#not sure why because he hates looking at it

[sleepyhoon]

BAJA BLAST - S.JY

pairing. religious stepbro!jake x fem reader genre. drabble, porn w plot warnings. virgin perv jake, stepcest, religious themes, brief mention of alcoholism & death word count. 3.5k smut tags. degradation, dry humping (i guess…), handjob, jake sucks reader’s tits thru her shirt, p in v for like 30 seconds.

a/n. hmm trying to get into darker themes to expand my genres a bit more … not too sure how i feel abt it yet but it was interesting to explore a new trope! i understand darker tropes aren’t for everyone sooo feel free to skip over if this isn’t for you!! <3

———

“You’re disgusting, and you’re not gonna find a God-fearing husband if you keep parading yourself like a slut.”

Jake pries your legs open a little wider, further situating himself between your thighs as he smears his precum on the core of your panties. He glances up at you when you scoff, knees digging into the mattress as he drags the tip of his cock along your clothed cunt. “What?” he sneers, raising a brow at you.

“You have a girlfriend and you’re getting yourself off between someone else’s legs; you’re the slut,” Jake’s cock twitches in the palm of his hand at your insult, you take a mental note of this, “and, I don’t even want a God-fearing husband, whatever that is.”

“It means a religious husband, genius. None of them probably want you anyway, so the feeling is mutual.”

Degrading as it may be, this is the shit that gets Jake off; certainly not his prude, preacher’s daughter girlfriend who only allows him to kiss her for a few seconds at a time, because anything longer than that could be “too tempting”.

He didn’t hate Chaeyoung in the slightest, but he likely wouldn’t have made all that effort to court her had he known she was saving herself for marriage in every aspect. No lingering touches, no suggestive comments, and certainly no racy photos; the poor boy would’ve been fine with her sitting on his lap every now and then if it meant he’d get to jerk off from the weight of someone on top of him.

Much like Chaeyoung, Jake was on the treacherous path of saving himself for marriage, but even he allowed himself a bit of wiggle room. Saving himself entirely for marriage was beyond unrealistic, but he was willing to at least avoid shoving his dick in someone before there was a ring on his finger if it meant he could get off in other ways.

Jake didn’t have the heart to break up with Chaeyoung just because she wanted to stay pure until marriage, but he wasn’t planning on waiting that long to finally get his dick wet. Besides, breaking up with the preacher’s daughter for seemingly no reason was a bad look, especially considering that Jake was the youth pastor at the same exact church.

Aside from the pastor and his wife, Jake and Chaeyoung were the only couple treated as royalty in their church community. They were seen as devoted followers of Christ whilst showcasing what an appropriate, God-fearing, young, Christian couple should look like. From the outside looking in (or even just looking from his girlfriend’s perspective), they truly did resemble a perfect couple.

How Jake got into jerking off between his step-sister’s thighs was a long story.

His original plan was to keep his distance when he first met you a little over a year ago, a few months before his father was preparing to marry your mother. Jake didn’t take kindly to you at first, bewildered on how such a respectful, faith-driven woman such as your mother could produce a daughter the exact opposite of her. Your outfits were entirely too skimpy, you had a horrible attitude, and you had tattoos. In Jake’s eyes, you were the definition of sin.

And that’s exactly why he felt disgusted with himself when he realized he was desperately attracted to you.

It was horrible, the countless nights he’d spent jerking himself off to the thought of you sinking down on his cock and riding him until he passed out. He’s certain his stamina is low and would probably finish in under five minutes, but it doesn’t hurt to dream; and that he does.

Until you showed up to his apartment one Monday morning with a large Baja Blast from Taco Bell and a proposition.

“Taco Bell at ten in the morning, seriously?”

You hadn’t greeted him with a “Good morning!” or “Hey, how are you?” and instead jumped the gun and went straight into, “Hey, you know how my dad died?”

Jake held his front door open, running a hand through his messy, morning hair in confusion as he responded, “Wasn’t it from, like, alcoholism?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Yeah, but I meant like… you know that he’s dead, right? Also, Taco Bell serves breakfast, genius.”

“YN, it’s too early for this.” Jake says with a frustrated sigh, prepared to close the door in your face because it’s way too early to deal with your bullshit.

“I’m getting his inheritance from my grandmother, a huge one.”

Jake tried his best at attempting to hide the look of shock on his face. From his knowledge, your grandparents were loaded; practically rolling in money since the moment they were born. Having your father’s inheritance transferred to you was a blessing, Jake didn’t even want to imagine the useless crap you’d waste that money on.

“Congrats, did you come here to rub it in my face?”

You sighed, slightly embarrassed and a little defeated knowing you’d need Jake’s help. You felt entirely guilty for even coming to him in the first place, the two of you weren’t close and hardly spoke outside of gatherings, the only reason you showed up to his apartment was because you didn’t have his phone number; only his address you had to scroll in your GPS to find from the one time you drove him home.

“No, I’m not here to brag. I need your help.”

Jake hesitantly opened his door wider, allowing you into his home that you nervously pace around in. “Help with what?” he asked, locking the door behind him.

“I don’t get the inheritance until after my grandma dies.”

“YN, are you crazy?! I am not helping you kill your grandmother!”

“What?! Jake, no! God, just let me finish.” An awkward beat of silence passed before you continued, “She says I’m not getting the inheritance unless I get into religion and be involved in church.”

“Yeah, can’t help with that.” Jake took a moment to look you up and down, eyes focusing on the fresh tattoo right under your knee, “You’re gonna need a miracle.”

You followed behind Jake like a helpless puppy as he entered his kitchen, nervously toying with your fingers as you set your drink down on the kitchen counter, “I know we aren’t really close, and that’s partially my fault, but I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out with this.”

“With what, YN? You haven’t said what you’d need me to do.”

“Just, every so often, tell my family that I’m involved in church and help out. Shit like that.”

Jake chuckled, powering on his Nespresso, “As if that’s gonna work. You know your family goes to church, right? What are they gonna think if they don’t see you there but I’m telling them you showed up? They’d see right through it.”

“They don’t go every Sunday! I’ll just check ahead of time and go with them whenever they do go, and on the days they don’t go you’d be able to cover for me.”

Jake sighed with a shake of his head, reaching into his cabinet to retrieve a coffee mug, “It’s not just Sunday service, YN. They also go to bible study and help plan church events. Your family is very involved in the community.”

“Again, they don’t attend every event, right? I’ll go when they go and you cover when I can’t! And, besides, it’s not like they’re expecting me to go to every single event; as long as they think I’m putting in effort I’ll be fine.”

You seemed proud of yourself and your plan, which only annoyed your step-brother even further, because you clearly hadn’t thought this through.

“What’s in it for me?”

You paused, quirking a brow at Jake, “What do you mean?”

“We barely even know each other and you expect me to do this big favor for you for free? Be realistic.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“I want…half of the inheritance.”

“Jake, even you know that’s too much.”

Yeah, maybe he was being a little petty, but it was your own fault for asking for a favor like this and not offering him anything in return. He may not know the exact amount of your inheritance, but based on your reaction, it had to be a life changing amount of money; enough to give him a portion of.

“I’d rather not say what the exact amount is,” you start, looking down at your sneakers, “but it’s a lot, and I’m definitely willing to give you a fraction of it if you help me out. Just not half.”

“How much?”

“For you? Fifty-thousand.”

Jake dropped the ceramic mug to the ground, eyes widening as the cup broke and scattered across the kitchen floor. You flinched, jumping back on instinct while he remained frozen in place. “Fifty-thousand dollars?”

You wanted to tell him it’s truly nothing compared to the amount you’d have leftover, and that you’d offer him more if he insisted on it, but fifty-thousand seems to be enough for him. Instead, you nodded, carefully backing into the living room to avoid accidentally stepping on the ceramic shards.

“Does that work?”

It was too late to pretend your offer wasn’t more than he’d been expecting, but still, Jake had no reason to believe you’d hold up to your end of the deal; even if giving him fifty-thousand dollars would hardly make a dent in what you’d be receiving.

Jake shook his head, “I don’t know you, how can I trust you’ll actually give it to me?”

“You can’t just take my word?”

“The only word I take is the word of God.”

You should’ve seen that one coming.

Jake continued, “I want a down payment that I can receive now; something so that if you don’t pay me, I still got something out of our agreement.”

Intrigued, and a little frightened, you tilted your head at him, “Money?”

Jake shrugged in response, carefully stepping over the shards of ceramic, “Doesn’t have to be, your mom says you don’t have much of it.”

“I have money!”

Jake rolled his eyes, retrieving a broom and dustpan from the hallway closet, “Right, because your part-time barista job pays so much.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “I really don’t know what else to offer you.”

“Better think of something or you’re on your own.”

The sound of ceramic clicking together as Jake cleans filled the silence, leaving you to brainstorm on what he would accept as a down payment offer. Money wasn’t an option, and you didn’t know enough about Jake’s interests to offer him some sort of bribe.

However, Jake is a man. Yes, a religious one, but still a man. If you’re lucky enough, there’s one thing you could offer that no man, not even Jake, would pass up.

“Chaeyoung is saving herself for marriage, right?”

Jake paused, suspiciously glancing at you over his shoulder, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, but yes.”

You nodded, “Are you?”

“Again, not your business, but yes.”

“What about loopholes?”

Jake fully turned around this time, narrowing his eyes at you, “YN, where are you going with this?”

You shrugged, defensively raising your hands, “What if I was your loophole? Like, I help you get off however you want without actually having sex, so it won’t count as sinning. And, trust me, I won’t tell anyone.”

Jesus Christ, you seriously wanted the inheritance that bad?

Jake immediately wanted to accept the offer and drag you straight into his room, but he couldn’t; he had to be nonchalant about this or risk you revoking your suggestion.

He faked a look of disgust, a confused, twisted snarl on his face as he responded, “But, you’re my step-sister; isn’t that wrong?”

You shrugged, “I don’t care if you don’t. Plus, we’re adults and we barely even know each other, it’s not like our parents married years ago and we grew up as siblings.”

Fair point, not that Jake needed any further convincing.

“I’m not offering you this again, by the way. You either accept it now or you’ll never get the chance again,” you warn Jake, taking a seat down on the edge of his couch.

After a few long moments of pretending to weigh his options, Jake extended the end of the broomstick in your direction, slowly using the handle of it to lift your skirt. You didn’t react, your eyes following the edge of the broomstick as Jake continued his actions. He lowered his head slightly, confused as to why he couldn’t see your panties, until he realized.

You weren’t wearing any.

He cleared his throat, quickly pulling the broom away before leaning it up against the wall. “Sure, whatever, I guess. As long as you don’t tell anyone.”

Easiest deal of his life.

Jake made sure you kept to your end of the deal, and maybe took some advantage of it.

The first incident occurred a few weeks after the agreement, when Jake had to cover for you upon missing Sunday service due to you being hungover.

“She was up all night designing flyers for the coat drive next week,” Jake addressed your mother’s concerns, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “she really wanted to come to today’s service, but I told her she should get some rest.”

Your mother clutched her heart, staring up at Jake in complete awe, “YN? My YN?”

Jake nodded, a sheepish grin on his face as he responded, “The one and only.”

Your mother was skeptical, tilting her head at her stepson with her brows furrowed, “Just doesn’t sound like something she would do, unless there was something in it for her, of course. You’re not covering for her, are you?”

Jake faked a laugh, “The only thing YN is covered in is the blood of Jesus Christ.”

…And apparently Jake’s cum only a few hours later.

“…Now, guess who’s stuck designing flyers for the coat drive? Me!”

“I told you I would do it, you little brat,” your fist tightens around Jake’s clothed cock and he groans, squeezing his eyes shut at the new, uncomfortable, yet pleasant sensation.

You were slightly off-put and a little humored when Jake showed up to your apartment requesting, “A handjob but I, like, keep my boxers on. Like, just do it through my clothes.”

“Wouldn’t you rather…have your boxers off?”

“Are you nuts? I’m not letting you touch me,” he’d said, unbuttoning his dress pants as he lowered himself on your mattress.

You obliged his request, awkwardly rubbing him through his boxers, watching as his facial expressions changed so quickly and constantly. His brows would furrow then relax, lips would twitch before sinking his teeth in them, all while he tried his best not to finish embarrassingly quick.

Which didn’t work.

Jake was already on the edge of cumming when you lowered your head down to his groin, placing a small peck against the head of his clothed cock, the material sticky and wet from his precum.

His body jolts at the touch, arching off the mattress with swears spewing from his lips as his orgasm washed over him. He shoves his boxers down in record time, grinning to himself when you groan in agony when his cum lands on your cheek.

Had you been literally anyone else, maybe Jake would’ve felt bad that he came so quickly and didn’t have the energy nor interest to give you anything in return; but he didn’t. This was an agreement, and as long as the two of you held to both your ends of the deal, there was nothing to feel bad about. He didn’t owe you anything else.

Surprisingly enough, the arrangements weren’t happening as frequently as Jake hoped they would.

You immersed yourself into the church community, showing up to Sunday Worship and Bible Study as if it were a second nature. Jake should be proud, really, that you’re serious about being devoted; even if it was under the premise of obtaining your father’s inheritance, but he’s pissed.

He waited weeks for you to slip up, intentionally scheduling a Bible Study session or some church fundraiser at a time where he knows you’ll be busy and have no choice to skip, but you show up.

To every fucking event. Until you don’t.

Your younger cousin was getting baptized and you missed it, and if it weren’t for Jake making up some lame excuse and covering for your ass, your mother would’ve gone ballistic on you.

Jake’s happy to cover for you, though, knowing he’d be getting something in return not too long afterwards.

After weeks of feigning, that simple slip up was how Jake found him back between your thighs, pumping his cock along the outline of your cunt through your thin panties.

“Whatever,” you sneer, propping yourself up on your elbows, “marriage is the last thing on my mind right now.”

Jake rolls his eyes, pausing and grateful at the fact that he has a better of your tits. For some godforsaken reason, the air conditioner in your home is always on full blast, and despite assuring your guests that you don’t feel that cold, your body certainly says otherwise; if the way your hardened nippled poke through your shirt is anything to go by.

He licks his lips, pumping his dick a little faster as he leans down and traces his tongue along your clothed nipple. You’re saying something, maybe asking him what he’s doing or to keep going, but he can’t hear you; having you like this is new territory for him, nothing else in the world mattered at this moment.

His saliva stains your t-shirt as he continues, moaning against your chest as he flicks his tongue against your bud. Jake lightly traps your nipple between his teeth, tugging on it just enough to sting before releasing it once again, lapping his tongue against it as if to apologize.

Your hand moves to his hair, giving it a tight grip as Jake moans before shoving your arm away entirely. “Are you insane?! Don’t touch me!”

“But-”

“Wait.”

Fuck, that felt good. It wasn’t much but it felt so fucking good.

He needed more of you, fuck all this waiting for marriage bullshit. He tried his best for as long as he could, and he doesn’t want to fucking wait anymore.

“I wanna try something,” he mumbles, wasting no time in pushing your panties to the side. The sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his mouth water, and Jake swears he can hear a choir of angels singing as he stares down at it in awe.

“Jake, I thought-”

“Fuck that,” Jake is quick to cut you off, already knowing what your next words were, “I don’t wanna wait anymore; show me how.”

“How to what?”

“The one thing you know how to do.”

“Oh, fuck you. You’re such an asshole.” You say, but it doesn’t stop you from maneuvering your right hand between your bodies and gripping the base of Jake’s cock, encouraging him to scoot forward as you guide him directly to your hole.

You don’t move him any further, making the choice of letting Jake decide whether he’s serious about this.

He is.

He presses the head of his cock further into you, squeezing his eyes shut as you wrap around him so snug and perfect. He stills his movements, head dropping to your shoulder with a groan.

It’s already too much and he’s not even halfway in. It feels too good, so wet and warm and tight, better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“Fuck…”, he mumbles into your shoulder, taking note of how none of this barely had an effect on you.

“It’s okay,” you assure him in an oddly sweet tone, “try moving.”

“I can’t, think I’m gonna come if I do.”

“You’ll be fine, just-”

Jake lets out a loud, frustrated groan as he raises his head away from your shoulder, “You wouldn’t fucking get it.”

Jake spent too many countless nights imagining this very scenario, and now that it’s finally happening he can barely even handle it. Everything feels too good and it’s all too much for him to bear.

He pulls his dick out of you entirely, giving himself a few hard pumps as his impending orgasm approaches. It looks almost painful, the way he’s gripping and pumping his cock, how red his tip is, you’re surprised a few tears don’t slip from his eyes when he finally does finish, painting your thighs with his cum as his body trembles.

He rests a shaky hand on your knee, grip on his cock softening as he makes a mess across your panties, thick, white ropes of cum staining your underwear.

“Fuck,” Jake mumbles to himself as he steadies his breathing. He’s never came this hard before, to the point where he feels exhausted and genuinely empty.

“Are you…okay?” You ask, cringing at the sticky feeling between your thighs.

Jake nods slowly, sitting himself up as he tucks his now-softened cock back into his boxers, “Let’s, uh, get cleaned up so we can go.”

His head his spinning as he rises from your bed, a dizzy feeling coming over him as he stands. Fuck, maybe this is why he should’ve waited for marriage.

“Go where?”

“Bible study is starting soon,” he explains, “if we leave now we can stop by Taco Bell beforehand, I need a Baja Blast.”

[heich0e]

"so... how's work?"

you accidentally click the edge of your wine glass against your teeth as you tip it back, jarred by the strange question from the man standing at your side. you swallow the tiny mouthful of wine you manage to sip, turning to look at suna in bewilderment.

"work?" you ask him incredulously. "why are you asking me about work?"

suna rintarou doesn't care about what you do for work. truthfully speaking, you're not sure he even knows what you do for work—you certainly don't remember ever telling him, and the memory would stand out quite starkly considering all you ever seem to do when you run into him is bicker with him uselessly.

suna is a friend of a friend. or a friend of some friend's ex. or something. all you know is that every so often the two of you end up at the same social event, and there's something about the guy's face that just... makes you want to pick a fight.

and he has yet to turn down your instigation.

your friends all think it's funny—like you're some kind of comedy duo, and this is your special bit—but you don't see the charm in the slightest. you suspect they've started inviting you both to events just to have some entertainment.

"what?" rintarou asks, fiddling with his cellphone in his hand—pinching it between his thumb and his ring finger while he twirls it with his index. "i'm not allowed to ask about work? isn't that normal small talk for a christmas party?"

you're a little taken aback by his words. first of all, because he's right (which you hate). second of all, because he seems strangely defensive about it.

"normal for other people, maybe," you mutter, more to yourself than anything, before taking another tiny sip of wine. you swallow it, but somehow it doesn't help the dry feeling in your mouth. you're not sure you like this particular wine, you think, as bitterness clings to your tongue. "work is... fine."

suna perks up beside you at that, and you feel his eyes on your profile like he's waiting for you to go on.

"things get, uh... things get slow this time of year, so I'm mostly just answering stupid emails and ordering gifts online while i sit at my desk." you swirl the glass of wine in your hand, watching the way that the light catches in the deep red surface. "my section chief has kids and loves the holidays, so she's been pretty checked-out lately, herself. makes it easy to get away with slacking off."

you risk a glance over at him, and are somewhat dismayed to find him listening intently.

"must be nice to get a little break," he offers.

"yeah, i guess," you reply. your words are in agreement with him, but still your brow furrows.

what the fuck is going on?

you look around the room, as though checking for a hidden camera, or some other sign that might give away what the hell this guy's motives are. but around you is simply a room of friends enjoying each other's company—sipping drinks; eating finger foods the hosts had been carefully set out to graze on; chatting amongst each other about their lives, their holiday sweaters, their work.

everything seems totally normal, other than what's transpiring in the quiet corner where you and suna rintarou find yourselves standing side by side.

"how is... your... work?" you manage to ask, though it sounds as though the question is pulled from you with considerable effort. stiff and strained in every way a question so innocuous doesn't have any right to be.

suna laughs a little under his breath, masks it with a clearly fake cough, and then rests his hand over his mouth. he's smirking. you know he is. he's revelling in every second of your discomfort like the twisted little freak he is.

you're about to tell him as much, but he cuts you off.

"it's good," he replies to your pained question with an unexpected sincerity. "we're coming up to the half-way point in the season, so training is still pretty intense. we do get a day off for the holiday though."

right, he's a volleyball player. you'd learned that upon your first meeting, before your opinion of him was quite so hostile. you remember thinking at the time that he looked like a volleyball player—tall, lean, with big hands that made the beer can he'd been holding look almost laughably small in comparison.

you glance down at those hands again, still idly fidgeting with his cellphone. he's not drinking a beer tonight, and you wonder if maybe it's because he's in the middle of his season.

you think about asking him.

but you don't.

suna seems to be waiting for you to say more, but when you don't, he continues on the conversation himself. "i thought about taking the train to hyogo for the day, but it wouldn't really make sense just to go visit for a few hours."

you take another sip of your wine. you decide that you do not in fact enjoy it.

you hum a bit, ditching your mostly full glass on the edge of a table that rests within reach. "tough to just make a day trip, especially since the weather's so..." you trail off, gesturing vaguely with your now empty hand in a way that's supposed to indicate the unreliability of the winter climate.

suna laughs.

you look at him in confusion.

"the weather?" he asks you, rubbing at his mouth again like he trying to hide the expression underneath his fingertips. it might work if his eyes didn't crinkle at the corner when he smiles. "we're talking about the weather now?"

your lips part indignantly at his jibe. he's the one who'd initiated this hellscape of small talk, and now he had the nerve to chide you for it?

"oh, i'm sorry," you guffaw, feigning remorse, "is there some pressing matter you'd rather discuss?"

rintarou dips closer to you from his greater height, and the fact that he's so much taller than you are only irritates you more.

"there is actually," he says with a nod.

"oh, yeah?" you roll your eyes, gearing up for a fight. you turn to face him properly, tilting your chin up to meet him eye to eye without wavering. "and what's that?"

"are you aware that we've been standing under mistletoe for the entirety of this conversation?"

you slowly look overhead.

like something out of a horror film, you find that for once in his life (or at least the few months you've known him) suna's chosen to say something factual. overhead, a little bundle of mistletoe has been affixed to the ceiling with a piece of tape that seems to barely be hanging on—the decoration at risk of falling at any moment.

you feel sick.

"so what?" you ask him, swallowing down that feeling of dread and maintaining (what you hope is) an air of indifference.

"so that means we're supposed to kiss," he tells you matter-of-factly, almost a bit pointedly, like he can't believe you didn't know.

"i'm aware of that," you hiss. "i don't, however, bend to the whims of plants, as a general rule."

"weird rule," he remarks, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

you feel a throb of irritation behind your eyes.

"you're the one who came over here to bother me," you point out. "if you knew there was mistletoe hanging up there, that means this is your fault."

suna shrugs a bit.

you keep going, your pulse thrumming beneath your tongue and fanning the flames of irritation churning in the pit of your stomach.

"if anything, that makes you the weird one for coming up with some scheme to trick me. we're not children. if you wanted to kiss me so bad you could have just aske—"

"can i kiss you?"

what?

"i asked if i can kiss you," rintarou says, and you're not sure if that means you voiced your thought aloud or it was just plainly written across your face. he inches closer to you, and though you would usually shift away to accommodate for the intrusion, the table where you'd discarded your glass of wine keeps you mostly trapped in place. pinned. cornered. "you said that if i wanted to kiss you, i should ask. so, i'm asking if i can kiss you."

why?

suna sighs after a moment of contemplating the look of abject shock on your features, slumping forward and resting his forehead on the wall beside your head, caging you against the wall with his lanky frame. you can't breathe with him this close—too startled by the proximity and the warmth radiating from him to even think about drawing air into your lungs. too confused by this entire situation to meet your basic human needs.

"you really don't get it, do you?" he asks quietly. he's so near that you feel his words more than you hear them—especially since they were spoken so quietly just next to your ear.

"get what?" your own voice sounds distant—sounds strange—to you when you finally manage to speak.

suna pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, and you're shocked to see just how pink his face is. he looks mortified—and desperate—as his eyes find yours. he tilts his face towards you, and when he speaks again you feel the warmth of his breath break against your lips.

"you're the only person in this room who i'd enjoy listening to talk about the weather."

and it's not until much later, when the lingering bitterness from the wine has been replaced by something much sweeter (though entirely unexpected) on your tongue, that you realize rintarou was the only person in the room tall enough to reach the ceiling.

a/n: for nana, who forced me to write this entirely against my will but whom i love dearly in spite of it

[nemesyaaa]

sweet nothing || rafe x reader x sarah

summary : it's okay to want them both.

warnings : minors dni. smut. stepcest (no incest/rafe and sarah are not implied together.). oral (f&m receiving.). bisexual!reader. mean!rafe but meaner!sarah. controlling. cunt inspections. jealousy. daddy issues. manipulation. strap mentions. spit kink. i don't feel like it's a dark content but just in case. please, be aware of the warnings before reading.

author's note : /

“ Rafe is not allowed in it. ”

Sarah Cameron didn't want to share you. As the high Kook Princess that she was, she always got what she asked for. She never had to sweat or bleed to get what she wanted. So if she wanted you to be hers, you were hers.

But that meant there could only be her in your life because there was no way she was sharing her girlfriends with Rafe. She had always been the crueler of the two. It wasn't surprising since Ward had always favored her. If she acted like this, it was because she had always been allowed to. It was too hard for Ward to deny her anything. And if he couldn't be tough and firm with her, he needed to be with someone else.

And Rafe was so easily the perfect prey.

Just like you were Rafe's perfect victim when Ward was evil to him.

You were only there because his father married your mother. You were just an outsider to this degenerate family and yet you were now part of a conflict of interest between the two siblings.

in fact, it has been terribly easy for Rafe to have power over you and to abuse it. Since you suffered from a father who had never been there for you, and you refused Ward to be that father figure for you, he simply had to use your daddy issues to his advantage.

so he had always looked for the slightest fault or failure in you. he was going to find any excuses for you to cry in his arms. also, he was very controlling. you weren't sure of the outfit you wanted to wear? he knew how to compliment you. Did he hate your outfit? he also knew how to make you insecure about it. he was an expert in manipulation since he was a compulsive liar.

you weren't just his stepsister, you were his fucking forbidden fruit.

you were too perfect, too good, too clean. but he wasn't like sarah. if he wanted you, he was going to damage you and destroy you. Rafe wasn't good at taking care of people. He had a terrible view of affection. He wasn't even sure what it was.

You were so adorable that it hurt, that he wanted to make you suffer.

He knew he could never make Sarah suffer, and that he was secretly the only one suffering from this distance between the two of them. Because Sarah was meaner. People always stayed with her despite the suffering she inflicted on them. Because she was so much better than him in terms of playing the victim.

he also hated the fact that you preferred sarah more than him. why did he always have to be the one who sweats and bleeds to be appreciated while sarah just had to bat her eyelashes to get everyone under her spell ? it was unfair.

and without meaning to, he had started to categorize you like her, a simple bitch among the others. except he needed you to know it, he needed you to be treated like one to be happier. and damn, he deserved this happiness. more than you, more than sarah. more than anyone in this house.

he hated the way you stayed together like sweethearts, even though you were far from being angels.

" think sarah would appreciate seeing you like that ? being such a whore for me, think she would pay you the same respect after seeing you drooling for my dick ?"

his voice was so sharp that you gulped hard under his words.

you were on your knees, mouth stuffed deep by his cock. your corners were dripping as you gave him a sloppy head for a few minutes raw. he held your head by the hair while you gagged on him which served as an excuse for him to degrade you even more. you were so pathetic, willing to do anything to satisfy him. your mouth was working so hard that it felt like it was always meant for this, to be used and treated so dirty.

he was so hard that you could feel every inch of his dick inside your mouth. every noise you made was sucked away by the wet sound of your lips around his cock.

“you can cry all you want, maybe those tears will help you get my dick wet and nice. if you don't like me being mean to you, you should learn it before choosing this bitch over me. ”

you continued to pump him, while he forced your throat with his thrusts, his heavy hips slamming down your cheeks.

“ tongue out...such a pretty girl...” he mocked you, tear-jerking more cries from you. “better swallow what I give you. don't disappoint me twice, i can't fail you. ”

he lost his patience with you so he didn't care that he was cold, and that you took it so badly. that was all you deserved.

he had spat on your tongue, once, twice, until he saw his spit sliding down your throat, until he saw the large glob foaming around his cock, creating a web around his glistening red tip. you were so messy and dirty like a dog after a walk.

and you made him even harder when you took him this far in your mouth. he could feel you struggling and gasping for air. you were so miserable that it made him feel better to see someone even more pathetic than him for once.

“ what's up, pretty ? thought you were an angel but you're such an evil thing. ”

you tried so hard to speak back but his dick was hanging out your jaw to the point all your drool was dripping from your chin. you were such a mess, unable to talk, unable to think. he was fucking your face, tearing your lips apart with the length of his cock. he was driving his shaft so fast in your mouth that you were just good at choking on it. he wrapped a hand around your neck and smirked when he could feel your throat bulging around his dick. your tears were hot, and your cheeks soaked with spit and cries.

he spat on your face, watching his spittle drip down your cheekbones like tears before smearing it on your cheeks.

“ repeat after me. say i'm good to you. now, say it. "

oh yes, he needed to hear it. he needed to hear from you that he was good for you. he needed to hear you say that you didn’t need anyone but him. he needed to feel important to someone.

“ y-y-our good to...me...hmpf...”

your muffled words were enough to make him cum.

he had released everything in your mouth, splashing it deep down your stomach.

but it wasn't just rafe.

sarah also had this need for control over you. she started to establish her territory on you.

her brother didn't deserve to have someone like you. pretty and angelic girls were only reserved for girls.

“rafe isn’t allowed in it.”

you thought it would end there but she had opened your thighs to slip her fingers inside your folds. you were already terribly wet as if you had been hearing about her touch all evening.

but she didn't want to make you cum. no sarah cameron wanted to make sure no one made you cum before. she inspected every corner of your pussy with her fingers.

at first, she just checked the inside, before starting to pump it in and out, watching you getting wetter with her fingers working in your insides. her thrusts were fast and deep but also insanely forceful, leading you to take the heavy pace she was driving onto you. you were panting and crying like a crybaby, as you could feel every of her digits bruising your walls.

you thought Rafe was mean but Sarah was meaner.

her fingers were tearing apart your canal, literally opening you too deep and you were supposed to be quiet because all your family was sleeping. and you didn't want to be caught in that position, especially when the situation was already so shameful. you didn't want anyone to know about your secrets.

“ say it. say that you prefer me over him. ” she urged you as she was scissoring you quicker, making you squirm over her fingers.

she was supposed to be your gentle princess, the delicate sweetheart that took you on amazing day to make girlies activities, but also the kook queen that spoiled you everytime you wanted something, but also the good sister that help you dress and listen to your matters but now you were just her pathetic whimpering dirty slut.

you were the toy that she's gonna use until she was satisfied and tired of it.

“ and you better say it like you mean it. because i can be pretty good, but also, really bad. and you don't want your step sister to be mean to you ? you don't want her to be your worst nightmare ? ”

she was scaring you at this point, but he really worked. you felt a lot of things inside your body, and your mind was so fucked up. her smile was so wicked, but less than the fingers curled inside your weeping core. the way she was so cruel, calling your brain a real pussy for being so useless and making you so wet by the way she was degrading you.

“ you…you're far better, sarah. ” you moaned, but she muffled your noises with her hand by putting her fingers inside your mouth.

“ i don't want to see you with that loser anymore. let him cry, it's the only thing he's good at it. ” she paused before continuing. “ I thought you were like me…but you're just like him. i really need to change that. ”

she knelt in front of you before spitting on your pussy. she waited for the spit to make its way down to your soaked slick to slide her tongue inside your parts. you forced yourself not to scream but you felt awful.

she was just too good.

you promised rafe not to hang out with sarah anymore, but you also promised sarah the same thing. as they both played with you, you allowed yourself to betray each of them. it was their fault. they had both taught you to be selfish.

her tongue was so warm. she had barely slipped it between your folds when you were already getting wet on her mouth. as she licked you, causing the inside of you to spasm, her chin was stuck to your weeping slit.

her tongue was toying with your cunt. you were so good, a fucking heaven. she mixed her spit with the foaming wetness at your entrance. she forced you to stay still, threatening you with her eyes and controlling your body with a hand on your tummy.

she didn't forget your clit and she also played with your arched bud to the point of making it bruise. her mouth was wrapped to your pussy, latched on and licking it, collecting every stream of your pussy.

she has so much power over you.

all her thrusts were so perfect. she absolutely wanted that if someone touched you here, you would remember that it belonged to her.

she wanted you to think of her every time someone touched you, just like Rafe wanted you to only think of him if someone entered you.

except you were free. with sarah, you only thought of her. with rafe, you only thought of him. you were not a toy. you had feelings. and you weren't going to get into their stupid, competitive games.

when sarah took a strap out of her drawer, you looked at her with wide eyes. you have never gone this far before. she reassured you while you watched her put it around her waist.

“what do you want..."

she laughed in a sharp mocked tone. oh where you sweet girl at? “I don't want anything. it's just what you need. because you like to think about dick, i'm gonna show what's a real cock is. now, enough. turn around. i don't want to see your face anymore. ”

“you're just so mean sometimes. ” you cried softly, before you obeyed her like the good girl you were .

“oh that why your tears for? should them be for letting a pathetic man fucking you behind my back. now you want to cry this much? Fine, it's all I want to hear from you. ”

That was how you ended up between the two Cameron but you were unable to make a choice. why were you forced to?

“sarah said i look pretty in that dress.” you started.

“let me choose something better for you then. don't you want to be beautiful ? "

“I thought I was always beautiful to you.”

“you are but only so when you wear what I tell you to wear.”

you hated it when he was controlling like that but it was impossible for you to resist him which you hated even more. you wanted to please him.

“burn that shit.” he commanded you.

“you’re joking, right?”

rafe remained silent to let you know that he was serious.

one other day, he gave you a necklace with his initial, and you blinked a lot of times. “I’m not going to wear that.”

"yea, you're gonna wear that. i want people to know what's mine."

"They're going to talk, you know..."

" why? because you're my sister. we're not related. from what i've know, you've only got my cum inside you. not my blood. "

"it's not because everyone knows on the island that you're fucked up that i'm…”

now he was pissed. you had abused his patience. and what you had just said to him had just stung him and hell, he hated that feeling because he wasn't supposed to feel anything for you. you weren’t good enough to him to have the upper hand over his emotions.

he walked towards you, and you backed away, slightly frightened. you knew he was in trouble so you were afraid of what he could do to you.

“come here, sweetheart. I’m not mad.”

he lied. and you knew it, tears had started to fall down your face.

Usually, Sarah was there when Rafe wanted to go after you but this time she wasn't. you were stuck with him so he had the advantage.

"you know I wouldn't hurt you. I'm incapable of hurting you."

he lied again.

it was all lies. with him.

"liar! you lied! you hurt me everytime."

“you are the only one who lies. "

oh evil.

"i always took care of you. and you better not forget how kind and patient I've been with you because I'm tired of being the one who has to take everything in this house. sarah, my father and now you? no, it's not going to happen. "

“what?”

"last chance, sweetheart. come here.”

you rolled your eyes.

“ do that shit one more time and i'm gonna make them roll in a way you're not gonna find it funny. ”

“ you're not my father, why should i listen to you ? ”

you lift your gaze to see a smirk on his face, before he pinned you down the door and lock it behind your back, his weight was heavily pressed on your body. “ don't act like you're listening to your daddy, you're far from a good girl. ”

“ that's not what you said to me earlier in the morning…”

another day it was sarah. you were coming back from a family day where everyone was there except Rafe. you didn’t know if he hadn’t been invited or if he hadn’t wanted to come. but in any case, everyone had been there.

when you got home, you followed sarah to her room. you loved spending time with her so much. Today, you learned to surf, ate ice cream with wheezie, built sandcastles, and met her pogues crew.

you left out the detail where you saw her kiss a certain john b because it made your heart hurt.

you didn't know what sarah found in men. topper and now this john b. but could you blame her when you were doing worse behind her back?

when sarah closed the door, you blocked her against it to kiss her. you forced her mouth to open in frustration, and she kissed you too, possessively. it was like your feelings were speaking through your lips. your tongue was furiously curled against hers, and your mouth violently smacked on her.

“ i don't like to see you with him. ”

“ do i owe you something ? ” she simply replied, arms crossed over her chest. “ i ask you a question. ”

“ oh come on, you don't need to be a bitch with me. ”

“ why ? i feel like it's the only way to interact with you. ”

“ are you mad at me ? ”

“ because you're still fucking with my brother ? if you can play, i will play too. ”

“ fine, i don't care. kiss all the boys you want. but don't forget that the taste you're seeking for is somewhere else. ”

“ now, you're against me ? rafe really fucked you’. fine too, stay with that jerk but don't forget who's dick between his and mine making you cum three time raw. ”

“ god, you're so annoying. ” you exploded. “ why can't things be simple ? “

“ because we want you both and you want us both. ”

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴊ ᴀ ʏ ʙ ɪ ʀ ᴅ ⸻

Pairing: Dark Jason Todd x Fem Reader Part 2

Summary: He didn't expect to see someone like you. It was annoying at first, you were annoying. But he don't know when it start to change. Maybe this feeling was there since the day you smiled at him for the first time...

Warning: Teenagers in love ig?

Notes: This part is Jason's memories. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Wayne Manor was too much. Too big, too clean, too quiet. Jason hated it. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself as he followed Bruce through the front doors.

It wasn’t just the size of the place that bothered him. It was everything. The warmth that lingered in the air, like someone actually lived here instead of just passing through. The way the walls didn’t feel like they were pressing in on him, like they used to in the cramped, crumbling apartment he used to call home.

Jason’s fists clenched inside his jacket pockets as he stepped further inside, his boots scuffing against the polished floor. He didn’t belong here.

He kept his head down, unwilling to meet Bruce’s eyes. This was temporary. A rich guy playing charity case with some kid from Crime Alley—nothing more. Jason wasn’t about to let himself get comfortable.

Then he saw her.

She was sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, her elbows resting on her knees, like she’d been waiting. Her head tilted slightly when she noticed him, and then she smiled.

It wasn’t the kind of smile Jason was used to. Not the fake ones people forced because they had to. This one was different. It was warm, reaching her eyes in a way that made something in his chest tighten uncomfortably.

“This is Jason,” Bruce said, his voice calm and steady as he rested a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “He’ll be staying with us.”

Jason stiffened under Bruce’s touch, his eyes flicking back to her. She stood, her movements light and unhurried, and walked toward him. Not too fast, not too slow. Just enough to make him feel like she wasn’t trying to crowd him.

When she stopped, she was close enough for Jason to see the brightness in her eyes. She looked at him like she actually saw him—not the kid from the streets, not the screw-up. Just… him.

“Hi, Jason,” she said, her voice soft and easy. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Jason stared at her outstretched hand. He didn’t move.

Why was she looking at him like that? Like she meant it? No one ever did that. No one ever meant it.

He almost turned away, almost muttered something rude just to get her to stop looking at him like that. Sweet, kind people like her—they never stuck around. They never meant it.

But she didn’t move. Didn’t pull her hand away. She just stood there, waiting, her head tilting slightly as if she were trying to figure him out.

Jason’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like this. Didn’t like her. Or maybe he didn’t like the way she made him feel, like she’d cracked open a part of him he’d long since buried.

But he didn’t want to seem rude either—not when she was just standing there, smiling at him like he was worth something. So, reluctantly, he reached out and shook her hand.

Her hand was soft. Warm. It felt strange against his, like it didn’t belong to the same world he came from.

“You’re going to love it here,” she said, her voice sure and steady.

Jason wanted to scoff, to tell her she didn’t know anything about him or what he’d been through. But when he looked at her, at the way her eyes shone like she truly believed what she was saying, the words caught in his throat.

“Yeah. Sure,” he muttered, pulling his hand back quickly.

She didn’t seem bothered by his tone. If anything, her smile grew wider. It was disarming in a way Jason hated—because it made him want to believe her.

“I’ll show him around!” she said, glancing back at Bruce before looking at Jason again.

Jason almost protested. He didn’t need a tour, and he definitely didn’t need her looking at him like that—like he wasn’t just another lost cause. But when she turned back to him, her eyes still warm, still full of something Jason didn’t recognize, he found himself hesitating.

“Come on,” she said, motioning for him to follow her.

Jason trailed behind her, his hands shoved back into his jacket pockets. He didn’t trust her, not yet. But there was something about the way she walked, the way she turned back to glance at him like she actually cared, that made him want to trust her.

And for the first time in longer than he could remember, Jason didn’t feel like he was completely alone.

Jason didn’t laugh. Not really. Not anymore.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had—not since before his mom died, maybe even before that. Laughter felt like something from another life, a luxury reserved for people who didn’t have to scrape by every day just to survive.

But somehow, she managed to change that.

They were sitting in the den. Bruce had called it a “common area,” but Jason couldn’t help thinking of it as some kind of museum with its pristine furniture and towering shelves of books. He didn’t belong here, and he felt it with every fiber of his being.

She didn’t seem to notice, though. She’d plopped down on the carpet next to him with a grin, cross-legged like they were at some middle school hangout and not in a billionaire’s mansion. She’d been talking, her words bubbling out as she shared some ridiculous story about a squirrel that had stolen Alfred’s tea biscuits earlier that day.

At first, Jason barely listened. He was used to tuning people out, especially when they were as chipper as she was. But her voice had a way of pulling him in, light and warm.

“And then Alfred’s standing there with the broom,” she was saying, her eyes wide with faux dramatics, “like he’s about to duel the squirrel. I swear, it was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She mimicked Alfred’s stiff posture and the way he’d apparently shouted, “Out, you fiend!” at the tiny intruder. Her voice cracked at the end, and she doubled over laughing, her shoulders shaking with pure joy.

Jason couldn’t help it. The corner of his mouth twitched. Just a little at first, almost unnoticeable, but then her laugh hit him—a bright, contagious sound that echoed in the big, quiet room. Before he knew it, he let out a soft chuckle.

He tried to stop himself, but she noticed. Her head snapped up, and she gasped like she’d just discovered buried treasure.

“Was that a laugh?” she asked, pointing at him. “Did Jason Todd just laugh?”

Her mock-serious tone and exaggerated expression did something to him. The chuckle turned into a quiet laugh, and then it built—small and hesitant, like it wasn’t used to being there. She gasped again, clutching her chest like she was witnessing a miracle, and that was it.

Jason lost it.

He laughed harder than he had in years, his head tipping back as his chest heaved. It wasn’t a controlled laugh, either—it was wild, raw, and unfiltered. Tears pricked his eyes, and he tried to wipe them away, but every time he looked at her, still wide-eyed and grinning, it started all over again.

She didn’t even know what she’d done to make him laugh, which only made it funnier. She started laughing too, a little confused but clearly enjoying it.

“Jason!” she managed to get out between giggles. “What—what’s so funny?”

“I don’t even—” he tried, but the words were swallowed by another round of laughter.

Jason’s sides hurt, his cheeks ached, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the heavy weight he always carried. He felt… light.

When they finally calmed down, she was lying back on the carpet, staring at the ceiling with a big, goofy smile on her face. Jason was sitting up, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes, his breath still uneven.

“I don’t know how you do it,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Do what?” she asked, rolling onto her side to face him.

He didn’t answer right away. He couldn’t tell her what he was really thinking—that she’d made him feel human again, even if just for a moment. That her laughter had warmed something inside him he’d thought was frozen solid.

Instead, he smirked and said, “Make a complete idiot out of yourself.”

She gasped, pretending to be offended, and tossed a pillow at him. But he caught the twinkle in her eyes, the way her smile lingered even as she rolled her eyes at him.

Jason didn’t laugh often. But now, sitting there with her, he thought maybe it was okay to let himself feel something good every once in a while.

“C’mon, Jaybird,” she said, her voice low and mischievous. “We’re ditching Bruce tonight.”

Jason froze mid-step, glancing toward where Bruce had gone, his figure already disappearing into the darkness. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said, tugging on his arm before leaping to the next rooftop. “Follow me!”

He didn’t know why he listened—maybe it was the way she said his name, like it was the only thing that mattered in that moment. Maybe it was the sheer audacity of ditching the Big Bad Bat himself. Or maybe it was just her.

Jason followed her, her laughter trailing behind her like music as she led him through Gotham’s skyline. They landed in a quiet corner of the city, far from the chaos, where a small ice cream cart sat under a flickering streetlight.

“Seriously?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow as she handed him a cone.

“Seriously,” she said, already taking a bite of hers. “Even vigilantes deserve ice cream.”

He rolled his eyes but took a bite anyway, the cold sweetness melting on his tongue. It was stupid, he thought, standing there in his Robin suit, eating ice cream like a kid. But when she smiled at him, all he could do was smile back.

They walked a little farther, finding a spot on a hill overlooking the city. Fireworks were bursting in the distance, painting the night sky with flashes of color. She plopped down on the grass, patting the spot beside her.

Jason sat, feeling oddly out of place in the quiet. His lips twitched into a small smile, and he glanced at her, unsure what to say. Her face was close, too close, and before he could think of something snarky to deflect, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

Jason’s eyes widened. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it.

He didn’t know what to do. She was so close, and her warmth seeped through his suit, chasing away the chill of the Gotham night. It wasn’t like she was heavy—she fit perfectly there, like she belonged.

Jason swallowed hard, staring at the fireworks as they burst in bright reds and golds. His mind was racing, but for once, the chaos in his head didn’t feel so loud.

He liked this. He liked her.

“You’re blushing,” she teased softly, her voice carrying a hint of laughter.

“Am not,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away.

She tilted her head, looking up at him. Even in the faint glow of the fireworks, her smile was radiant. “You know, you’ve got really pretty eyes, Jaybird.”

Jason’s heart stuttered. Pretty. No one had ever called him that. He didn’t know what to say, so he just smiled, the corners of his lips quirking up despite himself.

Her voice broke through his thoughts, soft and full of affection. “You’re smiling, Jaybird.”

Jason hadn’t even realized he was. He let out a quiet chuckle. “Guess I am.”

He looked back at the sky, the fireworks reflecting in his wide green eyes. They were beautiful, he thought, but not as beautiful as the girl leaning on his shoulder.

It was beautiful. It was warm. It was lovely.

Just like her.

For the first time in forever, Jason felt like he could just exist, no walls, no armor. Just a boy sitting under the stars, sharing a moment with someone who made the world feel a little less cruel.

And for that, he was grateful.

Jason’s knuckles ached as he drove his fist into yet another thug’s face. He could hear Bruce’s gruff voice somewhere behind him, barking orders like usual, but he wasn’t paying much attention. The adrenaline was too loud in his ears.

She was right beside him, quick and agile, taking down opponents with ease. Jason always marveled at how graceful she was in a fight—like it was a dance she’d perfected long ago.

But then, suddenly, she wasn’t there.

It happened so fast Jason didn’t even notice at first. He swung at another thug, but when he turned to check on her, she was gone.

His heart skipped a beat.

“Batgirl?” he called out, scanning the chaos around him. His voice cracked slightly, but he didn’t care. “Where are you?”

Bruce was still fighting, his focus unbroken, but Jason couldn’t ignore the knot forming in his stomach. She wouldn’t just leave. She never left.

“Batgirl!” he shouted again, louder this time.

Nothing.

Panic surged through him as he darted between the scattered thugs, his eyes darting to every shadow, every corner. What if something had happened to her? What if she was hurt—or worse?

His chest tightened.

“Dammit, where are you?” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the fight.

And then, out of nowhere, she appeared.

Jason froze, his breath catching in his throat as he looked up. She was descending from above, hanging upside down from a rope like some kind of acrobat. Her mask couldn’t hide the playful grin on her face.

“Looking for me, Jaybird?” she teased, her voice light and carefree, as if she hadn’t just given him a heart attack.

Before he could respond, she leaned down and kissed him.

Jason’s eyes widened, his brain short-circuiting as her lips pressed against his. It was quick and unexpected, and his face went red hot in an instant.

When she pulled back, she was still grinning. Jason, on the other hand, was a mess.

“What the—why—what were you thinking?” he stammered, his voice an awkward mix of anger and embarrassment. His cheeks burned, and he could feel the heat rising to the tips of his ears.

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his heart race even faster. “Oh, calm down, Jaybird. It was just a kiss.”

“Just a kiss?!” he spluttered, glaring at her through his blush. “You—you can’t just—”

He reached up to push her away gently, still too flustered to think straight. But as soon as his hand touched her shoulder, the rope snapped.

Jason’s heart dropped.

“Y/N!” he shouted, reaching for her, but she was already falling.

She hit the ground with a thud, and Jason was beside her in an instant, his hands hovering over her like he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry! Dammit, I didn’t mean to—are you hurt?” he rambled, his voice filled with worry.

She winced but gave him a crooked smile. “I’m fine, Jaybird. Just bruised my pride a little.”

Before he could argue, she leaned up and kissed him again. This time, Jason didn’t freeze.

He kissed her back.

It was clumsy and hesitant, but it was real. Her lips were warm and soft, and for a moment, the chaos of the world around them faded away.

When she pulled back, she was smirking again, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, did you like it?”

Jason groaned, his blush returning with full force. “Shut up,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at her.

But even as he helped her up, his lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. Bruce could handle everything else for now. Jason was exactly where he wanted to be.

The city stretched out before them, Gotham's endless sprawl of flickering lights and distant sirens. Jason liked it up here on the rooftops, where everything below felt a little less suffocating. The air was cooler, and the stars—hidden as they were by the smog—still seemed to fight to peek through.

She sat beside him, knees hugged to her chest, her mask discarded so she could feel the breeze. Jason was talking, half-joking about how one of the Joker’s goons had slipped on a banana peel during their last fight. His voice carried a rare lightness, a softness that only came out when they were alone like this.

“You should’ve seen his face,” Jason said with a grin. “It was like he’d just realized his whole life was one big punchline. Priceless.”

He chuckled to himself, but then he noticed she wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t even looking at the city. Her gaze was fixed on him, a soft smile tugging at her lips, her eyes shining with something he couldn’t quite place.

“What?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing. “What’s with that look?”

Her smile faltered just a little, but the warmth in her eyes didn’t fade. She took a deep breath, like she was bracing herself for something. “I love you.”

Jason froze.

Her words hung in the air, delicate and powerful all at once. His mouth opened slightly, like he was about to say something, but nothing came out. His brain stalled, caught between disbelief and a rush of emotions he couldn’t quite name.

“I—” she stammered, her cheeks flushing as she looked away. “I didn’t mean to just—forget I said anything. That was stupid, I—”

Jason reached out and grabbed her hand, his grip firm but careful, stopping her mid-sentence. She looked back at him, her eyes wide and uncertain, and he turned toward her fully.

“We’re going to get married,” he said, his voice steady, his eyes locked on hers.

Her mouth opened slightly, confusion flashing across her face. “W-What?”

“I said, we’re going to get married,” Jason repeated, dead serious. His jaw was set, his tone leaving no room for argument.

For a moment, she just stared at him, her lips parted in surprise. “Jason, that’s not—you can’t just say stuff like that—”

“You love me,” he interrupted, his voice softening, though his grip on her hand didn’t waver. “And I…” He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “I love you too. So yeah. We’re getting married.”

She blinked at him, her face caught between disbelief and something he couldn’t quite name. And then, to his surprise, she laughed.

It started as a quiet chuckle but quickly grew into something brighter, freer, filling the cool night air. Jason couldn’t help it—he laughed too, the tension breaking as the sound bubbled up from his chest.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, her voice still tinged with laughter.

“You’re the one who said it first,” Jason shot back, his lips quirking into a smirk.

She shook her head, her smile wide and unguarded as she wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “You scared the hell out of me for a second.”

“Good,” Jason said, though there was no edge to his words. His grip on her hand softened, and his thumb brushed against her knuckles almost absentmindedly.

As the laughter faded, the night grew quiet again. Jason glanced at her, taking in the way the moonlight softened her features, the way her hair caught the faint glow of the city lights.

In his heart, he made a silent promise.

He’d protect her, no matter what. Not because she needed it—she could hold her own better than anyone he knew—but because she deserved it. She deserved someone who’d fight for her, who’d stand by her no matter what Gotham threw their way.

Because he loved her.

And for once, Jason let himself feel that fully, without the usual fear or doubt creeping in.

“Hey,” she said, breaking the silence. “You’re staring at me now.”

Jason smirked, leaning back on his hands as he looked back out at the city. “Yeah? What about it?”

She smiled again, and this time, Jason felt it deep in his chest—a warmth that he knew he’d carry with him for the rest of his life.

She nudged him playfully, rolling her eyes. “Okay, Mr. Future Husband. Tell me this—would you ever kill for me?”

Jason’s expression softened. He didn’t even have to think about it. “Of course.”

She looked at him, her teasing grin slipping into something more thoughtful. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, his voice quieter now. “I’d do anything for you.”

Part 1. Part 3.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[worrywrite]

In this AU can we replace Gandalf with Radagast? But make him, you know, more competent. Just imagine Gandalf being patron wizard to a different people, like the dwarves. Meanwhile Radagast found Raccoon land, fell in love with their "culture", and sent them on small quests and stuff over the years until raccoon!Bilbo finds the one ring because he sees Golum with a fish and claws his face up good in a struggle over the fish. And as soon as Radagast realizes this special raccoon friend has the ring he immediately goes "this is why I am here, this is my mission. I will assist these hobbits and be their guide as they destroy the great evil of Sauron."

Everything else plays out more or less the same. The confrontation with Saruman, the forming of the fellowship, the journey through Moria, and so on. Except you replace Gandalf and the hobbits with Radagast and raccoon hobbits.

And sure, the hobbits are sentient. They're expressive. They don't speak, per se, but their general message is more or less understood.

This means, of course, we get: Radagast confronts the Balrog (but he's a little less eloquent and his incantation is more like "the trees hate you, fuck off!"), Boromir dies trying to save some raccoons, Radagast the white (ish, more like off-white), Treebeard with two raccoons in his brain, Radagast expels Grima Wormtongue ("worms don't have tongues; Theodin, here's a sword, fix that"), a raccoon looks into a palantir and Sauron just sort of doesn't know what to do because this has never happened before and he doesn't know how to process raccoon thoughts, a raccoon fights their way through the gondorian citadel guard to throw a wounded man off a funeral pyre, a raccoon kills a giant spider demi-god and then gradually eliminates nearly every single orc in one of the most heavily guarded fortresses in Mordor, Golum bites off a raccoon's finger, some raccoons get to take the ships west along with the elves, and different raccoons become stewards and archivists (I think? I don't remember what Merry and Pippin actually end up as) in human cities.

also consider: LOTR but hobbits have Tapeta Lucidum

Boromir gets the fright of his life their first night on the road

[rabbitcrimes]

When people are like Wei Wuxian was NOT suicidal it’s like. Ok sure. He just believed that his debt to the Jiangs should be paid with everything up to and including his life. And also that the moral and obvious thing to do in any situation is to put himself between anyone and harm's way. This is because he thinks he’s unkillable but he makes himself unkillable for the same reason he’ll die for a good enough reason: because it’s a way to have worth!

And then famously once everything goes to shit he does beg Lan Wangji to let him die as part of the moment where he is either destroyed by his own evil magic or lets his own evil magic tear him apart, a distinction I don't personally think matters very much at that point. Less explicitly textually, his mentally ill ass behavior after he gives up his core says to me that he wishes that he'd died honorably for Jiang Cheng when he had the chance and doesn't know what to do with himself since he hasn't.

Again I’m aware that he’s operating under a pretty specific set of culturally informed norms as a cultivator and member of a sect but like. TO ME. Everything about how Wei Wuxian conducts himself indicates that he has a box in his mind at all times that says 'in case of emergency break glass' and what’s inside the box is his own death. All the sound of mind actions of a man who has a normal and not suicidal relationship to death.

[fishtroll]

What are you talking about, Blitzø?! Cheating is a big deal!!!

I just HATE how they try to justify Stolas's cheating in this episode, that they've even made new characters to tell the audience head-on: "Uh, aCtUAlly, it's okay for this man and Stolas to cheat on their wives, with whom they have daughters, because they're gay and cuz a woman and Stella — b#tches! Duh 🙄".

And by the way, I'm wondering why this woman is dead after all? Did she kill herself out of grief that her husband cheated on her? Did he kill her?

And how convenient it is that right now our main characters (who, just a little bit, are notorious murderers who kill anyone for money) have a conscience. Look, they don't want to kill this nice guy and ruin his family 🥺.

Where was that conscience when all of them, except Moxie, were ready to ruin this family? And all the other people?

Double standards, that's all!

I'm wondering how Vivien would deal with the topic of cheating in the series if the cheaters were female characters?

Edit: some people have rightly pointed out that a man just probably may have cheated on his wife. We don't know for sure if he cheated on her or not. I'm a dumbass, somehow, missed it. Sorry for that.

[cevansbrat0007]

Bold Moves

Summary: You decide to slip Ari your panties during an innocent encounter at the public library...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Brief Discussions of Body Image, Bird Being Brave, Going Commando, Light Roleplaying, Frisking, Manhandling, Spanking, Ass Slapping, P in V Sex, Implied Overstimulation, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Decided to finish this when I came across it in my drafts. Takes place earlier in Ari and Bird's romantic relationship. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“I’m so glad you pitched me this idea, Marisol.” You beam as you finish writing in your notebook. “I know it’s still early yet, but I would love to collaborate with you for Halloween.”

“Yes!” The younger woman cheers, throwing her arms up in the air. “I knew I picked the right woman.”

“Just I knew they picked the right woman to run the town library.” You throw her a wink before tucking your pad and pen back into your purse. “Now, I hate to cut this meeting short…” Out of habit you press a hand against your belly, silently wishing you’d opted to throw on a pair of spanx this morning instead of a flimsy pair of panties. 

Frankly, you were tired of sucking it in. But every time you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror you looked pretty damn good. Perhaps your confidence was growing after all. 

“But I need to get home and change so I can run by the shop before it gets too late.” You finish, feeling grateful when the sweet librarian sees fit to lead you out of her office.

“Sooo…” The dark-haired woman drags out the word, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as you both come around the corner. “Word on the street is that you’ve been seeing a lot of Detective Levinson lately. Everything good, I hope?”

 “What do you mean?” You respond, willing your pulse to remain steady. “Everything’s fine. He just…likes for me to call him whenever something new pops up about Martin. That’s all.”

And whenever you lock up in the evening. And when you make it home. And then again to decide if he’s coming to your place for the night. Or, if you’re already on the back roads heading to his. 

It was all so fun and exciting. But at the same time, it was just sex. Amazing sex, mind you. But just sex all the same.    

Instead of responding immediately, Marisol simply chooses to link her arm through yours. “Mm. While I haven’t lived here long, I’ve already learned how much this town loves gossip.” She muses. “Which is why I try to fly under the radar at all times.”

“Uh huh.” You give her a gentle nudge. “Even when it comes to a certain Officer Milton?”

“Shh! We do no not speak that man’s name in this house!”

“Why not?”

“Because I feel like he always goes out of his way to just…be around. He’s like a puppy. I do not have time for puppies, chica. I’m too busy building a career amongst the books.”

“Well sugar, I suppose you might wanna tell him that.”

“Ay, but that would involve making conversation. Something I also do not have time for because–”

“Because he’s standing over there by the door, talking to our favorite resident detective.” You interrupt with a giggle, prompting the other woman to drop your arm in a flourish before racing off back in the direction of her office before squeaking out “you never saw me” - leaving you alone. 

You allow yourself to stand there for another moment, content with watching the two men talk. While both were easy on the eyes, you were only interested in one of them. Glancing down at your outfit, you once again reassure yourself that you’re looking pretty damned good. 

And then – just that fast – an idea strikes you.

Refusing to overthink what it was you were about to do, you discreetly make your way into the ladies room. After checking to make sure you were alone, you slip into a stall. Reaching underneath your skirt, you slide your lacy black panties down your thighs before stepping out of them. 

Biting your lip, you tuck the small scrap of fabric into your pocket. Once you’re finished, you go to leave. But not before stopping long enough to refresh your lip gloss and fluff your curls. And then you’re out the door.

Hopefully you’d be able to catch the handsome bounty hunter before he left.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to find him. He’s right where you saw him last – near the front of the library still talking to Milton. As you near the two, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll be able to pull this off without making an absolute fool of yourself. 

But first you’d have to find a way to get rid of Officer Milton without making your intentions obvious. And then it hits you. While it might be wrong, it was officially time to pawn him off on your favorite new friend.

Marisol.

“Good afternoon, Officer Milton.” You chirp as you sidle forward, politely interrupting their conversation. “Detective Levinson.” Of course you’re immediately met with smiles from both men. 

“Well get a load a’ you.” Milton gives a playful whistle once he gets a good look at your business attire. “Lookin’ sharp, darlin. Goin’ somewhere special?”

“Actually, I just came from a meeting down at the bank.” You tell them, smoothing your hands along your gray pencil skirt. 

“Ahh.” The officer nods. “Fingers crossed all went well.”

“It did. Thank you.” Delicately clearing your throat, you make a show of glancing around before directing your complete attention to the young officer in front of you. “While I hate to interrupt you two when you’re hard at work, I think Marisol might need you.”

“She does?” The man immediately perks up, vaguely reminding you of your neighbor’s golden retriever. 

“Yep.” You wince inwardly, hating yourself for lying. “Not sure what it’s about, but I think she’s somewhere in the back.” 

Just like that, a switch has been flipped and Officer Milton is off on the hunt for a sweet little librarian who most certainly did not need him. Fingers crossed she would catch the hint and just go with it. 

And now you’re alone with the one man with the power to leave you breathless. You were constantly left tied up in knots around this man. But today it was finally time you turned the tables on this guy. 

“How’s the manhunt going, Detective? Any new leads?”

“I’m afraid I can’t discuss this part of my investigation with you, Miss.” He says, flashing you a rather charming smile. “But if you hear from our guy Martin anytime soon, be sure to give me a call.”

“Of course.” You nod, feeling your cheeks heat. “Well, I’d best be goin’ now.”

“Be safe gettin’ home.” 

“Same to you. Detective.”

And then, without sparing him so much as a warning glance, you discreetly remove your panties from their hiding spot and slip them into the back pocket of his jeans. To his credit, Ari doesn’t move a muscle. Instead he continues to stare straight ahead, his gaze never wavering.  

Head held high, you manage to make it all the way to your car before collapsing in a fit of nervous laughter. While you wished you could’ve seen his face, you know deep down that you were better off running off the way you had.  

Maybe he’d call you tonight and maybe he wouldn’t. But all that mattered is that you’d mustered up enough confidence to make some bold moves this afternoon, which by all accounts made you a bad bitch.

Later That Same Evening…

It’s been hours since you pulled that stunt with Ari, but as luck would have it, you still had yet to hear from him. Not that you were worried or anything. In fact, if you had to choose an emotion, you were more disappointed than anything else.

While you’d long since abandoned your high heels by your front door, you were still wearing the outfit you’d worn to the bank. You’d simply been too excited to go by the shop so you’d decided to remain closed for the day.

Heaving a sigh as you rise from the couch, you’re in the middle of debating whether or not it’s worth trying to cobble together something for dinner when you hear the sound of your doorbell. Confused, you go to reach for your phone, only to frown when you see there’s nothing from the one man you wanted to hear from most.

The bell chimes again, prompting you to get a move on. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” You mumble, stretching your arms above your head. Opening the door, you’re treated to the sight of a large man standing on your porch with his hands in his pocket, his official badge prominently displayed on his hip. 

Hello, Detective Ari Levinson. 

“Evening, Miss. Apologies for bothering you so late.” 

“Why hello, Detective. Somethin’ I can help you with?” You do your best to keep your tone light while you wait for him to explain himself.

“Sure hope so. Got a report about someone engaging in some inappropriate behavior.” He informs you, barely concealing his smirk as he leans his big body against the porch railing.

“Is that right?”

“Fraid so.” He nods solemnly. “In fact, I actually found a trail of evidence that led me right here to your front door.”

“I…well, there has to be some mistake.” You protest, your hand flying to your chest. 

“Huh.” Ari sucks on his teeth as he reaches into his pocket to retrieve a small scrap of lacy black fabric. “Then you wouldn’t happen to know who these belong to, would you?”

Your eyes go wide at the sight of your panties dangling from one thick index finger. 

“I’m not sure what you’re implying, but they’re certainly not mine.” You sniff haughtily. “I’ve never seen those before in my life.”

“Now, Miss.” He gently chastises, taking another step towards you, invading your space. “Perhaps I should warn you that it’s a crime to lie to a member of law enforcement.” Instead of responding you simply fold your arms across your heaving bosom. 

The nerve of this man, thinking he had the right to question you like this right out in the open. Honestly, what would your neighbors think? The scandal!

“You know what? I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna need to search the premises.” The bounty hunter moves to enter your home, only to growl when your hand stops him short. “It’s also a felony to impede an official investigation.” Ari grunts, his brow furrowing in annoyance.

“And I'm thinkin’ I'm gonna need to see a warrant first, Detective.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch his eyes darken - his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. 

“I’m sure a good girl like you ain’t got nothin’ to hide.” Ari rasps, leaning in so that his mouth now hovers a mere inch above your ear. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” You respond, sounding a little more breathless than you’d like.

“Unless there’s something in there you don’t want me to find?”

“I don’t have anything to hide.” Blowing out a breath you decide to give the man what he wants, if only to see what comes next

“Not sure I believe you, sweetheart.”

“Fine.” You concede. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let you come in for a quick look. But you’ve gotta be fast.” You tell him, poking him in the shoulder before turning to lead him into your home. “Because I’m expecting company any minute and we don’t need an audience.”

“We’ll see.”

Your pulse kicks up when you hear Ari shut the door behind you, followed by the quiet snick of the lock. Guess that meant he thought he was staying awhile. Just as you open your mouth to protest, you’re caught off guard when he brushes by you, allowing you to catch a hint of his cologne. 

“I’m not sure what you’re on, Detective.” You say, shooting him your fiercest glare. Meanwhile, this man responds with his most lethal grin. “But I’m giving you five minutes to figure it out before I–” 

“You know, Miss, I didn’t wanna ask you this outside. Especially given the already delicate nature of this investigation. But do you happen to be wearing any panties?”

“Excuse me?!” His question has your mouth falling open, your cheeks burning hot with outrage.

“Answer the question.” His eyes track your every movement as you slowly back away in the direction of the stairs. “Because every good girl I know puts on a pair of panties before leaving the house for the day.”

“Goodnight, Detective Levinson.” You hiss before turning and taking the stairs two by two. “Please see yourself out before I’m forced to call your supervisor.”

Your words are met with silence. And it’s not until you reach the edge of your bedroom that you hear him moving – up the same stairs you’d just scaled only seconds before. You can hardly suppress a shiver as the heady thrum of anticipation courses through you. 

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart.” Ari growls softly as his impressive form fills your doorway, effectively blocking your only exit. “But I’m not through with my investigation.” It’s a struggle to ignore just how good he looks taking up space in your bedroom like this. 

“I want you to leave.”

“Oh, I will. As soon as I’m finished.” He takes a step towards you, rolling up his sleeves as he does. “But first, I’m gonna need you to turn and place your hands on the wall.”

“I–I will do no such thing!” Comes your almost breathless reply. “I’m not a criminal.”

“Hm.” Ari cocks his head, his magnetic blue eyes leering at your much smaller, curvier frame. “But you are a suspect.” In less than a fraction of a second, this man is now standing in front of you. “And it would be rather reckless of me if I didn’t pat you down.” One large hand curls itself around your bicep before gently leading to a nearby wall. “You should know that I’m a bit of a stickler when it comes to following protocol.” 

Blood roaring in your ears, you place both of your hands on the cool surface. Taking a deep breath, you can’t help but jump when he kicks your feet apart, forcing you to spread your legs even wider, granting him better access.

“I’m gonna report you.” Unfortunately for you, your flimsy threat does nothing to deter him.

Your eyes fall shut when you feel two large, warm hands glide their way up and down your arms. It feels as tempting as it does comforting. He repeats the action twice more, almost as if he’s trying to lull you into a false sense of security. 

Next, those wandering hands are stroking along your sides, greedily following the path of your curves. And then you feel him bury his nose in the crook of your neck. It’s impossible to miss his soft groan as he inhales your sweet scent.

“Now I’ve gotta ask you, little Bird.” He hums, his sharp teeth nipping at your ear. “Do you have anything on you that could stab, stick, or poke me?” 

“N-no.” 

God, you were so fucking wet right now it’s embarrassing. And you can’t stop the moan that catches in your throat when his sensual ministrations move to your breasts – cupping, massaging, and kneading. He lewdly palms them through your blouse, this thumps paying extra attention to your hardened nipples. Your back arches of its own accord as he continues to play with your body.

And there’s a part of you that hates yourself for the way he makes you respond.  

“Hm. So far so good, baby. Proud of you for keeping your hands where I can see ‘em.” Now his hands are skimming down your hips to toy with the hem of your skirt. His warm breath dances along your sensitive skin, making you shiver. “But now it’s time for the big question.” Ari begins inching your skirt higher and higher. “And don’t you dare lie to me. Are you–”

“This ain’t right, Detective!” You protest, protectively clenching your thighs together. However, your words only make him chuckle. “Pretty sure this is an illegal search and seizure.”

“As a member of law enforcement, I would have to respectfully disagree with you.” He says at the same time as he grinds himself against you, his massive erection pressing into your lower back. “It’s my job to keep the community safe. And to deal with naughty girls who go around handing out their unmentionables to strangers.” Your skirt inches even higher now, stopping just short of revealing your dripping cunt. 

“And what do you know?” He purrs, holding you still as his hand dips between your thighs, cupping your most intimate flesh. “Looks like we’ve got a little liar on our hands. Don’t we?”

“Don’t. We.” The renewed authority in his tone makes your pussy quiver.

“Yes, Sir.”

“And how should we handle liars, sweetheart? Hm?” Your knees go weak when you feel two thick fingers spear their way through your messy folds, lightly strumming over your clit. “What should we do with you?”

“....I…don’t know….”

His deep chuckle has you squirming in his hold, your hips bucking as he continues to grind the heel of his palm against your sensitive nub.  

“Tell you what. You and I are about to have a serious conversation about what happens to pretty young ladies who can’t seem to tell the truth. Even when it’s in their best interest. What do ya say?”

“Y–yes, Sir.” You moan as your eyes threaten to roll back in your head, sparks of pleasure dancing behind your eyes. “Whatever you want – I’ll be so, sooo good!”

Thirty Minutes Later…

“Why the fuck you keep runnin’, baby?” Ari growls, smacking your bottom hard. “Yeah, get that juicy ass back here. Love watchin’ those cheeks bounce.”

The rhythmic sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, spilling out into the hall as Ari drives into you over and over again with his impressive cock. 

He’d been hard for hours before he ever showed up on your doorstep. Frankly, he’d lost count of how many times he’d paused throughout the day to bring your panties to his nose. It was like he couldn’t seem to get enough of how good you smelled. But he also knew that wouldn’t be enough.

He needed to taste you. Needed your unique, earthy flavor on his tongue. 

Thankfully, he had no doubt that he’d have time to eat the fuck out of your sweet pussy later. After he was finished fucking you into oblivion for being such bad girl. Who would’ve guessed his little Bird had it in her to be so deliciously naughty?

Meanwhile, you’re too busy sobbing into a pillow to be proud of yourself right now, your hands fisting the sheets while your man exacts his revenge on your body. At this rate, you’d already cum twice. And here you were already roaring along to orgasm number three. 

Fuck, this man was a goddamned menace!

Your desperate cries grow louder as Ari picks up his pace, forcing you to clench around him as you finally resort to begging.

“Please, Ari!” You wail when he lifts your hips higher before adjusting the angle of his strokes. “I–ooh God–M’so close!”

“Oh yeah?” He snarls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Then let me see you work for it.” A sharp hiss escapes when his heavy palm comes down on your ass again, this time smacking both cheeks without so much as missing a beat. “This is how bad girls get punished.” You tense when he delivers yet another blow. “They’ve gotta work for their pleasure.”

“I’m sorry–wooh God!” Your voice comes out raw, bordering on hoarse.       

“That’s it, baby. Yeah, there we go.” He gifts you with another slap, earning a sharp yelp from you. “Yeah, throw it back like you love it.”

After an afternoon of being bad, there’s nothing you want more than to be good for this man. You wanted to please him. Make him happy. If only so he never stopped touching you. And you were trying – honest to God, you were.

But it was all too good. Too much. 

“Just know, everytime you run, I’m gonna drag that sweet ass right back.” Ari renews his punishing grip on your hips, holding you up even as your sweat slicked body starts to give out. “Now cum for me one more time so I can finally stop takin’ it easy on you, pretty Bird.”

END

Official Tag List

@katymae12344

@identity2212

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@blackhawkfanatic

@jamneuromain

@queerqueenlynn

@pono-pura-vida

@daykrisr999

@ninacutebee16

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@emerald-writes

@gh0stgurl

@blogbog710

@sincerelytlh

@gummydummy19

@steviebbboi

@missaprilt23

@scorpiosaintt

@etherealdisneyvillainness

[mcrdvcks]

what are hands for?

chapter summary: After an offhand comment from your father shakes your confidence, you find yourself spiraling into self-doubt.

word count: 2.4k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: i'm not even gonna lie, this is extremely self-indulgent. i've barely been home for a week and my dad's already called me fat once and it definitely won't be the last time

anyways, i basically wrote this for myself but i thought i'd share it because i know for some people, being home for the holidays is rough! and the only thing i need is for logan to tell me he loves me and everything would be perfect

warnings/tags: insecure!reader, reader has a brother, skipping meals, implied that reader has received rude comments from family before, reader describes herself as 5'7" and over 200 lbs one time (like i said, self-indulgent), curvy!reader, angst, fluff

You have always had mixed feelings about going to your parents’ house for the holidays, or even during your breaks during college. You loved home, it was where you grew up so naturally you were supposed to love it.

But you also hated it. Hated the comments, the looks, the yelling—all of it.

And somehow here you were, standing in your parent’s quaint house, your younger brother and his girlfriend already in the dining room helping your mom with dinner while your dad greeted you and Logan.

"Hey, kiddo," your dad said, pulling you into a quick, half-hearted hug before turning to Logan with a small smile. "Logan. Good to see you again."

Logan gave a polite nod. "Good to see you too, sir."

Your dad’s gaze flicked between the two of you for a moment before gesturing toward the dining room. "Everyone’s in there. Why don’t you join them? Dinner’s almost ready."

Logan looked at you briefly, a silent check-in, before heading off. "I’ll go see if they need help," he murmured, squeezing your hand lightly as he passed.

The air shifted the second Logan stepped out of earshot. Your dad turned back to you, giving you a once-over that was a little too long for comfort.

"You’ve put on a little weight, haven’t you?" he asked, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just landed a verbal punch to your gut. "Must be all that mansion food."

Your chest tightened, heat creeping up your neck. You opened your mouth to respond—what, you weren’t sure—but he didn’t wait for an answer. He just patted your shoulder like it was nothing, muttered something about checking on the turkey, and walked off, leaving you standing there alone.

In the back of your mind, you knew you should’ve put on a different shirt, this one was just a tad bit too tight. But it was one of Logan’s favorite’s, so you didn’t pay too much attention to it.

You pulled on your blouse a few times, trying to get it to not stick to your stomach before walking into the dining room like you always did when you were younger, with a fake smile.

---

You huffed, yanking the seventh shirt over your head and tossing it onto the growing pile on the bed. Nothing looked right—nothing felt right. Every shirt clung too much, hung awkwardly, or just didn’t sit right. And with each outfit failure, the voice in your head grew louder, echoing your dad’s casual remark.

You tugged at the hem of your tank top, staring at your reflection in the mirror with narrowed eyes. “Stupid,” you muttered, turning to the side to inspect your profile. “It’s just a shirt. It’s fine.” But it didn’t feel fine.

After another long minute, you grabbed a loose hoodie from the closet and pulled it on, letting it drown you. It wasn’t what you’d planned to wear, but at least it hid everything you didn’t want to see.

You made your way downstairs to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before your class. On the counter were a box of donuts, and without thinking you grabbed the two you normally did in a napkin and made your way out.

But not before pausing at the doorway, a bite already taken out of one donut as you looked down at the food in your hand. You took another bite and threw both away, making your way to your classroom before the kids got there.

You got to the classroom a good twenty minutes early, dropping your bag onto the desk with a sigh. The hoodie you’d thrown on still felt too heavy, too obvious, but you didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. The two bites of the donut you’d managed to eat sat like a stone in your stomach.

You busied yourself setting up for the day, pulling worksheets out of your bag and lining them up on the desk. It wasn’t much, but focusing on something, anything, kept your mind from wandering too far down the spiral. The kids would be filing in soon, their chatter filling the space, and that would make it easier. It always did.

But for now, the silence was suffocating.

There was a soft knock on the doorframe, and you looked up, expecting one of the students. Instead, it was Ororo. She leaned casually against the frame, a warm, curious smile on her face.

“Morning, Y/N,” she greeted, stepping into the room. “You’re here early. Everything okay?”

You forced a smile, nodding as you shuffled a few papers around unnecessarily. “Yeah, just… wanted to get a head start. You know how Mondays are.”

Ororo tilted her head, clearly unconvinced but kind enough not to push. “If you say so,” she said, her tone light but probing. Her gaze swept over you, lingering for just a second on the oversized hoodie before she caught herself. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do. Thanks, ‘Ro.” You gave her another tight-lipped smile, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt.

She hesitated for a beat before nodding and stepping back into the hallway. As soon as she was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

The classroom slowly came to life as the students trickled in, their energy filling the room and pushing your thoughts to the background. By the time the lesson was underway, you were almost able to pretend nothing was wrong. Almost.

It wasn’t until later that day, during lunch, that it all came rushing back. The teachers’ lounge was unusually crowded, laughter and conversations bouncing off the walls. You slipped in quietly, grabbing a bottle of water and a granola bar from the counter before finding a corner to sit in.

From across the room, Logan caught your eye. He was leaning back in one of the chairs, arms crossed, but the second he saw you, his expression softened. He gave you a small nod—his way of checking in. You nodded back, offering a faint smile.

You didn’t miss the way his brow furrowed slightly, though, or the way his gaze lingered for just a moment too long before he turned back to his conversation with Scott. It wasn’t like Logan to hover or push, but you knew he noticed things. And he never let them go.

---

After classes you went into the kitchen to put your mug in the sink from hours ago. Out of habit, you grabbed a few cookies Ororo had made yesterday before stopping yourself.

You stared at the cookies in your hand, your frown deepening as your dad’s words replayed in your mind like a broken record. Your stomach churned, and for a moment, you felt like throwing the cookies straight into the trash.

“What’d those cookies ever do to you, darlin’?” Logan’s voice startled you from your thoughts. You turned to see him leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze wasn’t accusing, just… observant.

You hesitated, gripping the cookies tighter. “Nothing,” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just… wasn’t really hungry.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, pushing off the doorframe to step into the kitchen. “Didn’t seem like you were thinkin’ about that a second ago,” he said, his tone teasing but gentle. “Something on your mind?”

You shook your head quickly, putting the cookies back on the plate. “Nope. Just tired. Long day.”

He didn’t look convinced. Logan had a way of reading you like an open book, and you hated it sometimes. Hated how hard it was to hide from him, even when you wanted to.

“Darlin’…” His voice was softer now, his hand reaching out to brush yours. “What’s goin’ on?”

You sighed, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. “It’s nothing, Logan. Seriously.”

He stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “Y/N, you know I don’t buy that. You’ve been off since we got back from your folks’ place.” His voice was low, steady. “Talk to me.”

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. The last thing you wanted was to unload all this on him. But the look in his eyes—genuine, steady, patient—made it impossible to deflect.

“It’s just… something my dad said,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening. “What’d he say?”

“It’s not a big deal—”

“Y/N.” His tone was firm, but not unkind. “What’d he say?”

You exhaled sharply, avoiding his gaze. “He… made a comment about my weight,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up. “Said I’ve been eating too much mansion food.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his brows knitting together. “He said that?” His voice was low, dangerous. You nodded, still not looking at him. “That’s bullshit,” he muttered, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“It’s not—he didn’t mean it like that,” you tried to defend weakly, though you weren’t sure why. “It’s just how he is. And, it’s not like he’s wrong either, I could lose some weight. I’m 5’7” and over 200 pounds, and sometimes my old pants don’t even go over my thighs or hips. And—”

Logan held up a hand, cutting you off gently but firmly. “Alright, stop. Just stop.” His voice was low, steady, but there was a protective edge to it. “First off, I don’t give a damn what your old pants fit like. And second, your dad? He’s got no right to talk to you like that. None.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Logan stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Nope. Not hearin’ it, Y/N. You’re sittin’ here pickin’ yourself apart ‘cause of some stupid thing he said, and that’s not fair. Not to you.”

“But he’s not wrong,” you muttered, looking away. “I mean, look at me. I’m—”

“Perfect,” Logan interrupted, his voice firm. “You’re perfect. And I don’t wanna hear you say otherwise.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re just saying that.”

“Do I look like the kind of guy who just says things?” Logan shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Princess, I’m the last person to sugarcoat anything.”

You hesitated, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. Logan sighed, stepping closer and resting his hands lightly on your hips. “Y/N, you’re strong. You’re smart. And yeah, you’ve got curves—and I happen to like ‘em. A lot.”

Your face heated at his words, but Logan wasn’t done. He gave your hips a gentle squeeze, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You think I’d be standin’ here, chasin’ after you, if I didn’t think you were incredible? Come on now.”

“I’m not fishing for compliments, Logan,” you said quietly, still not quite meeting his eyes.

“I know you’re not,” he replied. “But I’m givin’ ‘em anyway, ‘cause you need to hear it. And because it’s the damn truth.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, despite yourself. Logan grinned, clearly pleased to have gotten a reaction out of you. “There’s that smile,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Missed that.”

The knot in your chest loosened just a bit, and you let out a shaky sigh. “Thanks, Logan,” you murmured. “I just… I don’t feel like myself sometimes, you know?”

“I get it,” Logan said, his voice softer now. “We all got our crap to deal with. But you don’t gotta deal with it alone. Not when I’m here.”

You gave him a small nod, the corners of your mouth twitching upward. Logan’s smirk returned, and his hands slid from your hips to the curve of your thighs, his fingers grazing lightly. “Besides,” he said, his tone turning teasing, “you know what these thighs are for, right?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He grinned, his hands squeezing gently before lifting you up. “For my hands. Nothin’ else they need to do, far as I’m concerned.”

You yelped in surprise, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Logan! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Not until you stop talkin’ nonsense about yourself.”

You glared at him, though the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed your indignation. “I’m serious, Logan. I’m not exactly lightweight—”

“Good thing I’m not exactly weak,” he interrupted smoothly, his grin widening. “You think a couple extra pounds are gonna make me break a sweat? Sweetheart, I’ve fought Sentinels and lived to tell the tale. Trust me, I got this.”

You groaned, your hands tightening on his shoulders as he adjusted his grip, holding you securely. “This is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you thinkin’ you’re anything less than perfect,” Logan countered, his tone softening just a bit. “Now, you gonna stop beatin’ yourself up, or am I gonna have to carry you around all day until you do?”

“Logan, we’re in the kitchen,” you hissed, glancing toward the doorway. “What if someone walks in?”

“Let ‘em,” he said with a shrug. “Not like they don’t already know you’re my girl.” He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “Besides, anyone’s got a problem with me lovin’ on you? They can take it up with me.”

You huffed, but your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he teased, setting you down gently but keeping his hands on your hips. “Now, what do you say we grab those cookies and actually enjoy ‘em? ‘Ro made ‘em for us, after all.”

Your gaze flicked to the plate of cookies, and for a moment, doubt crept back in. But Logan’s steady hands on your hips and the unwavering warmth in his eyes grounded you. “Okay,” you said softly. “Let’s eat the cookies.”

“That’s my girl,” Logan said, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reaching for the plate. He handed you one, grabbing one for himself, and took a big bite, chewing with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Damn, these are good. Think she’d notice if we finished the whole plate?”

You laughed, the sound lighter than it had felt all day. “Pretty sure she’d kill us.”

“Worth it,” he said with a smirk, taking another bite.

You rolled your eyes but bit into your cookie, letting the sweetness melt on your tongue. For the first time in what felt like days, the weight on your chest eased just a little.

And when Logan leaned in to steal a crumb from the corner of your mouth, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to protest.

[revelboo]

[/slams a request form on your desk like an over zealous court room anime dude]

Mx.Revel, consider this a request of the utmost importance! This request is for none other than your personal favorite cybertronian, whom ever they may be.

Thank you for your time, your honor, I concede.

That’s Wheeljack, buuuut how about an angst ficlet? Was thinking about how utterly ill equipped Shockwave is to deal with emotions other than anger and a scenario where Soundwave is grieving a cassette. Shock wanting to do something for his friend, basically the only Cybertronian that doesn’t find him deeply unsettling, and he doesn’t understand he can’t just replace the cassette with something near the same size. Honestly, I just wanted to do an alternate take with these two. Title is ‘Clumsy Heart’ by The Matches

Clumsy Heart

IDW Shockwave x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Servos of his one hand flexing as the uncomfortable noise in his processor grows, those invasive thoughts and shadows of memory that aren’t his floating to the surface, half seen and hazy. Watching Soundwave cradle the still form of a cassette to himself, the way his servos ghost over that small shape making the chaos worse. Becoming uncomfortable, unable to really understand this grief, but realizing that he should know this. That he hates this. He can repair the frame, but the spark is gone. Senses his friend won’t appreciate it if he resurrects a pale shadow, even if he’s not sure why he knows that.

• Spark aching at the loss, Soundwave is aware of his other cassettes echoing his pain. Of Shockwave lingering nearby, head tipped to study him like his grief is something foreign and fascinating. “Leave me,” he says, servos gently touching that little face. Had they looked for him at the end? Knowing he’d be there in time to save them like he always is. All of them trusting without question that he’ll protect them. And he’d failed. Feels like coming apart, losing something so dear to him, a part of him. Finally, Shockwave drifts away, leaving him to grieve with his surviving cassettes.

• Leaving the base, trying to get rid of that tangling, unpleasant feeling of dissonance, Shockwave tips his head up to the night sky. Trying to understand. Wanting to. Can’t bring back the cassette, but he can find a replacement. Something similar. If it’s the loss of a small symbiote he cares for that is paining Soundwave, maybe another small thing he can care for will ease that grief? Doesn’t know, can’t really understand why he grieves at the loss. Everything dies. It’s inevitable. And it’s illogical to mourn the inevitable. Striding into the night, he ponders replacements. Something that can speak with him like a cassette. Something small and alive. One of the little, organic natives would do.

• Breath fogging in the morning air, you check the rifle. Exhausted after being up all night finding every single photo he’s in and cutting out his face. Taping those hateful little visages all over his Xbox, all his games, those stupid baseball cards and then lining them up for execution on the lawn. A petty bit of satisfaction as you line up the first shot and fire. For the bra hanging on the back of a kitchen chair. A game disc explodes in jagged shards. For those slutty lace panties on your kitchen counter. The cards aren’t as satisfying, just scattering. For that bitch in your bed and the look on his face when you’d come home early because work was slow. Slowly, picking targets and destroying them since you can’t go after him, he’s not worth it. The crap he’d left when you’d grabbed the rifle and chased him and her naked out of your house last night? Fair game.

• Is this a valid course of action? It seems logical. If something has been lost and is causing a problem, replacing it should resolve the issue. Aware that it might be a bit more nuanced than that, because of emotions he can’t grasp, he moves through the woods outside the base. It’s a sound theory and it can’t make things worse to try. Probably. That, too, eludes him. An answer that relies on emotion.

• Reloading the rifle, you hear a branch crack and come crashing down in the woods behind you. Making you flinch and nearly drop the gun. It’d been windy the day before, a branch must have broken. Turning toward the sound, your mouth falls open as a giant steps out of the woods, a single red optic finding you, antenna flicking up. “Acceptable,” it growls as the fine hair at your nape prickles. Opening fire on it as it strides your way, completely unfazed. Dropping the rifle to run, you scream as it bends and snags you in a giant hand.

• Still weighed down by grief even after laying the cassette to rest, Soundwave’s head lifts at the sound of screaming. Of terror and pain that goes right through so soon after his own loss. Freezing as he spots Shockwave entering his quarters and his attention drops to the small form wriggling like mad in his grip. Speechless as the scientist drops the human on the desk and the tiny creature lunges to their feet and runs, only to stop short as they hit the edge and realize how high up it is. Can feel the chaos and fear in their mind, that panic so bright and hurtful. “A replacement,” Shockwave says, gesturing at the terrified thing with his cannon. Like it’s as simple as that. Like a human can replace his cassette. That people are interchangeable. Turning away from the edge, terrified eyes look up at him and that fear nearly cripples him. You can’t replace what he’s lost, but you do need him. Hates Shockwave right then and those frightened eyes.

Next

[bonbonly]

Thinking about Jealous Lewis x secretary reader!

I can just imagine reader getting to close to another male colleague. Maybe them lightly chatting in the break room or something and Lewis just not having it.

Maybe him making her sit under his desk cock warming him with her mouth.

OR maybe not letting her cum for like a week, but using his fuck machine chair (from the one anon you posted) to REALLY edge reader while she tries to work. And just all around keeping her desperate

Idk im just a slut for Lewis🤭

-❄️

❄️ anon you have outdone yourself i am going to be thinking about this for HOURS now

bon's thoughts (18+)

you're on break, eating your sandwich peacefully because your cunt is free from that machine. and in comes an intern who sits down next to you. he's talking about how he's almost done with his undergrad degree, and how he's hoping to get a job here soon permanently. you're smiling at him because he reminds you a lot of yourself when you were his age. young, curious, and... a lot innocent. you're laughing at his jokes, and you don't even know what the time is when a firm knock is heard. you snap your head to the doorway and see your boss, standing there with a glare on his face, arms crossed.

"lunch ended 15 minutes ago, you're late," he says, and then vanishes into the corner. you gulp, waving goodbye to the intern and heading back to your desk.

only to find a stack load of papers that's definitely going to have you working over time and the machine's already on, thrusting up and down, patiently waiting for you to come sit on its glorious cock. you glance out into the hallway to see lewis staring at you with a smirk on his face through the glass walls of his office. sending him a quick frown, you sigh out loud and head to your desk.

you spit on your fingers, rubbing your clit to prepare yourself before seating firmly onto the cock. it's almost routine at this point, and you're choking back moans because lewis has placed it on the highest setting. you grab the papers, and begin to look through the numbers, inputting them into the database on your monitor. work efficiency tests are important, lewis emailed you one day. he wants to make sure his employees can work through anything, whether it be distractions or simply put, cock.

and he's so cheeky about it too, because while you're trying to do your job properly, he's toying with the settings on his phone and he has cameras in every room anyway to make sure his employees are on task (your room is in his favorites tho) and he's watching you squirm and bounce. he edges you for the next 2 hours, and as the employees slowly trickle away one by one, he's turning the settings onto high and immediately turning it to low, making your whines louder as you're struggling to be quiet. you're screaming in frustration, knocking your keyboard onto the ground as you're planting your face onto the wooden desk, screaming about how you hate this and just want someone to fuck you for good. your office phone starts ringing and you grab it, holding it to your ear.

"feeling tired yet?" lewis's voice asks through the phone and your stubborn ass is quick to respond with,

"an employee is never tired when she's working."

to which in turn he giggles and your machine's on once again to the highest setting, which has you moaning out loud, crying tears of frustration. you're bouncing on the machine and you hear lewis on the other side, "no, no, no, stop it right now or i won't let you cum for an entire month."

"please, please, lewis-"

"mr. hamilton."

"mr. hamilton," you say, gritting your teeth because the last thing you could care about is giving him the title he wants, "please let me cum, i really want to cum."

"and why should i? you were more than happy to talk to that intern today," he scoffs, "i think you're good just like this sweetheart. i love hearing you beg for me like this."

"no, no, please... please i can't anymore," and then you scream out loud when he stops the machine altogether, "fuck! no, please, please im begging! im begging you, mr. hamilton, please let me cum, no, no, no, you need to let me cum!"

you hear a satisfied chuckle on the other side of the phone, "come to my office right now." and you're scrambling to his office, your pussy begging for the attention you believe you finally deserve.

but here you are, crying your eyes out as he has you sitting there, extremely still with his cock in your mouth under his desk. he's writing something on a piece of paper, twirling a fancy pen in his hands before he looks down at you and smiles, "how's my favorite secretary feeling?" and you're mumbling out a "horrible what about you" which makes me laugh out loud. he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing away your tears, "now you'll think twice about talking to that stupid intern," he smirks, "and no cumming for an entire month." which has you whining and screaming out loud, "ah, ah, ah, don't make me extend it to two months."

that shuts you up real fast. but, hey, at least he promised to give you a raise!

[starlightxsvt]

Guilty | sibilance. 3

synopsis ➳ ❝ after months you see Wonwoo at the annual party. lines are crossed, accusations are made and just after, your colleague voices out a crazy proposition.❞

pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x rich badboy!wonwoo (ft. Jeonghan)

genre ➳ angst, smut, drama

word count ➳ 4.5k + 900(patreon bonus)

warnings ➳ cursing, toxic ex vibes, slight love triangle, rough sex, unprotected intercourse, dom!wonwoo, big dic!wonwoo, messy makeouts, dirty talk, degradation, cream pie, no aftercare, so much drama.

previous chapter

The weather is misty today. Winter has passed quickly over the past three months, and now spring is starting to ease the chill from the air. Yet, you still feel just as tired, if not more so than before.

A break is an imminent necessity, but you will not be getting any until you wrap up your current case. It is a huge one, viral on social media due to its scandalized nature, but most importantly, your client and his opponent are extremely exhausting. It is like managing toddlers, and you are ever so grateful that Jeonghan is also handling this case with you.

It is a particularly sensitive case because your client is the owner of the biggest textile company in the country and also, Chairman Jeon’s good friend, Mr Kim. Last month, he married his daughter off to another huge chaebol family in the country and the issue began with the catering service for the wedding, owned by Mr Kim’s ex business partner and current rival. The guests all got food poisoning right in the middle of the ceremony and the bride had an allergic reaction, throwing Mr Kim into a fit as he claimed it to be an attempted murder to get revenge on him.

Things have been chaotic since then, keeping you on your toes.

Despite being snowed under your work, a particular rumour floating around the Jeon Corporation caught your attention and has been a constant form of distraction ever since you heard it.

Word on the street says that Chairman Jeon is set to announce a new CEO at the annual party of the company taking place this weekend and apparently, one candidate is his own son and the other is a completely new hire. Six months ago you would have laughed at the rumour of the Chairman’s son, Wonwoo— who you know personally, taking over the company but now, you can say nothing for sure.

It has been nearly three months since you last saw him, partly due to your hectic schedule and also due to the lack of work at Jeon Corporation. Since you have not visited the headquarters recently, you have not been tortured by the sight of that infuriating man but you have to admit that thoughts of Wonwoo have been plaguing your mind. They pop up randomly in your head and you hate your mind for betraying you like that.

You are supposed to move on. And it was not even an actual relationship so why are you still thinking about that stupid, spoiled brat?

“Your drink.” Jeonghan places your coffee on your desk, snapping you out of your reverie. You turn from the window in front of which you were standing and walk back to your desk, taking a sip of your latte with a grateful smile. “I still cannot believe you got my order exactly right on the first try. Thank you.”

It is truly insane. A month ago one day, as your work started piling up, you stopped taking your usual coffee breaks and instead asked Jeonghan to grab you something, forgetting to mention how you like your coffee. Unbelievably, when you tried what he brought for you, you were astounded to the point of silence.

Turns out you and his sister have very similar tastes so he got lucky with that.

“You are most welcome.” Jeonghan smiles, throwing a cheeky wink at you. “Just knock on my door if you need anything.”

“Will do.” You pause for a moment. Just as he is about to close the door behind him, you call, “Jeonghan, you’re attending the party this weekend, right?”

The man steps back into your office. “Yes. Actually, I am glad that you brought it up.”

You wait, looking at him expectantly.

“Would you be my date for the evening?” 

You smile. “Gladly.” Everyone you know already has a plus one so you were dreading showing up alone. As always, Jeonghan has come to the rescue.

“I am honoured.” Jeonghan smiles, his eyes crinkling beautifully. “I was worried Mr. Pi would ask me to be his plus one. I mean it was either going to be you or me.”

You snort a burst of laughter. “I know, right? But he will not get off our backs when he figures out we’re coming together. You know he has that weird obsession of pairing us together like a couple.”

Suddenly, Jeonghan’s face grows serious.“That isn’t a bad idea, you know.”

A soft sigh falls from your lips.

“You should move on from him. It has been long enough, don’t you think?”

“I am over him,” you reply, almost defensively. “Listen, if there is one thing I have learned, it is, not to date where you work.”

Jeonghan chuckles softly. “Office romance is quite fun you know.”

You arch a teasing brow. “Someone seems experienced.’’ The man smiles secretively before stepping closer to the door, pulling it open with one hand. “Just giving you a heads up, you haven’t seen me in a suit yet.”

“I see you in a suit every day, Jeonghan.” You sass.

The man rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. A proper three piece suit. A tuxedo. Prepare to have your mind blown.” He shakes his palms for dramatic effect.

You sip your coffee. “Mhm, stop pestering me now. I have so much work to do.”

The man flashes a smile before pulling the door closed.

You still have a grin lingering on your lips as you open your files and start skimming through them.

—

On Saturday night, Jeonghan is in front of your house sharply at 7.

You rush to the door as you receive his text, putting on your heels and scrambling to get your purse and phone. 

You are going to be late but hey, at least you will be fashionably late. 

Buying this emerald green dress impulsively six months ago was not a bad idea, you now realize, because you love how the dress fits you. With your hair and makeup done, it is almost a completely new you and you may have taken too long admiring yourself in the mirror.

Jeonghan’s jaw goes slack as he watches you step out of your apartment building. His expression makes you laugh and you cannot help but shake your head at his overexaggeration. 

“Wow,” his eyes move up and down as he steps closer to you. “Fucking hell. You look absolutely stunning.”

Shyly you avoid his gaze. “Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself.” You gesture towards him, waving your hand up and down his height. The coffee-coloured three piece suit is truly a fabulous compliment to his brushed back blond hair.

The man shakes his head. “You were the one who should have given me a heads up. I have the prettiest woman in the party as my date.”

This man sure has a way with his words.

“I can see why you are such a successful lawyer, Mr. Yoon.” You saunter past him. “Let’s get going now. We’re already late.”

“Yes madam,” he rushes past you to hold open the car door, making you smile.

—

The venue is crowded when you arrive.

It takes no more than five minutes for your colleagues to spot the two of you and five more minutes later, you are graced by Mr. Pi’s holy presence. He gushes over the two of you and when Jeonghan escapes the conversation by saying he’ll get drinks for you, Mr. Pi corners you.

“Are you sure you are not dating our dear Mr. Yoon?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “No, Mr. Pi. Come on now, let it be.”

He hums and then nods thoughtfully, pushing his sunglasses up his nose bridge.

Who knows why he is wearing that indoors and at night.

“I understand,” the man rubs his chin slowly and seriously as if he is pondering the most critical issue of life. “Our chairman’s handsome son left a lasting impression on you.”

Even before you realise it, a soft, almost wistful sigh escapes your lips. “Can we not talk about him? At least not here?”

Mr. Pi looks at you from above his sunglasses, “This is the place to talk about him. Tonight people will talk about him.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Wait, what?

“Mr. Pi—” You reach out for him but he spots an old colleague and walks over to him, ignoring you with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Right then, Jeonghan is back with two flutes of champagne in his hands. You snatch one from him and immediately gulp it down. Then, you narrow your eyes at him. “Nice job, jerk. Leaving me alone with him.”

The man cheekily shrugs his shoulder, unable to fight off the knowing smile blooming on his lips. Grinning at you, he sips his champagne. 

With a shake of your head, you go around the room accompanied by Jeonghan, mingling with old and new faces. The stage is being set up for the upcoming speeches by the top executives of the company. The closing speech will, of course, be Chairman Jeon’s. The grand hall room increasingly grows crowded as you finish two more glasses of champagne while socialising, everyone eager to hear the big announcement.

“I think you have drunk enough for now.” Jeonghan blocks your hand when you reach for the fourth glass as a waiter passes by. You pout, “Oh come on. Socialising takes a lot of energy. I cannot talk to these boring people about boring things on a Saturday night while being sober.”

A scoff of amusement comes from him and he opens his mouth to say something but his vision shifts, focusing on something behind you. His expression changes and you turn your head back to see what he is looking at.

Not what. Who.

Wonwoo stands a few feet behind you, looking unfairly stunning. The contrast of his black blazer against his crisp white shirt is stunning and with sharp features and his hair brushed back, he is a scene stealer.

He, however, seems not to attract attention as he remains on the edge of the hall room, near where the lights are dimmer. As your eyes meet his and the raging beat of your heart loudens, he holds your gaze before taking quick steps towards you.

Within a couple of seconds, he is right in front of you. 

“We need to talk. Privately.” He says, his posture slightly rigid, and he looks around the room as if making sure no one sees him.

You don’t have much time to process his words as he ushers you away by tugging your wrist. You look back at Jeonghan almost helplessly and the man gives you an understanding nod. “I’ll be here, don’t worry.”

You are quickly rushed out of the grand room and pulled down a hallway at the end of which there are a few private rooms. Wonwoo pulls you inside and shuts the door behind you.

The room is messy and if you are not wrong, it seems to be his dressing room.

In your mind, an equation starts to form as you take everything in.

Finally, your eyes land on Wonwoo after scouring the room and you find him looking at you attentively.

There is a hard lump in your throat that you have to swallow.

“Hi.” The man says quietly, almost shyly.

“It has been a while,” you murmur as a greeting, trying to keep your voice as flat as possible. 

“Way too long,” he replies, his voice much quieter as he enunciates each word slowly and carefully. You wonder if it is your mind playing tricks on you or if the depth of his eyes just increased tenfold.

Whatever, you cannot let yourself get caught up in this again. The tension in the air is thickening by the second.

“Why did you bring me here?” You avoid his eyes, your gaze settling on the skin peeking from underneath his shirt as the two buttons are undone.

“Right.” Wonwoo blinks as if breaking out of a trance. “I wanted to tell you something. I mean…it will be announced later but I thought you out of all people should hear it from me first.”

The way he speaks, his eyes skirting around, his hands fidgety tells you what the news is. You voice it out for him. “You are taking over the company?”

You see his pupils widen. After a moment's pause, he says. “Yes.”

Hm. He is dressed too fancy to attend as a mere employee anyway.

You are proud of him for sure. He has grown as a person since you last saw him. But at the same time, there is dread in the pit of your stomach. With him now taking over the company, there is no escaping him. You will be seeing him, whether you like it or not. 

“Congratulations.” You hum. “I appreciate you informing me separately but it wasn’t necessary. We don’t have any personal contact. I am just another employee, Jeon…Chairman Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo looks at you with surprise and you wonder if it is your icy demeanour that makes him frown.

“Still…I have to thank you. You had a huge part to play in getting me here.”

Oh really?

For a brief moment, your mind flashes back to earlier this year when you were seeing each other. The late night talks about his future with the company. You find yourself wondering how he managed to earn his father’s trust so quickly because you remember him telling you his father would never let him take over. Due to his unrefined behaviors, of course. But it seems that he has grown out of them which is good for him.

“I better get going. Jeonghan is probably waiting for me.” You step towards the door but Wonwoo grabs your upper arm, pulling you back with a gentle tug.

“Do you not miss me? Not one bit?” His voice is so thick with emotion that it feels foreign to you. Like his, your throat closes up, and you hate how a few words from him make tears burn in the back of your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. Just let—”

“It does! There is something else I have to tell you.”

“I don’t care!” You yell, jerking yourself free from his hold. “You can not act all familiar after so long. We are not like that anymore! Why can’t you understand?”

In the semi darkness of the room, you see his eyes glimmer. 

The very next moment he is kissing you.

And you are kissing him back. 

Just for tonight, you tell yourself as your resolve slips. You are going to give in just tonight. Just one last time. You truly don’t have it in you to turn away from him now, from his warmth, touch, and embrace when this is what you have been longing for the past few months.

Maneuvering your body with his, he pins you against the wall, trapping you with ease. And tonight, there is nowhere you want to escape to.

"I missed you." He whispers like a mantra, devouring your mouth like a starved man. He trails kisses down your jaw as his hands remove your straps from your shoulders, revealing the entire expanse of your shoulder and neck for him to play with. In between heated kisses, his hands explore your breasts, playing with your soft mounds over the fabric of your dress. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you. 

Your hands move over his chest, feeling the firm muscles under your fingertips before pushing his blazer off his shoulders. The lines are hazy just like your mind as you cannot decipher who pulls whom closer. In the dense cloud of lust, you can only fathom the opening of the buttons of his shirt and his warm body pressing next to yours. 

“I need you,” Wonwoo murmurs against your lips. One of his hands moves expertly down your thigh before he grips the back of your knee and places it around his waist. You pull him even closer, smashing your lips against his, hot and heavy as your tongue meets his.

Briefly, you hear the groan of his zipper being undone. You lift your dress, standing at an angle that helps him comfortably slide between your legs, his unrelenting grip on the back of your thigh.

"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. " His whisper is a command as he positions himself at your entrance, pushing your panties to a side.

And before you can blink, he's inside you. The stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud, breathy groan of pleasure that makes you squeeze his shoulders and bite your lip. 

This. This is exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you needed.

You feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your hold on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.

"Gosh, you're so tight. I missed you.” He grunts with each thrust. “Letting me fuck you against a wall, in my dressing room. Tell me, did you miss this? Did you miss me like I missed you?" Wonwoo demands, a hand reaching up to squeeze your cheeks, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Look at me and tell me you did not miss me,” he pants, a snarl etched in his tone as he removes his hand from your face and grips the back of your throat, pulling your face closer to his.

"W-Wonwoo," you try to moan. Wonwoo keeps watching you with a darkened gaze, his pace matching the fierceness in his gaze as he continues to drill into you. He shakes after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back. “You are still that dirty girl. You're still my filthy slut."

You hate how much you missed his filthy mouth. 

"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, let me come, Wonwoo."

The man smiles, and it almost appears cruel and cocky as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall. He increases his pace, thrusting in and out of you so hard that your back starts aching. However, you are way beyond complaining because the next moment his release is filling you up, triggering yours. Your cry is loud and unceremonious as you cling to him and ride out your high, feeling your release in the deepest fibres of your being

A short moment later, Wonwoo’s grip on you loosens. With a slightly hazy mind, you watch you grab some tissues, cleaning up you and him. With the haze of lust disappearing gradually, you find your head clearing up. The silence in the air now feels suffocating and you find yourself playing a guessing game.

Why is he so quiet? What is he thinking?

As Wonwoo buttons up his shirt and fixes his jacket, his gaze meets yours and you see his eyes fall on your lips. Pressing your fingertips around your lips, you realise your lipstick is smudged. Quietly, he hands you a tissue paper and you walk to the mirror, using it to dab the lipstick stain around your lips.

In the mirror, you watch Wonwoo watching you. All throughout, another strange, suffocating silence persists. As you toss the tissue in the bin, the silence is finally broken by his quiet, somber voice, “My father arranged a marriage for me.”

Your body grows ice cold.

For one long, horrible moment, you stop breathing, thinking, praying that you heard wrong.

“What are you…what— what do you mean?”

“He wants me to marry a chaebol heiress— Yuna Lee, sometime next year.”

Suddenly, you are scrambling to get your thoughts in order. It is always like this with him. One moment it is quiet and the next you are hit by a full speed freight train. 

“You should not have done that. We should not have done that. Why didn’t you tell me that before?” 

“Well, I tried—”

Suddenly, your blood is boiling and you are seeing red.

“What was this, a goodbye fuck?” You hiss, fixing the straps of your dress.

“What?” Wonwoo scoffs. “No! I have been thinking about you for months! Trying to figure out how to approach you—

“With all that thinking you sure did one good job!” You find yourself turning towards the door. 

“Oh come on! I…I missed you. You drive me crazy. You know damn well my brain stops working when you are near me.”

“No, Wonwoo. I don’t.” You grit. 

The passion, the emotion that you have been holding back all these months comes out in tidal waves. “In case you don’t remember, during our relationship, you were always so nonchalant, so detached. You did not give a shit about me. Not really because I was a fuck buddy to you. A girl getting paid to get your ass out of trouble every time and also someone available for a quick bang!”

Wonwoo’s demeanour shifts. You visibly see him get defensive. “Well, it's not like you professed your love to me! You did not ever hint that you were in love with me.”

Your mouth falls open at the absurdity of his words.

“You… you did not treat me with the minimum respect. You would disappear for weeks, Wonwoo, completely out of the radar only to show up when you needed my help.” You pause. “Never mind, it is pointless to argue with you.” You turn, reaching for the handle of the door.

Wonwoo stops you by roughly tugging on your arm. His grip is iron solid. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to leave without hearing my piece!”

You place a hand on his and use it to remove his fingers from your skin. “The time for speaking was months ago. Not now in a dressing room, minutes before you are about to be announced the new CEO.”

“I finally have my life together!”

“Do you?” You take a step closer to him with a challenge. “Do you really?”

Wonwoo remains silent, his eyes sparkling with thundering storms and clouds of emotions.

You continue. “I was your comfort zone. You used me when you needed me and then forgot about me when you were not in the mood. It would not have mattered if I professed undying love for you. You did not love me, not in the right way. You did not and you don’t right now. This is you trying to find comfort in something familiar…me.”

A twisted, unironical smile appears on his lips. “Oh, so you are what now, a therapist?”

You remain silent, watching him without blinking.

The man shakes his head, scoffing. “If you only knew how I truly felt…” His fingers card through his hair as he takes a step back. “You have no idea how I feel. In fact, right now, I don’t think you even know how you feel!”

Your lips part, ready to interject, but he goes on. “You are right. This was a mistake. I should not have told you about my dad’s plans of getting me married. No, because you would have liked to just straight up receive my wedding invite, huh? I should have just married her and showed up with her one day and introduced you as a special friend, no? Would you have liked that? Would that be the right thing to do?”

Each syllable coming out of his mouth burns like acid. Tears blur your vision but you force yourself not to cry in front of him.

“I fucking hate you.” You breathe, uttering each world slowly. “I hope you have a miserable life with her, you asshole. Never show me your face again.” Gathering your dress with one hand, you march towards the door, not stopping when he calls out your name or tries to hold onto you.

He can go to hell.

Your steps are quick as you pick up pace, running down the long hallway of the private rooms and then down a common corridor before you come to the large foyer in front of the elevator. With your skirt fisted in your hands, you dash for it but a voice makes you pause.

You turn back to find Jeonghan calling your name and jogging after you. As he comes to a stop in front of you, his eyes go up and down the length of your body, taking notice of your dishevelled appearance. 

“Are you okay?” His fingers gently touch your arm but you don’t let him pull you closer.

You need to leave.

“I need to go home.” You whisper, voice wobbly.

“Why are you running?” He steps closer to you, a desperation in his voice that matches the look in your eyes. “That bastard keeps hurting you and you keep running from him. Go and fucking… I don’t know— cause a scene! Drag him on stage and smack him once or twice.”

You are not in the mood for this.

“Stop it, Jeonghan,” you grunt turning away but the man steps in front of you.

“No! I won’t stop when I see you repeatedly suffering because of him.”

If you were not so overcome with emotions, you would roll your eyes.

“Just let me go.” You hiss, stepping past the man blocking your way. As you cross him, however, a harsh grip on your wrist forces you to stop. 

“Go out with me,” Jeonghan says in the calmest manner, the hold of his fingers on your wrist steadfast like his voice.

You almost make a move to yank yourself free but the diction of those words stops you in your tracks as if a thunderbolt has just struck you. You slowly turn your head back to meet Jeonghan’s eyes, wondering if he really said that. The strength you had moments ago to break your hand free suddenly dissipates as you meet his piercing gaze.

Along with your heartbeat, time stops.

You forget to blink, feeling the subtle tightening of his grip on you. As the silence hangs longer in the air and the depth of his words settles into the empty grand hall and every crevice of your tattered heart, you find yourself motionless, thoughtless, speechless.

“Date me. You know I’ll treat you better.” He states, again.

You feel like you are hyperventilating. A shaky breath comes from your lips and after that, each breath is a struggle. 

Suddenly, everything is too much.

Too much light in this hall. Too much noise in the background.

Too much sincerity in his words.

For a moment, you genuinely find yourself considering.

And as your gaze strays from your colleague for the smallest moment, you notice Wonwoo standing a few meters behind him. 

The look in his eyes is inexplicable but you feel every emotion radiating off him and you immediately know he heard everything. He doesn’t move, however. As the silence persists, his gaze darkens, watching you like a hawk, almost as if he is waiting to hear your verdict.

At the same time, the longer you look, his gaze appears vulnerable, betrayed.

And you feel…guilty.

Want to know how Jeonghan actually got the reader's order right? Read the special scene here!

series masterliest

[koalayoo]

Men who talk a certain way.

They carry themselves with elegance, talk with a poised cadence unique to them. They hold themselves upright and have an air of superiority. A cunning look, signature smirk, firm hand; these are staples of their character, they know how to strike a deal. Whether for their people or their own gain, they intimidate those to gain an advantage no matter how many exploits gone through or people exploited.

People either love or fear them.

They’re important.

It’s no surprise that they sit at the centre of the table at a meeting, commanding attention. All eyes are on them, gripping their every word. Prompt nods and murmurs of agreements follow. They’re smart too. Incredible wit and perceptiveness as they continuously glance at everyone, especially you.

Fuck, and they’re hot too.

It makes your blood run hot. Jolts shoot throughout your body and you avert your gaze. It was stupid to you to be losing your cool for a man who felt indifferent about your existence. Maybe that isn’t the right word. 

Sometimes, you would question whether he hated you. Whenever you needed a pen, your hands brushed against one another for a second and he would quickly pull back as if being stung by a bee with a slight scowl forming on his face. If the piles of paper you needed to finish took too long, he would be adamant you finish for the night, which is all fine and dandy if he wasn’t looking for help from others to complete your work. He even reprimanded you, talked to you in that familiar stern tone once for not having your priorities in place when a stranger came up to you in a flirtatious manner as if you could control that. 

He pissed you off. 

Why couldn’t he care about you like a normal person?

However, you were wrong about all of it. He cared too much.

When your fingers grazed him he was ridden with guilt, these were the same hands he would think about at night. Imagine tracing the sharp edges of his skin. He would shut his eyes and throw his head back, replacing his hands with your own. Try to commit the soft feel of yours to his. Would you go slow or fast? He wondered. How would you hold him? Would you let him make a mess? His thoughts would trail on and on questioning your grip, your face, what you would say.

So, it was no surprise when he saw you working yourself to exhaustion that he wanted you to rest. That was his duty after all. Only he could do that. The eyes that he desperately wanted to see glazed over with a lust filled haze needed to be well rested first. That way, he could slowly see them become drunk for him, turning red, bloodshot from just how well he would treat you.

And it was especially no surprise that when another person had the audacity to want you too, he had to stop them. Sure, you didn’t deserve the scolding but he would make you feel so much better later on. He just had to be patient.

Had to keep his tone steady and tame. Pretend to treat you just like everyone else. Even if you thought he hated you. He could fuck you like that too if you wanted. He would give you anything you wanted. However, you didn’t deserve to know how depraved he truly was.

There was a thought that lingered at the forefront of his mind. If you found out just how he imagined you, would you leave? He figured you might feel disgusted, a man of his caliber, his power, wanting to succumb to you. And so he continued to talk. Continued to keep his tone steady. Keep his tone tame. 

He would keep himself in line; refined. Because if you found out how he was imagining you, perhaps then this man would truly feel fear.

fantasising about...

Sylus, NEUVILLETTE, Jing Yuan, Welt, Sunday, DAN HENG, Artem, Zhongli!, Gepard, Alhaitham?, Cyno ...and anyone else you're thinking of

Hope you liked this! Inspired by the song 'Talk' by Hozier. Specifically the line, "So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you." Please give it a listen! It was in my Spotify Top 5 it's so good and captures the vibe I was trying to go for with this. Sorry for the yap. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!

[mmaybanks]

❝ a pogue christmas ❞ — jj maybank

𓇼 pairing: bsf!jj x reader

𓇼 summary: the pogues are celebrating christmas and jj decides to risk ruining it all for a simple mistletoe kiss

𓇼 warning(s): fluff, kissing, suggestive/sexual comments and jokes, mentions of abuse/bad family, soft jj, suggestive (?) ending

𓇼 a/n: i blurred the girl’s face in the photo because idk who it is and i don’t want anyone getting confused😭 also its almost christmas and this story is kinda based on a joke i have with a friend!! ALSO this is my first post and im nervous so be nice pls😞

𓇼 wc: ≈ 2.5k

masterlist

it was the week before christmas, and now that the pogues offically had a house of their own, you were the most excited to decorate. sadly, it would have to be done after some begging.

"please, jay. i know you wanna." you sing out, disrupting the previously peaceful silence. the groans of all the pogues were heard. "y/n, why do you wan'to decorate so bad? it's not your first christmas." john b asked. he wasn't opposed to it, but neither was sarah, or pope, or kiara, or cleo. it really was just jj, and for the others, the fact that it took effort contributed.

"can i not enjoy something?" you sighed feigning disappointment, "fine, i'll just decorate all alone, risk my falling to my death, or breaking my back from the heav–"

"god damn, woman. c'mon, let's go get you a tree and some lights." jj abruptly cut you off. you turned back to him with wide eyes, from surprise, but also guilt. he didn't look happy to do it. sarah stifled a laugh from the interaction, watching as two of her best friends stared. "it's fine jj–we don't have to. no one else wants to."

he rolled his eyes, but stood from the couch. when you just stared at him, he sighed loudly. "let's go." he ordered. you let out a quiet squeal, hopping off the couch and to your room, where you grabbed a pair of sneakers to wear out.

the night was spent decorating a newly bought christmas tree, hanging lights throughout the house, and drinking hot cocoa.

after a long few hours, it was nearing midnight. the rest of the pogues were off to 'sleep', while jj stayed up with you. you were still trying to decorate, still having ideas–just no longer the energy to keep doing them.

"c'mere." jj mumbled from his spot on the couch. you look back at him over your shoulder, seeing his eyes closed. you took the opportunity to let your vision linger on his arm and shoulder muscles, sure he wouldn't notice. "y'know if you came over you could get a better look, maybe cop a feel." he smirked, tease evident in his tone.

"maybe i was just worried about your temperature, think of that?" you weakly defended against the accurate allegations. "mhm." his voice so weak and rough, but maintaining the playfulness. god, can you blame a girl?

you took a few small strides to the edge of the couch, lowering yourself into his warm embrace. the moment you were in his arms he held on tight. you tried not to focus on how close your bodies were, so close you could feel his breath against your shoulder. goosebumps spread across your bare legs, clad only in small shorts with a christmas pattern.

"i think if anyone's wearin' a concerning amount of clothes, it's you." he whispered, tapping his icy cold fingers against your legs. "i'm fine like this." you lied impulsively. there was no reason, no need, but you hated him to be right about every part of you.

"right, no yeah, of course baby." he played along, the nickname sliding off his tongue too easy. you could feel your heart beat a bit faster, but your breathing slowed against his. "yeah well, these are also the only christmas pajamas i have, so." he hummed in agreement. maybe just to assure you he heard, maybe just to assure himself he was awake.

"can i ask you something?" you paused, once again getting a hum in place for a response. "and you answer honestly." at the suddenly serious tone, he opened his eyes.

he gently pushed up onto his elbows, looking down at you. he stared, trying to memorize every feature he could while he could. he loved being this close to you, being able to see every detail possible. every pore, every color in your eyes–if they were open. all of you. it wasn't until you opened your eyes a few seconds later he realized he hadn't responded.

"yeah. 'course. complete and total honesty." he assured, strong eye contact held since your eyes opened. "yeah." you echoed in a mindless mutter.

you snapped back into your mind after a split moment, your eyes finding the ceiling suddenly very interesting. "um, so why–why didn't you want to decorate? for christmas."

you noticed his jaw clench and unclench before he opened his mouth to speak. it was shut just as quickly, and you could see him searching for the right words to say. "i jus' uh, didn't ever have any good memories with it, y'know? growin' up poor, with a shitty father, not really fun."

oh. "mh, yeah, 'm sorry. i guess i never thought of it like that." he sighed, looking down to his fingers tapping against your side. "no biggie." he forced a laugh, almost sounding genuine, but the sad undertones shown through.

"well, y'know what that means?" you couldn't hide the smile that threatened to show on your face, but part of you didn't want to. it kept the atmosphere not too heavy. "what's that?"

"y'gotta make good new memories." he smiled at your optimism. "thanks for today. it means a lot."

instead of a verbal response, he just settled down comfortably, wrapping his arms around you closer.

the following week was spent with a lot of talk of christmas. you were determined to make good memories of christmas for jj–making gingerbread houses, binging christmas movies, baking regular cookies, everything you could think of. so focused on that, you had yet to notice the simple decoration above the doorframe of the kitchen and living room that you didn't add.

it was christmas eve, another night where the pogues had all already went to bed. to your knowledge, all of them had.

earlier you had all decided against gifts, which was understandable. even after el dorado, you didn't have infinite money to spend. but, you had saved up just enough for christmas presents for everyone. nothing too extravagant or expensive, but small things with meaning to them.

each and every present had a story or inside meaning with the person it was for. jj's gift was a handmade bracelet you made for yourself a few months ago that jj would always point out. you tried to give it to him multiple times but he would always refuse.

"what'cha got there?" a loud whisper called out, causing your soul to practically leave you body. "jesus, jj. what are you doing awake?"

his body shook with a laugh against the doorframe he was leaning against. "nuh-uh, i asked a question first."

you sighed, "mm, jus' a few itty-bitty presents." you smiled like you had just been caught doing something bad, which to be fair, you were doing something you said you wouldn't. "mhm, i thought we weren't doing presents?"

"it's a . . . christmas miracle?" you retorted, sounding too much like a question. "okay, look. i got you all presents but they were before that and it was all cheap. promise."

his eyes softened at your guilty voice. clearing this throat, he walked over and sat beside you on the ground. your shoulders were touching, as were your knees, and it made you wonder if he felt as nauseous with nerves as you did.

"'s okay. i won't tell." he leaned closer, a playful fire in his eyes, his tone playful as always. "promise." he repeated back to you. a moment of silence passed before he spoke again. "so what'd you get me?"

you rolled your eyes and scoffed, feigning annoyance. "you can't wait 5 hours?" he shook his head 'no', a grin exposing himself.

"nope." he looked away from you, at the pile of presents on the floor. he shoved his shoulder on yours before standing up, looking at you expectantly, stretching his arms in a way that had you drooling.

he didn't say another word, but you felt like you were supposed to follow him. you did, but you were so focused on his shoulders, the soft lighting from the tree lights really highlighting each ridge of his muscles, that you hadn't noticed his sudden stop.

you ran right into his back, now in shock and very confused.

"huh." he spoke, looking at your eyes and up, back and forth, before continuing. "would you look at that." he acted amused, like it was a coincidence.

but under that facade, his palms were sweaty, his heart was pounding fast and hard–feeling like it was going to explode out of his chest. he couldn't help but have a million thoughts running through his head all at once, wondering how this would go. he hoped all of the stolen glances meant to you what they had always meant to him.

you looked up after he had done it twice, now realizing what he was talking about. you could feel your cheeks warm, your heartbeat in your neck, but all you could really focus on was jj.

the bright blue eyes you had learned to lose yourself in, the lips you longed for, him in his entirety. the jj you had fallen in love with. that same jj, wanted to kiss you.

you felt like you couldn't breath. what if this was just him making another flirty joke to you? but with the way he looked at you in this moment, there was no way, his eyes were flickering between your eyes and your lips. they got stuck on your lips repeatedly. he wanted to feel them on his, wanted to taste you, if even only for a moment.

"rules are rules, right?" he whispered, his hands slowly inching to grab your waist. his thumbs rubbed up and down on the now exposed skin, the flimsy cropped shirt doing nothing to cover the goosebumps spread on your entire body.

a weak, "yeah." was all you could manage to get out, all other sounds caught deep in your throat. "yeah?" he echoed, silently begging for confirmation that you wanted this and this was actually happening. he needed to know this wasn't another dream.

"mhm. rules, y'know. pope would kill us if we didn't follow the rules." at your small joke he let out a huffy-laugh, shaking his head, trying to wipe the smile off his own face.

the moment of comfortable laughter was replaced quickly, the air feeling thicker by the second. one of his hands moved from your waist to your face, the other traveling lower to your hip. he gave it a slight squeeze as he tilted your head up.

the anticipation was killing you, but in the best way imaginable. you pushed forward, your lips finally meeting his in a desperate, but delicate kiss. the type of kiss that showed how much he wanted to kiss you, how long he's been waiting, how much he's holding back. the delicacy surprised you, you thought it would be a more heated kiss, but jj was scared of spilling his all into it and ruining it completely.

somewhere in the back of his mind, he worried that this wasn't a good way to confess, but he remembered the reason thats how he did it. john b had somehow convinced him that if you didnt like him back, he could play it off as 'usual jj flirting', but now he wasn't sure he could.

you gripped the back of his shirt, pulling him closer. his hand migrated again to your lower back, using the placement to press your body further into his. the warmth of your cuddled bodies, and in his chest, made up for the winter weather and the lack of clothing on your bodies.

you could feel his tongue poke your bottom lip ever so slightly, almost like he wasn't ready. at that thought, you could feel your lips form a smile but you were unable stop it, breaking the kiss. "wow." you breathed out. "pretty good, right?"

you forced a nod out, ignoring the underlying tone of humor in his question. you couldn't help yourself from giggling, both at your reactions and at the excitement from finally being able to kiss him. "what're ya laughing at?"

"you." he raised an eyebrow, pointing to himself. "you just kissed me." you smiled.

"christmas miracle, amirite?" you smiled to yourself, pulling him closer to hide your face in his chest. "shut up." you mumbled into his shirt. "baby, i got you in my arms right now, it's gotta be some typa miracle."

"oh yeah? this can't be just because i want to?" you teased, pulling back. the shit-eating grin on your face morphed into something a lot softer when you noticed jj's body subconsciously rock closer to you. "nah, you wouldn't."

"no?" you asked, pressing your lips into his again, and again, and again. the kisses slowly became more and more natural as you did. "nope. no way."

"jj." he paused his movement to continue, looking you straight in the eye. "yeah?"

you hesitated for a second, and jj could tell what was coming next, so he began his long awaited confession.  "i like you. like, a lot. i mean, fuck, i love you. i can't, i just, don't know–"

"i love you too jay." you cut him off, knowing he was just going to spiral. "you're so cute, oh my god." you squeal after his dimples pop into his cheeks. he pushes your hand away from his cheeks, trying to avoid you noticing his flush.

"'m not cute. just, c'mere." he whispered to not break the comfortable bubble surrounding you two. he reached in for a hug, swooping his arms under yours, wrapping around your chest loosely. your arms raised to around his neck, inching your face closer again. he buried his head into the crevice of your neck, breathing you in.

"and why would i do that?" you giggled to yourself, enjoying the act of confusion and innocence. "i love you."

his suddenly serious confession caught you off guard, catching your breath in seconds. you kissed the top of his head, squeezing your arms tighter. from behind you, he could see the clock turn to midnight. "best christmas ever."

"yeah?" you asked, relief and happiness overflowing your senses. "mhm." he gently kissed you again, swiftly picking you up. out of reflex, you wrapped your legs around his torso. "jj, if you drop me i swear—"

"relax, baby. i won’t drop you." he giggled in your neck. he laid your down against the couch, letting himself lay comfortably between your legs. he rested his head on your shoulder, giving one more peck to your cheek. his fingers gripped onto your plush thighs, not planning on moving anywhere, just to hold. his lips began a descent down your neck, gentle enough to feel but not leave marks. "can it be christmas more often?"

"how ’bout we leave the mistletoe up, that way you can man up and kiss me everyday." he nodded. as he cuddled closer, his nose brushed your neck, small laughter erupting from it tickling you. "how ’bout, everyday, no mistletoe needed?" he whispered.

"works for me." you giggled out, his mouth kissing for any skin in sight. his affections sent shivers down your spine, the soft rub on your legs causing you to let out a soft sigh. he smirked at the noise escaping your lips, capturing yours and his again in a more heated and messy way this time.

"c'mon guys, not on the couch."

[jarofstyles]

The Favor 12

It’s been 800 years and I’m sorry 😭 now that we reached this point inspo has come and gone so fast. But I got this part done and the next one on Patreon now! I would love to hear thoughts and suggestions, I’ve already implemented some of what you guys have asked for in my planned parts 🩷 enjoy! And happy holidays

Previous part

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 13 and 220+ exclusive writings

WC- 6.6k

Warnings- mentions of a Dom/sub dynamic, anxiety mention, misogyny, we hate Danny club tee shirts being passed around, tooth rotting fluff, mentions of relationship trauma

Danny hadn’t always been a bad boyfriend. 

At first he had been kind and sweet. With him being a tad bit more outgoing than Y/N, he had brought her into his friend group and integrated her as one of them. He had brought her flowers for their 6 month anniversary, they went on dates on the weekends twice a month, and it was nice. Solid, steady. 

Until he got a little too comfortable. 

Y/N could see it now that she had removed her heart from the equation. Danny was lazy, and it had shown more and more as the year mark hit, and then two years, and she had to remind him of Valentine’s Day, make the birthday plans, schedule the dates, or go along with the plans he’d made with his friends. He would get her gifts on those occasions, yes, but the most stereotypical things. It had lacked thought. Flowers and chocolates on Valentine’s Day were nice! She didn’t want to come across as ungrateful ever- but when he’d gotten her dark chocolate when he should have known she really disliked it, it made it a little less sweet- pun intended. 

If someone were to ask Y/N why she stayed so long,  she wouldn’t have one singular answer. Comfort? Familiarity? Routine? Perhaps lack of self esteem? She wasn’t sure. Being raised to think you had a specific way of doing things, of dating, engagement, then marriage, she hadn’t really been given many other examples. Growing up, her parents had been high school sweethearts, as had both of their parents. There was no breaking up, it was a one and done type of deal. 

She wasn’t sure if that was set in stone, though. It was an unspoken rule, something left unsaid like a thinly veiled threat in the night air. They spoke of the great love story of finding your one and only and it made her feel like she had to stick to that too. She’d never asked her mother about it, because she never really entertained the idea of having any other partner. 

It was easy with Danny in the way that she knew what to expect. She knew his habits, she knew his work, his schedule. She knew his friends, his plans for life, there were no surprises. Nothing that would jump back out and bite her, catch her off guard as he slowly leaned into being less attentive.&

Maybe that’s why even when she started having doubts she had stuck them to the back of her mind. 

There was no denying that Harry had been a very, very big part in all of it. The funny part of it was, she wasn’t sure that the sex bit was what truly got her to reconsider even if it had started it all. As incredible, euphoric as she felt- it was the way she felt afterwards. Before, even. When they sat in his bed and he stroked her cheek, feeding her cubes of cantaloupe or strawberries sliced in half, or when he’d picked up a carton of her yogurt and granola after mentioning what she usually had for breakfast at home. 

It was how gentle he handled her not only physically, but emotionally. He checked in, he cared, he asked her multiple times what she liked and what she didn’t. If it was okay to touch her certain ways, if he could kiss her. Just little things that seemed so minuscule in size if you looked at it from the outside but felt so big to her that it tore at her heart. 

He’d gotten her that damn water bottle, he’d gotten used to washing her hair when they shared showered, he used that tender tone of voice that had her bones feeling flexible as she melded into him each and every time. 

And another thing she had found to like about Harry, was the fact that he was just… dominant in most regards.

It wasn’t overly so. He wasn’t this complete alpha, macho man, fists banging on the chest sort of guy. He didn’t walk into the room and demand to be the biggest and baddest in the room. It was understated, quiet. If you looked at him you could just… see. Feel it. You could see he held it together well, that he liked control in the way he kept things organized and held eye contact regardless of who it was. He very rarely shied away from a situation. In fact, Y/N felt very special for being one of the only people she had seen make him blush or get flustered. 

It was second nature to him to just do. To pick up where she left off. So it did make her wonder what else she could do for him. How she could help him relieve stress. Yes, there was the sexual aspect that she was more than willing to hand over whenever he wanted (no exaggeration- any time, any place) but she wanted to be the person he allowed himself to loosen up with. 

She’d seen glimpses. Silliness and joking, that sort of tenderness that he didn’t seem to give to anyone else, but she wanted to make his life easier. Researching the dynamics between dominants and submissives, she had some questions- but the first thing she needed to do was cut off the dead weight- the only thing holding them back. 

—-

Meeting at the park was a good idea. She could tell by his face that he had a clue what was going to happen and as much as she tried not to, she did feel a tiny sliver of guilt. 

Y/N didn’t necessarily cheat, no. She’d had full permission, ecstatic permission, actually. He’d handed her over to Harry. Being realistic she knew he didn’t realize it would be an option that he wouldn’t get her back. Danny was headstrong in a way she found a lot of men were. He didn’t consider the possibility that she actually did know what she wanted and once she had a taste, she would want that for herself all the time.

“You’re leaving me for him.”

“Not necessarily.” She sighed, crossing her arms around her body. “It isn’t just about him. It’s about the fact that we aren’t compatible anymore, and we haven’t been in a long time.”

Danny scoffed, tilting his head towards the sky. “So, what? I’m nice? I let you go and see and play around to explore that shit and now you’ve gotten addicted to that sort of stuff? We can get you to therapy, because it isn’t healthy. But obviously it was a mistake to hand you off to him-“

“Yes. If you loved me, if you truly wanted me, Daniel- you’d never, ever want someone else to touch me.” She remembered how Harry had said he didn’t want to share her. Look, sure. But never touch. “You said the shit I’m into is weird, you shame me, then pawn me off to your friend which… it’s dangerous. The both of us are lucky Harry is genuinely an amazing guy-“ she shot him a look as he let out a noise but continued anyways. “Harry is amazing and kept me safe. He taught me the safe ways of doing things. And I liked it. I’m not going to lie to you, I really liked all of it and I know you aren’t into it.” For once, her face softened.

“And you don’t have to be. I don’t judge you for not wanting to do it. I never have. I was upset by your reactions and how you made me feel bad, but I would never ask you to do something you truly aren’t comfortable with. But if this is something I want, something I find myself needing to be fulfilled, I’m not going to try to change you or myself to try and salvage a relationship that was barely working anyways.”

“Barely working?” Danny looked genuinely confused. “The fuck are you talking about.” Again, her anger bubbled under the surface, but the exhaustion of the whole thing kept her from exploding. 

“Danny, you barely gave me attention. When you apologized the first time and we went out to the bar, you brushed me off the whole time. You treated me like an accessory. There was no passion to our relationship.” Y/N wasn’t sure how he didn’t see that. “We had the same conversations every day, barely had any excitement. I don’t think you loved me- I think I was convenient. And I don’t hold that against you either, but I think I was convenient to you.”

“That’s just how relationships are! They even out and get a little boring.” He defended, nostrils flaring as he was obviously offended with her observation. She had a feeling he would get that way. It was just another reason why they needed to end things. 

“To a degree. After years of marriage and things settle down, your partner is supposed to become your best friend. And we barely speak to each other if it isn’t about plans, or something you want to. If I feel like talking about something I can physically see you tune me out. This was happening far before you even handed me off to Harry.”

“And he’s going to give you that?” He sneered, looking at her like she was some sort of idiot. It had been very clear since the beginning that Danny really did put people into boxes, and Harry was in the sexual deviant one. He had no ability to see the depth in people and that had always been something that bothered her about him, but seeing it now towards someone she was falling for made her angry. 

“I don’t know.” She snapped. “But regardless if it is him or not, you need to stop that. You just… you learn something about someone and you completely disregard them as people. You knew he was into some different stuff and all of a sudden he’s a whore, some kind of sexual deviant that can’t commit. He’s had partners, long term. He’s caring. He’s kind. He listens to what I have to say. It isn’t just sex every time I go over to his place, you understand that right?” 

He didn’t, obviously, but the way his brows pulled together and he looked at her like he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Did you expect him to string me up and hit me with a paddle a few times and me to run back to you?” She was positive that was the thought process as it was as soon as she saw the face he made. “We bond. We make breakfast or go out for it, we watch shows, we take his dog on a walk- the dynamic of this whole thing goes far past just sex, Danny. It’s trust. I know you did minimal research into what this actually is, but I’m telling you that we weren’t just going at it like bunnies. I’m not hypnotized by his dick. He’s so nice to me, and he listens, and he….” Y/N could feel herself getting emotional, so she had to reign it in. He didn’t need this sort of response from her. 

“Listen. I’m sorry. I know we had plans, but they’re not for me anymore. I have no idea if Harry wants to actually date me or not. I have no clue where my life is going, but I just don’t see us being together anymore.”

——

It was a bit anticlimactic. Danny couldn’t really argue with her, (even if he did try a few times). Not when it was so abundantly clear her mind was made up. It was over. Regardless of what he thought about Harry or her sexual preferences or anything she liked, it was her opinion that mattered. She’d been coasting for so long that she had forgotten how it felt to actually be behind the wheel. As terrifying as it was to navigate- it felt good. 

“A mixed box, please.” Y/N politely asked the worker at the donut shop, knowing Harry was a bit of a fiend for a donut with his coffee. “An extra chocolate though, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course! Half or whole dozen?” 

“Whole, please.” 

She checked her phone to see a text waiting from him, her mood lightening immediately as her eyes traced over the screen. 

H: You alright, sweetheart? Please text me when you’re on your way here x. 

H: p.s. I miss you a little. 

Her heart felt like it grew too big for her chest as she took a shaky inhale, thumbing over the keyboard to reply to the man. It had been ages since she had gotten giddy over a man texting her, Harry being the first one since she’d left school honestly. It wasn’t that she wanted to constantly compare her past relationship with him, but it was hard not to when everything felt so much better.

Y/N: hiiii ❤️ I’m good. I made a stop but as soon as I’m done here I’ll be on my way. Maybe 20? 

Y/N: p.s. I miss you a little bit too 

Tucking her phone back in her pocket, she thanked the girl and checked out at the register, tapping her card before taking the box and walking back out to her car. 

She was a single woman, now. Sort of? That was sort of a mystery. She was Harry’s. The fact was clear both in her heart and the bruises sucked over the swell of her breast, also coincidentally over her heart. The question laid in his hands, if they were an actual item or not. He’d proclaimed she was his what seemed to be a million times but how far did that go? 

It wasn’t like she was dumb- she knew there were feelings in both ends. Men didn’t act like that unless they were actually wanting you. She knew she wasn’t completely naive for feeling somewhat confident that Harry would want her, but it was the question of in what way. As a submissive? As a girlfriend? That question would be asked tonight, but right now she really just needed a hug. 

There was no need to knock anymore as she scales the porch steps and approached the door, instead punching in the code to his security system and pushing the door open. The clicking of nails alerted her to Buttons before she even saw the pup, eagerly running towards her with a happy yip. 

“Hello, my darling.” She cooed, hanging her purse up on the hook and toed her shoes off. “These are not for you, M’sorry. We can get you a treat though. Where’s daddy, hm?” 

“Kitchen!” He called through the house, making her smile widen. She could smell coffee, the dark roast permeating the air as she padded towards the room. It was one of the best times of day to be in the room, sunlight pouring through the wide windows. Even better to frame him as he leaned against the island, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. 

He was always beautiful, but seeing him in this light- literally and metaphorically- had her tummy swirling. His hair fluffy from the shower this morning and pushed off his head, the facial hair he had let grow because she said she liked it, the tee shirt tucked into linen pants, all of it was enticing. It felt more intense now that there was no real barrier holding her back from allowing her to think those sorts of things about him. 

“Excuse me, miss? What’s in that box?” His voice tilted as his smile grew, looking at the familiar pink box. 

“You know what’s in the box.” She hummed, placing it down next to him. “It’s where I stopped. I’m sorry to say I broke into them and ate a chocolate one on the drive here, but there’s 11 others in there for you to choose from.” 

“How will I ever forgive you.” His eyes rolled as he uncrossed his arms and pulled her into them, seeming to know what she needed before she could even utter a word about it. He knew what she went to do and while it was exciting, he knew she had been slightly anxious about the reaction. “You alright, darling? Seriously?” 

Y/N wasn’t sure if it was being in the safety of his arms and realizing that he was the only one she felt this safe with, if it was the slight exhaustion from not being able to sleep well, or the emotion of letting go of something that had once felt like her life, but she felt the wall hit her. Nodding into his chest, she stayed buried there as the tears bubbled over her lashline. 

“Oh, Angel. M’sorry. That’s a dumb question.”’he sighed, curling his hand around the back of her head and gently running his fingers through her hair. “I know. S’been a lot, the last few weeks. But you’re safe here, yeah? We don’t have to talk about it, or we can. It’s up to you.”

She knew he did want to. He wouldn’t press her because he was a good man and he was considerate of her feelings, but he wanted to know what happened and considering the entirety of this, she wanted to. It just… needed to be in a minute. Arms wrapped around his form as she took in unsteady breaths, trying to calm herself down. It was easier said than done when he felt like the lifeline now, but she didn’t want to cry over it. 

“We can.” She gave a watery laugh as she turned her cheek to rest on him, letting herself breathe properly instead of keeping herself shoved against his body. “I’m not upset because we broke up. I-I don’t really care about that, actually. I’m glad. He didn’t take it well but he also didn’t throw a tantrum. It just upset me because I was seeing him for one of the first times as who he was instead of m-making excuses and I felt a little dumb for staying for so long.” It was embarrassing.

Harry knew she wasn’t done so he didn’t interrupt, continuing the soothing strokes as she stayed leaning against him. “He puts people in boxes. Like he… he thought you were one dimensional and so was I. Thought that I didn’t actually know what I w-wanted, and that we were just fucking this whole time. Couldn’t believe that we were actually bonding and that you could possibly like me, or vice versa, outside a bedroom.” Her scoff made him chuckle just a bit, leaning his head down to kiss the top of hers, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. 

“And it really hit me how he couldn’t fathom that you have feelings that go past sexual deviancy or that I actually know what I want and I wasn’t just addicted to sex or something. Did you know he used to get me chocolates for Valentine’s Day but he’d get dark, and I hate dark chocolate.” She sniffled. “Or he’d make me plan stuff because I was ‘better’ at it. I just felt in charge of everything except plans with his friends, unless it had to do with getting a gift for a wedding or baby shower or birthday. Then I could handle it because… I don’t know. I was leading the whole thing and I wasn’t getting anything in return and I’m just now realizing how shitty I felt the whole time. I think I just coasted the whole time b-because my family did the whole high school or college sweetheart things and I felt like I needed to, too.”

It made a lot of sense to him, now, why she felt she needed this. The dynamic. Naturally submissive, he knew, but being forced to take the role that she didn’t want for the sake of a relationship she was trying to keep afloat merely because she felt a responsibility? His poor fucking girl. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I know it isn’t exactly the sort of thing you want to hear and it won’t make it better, but I’m sorry. It hurt you, it made you feel under appreciated and taken for granted. You didn’t deserve any of that.” 

It wouldn’t make a difference now but he wished he had met her first. Met her before Danny had gotten to her and been able to snatch her up, give her the sort of attention she properly needed, take care of her the way she had always been craving. For someone who didn’t naturally have that sort of instinct he had to imagine it was exhausting. Harry took pride in being the planner, the provider. He liked being in charge and knowing what was happening, making things easy and smooth. But for Y/N who already didn’t want to be doing it, he knew it had to have felt like she was trapped. 

“M’never going to make you do those things.” He murmured. “Not if you don’t want to. I don’t… it isn’t something that I’d ever want you to do if you didn’t want to. There is no right or wrong way to have a relationship, but the burden shouldn’t fall on only one person if they don’t want it to.” He smeared his lips in a ring of kisses around her hairline. “I know you don’t need me t’tell you that how you were treated wasn’t right, but I hope you know that you can tell me if you ever feel that way. If you… if you don’t want to do something, you don’t have to.” There was a pause. “When we’re not playing.” 

“I was gonna hold you to that.” She laughed against him, pulling her head back to look at him. “So, um.. I didn’t want to assume anything, but I’m gonna now and think that you want to.. that you like me enough to keep me around?”

Harry looked at her for a few moments before shutting his eyes, dropping his head to rest on hers. “If I hadn’t made it clear before, I think M’gonna make it even clearer now.” 

Y/N didn’t have a chance to breathe before he scooped her up to sit her in the counter, their lips fused together in a kiss she hadn’t fully felt before. Something he had held back, it lingered under it all as she easily melted into him.  It felt different, like a barrier had fallen off with the way he handled her. It was still delicate, still tender, but there was no hint of hesitancy in the way he led the kisses, smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks as he cupped her face in those massive hands she loved so much. Unhurried, unrestrained but no sense of urgency. 

Like he knew now he didn’t have to rush, that he had more time to prove to her that he meant every unspoken word he poured into this. 

The slight salt of her tears reminded him to pull back, to pace himself. Oddly enough, he had no urge to have sex right now. Everything was soft. Silky. Lovelaced and sweet, hinted with the motivation to give her the relationship that she deserved. It meant he’d have to ask her what she would want, but right now he just wanted to bask in the feeling of her in his palms and the warm sun and sugary donuts in the box and the strong coffee finishing its brew across the kitchen. 

“Hi.” He smiled lightly as he pulled back, eyes hooded as he watched hers peel open to meet his own. Her lips were bare of anything but chapstick he had faint taste of- strawberry, he was positive of it- and slightly puffy from the kiss that had gone on for a bit longer than they should have been able to breathe. 

“Hi.” Her voice was a peep as the shyness took over her face, but Harry didn’t let her move from it. As much as she wanted to burrow back into his chest, he kept her chin up. The energy was palpable, giddiness rocking his belly as he tugged her lip from her teeth. No biting of lips near him, not right now. Even if it was cute. 

There was a lot to speak about in regards to them as a pairing, but he wanted to soak in this warmth for a bit before getting down to the gritty bit of it. The girl had brought him his favorite sweets, and he wanted to enjoy them with her.

“Do you want some coffee?” 

“Tea, please.” 

—

Harry hadn’t been positive Y/N would go through with it. 

That wasn’t a fault or doubt of her person, not at all. But he knew that she really didn’t like hurting people. That much had been something he’d learned very early on in knowing her. She had been mindful of Danny’s feelings the whole time, trying not to flaunt any of it in his face and not giving details unless he asked- which he hardly did. 

They’d not really gotten any sort of response about what they’d done in front of him but Harry knew he wasn’t going to say anything about it because he would be too ashamed to admit it. He wasn’t shocked, though, when he got text messages during the day while Y/N slept soundly on his lap while watching a movie as Harry worked on his phone. She never could stay awake when the movie turned on and he played with her hair. One hand had been gently massaging her scalp while the other typed on his screen when the message popped up on his screen. 

D: I don’t know what the fuck you did to her but I hope you’re happy. I trusted you with her, man. And you fucking stole her. She was mine. That shit you’re into is disgusting and you’ve brainwashed her or something, it’s fucked up. 

Harry almost laughed at the message until he remembered what Y/N had been so upset about. The fact she hadn’t been seen as a person with her own emotions and feelings during the duration of the relationship had hit her. It may have started out good but it ended badly when she realized that he didn’t think she could choose what she liked. This was a prime example of it. 

HS: I get being upset, but I didn’t steal her. She isn’t property. She’s capable of making her own decisions and you texting me something like that proves you don’t trust her judgment yet again. I’ll do my best to make her happy, I care about her more than you can fathom. 

HS: I won’t be by any group gatherings, so don’t worry about that. Bye. 

Harry muted the conversation. 

It really wasn’t something he needed to talk to about with him anymore. He wasn’t sorry, he didn’t regret anything, he didn’t think what they did was fucked up. He could go back and forth about how Danny had been the one to hand over his girlfriend and push her right into Harry’s arms but at what cost? Why would he bother? 

She was curled in his lap, head on his thighs with soft breaths puffing against his shirt. Buttons laid at his dog bed near the fireplace and he felt that happiness bubble up in his stomach again. This was what he wanted. 

The dominant and submissive dynamic was something he loved and he enjoyed, absolutely. But the base level of his desires was wanting a real relationship with this before all the rest of it fell into place. Happiness at the most base level, trust, peace. Finding the delicate balance. 

His eyes traced over her features as his mind wandered a bit. Was a full dynamic what she wanted? Was she looking for commitment right off the bat? Or did she need a little breathing room? 

That didn’t seem as likely considering how she’d come right back home to him. 

The knowledge that she didn’t have anything holding her back was something that pleased him endlessly. He didn’t have to worry about stepping on toes. While they hadn’t expressed out loud that they wanted to be in a full and committed relationship, he knew she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be. 

If he was honest with himself, he knew that an emotional affair had played a part in it. The both of them had been feeling things for each other for a bit, at least for him it had been a while. Y/N had poured her trust into him and he had taken that very seriously. He’d done his best to keep himself in check but now he really didn’t have to. 

It was astounding how fast emotions could form, how feelings could grow from a seedling planted in the pit of his belly to a full bloom that burst through his chest. She’d made a garden inside of him and he wanted her to see just how beautiful it could be, if she gave him the chance. A real one. 

Harry the dominant was one part of him but it wasn’t the whole part. He was a fully fleshed out human with faults. He was picky about keeping his house clean, he could be a bit pushy sometimes, he tended to isolate when he was upset about something. There was hints of insecurity and possessiveness in his personality, jealousy. God, he was a pathetically jealous person even if he tried to keep it under wraps. These were things she hadn’t exactly gotten to see, even if there were glimpses here and there. The underlying anxiety was there and prevalent that maybe she’d see those parts and not like him as much. 

The reminder that Y/N wasn’t that cruel circled back around and called him some, smiling as he felt her stir and scoot closer to him. Her nose nuzzled into his stomach, slow breathing evening out as she got comfortable again pressed up against him. The reminder that she also had faults that he hadn’t exactly seen yet was a comfort. He doubted that anything would truly scare him away, though. The obsession was already in place. 

“M’gonna do my best.” He whispered quietly, letting the back of his hand brush her warm cheek as she snoozed, unaware of his tender words under his breath. Unaware that it felt like he was holding the world in the palm of his hand now, and it was slightly terrifying as he tried to ensure he wouldn’t break it. “Gonna take care of you, sweet girl. Promise.” 

——

Their dinner was quiet. Harry had put on jazz music that was understated beneath their talking, the food was good, but there was no denying that they both knew a conversation laid ahead that would be a defining factor. 

As much as Harry tried to be calm about it, he was slightly nervous. Y/N looked slightly anxious and he tried to keep his shoulders relaxed but it was hard to when he was unsure what part she was anxious about. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long. 

“I’m over Danny.” She blurted out. The dam had splintered and she felt like she couldn’t keep it back anymore. “I think I was over him for a long time. if he was in love with me, he would have never sent me to fuck around with someone else. If I was truly in love with him, I wouldn’t have agreed. I wouldn’t have been so eager to come and see you. It has been bothering me for a bit thinking maybe I was a bad person for wanting to move on so quickly but I think I had accepted subconsciously that it had been over for so long that it made it easier for me to feel almost single when I was around you.” Taking a gulp of air, she continued. To his credit Harry didn’t interrupt, merely folded his hands on the table and looked intently at her. 

“The last thing I want you to consider yourself is a rebound, though. I’ve been torn because… while I know I like you a lot, and I do- I really do like you,” she paused to give him a nervous smile. “I wanted to make sure that you understand that I never saw you as someone to move on with when I wasn’t distracted by him in the first place. Every single time we were together I forgot about him. As cruel as it sounds… maybe the first time I had thought about how much better it was and how this was what I was missing, that I knew he’d never be capable of the things I wanted- but being with you was never about him for me.”

Y/N knew she was a flawed individual and it wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t morally right to most people and she understood that. But this had felt like a natural turn of events for her.

“You’ve been at the forefront of my mind since we first met up at the coffee shop. I always thought you were slightly intimidating and very handsome, very kind- but once I had the go ahead to think of you as more, it never stopped. It only grew.” Her eyes dropped to her mostly finished plate as she took a deeper breath. It felt like an avalanche of words were trying to come out, all the things she had held back coming out now that she felt safe enough to. 

“I thought at first it really was a favor to him, that you were doing this because you were a good friend. But I… I’d like to think I have good enough senses to know that you enjoyed it too. You paid me more attention than anyone else ever has. From the texting to check in and remembering things I said off hand, to getting me things that are so unique to me and our conversations… it blew me away.” Her fingers fiddled with the napkin before she braved his eyes again. 

“I just wanted to tell you that I… I really would like to try. With you. The um, the dominant stuff too, but… more? If that's something you’d want.” 

“It is.” There was no hesitation in his answer, knowing she was losing steam in her rant. “It’s what I’ve wanted for a while. I tried very hard to be respectful at first, you know…” he swallowed, trying to find the words. “I wanted to be respectful because of you. I didn’t want to get out of turn. And then… I started to care less about it when I saw how little he cared about your relationship himself. I didn’t take the favor on directly because he asked me.” This was a revelation, just a bit. “I took it on because I knew you, I knew the… I know how it is wanting to try something and feeling like you’ve got no options. I also know how dangerous it could be with the wrong hands on you. And I cared for you, back then more so as a friend but I cared and didn’t want you to have a bad experience. I wanted it to be safe and pleasure filled and selfishly, I was attracted to you as it was.” 

He may have fooled himself into thinking it was for Danny but he knew deep down why he had done it. 

“I think that you took me by surprise. How well we worked together from day one. It felt like… you were made for me. Y’know?”

“Yeah.” She peeped. “I felt the same.”

The small smile on his lips was a reward for her, the table being a good divider for now. If it wasn’t there he knew he would be distracted by wanting to touch her. “Good. I was taken back by it and I wanted more n’more, I got selfish and greedy for a bit. I broke a little, having you in the cafe bathroom. Doin’ that, it was selfish for me. For us. There wasn’t anything pre planned and I knew by how you reacted I wasn’t exactly alone in the want to do more but I didn’t want to make you feel guilty, so I kept it back for a bit.”

It had been so difficult not to beg for me. Ask her to come over during the week when he felt especially lonely. Even just to have her sit in his bed and leave her scent all over the sheets or hear her padding around while he worked. That was the domesticity that he wanted. “It’s been more than sex for me for a while. I know the dynamic is more than that too, but I found myself wanting you around more. Wanting to do more things with you than what we were supposed to do. When we went out the first time together, had me all sort of nervous in the good way and I realized I was getting myself into something that could be really good, or really bad.” His heart had been on the line the whole time. 

“Listen.” Leaning forward, he clasped his hands together again as he had her eyes. “I want t’be with you too. I want more. I want… the fun side where we play and go to the club, all of that. But I want more, too. The dinners and having you in my bed, without fucking. The softer things. I know that in the past you mentioned you had to control everything in your last relationship and I wanted to warn you that m’not like that- I like control in all areas of my life. It’s one of those things I’ve tried to work on a bit. Not necessarily of you in the traditional sense but… I like t’plan the dates. I like to feel needed, don’t mind bein’ the one to take care of you as long as you save that softness for me. Jus’ like you loving on me and being that sweet girl that you’ve shown me so far, and it’ll make me happy.” His hands itched to grab her. “Does that sound like something you can deal with.”

“It sounds like it’s perfect.” A shaky laugh left her as she felt slightly like she was dreaming. “I want to know more about how I can give back to you if you’re doing all the controlling but I… I really like that idea. I don’t mind you being the one to do all those things.” His version was exactly what she wanted. 

“Good.” The sigh of relief was enough to relax his shoulders. “Now c’mon over here. You’ve been far away from me for far too long.”

Y/N scrambled up and rounded the table, a shy smile lighting up her face as she sat in his lap and giggled in surprise as his mouth met hers, eager and languid as his large hand held her hip. She felt safe. Giddy. Warm. She could get used to this. 

[munsonsmixtapes]

wearing a matching set for eddie smut?

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) body insecurity, body worship, nipple play

There's not really a reason why you bought the lingerie set. It was pretty when you tried it on and it just so happened to that pretty red that Eddie loved to see you in. You wanted to surprise him with it, putting it on top of the t-shirts he stored in the bottom drawer of the dresser you shared.

You're washing dishes when Eddie comes home from work, trying your best to act normal as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, murmuring a "hey, baby" as he passes by you to head to your shared room to change into some more comfy clothes.

You’re buzzing with excitement as you slowly follow him into the bedroom, leaning against the door frame as you watch him make the discovery, pulling the bright red, thin panties out of the drawer, whistling as he takes a look at them.

"Shit, baby, what are these?" He asks, as he turns towards you. "I'm assuming they're not for me, because," he holds them up to his body and they don't look quite right on him.

"They're for you," you tell him, your cheeks getting warm. "I mean, they're for me to wear for you." You enter the room and stand in front of him, reaching into the drawer to pull out the matching bra.

Eddie's never seen this side of you, but he has to admit that he finds it really hot. Sure, you've worn lingerie for him before, but you've never bought any to specifically wear for him. And that makes him feel special. It makes him feel…hot.

"And what did I do to deserve such special treatment?" He asks, fanning his face dramatically.

"Nothing," you shake your head. "It's for you being you." You press a kiss to his nose then take the underwear from him. "I'm gonna slip into these and you just sit there and look pretty, okay?"

You head into the bathroom and close the door, taking a deep breath as you gingerly take off your clothes, changing into the lingerie, suddenly not feeling as confident as you did in the store earlier.

The cups of the bra seem to be smaller than you remember, more transparent, your tits on full display through the sheer fabric. And the panties are more tight, hugging you in all the wrong places. The whole thing looks ill fitting and now you’re unsure of whether you should change or not.

You stare at your reflection as you fix one of the straps that’s fallen off your shoulder. You almost don’t want to go out there, the idea suddenly feeling stupid to you. But Eddie is waiting and you don’t want to disappoint him.

You slowly exit the bathroom, covering yourself up as much as you can with your hands and arms, but eventually give up, showing yourself to Eddie as he leans back where he’s sitting on the bed, another wolf whistles passing through his lips.

“Baby, you look fucking amazing.” He’s grinning ear to ear and you almost believe him. Almost. He’d never lie to you so you don’t know why you don’t believe him.

“Do I?” You ask genuinely and Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. He doesn’t know why you’re asking. He always thinks you look amazing and is very quick to tell you so.

“Of course you do. Can’t stop looking at you. Hey, what’s wrong?” He notices your frown and rests his hands on his shoulder, his head moving in the direction of yours, trying to get you to look him in the eye.

“Nothing, Eds. Don’t worry about it.” You shake your head before turning it to the side so he can’t see how ashamed you feel.

“Do you not like it? Are you uncomfortable? You don’t have to do this for me. You can change back if that’s what you want. I love you no matter what you wear. You know that.” He wants to know what’s wrong so he can fix it. He hates when you feel anything but happy and wants to do whatever he can to make you feel better.

“Is it too small?”

“Small? No, baby, you look perfect.” His hand moved to one of the cups of your bra, his fingers brushing over the lace. “This, this is nice, but I think I like what’s underneath it even better.”

Eddie pushes the strap off of your shoulder then presses a featherlight kiss to it. He backs you up to the bed as his kisses get hotter and rougher, his lips sucking on your skin as your back collides with the bed.

“Once I’m done with you, you’ll know just how pretty I think you are. Especially when you see all of marks I’m about to leave on you when you look in the mirror.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment and he’s quick to get off of you, rushing to the other side of the room and grabbing something before hurrying back to you.

He straddles your waist and brings a camera up his face, making sure that you’re in the center of the frame.

“Need a photo of my pretty girl so pose for me.”

You do as he says, positioning yourself in a way that you think looks sexy, a pose that you’ve seen in the magazines he reads.

“That’s it,” he says then snaps a photo, the thing printing out of the camera. You take it and set it on the bedside table along with the camera before Eddie lies down on top of you once again.

He leans down and brings your nipple to his mouth, sucking on it through the fabric. You let out a whine and he takes that as an invitation to continue. His hands find yours and he pins them above you as he dives in for more, licking and sucking on the fabric as you moan underneath him, the sounds nothing but hot.

Eddie moves his hands underneath you and unhooks your bra, your tits coming into view and he feels his mouth watering as he stares down at your exposed chest and all of the things he wants to do to it. You’re right there on display for him like an all-you-can-eat buffet and fuck is he hungry.

He goes for your nipple, taking the whole thing into his mouth, flicking it back and forth as he sucks on it, wanting to get a full taste of it. He slides his hands underneath you, holding onto your bare back as he works, trying to giving himself more room, wanting to have his mouth on as much of you as he can.

You’re moaning and whining and he makes sure to press his rock hard cock against you so that you know just how hard you’re making him. That you know that he’s getting just as much enjoyment out of this as you are.

“Fuck,” you whine as he bites down on your nipple, arching into him as he bites down even harder, wanting you to moan as loud as possible so all of your neighbors know exactly how good he makes you feel.

You’re already reaching your orgasm and even though you’re embarrassed by it, Eddie is quick to let you know how good of a girl he thinks you are, how you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to.

“Oh,” you moan loudly as you grab onto him, your nails digging into the back of his shirt. “Oh my god, Eddie.”

“That’s it,” he encourages as he helps you ride out your high. “That’s my girl. Sound so pretty when you moan my name.”

As you’re coming down, he moves lower, loving on every inch of skin he can get his mouth on, nipping and sucking on the parts of you he loves the most, stopping once he gets to your cunt. He spreads your legs wide and you look ready for him, already sopping wet through your panties.

Eddie gets undressed and puts on the first condom he can find before lowering himself onto you once again as he slides into you, pumping in and out slowly, knowing that this is exactly what you need. You want him to make love to you, not fuck you like he always does. You want him to show you just how much he loves you with his body.

“Wish you could see how pretty you are,” he says as he presses a kiss to your lips. “Because if you could see what I see, baby, fuck,” he sighs as he picks up the pace just slightly, his fingers interlocking with yours as his face is buried in your neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin.

“Can we do this more often?” You ask even though you’re kind of afraid to.

“What? Go slow?”

“Yes.” Your face flushes as you’re confession but Eddie just looks as you lovingly.

“Baby, you can have anything you want. All you gotta do is ask.”

“So we can do this all night as long as I ask?” Eddie pulls back to look at you as if you had just asked a silly question, and you suppose that you did.

“No question,” he shakes his head. “Now lie back darlin’, gonna show you just what I think of that pretty little thing you were wearing.”

And you do that the rest of the night and into the early morning, and afterwards, Eddie takes that Polaroid from the bedside table and puts it in his wallet so he can look at it anytime he wants. And after he does so, he pulls you into his arms and cuddles you until the two of you fall into a much needed sleep.