#no yeah just from this snippet I totally get it

[lloydskywalkers]

barometric pressure

it's finally getting cold here and actually feels somewhat like winter so!! Zane on the brain, i rewatched s11 again and had feelings about the complete and total lack of addressing everything that went down in the Neverrealm, etc, so here's a shorter snippet of Zangst (that isn't even angst really it's just snow ramblings oops)

Exactly four months, six days, and an indeterminable amount of hours (it is ten) after they returned from the Neverrealm, the clear, crisp skies of late autumn give way to the gray, overcast start of winter.

It’s a painfully familiar sky, one Zane knows nearly as well as he knows himself. The graying clouds are as clear a signal of snow as anything, though he’s already well-prepared.

Vex’s whispers returned to his ears around the same time the first, familiar chill began seeping through the monastery walls. 

For others who are not Zane, though, snow could still mean happier things. He still recalls the expression on Kai’s face the first winter he’d spent with them, snowflakes dotting his eyelashes as Jay wildly demonstrated how to craft a lopsided snowman. So Zane hopes, however weakly, that the rest of them can welcome the snow as enthusiastically as they have in the past. 

His hopes are neatly shattered, however, when the first thing Cole does is set straight out for the woods and return with enough firewood to burn down the entire mountain.

“What are you gonna do, roast every marshmallow in Ninjago?” Jay gapes at him.

Cole rubs the back of his neck, firewood precariously balanced in one mitten-covered hand, his nose a shade darker than the rest of him from the growing cold. “Just thought we should be prepared,” he says. “In case the power goes out, or we just, you know. Wanna have a fire.”

Zane feels the room slip a little colder from his words alone. Or perhaps it’s his imagination — it’s been active, of late. For example, Vex and his whispers are several dozen realms away, and Lloyd is choking on the hot chocolate he’s drinking too fast instead of staring lifelessly at him from a frozen prison. Kai and Nya are fighting over the few coats they have that aren’t torn or stained or covered in what’s either glitter or the fragmented remains of their last enemy’s vehicle, not encased in blocks of ice, voiceless and empty.

Cole is…now distracted and giving him concerned looks, while Jay struggles to keep the firewood from spilling over his arms. 

Ah. He’s drifting, again. 

“How about we start the fire — in the fireplace, Cole, help—”

“Are you okay?” Cole asks bluntly, absently adjusting his hold on the firewood as Jay stacks the loose logs back in his arms. 

“Of course,” Zane says. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

A crucial error. He knows better. Leaving things at ‘of course’ is a risky move, but it’s certainly a better option than flat out asking Cole to pounce. 

Jay makes it first. “Yeah, ‘cause when I’m fine, I disassociate staring out the window for hours all the time.” 

“I was not disassociating.”

“Uh-huh. Hold on, lemme find a dictionary. Right next to ‘disassociate’, there’s a nice little picture of—”

“Lloyd,” Zane says. “You will find my image next to ‘emotionally removed’.”

“That is dissociating, and Lloyd’s next to ‘traumatized’. Nice try, though.”

“We’re all next to traumatized,” Cole mutters, finally giving up and dumping his stack of firewood next to the door. Zane quietly calculates how long it will take Kai to set it ablaze, along with how much it will cost to replace the door if it ends up collateral damage. 

“Not me,” Jay says, hands on his hips. “I’m next to optimism. Which you could all use, you know.”

Cole stares at him in disbelief. “Optimism? You’ve predicted our deaths like, six times in the last month alone—”

“It’s called a joke, where’s your sense of humor?”

“Jokes are only funny if you aren’t screaming them, and — oh no you don’t.”

Zane sags in defeat as Cole snags him by the back of his sweater. He was so close, too. Normally, Cole and Jay’s arguments are the perfect time to make an escape. Either they’re getting more observant, or he’s getting careless. 

“Look.” Cole lets go of his sweater, crossing his arms in front of himself. Zane can’t tell if he’s warding off the chill, or warding off the same dark thoughts that have haunted them all since the snow began sticking. “I know we’re not…there, anymore, so it’s different. But if you’re having a hard time—”

“I am not.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.” Cole huffs, his forehead still scrunched up in worry. “But if you were to hypothetically be having a hard time, I’d hope you could talk to us. Any of us. It doesn’t have to be me, just…” He looks away, staring out the window wistfully. 

“Winters have always been fun, with everyone,” he finally continues. “Remember the first time it snowed, when it was just you and me and Jay?”

Zane avoids his eyes. He does remember, of course. He remembers everything, even the things he wishes he could forget. But the memories of those early days, the first few months adjusting to living with others in the monastery, have yet to be tainted with any kind of darkness. 

Jay had been near-comically scrawny back then, hair pressed resolutely against his forehead from his countless attempts to get it to stay there. Cole had been smaller, too — a bit sharper around the edges, his walls a bit higher, but still open enough to make Zane feel like a part of their little team. He still remembers Cole’s laughter, observing Zane’s terrible first attempt at sculpting anything from the snow, Jay his long-suffering teacher. 

It had been the first time snow had meant anything fun, instead of the perpetual silent blanket that cut Zane off from the rest of the world. 

And now here he is, years later, with all of Jay and Cole’s efforts gone to waste. 

“You should come outside with us, after Cole finishes his firewood mountain,” Jay suddenly says, a bit breathless. “See how your snowman skills are shaping up.”

It takes Zane a moment. His mouth is full of refusals, his mind stuck on the fact that the last shape he made from snow was an enormous, vicious ice dragon that nearly killed everyone he loves. 

But Jay looks painfully hopeful, and a bit too nervous that Zane will say no, and Cole’s edges are so soft now, Zane fears his own sharp edges will only hurt him. 

“Give me a moment,” he says, forcing his tone to sound light. “And I will. I will join you.”

Cole’s eyes light up, and a beaming smile breaks across Jay’s face. 

“Sweet!” Jay claps him on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go drag Nya out of hiding, but the snow’s piling up in the courtyard, so if we get out early enough we can ambush Kai with snowballs when he comes out.”

Cole rolls his eyes. “I’m not digging you out of your snow grave this time,” he calls, following after Jay. 

“Spoken like someone who wants to take on Nya in one-on-one combat!”

“I’m not insane, I’m not doing that either!” 

Zane hesitates, left alone in the hallway. He crosses his own arms against the sudden chill, tiny stabs of regret already making themselves known. 

It is easy to lie, but what will happen when he actually joins them in the snow? What if the icy chill sets in, miles of white all around, and he loses himself again? 

The others weren’t there. They know his role in the Neverrealm, of course, but none of them saw the monster he let himself become. The depths of his cruelty, his coldness, what he was capable of — all of it remains Zane’s secret to keep. 

Well. 

That is a lie, and with it lies another significant reason Zane should avoid setting foot outside. His presence will only ruin things. 

Yet the quiet, aching part of him seeks out the exception anyways, because deep down, Zane is just as selfish as any other person. 

Lloyd looks little better than Zane feels, his eyes glued to the graying skies with the same look of faint dread Zane stared the drifting snowflakes with. His knees are drawn up tightly to his chest where he sits on the sofa, his mouth pinched as he picks apart the already-fraying edge of his scarf. 

His expression softens when he sees Zane, mouth curving up into a faint smile. 

“You get cornered, too?” 

At his brief look of confusion, Lloyd nods at the thick jacket Zane’s wearing. 

Zane looks away. “They seem to think it will be fun. A snow day.”

“Mmh.” Lloyd turns back to the window. With a sigh, he slides his legs out, standing as he throws the threadbare scarf around his shoulders. “Guess we should get out there, before Jay starts building his nightmare snowmen in the courtyard.”

Zane blinks at him, taken aback. “You’re joining them?”

“Duh,” Lloyd frowns. “I wanna have fun, too.”

“Ah.” Zane isn’t sure if what he feels is guilt, envy, or some odd mix of the two. Confusion, he finally decides on. “It doesn’t…you’ll be alright, in the cold?”

Lloyd’s expression falls, but he doesn’t look away. He fiddles with the edge of his scarf, as if turning words over in his head. 

“I’ll be okay,” he finally says, in the quiet, softer way he speaks now.

He used to be louder. Zane remembers, down to the exact cadence of his voice — straining a bit too low for his throat, acting a bit too old for his age. Less…reserved. 

Younger. 

Then Lloyd smiles, and Zane reminds himself that Lloyd’s voice is also lighter, these days. It’s been growing more so, ever since the last of the Oni attack was cleared away and the unhealthy pale left his skin. Lloyd’s quicker to laugh and easier to poke at. Slower to step into the role of leader, preferring to linger behind with the rest of them, as if he can soak up their warmth like a sadly starved sponge.

“I don’t mind wind,” Lloyd continues. “I like volcanoes. I think I’ll be fine in snow.”

He worries his lip, eyebrows furrowing. “The question is whether or not you will.”

Zane startles. “That is not—” He closes his mouth. The words do not come easily, or much at all. How can he make Lloyd understand, that he has no right to fear the snow? When snow is his element. When any pain caused by it is only his fault, in the first place. When Lloyd still bears the scars of frostbite, when Kai’s hands tremble in the cold, when Jay watches Cole with worried eyes and Nya frets over the water heater each night. 

Lloyd’s hand settles tentatively over his own, a bright burst of warmth that quells the tremors Zane hadn’t realized run through his fingers. 

“How about this,” he amends. “We can either stay inside and steal all Cole’s marshmallows for our hot chocolate, or you can come outside and help me fix Jay’s ugly snowman?”

Zane looks down. It’s a kind trick Lloyd’s using, one he’s learned well. Simple decisions — one a retreat, one a cautious step. 

A part of him still balks at the idea of stepping out into the cold. Vex’s voice lingers in the freezing air, the reminder of bitter ice beneath his fingers and the cries of his friends. 

Kai’s laughter shatters the silence, muffled through the monastery walls but no less clear. He can hear Nya’s quick follow-up, a round of foul cursing that would have Sensei frowning at them all. 

Zane lets out a breath. 

It is selfish. It is self-centered and short-sighted, and it is all but an insult to what he’s done to the people of the Neverrealm. 

And perhaps Zane is a terrible person, after all.

But Zane is not a coward, either. 

And Zane is fortunate enough to have a family, one who would lie and steal and cross realms and frozen wastelands for him, and he thinks, perhaps this once, he can be selfish for their sakes. 

Squeezing Lloyd’s hand briefly, he nods. “I suppose it would be cruel to the poor snowman, to leave him in Jay’s hands.”

A smile splits across Lloyd’s face, a faint echo of the boy who dyed his uniform pink. 

“Okay. Pixal’s got a scarf for you, then.”

Pixel does indeed have a scarf for him, and it is perhaps the most disastrous thing Zane’s ever laid eyes on.

“I don’t understand what happened,” she says, staring at the scarf in his hands. Her face screws up in frustration, lips set in what could be called a pout, if he didn’t know better. “I followed the instructions to the letter. My slipknots were perfect.”

Zane carefully places the scarf around his neck, wrapping the crooked, colorful mass of fabric around as many times as he’s able.

It ends up being about four, and he wonders briefly how many stores Pixal bankrupted of purple yarn. 

“I love it,” he tells her. “Thank you.”

Pixal’s face breaks into a bright smile. “It’s warm, isn’t it? I wanted to be sure, that it was warm.”

Ah. The many layers make a bit more sense now, and Zane’s heart aches. 

He does not deserve this, but the scarf still sits around his neck. Lloyd still waits for him by the door, endlessly patient and hopelessly trusting. 

Kai still beams when he sets foot outside, blinking snowflakes from his lashes as he waves, moments before Nya dumps a bucketful of snow over his head. 

Jay still lets him reshape his snowman, only scowling once at his critique before asking him which of their family they should recreate in snow. 

Cole still smiles, when Zane sweeps out that same warm smile in the snowman that only just resembles him. 

And Nya finally lets her hourly crisis over the water pipes go, handing him a snowball instead and instructing him to let Kai have it. 

He doesn’t know the answer to Lloyd’s question, exactly. Whether or not he’ll be okay, when the snow falls heavy and the reminder of what he’s done presses heavier. 

But he does know that the cold that followed him from the Neverrealm does not reach him, not even as he’s tackled into a heavy drift by Cole halfway through their snowball fight. 

And perhaps, for now, that can be enough. 

[val-of-the-north]

DAAAANG. He doesn't just look otherworldy, he sounds otherworldly too! I love that mysterious droning that happens before and during the times he speaks.

Also was he a disembodied light for some time or something? Really gives the vibe of a superior being, but he sounds so gentle despite that. Really, REALLY sick character lol, holy crap.

also did he just do the yes meme agkmglm

I was unfamiliar with kosh so I had to check him out and...

Damn. I really get you. This is sick

Oh hi Val xD

OH MY GOOOOD YESSS

This is all I can find to show!!! He always speaks in riddles and had such chemistry with the protagonist of further seasons of the series, Captain Sheridan… My mom didn't get why I was so excited when Kosh was on the screen... xD

[prettyboykatsuki]

mixed messages | r. sukuna

✮  tags ; gn + afab!reader, unhealthy relationships, not cheating but reader flirts with gojo while tipsy for fun, undefined relationships, fingering / making out, jealousy, modern!sukuna, sukuna and yuuji r brothers 18+

✮ wc ; 2k

✮  a/n ; a snippet / extension of my modern sukuna post for @arguablyferal. i hope it gives a clear-ish idea of what he's like!!

some more like. relationship explanation in an authors note at the end.

✮  synopsis ; you've never been able to get a good read on him. would he really come to a party just to keep you from flirting with another guy ?

somehow you doubt it.

He's hitting on you.

Gojo is, you think. Though you can't be sure since it feels...a little conceited to believe that a guy like that suddenly developed a genuine interest in you. You can think of a couple reasons he would hit on you, all of them to do with getting on Sukuna's last nerve in their never-ending rivalry.

But it's weird because it doesn't really feel like he's just messing around. As in, it doesn't seem like it's just for that reason.

You know Gojo. Not as close as Shoko or Getou might but enough to comfortably call yourself a distant friend. A little more than acquaintance but less then close.

He's facetious—melodramatic, really—totally by design. By necessity, some of it is an act, but you're good enough at reading him to know what's playful and what's not.

That's why you think that Gojo is really hitting on you. He's using the fact Sukuna, your...whatever, isn't here attending with you. He was supposed to be here but he flaked last minuted on coming with you. You ended up taking Yuuji and his friends though, anyhow.

You're letting him do it. He's serious about hitting on you, and he probably knows you're not very serious about returning his feelings.

But you're entertaining it, despite yourself.

Everyone you know is looking the other way while it happens too. Gojo is leaned close, sitting next to you in a plastic chair, and you're just a little bit buzzed. Humid summer air warms your skin, makes you want to sink into the night.

You're not touching, but you're too close for not-quite-friends. Gojo edges on touchy. A soft nudge here and there, the kind of proximity you shouldn't have. Gojo is a breath away, sober because he doesn't like alcohol.

And he's super friendly, which is nice.

A beat of silence settles between you as the night rolls in a little heavier.

Gojo says you what you assume he's been thinking about all night, without any real introduction.

"You should break up with him," He says, just over a can of soda with a kind of sincerity that makes you restless. You feel your nerves flip.

Your mouth moves before your mind has a chance to fill in the answer. You laugh. "I know."

"You're really too good for him, tsk," Gojo laments, clicking his teeth. Playful again, using just enough drawback so that you don't suffocate in the honesty. You shouldn't entertain this but the attention is nice. "And gosh, you're so much more fun without that dark cloud hanging around you, y'know"

You giggle unconsciously at the thought of Sukuna as a dark cloud. Big and broad with a deep voice—it's an astute comparison. Shaking your head, you give him a playful glance. "Am I really more fun? I feel like I'm not as good a conversationalist as a certain someone,"

Gojo smiles at you proudly. "I'm having fun at least."

You close your eyes and take another, much longer drink. "Yeah, me too."

"If you know you can do better, why bother with him? I figure that bastard might be holding you hostage but," He's serious again, brows raised. "You've got more options, you know?"

You shrug, absently. You don't know the answer yourself. It's one thing that Sukuna never quite lets you leave but it's another thing you come back to him every time. You settle on your reply with closed eyes then laugh a little too loud. Gojo doesn't startle.

"Who knows? But you know, thank you anyway. It's good to have options. Maybe it'll knock some sense into me,"

Friendly again. He's a nice guy you think.

"If it doesn't, make sure to give me a call. I'm pretty great too, y'know."

You give him a lighthearted smile.

It's hard to hear much over the loud thump of music. You're not very in touch with your surroundings and the pleasant air around you all but swallows you.

It takes you a minute. Longer than you care to admit, to realize that someone is approaching you. Even longer to realize who.

Sukuna is looming over you and Gojo when you finally look up.

"Having fun?"

You blink, pulling away to make sure you're hearing correctly. Sinking back into your chair, your eyes flicker up to whats casting shadow overhead. His voice almost bellows, deep and coarse but not loud.

"I thought you weren't coming," Is all you can think to say. Sukuna rolls his eyes.

"Yeah. I thought so too,"

He doesn't ask you to get up as much as he tugs you towards him. He's careful not to pull too hard but you come up still on a stumble, drink still in hand, and face in his chest. Your heart thumps, embarrassed by the sudden warmth. His hand sits on your lower back and suddenly there's a conversation happening overhead.

"Quit sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," He spits. He's talking to Gojo you realize.

"Be careful there, nii-san. You're gonna make it seem like you care."

Sukuna tenses under you before he relaxes again - rolling his eyes. He's not happy about it but you can hear that he's trying not to let it show.

"Stay out of it." Sukuna demands. Gojo whistles.

"Sure, sure. You two have fun there."

Sukuna turns you around like that, your face still in his chest as he drags you away. You hear Gojo laugh faintly as you walk further away from the crowd.

__

You don't really get any explanation from Sukuna as he packs you and himself in the backseat of his car.

He's quiet the entire walk there, and the air is so heavy your lungs can't find a breath around it. He doesn't say anything to you even as he opens the back door. He tells you to get in but doesn't show any emotion you discern.

Instead you end up laying in the backseat with Sukuna over you - cramped as his tongue slips all the way into your mouth and his hands grab your waist. All too sudden, without any ceremony at all.

You kiss back because he's being so suffocating and it's all you can think to do to appease him. As soon as he lets you breathe, you put a hand on his chest and push him away.

You make eye contact but he still hasn't said a word. "Are you mad?"

He sneers. "You tell me,"

He ducks down again to kiss you and you let him this time, doing your best to gauge what exactly he's thinking. You know he's upset, rather - but it's weird. Something is different about it.

His mouth is hot as he hands slide underneath your shirt further- his knees keeping your legs apart as his thigh presses against your clothed sex. You shiver, moaning into his mouth and Sukuna swallows the noise. Gasping, you pull back again.

"All you do is piss me off you brat," He tugs your lip back between his incisors as he speaks, voice bordering on a snarl. "You should know better than to cozy up to that idiot."

You squirm. "I wasn't cozying—"

"You think I'm fucking stupid? Think I don't got eyes to see with?" And then, like he's predicting your next question. "Yuuji texted me."

"And you came?" You stop, keeping him from going any further. "You came 'cause Yuu-chan sent you a picture of me and Gojo-kun....?"

He ignores your question. "Take your pants off,"

You make a face at him but oblige, hands unbuttoning your jeans as Sukuna practically tugs you out of them and your panties in one go. He sits back up on his legs and maneuvers carefully to keep his hands between your thighs. His middle finger runs through your slit, palm putting pressure on your clit.

He's rushing more than normal, mouth crushing yours again in a kiss so heavy it makes you gasp. You feel like you're imagining it but each time you pull back - his teeth sink into your lips until they're throbbing from how hard he's bitten them up.

He's possessive. Always has been. He's territorial over you in one way or another over everything, but it's usually only when you threaten to leave. There's a merit to what Gojo said about keeping you held down. But even in that, there's never any emotion stronger than annoyance to follow your little tantrums. You wouldn't call what you feel now desperation by any stretch.

But it's something more then simple possession and it makes you ache.

"I wasn't gonna do anything with him." You say half-way between a breath. You see his jaw tick with irritation at the mere thought. "It was just for fun—"

He quiets you with his fingers. With his hands, rough - spitting hard on your clit from where above making it splatter against your thighs. His fingers fingers the thick layer of spit and drag them down against your throbbing clit to make it wetter. He touches you hard and fast, places kisses against your jaw and collar before sinking his teeth into the clothed shape of your tits.

His fingers find your pussy not long after. Thick, scarred, intrusive - he slips them in one at a time. As much as he knows you can take until he touches that spot inside of you that leaves your whole body tingling. Knuckle deep, he presses his palms up against your clit to make sure you have the right friction. You moan his name loud, eyes rolling up into your head,

The windows are starting to fog.

"Sukuna,"

He grabs hold of your face with free hand, bordering on a snarl. It's mean you think, but more then that there's a genuine frustration to it that makes you shiver almost shamefully.

"You're mine." He sneers. You feel your cunt twitch unhelpfully at but Sukuna doesn't budge. Doesn't even go to make fun of you He just keeps growling, leaning in to kiss you - forcing his tongue into your mouth and pulling away again. "Get close with that bastard and I'll kill him."

Your stomach flutters in arousal at the aggression in it. The unreasonable, unhelpful, trained part of your brain nearly screams. He wants you, he wants you, he wants. It makes you wanna—

"G-gonna—gonna cum, fuck, Sukuna."

He kisses you again, murmuring against your lips. "Cum,"

Your thighs clamp around Sukuna's wrists as he continues to finger you, grinding yourself the edge of his palm as you ride out your high. Your voice pitches into a high whine, spine arching. It's rushed but intense, scratching the itch but not enough to tamp down the heat completely. You squirt around his fingers in a full blown gasp and find you can barely get your head above water.

You cum hard, convulsing. He doesn't move his hand until you grab him by the wrist and shake your head. Surprisingly, he listens easily and pulls away.

You pause and stare at him after you've caught your breath.

"What's wrong with you today?"

"Stay the fuck away from that guy."

You roll your eyes. "He's right. It's starting to sound like you love me or something. I wasn't gonna sleep with him anyway so chill out."

He scoffs. "Don't even fucking dream of it. I'd kill you both."

You take a second to look at him. You can't read him to save your life. But he's looking back at you, into you maybe, in a way that makes you wonder if there's something about him you're missing. You wrap your arms around his neck just to see if he'll tell you to stop clinging.

He doesn't though.

"Did you really come all the way here 'cause of what Yuu-chan sent you?"

He glares at you. "Are you deaf? Didn't I say that?"

"But then it sounds like you were jealous."

He rolls his eyes. "You're stupid."

"....You were jealous? Really?"

"Shut up already," He says. And maybe it's the alcohol but you swear his face goes warm. "And seriously stay away from that idiot. If I see some shit like that again I'm locking you in the house and chaining you to my bed."

"Weird proposal but okay."

"Dumbass."

"You love me,"

He rolls his eyes and goes to kiss you. Doesn't deny it, you notice. You pretend not to be giddy.

"Whatever."

✮ extended authors note ; hi!! i hope sukunas personality made sense here.

my point with sukuna in modern is that i think it takes away a lot of his unsavory aspects but the deep sense of possession and ownership sort of stays. this is a modern au so he's different from canon in many ways.

he has a hard time committing but he also does not do things he doesnt want to so him spending time with you and wanting your loyalty are both genuine desires. he understands why you're entertaining gojo's flirting and rationally knows it's unfair to want loyalty from you.

but he's into you so he gets. fucking pissed anyway. skjsjd. anyways i hope u liked it and i hope it made sense!! i just wanted to add this incase!!!

[ink-and-dagger]

do you have any silco x reader fic recs? both on ao3 and tumblr?

Oh boy do I.

I have zero time for reading these days (sob sob) so I'm sadly not at all familiar with any new fics post S2 being aired. But let me lay before you a sumptuous feast; lovingly prepared by the old guard of the Silco fucker society.

Reader's responsibility applies - please check tags etc etc..

Flawless - @a-gal-with-taste

An apt title, for Gal's writing is, indeed, flawless. Silco x Sex Worker!Reader. Absolutely brutal and beautiful - to me, Gal is the Angela Carter of the Silco fandom.

Here be Dragons // Hic Sunt Dracones - @sherwood-forests

This will always be one of my top recommends for a Silco x Reader fic. It's unlike anything else that I've seen in the fandom, and it reminds me of one of my favourite books Uprooted by Naomi Novik. Gives me the cosy feels.

Penance - @astudyincontrasts

Hands down the hottest, sexiest Silco fic in my opinion. If you enjoyed Fleabag or want to bang that priest from Midnight Mass then you need to get on this fic ASAP. To this day I cannot set foot in a church without getting horny. Thanks Study.

Secret Ingredient - @sweatandwoe

This is the Silco fic that made me want to write my own. DWM exists because of Sweaty. Domestic romance and drama of the absolute best kind.

Come Morning - @chickenparm

Parm has so many Silco fics and they are all incredible and required reading for the fandom. But I've chosen this one because it's so incredibly real and human, and will rip your heart to shreds.

Swapped - @silcoitus

I love seeing my blorbos in Situations™ and this is one hell of a Situation™ to find oneself in. Fun, funny, and full of tension. I get the pleasure of beta-reading this one, and I always have the best time squawking at Coi in the comments bar on google docs.

Go, Team! - @vasiktomis

This is actually Marcus x Reader x Silco and it's fucking genius. Vas is a genius and a pervert and I love them and they're my role model. Everyone absolutely has the right not to engage with content that they're not interested in but also if you don't read this fic then you're a coward.

Bend But Not Break - @constantfragmentation

This is a Jane Eyre retelling in the form of a Silco x Reader fic. Yeah that's right. Regency Silco. Emotional constipation cranked up to the max and coats with tails? Yes please. Ensure that you're near a fainting couch whilst reading because you will swoon.

Art in the Heart - @juniper-sunny

Juni was out here giving Young Revolutionary Silco his time in the spotlight long before he was ever animated. If you're a new to the fandom and have come here specifically because of young Silco then AITH is required reading. Head over to Juni's you'll be fed good.

To The Depths - @cognacandlilac

Full disclosure, I haven't actually had the chance to read this fic yet. But it has been on my TBR for an embarrassingly long time and every time I see a snippet I'm like "hot damn I need to get on this pronto" because I just know I'm going to be totally obsessed and consumed by it.

I've only picked one fic for each of the above but I would honestly recommend just tearing through the entirety of their fic lists because there are some absolute masterpieces in there. This is also far from an extensive list - there are so many incredible writers in the fandom and I'm so sorry for anyone I've missed off. I say this with my whole heart - the Silco fandom is easily one of the most talented and skilled corners of the internet. We may be fairly small in numbers compared to other characters/fandoms, but by God the art and stories we have are platinum quality.

[clandestineloki]

strawberry bliss (nsfw)

the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️

summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3

tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side

A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other

A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖

💕 hope you enjoy! 

===

"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"

Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.

"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.

You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way. 

"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "

"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"

"Let me through!"

"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"

"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."

He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"

"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"

"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.

"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."

"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"

"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."

"What?!"

"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.

"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.

"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."

"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."

"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."

Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "

"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"

He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."

"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"

It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.

"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"

"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.

"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"

" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."

"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?" 

Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.

"Please..." you whisper.

He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.

"Please what."

The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?" 

Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.

"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."

"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"

"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.

"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"

With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.

"Miguel..."

"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.

"Please hurry..." you gasp.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~" 

===

His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.

"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"

You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.

"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.

"S'too much..."

"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."

You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.

"Come for me baby," Miguel almost begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"

You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.

Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.

"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"

Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.

When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.

"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"

He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.

Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.

"Daddy..."

His wandering hands freeze.

He grins.

"What was that?" he teases.

Your breath stutters.

"What- I-"

He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.

"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.

"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"

Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.

"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."

Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.

"Say it again."

You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."

"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"

He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.

"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,

Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.

"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"

"Daddy..."

"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.

It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.

"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"

"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"

Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.

"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"

"Mhm..."

"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"

You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.

The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."

You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."

Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,

His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.

"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"

You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.

But you don't say no.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Suburban Sparks

Pairing: Javier Peña x Steve's Little Sister Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: What you think is another lame party hosted by your lame brother turns into an unforgettable night with the man you've had a crush on for the past eight years. Warnings: getting to fuck your teenage crush, smut, unprotected p in v sex (reader is on the pill and both are tested), oral f receiving, age gap (Javi's around 40, reader's in her twenties), almost getting caught by your big brother because Javier Peña is too good at oral, alcohol, green shirt muzzle, spot the "juno" by sabrina reference. Words: 6,150 Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Masterlist

 “Honey!” your mom happily exclaims from the kitchen table. “Stevey sent us mail!”

Stevey. Your brother’s currently hunting down one of the world’s most dangerous drug dealers and yet she still calls your older brother his childhood nickname. 

“Oh?” you feign interest as you take a seat and pour yourself a bowl of cereal. 

“Look how handsome he is here,” your mom says, holding up the photo. Yeah, okay, there’s your brother, he looks the same. But then, your eyes move to who’s standing next to him, and you almost spill the milk.

Standing next to him is the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Wow. He looks like a vintage model of a car, out of place in his tight jeans and yellow aviators, but cool in a classic way. You’ve never liked mustaches, and yet, it works on him. Tall and fit, with wide shoulders and a broad chest. Your fingers tingle at the thought of running them through his hair.

“Is that… Javier?” you ask, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“I’m sure it is,” your mom muses. "He's handsome isn’t he?”

“I guess,” you shrug, all of those acting classes you took in middle school sure have paid off now as you pretend to not be totally enamored with the man in the photo. 

Your mom chatters on about Steve's latest exploits, but you're only half-listening, you’re too busy thinking about Javier. You wonder what his voice sounds like, if his hands are as strong as they look, how his mustache would feel against your skin. 

You visit the photo album with the picture of Javier often. And on a day when you’re feeling particularly brave, you take the photo from the page. And then—rip. Stevey is gone, leaving Javier alone. You tuck the photo into your pocket before sliding it into your bedside drawer. 

Years pass, the photo of Javier still sits in the bottom of your bedside drawer, as if it’s almost a token of your girlhood, of your innocence, of your teenage dreams. It moves with you from crappy apartment to crappy apartment. Sure, it feels a little pathetic to hold on to the secret connection with a man you’ve never met, but a girl never forgets her first crush on an older man. 

Steve sometimes mentions him, bringing snippets of information about Javier. “Javi’s still chasing cartels,” he might casually say over dinner, making your heart skip a beat. Or, “Peña’s thinking about transferring back to the States,” and suddenly you think about actually meeting him.

You go to college, date a few people along the way—an artist named Adam, a burlesque dancer named Rachel, a fellow actor named Trevor. You even spend three solid years with Lincoln, the sensible guy your parents just loved… but none of them ever quite measured up to the mysterious DEA agent who exists only in sporadic mentions and that faded photo. 

Some nights, after a couple glasses of wine, you still pull out the photo and think about him. What is he like now? Does he still dress like his closet is from the decade prior? What makes him laugh? Does he laugh often? Does he hold anyone in his arms at night? What would it feel like to be in those strong arms? Scenarios dance through your head—maybe he visits Steve, or you randomly meet him at a coffee shop. In your mind, he always notices you, and always feels the exact pull you feel. A girl can dream, even when she’s an adult with a job and an apartment. 

Steve and you have always lived very different lives. While he was the star athlete in school, you avoided sports, choosing the stage instead. While he was hunting down Pablo Escobar and saving the world from the cocaine king, you were secretly learning how to grow marijuana plants in your closet hidden from your parents. While he’s happily married, settled down, and raising your niece, you’ve just broken up with Lincoln, because he wanted kids and a future you weren’t ready for. 

You climb into your beat-up car that you really only rely on to get to Steve’s house for his and Connie’s annual harvest bonfire. The world turns from narrow streets lined with brick buildings to wide roads with large homes and playgrounds. Buses and pedestrians are traded for SUV’s and minivans.  

Steve only lives twenty minutes away from your tiny apartment in the Adams Morgan section of DC. Your kitchen is the size of his closet. Whenever you take the drive to his perfect suburban home, you feel like you’re traveling to a different world, especially once you pull up to his house. His pristine suburban castle with a driveway bigger than your whole apartment, feels like a whole world away, not less than a half hour.

The wooden gate creaks as you push it open, the sound immediately catching Olivia’s attention.

“Auntie!” she shouts, running toward you with her arms flailing in excitement.

“Hey, Liv!” You hug her tight and kiss the top of her head as she giggles. 

“Hey kid!” Connie calls from the patio, making her way down the steps carrying two bottles of beer. 

“Evening. One of those for me?” you ask. 

“Nope, we had some help setting up,” she tilts her head towards the gazebo. Steve sits next to… Javier Peña. Crap. 

Suddenly, you're hyper-aware of your outfit: an oversized flannel thrown over a plain white tee, faded jeans, and your scuffed Doc Martens. You dressed for a lame party hosted by your brother, never thinking the man that used to star in all of your teenage fantasies would be here. 

Your heart races as you approach the gazebo and try to keep your cool. Javier's eyes meet yours, and for a moment you forget how to breathe. He's even more handsome in real life, his mustache is perfectly groomed with sideburns that frame his chiseled jaw. Fuck, he’s so much better than that ripped picture that lives in your bedside table drawer. 

"Hey sis," Steve calls out, breaking the spell. "This is Javier Peña, my old workmate in Colombia."

Yeah Steve—you know all about him. 

Javier offers a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes… you feel so intimidated. "Nice to meet you," he says, his voice low and gravelly.

You manage a nod, suddenly at a loss for words… something nobody would ever say about you. "Yeah, hi, nice to meet you too,” you respond darting your eyes every which way to avoid looking at him. 

His eyes stay locked on you, you notice a slight movement in his jaw as he looks you up and down. Your body heats at his assessment. 

Steve breaks the tension with his voice.” Javi had a job interview at the office today. We couldn't let him stay at some boring hotel, now could we?"

“Mighty kind of you,” Javi says, his eyes still on you. You nervously shuffle on your feet, at a loss of words, trying to not show your inner panic. 

Steve clears his throat, catching Javier’s attention. “Where’s Lincoln?” 

“Oh, yeah, we broke up,” you shrug, taking a seat across from Javier, trying to loosen your shoulders.

“What?!” Steve exclaims. “I liked him!”

You roll your eyes. "Well, I can give him your number if you’re that upset. He’s single now."

A small chuckle leaves Javier’s lips. 

BEEP. BEEP. Steve’s watch goes off and he checks it with a frown. "I gotta go take care of the chili. You two going to be alright?”

“Well manage,” Javier answers, leaning back into the chair.

Fuck, this is… this is something you used to dream about. Sitting across from Javier Peña, just the two of you. Except in those dreams you were a hell of a lot cooler, now you can barely look over at him, your focus remaining on the frayed edge of your plaid shirt.

The silence stretches between the two of you.

“So,” he says, breaking the tenseness, “you broke up with your boyfriend recently?”

You meet his gaze. “Yeah. He wanted kids, the whole future thing. I wasn’t into it.”

Javier nods, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "And what are you into?"

You swallow hard, feeling your cheeks burn hot under Javier's intense gaze. What the hell are you into? God, if he only knew the fantasies you've had about him over the years. That’s what you’re really into. You use your improv lessons to good use. 

“Surviving this lame suburban party hosted by my lame brother and his patient wife who’s way out of his league.”

Javier laughs. “Connie said I’d like you.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a bit bolder now that you’ve made him laugh twice. “And was she right?”

“According to Steve, she’s never wro—”

“Auntie!” Olivia’s excited voice interrupts as she barrels toward you. “Come see my new dollhouse! It’s soooo big!” She grabs at your hand, tugging with all her might.

“Sorry, Javier, I have important aunt things to take care of,” you say standing up and letting Olivia pull you toward the house.

The party is in full swing. Steve’s friends are all here, standing in little circles with their polished wives.

They regale each other with tales of their kids—who’s excelling at school, who got the karate trophy. Someone is getting new hardwood floors, someone’s leaving for Bermuda on Tuesday. It’s a far cry from your parties with your friends, watching cartoons, discussing war crimes, and smoking joints on the tiny fire escape.

You glance over at Javier who lingers near the edge of the firepit. He looks as out of place as you, standing quietly, arms folded, watching the crowd. He’s listening, but not engaging—you know he’s just as uninterested in these tales of suburban bliss as you are.

You catch his eye for a moment, he tugs the edge of mouth up in a knowing smirk, as if you’re both in on the same joke. Two outsiders in this picture perfect world.

Connie breezes by with a tray of appetizers, smiling warmly at everyone as she plays the perfect hostess. She’s good at this, making it all look easy. You do admire her for it, but it all feels so stifling to you. You take a long sip from your hot apple cider and bourbon, hoping the alcohol will help soothe all the thoughts of how you’re not part of this world. 

You lean against the patio railing, watching as one of Steve’s friends launches into yet another story about their perfect child and their achievements. Javier comes and stands beside you, his presence making you feel almost lightheaded. You take another drink.

“Not exactly our crowd, huh?” you ask under your breath, loud enough for only him to hear.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You could say that.”

You take another sip, glancing up at him. “Kind of feels like we’re in a brochure for suburbia, doesn’t it?”

Javier looks over at you, your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him glowing in the flicker of the orange flames. “Definitely.” 

“Think there’s a section on how to survive these kinds of things?”

He nods.

Another stretch of silence is shared between the two of you. Yours and his eyes observing all of the exploits of the perfect couples from afar.

Steve’s laughter echoes across the yard. “Hey! Peña, come on over here! This guy used to live near Laredo!”

Javier looks over at you and with an apologetic nod and walks towards Steve’s group with measured movements, like he’s already preparing to blend into the conversation.

The party begins to die down. You’ve been in a circle of conversation with Connie and a few of her friends. Connie’s warmth helps you fit in better, along with the warm apple cider and bourbon. You feel good and happy from all the spiked cider, like you can fit in a little more with Connie and her fellow perfect moms and wives. 

Your watch reads 11:45 when the last of Steve and Connie’s friends say goodbye. Javier helps Steve stack the chairs, you allow yourself to stare and watch the way his muscles flex beneath his shirt.  Taking drink after drink of your cider to try to quiet the want for him coursing through you.

"Hey, sis," Steve calls out, wandering over to where you're sitting on the edge of the deck. "You good to drive?" His blue eyes are red rimmed, he’s definitely had a good time tonight.

“Uh, no, not the best idea,” you shrug, suddenly feeling just how many drinks you had.

Connie appears at Steve's side, her arm wraps around his waist. She’s just as tipsy as your brother. "No worries, hun. You can stay in the guest room tonight. Though, Javier’s in your usual.”

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of staying under the same roof as him. You forgot he was staying here tonight. You nod, trying to not show the panic that’s inside you. "Thanks."

Steve yawns. "Well, I think it's time for bed. Long day, good party. You two gonna be okay out here?"

"We'll be fine," Javier says, his voice low.

Connie gives you a knowing look, a slight smirk playing on her lips. "Don't stay up too laaaaate," she sings. Steve’s oblivious, thankfully.

You watch as Steve and Connie make their way inside, arms wrapped around each other, giggling like teenagers. The sliding glass door closes behind them with a soft click, leaving you and Javier alone.

“You want to hang out?” He asks, nodding his head toward the low fire. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out. Is this a dream? 

You take a seat in a low adirondack chair, Javi chooses the one right next to you, not across, but next.

The fire crackles, casting a soft glow across Javier's face. You remind yourself to not turn your head and stare. 

"So," he says, turning to face you, his eyes roaming your face. "Tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

“Whatever you want to tell me.”

"Well, much to my parent’s chagrin,” you take a deep breath. “I don’t live the suburban dream like my brother," you say, gesturing towards the large house. "I've got a tiny apartment in DC. My neighbors are a bunch of college kids and starving artists like me.”

"Sounds more interesting than this," he nods.

“Never a dull moment,” you shrug, finishing the cup of cider. 

"And what do you do?"

"I do graphic design, mainly freelancing for nonprofits and small businesses in between what few acting jobs I can book. Struggling artist and actor is not nearly as important as a DEA agent,” you shrug. “But it pays the rent and keeps me creative… though mom and dad are still confused why I’d want to do something so pointless with my life."

“Still sounds like you’re making a difference.” He offers you his glass of straight whiskey he’s been slowly sipping all night. His dark eyes watch you take a drink, your body melting at the thought of your lips touching his. 

“I guess,” you shrug, handing the glass back to him. “It’s not like I’m changing the world or anything. Just helping make things look nice, you know?”

His eyes don’t leave you.

“Doesn’t sound so small to me,” he says quietly.

“Yeah, well, it’s definitely not as thrilling as what you and Steve used to do in Colombia. I can’t imagine going from hunting down drug lords to… whatever this is,” you say, gesturing to the pristine yard.

“When the job ends, you either pack up and leave or you’re left with the mess.” He turns to face the fire, his eyes are distant, like he’s somewhere else entirely.

You hum in agreement, wondering what type of memories he carries with him.

“But I can see why your brother’s settled into this. It’s simple. Predictable.”

“Boring,” you add with a smirk.

“Yeah,” he agrees, with a half smile. “Boring.”

“So, all of this doesn’t appeal to you? The beautiful lawn, the beautiful wife, the picket fence? Seems like something every man wants.”

“Not everyone does,” he says after a pause.

"Yeah?” You tilt your head, curious.

“I used to think about it. But it never worked out that way. My job… didn’t leave much room for anything else.”

You give him a soft smile and nod. The silence floats through the air as the fire dies down.

“Maybe if the right person shows up…” he softly murmurs, finishing his glass of whiskey. 

You stifle a yawn.

"Getting late," Javier observes. "We should probably head inside."

You nod, suddenly aware of how tired you are. The fire has died down to glowing embers, the late night air turns chillier. You stand, swaying slightly as the effects of the apple cider and bourbon hit you.

"Whoa there," Javier says, his hand reaching out to steady you. His touch sends a jolt through your body.

"I'm fine," you insist, even as you lean into his warmth. "Just need some water."

He closely follows you into the house. The kitchen is dark, illuminated only by a night light plugged into the wall. 

"Glasses?" Javier asks.

"Um, top cabinet, I think.”

He grabs two glasses and fills them with water from the tap, handing one to you.

"Thanks," you murmur, taking a long sip. You lean against the counter, Javi stands in front of you. Somehow, Steve’s large kitchen now feels entirely too small, being in the presence of Javier’s wide shoulders and handsome face makes it hard to breathe.

“So,” you say, licking the water off your lips. “Your interview go well today?”

He nods, his eyes stay on your mouth. "Yeah. Don’t know what to think of it."

"Having second thoughts?"

He shrugs, his broad shoulders moving under his shirt. "Maybe. It's a desk job. Feels... strange after everything."

You nod, understanding. "Must be hard to go from all that excitement to pushing papers."

"It's... I don't know if I’ll be able to fit in that world."

"I know. Sometimes I look at Steve's life and wonder how we came from the same parents. Like we came from the same place, but I took a left turn while he took a right." His eyes meet yours, a spark of recognition passing between you. "So, if not a desk job, what do you want?"

He takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm not sure," he admits. "But I know it's not this." You understand exactly what he’s saying… the house, the neighborhood, the whole suburban lifestyle.

You swallow hard, your heart racing. "And what about right now? What do you want right now?"

You feel like you might burn up in flames under the heat of his eyes. Slowly and deliberately, he sets his glass down on the counter and moves to stand in front of you, his broad body casting you in complete darkness, blocking the dim glow of the night light. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb traces your lips.

"You," Javier murmurs, his eyes planted on your lips. "Right now, I want you."

You blink, unbelieving at the words you just heard. For years, you’ve dreamed of this. Imagined what it’d feel like to be touched by him, the sound of his voice. And now, it’s real. You expect to wake. 

"Javier," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. "I—"

He doesn’t allow you to finish your thought, his lips seal over yours with a soft, hesitant kiss… like he knows he’s in his friend’s kitchen kissing his little sister. But when you wrap your arms around his neck, pull him closer and open your mouth, he softly groans as his tongue licks against yours.

His hands move to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pushes you back against the counter. The cool tile edge digs into your lower back.

He trails his lips along your jawline, down to your neck. A soft moan escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“Shh,” he soothes against your skin, his hot breath and mustache sends shivers down your spine.

You nod, biting your lip to keep quiet as his hands roam your body..

His fingers trace patterns on your bare skin when he slides his hands under your flannel and up your shirt. You shiver at his touch, desire pooling low in your belly. His lips find yours again, the kiss deeper and more urgent now.

A sudden creek from upstairs alerts the two of you. You both freeze, lips still barely touching, breath mingling between you.

He pulls back slightly, eyes dark and conflicted. Your chests rise and fall rapidly.

"We can't," he whispers, voice rough with regret. "You’re–you’re Steve’s little sister."

You nod, understanding and disappointed.

He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes rounded in guilt. "I shouldn't have—"

"No," you interrupt, shaking your head. "Don't apologize. I wanted it too." 

You’ve wanted it for years.

A tense silence falls between you. You can feel the ghost of his lips on yours and his hands on you.

"I should go to bed," you say finally, breaking the silence. "It's late."

Javier nods, his jaw clenching slightly. "Yeah, me too."

You make your way to the stairs, Javier following close behind.

“Well,” you lean against the threshold of your temporary room, with your hand on the doorknob. “Goodnight Javi.”

He runs his tongue across his teeth, sending you a lascivious wink. “Sweet dreams, bonita.” He glances down the hall, towards Steve and Connie’s room. 

Your fingers tighten around the doorknob, knowing once you turn it and open the door, the night will end. All you have to do is just take one step toward him and live out your teenage dream. With one last look at him, standing broad and tall in front of you, his lips agape, with his handsome jaw tense, you turn the knob and step into the room, shutting the door on your wildest fantasy coming true.

You toss and turn in bed, overheated by the kiss, feeling the touch of Javier imprinted on your skin. You stop yourself from getting out of bed and tip toeing to Javier’s door multiple times. You’re driving yourself cra—

A soft succession of knocks tap against your door.

God, it better be him. 

You delicately tip toe over to the door and open it. 

The door creaks open just enough, a blur of green sweeps in. His lips crash into yours, his tongue sliding deep into your mouth as he gently nudges the door closed. 

He pulls back, his eyes heavy, roaming your panting, frenzied face. 

“You gotta be quiet, I can only do this if you promise to be quiet.” 

You nod, your eyes blinking wide. 

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrow tilting up. 

“Y-yes,” you whimper, his big arm wrapped around you tight, your hands clasping the soft olive green cotton of his shirt. 

He nods, sealing his mouth over yours. Your tongue responds to his, tasting the mint of his toothpaste, feeling the bristle of his thick mustache against your skin. He leads you to the bed, his lips not leaving yours as he lays you down against the dark blue sheets and climbs over you. He lays atop you, his broad body encompassing you underneath all of his silent strength. His knee parts your legs, a large hand running up the smooth skin of your thigh, pushing up the fabric of your night shirt.

Your back arch/es, chest pressing against his when he kisses his way down to your neck, gently nipping at it as his thumb traces the seam of your panties. 

“Javi,” you whisper, your fingers weaving through the soft strands of his hair. 

He glances up, his dark brown eyes staring into yours. Your mouth is agape, panting for air, already too overwhelmed by his attention. 

“Please,” is all you can muster. Your teenage dream is here in this bed with you, bunching your shirt up against your neck and tilting his head down to suck a nipple into his mouth. He nibbles and slides his tongue across your chest, flicking it against the sensitive peaks, winding you tight. 

Your hands loosen their hold of his hair the farther he kisses down your body. He kneels between your legs, lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. His skin looks golden in this light, he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

His hand sweeps down your body, your hips instinctively lifting for him to peel your panties off, leaving you naked and ready for him in whatever way he’ll take you. 

He watches you with a cocky smirk tremble underneath his watch, too blissed out to stay still. He’s barely touched you and you’re already totally disheveled, you can tell he likes it. 

He breathes in your scent when he settles between your widespread legs, straining to fit his large shoulders between them. 

He spreads you wide, tongue darting out, swiping across his plush top lip as he watches his fingers explore your dripping cunt. 

His nose taps against your slick before his mouth engulfs you, his tongue painting you like a masterpiece.

A gasp and a moan escape your throat at the sweetness of his lips where you need him the most. His hand grips your thigh tight as a stern shush. 

“S-sorry,” you whisper, placing your palm against your mouth. 

Your DEA agent brother is just a room down the hall away. His good friend and ex work buddy’s lips are currently kissing and sucking your clit.

His tongue swirls around the wetness you’ve gushed out for him. Your head thuds against the pillow, teeth biting into your lips to keep you from moaning. It doesn’t work, a long “fuuuck” leaves your mouth. Javi unseals his mouth from you, wide brown eyes under furrowed, thick eyebrows give you a stern look, his mustache and mouth glistening with your wet. “My shirt,” he nods towards the crumpled up ball of green laying next to your head. “Use it,” he instructs, before dipping back into between your legs. 

You grasp the shirt, stuffing the fabric in your mouth, breathing a sigh of relief at the extra layer of protection protecting you and Javier’s secret escapade. He’s now all over you, the taste of the beer left on his tongue still in your mouth, the feel of his tongue against your aching core, the sight of his dark hair between your thighs, the sound of his throat letting a low moan out against your cunt, the smell of him leftover on the shirt that now acts as a muzzle. 

The bed squeaks as you begin canting your hips against him. A firm hand pushes down on your stomach, holding you in place, Javier’s mouth digging deeper in between your legs. 

His shirt muffles your whimpers and cries, and when he sticks a finger into your entrance, you bite down on the soft cotton, tears springing in your eyes at the maddening frustration of staying quiet. 

The shirt does little to muffle the sob you choke out when he adds a second finger, curling them inside you with expert precision. Your thighs tremble as you teeter on the edge. Javi's tongue flicks relentlessly against your clit, his fingers pumping in and out at a merciless pace. 

You knew it, he’d be so fucking good at this.

You're so close, teetering on the precipice of an earth shattering orgasm. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as your back arches off the bed. The shirt in your mouth barely muffles your desperate whimpers.

Suddenly, a loud creak echoes from the hallway. Footsteps. Steve.

Javi freezes, his eyes darting up to meet yours. You both hold your breath, your hearts pounding. Javier’s mouth stays planted against your cunt, his fingers lay still inside you. The footsteps pause outside your door for what feels like forever.

You can feel Javi’s breaths against your overheated core as he stays perfectly still. 

A gentle knock on the door makes your heart leap into your throat. 

“Hey, you awake?” Steve’s quiet voice comes through the door.

Javi’s eyes widen in panic. The bed creaks as gently extracts his fingers from inside you and pulls away, rubbing the slick of you off his chin onto your thigh. The bed creaks again, when he slowly lifts up.

You have to respond now. Shit.

You pull down the shirt. Mocking a loud yawn. “Yeah… I’m fine,” you manage. “Just–-uh–had a weird dream I think.’”

Your heart pounds against your chest while you wait for a response. Javi stays perfectly still, his eyes locked on the door. 

“Alright,” he says finally. “Sleep well. G’night.”

“Good night,” you mumble. 

His footsteps retreat down the hall, your head thuds against the bed with relief. Javi remains frozen, barely breathing until you hear the creak of Steve’s door opening and closing. 

Javi’s eyes meet yours, he smirks at you mischievously with a raised eyebrow, his silent question asking if you want to continue. 

You nod, spreading your legs wider for him. A lascivious smile spreads across his face before he dips his head back down, his tongue finding your clit.

His fingers slide back into you as his tongue swirls around your sensitive nub. You grab his shirt and stick it back in your mouth, biting hard and muffling the whimpers. He works you back up with perfect precision. 

And when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot, you’re gone. 

Your orgasm crashes over you, back arching off the bed, thighs clamping around his head as you writhe against his mouth. You can’t be loud, you must stay quiet.

His mouth doesn’t let up, licking and drawing out your climax, drinking down all that you offer him. Your nose huffs loudly, breathing in and out rapidly trying to catch your breath as the aftershocks subside. 

He kisses your thigh, the bristle of his mustache tickles your sensitive flesh. He slowly licks and kisses his way up your body before he gently tugs his shirt from your mouth, replacing it with his lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands roam all over his smooth, broad shoulders feeling the firm muscles that lie underneath his soft skin. 

“Javi?” you moan against his lips. 

“Yeah?” he asks, pulling away. 

You can feel the hardness of him pressed against your thigh, still covered by the soft fabric of his grey sweatpants.

You’ve wanted him for years, and now’s your chance, here in the guest bedroom of your brother’s white picket fence surrounded home. 

“Will you fuck me?” you ask, before licking a line across his top lip. 

He groans, dropping his forehead against yours. “Yes, but, you gotta be real fuckin’ quiet, okay?”

“Promise,” you whisper. "I'm... clean and on the pill. Javi... can I feel you?"

He rises up to hover over you. "Fuck... yes baby,” he growls.

You watch with your mouth agape, your legs spread wide and waiting, as he quickly shimmies out of his sweatpants.

He's thick and hard, the tip glistening with precum. His smooth body lays atop you, smothering you with his firm weight. 

He positions himself between your legs, the tip of his cock teases your entrance before he slowly enters you. Oh, his wide cock stretches you divinely. 

Your lip begins to hurt from biting down on it so hard, trying to keep quiet. He seals his mouth over yours, swallowing down your cries and moans as his hips roll against yours. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him into you deeper. 

The bed creaks with the controlled power of each of his thrusts. You pray your brother can’t hear. 

Javi steadies his thrusts, trying to keep quiet, the tension radiating off of him. He buries his face into your neck, his sharp nose pressing against your skin there. You can tell he wants to pound into your cunt, rattle the bed against the wall, take everything he can from your accepting pussy.

Your hands run down his back, feeling the flex of his muscles slick with sweat.

A moan escapes your mouth when he slowly pulls out before thrusting all of his length into you. 

“Shh pretty girl, shhh,” he whispers. Balling up the edge of his shirt and sticking it into your mouth. 

His eyes darken when you stare up at him, wide eyed with the bundle of green fabric muzzling your mouth. 

He licks his way up your neck to your ear. He whispers “Fuck, you feel so good,” into your ear, his hot breath hitting against your skin. You whimper around his shirt at his words and his thick cock stretching you, hitting the spot you want him to hit the most with each thrust. 

You pull the shirt out of your mouth. “Javi,” you breathe, “I’m close.” He nods. His hand snakes between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing tight circles.

It’s too much. You pull him down closer to you, burying your face in his neck to muffle your moans as you come undone all over his cock. 

“That’s it,” he whispers, gritting his teeth as you pulse around and squeeze his cock. He slows his thrusts, letting you catch your breath as your blissed out body recovers. He kisses you sweetly. “You good?” he asks.

You nod, eyes heavy and body loose from your orgasm. You still want more. “More,” you manage to whisper.

He growls, suddenly pulling out and flipping you onto your stomach. 

“On your knees,” he snarls, his large hands guide your hips up. 

You comply, arching your back, presenting your overworked and wet cunt to him. He runs his hand over the curve of your ass before gripping your hips. He thrusts inside you, the coarse curls around the base of length soaking with the remnants of your orgasm. 

He’s so fucking deep, his hips setting a pace slapping against the flesh of your ass. 

“I know, I know,” he mutters softly. “You need to be quiet.” 

You reach forward, grabbing his shirt and bringing it to your mouth to bite down hard on as he pounds into you from behind. 

He grips your hips tighter, his thick fingers digging into your flesh with each thrust. His heavy breathing pants into the air, the bed creaks loudly underneath his force. 

He slides in and out, your sensitive cunt feels every inch of him. 

He leans over you, his chest searing against your back. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “You’re taking my cock so good, aren’t you? So fucking tight and wet.”

You push your back further against him, telling him to take all that he can from you. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” he pants. “Such a good fucking pussy, going to cum all over you.”

You turn your head, letting go of the shirt from your mouth. “Cum for me Javi,” you whisper. 

He nods, pulling out of your slick, and with a low groan, his white ropes of cum marks his territory all over your ass. You hope you'll forever feel the gentle taps of it against your skin as he empties himself.

“Fuck,” he pants, before rising from the bed and wiping the sweat off his brow. You collapse on the bed, your overworked limbs welcoming the softness of the mattress. He grabs his shirt, wiping it across himself before he cleans your skin with it. “Be right back back,” he whispers as he puts his sweatpants on. 

You nod, watching him softly open the door and looking down the hall checking to make sure it’s safe. The soft click of the door leaves you alone with your racing thoughts. Remnants of Javier Peña’s cum lays on your skin… almost ten years after seeing that first photo of him. 

He walks back in with a damp towel. “Spread for me,” he whispers. You obey, welcoming the warmth of the water against your overworked core. His touch is gentle against you.

“Do you know what time your brother usually gets up?”

“Usually around seven,” you answer, your eyes already growing heavy.

He nods, glancing down as he sets an alarm on his watch. "I’ll set my alarm for 6:45."

Before you can ask why, surprised that he’s staying, he pulls off his sweatpants and slips into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Good night Javi,” you sigh.

“Sweet dreams bonita.”

The alarm blares at 8:30, you groan, rolling over in the now empty bed. Hold on–did...was? You’re pretty sure you just dreamed the most vivid Javier Peña fantasy you’ve ever had… because that couldn’t have been real… until you see the bundled up green shirt laying next to you. 

[luveline]

Ahh I’m so obsessed with stripper!reader and Spencer!! Do you have any more thoughts about them you’d be willing to share, maybe just a snippet of their life together? So so in love with them and your writing in general

i got a different request for them that I lost about reader struggling to afford essentials and so I thought I’d combine them, I hope that’s ok!! <;3 fem, 1.1k

cw food insecurity/ poverty 

You attempt to save money, but the ten dollars you don't spend on shampoo and conditioner gets used on painkillers. You hide fifty dollars in a book and try to forget about it, but your shoes split open on the walk to work, and it takes all afternoon to find it again. You try so hard to stretch your paycheck and something new makes it impossible. 

So it's a cold night in late December and you spent all your money for food on the gas bill. Your stomach hurts, but at least your nose isn't that horrible stiff cold that distracts. 

It's not just that your stomach hurts, though. You feel miserable about everything, and you know you need to ask someone for help. You've thought about selling something, but you already pawned your watch, and everything else is inconsequential. 

I could sell my phone… but how would I talk to Spencer? 

It's the stupidest thought you could've had. More importantly, how would you communicate with work? How would you call your electric and gas company, or talk to your landlord? 

Spencer would be so sad if he knew you’d sold your phone to pay for food. He’d probably be upset knowing you considered it. And you won’t get paid for another three days, so unless you can somehow live off of olives and cherries from the club bar, you have to ask Spencer for money or get a loan. With your credit score, one situation is more likely than the other. 

You bring your phone across the pillow and sigh before clicking on his contact. He’s practically the only number you call. 

“Hello?” you ask. 

“Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hello, handsome,” you murmur, staging an affect of someone who couldn’t be more unbothered by the world. 

“Yeah, hi. You okay?” 

You don’t want to butter him up. It feels dishonest. You should be straight forward. “Spencer. You know I hate asking you for things.” 

“Yes, it’s the only bad thing about you.” He sounds like he’s smiling. You can imagine him on his couch reading something obscure, or watching one of his sci-fi shows, curls in his eyes, grey pyjamas too short for him riding up his calves as they tend to do.

“But I need– um. I don’t have any money?” You don’t mean to phrase it like a question. “Like. Okay, so, I promise you I am not an irresponsible person, just, my gas bill went up and I didn’t know, but it’s so cold I paid it anyways, and now I have three dollars. Um. Total. And I haven’t eaten all day and I’m sorry I’m asking, but I just need like twenty dollars until I get paid on Tuesday. Could you let me borrow twenty dollars, please?” 

“Do you want to get takeout?” 

You cringe. “No, like, twenty dollars for groceries, Spence.” 

“No, I understood. That’s fine, I’ll happily give you twenty dollars. But you said you haven’t eaten today? And I miss you, so it’s an excuse?” Now he’s the one making questions out of statements. “I can get us Thai food.” 

Your stomach pangs at the thought. No matter how much you hate this, you know he loves you enough to want to bring you dinner, and you really will pay him back, so he might as well. “Yeah, please. I’d love to see you, Dr. Reid.”

“I’ll be quick,” he promises. 

He isn’t. You wonder if he’s forgotten you and your rumbling stomach, curled into a c-shape under the sheets. It’s warm, at least, nearly too warm, the blade of your hunger threatening to drive you mad. It’s not a nice feeling, depending on the kindness of a friend to see you through, nor is it very pleasant to be this hungry. You’ve gone hungry a hundred times, and this is the only time you’ve ever had someone you trusted enough to turn to during that time to ask for help. What if Spencer’s decided he isn’t comfortable with your lending after all and he doesn’t come over tonight? 

You’d been looking forward to seeing him again. It’s almost worse than the hunger. 

Just as you’re thinking he’s decided he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore, he lets himself in. 

Your apartment is small, consisting of three rooms. The bedroom, the bathroom, and the living room kitchen combination. He lets himself into the living room with a cacophony of rustling and a called, “Hello!” followed soon by a muttered swear. 

You laugh under your breath.

“Are you coming out here, or do you want to eat dinner in bed?” he asks. 

“I haven’t decided yet.” 

It’s quiet enough besides his arrival that you’ve no need to shout.

“Well, stay there if you want. Have you been drinking anything? I brought iced tea and some stuff for you to have breakfast tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” You force yourself to sit up. One moment you’re looking at the closed door and the next you’re squinting against the light of the kitchen, Spencer in the doorway like a silhouette against it. “Hey, Spence. You’re taller than last time.” 

“I’m the same size as always.”

“You’re still wearing your shoes. That must be it.” 

Spencer takes off his shoes and crosses the short distance to you. “Hi,” he says, taking your hand as he sits down. His fingers are freezing. “Sorry I took a while.”

“Sorry for asking you for money.” 

“It’s okay. It’s not something to worry about. Everyone has to ask a favour sometime.” 

His hair is wind blown, his eyes watery. The cold weather has nipped his pert nose a rosy pink and he’s smiling at you with chapped lips, unaware of or uncaring about his own circumstances in the face of yours. “You okay?” he asks, his pretty brown eyes narrowing, eyebrows pinching together at the starts. “You can’t just not eat all day and not tell me.”

You nod tightly. It’s humiliating to be in this position. 

He softens. “Did they tell you the rate was rising? It’s illegal in Virginia–”

You take your hand from his. “They sent me a letter I didn’t open. I knew it would be bad news.” 

Spencer looks down at your knees. “I know that you’re used to doing things by yourself, but you don’t have to anymore.”

“‘Cos you look after me,” you say quietly. 

“I’m trying to.” 

You laugh and jog your joined hands to make him look up. “Okay. Look after me some more then and give me a hug. I’m too warm, and you’re freezing.” 

He hugs you tightly, quick to rub your shoulder blade with his thumb. “Stay here, okay? I’ll bring you a plate.” 

You cling to him for a few seconds, until hunger wins, and you send him off into the kitchen again. 

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day twenty nine

prompt: alpha pairing: lando/oscar a/n: snippet from the pregnant lando fic i'm writing, which TOTALLY ocunts for this prompt because it has alpha!oscar lmao

Life is so much better wrapped up in the buttery soft fabric of Oscar’s hoodie. Lando gets through three other admittedly boring meetings and an hour long conversation with Zak without any more bouts of nausea, although by the end of it he does feel exhausted, and his chest has this itchy painful feeling that’s getting really hard to ignore.

He contemplates just going home, but it’s not like there’s anything waiting for him there, so he holes himself up in one of the tiny flexible workspaces that are dotted around the MTC, and opens his laptop to stare mindlessly at some stuff the PR team asked him to look at.

Here’s the thing he did not consider. The flexible workspace area is pretty open plan. So if anyone were to walk by, they could see Lando sitting there quite easily. Anyone, really. Someone like, well. Oscar, for example.

“Uh,” Oscar says, roughly three meters away from Lando’s little table. “I, uh. Lando?”

Lando looks up from his laptop, dropping the hoodie string he’d been chewing on from his mouth. “Oscar, hey. ‘Sup?”

Oscar, meanwhile, is just kind of staring at Lando, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “You, uh. The uh,” he starts. Lando needs to have a talk with management, later. Clearly they’re overworking Oscar, based on the way he’s spacing out right now. “Hoodie?” Oscar eventually manages to stutter out.

Lando’s blood turns cold as he suddenly realizes what the problem is. The hoodie. He’s still wearing Oscar’s hoodie. Oscar was never meant to find out, but now he definitely has, with the way he’s staring at Lando like he’s some kind of alien. “Fuck,” Lando says, frantically wedging himself from behind the table. The second he comes closer to Oscar, Oscar takes a step back, takes a deep breath in through his mouth. “Fuck I am so sorry, it was just-“

And yeah. How is he going to explain this one? He can just lie and say he was cold, but then why. Why would he grab Oscar’s hoodie and not one of the million McLaren hoodies readily available? Besides, does he really want to lie to Oscar? Oscar, who’s never been anything but honest with him, has always treated him with kindness?

“Fuck,” Lando says again, “Really, this is. This is very embarrassing for me, actually, but uh. Your scent? It kind of helps? With the uh… Nausea and shit. I realized yesterday, when you helped me when I was puking and so uh. The hoodie was just there and I… Well. But you can have it back? Here let me-“

“Don’t,” Oscar says, almost like it gets ripped out of him, the second Lando tries to wrestle his arm out of one of the hoodie sleeves. “You don’t. You can keep it on. If it helps.”

He’s bright red, not making any eye contact with Lando, clearly uncomfortable, but. But he said. If he didn’t want Lando to wear his hoodie he would…. Right?

Lando tucks his arm back into the sleeve. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “This is like, super weird.”

Oscar shakes his head. “It’s fine. I know smells can be like, weird, when you’re pregnant, so it’s… I get it.”

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #45 - Showerhead]

"When you and Jungkook get each other off with a showerhead."

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: the cozy small town vibes we all love TCT for <3, Kookie being a sexy tattoo artist, he's a tired bean as is OC, a cozy night in with burgers from Seokjin's diner, Bam being the cutest dog, the next warnings are for smut: this is kinda a quickie, there's no specific roles just a married couple having some sexy time to let off some steam, they had a lil bit of a stressful day and relax this way, shower sex, making out, naked grinding, some grinding on his thigh, they use the showerhead on each other to make each other cum, Jungkook being wet and hot, sexy communication, dirty talk, praise, size & strength kink, squirting, giggly aftercare, this is the kinda sex you can only have with someone you know well and love dearly, they're so in love you guys :(, *shrivels up* the domestic comfort *implodes*

Wordcount: 5.3k

a/n: my explanation for this? i love this universe, i love this couple, i love their bond. enjoy besties 🧡

“Hey there.”

Seokjin lifts his head from the receipts he was sorting through. His eyes light up instantly, an adoring smile curls his lips.

“___! Yooo, you’re here”, he hollers and leaves his place behind the counter with stretched open arms.

You fall into the hug, letting out a little giggle because you’re really happy to see him.

“I am. Today was stressful as fuck though”, you say.

“Yeah? Busy day at the restaurant?”

“One could say that, yeah”, you say and break the hug, “how was your day?”

“Stressful as well. I don’t know why people were so hungry today, but it’s only just calmed down.”

You scan your eyes over the familiar diner. Seven of the twenty three tables are occupied. You shake your head in comradery knowledge and look back at Seokjin.

“I think it’s the weather. People like eating out when it’s cloudy.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Speaking of food, I’ve got your burgers in the back”, he says and turns to leave.

“You’re a fucking saviour, you know?”

“Tell me once I’m back”, he calls out and disappears in the kitchen.

He reappears again after a few seconds, carrying a paper bag with your order.

“Here you go. Two deluxe beef burgers with extra bacon for Kook and lots of sauce for you.”

“And two servings of chilli cheese fries.”

“Of course, with extra cheese because it’s you.”

“Dude, I seriously love you. You saved our evening. I feel too tired to cook and I know Kook’s gonna wanna lie down the moment he’s home.”

“Where is he? Still at the studio?”

“Yeah, till eight. He’s got a full back tattoo to finish. He’s been at it since nine.”

“Geez, whoever is getting the tattoo is either insane or has lost all feeling in their nerves ‘cause a full back tattoo for elven hours is fucking mental.”

“Right? Dude, when Kook did the snake on my shoulder blade?” you turn your shoulder to him, pointing at it even if currently your biker jacket is keeping it hidden.

“Yeah?”

“I cursed at him multiple times. Not ‘cause I wanted to, but ‘cause it happened on instinct. It hurt like a fucking bitch.”

Seokjin laughs, “I know how you feel. My back tattoo experience still haunts me.”

“Didn’t you curse at him too?”

“I think I might have even threatened his life at one point.”

You and he laugh.

“Totally understandable”, you joke.

“Yeah, ah funny”, Seokjin says and walks behind the counter again.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Please, it’s on the house.”

“I hate it when you do that. How much do I owe you?”

“It’s fine, dude. Just bring me some of those parmesan rind balls you’re serving at the restaurant and we’re even.”

You roll your eyes and place the correct amount of money on the counter.

“Good thing I worked here for years”, you say and turn your back to Seokjin to strut off.

“I should change the prices, seriously”, Seokjin jokes as he looks at you, reaching for the money you left.

You snicker, turning in the doorway, “see you at Tae’s and Hobi’s on Saturday?”

“Of course. I’ve been looking forward to DnD night all week. Namjoon keeps talking about how much fun being DM is. He says this session will be unlike any before.”

“He always says that and then they never disappoint.”

“Seriously”, Seokjin agrees, “and Jimin was here this morning and said that Yoongi will bring apple pie.”

“Seriously? Oh my god, mhhm”, you groan, “I’m so excited, dude.”

“Me too”, Seokjin says and lifts his hand for a wave, “drive safely, ___.”

“Thank you. You too, Seokjin”, you say and turn to leave.

You store your dinner in the safety compartment on your bike and put your helmet on. You fix your gloves and then finally sit down on your bike to drive off. The smell of warm concrete tickles your nose as you cruise through the familiar streets. The diner soon disappears behind you and Hoseok’s garage appears to your right. You slow down to see if you can spot him. You can. He is working outside. He lifts his head at the sound of your bike and stands up, lifting his hand to wave at you. You wave back at him, slowing down your bike because luckily for you, the lights turned red. You open your visor.

“Yoongi brings apple pie on Saturday!” you call out loudly over the rumbling of your bike and also to bridge the distance.

“Dude, that’s fucking awesome!” Hoseok calls back, making a funnel with his hands to be louder, “driving home?”

“Yeah! I got burgers at Jin’s!”

“Nice! Enjoy them!”

“I will!”

The lights turn green again.

“See you Saturday!” you yell happily and close your visor to drive off.

Hoseok gives you a wave with both of his hands, swaying his hips from side to side to really get his excitement across. You laugh in fondness, giving him a wave until a turn to your left, naturally forces both your hands back onto the handles so you could take it safely.

The denser inner town soon disappears behind you as the road takes you along the coast. You pass Jimin’s and Yoongi’s house on tonight’s route. The lights in the street facing rooms are turned off, but you can spot the garden lights being on. You sound your horn as you pass them, knowing that they will know that it was you greeting them. Then you speed up, leaning into it. The road allows you to do so safely and there is nothing better than feeling the warm night air on your skin. Today is a good day. Even if it was stressful, the small moments of familiarity and good friendship were already enough to make it a good day.

Bam waits for you by the garage door, containing his excitement by sneezing repeatedly and tippy-tapping with his hind legs.

“Hello there Bamie, how was your day?” you greet him in a squeaky voice.

Bam huffs out air, shaking his head.

“That’s good to hear. I had a stressful day, but I got burgers”, you say and walk off to the kitchen. Bam follows next to you, sniffling at the bag, “it’s not for you, you greedy boy”, you laugh, moving it higher so he can’t reach it anymore, “don’t worry, mommy’s gonna feed you right away”, you say and open the fridge, “are you hungry, baby?”

You and Jungkook started a new diet with Bam after consulting with your trusty vet. It consists of raw, fresh meats, vegetables, fish and eggs presented in a bowl which makes him work for the food so he gets mental stimulation out of it as well. He even gets some berries and the most delicious unsalted bone broth to wash it down with. Truly, your little doggy son eats like royalty with you. You swear that ever since you started his diet, his fur glowed more and his poops smell better.

Bam waits by your feet with his tail wagging excitedly, looking up at you with big eyes.

“Almost done, baby. Wow, you can’t even imagine how stressful today was. I had to run around so much, my feet hurt”, you say and pick up the filled bowl to carry it to Bam’s feeding station.

The Doberman follows you and sits down in perfect position instantly. Just like you and Jungkook have trained him.

“Good boy”, you praise him, “turn.”

Bam follows.

“Sit.”

Bam follows.

“Good boy. Wait.”

Bam follows, watching you put his food bowl into the mount. You straighten up. Bam looks up at you.

“Wait.”

He doesn’t move.

“Wait.”

He doesn’t move.

“Release.”

Bam finally moves and jumps up to begin eating his food. You give him a little pet on his back.

“Good boy. There we go, enjoy your food.”

You give him his space afterwards, leaving the kitchen to change into comfortable clothes and wash your hands. You are in the hallways leading to the stairs when Jungkook comes home.

“Sweetie! I’m home!”

“Hellooo”, you coo, jogging down the stairs and meeting Jungkook at the end of them. You stay on the last step, hooking your arms behind his head to pull him into a kiss. He has to tilt his head up for it, wrapping his arms around your waist, “mwuah”, you end the kiss, giving him a happy scrunch of your face.

He retorts it, hugging you.

“How was your day?”  he asks you.

“Stressful, but not bad. Yours?”

“Exhausting. My back’s killing me and my neck’s already dead.”

You slide your hand to his neck to massage it gently.

“I can imagine. Did you finish it?”

“Yeah, the madman actually sat through the entire tattoo.”

“That’s actually crazy.”

“Yeah”, Jungkook chuckles and lifts his head, resting his chin against your chest. He grins as he talks, “did you get the burgers?”

“Of course I did. They’re waiting for us in the kitchen.”

“I’m so hungry already.”

“Me too”, you say and break the hug by getting down from the last step, “wanna watch The Witcher as we eat?”

“Yes, that sounds like a plan”, Jungkook says as he jogs up the stairs to change into comfortable clothes and wash his hands.

You have the burgers and fries prepared on your coffee table when Jungkook comes back. Bam is on the sofa next to you, resting his head on his front paws as he enjoys his post dinner nap. Jungkook wakes him as he gets on his knees in front of him and greets him with kisses all over his face.

“Hello Bamie”, he coos in a squeaky voice, “did you have a good day? Daddy had a really long day. Oh Bamie, my baby.”

The Doberman accepts his dad’s kisses with a wagging tail. It makes a dull sound of impact each time it slaps the couch cushions.

“Mwuah”, Jungkook finishes his kisses with a smooch to Bam’s forehead and then stands up. He picks up his burger and plops down on the couch so Bam was between you and him. He stretches his legs out and lets his head plop against the cushions. Then he sighs, “that’s luxury, seriously.”

“Yeah”, you agree, “ready?”

“Yeah.”

You press play on the show and for the next twenty minutes, you enjoy your dinner as the show was running. You pause it once you are finished with your food so you could carry the dirty plates to the kitchen and start the dishwasher. You return with some chocolate drops for dessert.

“Choco snack?” you offer Jungkook.

“Uuh, yes thank you”, Jungkook says and scoops a good handful out of the bowl. Bam left the spot between you and him by now so he could instead scratch at his favourite scratching mat. The sounds of his playing fill the background as you press play on the show again. You rest on the couch in a way which enables Jungkook to lie down between your legs. You put the snack bowl on his stomach and begin massaging his shoulders.

“Mhm yeah, that’s premium”, he says, wiggling happily, “thankies.”

“Tell me if I hurt you”, you say and then no other words are exchanged between you and him as you enjoy the show. You snack, you cuddle, you massage his shoulders and you react to good scenes in the show. It’s truly the perfect evening.

After the episode finished, you stay on the couch to chat about your days. You and Jungkook are facing each other. He is sitting on the sofa cross-legged as he massages your feet because you complained about them hurting.

“By the way, I just remembered”, you say during a moment of nice silence.

“Yeah?”

“Seokjin told me that Jimin was at the diner today and that he told him that Yoongi will bring apple pie on Saturday.”

“This just made my entire night. Yoongi’s apple pie is the best apple pie ever. Sorry baby, yours is amazing too, but I gotta be honest.”

You laugh, “no, I agree. There is no better apple pie than Yoongi’s. And Jinnie said that Joon can’t shut up about how good this session will be.”

“He always says that and then it’s never a lie.”

“I said the same thing.”

You and Jungkook share in little chuckles.

Bam appears by your side, stubbing Jungkook’s knee.

“I think he needs to shit”, he says.

“Yeah, I think so too. His eyes are glassy.”

“Do you need to poop, baby?” Jungkook coos at Bam. The dog huffs out air and leaves the living room for the front door, “okay yeah he does. I’ll take him for a walk, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay here if you don’t mind. My feet are gonna shrivel up if I take another step today.”

Jungkook chuckles, “no worries. I need the movement either way”, he says and gets up. He kisses your forehead as he passes you, “it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Yeah, okay. If I’m not here when you return, I’m taking a shower.”

“Okay. See you later, sweetie.”

“See you, honey.”

Just like you told Jungkook, you are taking a shower when he returns. He knocks on the door.

“Come in!”

He enters the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He scans his eyes up and down your naked body, but doesn’t say anything raunchy about it.

“How was the walk?”

“Good. I feel human again”, Jungkook says and rolls his shoulders, “Bam’s in his crate already. He totally passed out after the walk. He did so much sniffing, I think it tired him out.”

“He’s so cute.”

“Yeah, he really is”, Jungkook sighs dreamily, "our son."

You chuckle fondly and guide the showerhead over your left arm, “do you wanna join me?”

“Uuh, yes I do”, he coos and begins undressing in little dance moves. It makes you laugh because he is such a dork. 

Now buttnaked, he grins cutely and steps into the shower. He leans in for a little kiss, but you attack him with water instead by turning the showerhead and covering his chest with it.

“Hey”, he laughs.

You snicker mischievously then begin guiding the showerhead over his body to wet him.

“Not cool. I wanted to kiss you”, he chuckles.

“Kisses come later. You’re sweaty.”

“Wow, so mean”, he laughs and turns his back to you so you can wet it as well.

You turn off the water afterwards, picking up his soap to squirt some into his hands.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome”, you say and switch out his soap for yours.

You and he soap yourselves up, going thoroughly to really make sure the day is washed off. You even soap up your cracks, feeling no shame in doing so. It was a little awkward in your beginning phase, because soaping up your intimate places is a very personal thing to do, but these days, you don’t think it’s embarrassing to do it in front of each other. In some weird way, it’s kind of nice to do it in front of each other. You are bonded for life and there are no other people you know as intimately as you know each other. Feeling comfortable in washing even the most personal places in front of each other just means that what you and he have is real and it’s home.

Jungkook takes on the job of washing the soap off your bodies. First you and then himself. He keeps the water running afterwards, guiding it over your body for now to warm you up.

“And now?” he asks.

“We could dry up and watch more Witcher or we could get a little sexy.”

“A little sexy?” Jungkook asks and glances at your tits, “like sexy sexy?”

“Yes, sexy sexy”, you snicker, nudging his chest, “doofus.”

“What? I gotta make sure, I don’t wanna be weird.”

“Cutie”, you say and take the showerhead from him to warm him for a change, “do you wanna be sexy sexy with me?”

“Yeah”, Jungkook nods his head, “yeah, I can be convinced.”

“You can?” you ask seductively.

“Mh-hm”, Jungkook hums and wiggles his brows.

You turn the water off and put the showerhead in its mount for now. You step closer to Jungkook and touch his chest.

“You can get your kisses now”, you tell him.

“Finally”, Jungkook says and grabs your butt with both his hands to pull your body close. He claims your lips in a kiss, purring happily.

“Mhhm”, you hum, burying your fingers in his hair as you get lost in his kisses.

You kiss, you touch, you grope and hug. You stumble, press each other against the tiles, giggle, kiss some more and turn each other on in the process. Most of your shared showers don’t end in sex, so tonight feels extra special. You felt like it. You had such a good day and Jungkook is such a cutie that you just wanted to at least shoot your shot. That Jungkook said yes was the sweetest cherry on top.

By now, Jungkook has you against the tiles with one knee between your legs so you can grind on it as you kiss. He is rolling his hips against you, finding sweet electricity on your stomach as his hard cock moves against it.

Jungkook breaks the kiss to nibble on your neck.

“I love it when you mark my thigh”, he rasps.

“I know”, you sigh. Your lips feel puffy and tender from kissing, “shit Kook, it feels so good.”

“Yeah, it does”, he agrees, squeezing your butt, “my goddess. Gotta love that ass.”

“You’re stupid”, you snicker and moan, “fuck, you feel good.”

“Mhm, yeah”, he sucks a spot of sensitivity to your neck, “so good.”

“Kiss me again”, you say and pull him into a kiss.

And so you do it again. You kiss, you touch, you grope and grind. You moan, sigh, shiver and pull each other closer. You stumble and move around, almost knock the soap bottles over and hit the showerhead hose with your elbow.

You break the kiss again. You are both out of breath and heated up. Jungkook looks at you with heavy eyes.

“Wanna do something fun?” you ask.

“More fun than this?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

“Wanna get each other off with the showerhead?”

“Yes”, Jungkook furrows his brows, “fuck, your mind. You’ve got the sexiest ideas.”

“I know”, you snicker, “you first. I’ll make you cum”, you say and push him away from you gently.

“Okay”, Jungkook stumbles back, lifting his hands in defeat, “I’m not stopping you.”

You take the showerhead off its mount and turn the water on, checking the temperature with your hand. You lower it then turn it to Jungkook.

“Is that good for you?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Okay then, get ready.”

“I’m so ready”, Jungkook says and looks at his hard cock.

You place your palm on the upper side of his cockhead and use your thumb to hold it in place. You tilt it and guide the showerhead to his sensitive tip.

Jungkook gasps, taking a wobbly step closer while his cock throbs into the sensation.

“How’s that?” you ask him, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze. 

It is foggy in pleasure. His lids are lowered halfway.

“Good”, he whispers and parts his lips for a soft moan.

“You’re so pretty”, you speak quietly too. It feels right to do so.

“No, you are. Ah”, he furrows his brows, “there. Woah, ah”, and his eyes fall closed before his nose scrunches in pleasure. Another moan rolls off his tongue, his lips stay parted afterwards.

You look back at his cock. The water is hitting him right at his frenulum, reaching parts of his flushed tip as well. His thick vein is pulsating, moving his entire cock on your palm. His lower abs tense and tremble.

“Right there?” you ask, drawing circles.

“Yes, don’t stop. Keep, ah, please keep going.”

“Okay”, you say and try to keep the movements as they are right now. Slow circles with a minimal diameter so most of the water is focused on his sensitive frenulum. He says it’s where the pleasure goes especially deep. There and right on his tip. You don’t want to change the motion for the sake of finding out if his tip feels just as good however. Jungkook sounds so perfect right now. 

“This feels so good”, he moans, touching your shoulder just to run his hand down your arm. He lingers on your elbow, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It does. It’s so hot, baby.”

“Yeah-ah”, he bites his lower lip and smiles the kind of smile he always does when the pleasure hits just right, “that’s wow, aha”, he laughs breathily and opens his eyes, looking down at his own cock. He follows the showerhead as you guide it over his cock, sliding his hand to the back of your neck.

“Fuck.”

“Good?” 

“Fuck, looking at it…” Jungkook closes his eyes and furrows his brows, “...yeah that’s gonna make me cum. Fuck….baby…”

“Can I try your tip? Just to see.” 

Jungkook nods his head. You guide the showerhead away from his frenulum to instead draw circles on his tip. His cock throbs. He lets out a soft gasp.

“Good?”

“Yeah”, he rasps and rolls his hips, “I liked the other spot more. Please.” 

“Mhm, that’s sexy”, you purr and guide the showerhead back to where you were before, “there?”

“Lower, ahnm it’s good just low- yes! Ah”, he moans loudly, throwing his head back, “there. That’s the fucking spot, holy shit.”

His cock pulsates and leaks. The water washes it away instantly, but the twitchy nature of his cock remains.

“You’re so sexy. Fuck, I’m going insane”, you rasp and feel tingles run all over your skin.

“Baby, you’re making me cum”, Jungkook gets out and squeaks in a moan, “a-ah”, he clears his throat, “sorry, voice cra-ah-ack. Ah fuck, ___ holy shit.” 

You snicker, “you’re cute”, you say and draw a little heart. And another one. And one more for good measures, “and sensitive.”

“Yeah I was close”, he says and scrunches his nose, “this is gonna feel so. So ah. So good”, Jungkook stutters and rolls his hips, “stay there. There. Baby, please.” 

“There?”

Jungkook moans loudly, scrunching his face.

“Yeah, right there”, you rasp, “you’re such a pretty boy, getting your pretty cock all clean and nice for me.”

“Fuck, oh fuck.”

“So pretty. You’re such a pretty boy with the prettiest cock.” 

“Now”, Jungkook gets out and moans, convulsing in his high. He spills all over his tummy and your hand, but the water washes it away instantly. He wobbles, finding support by holding your shoulder, “I was right, it feels so good”, he whines and reaches down to play with his own tip, “oh god, ____. Ah!”

“You’re so hot. So fucking hot”, you moan with him, feeling your own knees buckle. There are only a few things hotter than watching your husband orgasm. You could fucking do it for hours. It’s addictive, especially when he’s wet from a shower and his knees are wobbling like crazy. 

“Woah”, Jungkook gets out and slacks against you, dropping his head on your shoulder as his arms close around you. He audibly gulps repeatedly, nuzzling his nose into your skin. His cock is squished between your tummies, throbbing slowly. You hold the showerhead behind his back for now, letting the water hit the tiles.

“Liked it?” you ask him, tracing his spine.

He nods his head and exhales shakily, “holy fuck.”

You giggle, “you’re cute. I’m happy you liked it.”

“Yeah, I did. Seriously wow”, he exhales happily and lifts his head, giving you a goofy grin, “you’re the best ever. Thank you.”

You do a little curtsey, “you are very welcome.”

Jungkook laughs and gives your waist a little squeeze. His eyes lower playfully, he licks his lips. You feel your heart speed up and your pussy throb.

“Now give me the showerhead. It’s your turn”, he rasps and smirks.

You give it to him without hesitation, parting your legs so he can have access. You keep staring into his eyes, feeling yourself totally lose yourself in him. Jungkook gazes at you, eye fucking you so well that your breath is already shaky even without any sort of stimulation.

“Count to three for me”, he whispers.

“One.”

Jungkook slides his left hand to your hip.

“T-two.”

Jungkook leans down to place a kiss on the most sensitive spot of your neck.

“Three”, you sigh, closing your eyes in anticipation.

Warm water hits your pussy and stimulates your aching clit. You grip his strong upper arms, squeezing desperately.

“Jungkook….”

Jungkook purrs deeply, using his lips and teeth to play with your earlobe. He slides his left hand to the small of your back and tilts your hips with a gentle push, making it so your clit is more exposed to the stream of warm water.

The moan you let out bounces off the walls, but you find no shame in it. On the contrary, you allow another sound to slip, rolling your hips into the sensation.

“Is that nice, mhm?” Jungkook asks in a rasp and his voice tickling your ear.

“Yeah, nice”, you get out, gliding your hands to his pecs. Fuck, his skin is so wet and silky from the water. His muscles are twitching under your touch, his deep purr tickles your palm.

“You’re so sexy like this. Keep touching me, baby. Feel how strong I am, mhm?”

“Yeah…” you sigh, moaning when he tenses his pecs just for you.

Jungkook growls playfully and moves the showerhead closer. You twitch instinctively, feeling your knees shake.

“Wait. It feels weird like this”, you say. 

“Yeah? What do you need changed?”

“Don’t laugh, but I want it like this”, you say and sit down on the floor. You rest against the tiles and prop up your feet, parting your legs. 

“This is so hot”, Jungkook says and kneels down in front of you. He scoots close and gets comfortable with his legs crossed. You place your legs over his’, propping your feet up on the floor behind him. Like this, you have skin on skin contact and Jungkook is facing you head on. He leans in for a kiss, breaking it by gently nipping on your lower lip.

“You’re sexy”, he rasps and guides the showerhead to your pussy.

You jolt up, arching your back.

“Woah.”

“Good?” 

“Can you, ah, use your fingers to spread me?”

Jungkook nods his head and uses his left hand to part your folds for the water. Trembles shake your legs, your hips roll into the sensation.

“Fuck yes, ah like this.”

“This is so hot. I love this”, Jungkook rasps and switches his gaze to your pussy. He licks his lips, wiggling his hips in desperation. You are so spread for him and the water takes such pretty paths along your pussy. He makes sure to bundle the stream onto your clit area. You already look so swollen, especially now that he is keeping you spread, “you look so sensitive, baby.”

“Your thigh”, you mewl and it’s enough for Jungkook to understand that grinding on his meaty thigh brought you just as close as your stomach did him.

“Fuck, so hot”, he growls and spreads your pussy more. He draws lines up and down your clit, listening for your reaction. 

“Jungkook, baby”, you moan, rolling your head back.

Thud.

It falls against the tiles. Jungkook looks at your face. Your eyes are closed, a droopy smirk curls your lips.

“Does it feels good what I do?” he asks in a soft spoken voice. 

You nod your head.

“Should we try circles too?”

You nod your head again.

Jungkook changes the lines for circles, sending trembles through your legs. 

“It’s that. Ahng”, you scratch your nails over the tiled floor before grabbing your own thighs for support, “that. It’s, it’s that. Ah, fuuck….” you open your legs further, panting heavily as your back arches off the wall.

“Fuck, this is hot. I’m going insane”, Jungkook confesses in a raspy voice and his darkened eyes flitting back to your pussy. 

“Don’t stop please. This feels so good.”

“I won’t, baby”, he promises you and leans in for a kiss. He manages to place one on your jawline, ending it with a little suck. 

“Ah, mhm, ah”, you let out and writhe, “it’s soon.” 

“Yeah? So hot. My pretty girl with her pretty pussy. It’s so sexy how she’s getting all wet for me.”

“Keep talking, holy fuck.”

“Mhm, my pretty girl. You’ve got the prettiest pussy, baby”, Jungkook rasps and swirls the showerhead just how you need it, “my prett-”

“Now!” you fall into his words as your high hits you. Sit up in reaction, grabbing Jungkook’s arm for support as the only sound leaving you is a throaty “ngn.” 

“Baby”, Jungkook moans with you, staring at your throbbing pussy obsessively. She is pulsating so much.

“Holy fuck, this is actually making me squirt. Ohgod. Urgh”, you moan and groan, convulsing uncontrollably as the intense stimulation of the water makes you squirt. 

“Holy fuck, baby. Holy fuck”, Jungkook growls, gawking obsessively. The water washes any kind of proof away instantly, but the way you grab him and shake, is enough to let him know that you weren’t bluffing. The showerhead is making you fucking squirt all over the shower floor and it’s Jungkook’s doing. 

“You’re a fucking goddess. Holy shit, I’m going insane”, Jungkook moans and helps you ride it out until you push away the showerhead on your own.

You drop against the wall, letting your head tangle tiredly.

“No more. Holy fuck”, you croak and writhe, “wow…” 

Jungkook, who is still keeping you spread with his left hand, uses his pointer finger to rub your clit. He gets as far as to lightly brush his the pad of his finger over it and then you already flinch in overstimulation. Your legs fall closed as best as possible, your eyes open and beg him to stop.

“Seriously don’t. I’m so-” you twitch and flinch as Jungkook does it again. 

As gently as possible. But you are way too overstimulated, so it felt as if he was using his entire force.

“Kook”, you both moan and complain, “stop it, I’m too sensitive”, you say in a laugh, reaching between your legs to pull his hand away.

Jungkook laughs and lets you. He holds your waist instead, closing in so he could claim your lips in a smiley kiss. 

You kiss him back, but soon push him away gently. You slap his chest with both hands, barely using strength for it.

“You’re fucking awful. My clit’s sensitive”, you chuckle.

“Sorry, it was too tempting not to”, he snickers, “you know I love it when you’re like this.” 

“I know. Too much unfortunately. One day I’ll accidentally kick you ‘cause you activated some sort of reflex. Seriously.”

Jungkook laughs. You laugh. You fall into a giggly kiss again, ending it with a mutual “mhm” and a stub with your noses. 

You rest your forehead together, keeping your eyes closed.

“So this was amazing”, he whispers 

“Yeah, it was. Exactly what I needed tonight.”

“Definitely. I feel so good. You?”

“Me too, yeah. Although, two things.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook is already snickering.

“My tailbone is starting to hurt and I’m getting sleepy.”

He chuckles and pecks your lips.

“Let’s actually dry ourselves, do our routines and then go to bed?” he suggests.

“Sounds like a deal. Snuggles later?”

“Snuggles definitely later. Oh hell yeah, you can bet on it”, he says, making you giggle.

“You’re cute. Now help me up, I’m ruined, seriously.”

Jungkook laughs, “hold onto me. Your strong hubby will help you.”

“Wow, I married the strongest person ever. My hero”, you joke, looking into Jungkook’s sparkly eyes as you and he once again share in giggles and laughter. 

[wandixx]

one-shot snippet

Duke was running out of fumes to run on. The last few days would be exhausting if it was just vigilante or just civilian stuff but no, he had to have it both. Because of Arkham break out, he had been called in three nights in a row, not for a whole patrol but he couldn't exactly sleep it off during the day like others did, especially not in a week when every teacher decided they needed to have test or quiz or what not. Naps meant he wasn't as sleep-deprived as he could be but he needed far more. But he couldn't because crime in Gotham never sleeps so he had normal patrol to finish and there were about two hours left.

Would something bad happen if he just stopped for a moment and laid on a roof? Ten up to fifteen minutes. It was a slow day too…

Yeah, no, he deserved a moment to rest and if something disastrous was to happen in the meantime he would shame other Bats for not giving him enough time to sleep.

It certainly said something that he found gravel covering this roof to be quite comfortable. He set a timer for ten minutes and let himself close his eyes.

When the loud screech of the timer jolted him awake, he was suddenly fully aware that he wasn't alone anymore. He sat up a little too quickly.

"Oh, you're awake" white white-haired girl around Damian's age chimed, sitting cross-legged just a few feet away from him. She wore something that could only be described as a lab safety hazmat suit, white and black with popping green accents. When had Gotham gotten a new vigilante/villain/whoever the girl was? "Good, I just returned from a snack hunt," she added, gesturing at a big textile bag lying next to her. Duke didn't have enough brainpower to do anything more than ask.

"What?"

The girl shrugged, take-out from BatBurger in her hand.

"You look like you have a bad day if not a few days, so I've got you my cousin's bad day combo or at least the closest thing I could. BatBurger burger isn't as good as NastyBurger but you certainly have better fries" As she spoke, a second take-out bag, 1 liter bottle of energy drink, juice bottle of the same size, and pack of convenience store brownies joined greasy paper bag sealed with a sticker.

"Is your cousin a speedster?" Excuse Duke, it was a totally valid question, he saw with his bare eyes both Wally West and Bart Allen when they visited Manor. No one else would be able to stomach the amount of food they inhaled during their stays.

"Nah, we're not that fast or that hungry. Though I think I may get closer to the speed of sound." So, clearly, a meta if white hair and weir aura that let his eyes rest weren't enough indication "My cousin when he has a bad few days often forgets to eat so this combo has to help with there too. But I'll steal your fries of course."

Duke was not going to look a gift horse in the teeth, so he grabbed one bag and tore it open. There was a classic combo with bigger fries and NightWings inside.

"Thank you…" he trailed off, hoping that the girl would take a clue and introduce herself but she didn't. She just drowned her fries in ketchup and started munching. She had her own juice.

"My cousin always said that each part of this combo has a different purpose." she explained instead, slightly muffled because of the fries in her mouth "This" she gestured towards the fast food meal "is to soothe your stomach. This "she tapped energy drink "is to soothe your brain and kick it back online. This "she raised a bottle of juice "is to soothe your taste buds because energy drinks are war crime against them and this "she nudged brownies "is to soothe your heart because Ancients damn it, this day is awful and you deserve it. At least that's what he told me when I had day bad enough to deserve that" she shrugged, licking ketchup of her finger. Suddenly she froze "You aren't allergic, are you?

"No, I'm not" he confessed bewildered.

"Good"

For a long moment, they sat in silence, devouring food the little girl brought. Duke distantly wondered if this was how the night shift spent their snack breaks. It felt nice.

He was finishing his part of the brownies when the girl spoke up again.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah," he was a little surprised to realize that t it was true. He'll have to note down what she put in this 'bad day combo'. "Thank you"

"Don't mention it." she shrugged with a general gesture of dismissal "You're one of my cousin's favorite heroes because you're vaguely his age and handle Gotham alone during the day and I quote "She did honest or God air quotes at that" 'As only hero in Amity-' which is a lie by the way, Val is doing great and even if he suddenly got problem with how she feels about his alter ego, he still has Sam and Tuck even if they're usually more of moral support. And I helped when I visited, so no, he isn't the only one. Anyway as he said 'As the only hero in Amity, my heart goes out for anyone who deals with this type of bullshit so Dani if you absolutely have to prank heroes, leave them out of it, especially Signal, he can't be older than Jazz, he doesn't need any more mess to handle.' All aliens and lanterns are also off-limits because he is a space nerd. But you aren't space-related so I'm like 80% percent sure he has a celebrity crush on you" She slurped more juice, unbothered.

Duke was thankful he wasn't swallowing anything because for sure she would choke. He took a split second to consider addressing… this whole situation and choose against it. He was not ready to be anyone's celebrity crush.

"Your name is Danny?" he asked instead.

"Dani" she corrected" with an I"

"Ok. It's nice to meet you Dani-with-an-I" She giggled, nodding her head slightly.

"It's nice to meet you too Signal"

Duke stood up, stretching a little. Dani joined him after hastily putting all the trash in her bag. She was a little higher than expected.

"I have to get back to my patrol"

"Cool," she drifted back a bit, making him realize that she was floating a few inches above the ground. She fixed her bag on her arm.

"Hey, can I hang out a little bit more? My cousin will go green out of jealousy when I tell him" she added with a mischievous smirk but Duke could tell there was more to it. He took a moment to consider it, which apparently made the girl nervous "I can be invisible the whole time, like before." she offered, disappearing in the meantime. He could still tell where she was, because of her heat signature, and aura but for regular people, she would be no different than the surrounding air.

"Yeah, you can hang around and you don't have to be invisible. Just don't get in my way when I have to actually do some fighting."

She popped back to the visible spectrum and pouted like Damian whenever he got benched.

" I can fight, y'know? I stopped mugging on a snack run."

It was ten goddamn minutes, how could she get so much food and stop a mugging in such a short time?!

Oh, right, superspeed. Still, impressive.

"I haven't seen it" he started, channeling all Dick-trying-to-wrangle-Damian-into-socially-acceptable-activity' energy he could muster "So I don't know how you fight or even what powers you have. If we tried to fight together we would trip over each other" It was a bare-faced lie, Bat Training made sure of that but he knew for a fact that if he said anything else, the girl would be mad and probably did her own thing.

Was that what Bruce thought about all of them?

Oh no.

Dani still looked displeased but after a moment of consideration, she nodded with a defeated sigh.

Suddenly she straightened like she got struck by lightning and whipped around.

"Wha-"

She just shushed raising her finger to her mouth. Duke did indeed quieten.

"I have enhanced hearing" she whispered "There is a mugging somewhere this way."

"Let's go then" he shot his grapple, waving his other hand at Dani to come with him before he jumped off the roof. He heard the girl giggle as she flew right after him.

" After this, you'll show me the coolest gargoyles, okay? Sam asked for photos"

"Okay"

It seemed that the end of this patrol wouldn't be as bad as the start was. Hopefully.

And afterward, he was going to lock himself in his room until the sky fell or he was well rested.

Yeah, that was a good plan.

*******

how do you like it?

[writingjourney]

I’m having a severe chronic illness/pain flare up today that’s kept me in bed all night and all day today- I’d love some headcanons for the Papas when it comes to caring for a sick or chronically ill partner if you have the time! Maybe even a short ficlet if you feel inspired to! ☕️😮‍💨📚

I hope you're feeling better by now! ♡ I managed to write a short snippet for each Papa, trying to keep it somewhat vague as to what type of pain reader is experiencing. Copia can be read in whichever role you fancy :)

content: 1.5k words total, each papa x gn!reader, hurt/comfort, reader with chronic pain [Ao3 link]

Primo

He's successfully shut out the rest of the world, one harsh look and the Sibling who tried to pester you scattered off like a fearful rabbit. He's tucked you under the blanket with the firm insistence of a nurse who's overseeing your strict bed rest. Primo knows one thing by now, having forced his body through decades worth of hard work – you can only push yourself so far before you shut down, before you cannot recover without sufficient rest.

"I could have just helped them quickly," you insist. "It's already getting be–"

"I will not have these idioti risk your health with tasks they can do themselves, fiore."

And that's that. He's well aware that no one is going to be brave enough to complain about him to Sister, half the Ministry too scared to bother you at all while you're with him. Primo knows you care about your work which entails that you'd never have called off unless you collapsed right in front of him. But he likes to think that you enjoy it when he's just as stubborn as you are.

"Drink some more water, amore." Perched on the edge of the bed, he hands you the glass, perpetually full as if by magic. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," you admit. "The heating pad helps."

"Good." He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Now, time to get some sleep."

"Join me? I think it's time for an old man nap."

He narrows his eyes, playful but not unserious. "I will show you who is an old man when you feel better."

You give a tired laugh and he softens up the moment you've draped yourself over his chest, long fingers stroking along your arm. With his steady heartbeat against your ear it's easier to fall asleep and for once it's comforting to know that the rest of the world can wait.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Secondo

"Ah ah, no getting up, amore."

You sink back into the pillows, caught in the act. "I just want to–"

"No." The rhythmic scratching of pen on paper, books and notepad pages scattered on the small desk he carried into the bedroom to work from home today. "Whatever you need, you just tell your Papa."

"What if I have to go pee? Will you oversee that as well?"

He glances up over the rim of his reading glasses. "Do you?"

"No."

"Then why are you trying to get up?"

"I was going to look at what you're doing."

"You are not well, amore. You need to learn how to rest."

You pull the blanket up over your head and turn to your side, your next words grumbled into the fabric. "That call is coming from inside the house."

"What was that, hm?"

Before you can reply, the mattress dips under his weight, his presence immediately taking up all air around you. A thrill runs through your whole body, clouding the pain for a short but sweet moment.

"I know I am not leading by example," he concedes, a heavy hand stroking along the shape of your arm, down to your hips and then following the trail of your spine back up to your head. He tugs at the blanket there, revealing you to him. "Do you need more medicine? A book to read? Music?"

"What I really need is you," you whisper. "And… perhaps some more ibuprofen, yeah."

Secondo lends you one of his rare smiles, thumb softly stroking along your cheekbone. As though he can't resitst he leans in for a short but soft kiss, nose brushing against yours but careful not to exhaust you. "I can do that, amore. Make some space in the bed while I get it."

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Terzo

You haven't been particularly hungry, dozing for hours, closing your eyes to drown out the world, anything to sit out the pain and discomfort for however long it takes. When the surprising smell of freshly cooked food slowly creeps into the bedroom you feel your stomach grumbling for the first time in days.

"Terz?"

He does not reply. You furrow your brow, debating whether it's worth getting up to check on whatever he's fabricating. It's less that you don't trust him in the kitchen, he's perhaps lacking the cooking practice but he more than makes up for it with his quick wit. It's more so that he's been anxious ever since you got ill, desperate to help, flinching whenever you show any signs of pain, and he's already easily distracted on the best of days.

Before you've made up your mind the door creaks open. A smile lights up his face when he finds you awake, arms occupied with a steaming bowl that he carries between two oven-gloved hands.

"I hope you have an appetite, amore," he says.

You sit up, heart swelling at the sight of him in a kitchen apron. Before he sits down on the chair by your bedside he places the tray over your lap that you've been using, unable to sit for too long, and then sets down an old porcelain bowl you know he inherited from his grandmother. The rich aroma of the hearty broth floods your nose, tiny pieces of pasta swimming alongside finely chopped vegetables.

"Pastina Soup," he explains. "My nonna made this when I was not feeling well as a little boy, she used to say it is medicine against anything. I know how to make this in my sleep, amore. The kitchen is fine."

"I didn't say anything!"

"I see it in your eyes, you don't trust me with the stove." He raises his brows and you can't help but laugh, a sound that melts the tension out of his posture. "I know I know, I have been a bit of a hectic mother hen, hm? But I do not like seeing you unwell."

"I'm grateful, my love," you whisper, taking his hand in yours for a reassuring squeeze. "I've not been taken care of like that in a long time."

He eases into the chair, proud smile stretching his lips, and watches as you try the first spoonful. Warmth spreads from your belly to your limbs, the broth rich, so full of flavor that you feel revived from the taste alone. At your delighted hum his smile grows, so much that you can see the dimples in his cheeks. It's perfect.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Copia

"Relax, amore," he whispers, pulling you firmer against his chest with an arm tightly wrapped around your front. "I can feel that you are still tense."

"I'm trying." You let your head fall back until it meets his shoulder. The steaming hot water of the bath eases your pain in a way that makes it somewhat more bearable. "It just takes some time to get used to the heat."

You inhale the scent of lavender bubbles, figure that you should be glad he finally made you use the fancy bath bomb and foam that you've been trying to keep for a special occasion. It feels too luxurious to waste, too much of an indulgence. Copia has been insisting on this, though, after you've been in agony for days and he's been fussing, heating pad, medication, all not helping enough to take away the discomfort of such persistent pain.

"Still tense," he whispers a few minutes later, voice so close to your ear that goosebumps prickle at your neck despite the heat. You can feel his hands now, slowly working into your muscles, fingers smoothing out the knots. It's… not uncomfortable, though you have to wince on occasion when he hits a particularly sore spot. "What do we do about this, my baby?"

"I wouldn't mind if you just kept going with this," you whisper.

And he does, though his lips start to trail the softest of kisses up the side of your neck now, across your shoulder, anywhere he can reach without moving you too much. Once the water cools down you'll slip back into sweats, cozying up in his bed with a movie. It's the closest you can get to finding peace while you're not feeling well, hoping the flare up will fade if you allow yourself the needed rest. It helps him, too, though he's much better about doing his stretches and staying on top of things.

"Thanks for forcing me to relax," you whisper drowsily, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace.

He chuckles, wrapping you up between his arms and legs and the sweet scent of the bath. "We both know you never would have used that bath bomb, amore."

I hope these were comforting to anyone who might need it <3

Masterlist – My Ao3

[silverwhittlingknife]

snippet

“Nobody is going to die here,” Dick says, trying to project a confidence he doesn’t feel.

If this were the Titans, he’d probably get some acknowledgement.  Titans together.  A clap on the shoulder.  Something.  But it’s not the Titans, so instead Cass Cain flicks a glance at him and then goes back to scowling at the wall, and Jason says, “Would you fucking quit it with the inspirational speeches, leader-boy?” and Tim says, “I think we should prioritize getting Dick out,” as if Dick isn’t even here.

“I’m fine,” Dick says.  Because he is. Mostly.  It’s not like it’s exactly fun to get whipped and then tied to an ominous black altar in a room with no obvious doors after successfully talking a cult into deciding you’re the optimum sacrifice of their four captives.  But it’s certainly better than the alternative scenario in which the Dark Leader Whatsisface had listened to Tim’s pitch.

“Weakness in the wall,” Cass says.  “…Here.”

“Yeah, weak walls would be great, if we had C4,” Jason says.  “Except for the part where we don’t have C4, because somebody took my stash and my helmet.  Some fucking insufferable team of fucking idiots who like to mind everybody else’s business—”

“Kick, maybe,” Cass says to Tim, who’s still trying to pick the lock on one of Dick’s manacles.

Tim frowns.  “I don’t think even you can kick a wall hard enough to—”

“Not… the wall.  Kick him,” Cass says, nodding at Jason.

“Oh fuck you very much,” Jason says, with more heat than Dick expects.  Jason’s edgy, beneath all the bluffing, and it’s hard to tell why, because although the situation admittedly isn’t great the countdown timer still has half an hour to go before the cult starts punching whatever buttons outside the room that will set Dick on fire—or get him eaten by a dragon, it hadn’t been very clear through the chanting.

Anyway.  They have time, even if Cass’s shoulders are tense and Tim’s face is strained and Dick’s back is killing him—they strapped him with his back down after the beating, and he’s trying not to think about the likelihood of blood stains on this altar thing—and the sweat from the heat is getting in his eyes.

A hand.  Tim’s wiped the sweat away, which is both a comfort and kind of humiliating.  Tim’s lips are pinched—he’s furious at Dick, it’s obvious, only not acting on it because they’re in front of Jason and Tim, at least, understands the importance of presenting a united front.  So it’ll be a fight, once they get out, but Dick’s not sorry.  If he’s totally honest, he’s a little angry himself.  Trust me, Tim had muttered, when they all first got grabbed, and then he’d raised his voice and asked to speak privately to the leader, and Dick only realized too late what he’d been after, when the cultists came back and explained how Red Robin was going to be their sacrifice to the dragon-god and everyone else could live and watch in order to marvel at their lord’s demonic glory or whatever.

“Cass, listen,” Tim says.  "I think if you help me with the manacles—”

“No,” Cass says.  Tim’s been trying to get her to come back to the altar to mess with Dick’s bindings; Cass has been ignoring him.  A splinter in an otherwise seamless partnership.

"If you put pressure on the other side while I pick the lock," Tim says.

"No," Cass snaps. Cass doesn’t believe in united fronts, Jason or no Jason—Dick should know, she once threw him into a wall—but Dick doesn’t think she’s actually mad at Tim, just impatient.  “Manacles broken, not broken… doesn’t matter. No good if we’re still here.  Need to get out.  Then Nightwing.”

“I vote we leave him here, actually,” Jason says.  

“Jason, shut up,” Tim says.

“What, is this suddenly not a democracy? Do I not have the right to an opinion? Are you against voting, Replacement?”

[lottiies]

re2r! Leon asking reader out for the first time n he plans out a whole date but reader actually hates the place he picks out LOL but powers through anyways just to get to know this cute boy but then he kinda catches on and feels bad oops obsessed with rookie leon can u tell

NO I GET YOUR OBSESSION HE’S SO CUTE

um…i wrote a quick snippet on this for funsies ⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝ fingers crossed for no typos

his plan was to first head to get some lunch. something casual, dinner would be too…stress inducing. he already sucked at talking with women, he needed everything to go smoothly. plus, food is the key to one’s heart, right? after that, you guys could walk around the nearby blocks, the place is surrounded with small stores full of all sorts of things like thrift and records stores, it was a great way to get to know each other’s interests and spare you from his natural awkwardness. it was a safe area, he would know, no calls from there ever reached the police department.

anyways!! the date was at stage one, and he thought everything was going really well! he had you laughing at his god awful jokes and your eyes never really strayed from his for too long. not once did you pick your phone up either. okay, he’s not boring you.

but after a while of chatting he glances down and realizes that you’ve only taken a bite of your food! maybe even a small second pity bite. at least you seemed to like your drink it was kind of hard to mess that up.

he gets all nervous immediately </3 if he fucked up the literal first part of the date, then maybe that would follow through onto the next portion. he’s cursed. well great, weren’t first impressions the most important? what if he came off as inconsiderate because he hadn’t noticed until half an hour in? geez, he wouldn’t be surprised if you pulled the whole ‘i need to go to the restroom’ bit and then ghosted his ass.

of course you didn’t, though! leon was such a sweetheart and his crooked smiles and awkward mannerisms brought warmth to your chest.

normally, this would have irked you just a bit. you were really fucking hungry. you hadn’t eaten breakfast since you had been too busy getting ready and gushing to all your friends about your upcoming date. like, you were sure if the music in the background was playing any lower, your stomach grumbling noises would be on blast…which would be really embarrassing. and who the hell was happy when they were hungry?

well…at the moment, you were. you liked him, genuinely. oh yeah, a crummy lunch order won’t deter you from being involved in his life!! your gut is telling you he’s the one, you can take the hunger.

“not a fan of the food?” he masked his nervousness with a smile as he gestured to your plate with his hand.

“oh, um…” after a shy moment of silence, you shook your head. “not really, but it’s totally okay! the place has some pastries that i was eyeing earlier…so maybe i’ll just grab one when we leave to walk around.”

maybe your kindness should reassure him but it made his palms all sweaty instead. you were so his type, he couldn’t mess this up.

“you…you sure? i could order something else for you right now.”

“no no no.” you reached for his hand, clasping it in yours. “don’t leave! i just wanna keep talking to you.”

he melted, his cheeks a subtle rosy shade. he looked down at your hands before glancing back up at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “yeah? thought this would make me lose points or something.”

if anything, he gained some in the cuteness department.

[coldbronzemoon]

Danny Fenton, Totally Mortal Hero Consultant (DPxDC)

Snippet for an AU I'll probably never fully write where Danny takes a job as a consultant for the Justice League to help with ghost and demon bullshit. It's a pretty good cash flow to help him with college, after all, and very flexible hours.

He just claims all his knowledge comes from his parents. Unfortunately, the JL has caught word of the elusive yet active hero Phantom, and want Danny to help them meet and assess him. Whoops.

Over the phone, Tucker sighed. “Good Christ, Danny, why do you keep doing this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Danny said immediately. He winced at the vague sound of screaming below. Demons sucked. “I didn’t know the JL thing was gonna have me finding Phantom. How would I? They were talking about tracking down powerful ghosts, I was assuming Ancients!”

Tucker sighed again, which was really quite unfair of him. “Mhm. Well, Fenton Catcher?”

“Probably not. They know me pretty well at this point, and unlike what Sam says I can be professional. I’d confuse them with the… uh…”

“Stoner shtick?”

There was more screaming happening, but judging from the pitch it was a demon screaming this time. Danny checked the situation. Yep, demon getting their ass kicked. He didn’t need to get involved with a blaster. Yet.

Instead, he scowled at his phone. “Stop calling it that.”

“You’re gonna tell me flanny Danny wasn’t a pitch-perfect stoner, huh? With the chill vibing and the dopey look?”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, bud.” 

The sound of a clacking keyboard that had underlined their conversation stopped. “But seriously, Danny, what the hell are you gonna do with this?”

“Uh, lie, probably,” Danny said, because it was very likely.

“Alright, smartass, what are you going to do when that lie backfires on you like literally every other one does?”

“That’s when I start gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girlbossing, babe.”

He had a hard time hearing Tucker’s distant groan of “Why am I still your friend?” on account of the sudden explosion. Danny checked again. Hm. Demon dude had a nasty fire thing going on.

Danny switched on his Fenton water gun—holy water included!-- and shot the demon in the face. They let out a cracking hiss of rage, but dropped the fire spell thing. He waited for them to stop looking around wildly for the culprit for a moment. 

He went back to the call. “‘Cause you loooove me, Tuck. From the bottom of your twice-dead heart.”

“Unfortunately,” Tucker deadpanned.

Danny just cackled. It was lost amongst the sound of supernatural bullshit below.

“Anyway, I’m still figuring out my plan A, honestly. Might bring in gray-man?”

“Amorpho’s an asshole, though. He’ll ruin the whole thing by taking the opportunity to shift into a JL member for a bit.”

Hm. True.

“Yeah, but he’s the main guy I know with that power set.”

“Ask after Desiree?” He could hear the immediate distaste in Tucker’s voice. “Ugh, pretend I didn’t say that. That’s worse than Amorpho.”

“It’s awful,” Danny agreed easily. 

Desiree was actually pretty alright nowadays, mostly on account of Danny remembering the last couple minutes of Aladdin and wishing she could refuse wishes she didn’t want to grant. That had made her happy enough to stop actively picking fights. 

Unfortunately, spending the entirety of one’s afterlife twisting the wording of wishes to their worst form made it hard to stop being an asshole. Who knew! So getting Desiree to split him in two for like a week had a 50/50 chance of fucking up his work relationship with the literal league of superheroes irrevocably. And this was his main cash flow right now.

So, no Desiree, no siree.

“Come up with something better then, asshole.”

Danny hummed and, since the heroes below were focused on the demon, lifted up a little and did a thoughtful back flip. What to do, what to do…?

Oh!

“My cousin!” he exclaimed.

“What cous���? Oh, Ellie.”

“Yeah, Ellie, Tuck. Which other cousins do I have?”

Tucker scoffed. “You literally have that whole Nightingale thing going on through your dad?”

Danny couldn’t help the face he made. The remaining Nightingales were worse than his parents somehow. “The Nightingales don’t count.”

“You can’t just say they don’t count.”

“I can say that, actually, and I will. They’re, like, cousins through my great-great-great-grandpa anyway.”

“Isn’t there a fight going on over there? Should you be shooting someone?”

 “Yeah, probably.”

He peaked down through the window once more. The heroes must have gotten the first demon to leave while he was talking, because the horned demon fighting them now was a truly unfortunate shade of yellow-green instead of purple. Or maybe it had transformed for some reason? They had it about as in-hand as the other one, though, so Danny definitely didn’t need to go down there. He shot the maybe-new demon in the face real quick.

“Anyway, Ellie can totally help out, she’s been practicing with changing up her looks. She’s also more, uh, malleable than me, what with her situation and all. Looking fully like Phantom shouldn’t be hard.”

Tucker hummed. “She’d try to embarrass you though.”

“Yeah, that’s a problem.” Danny spun in place. “I could bribe her?”

“With what? Her life doesn’t involve needing much cash.”

“She doesn’t get out to the Zone very much. Not many of the inhabited places, anyway. I can promise her the weird apple things Dora’s been growing with Sam’s help, she loved those.”

“If you think that’ll work…” Tucker trailed off dubiously.

Danny laughed. “She’s annoying sometimes, but she’s not gonna fuck over my job if I ask her not to. I’ll just bribe her extra hard for resisting the temptation to mock me.”

“Fair enough.” The clacking of keys resumed. “I’ve really gotta pay attention now, someone’s trying to stop me from getting into this database. Someone half-decent, actually, did they upgrade? Hm. Make sure no one died, yeah?”

“They’re alive. Bye, Tuck,” Danny said, and ended the call.

He shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket and made his way down the stairs. The fight outside he had been stationed for was basically over—Captain Marvel and Green Lantern (Danny was pretty sure he had accidentally learned the dude’s actual name at some point, but hell if he could remember)—had pulled out the magic restraints one of the other consultants had handed out.

That had probably been Constantine. Ugh. Constantine. Dude could stand to lighten up a little; skulking and smoking all the time wasn’t the base state of someone enjoyable to be around. Then again, Danny knew he annoyed the shit out of some of the league with his own attitude, so he maybe shouldn’t talk. But at least he was annoying with a smile!

Case in point: Danny grinned at the heroes. “Got it handled?”

“Suppose so,” said the Green Lantern, “though a little more help would have been nice.”

Captain Marvel was too busy getting in a minor tussle with the demon to say anything either way.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m like, pretty mortal,” Danny said. “I’m not fucking with demons right where they can hit me. And I did shoot him!”

Green Lantern rolled his eyes, but admitted the point. Danny cheerfully flipped him off anyway.

“I’ll be heading out, then, the hellmouth this guy crawled out of is like three miles away.” Captain Marvel said, hauling the handcuffed demon over his shoulders like a very angry backpack.

“Oh, one more for the road!” 

Danny hit the demon with a final water gun shot. Hissing and scrunching their face like a cat, the demon tried to lunge at him. It wasn’t very successful. Weirdly non-verbal for a demon, who usually had to talk to make deals and steal mortal souls, but Danny wouldn’t judge. Might be a minor demon. A really basic imp? Who knew.

“Stop being a little bitch and you won’t get spray-bottled, asshole,” Danny chided.

With a loud laugh, Captain Marvel sped away.

[magenta-somethings]

trick or treat!

treat! (aka a snippet fic i ended up writing on the bus about tim asking yj for advice re: the huntress/nightwing/oracle situation)

“So, wait, Nightwing is dating Huntress?” asks Cassie.

“I don’t know what they’re doing!” Tim replies. “That’s half the problem.”

“And do we like Huntress?” asks Cissie.

“Yes—no—it’s complicated,” Tim replies. He’s doing a lot of replying and he doesn’t entirely like it—more out of an instinctual avoidance of being on the interrogatee side of an interrogation than anything else—but he had been the one to ask for advice. Which, in hindsight, may have been a mistake, but it’s one he’s now committed to. “I do like her. But she struggles with following Batman’s rules. I mean, we all do, but she struggles with the no killing aspect of it specifically.”

“But has she, like, actually killed anyone?” Kon asks. He’s floating in the air, cross-legged, with one of Cassie’s pillows hugged to his chest. It’s kind of cute—especially with his oversized Superman t-shirt, because, thankfully, he doesn’t actually sleep in his costume.

Not that Tim would ever say it’s cute out loud. 

“No, not since we started working together properly.”

Kon shrugs. “Then I don’t see the problem? Yeah, it’s majorly screwed that she’s killed but it also sounds like she’s changed." Tim might be imagining it, but he almost sounds wistful? "And being able to stand up to the bat seems like a point in her favour more than anything.” He pauses. “Plus, based on the picture you have of her, she’s a total babe.”

Tim just knew visual aids would be a mistake. This is on him for not being able to resist a corkboard. Cassie, acting on behalf of the team, throws a pillow at Kon. It does smack him in the face—he still needs to practice his catches—but before it can fall to the ground his TTK catches it and now he’s hugging two pillows and maybe that backfired slightly. 

Tim puts his corkboard face-down on principle. Huntress probably doesn’t even know he has the photo—her foot in the middle of kicking a bad guy’s face, her fist breaking the jaw of another. He doesn’t have much time for photography anymore, but sometimes he just itches to go out and capture Gotham and its heroes.  The photo of Nightwing, meanwhile, is him shoving his face full of pizza, a hand reaching out to try, in vain, to block the camera lens. 

Oracle, of course, is represented by her icon. He still hasn’t started thinking of her as Barbara.

“It’s not all about looks,” says Cassie. “Even if she is really hot.” She pauses. “Like, really hot.”

“Okay!” interrupts Tim. “That’s enough of that.” He did not need his friends calling his co-worker hot.

“Yeah, it really doesn’t matter,” agrees Cissie, and of course he can count on her to have his back. “Especially since Nightwing is way hotter than her.”

A part of Tim dies inside. Just shrivels up and expires, there and then.

“Okay, but Nightwing is hotter than, like, everyone,” points out Kon. That part of Tim is currently being cremated. “And cooler, and more badass. Or whatever.” 

“Most documentaries on 20th-21st century heroes talk about Nightwing’s attractiveness at least once,” says Bart offhandedly from the corner where he’s playing Polyp-mon. It’s one of his first contributions to the conversation. The part of Tim that died earlier is now having a funeral held in its honour. Suzie, at least, is still absorbed in the game. She’s spent the conversation peering over Bart’s shoulder, occasionally asking him to catch a specific polyp-mon. Though he doubts her additions would be worse than what is currently passing for advice.

“Guys, please,” Tim says, desperately trying to course-correct the conversation. God, it’s so much worse having them talk about how hot this co-worker is. “Stay focused on the problem.”

“Is that you like Oracle more?” asks Cissie.

Tim hesitates. Oracle is one of the most impressive people he knows, and getting to actually spend time with her—especially when it’s her teaching him about tech—is awesome, and she’s saved his life more times than he count or probably even knows about. But he’s only known her face-to-face for a short time, while he’s been fighting side-by-side with Huntress almost as long as he’s been acting properly as Robin. 

“That’s not what’s important,” he deflects. “What’s important is what’s best for Nightwing.”

“Right,” says Cissie. 

“What if they all just dated each other?” asks Bart

“You can do that?” asks Kon, at the same time as Tim says, “I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t fix it. In fact, I’m pretty sure that would make it worse.”

The silence stretches. 

“Well, good luck with that!” declares Cassie. “Now, who wants to watch Xena?”

Tim sighs, but let’s the hang-out move on. What’s happening with Nightwing, Huntress and Oracle is such a mess that there’s no way a bunch of teenagers are going to be able to untangle it, especially when most of them don’t have much experience in romance or life or both. Tim certainly doesn’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to having non-messy relationships. He’s sure Dick will figure it out. Eventually.

Kon floats down next to him as Cassie and Cissie go looking for the VHS, with that grin on his face that Tim just knows means he’s come up with some terrible joke. “Look on the brightside! When the divorce happens, you’ll have not one, not two, but three Christmases. Not four, because I’m pretty sure Batman doesn’t celebrate, but three is still pretty good.” 

“Yay,” says Tim, voice as flat as he can make it.

[djarins-cyare]

WIP Weekend

It’s been a while since I’ve made progress on any of my fics, but I’m trying my best to write something for Kate’s Roll-A-Trope Challenge, so I finally have something I can share a snippet of 🥳

Over the last 14 weeks, I’ve been tagged in 19 WIP Wednesday posts / Last Line games / WIP polls (yes, I keep track!), so thank you to the following lovely people for continuing to think of me even though I’ve been suspiciously quiet 💚:

@burntheedges @nerdieforpedro @604to647 @the-mandawhor1an

@kyberblade @almostfoxglove @for-a-longlongtime @djarins-wife

May I offer you some (totally unedited and marginally redacted) pre-spice Din and f!Reader in the trope genre of secret relationship below the cut…

Swallowing, you blink innocently and ask, “Is there anything else you need before I turn in?” You’re not particularly tired, but you should let him get some rest. Slowly, the angle of Mando’s helmet drops a few centimetres, and he releases a vibrant hum. The few seconds of silence that follow feel charged somehow, full of expectation, and just as you realise where he’s relocated his gaze to, he rumbles a reply in the lowest, sexiest register you’ve heard from him this evening. “So far, you’ve known exactly what I’ve needed without me having to ask.” He pauses again as he slowly tilts his helmet, the silence loaded with promise. “So you tell me. What do I need now?” Your eyes inadvertently dart to his crotch again and… shit. You’re pretty sure something’s happening down there. It looks… harder… larger (if that’s even possible). “You, uh….” Your attempt at an answer goes nowhere since you don’t know what to say. You want this, sure, but you shouldn’t. He’s injured, and you promised your uncle you’d keep your distance, not jump into an intimate act with the guy the first chance you get. After a few deep and shuddering breaths, you manage, “You need a good night’s sleep.” “I do,” he agrees. “But your question was whether I need anything else before you go to bed. Sleep comes after you go. What comes before?” Fuck. His words vibrate through you and disintegrate your misgivings. There’s no logical decision to answer in the way that you do; it just happens. “You… if you want.” A pleased hum resonates through the vocoder. “I do,” he agrees again. “The bacta took away the pain, but if you’re offering some pleasure too….” “Y-yes,” you blurt, halfway between eager and anxious. “But… my uncle will kill me if he finds out.” Mando chuckles. “He’d shoot me first. Our secret, then?” Your pussy dampens at the idea, eyes flashing as you nod your acceptance of his clandestine terms. Suddenly, a secret liaison with the apparently dangerous man you’re supposed to be avoiding for your own good sounds like the most desirable thing in the galaxy.

Yeah, you know me… I can’t just write a single scene; I have to write the whole damn relationship!

So, obviously, this is how their secret relationship gets off the ground. You may have gathered that Reader is a certain High Magistrate’s niece and has been given strict instructions to avoid the new resident of the cabin out on the lava flats. You can look forward to plenty of sneaking around, flimsy excuses, near misses, and suspicious confrontations. Oh, and smut 😏

I can’t believe I only have a month left to write all this. What have I signed up for? I’m so fucked…

*Hates self for not being able to write short stories* /jk

I’m clearly over-excited about finally having something for a WIP post, so I’m going wild and tagging a load of writer mutuals and favourites. Feel free to do any form of WIP post you choose, or ignore me entirely if you’re not up for posting snippets right now (either way, you’re all awesome) 💚

@5oh5 @abbonation @always-andromeda @captainredspade @court-jobi

@davnittbraes @din-cognito @dindjarindiaries @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter

@dumfanting @eatommo @evolnoomym @fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven

@fuckyeahdindjarin @galaxyedging @grogusmum @happy-beeeps @iamsherlocked-1998

@insomniamamma @ishabull @itsjuststardust @joelalorian @jolapeno

@lady-bess @lahooozaherr @larkoneironaut @littlemisspascal @magpiepills

@morallyinept @mothandpidgeon @newpathwrites @oonajaeadira @penvisions

@prolix-yuy @quicksilvermad @saradika @secretelephanttattoo @sixhours

@sp00kymulderr @studioghibelli @syd-djarin @the-blind-assassin-12 @theetherealbloom

@wannab-urs @whocaresstillthelouvre @whxtedreams @wrathkitty @yopossum