicker than you are, repeating the order with ease and adding your own at the end of it. He knows to order your burger with extra pickles and sauce, tacks on the shake you love to dip your fries in when you’re starved. And he pays for the whole meal before you can so much as grab your own card, leaving the server impressed and you perplexingly pissed off.

“You didn’t need to do that,” you say stubbornly, watching him slide his wallet back into his pocket. “We’ll Venmo you.”

“What? No way.” Rafe looks down at you then, all handsome and sincere. Your heart stutters again, a forgotten car engine reborn. “It’s on me, seriously.”

“Rafe.”

“Venmo’s gonna kill the mood, trust me,” he says. “We can’t go back to the table and talk finances. That isn’t romantic.”

“Maybe not for Kelce and Manon,” you reply, frowning up at him. “But Top and I will. You don’t need to pay for our meals.”

“Top got me some beers a few weeks ago, so I owe him.”

Bold faced lie, but Rafe doesn’t particularly care. He wonders whether you realise that you stand closer to him when you’re vexed.

“And me, Cameron?”

“You?” He echoes.

You fold your arms across your chest defiantly, furrowing your brow. Rafe tries to command his gaze, willing it not to fall with the movement.

He fails miserably.

“I—I’ll Venmo you,” you clarify. You aren’t sure why you’re faltering.

“You know I can’t let you do that, sweetheart,” he replies helplessly, his voice lower now.

You sigh, beleaguered. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re impossible,” Rafe returns. “I’d be beyond fucking disowned if anyone found out I made you Venmo me for a burger.”

“It’s polite,” you say stubbornly.

“It’s not polite when what’s mine is yours.”

You balk. “But it isn’t.”

“Course it is,” Rafe replies matter-of-factly. “Has been since freshman year.”

“When we met?” You ask, bewildered.

“Aw.” Rafe cracks a roguish grin. “You remembered.”

“You know what—”

“Y/n, I’m kidding,” he adds quickly, sounding amused. “Not just when we met. When I told my mom I was going to marry you.”

Your cheeks warm, the tips of your ears on fire. “Like I fucking said… impossible.”

“Anyway,” he continues, faux-sombre now. “Today isn’t about us. It’s about Smith and Manon.”

He turns back towards the table, gesturing for you to do the same. As you do, your wrists brush against each other, the pulses within them syncing. The skin-on-skin lingers. “What should we do after lunch? Beach?”

You nod slowly, returning to the task at hand. Trying to ignore the feeling of Rafe’s rough forearm on yours.

“Beach,” you agree. “Let ‘em walk ahead a bit, head to that monument where the lookout is.”

“Great idea,” Rafe says, that mischievous glint in his eye returning.

“And… have you guys shown her the old Church yet? We can drive up there and point out all the old boat wrecks.”

“Well, Smith can,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows at you. “We can pretend we don’t know shit.”

“Even better,” you respond delightedly, grinning up at him.

“And how d’you propose we spend the evening, sweetheart?”

You pause, furrowing your brow in thought. “I know,” you say after a beat. “Star-gazing. We can take some blankets to that park at the end of Clover, you can see Orion’s Belt from there.”

Rafe doesn’t miss the fact that you don’t tell him off for the pet-name, not in that exasperated way you normally do. He realises that playing Cupid makes you more happy than he initially thought it would.

Suddenly, it doesn’t matter that he was your very first victim. Spending time with you like this—like friends—is just as pleasing as teasing you into oblivion.

Not to mention, your proximity is far more apparent when you’re excited. Rafe wonders whether you realise how often your hips touch, your forearms, the soft knuckles of your index and thumb.

(You do. Rafe’s signet ring is as cool on your skin as it is devastating.)

“You know where else you can see Orion’s Belt?” Rafe asks.

“Hm?”

“From the very end of our boat dock.”

You turn to him then, eyes wide. “You’re kidding.”

“Not kidding,” Rafe replies slowly. You’re closer now than you were before, as if that’s somehow possible. “Used to lay out there with my mom all the time. She’d point them all out to me when I was a kid.”

“There’s more?”

Rafe nods. “Ursa Major and minor.” His freckles aren’t dissimilar to the constellations he’s describing. “The Big Dipper too, if we’re lucky and there’s no clouds.”

“Kelce won’t even know where to look for them,” you murmur, quietly bewildered.

“Doesn’t matter,” Rafe replies, his voice low too. “He just has to point at random shit and sound confident.”

You let out a bemused laugh. “S’that what you do with all the girls you take home, Cameron?”

He grins sheepishly. “Guilty. Only cause I know it doesn’t count with them.” He pauses then, ducking his head to eye level. “Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure I know every constellation there is when it’s you I bring home.”

—

Mission set Kelce and Manon up is a roaring success.

After a very enlightening lunch—where Kelce and Manon flirt shamelessly while the rest of you make hushed small talk—the six of you head down to the beach before Topper takes his leave for dinner.

And though by then the two lovebirds are well acquainted enough to be left to their own devices, they continue to insist on your company under the guise of maintaining pleasantries.

If you go, Kelce feels the obligation to go too.

If Rafe does, or Sarah for that matter, Manon’s far too polite to ask you and Kelce for a ride home.

Not that Rafe’s complaining or anything. He’s been afforded the luxury of your presence and he’s basking in it. Everyone around him seems to think his love’s for show, but quiet admiration in the name of company is just as valuable to him.

Setting up your best friend with his cousin, for example, putting his own feelings on pause so you aren’t obligated to act abashed.

So true are his efforts that they’ve led the five of you back to Tannyhill, the sun low on the horizon and amaranth dusk painting the walls in shadow.

As it isn’t yet dark enough to justify star-gazing on the dock, Kelce and Manon have situated themselves on the couch, looking far too cosy with bare shoulders pressed together.

Sarah’s retreated to her room, so you and Rafe idle at the stairwell, unsure.

“Uh…” Kelce turns to you over his shoulder, a hopeful look on his face. “Has Rafe given you a tour of the place yet?”

“Ye—” You falter, Kelce’s eyes widening pointedly. “Oh um, no. Don’t think so.”

Manon shifts sideways then, glancing back at the pair of you. “Rafe should then, no?”

Rafe’s trying his best not to look too pleased. He looks down at you to find that your gaze is already on him, that unnameable emotion back and torturous as ever. “I should, yeah. C’mon.”

He places his hands on your shoulders to guide you up the stairs, exerting this rough, sure pressure that leaves you a little dazed.

“So transparent, huh?” He murmurs, the smile on his face audible. “Sickening.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you whisper back, equally amused.

“Touchè.” He lets go of your shoulders then, pushing open a door on his left. The heat of his touch lingers. “Here, this is my room.”

You walk in slowly, cautiously. To enter his private space feels oddly sacred.

What’s mine is yours, echoes his voice on your head. You find yourself continuing forward before you’re able to stop yourself.

Scruples of purple light spill through his window, illuminating the flannel comforter pulled over his bed. There’s two bedside tables and a chest of drawers decorated with memorabilia, a wooden desk holding his computer propped up against one corner.

His en-suite door is ajar, shadowy dusk illuminating his toothbrush holder. And all you can smell is his woody cologne, all musk and citrus and spicy patchouli.

You didn’t realise how familiar the notes were until they registered. Less sacred, more home. It’s terrifying.

You grapple for purchase on something you don’t recognise. Walking around his bed to inspect his belongings more carefully, you find yourself face to face with baby Rafe immortalised.

“Fuck off,” you exclaim, letting out a delighted laugh. “How old were you in this, Rafael?”

You’re holding the photo frame that sits on his bedside table, your pretty eyes alight with mischief.

Rafe needs a second to recalibrate. You’re in his room, in the flesh, and Rafe really really needs a second to recalibrate.

“Four,” he answers finally, flashing you a sheepish grin. “I was a chubby kid, huh?”

“A chubby cute kid,” you reply, raising your eyebrows. “What happened?”

“Gained a few inches.” He walks toward you until he’s close, until the difference in your height and his is painfully obvious. “A whole lot of inches.”

You look up at him then, the dim lighting deepening the blue of his eyes. “A whole lot of audacity too.”

“And love,” he murmurs.

“Rafe,” you warn quietly.

“You’re in my room, sweetheart,” he replies helplessly, the timbre of his voice roughening. His gaze is darker now, mirroring the amaranth hues of nightfall. “You’ve gotta cut me some slack.”

Your eyes widen. “Doesn’t mean you’re allowed to look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re going to kiss me.”

A pause. Rafe’s Adam’s apple bobs dangerously in his throat, the small distance between your figures shrinking. “Fuck, Y/n,” he says finally, stepping back from you in a daze. “Is it enough?”

You furrow your brow at him. “What do you mean?”

“Knowing that I’d kiss you… that I’d do anything for you. Is it enough?”

You swallow. The pulse on your wrist falters. “I… I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Rafe murmurs back. “Cause it’s enough for me.”

[atrustfulplace]

looking at 911 and shows that queer bait makes me feel deranged. because like i’ve seen all the classic queer bait shows, some of which i ship (destiel), some of which i don’t (johnlock) and some i can go either way on (merlin/arthur). To me what makes me look at a story and decide whether i ship the characters is the question: would this make a better story if they were together? Usually i can see the straight explanation as possible but often i think it makes for a less intresting story. like dean could have had completely platonic feelings for cas and he just thought of him as a bestie, but the story and deans character become WAY more intresting if he was queer of some kind and in love with cas. Stuff that doesn’t have the same meaning for a straight person, can be world defining if the character is queer (ex: john having him kill the lesbian nuns). it’s that simple to me, destiel makes the story better.

now let’s look at 911, specifically eddie diaz. like i mentioned i can always see the straight explanation, stories can make sense without a character being queer, often they are just worse ones. eddie is my exception, i legitimately cannot see his story as anything other than that of a closeted gay man. like let’s take buck out of this, like the shipper goggles are off here, his and bucks relationship is fruity as fuck but it doesn’t even have to be counted to argue for a gay eddie.

like you have this character and he married the first woman he sleeps with because she gets pregnant and they are both catholic so they are pressured into marriage. he joins the army to get away from her and the responsibility. he would literally rather be SHOT AT than be married to his wife. when he finally gets back home he and his wife fight constantly, he will not give up the simplistic of things to support the needs of a woman who has put her life on hold for years so he could runaway from his family. she leaves, giving no phone number or address and the man is now a single father. years pass and they meet again, not because he wanted her in his life but because he needed her. she tells him that she’s pregnant again and he proposes to her again. she dies and he spends years using her as an excuse to no date women. (all the while growing incredibly close and co-dependent with his best friend who helps raise his child with him). when he finally starts dating again it is because everyone in his life is telling him he should, the relationship gets serious and when someone implies they have a serious future together he has a panic attack so bad he falls over and goes to the hospital. he breaks up with her because he was only dating her because his son loved her. again he spends years before dating again, saying when asked that why he isn’t dating is because his late wife was the love of his life, the woman who he spent LESS THAN A YEAR LIVING IN THE SAME SPACE WITH, WHO IN THAT TIME HE WOULD CONSTANTLY FIGHT WITH, but she was who he was meant to be with. ok eddie sure. when asked why he hates dates he says it’s because he has to pretend. he dates another woman after his family and friends pressure him again. he asks her to move in with him way to soon then quickly comes up with an excuse not to have sex with her, she moves out, they still date. he meets the carbon copy of his dead wife who he proceeds to have an emotional affair with, not physical at all, all his relationships implode from the fall out.

like this story doesn’t make sense for someone who is not gay. the pressure from the church, the denial about the realities of his marriage as an excuse not to date, HAVING A PANIC ATTACK WHEN HE THINKS ABOUT MARRYING A WOMAN, making exuses not to have sex. on its own maybe i could believe he is straight but together it literally does not make sense if he was. the stuff they add to make him seem more straight (dead wife obsession) is what convinces me the most that he is gay!!!!!

the funniest part is that if they actually made him gay they could have one of the most well written and authentic portrayals of deeply held internalized homophobia, repression, coming out later in life, and ultimately choosing happiness and love despite all of those challenges. like he makes me insane, i don’t even like him that much!!! like he’s tied with every other character on the show for me. but he confuses me in a way that none of the other characters come near touching. like eddie diaz I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE!!!!

tld r: eddie diaz as a character does not make sense as anything other than as a closeted gay man.

[sorinethemastermind]

Fluffcember 2024: Family Gathering| Rayllum & Sorvus & Clauderry Callum is determined to ask Rayla to be his girlfriend this Winter Break. But if he can't even start a fire, how is he supposed to create the perfect moment? Soren has decided to stay on campus this Christmas, but with Rayla and Callum as his only company, he's starting to feel like a third wheel. Except maybe it's not just the three of them left on campus after all. Meanwhile Claudia is trying to have a nice Christmas with her family, but maybe her family isn't at home...

 Rayla watched Soren go with all the rest of them, and winced a little bit as she heard the door shut behind him with a loud click. Harrow cast an apologetic glance around the room.

 “Anybody got any dishes for me to do? I’m about to run a load.”

 “I can help.” Rayla blurted before she could think better of it, rising to her feet. 

 He smiled at her. “Thank you, Rayla.”

 She trailed after him, collecting a few empty plates, and they went into the kitchen. 

 “You have a lovely home.” she said after a moment, voice sounding flat even to her own ears. She cringed.

 Harrow turned on her, eyes narrowing. “So, you think you’re good enough for my Callum, do you?”

 Rayla’s eyes widened and she froze before squaring her shoulders and taking a defiant step forward. “Yes. I do.”

 His expression melted into a boisterous laugh. “Good. I think so, too.”

 Rayla felt her face grow warm. “You were messing with me.”

 “And smart, too.” Harrow winked at her. “Yes, I was messing with you. Sorry if I gave you a start.” He turned on the sink, starting to wash the dishes they’d brought in from the living room. “Callum talks about you a lot.”

 “He does?” Rayla felt the flush in her cheeks intensify.

 “Yes. All the time, in fact. You’re just about the only thing that seems to be on his mind.”

 “And what does he say?” Rayla asked, leaning on the counter, a little curious.

 Harrow chuckled. “All good things. He says that you’re very smart, and funny, and kind. And that you don’t give yourself enough credit.” he glanced over at her. “You don’t have to try and prove anything to me. If Callum likes you, then that’s good enough for me.”

 Rayla let out a breath, smiling. “Thank you.”

 “Oh, don’t thank me yet. I’m not the one you need to impress.” Harrow asked, returning his attention to the dishes. “That’s his Aunt Amaya.”

 Rayla gave him a nervous look. “And… how likely am I to impress her?”

 “Depends.” Harrow threw her a sidelong glance, smiling. “Do you have any plans to break my son’s heart?”

 “Of course not-” Rayla spluttered.

 “Then you should do just fine.” Harrow grinned at her. “So, how did you two meet?”

 “I’d have thought he already told you, seeing as he talks about me all the time.”

 “He did. But I want to hear it from you.”

 “Well,” Rayla began, “it was in fencing club. I mean, technically we’d met before then, but I didn’t know his name or anything. But then he showed up at fencing club and he was just so awful at it-” she laughed fondly, remembering the way he’d tripped over his own feet “-but he kept coming every week, and I couldn’t figure out why and then one day we got paired together and…”

 “The rest was history?” Harrow offered.

 “Nah, I kicked his butt.” Rayla smirked. “Then the rest was history.”

 “He didn’t mention that bit, oddly enough.” he said, drying off the last dish and putting it away. “He just said that you asked him out.”

 “I did that after.”

 “And what made you want to ask him out, if you had just wiped the floor with him.” Harrow asked, leaning back against the counter to look at her.

 “That he kept showing up.” Rayla admitted. “Even after everyone on the team had walloped him. Plus, he was cute.”

 Harrow laughed. “He is determined. He gets that from his mother.”

 “She sounds lovely.” Rayla offered, seeing the shadow flicker across his face. 

 “She was.” Harrow said. “The strongest, kindest person I’ve ever met. Callum says you remind him of her. I think he’s right.” “Oh.” Rayla tucked a strand of hair out of her face. “Thank you.”

 Harrow smiled. “You’re very welcome.”

 The door creaked open nearby and Rayla turned around, glancing into the hall. She watched as Corvus melted out of the shadows and held his arms open for Soren, letting his partner hide in them. She took a step towards them, but Harrow placed a hand on her shoulder.

 “Go back out to the others, and bring that plate of food.” he inclined his head towards a nearby tray of snacks on the counter. “I’ll handle this.”

 She nodded, taking it and starting back towards the living room, where she could hear the others debating which movie to put on next. Something made her linger, though, just outside the doorway. She heard Harrow’s voice, quiet and calm.

 “Are you alright?”

 Then Corvus’, quieter still. “Just give us a minute.”

 “Wait-” Soren sounded a little strained, like he was fighting to keep his voice level. “That friend of yours you mention, would they still-”

 “I’ll text you their information.” Harrow replied. “There’s an empty guest room up the stairs and to the left, if you need a minute before rejoining the others..”

 “Thank you.” Corvus' voice came again, and then she heard their footsteps recede.

 Rayla smiled. Harrow reminded her of someone, too.

 It hadn’t been easy, leaving her home and going someplace entirely new. Especially after everything. It had felt like leaving the last little remnants of her parents behind. Like they’d stayed and she’d gone, somehow. Even though it had been the opposite. She’d thought she would be all alone; no family and no home.

 But Ethari had opened his arms and welcomed her in immediately. Not because she was flesh and blood, not because it had been easy (she had certainly not made it that), but because some people are just fathers whether you’re their flesh and blood or not. Some people are just family. 

 Rayla carried the little platter of food out to yet another family that had found her and welcome her in.

[imaginepostingonsideblogs]

name ONE crime cas has ever committed.

any "crimes" done out of love don't count, that's just how he shows affection, okay. i'm sure scarab and all of cas' other happy, well adjusted lovers would agree with me

weeeeeeeeeeeeeeellllllllllll..............maybe we shouldn't neutralise EVERY crime hes comitted. for. the sake of love. hes erm. thats um. its a lot.

...

all of them. its all of them, apparently.

[stunie]

i just WOKE UP !!?????!!!!!!

2024.07.15 — dinner date with Ume. ♡

(hands up if you know where the reference photo’s froooommmmm!!!! >:3 aju nice.)

[jensthwa]

show & tell (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

You have known Mingi since you both were fourteen. You’ve been by his side through thick and thin and you would do anything for him, really, considering he’s your other half. When he has an unfortunate bed experience and asks for your help and you say yes, he starts considering that, maybe, you’re just the best friend a guy like him can have.

PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: childhood best friends to ?

WORD COUNT: 8k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit, hwa being the voice of reason, sex talk, pet names (love and also dude and bro but in a sweet way), mingi scaring the sense out of you, descriptions of female anatomy, kissing, dirty talk (sort of), teasing, a little bit of voyeurism, fingering, squirting, almost getting caught, unresolved feelings.

NOTES: had to do a lot of research for this one, so i figured nothing better to post as my first fic here! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: july 18th 2024.

masterlist. / part two.

“Delete her number right now!” 

“She's such a bitch for saying that to you…” 

“And over text too? Wow.” 

“Yeah, no, I didn't like her from the start.” 

Wooyoung’s living room comes to life once again that morning, voices echoing and insults flying out, all towards the girl Mingi’s seeing. 

Was seeing. You're sure she's out of his usual rotation with the lovely shit show she just caused. 

You stay silent, your eyes fixed on your best friend's expression, on his red cheeks and apologetic eyes because everyone told him that girl was bad news. 

He should've listened to you when you told him you liked her friend better. She was a sweet girl, clearly had a thing for Mingi. 

Unfortunately, Mingi has a type. And that type always ends up breaking his spirit one way or another. 

But you stay silent, letting your friends have their little rants about how much of a bitch she is for hurting Mingi's ego like that, until he covers up his face with his hands and lets out a frustrated whine. 

“That's enough, everyone. I think he got it.” You smile a little and everyone turns to you, Yunho’s chest heaving and everything but Seonghwa (who also kept his mouth shut all this time) interferes before anyone else has the chance to start again.

“You know you shouldn't feel ashamed for that, right?” he asks Mingi, who slowly lowers his hands to his lap and looks at you for a brief second. You nod, confirming what Hwa says “No one is born knowing everything and she shouldn't expect you to know how to make a girl squirt.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Mingi whines again, closing his eyes “Don't say it like that.” 

“How else should I say it?” Seonghwa is confused but he laughs a little bit and turns to you. 

Being the only girl in the room, you think everyone it's expecting you to pick your friend up and join them in their insults but you can't (for Mingi’s sake). Instead, you let out a sigh “I mean, it's hard to even make it happen on your own without any help, Mingi. I don't know what the fuck she's on but…” shrugging, you extend your arm to pat him in the shoulder two times “Hwa’s right.” 

“So you do know?” 

“Woo—” Hongjoong reprimands right away and you turn to Wooyoung, confused.

“Huh?” 

“You said that it's hard making it happen,” he explains, smiling because he just found a new target for the next few days “So you must know.” 

Talking about sex with them was never difficult, it didn't make you uncomfortable whatsoever but you know what Woo is doing. 

You look down at Mingi before answering though and his eyes are glued to the carpet, begging for the topic of his unfortunate encounter with that bitch to die on everyone's tongue. 

So you take mercy on him. 

“Oh. I mean… Yeah.” You shrug once again, leaning back against the cushions on the couch while Wooyoung claps like he just heard the most hilarious joke ever. 

“You truly are amazing.” 

Rolling your eyes, you get up from your comfy seat “Sure. But it took a lot of practice and the whole ordeal was frustrating for me, so, again, I don't know what the fuck she was on,” you say again, smiling down at Mingi before taking a few steps towards the door “It's noon already, by the way.” 

“Shit.” Woo gets up quickly from his spot on the floor and everyone else follows suit. 

“Alright, everyone out! We have a midterm to cheat on.” San calls out and everyone takes it as their sign to actually leave (not just hang around the apartment) and continue with their days. 

This reunion was a little impromptu, just because Wooyoung texted everyone begging to come over and hang out with him and San before their online philosophy midterm. 

“And by that he means that you need to stay,” Wooyoung hugs Seonghwa hard, almost begging him with his eyes “We didn't study… Don't look at me like that! Please?” 

“I'm not doing your fucking midterm for you!”

You chuckle, leaning on the door and waiting for your ride home to get his shoes on. When you look down at him again, Mingi mouths a thank you and you blow him a kiss. 

When you get downstairs, you swear you still hear Wooyoung begging his senior to take the test for him. 

Everyone is quiet in the car. You can tell they're tired from exams and life in general, so you don't press them with questions and just let the music play in the background while you look out the passenger window and, eventually, at Mingi. 

His grip on the steering wheel lets you know he's a little more affected than he let on back there. But, again, you say nothing. 

You know better than to pressure him into telling you his feelings. 

Mingi and you have been friends forever. He lived a few houses down from yours, becoming your first friend when you moved to the city. You both were fourteen when it happened, so you've known him long enough to know what happens when he gets his heart broken. 

Not that Mingi loved that girl or anything, but he never really took embarrassment well. He didn't when the first girl he liked rejected him in front of the whole ninth grade class and he didn't when his pants ripped in the middle of the stage while performing a routine with his dance team on senior year. 

You stood by his side every single time and every single time he waited to sit down and let everything out, collect his feelings and talk to you through his frustrations. You really loved that about him, because he never said anything he regretted just because he was upset at the moment. 

Maybe that's why you two have been friends for so long. Opposites attract, or whatever your mother told you one time. 

In reality, you think it's because you two complement each other well. 

He knows when to speak his mind and you're kind of impulsive, heart on your sleeve and sharp tongue ready to defend your and your loved ones honor if needed. 

That's why it takes a lot of strength for you to not pull up that girl's number from his phone and give her a piece of your mind. 

One by one, you drop your friends off in different parts of the city and when it's time to go into your own house, you circle the car and Mingi rolls his window down.

He reads the look you give him a little too well, so he opens his mouth to stop you but you shake your head. 

“Call me, come over or just let me know if you need anything,” you start before he says anything “If you need me to beat her up, I can do that too.” 

He huffs out a laugh “You don't even know how to fight, love.”

You sigh at the nickname, he's been using it since the time you told him you had a crush on his friend, way back in highschool, and that you were positive you were going to get together and he would call you love because that's what good boyfriend's do. 

Turns out, you weren't exactly his friend's type. Neither were the other girls in your school. 

“I don't give a shit, I'll do it,” You two smile to each other fondly for a few seconds and then you tap the top of the car “Thanks for the ride, dude.” 

“You’re welcome, bro.” He rolls his eyes, annoyed because he hates when you call him that, but waits for you to get inside either way. 

And in the solitude of your room, you wait. 

You distract yourself with papers that are due in a few days, you start studying for your finals even though they're months away and you even go downstairs to say goodbye to your parents when they leave for a fancy dinner with their colleagues before you hear your phone ring. 

Mingi's FaceTime comes right on time, because you were getting really anxious from the radio silence on his end. 

“I have a small query for you.” He puts on an accent that makes you grimace immediately and he laughs at you. 

“Ew. Never do that ever again,” you beg, going back upstairs to your room “Go ahead.” 

“How do you do it?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“How the fuck do you make yourself squirt, love?” 

Oh. 

Definitely not the conversation you were hoping to have with him. 

It catches you off guard and you stammer your response “Um… You— I mean, it's not really a thing I can explain.” 

“You have such a way with words, though.” 

You stare at him through the screen, annoyed, and he just laughs again “Don't make me come over and beat you up.” 

“Alright, alright,” his giggling dies out and you distract yourself from the heat you feel creeping over your cheeks while putting away your statistics prep for the quiz you have next week. There's a bit of silence and then you hear him sigh “I do really want to know, though.” 

“If you're asking me this to then go over to her house and prove her wrong, I'm not telling you shit.” 

“No! No, that's not it at all,” he defends himself quickly when you turn your head to the camera, scowl in your face “When she asked me to do it, I really did try to make her, you know…” 

“You said squirt so freely a minute ago, Mingi,” you tease, smiling, but at his expression, you give in “What exactly did you do?” 

“I tried to, you know, do it like they do it in the movies,” he demonstrates his point with his free hand, his middle and ring finger down on his sheets, pressing and moving side to side “And she was enjoying it and she came, but nothing really… came out.” 

“Wow, first of all: you make her come and she has the nerve to give you shit over text? I hate her,” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “and second of all, that was a terrible mistake.” 

“What? Going like this?” He does it again and you roll your eyes, laughing a second later. 

“No, dude, trying to porno your way into making her squirt.” 

“Oh.” His movements on the sheets slow down and you grimace again. 

“Please stop doing that,” you beg and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you through the screen. You take your phone and move to the bed, resting your head against the pillows with a huff. 

You ponder for a moment. You're sure telling him what he wants to hear it's not really a threat to your friendship, but it's also something that's very personal and intimate. You can talk about sex with Mingi and the other guys, sure, what doesn't mean you tell them about your sex life. 

Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so excited earlier today, because you spilled something that involves you directly and not something vague and general like you usually do. 

“Would it give you peace of mind if I explained it to you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper as you sit straight on the bed. 

Your best friend takes what feels like a lifetime to respond and, when does, it's in a hushed tone as well “Please.” 

You groan and you comply either way, trying to find the right words to even start “Okay, I'm going to be very technical about this.” 

“I wouldn't expect anything else from you.” 

His teasing tone makes you glare at him for a few seconds before dismissing it with a click of your tongue “The very first thing you need to make sure happens, is that you wash your hands—” 

“Yes, Y/N, I'm not a virgin,” he huffs this time, annoyed “I know all of that, just skip to the part where I make her squirt.” 

“Jesus, fine! I also want to clarify that this works on me and I'm not really sure if it'll work on anyone else, alright?” he nods and you look away from the screen because you're not sure how to look him in the eyes “The first thing that I do— The first thing that you need to do,” you correct yourself quickly “Is make sure she's comfortable. And I mean, the space. Towels, water bottles… She needs to hydrate a lot.” 

“Hydrate… a… lot…” You turn your head to the screen and your jaw goes slack at what you see. 

“Are you writing this down?!” 

“I’m making sure I don't forget anything!” 

“You're unbelievable…” You let out under your breath and take a deep one before resuming the, apparently, class “Squirting can be confused as peeing and—” 

“Shit, hold on.” He interrupts and you hear his mom’s voice at the door, asking him something you can't really catch through the shitty airpod audio “It's just Y/N… I'm not really saying anything so I don't understand how I'm being too loud for— Yes ma'am.” 

You try not to laugh because he's literally being scolded right in front of you. 

Old habits die hard, and Mingi's mom loves to put him on the spot. 

Your laugh dies hard as well, because the next words, for some reason, make your heart drop to your ass. 

“She's telling me to either cut it out or go to your house, so… I'm coming over.” 

“Oh, I— Hello?” Your lockscreen mocks you because the call literally ended before you could tell him to go and fuck himself “Shit.” 

You don't know why you panic, but you do. You tidy up the room, you change your pajamas into something more presentable and you try to remember what you were telling him before he pulls open your bedroom door. 

“Mingi! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me “ you're panting, hand over your chest. 

He’s also panting, like he runned to get to your house, but he looks dumbfounded by your reaction “Your mom literally gave me the spare keys in your presence.”  

When he steps closer, you notice he's wearing cologne and that his hair it's a little wet, still, so you figure he took a shower before calling you tonight. 

Which means he probably wanted to sleep everything off, like he usually does, but whatever this is made him call you. 

“Yeah! But I thought you— Nevermind.” He shrugs and gives your hair a kiss before he moves to sit at your desk, the same way he usually does when he steals your laptop and notes to complete his assignments for the few classes you share. 

God. Somehow, you wish he was doing just that so it brings back some sense of normalcy. Maybe then, your heart can calm down enough for you to understand why this specific situation has your senses going insane. 

You sit back down on your bed and try to get your heart back to its place in the meantime. 

“They're not home, right? I didn't see your dad’s car.” 

“Company dinner.” 

“Ah.” He nods and you both fall in uncomfortable silence. It shouldn't be awkward, but it kind of is, even if you laugh when he pulls out the notebook he was writing on from underneath his oversized shirt and steals a pen from your pencil case, it's still a little weird. 

You gulp. 

“So, squirting can be confused as peeing.” He recalls the last thing you said with a smile and then he turns to look at you for a second “Go on.” 

You're grateful he's taking notes all of the sudden. He's turned to you, so you have a clear view of his back and you can freely take a grounding breath before continuing “It can make you feel very uncomfortable if you think you're going to pee yourself and that's really why most women don't squirt in the first place.” 

“You sound like you're reading a textbook.” He confesses with a laugh. 

“I told you, I'm being very technical about this— Besides, I did my research when I was trying to…” you gulp again “You know.” 

“You said squirt so freely a minute ago.” Mingi teases you the same way you teased him earlier and you squint your eyes in return. 

“Very funny. Anyways… Yeah, when you feel that, you usually tense up. You need to relax before even making it happen,” he nods, writing it down quickly “I also read that, depending on the person, you can confuse the liquid with, like, usual… arousal? Yeah, arousal” you sound more confident the second time you say it, unsure on how to call it because you never really explained anything related to your vagina to anyone else. 

He turns to you, confused “So… If she doesn't squirt a lot, how can I tell if she did it?” 

“I guess you'll notice it in her reaction?” You shrug and then cough a little to try and get rid of the sudden lump on your throat “I mean, it's not my case, so I wouldn't… I wouldn't know that.” 

Mingi, because -you guess- hates you, just raises a brow and looks you over one time before turning back to his notes. 

“A-anyways,” you cough again “It's all in her g-spot. It happens because it gets stimulated and that g-spot it's like…” you, once again, try to find the ideal words to explain “It's like the upper wall of the vagina? No, no, that's not right,” you see him draw a line over what he clearly wrote down on the paper and you laugh, apologetic “It's more like the, uh… Like the front wall of it.” 

“Front wall?” 

“Y-yeah?” you offer, nervous and unsure “I mean… Ugh, let me explain again. Something that you need to take into account is that you can only find it if she's really, really turned on.” 

“O… kay.” 

“Sort of like when you get hard we, uh, also get hard. Just differently,” you notice he's no longer taking notes when you turn to him again and the room is suddenly very hot. 

The AC’s on, right? 

Fuck. 

“And apparently it only really shows up when you're really aroused. The g-spot, I mean,” Quickly, you're up from your bed and walking around it, fetching your water bottle and taking a big gulp of it with your eyes closed. 

Mingi clears his throat a second later. 

“So it feels hard to the touch or…” 

“Not really, um… It kinda feels like a berry.” 

He laughs “What?” 

“Yeah, it's kind of soft but it has a texture to it too. And we, uh… have this gland that fills up with the liquid— Kind of like a prostate gland! Yeah, that's what that article said,” putting even more distance within Mingi and you, you sit back on the bed, just on the other side “If you try to do it before it fills up, you end up with nothing. That's what frustrated me the whole time I was learning how to do it.” 

“You didn't drink enough water?” 

“No, no— It fills up when you get really turned on. And when I was trying, I was trying way too hard and didn't, uh… I didn't do a lot of foreplay before trying, s-so.” You nod, finishing the explanation in a softer voice. 

Your cheeks feel hot and you swear your upper lip is sweating a bit. Why would you even say that? 

“Y-you didn't touch yourself enough or…?” 

“Exactly, I didn't, I just… Tried t-to stimulate it. Wasn't even wet enough so I used, uh, lube.” 

“Oh… Lube. Sure, okay.” He nods again, and then moves his hand over his face, looking away for a second “And then?” 

“I'm not really sure how to… Give me a second.”

What were you even telling him before exposing yourself like that? Before the tension in the room skyrocketed in a suffocating way? You're not sure. 

Oh, foreplay. Okay, what's next? 

“Fingering,” you say out loud when you remember and at the sudden word Mingi turns to you, eyes wide and you stumble over your words yet again “Y-you need to finger her to stimulate the g-spot, duh.” 

“Don't duh me, Y/N, I'm learning!” 

“Sorry!” 

“Okay! Now what do I do when… fingering.” 

That makes you frown. You're not really sure what to tell him next. So you look straight ahead and, unintentionally, move your ring and middle finger the way you do when you're touching yourself. 

In the silence of the room, you audibly hear Mingi’s breath hitching and that draws you back to reality. 

When you look at him, his eyes are solely focused on your fingers. 

“I don't really know how to explain this next part.” You sound apologetic, your lips tensing into a straight line. 

A bit passes. 

And then another one and another one where Mingi looks at you with a weird, foreign expression on his face. 

So you open your mouth to apologize to him, but he beats you to it. 

“Then show me.” 

You swear you never even heard him sound like that before. Or maybe you have, the tone of voice similar to when he just wakes up, low, grouchy, as if his throat might be dry. 

It just never affected you this way. 

“W-what?” you blink hard, a few times, trying to focus on whatever the hell is going on. 

“Show me how you do it… I-if you want to.” 

“Mingi!” 

“I just— Look, you don't have to,” he says right away “If you don't want to, you can forget I ever asked but I'm so… curious”, he says, getting up from your desk chair and planting his knee into the bed “And I'm also really butthurt over what happened. I want to learn but I don't really have anyone else to ask.” 

“What about, uh… Minseo! Yeah, what about her?” you offer quickly, also getting up. 

“San's ex?!” 

“I don't know any other woman that you also know, Mingi!” 

He gulps and breathes heavily, gathering his words, his thoughts, just like he always does and you remember: This is Mingi. Your Mingi. The Mingi you've known for years and care about more than anything. 

“I'm asking you because I trust you,” he says, looking you over once again “And because if I fail, you're not… going to make fun of me for it.”

There it is. 

You soften at that and he seems to relax at your reaction. His demeanor lets you know he's not just saying that because he wants to see you touch yourself, he's being honest. 

So you decide to be honest, as well. In a whisper, because your voice will tremble and give away how strongly you feel about his request. 

“I've never done it in front of anyone before.” 

“So no one has ever make you—” 

“No,” you confirm before he even gets it out and you sigh “I never ask for it and I haven't really… I've only slept with—” 

“Hangyeol.” He nods and scrunches his nose in disgust at the memory of your highschool boyfriend. They never really got along and it was a shame, because Han was a great guy, he just wasn't the one for you. 

“Mingi,” you walk over to him and he straightens up his spine “This could really… I mean, there's no getting rid of me in this lifetime, buddy,” reminding him makes him smile and you do as well, nervous, your body on high alert “But this could mess us up.” You finish in a whisper. 

“I'm not letting that happen.” He says back, eyes scanning your face before zeroing on your eyes “There's no getting rid of me either, love.” 

That nickname is going to be the death of you, you're sure. It makes you suck in air you very much need at this moment. 

Fuck it. 

“I'll… get the towels, then.” You smile a little even though your cheeks are burning and you feel a little dizzy while holding his gaze, but you don't back down. 

Before you move, though, he stops you with his hand holding your waist “I know where they are. Stay here.” 

You could literally melt right now. And you know it's a short trip to the downstairs hallway closet from your room, so you make sure you strip your duvet before things get messy. 

You should go to the bathroom, too, to clean yourself up a bit before Mingi finds out what you find out when you sit on your bed. 

You're so wet. 

And it's so fucking embarrassing, because you're not supposed to feel this way for him, for this.

Because, if anything, this is clearly just an educational experience.

And if Mingi’s excited look when he re-enters your bedroom tells you otherwise, you're choosing to ignore it for the clearly educational experience’s sake. 

“These will do?” 

You take the two mismatched towels and place them on the bed right away, not even looking at him. 

“Yep.” 

You think he nods but you're not sure, you just caught a glimpse of him moving towards your desk while you pretend to fix the towels in the bed to perfection. 

“Okay, so… You need to, uh, be comfy and shit. Drink water, you just did that a few minutes ago…” when you turn to him, he's reading his notes like he's actually about to conduct an experiment and you chuckle before shaking your head “The… The foreplay part should be next, right?” 

“Right…” you drag out, biting the inside of your cheek before he looks back at you. 

“You look really tense, Y/N,” he deadpans, looking down at his notes again “You need to relax so it can happen, right?” 

“You're about to see me touch myself and you think I can relax?” 

“Oh,” he frowns, immediately and then blinks a few times to refocus, you think “I'm not the one doing it?” 

“Uh… Yes? Later? I thought you wanted to see me first, y-you… You asked me to show you…” 

You can feel him think, the gears on his brain twisting and you think he's going to backpedal at any second because he's not really saying anything. Then you see it, the moment the image crosses his mind. 

And the next second you have him in front of you, towering over your form and then he's not.

Getting on his knees, he tentatively places a hand on your knee and parts your legs so you can make room for him to touch the end of the mattress with his chest and raise his chin just enough to make you think he's asking you to kiss him.

Oh God, you want to kiss him. 

His voice is a sweet murmur when he speaks again “Show me how to get you there, love,” he sounds like he's pleading, like he's begging you to instruct him and your breath catches when he moves his hand up your thigh “What do you like?” 

Your mouth moves before you can even think “Kiss me.” 

You don't even notice you're leaning forward until his breath fans against your chin and he tilts his head even more so that your noses touch. 

“How do you like being kissed?” 

You breathe out a laugh, a little annoyed by his constant questioning “Figure it out, Mingi.” And then the last thing you see is his smirk before his mouth presses against yours. 

It's not what you expect. If anything, you expected him to take the lead. Han used to do so, all the guys you've ever kissed did it as well. You don't really know why his patience surprises you, but it does and if your heart could race even more, it would. 

Because he waits for your guidance, waits for you to grab his shirt and jank him closer, waits for you to sigh against him and then returns the gesture when he feels your fingers move upwards and tangle in his dark hair. 

His mouth is complying to yours, his tongue is exploring it and wetting your lips in the process and you've never felt this good with anyone before. 

That's something you'll need to unpack later, but your brain disconnects when your best friend lets out a noise the second his hands touch your waist under your shirt and you forget, for a split second, that the point of this is to have you on your back pleasing yourself for him to learn. 

Because you want nothing more than to hear him make that noise again. 

The kisses grow needy and so do you when he trails a path with his wet lips from your chin to your neck and the next thing you know is that your back is against the towels you laid down before and his mouth is kissing the valley of your breasts over the cotton of your shirt. 

You look down and it takes a second for him to feel you staring before he looks up at you “Should we take this off?” 

Your voice gives away how gone you are when you reply a simple yes and your shirt is on the floor the next instant. 

Now, you're sure this is not the first time Mingi has seen you in your underwear. You both have gone swimming before and he has walked into your room a million times while you're getting ready. You're even sure he's seen you walk out from your bathroom in this specific bra before… But he's staring at you like it's the first time he's been able to trace the way your breasts spill a little bit over the fabric of this old bra you decided to wear today, like it's the first time he's allowed himself to enjoy it. 

Like it's the first time he's allowing himself to feel any sort of attraction for you. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, shallow breath hitting his cheek when he returns his mouth to your jaw “Let me… Come here.” 

You scoot up until your head rests against your pillows and he follows, resting his body weight on his side and chasing your mouth when you turn your face to him. 

You should speed this up. There's no way you're not going to feel like shit if tomorrow you wake up and remember you're letting yourself enjoy this more than you should. 

There’s no reason for you to lose your breath when his fingertips trace softly the skin under your breasts or for your legs to grant him access so quickly when they reach your belly and bypass every other part of your body before going straight in between them. 

And he notices it too. 

“I don't know why I asked you so many questions before,” he starts, turning his hand so that he back of it and his nails start caressing the inside of your thighs through your sweatpants “I know what you like. I pay attention to you whenever we're talking about sex with the guys.” 

You frown, about to remind him that you never speak directly about your own experiences but he continues his ministrations, giving your other thigh attention “I usually watch you closely in case any of it makes you uncomfortable, but I notice your reactions when they speak about something that you like.” 

Oh. Heart on your sleeve, your biggest flaw. 

“Like that one time Woo was going on and on about marking and you couldn't stop fidgeting on your seat…” his nose traces your jaw softly before his teeth take the skin underneath it and you gasp just enough to prove him right “Or that time Yunho said he hated teasing because he's an impatient little shit” he chuckles, his index finding the spot next to your mound and going down slowly until his knuckle graces the crevice where your leg and your hip connect “and you defended it until we had to stop you guys from yelling each other over it…” 

Your breath shakes and your eyes close at the sensation “Mingi…” 

“Am I wrong?” 

You shake your head no and you can all but hear him smile when he speaks again. 

“Of course I'm not.” 

You open your eyes and expect him to look at you the way he does when you're unable to defend yourself against his quips, but he's not. His eyes are following his own actions and his bottom lip is pulled by his teeth when he takes the fabric of your sweatpants and pulls it up, enough to give you some friction where you need it the most. 

“Can I take this off?” 

“Fuck, y-yes.” 

Joining your shirt on the ground, you're left only in your underwear while Mingi is fully clothed and it bothers you out of nowhere. 

“You're so wet already…” he observes and you blush, puffing some air and covering your eyes with your hand. He just laughs “That's a good thing, it means that I'm doing okay.” 

He's doing more than okay. Damn all the experience he has and the way he reads you so well. 

But his sweet tone gives you some clarity and you support your weight on your hand to fix your position on the bed. 

“Alright, let's… resume the lesson before my parents get home.” 

“They probably won't for now. The company dinners last until like… two in the morning, usually, right?” 

“That's when they decide to go out for drinks.” 

“Your mom always wants to go out for drinks.” 

“Let's not talk about my mom right now!” you beg and he laughs again, making you chuckle alongside him and you're glad he's talking all of this -the kissing, the teasing, the sweet-talk and the wet patch on your underwear- so well. 

The awkwardness from before dissipated the moment he got on his knees in front of you and all that followed was this lovely tension you're dying to keep between the two of you forever even though you shouldn't. 

“Show me, love,” he pleads and you sigh, his mouth finding your cheek for a quick second, encouraging you “And then you can show me how to make you feel good, too.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds “Damn, you're good,” he shakes his head and you smile, getting rid of your underwear and pushing the quick moment of embarrassment being bare with him in the room gives you “Remember that this is what works for me, okay?” 

He nods and then props himself up so he can see it better. 

You take a second before your fingers dive into your wet folds and, when you do, you gasp at the feeling. 

You've never been more wet just for kissing and teasing before. What the fuck. 

You do what you usually do when you're alone for a while and try to contain yourself from moaning because Mingi's eyes keep moving from your fingers to your face. Then, you remember you should be talking him through it, as well. 

“You see how I'm building it up?” you start, chest heaving and he hums as his reply “I'm not trying to make myself come but I'm kinda just… edging myself a little bit.” 

“Edging,” he repeats and then hisses when he sees your thumb pressing into your clit just how you like it, making you sigh heavily “I know all about that, that's good.” 

“Y-you do?” 

“You'll be surprised,” he smiles, proud of himself. 

“Okay,” you continue, taking a deep breath “Then you know about prepping, too,” he nods “So, a finger first…” you say, swallowing hard when your middle finger makes its way into your cavity without much effort. 

Dragging back and forth for a minute or so, you're incapable of containing yourself any longer. Air leaves your mouth in pants and your eyes close when you drag the pad of your finger upwards, locating your g-spot with ease because you're used to it.

“And then, two fingers.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Look at the position of my hand. I read that these two fingers work the best because they're longer than the rest, although…” you look at Mingi's hand over your belly. You didn't even notice before this that he was touching you, but he is and his thumb is tracing a pattern that both relaxes you and sends shivers down your spine “I'm sure that it won't be a problem for you, huh?” 

He sends a cocky smirk your way and you would've smacked him if you weren't so… preoccupied. 

Pressing your precious spot and then dragging back and forward, you stop the movements altogether. It felt too good, way more than good and it's a different sensation of what you're used to. 

And it's all because of him. 

You look at his side profile, his eager eyes commiting to memory what you're doing to yourself, probably taking mental notes now that his notebook is long forgotten over at your desk and… 

He deserves this. He deserves to be the one to have this, just tonight. 

You hate to leave what feels like it's about to be your best orgasm in the hands of someone who's just learning, yet alone a man.

But Mingi is not just any man. 

“Mingi,” you call and his curious eyes leave your heat a second later “your turn.” 

“Did you… Did it happen? I didn't see anythi—” 

“No,” you interrupt him, your fingers leaving you and you turn to him, your clean hand finding his face “show me what you learned.” 

His mouth parts, but you have a newfound confidence and a glint in your eyes that is new, so nothing comes out. 

“Prove that bitch wrong.” 

That seems to do it. 

His eyes go from being confused to spark with determination and want and electricity runs through you again because he seems so relieved he gets to touch you sooner than expected. 

Shyness and nervousness buried six feet under, you both smile to each other before you feel him. 

His fingers gathering your wetness, his thumb finding your clit with ease and expertise. 

“Wettest pussy I've ever touched.” You can tell he's a little lost in the heat of the moment but it's okay. So are you. 

Fuck. 

It's been way too long since someone else touched you this way, so you all but melt at the circles he draws on your clit. He paid close attention before, because he's touching you just the way you like it. 

“That feels so good…” 

“Yeah?” he asks, dark eyes finding yours before a particular stroke forces you to close them. And then he gathers enough slick to insert his ring finger inside and you can't help the moan that slips past your lips. 

You lift your hand to cover your mouth, but Mingi clicks his tongue in feign disappointment “I want to hear if I'm making you feel good, love. Don't hold back on me just because this is unconventional.” 

The worries die altogether with that. 

And now that you have free reign to stop containing yourself, you don't know how to stop. 

It's not long before his middle joins his other finger but he doesn't go for it right away. He fucks you slowly, allowing you to get used to the unfamiliar stretch of his way longer, way thicker digits until they slide in and out with little effort. 

His pace picks up after what feels like ages and your hand fists his shirt for the second time tonight, nodding and moaning in encouragement. 

“Deeper,” you instruct “curl them upwards and go deeper, you'll feel it then.” 

He obeys immediately, his chest heaving and his mouth parting in delight when he finds it. The pad of his finger presses down on it tentatively and your grasp on his shirt hardens.

“Is that it?” you nod and he does it again, which earns another moan “What do I do now?” 

Before you completely get lost in the feeling, you decide to drop the step by step bullshit aside and give him the full instruction in hopes that he'll remember it all without fucking up: “What works for me is pressing… Fuck, yeah, just like that a-and then…” you take deep breath “Just a little harder… Yeah, then rub it in a circular motion while maintaining that same pressure… Fuck, Mingi!” 

He's a little too good at following instructions, because he touches you like he's been doing this forever and soon you feel the familiar swell, the usual buildup of it all and he's taking you over the age like it's nothing. 

You forget how to speak, you forget how to tell him what he needs to do next and so, when you finally explode, you take his wrist and place his two fingers over your clit. 

When you move them side by side, he lets out a fascinated giggle but knows exactly what to do. 

A second later, your release is coating your thighs and the towels underneath you and you don't register anything else because your ears are ringing. 

Did you lose consciousness for a second? It feels like you did. 

That was the best fucking orgasm you've ever felt in your entire life. 

And when you come back down, you only register the sound of your breathing and plump lips kissing your face, his fingers stopping their pace once he realizes you're done with it. 

Opening your eyes, you stare at your popcorn ceiling for a second. Then, you look at Mingi who's already staring at you with a what the fuck just happened expression. 

It makes you laugh. Softly at the beginning, post-orgasm bliss takes over but then Mingi laughs too and your whole chest swells with inexplicable pride. 

You don't think twice before kissing him again. When you realize you did it, you pull back and blink at him like he didn't make you see stars three seconds ago. 

“That was…” his eyes do the thing he usually does. You never notice it until now, but he scans your face so frequently you've grown used to it, but now… It feels different. His teeth nip his bottom lip and he shakes his head before speaking “Come here, love.” 

And then he's kissing you again, slow, intimate, beyond the stupid lesson you just taught him. 

But you don't mind it one bit. 

You sit up, getting on your knees on the bed and basically forcing him to do the same. Ignoring the gross sensation of the wet towel underneath you, you pull him further into you until his chest presses against yours, until his hands roam your body and settle on your waist, securing the embrace. 

This time, when you pull away, there's this whole unspoken new thing between you. 

“That was…?” you press, smiling a bit, pulling both you and him back to reality. 

Right now, with you half naked and his hard-on pressing on your belly, it's not the time to discuss your feelings. 

“Possibly the coolest thing I've seen,” he starts, giggling when you roll your eyes “and the hottest thing I've seen, too,” you shrug, dismissing his stare because it's making you feel hot all over your body, again “and I'm really, really grateful you said yes, love.” 

The soft tone he uses to say the last bit relaxes you and you nod, deciding it's not the time to tell him you never even came like that on your own. 

Instead, you decide to grasp this intimate moment and extend it as much as you can. You can see Mingi is not expecting it when you reach his sweatpants and let your shaky thumb trace the outline of his cock. 

Closing his eyes, he lets out a pleased sigh before he grabs you by the back of your neck and rests his forehead against yours. 

“This is supposed to be purely educational, Y/N” 

“Is that what you want it to be?” you softly ask, pulling your hand away but then his hips buck and chase after your touch, making you smile despite the emotions swelling in your chest “Let me help you… Please…” 

“Fuck, don't beg me, love.” 

“Don't make me beg, then.” 

What the fuck are you even doing? 

“Y/N, I—” he stops suddenly and you're too lost in the moment to notice why. 

But then the sound of keys and a door closing downstairs scares the fuck out of you and you push Mingi away without thinking it through. 

He lands with a thud on your bedroom floor, next to your discarded clothes. 

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he whispers-shouts, both shocked and offended, but you're getting off your bed and picking up your clothes and the soaked towels so you don't really care about his feelings right now. 

“Bathroom. Now.” 

You're so blessed for having your bedroom right next to the upstairs bathroom. And so blessed that it is your bathroom and you don't have to share it. You’ll get on your knees and thank your gods afterwards, but right now you can only think one thing.

Don't get caught. 

Lord knows you'll never hear the end of it if Mingi walks out of here with a hard-on. Your dad will kill him, your mom will cheer because she loves the idea of you and Mingi together and you'll probably pack your bags and move away if it happens. 

When you lock the door behind you and make a quick show of putting your underwear and pants back on, you hear Mingi chuckle. 

“We can always tell them we're having a sleepover, Y/N, you didn't have to karate kick me off the damn bed!” 

“Hush!” But he just keeps giggling at your very obvious flustered state.

You're about to rip him a new one when he takes two strides, backs you against the bathroom sink, and catches your lips in a quick, sweet kiss and all your worries dissolve just like that. 

“Guess they didn't go for drinks after all..” 

“You think?” cocking your head to the side, the smile on your lips can't be fought at this point. 

He returns it and leans in for another kiss, longer this time and you sigh against his mouth before pulling away because you really, really shouldn't be doing this right now. 

You hear your mother calling your name and then footsteps up the stairs. A murmured she must be sleeping and a hum from your father before they pass the bathroom door. You truly only relax when you hear their door closing at the end of the hallway. 

“Okay, we're safe now.” 

“When were we ever not safe?” 

“When I was half naked on my bed, Mingi!” 

He shakes his head with a smile and takes a step back. 

You clear your throat. 

“I really did want to help you out but—” 

“Raincheck?” he asks and at your hesitation to say yes, he continues “If you want to. If you don't, it's okay. We… We'll figure it out, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He smiles again “Good, uh…” 

Mingi seems unsure on what to do next. Feeling the same, you decide the best thing to do is to get him out of here. 

Opening the bathroom door, you carefully peek into the hallway, taking his hand in yours and beckoning him to follow you down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. 

“Shit, your shoes…” you whisper. 

“I don't think they noticed if they didn't barge into the bedroom to check on us like they usually do, love.” He returns, in the same tone. 

That does nothing to ease your mind, but he makes sure to put them on quickly and then grabs your shoulders, shaking you in a teasing manner. 

“Quit worrying, Y/N. I can feel you thinking.” 

Of course he does. There's no one, in this world, that knows you better than him. 

It makes your heart flutter and it shouldn't. But you're getting on your tippy toes and stealing a parting kiss before you think about it too much. 

It's irresponsible for you to do so, but Mingi grabs your waist and extends the duration of the kiss and suddenly you don't give a fuck about your parents or anyone else finding out about this… shift in your dynamic. 

“See you tomorrow?” he asks against your lips and you nod. 

“See you tomorrow.” 

And with that, he leaves. 

You lock the door and practically run to your room after. 

What the fuck have you done?

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and since it’s an open ending (sort of), let me know if you want a second part! 

© jensthwa, 2024.

[gabseyoo]

PROOF — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: msby!kiyoomi, female reader, best friend!kiyoomi, pwp, cunnilingus, fingering, kinda best friends to lovers. word count: 2,7k.

note: this was supposed to be shameless smut but ended up being kind of romantic (?) just because a kiyoomi being in love with us is my sexual fantasy. also, i'm not satisfied with the ending, but i had no other ideas. maybe when i come up with something better ill change it, who knows :p

“Kiyoomi, do you go down on girls?”

The question took Kiyoomi off guard. You guys had spent the last twenty minutes in almost complete silence, just hanging out in his living room and completely ignoring the random movie you had chosen because you both were scrolling through your phones, which is why the last thing he expected to hear out of the blue was such a question.

He turned to look at you, who were lying across the couch with your feet resting in his lap and still staring at your phone screen. Not knowing what to say, a ‘huh’ was the only thing he could think of. 

“Just answer.” You poked his thigh with your foot. “It’s not like we’re strangers.” 

That was true. You two were good friends, practically best friends, and therefore, you both had full confidence in each other. But, you had always kept a limit when it came to talking about both his sex life and yours, to the point where that part of your respective lives was a complete mystery to each other. 

And this is a secret— but he liked it that way. Because he was more than sure that he didn’t want to know what you did with other men at all. Just thinking about it made his stomach turn with jealousy. That’s the reason he didn’t bother to tell you about his own experiences with other women either, just in case there was a small chance that you might feel the same way he did. 

“None of your business.” He answered sharply. 

You rolled your eyes before getting up from your comfortable position to sit cross-legged, “C’mon, Kiyoomi, It’s just a question.”

“A question I won’t answer.”

“Why not?” You crossed your arms, looking at him defiantly. 

Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes at your posture, why did you suddenly want to know that? Moreover, why did you insist on wanting to know? Did someone say something to you? Is there a rumor about him? Or maybe you had suddenly awakened an interest in him? He was overthinking, but still he hoped more than anything that it was the latter option rather than the others. 

“Just because.” He said, and before you could protest, he continued: “And, why are you asking anyway?” 

A smirk appeared on your face, “If you answer my question, I’ll answer yours. Deal?”

“Never mind.”

“You’ll never know why I asked, then.” You said, casually looking at your nails. “Unless we make a deal.”

He shouldn’t accept so easily, he knew, but now he was genuinely curious why you broke an unspoken rule between you two to ask him if he did orals, of all things. 

So, he agreed. “Deal.”

Your smile of victory almost made him smile too, but he did his best to remain serious. “Okay. Tell me.”

He sighed before answering honestly. “I do.”

Your eyes widened and an incredulous laugh escaped your lips before you said, “Really?” The surprise in your voice made him frown, why was that surprising? Should he be offended?

“Yeah.”

“Are you serious? You go down on girls?” You couldn't even hide the disbelief in your voice. “You?”

“I already said yes. Now, tell me. Why are you asking?”

Without further ado, you grabbed your phone that had been forgotten in your lap to unlock it, and a second later you were showing him what appeared to be your TikTok feed.

“A fan made a TikTok with the title: Ranking how good MSBY players are at giving head and you were raked as a zero just because he’d rather die than put his mouth there.”

What the fuck?!

“Let me see that.”

In the blink of an eye, Kiyoomi snatched the phone from you to watch the video with his own eyes, regretting it as soon as it started thanks to the embarrassing selection of music and photos chosen from the team members. He scoffed, a random person on the internet had felt entitled to make this kind of ranking just based on appearances and assumptions. It’s not like they could have any real evidence at the end of the day. But it seems that for many people a video of this kind told the absolute truth, because it had thousands of likes and thousands of comments, and—to his misfortune—he couldn’t help but read them.

Now he wished he had never done it. 

In addition to most of the comments agreeing and mocking Kiyoomi’s ranking, saying that at least his face makes up for it and that maybe he gives head as long as he has his face mask on—that one was actually funny, but he wouldn’t say that out loud—, the other vast majority agreed that Atsumu and Bokuto were the best. 

But the question here is, did you think the same?

“You actually believe this crap?” He asked, actually sounding more hurt than he planned. 

“Kiyoomi, it’s just a TikTok. Of course, I’ll believe it.” You were obviously trying to make a joke, but still, the expression on his face showed pure disbelief. “I’m joking, jeez.”

“I know it’s a just TikTok, but I still want to know.” He sounded serious. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes, perhaps thinking he was exaggerating, maybe he was, but he wasn’t offended by the fact that someone made that video, there were probably hundreds just like it. It was the fact that you, of all people, seemed to agree with an assumption about him and his very private intimate life. 

“Kiyoomi, I just thought it was funny. That’s why I asked.”

“But you didn’t believe me when I told you I did.”

“I did believe you.” He narrowed his eyes, showing that he obviously didn’t buy your words. “I’m not lying. I believed you, but— I was just… shocked.”

“Why?”

“It’s just that…never mind.”

“Tell me.” 

You looked him in the eye for a few seconds before sighing heavily.

“You’re… a little too special when it comes to cleanness and— where you put your mouth, you know?” You weren’t even looking him in the face, obviously nervous about the direction the conversation was taking. “I’m not judging you, we should all be careful where we put it. And, I just thought that… yeah” You waved your hand as you finished, trying to play it down. 

Kiyoomi couldn’t blame you or others for thinking that, after all, that was the kind of reputation he built for himself. But, even when he didn’t care what others thought about him, he always cared what you thought; for that reason alone, he wasn’t going to let you walk away with the wrong idea about him. 

“Yes, we should. But now you know that I actually go down.” He said, and, simply because he had a good feeling, he added: “And I’m pretty good at it, I can assure you.”

You scoffed. “Are you?”

“I am.” Confidence exuded in his voice, perhaps that was exactly why the next words came out of his mouth: “You want proof?”

What happened next was a delight to his eyes. 

You got fucking nervous, of course he noticed, you were his best friend after all. You widened your eyes, opened your mouth a couple of times in an attempt to say something but nothing came out. But what was a poem for him, was to see how you moved your hips slightly, in a movement that could have gone unnoticed if he hadn't paid all his attention to you. 

You cleared your throat as you looked away from his gaze. “I have no desire to ask your previous flings how good you are down there or watch any pornographic videos of you, so no, thanks.” You folded your arms as you sat up straight, suddenly finding the movie interesting. 

The room fell into silence, accompanied by a heavy tension that you two were obviously aware of. 

This situation was actually kind of funny. Thanks to a fucking TikTok, he now had an opportunity in front of him that he had been waiting for a long time. An opportunity he was going to take. 

“I wasn’t referring to that kind of proof.”

Three minutes later, you were lying on the couch with your head resting on a pillow, your pants thrown aside on the floor and Kiyoomi between your legs, spreading kisses across your belly. 

“This is weird.” You said, maybe in an attempt to break the intimate silence that had formed where only your breaths and his kisses could be heard. 

“It is.” He agreed before lowering his lips to your inner thighs, where he surprised you with a light bite that made you gasp. “We can stop if you want.”

You were quick to reply with a no and he smirked against your skin. Of course you didn’t want to stop, neither did he. Both of you by this point were already immersed in lust, even though it had only been a few minutes of foreplay.

When he was desperately taking off your pants minutes ago, Kiyoomi debated whether to just go for it or take it slow. 

But the moment he saw the longing in your eyes, how pretty you looked underneath him, he knew he would take his time. He didn’t just want to prove something to you; he actually wanted to taste you, to make you squirm, to make you enjoy this as much as he would. 

Gently caressing your thighs with both hands, he moved down until his mouth made contact with your pelvis, where he left another trail of kisses until he reached right where your clit was. Still above the fabric of your panties, he kissed you there, which was enough to elicit a moan of frustration from you.

“Please, just do it.” 

He kissed the same spot again before smirking. “Let me just go get my facemask, can’t do this without it.” 

His sudden joke made you burst into laughter which elicited a chuckle from him. “Don’t kill the mood.” You said as you gave a small pat to his hand that squeezed your thigh. 

He smiled and brought both of his hands to the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slowly. “At this point that’s impossible.”

“I know.” You muttered as you lifted your hips to let him remove the garment easily. 

As quickly as the garment hit the floor, Kiyoomi’s eyes focused on the middle of your legs, you may not have noticed, but the mere sight of your pussy glistening with your arousal made him twice as hard as he already was. 

“Don’t stare.” You said, trying to close your legs as much as you could since Kiyoomi was in the way.

No, no, no. There was no way for you to hide from him now, or ever. 

“Why not? You’re so fucking hot in all places.” 

Hearing his words, in an act of fluster, you brought both of your hands to cover your face, perhaps trying to hide how his praise made you feel. “You think so?”

The question came out almost in a whisper, and in response, he took both of your hands, interlaced your fingers and placed them on the sides of your head with the purpose of looking you in the eyes. 

“There’s no day when I don’t think that you’re hot,” He confessed, his voice deep and serious with the purpose of making you understand that he was not playing games. “Now that I just told you how crazy I’m for you, open your legs and let me make you feel good.”

You nodded, and staring at him with desire in your eyes, you opened your legs wide open again until that part of your body that he wanted to devour more than anything else was once again fully at his mercy.

Kiyoomi let go your hands and he lowered his body until his stomach made contact with the soft cushion of the couch. Now in that position, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, squeezing the flesh eagerly before dipping his head into the middle of your legs. 

“God.” You sighed, jerking your hips upward in surprise. 

He played slowly with his tongue, running it up and down before concentrating on sucking your clit. 

He was hard as fuck. Maybe more than he had ever been in his life. He even felt his tip leaking and was almost certain that if he started grinding his hips against the cushion, he could come at any moment. But he would save that for later. Right now, he was getting drunk on your taste and the sound of your moans. 

And fuck… those moans were heaven itself. 

He lowered his mouth, right at your entrance, where he began to lick gathering more of your juices before he deepened his mouth against your clit, sucking harder, quickly realizing that you liked it by the movement of your hips and the loud whimper that came out of your mouth. 

Kiyoomi was getting excited, even more so when he felt your hands stroking his head before pulling his curls, holding him closer to you, as if you were afraid he would break away, taking with him the pleasure you were feeling, but Kiyoomi wasn’t willing to do that, right now what he wanted most was you coming as hard as you could in his mouth. 

Hungry to increase your pleasure, he didn’t think twice when he let go of one of your thighs to stick a finger inside you, thrusting it in and out a few times before slipping another one in and curving his fingers to reach that sensitive spot inside you. 

“There, oh god, there.”

He would give you whatever you wanted, so he focused there. Feeling lovesick at this point. Loving the way you sounded. Loving the way you pulled his hair. Loving  the way your tight pussy squeezed his fingers. 

He moved his tongue back down to your entrance at the same time he pulled his fingers out, but only to start circling them over your clit. This is where you put a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming, but Kiyoomi didn’t want that, he wanted to hear you come undone for him, no matter if it woke up the neighbors. So with his free hand he took you by the wrist at the same time that he separated his mouth from your sex.

“Don’t hold back those sounds, I want to hear you scream for me. Okay?”

You nodded. Too shocked to formulate words. 

“Good girl.” He praised before placing a short kiss on your wrist, releasing it a second later to immediately return to seal his mouth with your wet pussy. 

This time he put both hands behind your knees to spread your legs wider and pushed them against your chest, giving himself more room to continue devouring you, proud that you were no longer shy to scream with pleasure when he flicked his tongue, sucked and bit your pretty pussy. 

“I’m close. Fuck! Don’t stop, please.”

Kiyoomi wouldn’t stop, he was sure of that.

It was a matter of seconds when started to came in your best friend’s mouth. 

Kiyoomi kept licking, drinking up all your release until your legs began to shake from overstimulation. 

He gave a peck to your clit before gently letting go of your legs, settling them slowly on the cushion. He caressed your thighs as he left kiss after kiss on your belly, helping you relax as you tried to control your breathing after such an intense experience. 

You were lying there staring at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Perhaps processing everything that just happened, but Kiyoomi wouldn’t give you time for regrets, not now, not ever. He moved on top of you, resting his forearms on either side of your head and looked down at you, connecting your gazes before asking with a cocky smile on his face, “And? How was it?”

You let out a chuckle and rolled your eyes playfully before answering, “I think TikTok and I owe you an apology.” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re definitely not a zero.”

“I’ll be happy with yours alone.” He said before lowering his face further until your noses brushed, “Your opinion is the only one I care about afterall.” He added before finally kissing you.

[dollishmehrayan]

# HOW BATBOYS REACT TO YOU WEARING THEY'RE COLOR ── .✦ ( eg. nails, clothes, anything ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )

a/n: so I first did a small idea of this (here) and then I thought why not do it based off this anon (here) so yeahh, anyways I kinda fell so off course like genuinely I need to make more batboys content, tags: (batboys x reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick notices instantly. He’s hyper-aware of the blue.

“Wait, are those nails painted Nightwing blue? Babe, did you do that for me?” Cue the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

Compliments you non-stop. He’s not subtle about how much he loves it.

“You’re really pulling off my color, you know. Almost makes me think you’re trying to steal my spotlight.”

Gets extra touchy holding your hand, brushing your hair back, etc. “You’re so cute I can’t even deal right now.”, “It’s just blue and black colored nails dick.”

If it’s a clothing piece, he’ll joke, “Matching outfits for day? Say the word, and we’ll be Gotham’s most fashionable duo.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason notices but plays it cool at first. “Nice color choice,” he says casually, though he’s dying and resurrecting inside.

If it’s your nails “You’re carrying my whole brand on those hands. Should I start paying you royalties?”

If it’s clothing, “Careful, babe, wearing red this well might make you a target and you might be mistaken for me.” But his smirk shows he’s all for it.

Low-key proud you’re repping his colors but doesn’t know how to express it well. Might just stare a little longer than usual.

Ends up pulling you closer while murmuring, “You look good in my color. Too good.”

Secretly starts thinking of ways to return the gesture, like wearing something in your favorite color. (He’s hoping it’s not absurd neon colors😭)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Blushes immediately. He’s not even subtle about it. “Wait… is that red because of… me?”

Obsesses over the details. “Did you match your nails to the exact shade of my suit? That’s, like, the coolest thing ever.”

Super flustered but also unbelievably touched. “I didn’t know you liked my colors that much.”

If it’s a clothing item, he’d be stunned for a moment before saying, “You look so… wow. You’re killing it.”

Gets a little shy but can’t stop glancing at you all day. Ends up fiddling with your hand if it’s your nails.

Might text you later "Thanks for making my day with that. You didn’t have to, but I really, really loved it.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Notices instantly but acts unimpressed. “Hmph. So you’re inspired by me today?”

Low-key thrilled but refuses to let you know. If it’s your nails, he might sarcastically say, “Subtle.” But he’s secretly staring.

If it’s clothing, “Green suits you. Perhaps you should wear it more often.” It’s his way of saying you look amazing.

After some time, he’ll let his walls down. “It’s not awful… You look better in my colors than I do.”

Will absolutely brag to Alfred or the others about it later. “Clearly, they understand quality when they see it.”

Ends up gifting you something else in his colors—maybe a scarf or bracelet—just to see you wear it again.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce notices immediately but doesn’t say much at first. He’ll just give you that classic Bruce Wayne smirk.

If it’s clothing, he’ll subtly comment, “You look good in black. Suits you.” (High praise from him)

If it’s nails, he’ll gently take your hand and examine them. “Interesting choice. Are you sending a message, or…?”

Deep down, he’s really touched but doesn’t know how to express it. Might make a dry joke like, “So you’re my sidekick now?”

Later, when you’re alone, he’d admit, “It’s nice seeing you in something that reminds me of… us.”

Low-key loves the idea of you wearing his colors often. He’d never say it outright, but his actions like buying you more black and yellow pieces make it clear (to a point half your dresses were either black or yellow even you’re gold jewelry has yellow hints and accents😭😭)

[vanesycho]

Cold boyfriend Niki who only acts close to his girlfriend headcanons;

☆Sometimes he doesn't talk much even around you, but it's never because he doesn't love you or doesn't like being there at that moment. He enjoys just sitting quietly with you, even if you talk about unimportant things, his full attention will be on you, if you get stuck while talking, he will smile slightly and wait for you to continue.

"It's okay, go ahead hm? What were you saying?"

☆Sometimes he is shy about showing his love verbally, so he prefers to make small gestures. For example, if it's cold that day and you don't have a jacket with you, he'll complain, but a few seconds later you'll see his jacket on you. The only reason he's mad at you is because he cares about you.

"How many times do I have to tell you to bring an extra sweater? Aren't you worried about yourself? You'll get sick again and I'll have to take care of you." He loves looking after you and taking care of you more than anything else in the world.

☆There are situations where you don't even need to talk for him to understand you, if you are uncomfortable with that situation, he understands this and immediately takes action to protect you. If necessary, he will be extra rude to that person, he doesn't care about any bad comments he receives, if they are disrespected, he will do it twice as much.

"She said no and you're too stupid to understand that? Maybe I should speak the way you understand?"

☆He always has a different smile for you and that can be the thing that makes you the happiest. He has the cutest smile in the world and you're the only one who sees it? Totally a win.

"Your smile is really beautiful, I've never seen you smile like that at others."

"Others don't make me as happy as you do."

☆He likes to make sudden plans, especially when you're sad. He doesn't care what time it is, he still has to find something to make you feel better, otherwise he'll feel bad.

"Already close to your house, just wait for me, okay?"

"Niki, it's literally 2 in the morning."

"And? You're upset and you expect me to leave you alone?"

☆Even though he says he doesn't like physical contact in public, he has to hold your hand. He likes to have you around. Especially if you're in a place with a lot of people, he has to keep you in sight. If you're alone, he likes to bury his head on your shoulder, and he'll often play with your hands while doing so.

"You smell so good."

"That's the 5th time you've said that."

"Yeah? You don't seem to understand. Do you want me to say it for the 6th time?"